#we should have more fics about her other form!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysfolklore · 3 months ago

Text

labyrinth - fc43

summary: as the only female driver on the grid, everything in yn's life was planned like a perfect qualifying lap. then franco colapinto had to show up. first, he was just that annoying new guy who took her best friend's seat. then he became the driver she absolutely couldn't stand (or at least that's what she kept telling herself) word count: over 13k + social media posts

folkie radio: GUYYYYSSS SHE'S HERE! i started writing this fic in september and it's finally her time to shine!! this is my first time writing driver!reader so please be gentle with me. also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! may all of your wishes come true

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,027,537 others

yourinstagram p6 in zandvoort ! happy to see max on the podium for his home race. see you soon monza 🇮🇹

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username1 LEGEND

username2 p6 with that tractor feels like a podium finish fr

username3 give your seat to danny already

oscarpiastri Well done stinks 👊

↳ logansargeant Don’t praise her, her ego gets inflated

↳ username2 BEST TRIO ON THE GRID

↳ yourinstagram you’re both so jealous of me

redbullracing Keep pushing ! 💙

↳ username1 FIX HER FUCKING CAR

username4 p6 in a redbull? just hand the seat to someone more deserving

francolapinto Amazing 🙌🙌

↳ username2 franco is such a fannn

danielricciardo Proud of you 👌👌

↳ username1 haters want to create this beef between yn and danny for the seat but him adores her

maxverstappen1 Look she’s a nice teammate

↳ yourinstagram you adore me 😤

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

A knot forms in your stomach as you read the messages. Something about the tone doesn't sit right with you. You quickly head towards Logan's motorhome, your mind racing and your axiety creeping in.

When you arrive, Oscar is already there, leaning against the wall with a concerned expression. Logan sits on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Logan?" you ask softly, stepping into the room. "What's going on?"

He looks up at you, then at Oscar, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. "I… I'm not coming back for the next race," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. Deep down, a part of you had known this was coming. Rumors in the paddock spread faster than a Formula 1 car on a straight, and there had been whispers about Logan's seat for weeks. But you hadn't wanted to believe it. You'd pushed those thoughts aside, convinced that if you just ignored them, they wouldn't come true.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming back?"

Oscar pushes off the wall, his brow furrowed. "Mate, what happened?"

Logan takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Williams… they're replacing me. I'm out."

The room falls silent for a moment as the news sinks in. Then, all at once, you feel a surge of anger coursing through your veins.

"They can't do that!" you exclaim, your voice rising. "It's mid-season! You've been improving, you've been working so hard. How can they just… just throw you away like this?"

Logan shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "Apparently, they can. And they have."

A wave of emotions come crashing to you. Anger at Williams for their decision, frustration at the ruthless nature of the sport, and an overwhelming sadness for Logan.

Oscar moves to sit beside Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, mate. This is bullshit."

You start pacing the room, your anger building with each step. "Who are they replacing you with? Some pay driver? Some rookie who's never even touched an F1 car?"

"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.

You stop in your tracks, whirling to face him. "Colapinto? The F2 kid? Are they out of their minds?"

Oscar tries to interject, his voice calm. "YN, maybe we should-"

But you're too fired up to listen. "No, Oscar! This is wrong. It's so wrong. Logan deserves better than this. He deserves a chance to prove himself. How is he supposed to do that if they don't even give him a full season?"

Logan looks up at you, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I appreciate you having my back, stinks. But it's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."

You shake your head. "No, there has to be something. They can't just replace you with some F2 kid like that. They're out of their minds."

"YN," Oscar cuts in firmly. "I know you're angry. We all are. But right now, we need to be here for Logan. This isn't about us or what we think is fair. It's about supporting our friend."

As Oscar's words sink in, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. He's right, of course. This isn't about your anger or your sense of injustice. It's about Logan, your friend who's just had his dream ripped away from him.

The three of you have been racing together since you were kids, climbing through the ranks side by side. You've shared victories and defeats, laughter and tears. You've pushed each other to be better, to chase your dreams relentlessly. And now, one of you is being left behind.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I just… I can't believe this is happening."

Logan manages a small smile. "It's okay, stinks. I appreciate your passion. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."

"Remember when we were in karting, and YN nearly got into a fist fight with that kid who tried to push Logan off the track?" Oscar says with a small smile, trying to light up the mood.

"How could I forget?" +

Logan chuckles softly, "She was like a tiny ball of fury."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. "Hey, nobody messes with my boys and gets away with it."

"And nothing's changed," Oscar adds, giving you a fond look. "We've always had each other's backs, through everything. This is not the exception."

Without another word, the three of you come together in a tight group hug, a physical representation of the bond you've shared for so many years.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2,017,697 others

yourinstagram logan, you’re more than just a friend — you’re family. we’ve raced together since we were kids, dreaming of f1. to see that dream cut short for you is heartbreaking

your talent, dedication and kindness have always shone through. you deserved better than this mid-season swap. this sport can be cruel, but this feels especially unfair and i’m angry that my friend’s journey has been interrupted

but i’m also incredibly proud of you, logan. you have handled this with grace and strength and this isn’t the end for you — it’s just a detour. love you, stinks 🥲

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username1 IM SOBBING

username2 i still can’t believe this

username3 well hold your tears because you’re next

pierregasly Chin up, mate @/logansargeant you’re a champ 👊

alex_albon You will always be family @/logansargeant, It’s so sad to see you go

username4 that was cute now hand your seat to daniel or yuki

username5 THE FIRST PIC 🥺🥺 IM NOT OKAY

username6 oh she’s PISSED

username7 this is so unfair for logan

username8 colapinto has an enemy on track already and it’s her 😭

username9 the best trio will be incomplete now i’m not okay

username10 YOU NEXT BYE BYE

logansargeant Thank you for everything, go make me proud 💙

↳ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN

liked by francolapinto, landonorris and 410,764 others

williamsracing Franco Colapinto to race for the remainder of the 2024 season.

username1 VAMOOOS

username2 hello?? hes cute

username3 OKAY I SEE

username4 good thing for the team, sargeant was just not it

alex_albon Welcome to the fam @/francolapinto 👊

username5 KIIING

username6 an f1 kid who's not even top 5 right now in the championship? risky move

yourinstagram not even giving logan a proper goodbye? yall suck

THIS COMMENT HAS BEEN DETELED

username1 OMFG YN WE SAW THAT

username2 YN 😭😭

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Monza is always a race to look forward no matter what team you drive for, but today, your excitement is just not there.

The paddock feels different without Logan's presence, you have always raced alongside him, and not seeing his face during a race weekend feels wrong.

As you make your way through the bustling crowd, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger. Inside the Red Bull hospitality area, you find Max already settled in, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you approach, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up?" he asks, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," you slump into the chair, running a hand through your hair. "It just feels wrong, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Max nods, his expression thoughtful, "How's Logan doing? Have you talked to him?"

The mention of Logan's name ignites that spark of anger inside you again. "He's… he's putting on a brave face, but I know he's hurting. This whole situation is such bullshit, Max. Williams made a huge mistake."

Max raises an eyebrow, sensing the storm brewing beneath your calm exterior. "You want to talk about it?"

That's all the invitation you need. The words start pouring out of you, your voice rising with each sentence.

"It's just so unfair! Logan was improving every race. He was working his ass off, putting in the hours, doing everything the team asked of him. And for what? To be tossed aside mid-season for some rookie?"

Max tries to interject, "Well, Colapinto has been pretty impressive in F2-"

But you're on a roll now, barely registering his words. "Impressive in F2? So what? F1 is a whole different ball game. Logan was just starting to get comfortable, to really show what he could do. And now they've brought in this Colapinto kid who's never even driven an F1 car, who's probably a paid driver who's just going to waste everyone's times. What kind of message does that send?"

You stand up, pacing back and forth as you continue your rant. "Williams is making a huge mistake. They're throwing away all the work Logan put in, all the data they've gathered. For what? A gamble on some unproven talent? And don't even get me started on how they handled it. No warning, no real explanation. Just 'Thanks for your service, now get out.' It's disrespectful, it's short-sighted, and it's everything that's wrong with this sport sometimes."

Max watches you, a mix of concern and surprise on his face. He's never seen you this fired up before. "YN, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, Max!" you interrupt him, "You don't understand because you'll never have the fear of having your seat taken from you out of nowhere. You're Max Verstappen. You're safe. But for the rest of us… we're always one bad weekend away from losing everything."

Max's brow furrows, clearly taken aback by your statement. "YN, that's not true. I worked hard to get where I am-"

"I know you did," you interrupt again, your voice softer now. "I'm not saying you didn't. But you have to admit, your position is different. You're a world champion. You're untouchable. But for drivers like Logan, like me… we're always looking over our shoulders, always wondering if this race will be our last."

Max is silent for a moment, processing your words. "I guess you're right, I've been in a secure position for so long, I forgot what it's like to worry about your seat." He pauses, then adds, "But you know, you're in a unique position too. You're the only woman driving a Formula 1 car. That's pretty special. You should feel-"

You cut him off, your frustration flaring up again. "Exactly! I'm the only woman here, Max. Do you have any idea how much more pressure that puts on me? Every move I make is scrutinized. Every-"

Before you can continue, you spot Franco Colapinto walking past the Red Bull area, chatting animatedly with his new race engineer. The sight of him in Williams colors sends another wave of resentment through you, and you turn away abruptly.

"I need some air," you mutter, storming out of the hospitality area, leaving a bewildered Max in your wake.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The sun beats down as you stand next to Oscar on the flatbed truck, waiting for the drivers' parade to begin. The usual buzz of excitement surrounding Monza feels muted to you, overshadowed still by Logan's absence and the presence of his replacement.

"Oi, what's with the long face?" Oscar nudges you playfully with his elbow. "You look like someone stole your last Tim Tam."

"Oh shut up, you dork," you can't help but crack a small smile, "As if I'd ever let anyone near my precious Tim Tams."

"Too right," Oscar grins. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"

You shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral for the cameras. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a bit of midseason drama to spice things up, right?"

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Oscar rolls his eyes, "Come on, I bet you twenty quid you can't name all the Italian F1 circuits without googling."

"You're on, Piastri," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Monza, Imola, Mugello…"

As you're racking your brain for more, you notice Franco Colapinto approaching. Your playful mood evaporates instantly.

Franco's eyes widen as he gets closer, clearly starstruck. "Uh, hi," he says nervously. "I'm Franco. I just wanted to introduce myself."

Oscar, ever the diplomat, smiles and extends his hand. "Hey mate, welcome to F1. I'm Oscar."

Franco shakes his hand before turning to you, his expression one of barely contained awe. "And you're YN. I… I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. You're such an inspiration. The way you've broken barriers in this sport, it's incredible. I've followed your career since your F3 days and-"

You cut him off, your voice cool. "Thanks. Welcome to the grid."

Franco's smile falters, but he presses on. "I just wanted to say how much I admire what you've accomplished. You've paved the way for so many young drivers, especially women in motorsport. It's an honor to be racing alongside you."

You nod stiffly. "Thanks," you repeat, your tone making it clear that you're not interested in continuing the conversation.

An awkward silence falls over the group. Oscar, sensing the tension, tries to smooth things over. "So, Franco, how are you finding the step up to F1 so far?"

As Franco turns to answer Oscar, you take the opportunity to step away, moving to the other side of the truck. You can feel Oscar's gaze following you, but you can't bring yourself to engage in small talk with Logan's replacement, no matter how well-intentioned he might be.

As you're standing alone, Alex approaches, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

You shrug. "Free country, Albon. Or free truck, I guess."

Alex chuckles softly. "How are you doing? I know this can't be easy for you."

You sigh, your guard dropping slightly with Alex. "It's… complicated. I'm angry for Logan, but I know it's not Franco's fault. It's just…"

"It's the reality of the sport we're in," Alex finishes for you. "Trust me, I get it. Been there, done that, got the Red Bull rejection t-shirt."

Your stomach twists at the mention of that, suddenly remembering the endless conversations and warnings from your team. And how despite having a contract for next season, there's threats about your seat being take away after every race weekend. But you push the thought away.

"Always the comedian, aren't you?"

"Someone's got to keep the mood light around here," Alex grins. "But seriously, I know it's tough. Franco's a good kid, though. He's been working really hard, trying to learn as much as he can."

You nod, not quite ready to let go of your resentment but appreciating Alex's perspective. "How's he settling in?"

"As well as can be expected," Alex says. "He's got a lot to learn, but he's eager. It's a big step up from F2, but he's handling the pressure well so far."

You're about to respond when the parade starts moving. Alex gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder before moving back to his spot. As the truck rolls down the straight, the cheers of the Tifosi wash over you. You lift your hand to wave, a mix of emotions swirling inside you that go beyond just Logan's replacement.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,638,578 others

yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋

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username1 you will always be the moment

username2 FIX THE FUCKING CAR ALREADY

username3 ouu shes DONEEE

username4 most undeserved seat on the grid i swear

username5 anyway RICBULL IS COMING

francolapinto Such a pleasure to race alongside you!

↳ username1 franco respects and admires her so much i love it

↳ username2 im pretty sure yn hates him tho

username6 the constructors championship is gone thanks to her

logansargeant Chin up, love you 💙

↳ username2 i miss them so much

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,739 others

f1gossip YN arriving at Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes

Tensions running high as rumors swirl about potential driver shake-ups. Sources say YN’s recent performance has bosses considering options

Is the Honey Badger eyeing a comeback or could young Liam Lawson be making the leap to F1? 🤔

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username1 bro...

username2 they better fix her car NOW

username3 RICBULL RICBULL

username4 honestly the best thing for the team would be her getting replaced

username5 YAAAS SHE'S OUT FINALLY

username6 oscar is the only 2023 rookie who actually puts in the work

username7 some people need to start putting some respect on yn's name bc yall keep forgetting she was third in the championship and got her first win during her ROOKIE SEASON and the reason she's struggling rn is bc redbull is not getting their shit together

↳ username1 right??? they're just saying shit

↳ username4 you said it yourself, she has a championship winning car and she's not delivering. she should be out

username8 YN GET BEHIND ME

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,638,538 others

yourinstagram great quali, we should have some fun tomorrow 😚

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username1 SLAYYY

username2 p4 after all the nonsense surrounding her seat? feels right

username3 THE QUEEN OF BAKU FOR REAL

lilyzneimer my favorite supergirl 💙

username4 she got lucky

username5 don't care, we still want danny or liam in that seat

username6 enjoy the race bc it might be your last

username7 watch her on that podium tomorrow

logansargeant Super proud always

↳ username2 LOGAN WE MISSS YOUUUU

francolapinto 🤩

liked by username1, logansargeant and 270,847 others

redbullracing Solid race and a bunch of points for the team 👊

Result 🏁PIA, LEC, YN P3, NOR, Max P5, ALO, ALB, COL, HAM, BEA

#F1 #RedBullRacing #AzerbaijanGP

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username1 SO DAMN TRUE

username2 yn back on the podium FINALLY

username3 yn saw the rumors about her seat and decided to shut them up

username4 SHES BEATING MAX FINALLY

username5 did they finally fix the car

username6 i don't want anyone commenting on her seat anymore

username7 i knew she got into that care absolutely PISSED

username8 QUEEN OF BAKU

liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 1,764,933 others

yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva

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username1 LEGEND

username2 she's so smug

username3 TELL THEM QUEEEN

landonorris The third pic is definitely your best @/oscarpiastri

↳ yourinstagram IKR

↳ username1 I LOVE THEM

logansargeant Congrats to both of you @/oscarpiastri @/yourinstagram I'm always proud of everything you achieve ❤️

↳ username2 logan should be there too i'm sad now

↳ oscarpiastri Love you mate

↳ yourinstagram this paddock will never be the same without you

maxvertsappen1 🙌🙌 So proud of you little sister

oscarpiastri Love you stinks

francolapinto Congrats! Always an honor to race alongside you

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The drivers' briefing has just concluded, and you find yourself lingering in the room, chatting with your friends.

"I swear, I almost peed my pants at that press conference!," Lando says, his eyes widening as he recalls, "When Max and YN just sat there in silence, staring down the journalists… I thought I was going to lose it!"

Pierre chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "I knew YN was the mastermind behind that. It has her written all over it."

"Well, someone had to make a point about these ridiculous penalties," you can't help but grin.

The group's laughter is interrupted as Franco approaches, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey guys, mind if I join?"

The others welcome him warmly, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. You force a tight smile, trying to keep your emotions in check.

"Franco, mate!" George exclaims, patting him on the back. "That was some impressive driving in practice. You're settling in well."

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're really holding your own out there. Williams made a good choice."

You feel your jaw clench at Alex's words, but you remain silent, watching as Franco's face lights up with pride and gratitude.

"Thanks, guys," Franco says, his voice humble. "I still have a lot to learn, but I'm giving it my all."

"Well, it's paying off," Lando chimes in, "Points in just your second race? You're pushing that Williams harder than we've seen in a while."

As the conversation continues, with each driver offering praise and encouragement to Franco, you feel your frustration and anger building.

The memory of Logan's disappointment and unfairness of it all, mixed with the ever present threat of you seat having the same fate, bubbles up inside you until you can't contain it anymore.

"And what about Logan?" you snap, your voice cutting through the friendly chatter like a knife. The group falls silent, all eyes turning to you in surprise. Franco's smile fades, replaced by a look of discomfort and guilt.

"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.

But you're too fired up to stop now. "No, seriously. Everyone's so quick to praise him, but what about Logan? He was improving every race, working his ass off, and for what? To be tossed aside mid-season?"

The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. George and Alex exchange uncomfortable glances, while Pierre shifts uneasily.

Franco, looking distressed, speaks up. "I never meant for Logan to lose his seat. I just took the opportunity when it was offered to me. Any driver would have done the same."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" his words only fuel your anger. "You just 'took the opportunity'? Do you have any idea how hard Logan worked for that seat? How much he sacrificed?"

"YN, that's enough," Oscar says firmly, placing a hand on your arm.

But you shrug him off, your eyes blazing as you face Franco. "You waltz in here, taking a seat you didn't earn, and everyone's falling over themselves to congratulate you. It's not right. It's not fair."

The room falls into a shocked silence. Franco looks like he's been slapped, his earlier excitement completely deflated. The other drivers are staring at you with a mix of surprise and disapproval.

It's George who finally breaks the tension. "YN, I think we all understand you're upset about Logan. We all are. But this isn't Franco's fault. He's just trying to make the most of his chance, like any of us would."

You feel a flush of shame creeping up your neck, but your anger is still simmering. "You don't understand," you mutter, but the fight has gone out of your voice.

Franco, looking genuinely distressed, takes a step towards you. "I'm sorry about what happened to Logan. I really am. I have nothing but respect for him, and for you. I never wanted to cause any problems."

His sincerity catches you off guard, and for a moment, you see not the driver who replaced your friend, but a young, talented kid trying to navigate a difficult situation. However, your anger and frustration gets the best of you.

"Whatever," you mumble, pushing past the group and out of the room, leaving a stunned silence as you disappear.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 709,639 others

francolapinto still buzzing from singapore 🇸🇬growing up watching Lewis battle in marina bay and now getting to race wheel to wheel with him... surreal doesn't even begin to cover it 🤯 and that fight with YN for position was proper racing - those last few laps were intense! thank you to the team for giving me a car that could fight at the front. vamos 💪

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username1 he’s an f1 driver now but he’ll always be a fanboy

lewishamilton Good racing kid, you've got a bright future ahead 👊🏾

williamsracing Our boy! 💙

username3 Did anyone else notice how aggressive YN was when overtaking Franco? Almost pushed him into the wall...

↳ username1 fr she looked like she wanted to crash him

↳ username4 they were racing for position, that's what racing drivers do 🙄

username5 the way he always mentions YN in his posts but she never acknowledges him 👀

username6 that move from YN was unnecessarily aggressive, could've ended badly

landonorris Great drive mate!

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 2,370,739 others

f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced. Liam Lawson will race in place of Ricciardo for the remaining six races of the season for the team.

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username1 DANNY NOOOO

username2 this sucks man

danielricciardo Been a hell of a ride! Thank you RB family ❤️

maxverstappen1 Going to miss you mate!

username3 Wrong driver leaving... YN should be the one out

↳ username1 exactly! she's been underperforming all season

yourinstagram always grateful for everything you taught me DR. more than a driver - you've been a big brother, mentor, and friend since day one. going to miss our pre-race dance parties 🥺🤍

↳ username3 now give him your seat

↳ username1 it's no annoying to see that drivers like her have an undeserved contract extension and talented drivers get left out

↳ danielricciardo Love you kiddo! Make me proud

username5 Gutted to see Danny Ric go 💔

landonorris Won't be the same without you mate!

username7 @/yourinstagram Maybe focus more on racing than dancing 🙄

↳ username8 she's literally P5 in the championship, shut up

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As you step off the plane in Florida, the warm air envelops you, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn weather you left behind in Europe. Your heart lightens as you spot Logan waiting for you, his familiar grin a welcome sight after weeks of tension and stress. You missed your best friend so much.

You rush towards him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "That paddock sucks without you."

Logan chuckles, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I missed you too, stinks." He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now, let's grab a beer since you're out of race cars for a while."

You nod eagerly, letting him lead the way. He drives you to a nearby bar, one you've learned over the years of knowing him was the one he used to go to during his teenage years. The casual atmosphere is a refreshing change from the high-pressure environment of the paddock. As you settle into a booth with cold beers in hand, you feel some of the tension from the past few months start to melt away.

"So, how's life outside the F1 bubble?" you ask, taking a sip of beer.

Logan grins, leaning back in his seat. "It's… different. But not all bad. Actually, I've got some news." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I've been in talks with a few IndyCar teams."

Your eyes widen with excitement. "Logan, that's fantastic! Tell me everything!"

For the next hour, Logan animatedly describes his meetings with IndyCar team principals, the tracks he's excited to race on, and the new challenges he's looking forward to. You listen intently, genuinely happy for your friend's potential new chapter.

"It's not F1," Logan admits, "but it's a hell of a racing series. And who knows? Maybe it'll lead me back to F1 someday."

"I have no doubt," you assure him, raising your bottle in a toast. "To new beginnings!"

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in months. You chat about mutual friends, swap funny stories from your junior racing days, and discuss the latest paddock gossip.

Eventually, Logan's expression turns a bit more serious. "So, Oscar's been keeping me updated on what's been going on in F1. Sounds like things have been… tense with Franco."

You feel your mood shift at the mention of Franco's name. "Yeah, you could say that," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer.

Logan leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. "YN, I know you're upset on my behalf, but you can't keep this grudge going forever. Franco's just a kid trying to make his way in the sport, like we all were not too long ago."

"I know, I know. It's just," you sigh heavily, "Every time I see him in the garage, in your overalls, talking to your engineers… it feels wrong, Logan. Like he's stolen something that belongs to you."

"But he didn't steal anything," Logan counters. "The team made a decision. It sucks for me, yeah, but that's not on Franco. He just took an opportunity that was offered to him. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same in his position?"

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Logan has a point, and you know it.

"Look," Logan continues, "I've had some time to process all this, and I've come to terms with it. It's a cutthroat sport, YN. We all know that. Franco's not the villain here."

"But the way it happened," you protest, "mid-season, with no warning. It wasn't fair to you."

"Fair doesn't always come into it in F1. It just happens," Logan shrugs, "Besides," he adds with a hint of a smile, "I hear he's doing a decent job. The kid's got talent."

"He's alright," you grudgingly admit. "But he's not you."

Logan laughs. "No one's me, stinks. I'm one of a kind."

You can't help but crack a smile at that. "True enough."

"So," Logan says, his tone turning serious again, "can you promise me you'll try to ease up on Franco? Give him a fair shot? For me?"

You sigh deeply, considering his words. "I'll try," you finally concede. "But I'm not promising to be his best friend or anything."

"That's all I ask," Logan says, looking relieved. "Now, is this just about Franco replacing me, or is there something else going on? You seem… I don't know, more on edge than usual."

For a moment, you consider telling him about the talks with Red Bull, about the uncertainty surrounding your own seat. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something holds you back. Maybe it's not wanting to burden Logan with your problems, or maybe it's not being ready to voice your fears out loud.

"No, nothing else," you lie, forcing a smile. "Just the usual F1 stress, you know how it is."

Logan nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if there ever is anything, you know you can talk to me, right? Even if I'm not in the paddock anymore."

"I know," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "Thanks, Logan. Really."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,289,673 others

yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug

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username1 AHHH she visited logan

logansargeant Next time we're doing the gator tour 🐊

↳ username2 i love them sm

oscarpiastri No invite for your favourite Aussie? Rude

↳ username2 we need the iconic trio together again

username3 they've been friends since forever, love how they support each other

username4 Logan and YN's friendship >>>>>

username5 Why is she on holiday when she should be working on her driving?

username6 the way logan always has her back 🥺

username7 surely there are better uses of time with 4 races left and her seat under threat?

francolapinto Amazing 🙌

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You arrive at the Red Bull hospitality area in Austin, the excitement of being back after the break palpable in the air. As you walk in, you spot Max lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Max grins, looking up from his device. "Did you get lost in the Texas wilderness?"

You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your bag on a nearby chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Did I keep you waiting? I was busy signing autographs for all my adoring fans. You know how it is… oh wait, you don't."

"Ouch, that hurt," Max clutches his chest in mock pain, "And here I was, about to show you something interesting, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. The banter with Max always helps you relax before a race weekend, and you've missed this during the break. "Oh come on, spill it, Verstappen. You know you want to. Don't make me steal your phone."

Max chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Alright, alright. Sit down before you hurt yourself trying to reach my phone."

As you sit down, he pulls up a video on his phone. "Check this out. It's an interview with your biggest fan."

It's an interview with Franco. Your initial instinct is to look away, a mix of guilt and stubbornness rising in your chest. But something in Max's expression makes you watch.

"Lewis Hamilton and YN are my biggest idols in F1," Franco is saying, his face earnest. "The way YN races, her dedication and skill, it's truly inspiring. She's broken so many barriers and shown that talent knows no gender. I feel honored just to be on the same grid as her."

As the interview continues, Franco heaps more praise on you, his admiration clear in every word. You feel a twinge of guilt, remembering how cold you've been towards him. The genuine respect in his voice makes you uncomfortable, forcing you to confront your own prejudices.

"Her overtake on Leclerc in Interlagos last year? That was pure brilliance," Franco continues. "I've watched that move countless times, trying to learn from it. YN's not just a great driver, she's changing the face of the sport. I hope one day I can race wheel-to-wheel with her and show her the respect she deserves on track."

Max turns off the video and looks at you expectantly. "I think you owe someone an apology," he says, his tone gentle but firm.

You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. A wave of shame washes over you as you remember your cold behavior towards Franco. "I think I do," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, we all make mistakes. What matters is how we fix them. Franco's a good kid, and he really looks up to you. Maybe it's time to give him a chance?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I actually talked to Logan last week," you confess, watching Max's eyebrows rise in surprise. "He's doing well, actually - focusing on IndyCar now. But we talked a lot about… everything."

"Yeah?" Max shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. It's not often you open up about these things.

"He basically told me I needed to stop fighting battles that weren't mine to fight. Said he appreciates me having his back, but Franco isn't the enemy here. He's just chasing his dream, like we all did. Logan said he remembers how it felt, getting his first chance - we all do."

Max nods thoughtfully. "Logan's right, you know. We've all been there at some point - getting an opportunity because someone else lost theirs. It's just how F1 works sometimes."

"I know," you admit, standing up. "And I've been unfair to Franco. He's actually doing a really good job with Williams, fighting in the midfield with a car that's not the easiest to drive. And here I am, making him feel unwelcome when I should be supporting talent. Some role model I am, right?"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks, though his smile suggests he already knows.

You spot Franco heading towards the Williams hospitality area. "I'm going to make it right."

Walking over to Williams, you feel your heart pounding a little faster with each step. You find Franco sitting at one of the tables, going through data on his laptop with his race engineer.

"Franco?" you call out. "Could I steal you for a moment?"

He looks up, surprise evident on his face. "YN? Hi… yeah, of course." He glances at his engineer, who nods and excuses himself.

"Mind if I sit?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair. When he nods, you take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. A proper one."

Franco starts to shake his head, but you hold up a hand. "Please, let me finish. I've been unfair to you, and it wasn't right. I let my loyalty to Logan blind me to the fact that you're just a talented driver making the most of your opportunity. I've been cold, sometimes even hostile, and you didn't deserve any of that."

"I… thank you," Franco says quietly. "That means a lot. I want you to know, I reached out to Logan when-"

"I know," you interrupt gently. "He told me. That's partly why I'm here. You showed real class doing that, Franco. And you're doing a great job with the car. That P8 in Baku? That was proper racing."

A genuine smile breaks across his face. "Coming from you, that really means a lot. You know, I've watched your races since I was in F3. The way you fought through all the doubters, proved everyone wrong… you're really an inspiration."

You feel your throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had no idea."

"That's why your opinion means so much," Franco admits, fiddling with his water bottle. "When you seemed disappointed in me being here… it hurt, you know?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, meaning it more than ever. "How about we start fresh? Maybe you can talk me through that overtake in Baku - I noticed you used a similar line to what I did in Interlagos last year."

Franco's eyes light up. "You caught that? I actually studied your move while preparing for the race! The way you positioned the car on entry…"

You spend the next twenty minutes discussing racing lines and overtaking techniques, the earlier tension completely dissolved. Franco's enthusiasm is infectious, reminding you of your own early days in F1.

When you finally walk back to Max, you feel lighter than you have in months. He greets you with a knowing smile. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you admit. "Sometimes you need a kick in the right direction So thank you, I needed that wake-up call."

"Anytime," he smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders, "Can't have my teammate being the paddock villain, can I? That's my job."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,667,459 others

yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto

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username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 franco is going to piss his pants

williamsracing Our rookie giving the Red Bull a run for their money 💙

username4 she shouldn’t be acknowledging that a rookie in a williams is making it hard for her… embarrasing

username5 the start of YN and Franco's friendship? 👀

username7 the tension between these two was getting old, glad they're friends now

username8 HANDLE YOUR SEAT

username8 MY DUO 😭❤️

francolapinto Next time I won’t make it easy for you!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private jet hums quietly through the night sky towards Mexico City. Most of the other drivers are asleep, exhausted from the intense Austin weekend. You find yourself unable to sleep, your mind still racing from the events of the day. Glancing around the dimly lit cabin, you notice Franco is also awake, absently flipping through a magazine.

Catching your eye, he gives you a warm smile and moves to the empty seat across from you. "Can't sleep either?"

"Too much adrenaline still," you admit, adjusting your position to face him better. "Great drive today, by the way. That point was well-deserved."

Franco's face lights up at the compliment. "Thanks! Though it's nothing compared to your battle with Lando. I was watching it from behind and thought 'there's no way she's going to make that stick' but then you just… did. It was incredible."

You laugh softly, careful not to wake the others. "There was a moment there where I wasn't sure either. But sometimes you just have to go for it, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Franco grins. "Like that time in F3 when I tried to go around the outside at Spa and ended up practically in another timezone."

"Please tell me there's video of that," you snicker.

"Unfortunately for my dignity, yes. I think my engineer still uses it as an example of what not to do."

The conversation flows naturally, jumping from racing stories to childhood memories. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company, something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.

"So what made you want to be a racing driver?" you ask, genuinely curious.

As Franco launches into how he found his passion for the sport, you find yourself really looking at him properly for the first time. The soft cabin lighting catches the angles of his face, and you notice details you'd overlooked before. His eyes are warm with flecks of gold, crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles. There's a small scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you're paying attention. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from the long race day, a few strands falling across his forehead.

You catch yourself thinking how handsome he actually is, in that classic way. His animated expressions as he talks about racing make him even more attractive, his passion for the sport evident in every gesture.

"...and that's when I knew I wanted to do this forever," he finishes, then looks slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to get carried away when talking about racing."

"No, don't apologize," you say quickly. "It's refreshing to see that kind of enthusiasm. Some of the guys get so jaded after a while."

Franco's smile turns a bit shy. "Speaking of enthusiasm, I'm really excited about racing in Mexico this weekend. It's one of my favorite cities - the atmosphere is just incredible."

"The fans are amazing there," you agree. "Though I still haven't found a really good place to eat in Mexico City. The hotel restaurant gets old pretty quickly."

Franco's eyes light up. "Oh, you have to let me help with that! I know a couple of amazing restaurants in the city. There's this incredible place that serves the best traditional dishes you've ever tasted, and another one in that does contemporary Mexican cuisine that would blow your mind."

You find yourself intrigued, both by the suggestion and the eager way he's describing it. "That sounds way better than room service."

"We could..." he hesitates for a moment, then continues with determination, "we could go together, if you'd like? After Thursday's media duties maybe? I'd love to show you my favorite spots."

There's something endearing about the way he's trying to sound casual while clearly being nervous about asking. You feel a flutter in your stomach that you definitely weren't expecting.

"You know what? That sounds great," you say, surprised by how much you mean it. "It's about time I experienced proper Mexican cuisine."

Franco's face breaks into a brilliant smile. "Perfect! I'll make a reservation for Thursday evening then. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As the conversation continues, you can't help but notice how natural it feels now, how easily you're laughing at his jokes and sharing stories. It's hard to believe this is the same person you were avoiding just a few weeks ago.

As other drivers start stirring from their sleep, Franco returns to his original seat, but not before confirming your dinner plans one more time.

Watching him walk away, you find yourself looking forward to Thursday evening more than you probably should. It's just dinner with a colleague, you tell yourself, even as you catch yourself smiling at the thought of it.

"Just dinner," you whisper to yourself, but somehow, you're not entirely convinced.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories

replies:

georgerussell63 So that was all the giggling I heard during the flight

oscarpiastri I’m so telling Logan

maxverstappen1 Can I say “I told you so” now?

francolapinto close friends privileges already? wow

↳ yourinstagram don’t push it colapinto

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The hotel lobby is relatively quiet as you wait for Franco, having agreed to meet there before heading to the restaurant. You've opted for casual - a simple black dress that makes you feel confident but not overdressed.

"Ready to have your mind blown by the best food in Mexico City?" Franco's voice makes you turn. He's wearing dark jeans and a well-fitted navy button-down, and you try not to notice how good he looks.

"Big claims require big proof," you tease, falling into step beside him.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lando's familiar accent cuts through the lobby. He's just coming in from what looks like a gym session, and his surprised smirk makes you want to roll your eyes. "Interesting dinner plans?"

"Just showing YN the local cuisine," Franco says smoothly, though you notice his ears turning slightly pink.

"Right, right," Lando drawls, his eyes dancing with amusement. "The local cuisine. In your nice shirt. At that fancy place you've been talking about for weeks-"

"Goodbye, Lando," you cut him off, grabbing Franco's arm and steering him toward the exit, trying to ignore Lando's knowing chuckle behind you. You knew it was a matter of time before the entire grid finds out you went out with Franco.

The restaurant is everything Franco promised and more. The conversation flows easily between you, and you find yourself charmed by the way he seamlessly switches between Spanish and English while ordering, the way he leans in slightly when you're talking, the way his hand occasionally brushes yours across the table.

"No way," you laugh, taking another sip of wine. "You did not challenge your friend to a dance-off."

"I absolutely did," Franco grins. "And I won, by the way. Though there might have been some tequila involved."

"I would pay good money to see that."

"Play your cards right," he says with a playful wink, "and maybe you'll get a private demonstration."

The flirtatious comment catches you off guard, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Franco seems pleased with this reaction, his confidence growing throughout the evening.

The evening continues, warm and comfortable. Franco insists on ordering dessert - "You haven't lived until you've tried their churros con chocolate" - and you find yourself sharing stories between bites of perfectly crispy churros.

"So," Franco says, wiping chocolate from his lip with a napkin, "you, Oscar, and Logan - that's quite the trio. How did that happen?"

You laugh, fondly remembering those early days. "We practically grew up together in karting. I was this tiny kid trying to prove myself, Oscar was already sassy even at eight years old, and Logan… well, Logan was Logan."

"Let me guess - immediate chaos?" Franco grins.

"Oh, absolutely. We used to drive our parents and coaches crazy. These three kids who wouldn't stop racing each other even after practice was over." You smile at the memory. "We've been inseparable ever since. Though now Logan's living his best life in Florida."

Franco's eyes soften. "You really miss having him in the paddock, don't you?"

"Yeah," you admit quietly. "I do. But he's happy, and that's what matters. Plus, he texts me stupid memes at least twenty times a day, so it's like he never left."

After asking for the bill — one that Franco didn't let you pay no matter how much you insisted — you decided to walk back to the hotel. You were aware that his hand was close to yours as you walked side by side, almost brushing your fingers, but you didn't dare to take that step, and neither did he.

You reach the hotel, but instead of heading straight for the elevators, Franco suggests taking the scenic route through the garden. The night is too nice to end just yet.

"I have to say," he remarks as you walk, "you look beautiful tonight. That dress is…" he makes an exaggerated chef's kiss gesture, making you laugh.

"Smooth, Colapinto. Very smooth."

"I try," he winks, and you roll your eyes but can't hide your smile.

The walk to your room comes too quickly. Outside your door, Franco turns to you with a soft smile.

"Thank you for tonight," he says. "It was… nice. Really nice."

"It was," you agree, finding yourself meaning it completely. "Thank you for showing me your favorite spot."

There's a moment where you both just look at each other, the air charged with something unspoken. Franco takes a small step closer, then seems to think better of it.

"Goodnight, YN," he says softly, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

"Goodnight, Franco," you reply, watching him head down the hallway.

As you close the door behind you, you lean against it, smiling to yourself. You can already hear Max's smug "I told you so" tomorrow, but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 14,892 users

f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.

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username2 This is getting interesting... 👀

username3 STOP I'M CRYING 😭❤️

username4 they're just friends guys, calm down

username4 the way he makes her laugh though!!!

username5 watch how they'll deny everything tomorrow

username6 MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS

username8 this has to be more than just friendship...

username10 I MANIFESTED THIS

username12 focus on racing instead of dating maybe?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Brazilian rain hammers down relentlessly on the Interlagos circuit. It's barely 6 AM, but the paddock is already buzzing with nervous energy for the early sprint qualifying. You stifle a yawn as you check your phone for what must be the hundredth time that morning. Another message from Franco pops up - a picture of himself looking comically miserable in the rain with the caption "Maybe if we all pretend we didn't see the rain, they'll cancel quali?"

The past week has been unexpected in the best way possible. After that dinner in Mexico, something shifted. What started as sharing breakfast in the hotel turned into spending every free moment together. During the long flight to São Paulo, George had dramatically sighed and switched seats with Franco, muttering something about "not being able to take the longing looks across the plane anymore."

"Someone's cheerful for 6 AM," Max comments, walking into the garage as you quickly type a response to Franco. "Let me guess - Argetinian company keeping you entertained?"

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably. "Shut up and focus on qualifying."

"Oh, I'm focused," he grins. "Unlike someone who keeps looking at their phone every two minutes."

"I'm just-"

"YN," Max interrupts, counting off on his fingers, "he waited outside our debrief yesterday just to walk you to dinner. He somehow always knows your coffee order. And don't think I didn't notice him giving you his jacket yesterday."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "We're just friends."

"Right," Max smirks. "Friends. Like how Charles and I are 'just friends' when we're trying to punt each other off track."

"Shut up, as if you weren't secretly in love with each other."

A few hours later, as you prepare for the drivers' parade, Oscar sidles up next to you with his trademark grin.

"Well, well, if it isn't the stranger," he says dramatically. "Remember me? One of your best friends? Though I suppose you wouldn't know, being attached at the hip with a certain Williams driver these days."

You roll your eyes, but there's no heat in it. "Miss me that much, Piastri?"

"Just saying, used to be we'd get coffee before parade, now it's all 'Sorry Oscar, Franco already got me coffee,'" he mimics your voice terribly.

You're about to retort when Franco appears, and Oscar's grin widens. "And that's my cue. Have fun, kids!" He winks before sauntering off.

"Ignore him," you say when you notice a small smile in Franco's face, "He's the perpetual pain in my ass."

"He's okay," Franco says, standing closer to you. You're trying to get your hair in order when you realize something's missing.

"Shit," you mutter, patting your pockets. "I forgot my hair tie."

"You always braid it before races, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh, still searching. "I'm stupidly superstitious about it. Haven't gotten into the car without a perfect braid since F3."

"Here," Franco pulls a hair tie from his wrist. At your surprised look, he shrugs. "I started carrying one after Mexico. Just in case," he shrugs, as if he was saying the most obvious thing ever, "Turn around."

"You know how to braid hair?"

"Sisters, remember? I'm practically a professional." His fingers are gentle as they work through your hair. "Besides, can't have you breaking your streak because of a missing hair tie."

You're acutely aware of the other drivers watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lewis gives you a knowing wink as he passes, while Charles not-so-subtly elbows Oscar and gestures toward you two.

"There," he says finally, securing the end with your hair tie. "Perfect braid for perfect racing."

You reach back to feel it - it is indeed perfect. When you turn to thank him, you find him much closer than expected, his eyes soft as they meet yours.

"Show off," you manage to say, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing.

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, and you hear what sounds suspiciously like Alex whispering "Just kiss already" to George.

The moment is broken by the announcement for drivers to take their places on the parade truck. As you climb aboard, you catch Oscar making exaggerated swooning gestures at you, while Max simply mouths "Just friends?" with a knowing smirk.

Franco takes his place beside you on the truck, close enough that your shoulders touch, and somehow you find you don't really care who's watching.

"Nice braid, by the way," Charles calls out teasingly from behind you. "Franco, think you could do mine next time?"

"Get your own hair stylist, Leclerc," you call back, and Franco's laugh next to you makes everything - the bad qualifying, the rain, the teasing - worth it.

The truck starts moving, and Franco's hand finds yours, hidden from view between you. You intertwine your fingers with his, and neither of you let go for the entire parade.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 21,765 others

f1_insider🚨 Christian Horner spotted leaving Williams hospitality after a 2-hour meeting in Brazil. This comes amid increasing speculation about driver changes for 2025.

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username1 They're not even trying to be subtle anymore…

username2 leave YN alone challenge

username3 Franco to Red Bull confirmed? 👀

username5 WAIT WHAT

username7 the timing of this… right before quali 😬

username8 everyone acting surprised like this hasn't been brewing for weeks username11 They're trying to destabilize her before the race

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 2,093,032 others

yourinstagram brazil never disappoints. p15 ➡️ p2. proud of this one.

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username1 IM STILL CRYING

username2 MIC DROP

maxverstappen1 Proper racing today 💪🏻 That defense in the last 10 laps 🔥Love you kiddo, couldn't ask for a better teammate

↳ username1 max said SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE

danielricciardo THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! That's my girl!

username3 EVERYONE'S PRIDE AND JOY

username4 she got lucky and still no win this season

landonorris Absolute monster in the wet

logansargeant THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND

username5 this is why she deserves that seat

username6 where are all the haters now? 🤫

username7 that battle through the midfield was masterclass

username8 Silencing critics in the best way possible

liked by username1, username2 and 14,088 others

f1gossip YN's radio messages during Franco's crash show a different side to their "rivalry." Listen to how her voice changes when she finds out it's him. Sometimes the real feelings come through in moments like these.

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username2 this doesn't sound like someone who "hates" him

username3 top I'm crying 😭

username4 "tell me he's okay" broke me

username6 forget the rivalry narrative, that's genuine concern

username7 MY DRIVERS STOOOOP

username8 this is the most emotion we've heard from her all season

username9 notice how she's been cold towards him for weeks but the second he's in danger…

username10 SOMETHING SHIFTED

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The easy banter has become your normal over the past week. Ever since Brazil, where you fought your way from P15 to P2 in treacherous conditions, something has shifted between you. The walls you'd carefully maintained started crumbling during that rain-soaked weekend.

Your phone buzzes again - this time it's Christian Horner requesting a meeting. Your stomach tightens instinctively. These meetings have become more frequent throughout the season, always with subtle undertones about your future with the team.

Franco: "Meeting with James in 10. Wish me luck not falling asleep in the sim debrief. Call you after?"

You: "Sure, good luck x"

The 'x' slips out before you can stop it - you've never added that before. Your finger hovers over the delete button, but he's already seen it.

Franco: "Did THE YN just send me a kiss? Screenshots being taken. This is historic

You're still smiling about your early interaction with Franco when you walk into Christian Horner's office, but his expression is serious enough to make your smile fade. You've been here before - these "casual meetings" that could determine your future.

"YN, thanks for making time," he gives a polite smile, "Please, take a seat."

You sit, trying to read his expression. Last week's podium trophy sits on a shelf behind him - your trophy, earned after fighting through half the grid.

"As you're aware, your contract includes certain performance clauses. While your recent results, particularly Brazil, have been impressive, we need to consider all options for the team's future."

That familiar knot in your stomach returns. "What kind of options?"

"I was at Williams recently," Christian says carefully, "discussing various possibilities, including Franco Colapinto."

The world seems to tilt slightly. Franco. At Williams. Meeting about possibilities. Just like with Logan.

"I got P2 in Brazil," you say, hating how defensive your voice sounds. "Started P15. In the rain. I battled with the entire grid while also defending for Max to secure a double podium."

"Yes, and it was an exceptional drive-"

"I'm fifth in the championship. I've scored podiums consistently despite the car being a nightmare to drive most of the times. What more do I need to do?"

Christian's expression remains neutral. "This isn't about any single result, YN. We need to evaluate all potential scenarios for the team's future."

"So you're considering replacing me," you say flatly. "With Franco."

"I trust you understand this is just business, YN," Christian says as you stand to leave. "We have to explore every option."

You pause at the door, turning back slightly. "Of course. Business." Your voice is perfectly controlled. "Just like my P2 in Brazil was business. My podiums were business. Everything I've given to this team has been business."

"YN-"

"No, I get it. Really." You manage a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have some sim work to review."

It hits you as you drive back to your apartment - every friendly conversation, every shared coffee, every late-night text… none of it was real. Franco isn't your friend. He's just another driver who sees you as an obstacle to overcome, a seat to claim. Just like everyone else since you entered F1, smiling to your face while plotting to take what's yours.

Back in your apartment, your phone keeps lighting up with Franco's messages, each one making your chest tighter. You can't bring yourself to block him - that feels too much like acknowledging how much this hurts. Instead, you just... stop responding. Set the phone aside. Focus on your laptop, on race data, on anything else.

Your phone rings - Oscar's familiar face popping up on the screen.

"Finally!" he exclaims when you answer. "I've been trying to reach you all day. You missed the most hilarious thing - Lando tried to make vegemite pasta."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. "Please tell me someone filmed it."

The conversation flows easily, almost making you forget about everything else. Almost.

"Oh yeah," Oscar adds casually, "ran into Franco at paddle today. He seemed pretty worried-"

"He better focus on preparing for his Red Bull seat instead."

"His what?" Oscar sounds confused. "Stinks, what are you on about?"

"Horner had meetings at Williams. About Franco. About possibilities. Sound familiar?"

"Hang on, hang on. Did you even talk to Franco about this? Because he genuinely seemed concerned-"

"Of course he seemed concerned, Os. That's the whole point."

"YN, I know you. You're doing that thing where you push people away before they can hurt you. But stinks, I really don't think-"

"I have to go. Sim data to review."

"At least talk to him-"

You end the call, turning back to your laptop. Three races left. Three chances to prove everyone wrong. No more distractions, no more letting your guard down.

You'll do it the only way that matters in F1 - on track, where lap times speak louder than friendly texts, and championship points mean more than shared coffee breaks.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You've managed three weeks. Three weeks of perfectly crafted indifference, of calling him "the Williams driver" in interviews, of taking different routes through the paddock just to avoid those chance encounters that used to make your heart skip. Three weeks of pretending you don't miss his stupid sparkle messages, or the way he always saves you a coffee during early practice sessions.

But now your hands won't stop shaking as you stare at your dark phone screen, trying to ignore the screens showing the mangled Williams in the Las Vegas Strip. You've watched the replay seventeen times without meaning to, each time feeling your heart stop at the impact.

"This is getting ridiculous," Max's voice is quiet beside you, making you jump. You didn't even hear him approach. "Stop with this nonsense."

"I'm fine," you respond automatically, thumb still pretending to scroll on your black screen. "Just checking the timing sheets."

"Your phone isn't even on." Max's hand appears, gently taking the phone from your trembling grip. "They've taken him to UMC. Just go."

"I can't," you whisper, finally looking up at your teammate. You hate how your voice catches. "Everyone will—"

"Who cares what everyone will say?" Max interrupts, already reaching for your bag. "Hannah's got a car waiting. Go."

"I don't want to," you protest weakly, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I don't need to—"

"Stop," Max's voice is firm but gentle. "You're not going back to this. Not after everything. You care about him, stop pretending you don't."

You take a shaky breath, then nod once. You're out of the garage before you can change your mind and rebuild those walls you've spent three weeks perfecting. Because Max is right – you do care. You care so much it terrifies you. And right now, nothing else matters except knowing he's okay.

You hate hospitals. You've spent too many hours in them after your own crashes, but somehow this is worse. Standing outside his room, you're suddenly unsure of everything. Three weeks of carefully constructed distance seems ridiculous now.

"You can come in instead of hovering at the door," Franco's voice carries from inside, slightly hoarse but still holding that hint of amusement that always used to drive you crazy. "Unless you're planning to run away again."

You step inside, trying to maintain some composure even as your heart clenches at the sight of him. "I wasn't running away," you say automatically, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"No?" He raises an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the movement. "So you just happened to take different paddock routes?"

"Franco—"

"It's back to Franco now? Not 'the Williams driver'?" There's hurt beneath his teasing tone, and it makes your chest tight. "That last interview was particularly cold, by the way. Very convincing."

You stay by the door, arms crossed. "I thought that's what everyone wanted. Space. Distance. Rivalry."

"You're here now though."

"Max made me come," you lie.

"Sure he did." Franco's small smile tells you he sees right through you. "Nothing to do with how many times you asked if I was okay over the radio?"

You feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he's heard the radio already. "I would have asked about any driver."

"YN," his voice softens, and it breaks something in you. "Stop pretending. Please. I miss my friend."

The last words hit you hard, and you finally let your arms drop, taking a step closer. "I miss you too," you whisper, and it feels like admitting defeat and victory all at once. "I was so scared when I saw the crash."

"Come here," he says quietly, patting the edge of the bed.

You hesitate for just a moment before crossing the room, carefully sitting beside him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "For these past weeks. For being harsh. For—"

"I know," he interrupts, his hand finding yours. "I know. But you're here now."

You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the walls you've built crumbling completely. "You could have died today and I would have never—" you stop yourself, running your thumb over his knuckles without thinking. "All because of this stupid seat."

Franco's quiet for a moment, then lets out a small laugh that turns into a wince. "Is that what you think? That I'm after your seat?"

"Aren't you?" You try to pull your hand away but he holds on. "The meetings with Christian, the—"

"YN," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him. "I never got any offers from RedBull.”

You freeze. "What?"

"I'm not taking your seat," he says softly. "In fact, I still don't have a seat."

"But...the meetings with Horner?" You're struggling to process this. "He basically told me they were considering options for next season, and those options were you in my seat."

"Sounds to me that he was pressuring you." His eyes hold yours. "My team had meetings with RedBull, yes. But we never got a solid offer, not even for VCARB."

You feel slightly dizzy. Three weeks of avoiding him, of building up walls, of convincing yourself he was just another driver trying to take your seat...

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" you finally manage.

"Well, you've taken the long way through the paddock just to avoid me," he teases, then becomes serious. "I wouldn't hurt you like that. You know that. Or at least, you used to."

"I got scared," you admit quietly. "When I heard about the meetings, I just... it was easier to push you away than to admit that I care about you."

The silence that follows feels heavy with everything unsaid. Finally, Franco squeezes your hand gently.

"Well," he says softly, "nearly dying seems to have worked out well for me then."

"That's not funny," but you're fighting a smile.

"Made you come see me though, didn't it?"

"I hate you," but there's no heat in it.

"No, you don't," he says confidently. "You just admitted you care about me. No taking it back now."

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I crashed a car at 200mph," he grins, then softens. "Better now though."

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liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,908,479 others

yourinstagram champion x4 🏆so proud to be part of this journey. no one deserves it more than you @/maxverstappen1. thank you for being the best teammate anyone could ask for, on and off track.

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username1 IM CRYINGGGGG

username2 this is my family

maxverstappen1 Couldn't ask for a better teammate and bonus little sister. Thanks for having my back all season 💪🏻

↳ username1 HE SAID SHE'LL ALWAYS BE MY TEAMMATE

danielricciardo Look at my kids making me proud 🥹

christianhorner Fantastic team effort all year. Proud of both of you.

↳ username1 FIX HER CAR AND STOP FEEDING HER TO THE PRESS!!

username5 the way max waited to celebrate until she crossed the finish line

username6 remember when they said they wouldn't get along

username7 brother sister energy we love to see it

francolapinto Amazing work 🙌

↳ username8 bro ready to take her seat

username9 their relationship is too pure. max adores her like she's his little sister and yn would take a murder charge for him pretty much

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After showering and changing post-race, you're walking back to your hotel room when your phone buzzes. Franco's name lights up the screen: "Hey... could you come to my room? Need to get my mind off today. Room 412."

You hesitate only briefly before responding. After everything that's happened - the crash, the hospital, the conversations that followed - things between you have felt different.

Qatar had been grueling, you managed to score a solid P4 but the story for Franco had been different. He was part of a collision during turn one that ended his race right there. You heard it on the radio and your heart couldn't help but ache for him.

When you knock, Franco opens the door looking drained, his usual spark dimmed by the day's events. He's changed into soft sweatpants and a team shirt, hair still damp from his shower.

"That bad, huh?" you say softly, following him into the room.

He drops onto the bed with a sigh. "First lap incidents are the worst. All that preparation, all those hours in the sim… gone in seconds."

You settle into the armchair across from him. "I saw the replay. That wasn't your fault - Hulkenberg came across way too aggressively."

"Doesn't matter whose fault it was. Points are points, and I need them." He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to recognize as stress. "The pressure's getting intense. Everyone keeps asking about next year's plans, and I just… I don't know."

"Hey," you say gently, moving to sit beside him. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there. Everyone sees it."

"Do they?" His voice is uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Because right now it feels like every mistake is being magnified. One DNF and suddenly everyone's questioning if I deserve the seat."

"I know that feeling too well," you admit. "I mean, I spent three weeks avoiding you because I thought you were after my seat."

That draws a small laugh from him. "Not my finest moment in the hospital, guilt-tripping you about it."

"It worked though, didn't it?" you nudge his shoulder playfully, "Plus, I guilt tripped you about Logan's seat for the longest time, it's only fair."

"Yeah, well, I was desperate. Do you know how hard it was watching you take different routes through the paddock just to avoid me?"

"About as hard as it was taking those routes," you say softly. "I missed you."

"You did manage to find some creative paths though," he teases, his mood lightening slightly. "I particularly enjoyed watching you duck behind Lando in the airport."

"I did not duck!"

"You absolutely did. Practically dove behind him. Poor guy had no idea why you suddenly needed an urgent conversation about sim settings."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "Well, what about you? Mr. 'Oh sorry, I didn't see you there' when we literally made eye contact in the media pen?"

"That was Oscar's fault! He told me my hair looked weird and I got distracted."

"Your hair always looks weird."

He gasps in mock offense. "Take that back! This hair has its own fan accounts."

"Yeah, horror fan accounts maybe," you tease.

"Says the person who needed my expert braiding skills before races."

"Which you learned from your sisters, if I remember correctly?"

His expression softens. "Actually… I might have YouTube'd it after Mexico."

That catches you off guard. "You… what?"

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "Spent like three hours practicing on a rope I found in the gym. Alex caught me and wouldn't stop laughing."

"That's…" you feel something warm bloom in your chest. "That's actually really sweet."

"Don't tell anyone," he grins. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"Oh yeah? What reputation is that?"

"You know, cool, mysterious, definitely not the type to watch hair braiding tutorials."

You laugh. "Hate to break it to you, but anyone who's seen you try to work the coffee machine knows you're not mysterious."

"That machine is complicated!"

"It has three buttons!"

"Three very confusing buttons," he protests. "Besides, you're the one who always shows up right when I'm struggling with it."

"Pure coincidence."

"Right," he smirks. "Just like how you 'coincidentally' started showing up earlier to breakfast after I mentioned that's when I usually go?"

You feel your cheeks warm again. "I just… wanted to beat the rush."

"The rush of exactly two other drivers who eat that early?"

"Shut up," you mutter, but you're smiling.

The air between you changes, becomes charged with everything unsaid. You're suddenly very aware of how close you're sitting, how his eyes have dropped to your lips.

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he leans forward and kisses you, soft and careful, like he's afraid you might pull away. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you feel yourself melting into the touch.

When he pulls back, you blink at him, slightly dazed. "You kissed me."

His familiar smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft. "Well done, Sherlock."

You roll your eyes at his sass, but can't help smiling. This time, you're the one who leans in, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is deeper, more certain. His hand slides into your hair as you press closer, and you feel him smile against your mouth.

"You know," he says softly, playing with a strand of your hair, "besides being one of my racing idols, you've also always been my crush."

You pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Don't let it go to your head," he grins.

"Oh my god," you laugh. "You were such a fan! Did you have posters too?"

He groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I'm never telling you anything again."

"No, no, this is great," you tease. "I'm just a year and a half older than you, Colapinto, and you completely idolized me."

"I hate you," he mumbles into your shoulder.

"No you don't," you say confidently. "You just admitted you had a crush on me."

He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Still do, actually. Although the real you is much more annoying than poster you."

"Poster me didn't call you out on your coffee machine struggles."

"Poster you was much nicer," he agrees, but he's smiling as he leans in to kiss you again.

This kiss is slower, deeper, filled with everything you've both been holding back. When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead against his.

"Been wanting to do that for a while," he admits softly.

"Even when I was avoiding you? Or giving you crap to defend my best friend's honor?"

"Especially then. Do you know how adorable you looked trying to pretend you didn't see me in the paddock?"

"Shut up," you laugh.

"Never," he grins, pulling you closer. "I have years of fan stories to make up for."

You kiss him again just to shut him up, but you can feel him smiling against your lips, and you think maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you're meant to be.

"You're never going to let me live down the fan thing, are you?" he asks when you break apart.

"Not a chance," you smirk. "I bet Alex has pictures of you practicing those braids too."

"Don't you dare!"

But you're already reaching for your phone, laughing as he tries to grab it from you, and somehow you end up tangled together on the bed, both laughing too hard to care about anything else.

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You're halfway through your coffee when Franco appears, wearing his team polo and that signature grin that used to irritate you but now makes your stomach flutter. It's still surreal how much has changed - from despising him for taking Logan's seat, to avoiding him over your seat rumors, to… whatever this is now. He slides into the seat next to you, leaning in for a kiss. You quickly place a hand on his chest, pushing him back playfully.

"Easy there, hotshot," you tease. "Let's keep it professional."

"Professional?" He raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, don't be shy now. Not after last week."

You feel your cheeks warm at the memory. "Last week was different. We were alone."

"Oh, so that's the rule? Only when we're alone?" He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Should we discuss what else happened when we were alone?"

"Franco!" You swat his arm, but you're fighting a smile.

"What? I'm just saying, for someone who used to avoid me like I had the plague, you sure changed your tune."

"Yeah, well," you stir your coffee, trying to maintain your composure, "turns out you're not as annoying as I thought."

"High praise," he chuckles. "Remember when you wouldn't even look at me in driver briefings?"

"Remember when you replaced my best friend and then tried to steal my seat?"

"I didn't try to steal your seat!" he protests. "That was all media speculation."

Before you can respond, Max drops into the seat across from you, already looking amused at finding you two together.

"Well, well," he says, reaching for the coffee pot. "If it isn't my favorite teammate and her… what are we calling this now?"

You roll your eyes. "We're calling it none of Max's business."

"Everything is Max's business," Max says cheerfully. "Especially when said business involves my teammate getting cozy with the competition."

Franco's phone buzzes and his expression shifts slightly as he reads the message, and you catch that flicker of worry he's been trying to hide all weekend. The weight of it being potentially his last race in F1 has been hanging over both of you.

"Engineers?" you ask softly.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Last pre-race meeting of the season. Hopefully not my last ever," he adds, attempting a joke that falls flat.

You reach for his hand under the table, giving it a quick squeeze. "Hey, you've shown what you can do this year. The pace is there, the talent is there-"

"The results aren't," he cuts in, running his free hand through his hair. "DNF and crashes don't exactly scream 'keep me for next year.'"

"The car's been shit though," Max speaks up, "Everyone knows that. You've outqualified your teammate and scored points."

"Try telling that to the team principals," Franco says, attempting a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Anyway, better go before they add 'chronically late' to my resume." He stands, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "See you later?"

"Of course," you say softly. "Good luck in the meeting."

Once Franco leaves, Max leans forward, "Okay, spill. Everything. Now."

"There's nothing to spill."

"Nothing to spill?" Max scoffs. "Last month you were convinced he was plotting to take your seat, and now he's kissing you goodbye at breakfast? That's not nothing."

"You don't need to know everything about my life, Max," you try to busy yourself with your coffee, that's pretty much cold by now.

"I'm the older brother you never wanted but got stuck with anyway, so I do need to know about these things."

You sigh, knowing he won't let this go. "Fine. After Qatar, things changed. We… spent time together."

"Spent time together?" Max wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not like that!" you protest, then lower your voice. "Well, not just like that. We talked a lot. About everything again - the rumors, the misunderstandings, why I was so angry about Logan, and… I don't know. It's different now. Good different. When I'm with him, everything just feels…" you trail off, searching for the right words.

"Right?" Max supplies, his teasing tone softening.

"Yeah," you admit. "Which makes this whole situation even harder. If he doesn't get a seat…"

"Then you'll figure it out," Max says, "But let's not write him off yet. Season's not over until the checkered flag."

You nod, but can't help glancing at the door Franco left through. "You know what's ironic?" you say, turning back to Max. "A few months ago, I was worried about him taking my seat. Now I'd give anything for him to have one, anywhere on the grid."

Max smiles knowingly. "Amazing what a few kisses can do."

"It's not just that," you protest. "He deserves to be here. He's so talented-"

"And you're completely smitten," Max interrupts, grinning.

"Shut up," You throw a napkin at him. "I'm getting a new teammate next year," you declare.

"No you're not," Max laughs. "You love me." He pauses, suddenly looking both nervous and excited. "Actually… want to know a secret?"

Something in his tone makes you lean forward. "Always."

"Kelly's pregnant," he says, a huge grin spreading across his face. "We just found out last month"

You practically leap across the table to hug him, nearly knocking over both your coffees in the process. "Oh my god! Max! I'm going to be an auntie!"

He laughs, hugging you back. "Actually…" he pulls back slightly to look at you, "What do you think about being a godmother?"

Your eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," he grins. "Who else would I trust to teach my kid how to properly terrorize the paddock?"

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm going to spoil them so much," you warn, hugging him again. "Like, an absolutely ridiculous amount."

"I know," he laughs. "That's kind of counting on it."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Just family for now," he says. "And you, obviously. Because you are family."

You're definitely crying now. "I hate you for making me cry before a race weekend."

"Sure you do," he grins. "Just like you hate Franco, right?"

You wipe your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment. "God, I can't believe you're going to be a dad!"

"Me neither," he admits, and there's something soft and vulnerable in his expression that makes your heart squeeze. "It's scary but… in a good way, you know?"

"You're going to be amazing," you tell him seriously. "The best dad ever."

His smile turns mischievous. "Just wait until Franco gets you pregnant-"

"And that's my cue to leave," you gather your things. "Congratulations again, future dad. I love you, even when you're the worst."

His laughter follows you out of the room. "Love you too, future godmother!"

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liked by maxverstappen1, francolapinto and 2,099,437 others

yourinstagram ABU DHABI WINNER! 🏆✨ still feels surreal to type those words. to win the last race of the season, after everything… no words can describe this feeling. thank you to every single person who never stopped believing in me, even when things got tough. to my incredible team - this one's for you. we did it! 🧡

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username1 SHE FUCKING DID IT

username2 first win of the season in the last race - poetic justice

username3 the way everyone doubted her at the start of the season and now look at her QUEEN BEHAVIOR

logansargeant YESSSS! That move was legendary! So proud of you!

username4 this feels so RIGHT

francolapinto Mi campeona 🖤 That last lap move was 🔥

↳ username1 IM CRYING OMFG

↳ username2 THEY'RE SO TOGETHER I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

username5 brb i'll be crying while i watch that video of her hugging franco

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You're still riding the high of your Abu Dhabi win as you unlock your apartment door. Your first win of the season, in the last race - it feels poetic, somehow. Like a final "fuck you" to everyone who doubted you, who questioned your seat, who spent the entire season speculating about your future.

The trophy sits in your bag, along with the champagne bottle Charles insisted you keep. Franco follows you in, still wearing that soft smile he's had since he watched you cross the finish line.

He's staying at your apartment since he doesn't have a place in Monaco and the now traditional drivers dinner is happening, after all you time together, inviting him over felt...natural.

The past few days have been a whirlwind - the podium, the celebrations, the multiple kisses stolen in your motorhome between media duties. The flight to Monaco where you both pretended to sleep but kept "accidentally" touching hands. It should feel fast, rushed, but somehow it just feels right.

"Still can't believe you pulled that move on the last lap," Franco says, dropping his bags by the door. "Even Max was impressed, I think you broke his brain a little."

"Speaking of broken, try not to destroy anything while you're here," you tease. "Some of us actually live in Monaco full-time."

Franco turns to you with mock offense. "When have I ever broken anything?"

"Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?" you raise an eyebrow. "Because I distinctly remember a certain incident with Lewis' scooter…"

"That was a manufacturing defect and you know it," he protests, moving closer.

"Sure it was," you laugh. "Just like the tablet in Singapore was a 'technical malfunction'?"

He's close enough now that you can smell his cologne, the same one that's been driving you crazy since Qatar. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," you confirm, but your voice comes out softer than intended because he's looking at you the way he has been since that first kiss in his room - like you're something precious.

"Guest room's down the hall," you say quickly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Bathroom's across from it, you know the drill."

Franco raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you're starting to know too well. "You're really going to make me take the guest room? After all our bonding?"

"Bonding?" you scoff. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Well, what would you call making out in your motorhome? And the plane bathroom? And-"

You cut him off by pressing your hand to his mouth. "Those were… moments of weakness."

He kisses your palm before moving your hand, and the simple gesture shouldn't make your heart race like it does. "Lots of moments."

"I was emotionally vulnerable," you argue weakly.

"Uh-huh," he steps closer, backing you against the wall. "And now?Are you emotionally vulnerable now?" His hands find your waist, and you try to ignore how right they feel there.

"I'm…" you start, but then he's kissing you, slow and deep, and you forget what you were going to say.

When he pulls back, you're both breathing heavily. "We should get ready for dinner," you manage.

"We should," he agrees, but kisses you again.

"Franco," you mumble against his lips. "We're already late."

"Five more minutes," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck.

It ends up being fifteen minutes before you finally push him away, your lips swollen and hair slightly messed up.

"Guest room," you point firmly. "Get changed."

He grins, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing his bag. "Yes, boss."

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yourinstagram has added to their close friends story

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You arrive at Lewis' Monaco penthouse a fashionably acceptable ten minutes late, Franco's hand resting casually on your lower back as the elevator opens to the top floor. The space is already filled with the familiar chatter of your fellow drivers, the city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Look who finally made it," Charles calls out, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Got lost on the way from your apartment? It's only three blocks…"

"Traffic," you say smoothly, ignoring Franco's poorly concealed laugh beside you.

"Must have been terrible," Alex joins in, eyes twinkling. "Considering you live literally around the corner."

Lewis appears, saving you from having to respond. He hugs you warmly before turning to Franco with a grin. "No scooters allowed inside this time, mate."

"That was one time!" Franco protests as everyone laughs. "And it was definitely faulty manufacturing."

The evening flows easily, conversation and wine flowing freely as everyone celebrates the end of another season. You find yourself constantly aware of Franco's presence - the way he automatically hands you your favorite wine, how his hand finds yours under the table, the soft looks he gives you when he thinks no one's watching.

(They're all watching. These are racing drivers - subtlety isn't their strong suit.)

"Get together, everyone!" you call out later, holding up your phone. "I want a picture."

There's the usual chaos of twenty-odd drivers trying to arrange themselves, plenty of shoving and laughing as everyone finds their spot. Franco ends up behind you, his chest pressed against your back, hands resting lightly on your waist.

"Alright, someone else take it," Lando announces. "YN's too busy making heart eyes at Franco to frame it properly."

"I am not-"

"You kind of are," Pierre interrupts with a grin.

"Just like in Abu Dhabi," Oscar adds. "And the flight home. And baggage claim. And-"

"I hate all of you."

The night continues with more conversation, more drinks, and constant teasing from your friends. Even Charles joins in, muttering something about "finally dealing with all that sexual tension in the briefings."

By the time you leave, you're both pleasantly tipsy, walking back to your apartment with slightly unsteady steps. The moment your door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts.

"So," he says finally, stepping closer. "About that guest room…"

"What about it?" you ask, but you're already moving toward him.

"I'm thinking," he cups your face with one hand, "that it would be a shame to use it."

"Would it?"

"Mhmm," he's close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips. "Especially when the winner deserves proper celebrations."

"Or maybe you're just being a horndog," you tease, even as your hands find their way to his chest.

"Maybe," he concedes. "Or maybe I just can't stop thinking about kissing you."

Your breath catches. "You've already kissed me plenty today."

"Not enough," he murmurs, then proves his point by capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is different from all the others. Those were stolen moments, quick and heated. This is slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize every second.

"Don't make me take the guest room," he murmurs against your lips.

You pretend to think about it, even as your hands slip under his shirt. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

"I can be very nice," he grins, then kisses you again, backing you toward your bedroom.

"Prove it," you challenge.

The guest room remains empty that night. And many nights after.

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liked by pierregasly, francolapinto and 2,044,387 others

yourinstagram i love my little dysfunctional family !! yes i'm the one behind the camera

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username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 FRANCO'S FACE ??? DEVASTATED BC HIS GIRL IS NOT NEXT TO HIM

lewishamilton Always family ❤️

oscarpiastri Never sitting between you and your lover boy again..

↳ username1 HUH??

↳ username2 oscar spill the deets PLEASE

↳ logansargeant to the gc NOW

↳ username3 LET ME INNNNN

↳ username4 im crying

↳ yourinstagram i hate you both

francolapinto ❤️

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yn's biggest fans groupchat

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You're curled up on your couch, watching the lights of Monaco twinkle through your window as snow falls softly outside. Franco's just finished unpacking his bags, having arrived from Argentina an hour ago. The past weeks without him felt strangely empty, even though you'd been surrounded by family for Christmas.

"Mama keeps asking about the foods I mentioned you cook," Franco says, settling beside you with a grin. "She's convinced I'm making it up."

"Did you tell her it's mostly pasta and those empanadas you taught me to make?"

"Si, but she says my standards have dropped since moving to Europe," he laughs, stealing some of your blanket. "How was your family?"

"Good. Dad's still buzzing about Abu Dhabi. He's watched the replay about fifty times, especially that last lap battle with Max," you grin, throwing your legs over his lap. "How was home?"

"Hot," he sighs contentedly. "Really hot. Nothing like a proper Argentinian summer."

"Meanwhile I was freezing in London," you poke his side. "Speaking of which… don't you have some news to share?"

He raises an eyebrow. "How did you-"

"Carlos texted me. He's terrible at keeping secrets."

Franco runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you've come to recognize. "I signed with Williams. As their reserve driver for next season, there's talk about 2026, but nothing concrete yet."

"Franco!" you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. "That's amazing!"

He hugs you back, letting out a relieved laugh. "You think so?"

"Of course I do!" you pull back to look at him. "Williams is doing great things, and with Carlos and Alex there…" you trail off, seeing something in his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing bad," he assures quickly. "Just… I'll be based in England a lot. For simulator work and development."

"Oh," you say quietly, understanding dawning. You'd gotten used to having him here, in your space, in the paddock, in your life.

"Hey," he tilts your chin up. "It's not that far. And I'll still be at all the races. Plus," his lips quirk up, "I hear Nice has a pretty good airport."

You can't help but smile. "True. And I suppose I could be convinced to visit Grove occasionally."

"Only occasionally?" he teases.

"Well, I am very busy and important," you say loftily, making him laugh.

His eyes drop to your lips. "I'm sure you can save some time for me," he murmurs before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is soft and familiar, like coming home after a long trip. When you pull back, he's wearing that small smile that always makes your stomach flip.

You settle back against him, comfortable silence falling between you. "Talk to me about next season," he says eventually. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Honestly? I'm nervous," you admit. "Abu Dhabi was amazing, but what if it was just luck? What if I can't do it again?"

"The same way Suzuka was luck? And Singapore? And that insane qualifying in Baku?" Franco shifts to look at you properly, "You've been fast all season. Abu Dhabi just proved what everyone already knew."

"Smooth," you laugh, then remember something. "Oh! Speaking of next year - what are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Nothing yet. Why?"

"Logan's throwing a party in Florida for his birthday. Want to come?"

Franco hesitates. "Won't that be…"

"What? Weird because you stole his seat?" you tease, making him groan.

"I thought we cleared that up months ago," he protests.

"We did, I just like messing with you," you grin. "Come on, it'll be fun. There'll be cake."

“You know my weakness,” he sighs dramatically. “Does this mean I get to kiss you at midnight?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll be my midnight kiss,” you tease, even as you lean into him.

“No? Planning on kissing someone else?” he raises an eyebrow, hands settling on your waist.

“Maybe. Logan might have a hot friend…”

"Terrible," he murmurs against your lips. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you whisper back, just before he kisses you again.

When you finally break apart, he's already reaching for the remote. "Want to watch Qatar?"

You groan, but you're smiling. "I hate you."

"No you don't," he says confidently, pulling up the race highlights.

And as he starts his terrible commentary, making you laugh despite yourself, you think about how easy this is - whatever this is between you. No labels, no pressure, just… this.

Outside, Monaco continues to sparkle under the falling snow, but in here, with Franco's warmth beside you and his voice in your ear pointing out "that brilliant move you did in turn 4" for the hundredth time, you think maybe some things don't need defining to be perfect.

Plus, you already know who your midnight kiss is going to be. Not that you'll tell him that - his ego's big enough as it is.

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liked by username1, username2 and 12,870 others

f1gossip Spotted: F1's power couple enjoying a day out in Monaco! Franco Colapinto and YN were seen strolling around today, looking very cozy! The pair, who have been subject to dating rumors seemed to have no interest in hiding their relationship anymore.

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username1 THE FUUUUUCK

username2 i don't like this..

username3 FRANCO GET AWAYYYY she's going to distract him

username4 why is this lowkey powerful

username5 THIS PLOT TWIST OMFG

username6 i thought they hated each other ??

username7 oh how the tables have turned

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Music pulses from Logan's Miami beach house as you and Franco make your way up the palm-lined driveway. The December air is surprisingly warm, fairy lights twinkling in every tree and reflecting off the pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your hand is loosely intertwined with Franco's, something that still gives you butterflies even after weeks of... whatever this is between you.

"Birthday boy!" you call out as Logan spots you from the entrance, where he's greeting guests in a ridiculous party hat and an even more ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.

"If it isn't my best friend and the guy who stole my seat," Logan grins, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Franco with an exaggerated suspicious look that quickly breaks into a genuine smile. "Good to see you, man."

"Happy birthday," Franco offers with a grin, accepting Logan's enthusiastic handshake-turned-hug. "Nice shirt."

"Right? YN said it was terrible, but what does she know about fashion?"

"Hey!" you protest, but you're laughing. "I have great taste."

Logan's eyes drift meaningfully to your joined hands. "Clearly," he smirks, making you blush and Franco chuckle. "Drinks are everywhere, food's by the pool, try not to fall in."

"That was one time," you mutter as Logan gets pulled away by more arriving guests.

Franco raises an eyebrow. "One time?"

"Don't ask. Come on, I need a drink before I tell you that story."

After getting drinks, you find yourself drifting between groups, Franco's hand a constant presence at the small of your back or linked with yours. It's nice, you think, not having to overthink every interaction, every touch. Here, away from the paddock and the cameras, you can just... be.

It's about an hour into the party when Logan finds you again, now sporting two party hats and what looks suspiciously like glitter on his cheek.

"Stinks! Just the person I wanted to see," he announces, dragging you away from where Franco is deep in conversation with Alex. "Back in five," he tells Franco with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.

"Subtle," you comment as Logan leads you to the makeshift bar.

"Please, subtle went out the window when you two showed up holding hands like teenagers at prom," he snorts, mixing drinks with practiced ease. "Speaking of which..."

"Don't start," you warn, but you're fighting a smile.

"Me? Start something? Never," he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I just find it interesting that the same person who spent three hours ranting to me about 'that arrogant Argentine who stole your seat' is now making heart eyes at him across my party."

"You're impossible."

"And you're happy," he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. "Like, really happy. I haven't seen you like this in… well, ever."

You look down at your drink, feeling your cheeks warm. "Yeah, well…"

"Hey," Logan nudges your shoulder. "It's a good thing. You deserve this, YN. Someone who gets you, who understands the pressure and the crazy schedule and still looks at you like you hung the moon."

"He doesn't-"

"He absolutely does. Trust me, I've been watching him watch you all night. It's disgustingly cute."

"I'm kind of scared, Logan," you look down at your hands nervously, "Six months ago, I hated him. And now I can't picture myself apart from him. It's all happening really fast and I'm not quite sure when everything shifted, but I feel like there's no going back now. And that's terrifies me."

"Stinks," Logan says gently, "you didn't hate him. You were hurt because of how everything went down with the seat, and you projected that onto him. I get being scared. This sport… it complicates things. But I've seen how he looks at you and how you look at him. It's okay to have feelings for him."

"How do you always know what to say?" you look up at him.

"Because I'm your best friend," he squeezes your shoulder. "Now go get your man. And please kiss him at midnight so I can win the bet with Alex."

"You bet on us?!"

"The whole grid did. I have fifty bucks riding on tonight!"

Later, as midnight approaches, you find yourself on the beach with Franco, fairy lights and stars twinkling above. Your conversation with Logan keeps playing in your mind, making you fidgety.

"You okay?" Franco asks softly, touching your arm.

"FIVE MINUTES!" someone shouts from the house.

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "Like, real feelings. And I know it's fast and complicated and I was horrible to you at first because I was hurt about the seat thing but then you were so nice and understanding and you brought me coffee after bad practice sessions and you defended me to the press and you make me laugh even when I'm trying to be mad and your accent gets thicker when you're tired which is unfairly adorable and-"

"THREE MINUTES!"

"-and sometimes I catch you looking at me in debriefs and it makes me forget what I'm saying and Oscar keeps making these knowing faces at us and I pretend to be annoyed but actually I kind of like it and-"

"SIXTY SECONDS!"

"-and I know this could complicate everything but I can't stop thinking about you and the way you smile when you see me in the morning and how you remember how I like my coffee and-"

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

"-and maybe this is crazy but I really really like you and I know we should probably talk about what this means for next season but-"

"FOUR! THREE!"

"-and I just needed you to know-"

"TWO! ONE!"

Franco cuts off your rambling with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other pulls you closer. You melt into him as fireworks explode overhead, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the celebration around you.

When he pulls back, he's wearing that soft smile that always makes your stomach flip. "You're so cute when you rant."

"I don't rant," you protest weakly.

"Mi amor, you just spent ten minutes listing all the things you like about me, including my accent."

"Shut up."

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want to be with you, YN. Officially, properly, no more undefined territory. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. I want morning coffees and post-race celebrations and quiet moments like this. I want all of it, with you."

"Yeah?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yeah," he confirms, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "I'm crazy about you, in case my terrible attempts at flirting haven't made that obvious."

"Your flirting isn't terrible."

He kisses you again, laughing against your lips. "So… is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "I don't know, Logan's friend is looking pretty good tonight…"

"Terrible," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I like everything about you."

Your heart skips. "Everything?"

"Everything," he confirms. "Even your terrible taste in coffee."

You laugh, bright and happy, before pulling him down for another kiss. Around you, the party continues, music and waves and distant fireworks creating a perfect backdrop to this moment. When you finally break apart, you're both breathless and smiling.

"Happy New Year," you murmur.

"The happiest," he agrees, and as he leans in again, you think that maybe some feelings are worth being scared of, especially when they lead to moments like this.

Plus, you just won Logan a bet. Not that you'll tell him that.

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theorphicangel · 2 months ago

Text

maybe I’m thinking about the moment sukuna sits yuji down and finally tells him the truth about him and reader

( full fic before this is here but not needed to read this drabble!!)

sukuna finally sits yuji down, it’s only the two of them in the living room with sukuna’s twin brother, Jin, away at work.

yuji was busy playing with his fire truck in front of the couch until he hears his uncle to come sit next to him.

'hey yuj' come here for a sec'

the little one comes by, his toy fire truck that sukuna had gotten him for christmas still in hand. his eyes are wide and curious, giving his uncle his full attention. just at this sight, sukuna feels his stomach drop.

how the fuck was he supposed to break it to a six year old that you won't be around anymore? yuji practically worshipped you, from the first time that he introduced the two of you, yuji got obsessed. he followed you around and bombarded you with questions, asking every little thing about you. he gave you his shitty drawings and you kept them, putting them on your fridge. you'd make time to sit and play with him, diving into yuji's imaginative world a whole lot better than sukuna ever did.

you were patient and caring around him which sukuna appreciated a lot, it made yuji look up to you and treasure you greatly.

but now...well it's not the same. you haven't come by in weeks and yuji's began to question your disappearance.

'well...' sukuna hesitated, his tongue suddenly caught in his throat. what were the right words? how should he phrase this correctly so that his nephew doesn't end up in complete tears?

'yuji, you know-'

yuji cuts him off, stating your name.

sukuna lets out a dry cough, 'yes...about her' he can't bring himself to say your name. '...well we broke up. a couple weeks ago.'

sukuna lets his words digest. yuji looks down at his lap, fiddling with his truck, trying to comprehend. 'broke up?'

'yeah,' sukuna sighs, 'we're not seeing each other anymore.'

silence forms in the living room excluding the clock on the wall suddenly loud in its tick-tick-tick-tick.

'so...she won't come over anymore?'

'no, she won't'

'oh, okay.' there's clear sadness in the six year old's voice, immediately disappointed and now sukuna understands what his brother meant when he said that it would hurt yuji more than it would hurt him.

sukuna throws a hand at reassurance. 'it's okay bud because you still have me... and-and we'll do fun things together alright?'

yuji nods before speaking again, reflecting a little.

'but aren't you sad?'

sukuna wasn't prepared for that question. he struggles to come up with a quick answer, hesitating. 'yeah...i am.'

'i don't want you to be sad 'kuna' yuji mumbles, kicking his feet.

'it's okay yuji, i'm-'

sukuna's words are cut off by yuji coming in for a hug. his toy is discarded with yuji now focused on the task of wrapping his tiny arms around sukuna's large frame. sukuna shifts yuji onto his lap and returns the hug.

sukuna barely hugs his nephew, only in circumstances where he knows he won't see yuji for a long time.

'i hope you feel better soon.' yuji mumbles, his voice muffled. sukuna says nothing more as suddenly his throat is caught and words fail to escape from his lips. if it didn't hit him before then it sure does hit him now.

he hopes yuji doesn't notice his eyes getting blurry.

#take it or leave it #sorry....#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader fluff #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jjk #jjk headcanons

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daycourtofficial · 1 month ago

Text

The shadow man’s secrets

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.5k | warnings: mentions of shackles and kidnapping

Summary: based on this request - the spymaster of the Night Court is harboring a secret and Nesta Archeron is determined to figure out what it is. What happens when she discovers the secret isn’t a what but rather a whom?

A/N: thank you to this request!! It’s late but this fic was so fun (wanted it done for Halloween but 🤡) Happy free day for @sjmromanceweek!

Something was going on with Azriel. The other members of the Inner Circle might not have noticed, but Nesta sure did. The shadowsinger always kept things close to his vest, his personal life a secret to his whole family. Nesta was certain he had an entire life they had no idea about.

But something had happened recently and Nesta couldn’t quite pinpoint what it meant.

Nesta had run into Azriel the other morning as if he were just coming back into the house, even though she knew he had spent the night at the House of Wind. It left her so confused, she spent the rest of the day confused and stuck in her own head.

These days he seemed to have less shadows following him about, the light allowing Nesta to see more of his face. The bags beneath his eyes had lessened and he seemed brighter. Azriel had even been a bit more vocal at family gatherings.

She hadn’t said anything when she saw him, merely nodded at him in greeting before he disappeared once more. She had turned the brief interaction over and over in her mind, searching for any detail she may have missed.

“He’s seeing someone.”

Cassian choked on his smoothie, a chunk of banana getting caught in his throat. The mated pair had been enjoying a quiet breakfast until the realization hit Nesta hard and fast.

Yes. He was seeing someone. Someone he cared about.

“You can’t be serious. We’ve talked about this.” Cassian looked down at the smoothie he spilt on himself, dabbing at his shirt with a towel as he spoke. The topic had come up before, but Nesta hadn’t felt so resolute and convinced as she did now.

“Cassian, I’m sure of it.”

“Have you seen this mysterious fae?”

“No, but-“

“Nesta,” he sighed, throwing the towel onto the counter, “Azriel’s love life has been a mystery to all of us for a long time. Believe me, if he’s keeping secrets, I want to be the first to know.”

Nesta let the words hang in the air, taking a bite of her bowl of oats. She watched Cassian’s face for a moment, an idea forming.

“Let’s find out.”

The couple made a plan they felt quite proud of: they’d covertly ask Rhys about Azriel’s upcoming schedule, and on the nights he was staying at the House of Wind, they would stay up and follow him out.

It sounded so easy, surely within a night or two they would catch where he snuck off to, finding him with a lover, putting an end to Nesta’s curiosity.

Cassian was quite proud of himself when asking Rhysand about their brother’s schedule. He had been debating all sorts of reasons as to why he should know Azriel’s whereabouts from planning a surprise for him to wanting to make him a nice meal. He knew Rhys would see through those reasons, so he went for a much simpler reason.

The two were lounging lazily in Rhys’s office, the deep purple curtains blowing softly in the breeze. Rhys had hummed after Cassian asked about Azriel’s schedule, finally looking up at his brother before Cassian quickly sputtered out.

“You know, so Nes and I can have alone time.”

Rhys tilted his head, analyzing Cassian’s face as he took the question in. He leaned back in his chair, a slight creak as his weight shifted.

“Since when have the two of you ever cared about having an audience?”

Cassian rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs, anticipating the question. He leaned in conspiratorially, dropping his voice as if Azriel would hear. “Well, we were talking and we felt a bit bad after everything at Solstice, ya know? We’ve been trying to be more delicate.”

Rhys rubbed his eyes, clearly not swayed on the reason, but not sure if he cared enough to know the full truth. “He’ll be gone Saturday through Tuesday, otherwise he has no commitments that aren’t small and local.”

The two continued on their ‘meeting’ - mostly drinking while Rhys reviewed mind numbing documents. It was rare Cassian got to spend time alone with Rhysand these days. Nyx and Feyre kept his brother’s attention nearly every moment of the day.

He didn’t harbor any ill will about it, but the crackling fire and silence transported Cassian back to a much younger body. One with less scars and aches, less sure of himself. How every evening of his youth was accompanied by Rhys and Azriel, the three complaining about whatever fresh new horrors training had laid upon them that day.

Had Az felt this distance with Rhys or even Cassian? Sure, he lived in the House of Wind with him, but the general hardly saw him. Guilt flooded his chest, trying to remember the last time he devoted any attention to Azriel directly.

Cassian spent the rest of his afternoon in Rhys’s office, thoughts far away from the brother before him.

For the rest of the week, Cassian went out of his way to seek out Az. He found him for meals, looking for him to do work together, asking to go on flights together. The sudden clinginess had met little resistance from Azriel, just confusion from the shadowsinger.

During the night, Cassian would leave his brother, and he and Nesta waited, lurking the halls of the House of Wind to see what they would find.

The first three nights were unsuccessful, the mated pair falling asleep in the hallway during their shifts before giving up and retreating to their beds. It felt odd staying up so late with little results, but the pair were determined to catch Azriel.

On the fourth and groggy night, the pair had changed to watching in shifts. Nesta took the first watch and would wake Cassian to take the second watch. Cassian agreed easily, exhaustion overtaking his body quickly after the extra training he had been doing with Azriel.

Cassian hadn’t slept for that long when he felt Nesta tugging the bond intently. He reluctantly got up, letting the bond drag him through the halls of the house. He finally found his mate standing at the balcony doors, urging him to hurry up.

“He just took off - we have to follow him.”

Guilt stirred in Cassian’s chest, an unpleasant pang creeping back in that he had a hand in his brother’s loneliness. He didn’t want to follow his brother, and wanted to afford him some privacy in the company he kept these days.

But the general scooped up his mate anyway, wings taking off, slicing through air currents. Cassian’s wings flapped slowly in the wind, trying to stay as silent as possible as the two flew over Velaris. His hands gripped tighter around Nesta as the air got colder, the altitude rising to hide between the clouds.

They followed Azriel to the outskirts of Velaris, watched him land at the gate to a small, quaint home. It was charming - a white house with wood trim, a round door, and a small garden in the front. Cassian glided in the air, watching Azriel walk into the home before he closed the door behind him.

After a moment, the pair made their descent, landing softly on the ground. After setting Nesta down, the two slunk through the night, making little disturbance as they made it to the front door.

Nesta pressed her long ear to the door, listening for any movement before gently reaching her hand out and twisting the knob. It moved with ease, a quiet one could only find in the dead of night.

The mated pair crept in, slowly shutting the door behind them before gazing at each other, a silent now what? exchanged in their glances.

They both took in the dark house, scanning across the bookshelves that littered the common room. Books were strewn about the place. Papers were scattered everywhere. Mugs sat out on the tables, lonely tea bags left in the bottoms of them.

This was certainly not Azriel’s home, Cassian thought. Azriel’s room was incredibly bare boned, not even appearing to be lived in. But this place, with a worn couch and still warm fireplace, called out a level of domesticity Nesta doesn’t think she’s ever had.

Cassian began tracing his thumb across the spines of books, none of the titles familiar to him. He was just about to sit on the couch when Nesta pulled him away, dragging him to a staircase. He wanted to stop the madness, guilt sinking into his gut at the invasion of privacy, continuing on in spite of what he knew was wrong.

The hallway was small, Cassian’s wings tucking in tight to squeeze through. Paintings hung on the walls, but it was too dark to make out the subjects. At the top of the stairs was a hallway which had three doors coming off of it. Cassian pointed his finger at the doors, moving his hand between them in decision. Muttering something under his breath, his finger landed on the door in the middle. The two began making their way to the door, until they heard shuffling from behind it.

The two quickly changed direction and moved into the closest room, closing the door quickly behind them. Cassian’s wings barely fit through the door, but he managed somehow, turning to gaze at the door, half wondering how he’s going to get out. Nesta’s hand on his arm made him still, the soft dig of her nails an unwelcome feeling for the first time.

Cassian turned, taking in the room they chose. Just as cozy as the rest of the house, the room was filled with knick knacks and trinkets, the place seeming well loved. He wasn’t certain what had stopped Nesta until his eyes landed on the bed, finding a female’s form covered by a large comforter.

The female slumbered, her breathing heavy as Nesta watched her. Her mind whirled, doubt creeping in that they had gotten this all wrong. Azriel had a girlfriend and that was that.

Nesta knew Azriel was a bit odd, always keeping secrets. A secret girlfriend shouldn’t surprise her, but the air still held a note of sinister to it.

She began turning away, pushing Cassian to go back to the door, when the female shifted, her foot moving out from the blanket and Nesta’s blood ran cold.

“Cass.”

A faebane shackle laid across her ankle.

She turned to Cassian, pointing her index finger at the shackle but it was too late. Something cold wrapped around her shoulder, a deep voice in her ear whispering, “what are you doing?”

Nesta let out a scream from deep in her soul before turning to find the shadowsinger behind her. He was towering over her, and it was then Nesta understood the icy rage so many had described him having. His shadows were slithering all around him in agitation, his stare making Nesta’s stomach plummet. She shot out a fist, instinct kicking in before Azriel caught her hand, holding it tight.

Hazel eyes had targeted onto hers, his hand holding tight around her fist as she tried to push him off her.

“Let her go, Az.” Cassian’s jaw clenched, preparing to fight his brother. Cassian was shocked at this secret life his brother had. He knew that the shadowsinger had an unsavory job, but he never thought his brother could resort to this.

“Not before she tells me what the two of you are doing here.”

“What we are doing here? You’ve kidnapped someone, Az!” Her free hand flung out to the direction of the female on the bed, surely drugged by how the rocuse hadn’t woken her. Azriel’s eyes followed Nesta’s hand, his jaw ticking at having been caught.

“She’s none of your business.” Any warmth Azriel had shown Nesta was gone from his voice, a cold timber that nearly made Nesta collapse.

Cassian put an arm around Nesta’s shoulders, trying to pull her away from Azriel. “Brother, what are you doing? Why is she-“

“She’s none of your concern.” Azriel’s voice was clipped, sharp with agitation. He stepped toward them, his shadows peering over his shoulder making him seem a foot taller. “Now, why are you two here?”

Cassian growled at his brother, forming a shield in front of Nesta. His blood was roaring, Illyrian drive revving up in preparation for anything. Azriel stood his ground, a menacing shadow towering over Cassian.

The general looked back at the bed, the split second he spent watching the steady rise and fall of the female’s breathing lasting almost a lifetime.

A hundred possibilities moved through Cassian’s mine, a slideshow of what ifs and regrets. He knew the best course of action now was to flee, to run, to get Rhysand. If Azriel had gone rogue, truly going off the deep end, were Cassian and Nesta enough to fight him?

He didn’t wait to find out. Cassian turned his back on his brother before grabbing Nesta’s waist. He carried her to the balcony in a sprint, crashing through the doors before taking to the skies with Nesta in his arms.

“Cassian, we have to go back! We have to save her.” Nesta’s words were accented with her fist making contact with Cassian’s shoulder.

“Nesta, if what we saw was real, we have to tell Rhys. We can’t fight this by ourselves.”

The General had never flown so fast before, yelling for Rhys in his mind only to get no response. The pair landed on a balcony outside the River House that Cassian knew led directly into Rhys’s study. After setting Nesta down, he opened the door, stopping as he saw both of his brothers already conversing.

“Cassian,” Rhys purred, irritation twinkling in his eye the only hint at his annoyance. “How lovely for you two to join us.”

Nesta wasted no time as she stormed in, squaring up to Azriel. The shadowsinger still towered over her, but she did not back down.

“I trusted you.”

Her finger jabbed into his chest. It didn’t do anything other than pain Nesta’s finger, but she did it again to drive the point home.

“I trusted you with my friends, the priestesses, my sisters! I trusted you!” Each word was emphasized with a jab of her finger into his chest. He snarled back at the accusations, but remained quiet.

“Was this because of Solstice?” Cassian chimed in from behind his mate. “Certainly there were better options than this!”

“Do you find me so inloveable I’d resort to- what exactly?”

“Sit down, all three of you.” A High Lord’s command had the three fae tensing. They all sat promptly, Nesta moving her chair closer to Cassian.

“Rhys, look into my mind, you have to know what I saw.”

Rhys held up a hand, his jaw setting in annoyance.

“I was woken up by Azriel, something that hasn’t happened in centuries. Now, I want to hear from all of you what happened.”

Cassian and Nesta began speaking at the same time, their words jumbled on top of each other. Rhys sighed before he looked to Azriel. “You woke me up, I’ll hear your side first.”

“This situation is no one’s concern.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows. “Well, if there’s no concern, why did you wake me?”

Azriel opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Nesta. “None of our concern? You had a female hostage, Azriel!”

Azriel bared his teeth at his sister in law, “she is not some female and she is not your concern.”

Cadsian and Rhys stared in shock at Azriel’s outburst, neither brother getting a word in before three light taps hit the wood of the door. All four fae turned as the door opened, a female in her pajamas coming into view.

“Um, hi.”

All heads turned to the doorway to find Feyre escorting a female in. Hair unbound, she wore a long shirt and nothing else, exposing her legs to the cold air.

Azriel stood quickly, knocking his chair back to get to the door in three quick strides. He reached out his hands, gently placing them on her shoulders. The female raised her hands, rubbing his in a soothing motion.

“You don’t have to.”

Azriel was met with a glare before a soft “I know” could be heard if Nesta strained her ears just enough.

“It’s nice to meet you all, despite the strange circumstances.”

Cassian looked on in confusion, each moment curiouser than the last. Nesta watched the reactions of everyone around her - Azriel stood in the doorway next to a confused Feyre, and Rhys sat back in his chair, arms crossed at the chest.

“None of you know me, but it feels like I know all of you from how much Azriel speaks of you.”

Azriel cut in, his hands going back onto her shoulders, his wings wrapping around her in a possessive stance. Shadows circled the pair incessantly, twitching in agitation, huddling close to both as if protecting them.

“She is my mate.”

The room was completely quiet at the revelation, no one moving to break the spell of the atmosphere. Azriel’s shadows swirled around the room, whether fighting or dancing, Nesta couldn’t tell.

“I think you killed them.” A soft giggle came from her, unable to help herself as she saw the most famous family in the Night Court at an utter loss for words.

“Hush, you.” Azriel gently squeezed her arm, watching the faces of his family. They all stared back, jaws practically hanging off the hinges. It was Cassian who spoke up first, his hand scratching the back of his head.

“Then why was she chained to your bed?”

A sad smile graced her lips, the endearingly sleepy look gone. “Oh, um, it’s quite a story. My brother could wield the shadows, but when he died a few years ago, his shadows just flocked to me.”

Cassian looked more closely, and could tell a slight difference in the shadows in the room. He didn’t think much of them initially, assuming they were just Azriel’s, but now he could make out two distinct groupings of darkness: one pool was erratic, moving with no plotted course, the other seemed to follow them, trying to corral them closer.

It was truly a sight to see. He was mesmerized by them, like a child watching fish pass by in a tank.

“Then why the shackles?”

“Oh!” Nesta wanted to roll her eyes, not expecting Azriel’s mate to cause her such anguish in such a short span of time. “I’ve been having issues lately where I shadow walk while dreaming. It’s really not ideal.” Hands moved to her bag, pulling out a set of keys that jangled as they came free. “Azriel thought of it - but he ensures I always have a set of keys nearby should I need to escape.”

”And why have you been a secret from us?”

“My fault, again. I don’t have the best hold on my shadows and they like to tell me everything so I’ve basically been a homebody unless Azriel’s around.”

They stared blankly, the three fae still not quite wrapping their heads around her existence.

“It’s just really difficult taking in all the new information all the time like how my High Lord is smiling and how he has his shoes off beneath the desk and how Nesta’s nails are digging into her palms-“

“I think that’s enough, dear.”

Azriel ran a soothing hand down his mate’s hair, the action soothing her shadows.

“But I promise he’s not hiding me against my will. In fact, that’s my house you two broke into.”

The color drained from Cassian’s face as he leaned forward, “I’m so-“

Her hand waved him off. “Azriel warned me his family was nosey. I figured it was only a matter of time until he found out how nosey you lot were.”

Cassian looked sheepish, leaning back in his seat, avoiding the gaze of both of his brothers.

“Will we see you again?” Nesta sounded almost sheepish, insecure. She didn’t want to convey how badly she wanted to know Azriel’s mate. She always held a soft spot for the shadowsinger, and she wanted to probe more answers out of her.

Azriel and his mate shared a glance between each other, the adoration shining in their shared look. It was enough for Nesta’s hackles to fall back down and be satiated.

For now.

“I’m sure you will.” Despite the hour, despite the fact they broke into her home, she was all smiles and brightness.

“Now, I’d like to escort my mate back to bed. Surely the two of you-“ Azriel pointed fingers at his brothers, “should do the same.”

Azriel led his mate to the balcony before gently picking her up, carrying her off into the night. The three fae sat in silence, watching his form get smaller and smaller. The doors stayed open, the soft wingbeats and giggles carried through the house on the wind.

Header by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-angst @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl @quiet-loser @thegreyjoyed @paankhaleyaaar @acoazlove

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124 @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar writing #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #sjmromanceweek2025

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hannieehaee · 6 months ago

Text

BOY WITH LUV (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: a new job as a barista should be easy enough, right? except it gets a whole lot more complicated when the coffee shop's most loved client just decides he has to have you OR richboy!jk falls for barista!reader and refuses to give up.

content: richboy!jk, downbad!jk, barista!reader, sub-ish!jk, reader plays hard to get just for plot purposes, jk is down horribly bad for reader, afab reader, smut, dry humping, jk's the embodiment of needy, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.8k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: october 22nd

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: downbad!jk is back!

masterlist | patreon

"Anyways just be careful with how many pumps you add to drinks. Customers can be extremely sensitive about that kind of stuff. Trust me," rambled on your new trainer, Jen? Jess? Something like that.

You watched disinterested, already having had a menial barista job in the past and being well aware of the high expectations of disgruntled customers. You, too, had been verbally harassed by one too many people in dire need of a drink far too specific for the average person to memorize. It was still appreciated, though, the effort she took in walking you through every step to ensure you did good at your new position.

Despite your focus on the task being demonstrated to you not being at its best, you did take notice when Jean(?) stopped her mentoring and instead spilled some of the drink she was currently making, clearly now equally as distracted as you. Her focus was no longer on the counter you were practicing drinks on, but instead looking past you and towards the counter a few steps behind you.

You meant to call out her name to question her, but without an angle on her name tag or any confidence in actually remembering the correct name, you simply grabbed at a nearby towel and cleaned off the mess, not bothering to look at whatever was distracting her. It was too early for you to bother.

Snapping out of her trance mere seconds later, she tapped at your shoulder urgently, her voice now a whisper as she leaned close for you to hear what she was about to say.

"Oh my God, don't look, but that's Jungkook," she whispered excitedly, as if letting you in on information you had any context about — hint: you had no idea who nor what she was referring to.

Turning around, you eyed another one of your new coworkers tending to the line at the counter, but more specifically helping out some guy. Focusing your eyes on him, you could now understand why his presence had caused a short-circuit in Jane (?) and why she felt the need to announce his presence to you.

The distraction in question presented itself in the form of a very tall and fit guy, one with a fully tattooed sleeve and dreamy black curls. Other outstanding attributes were the very obvious muscles encompassing his entire body and the shine that came from the various piercings on his face. In short, the man was nothing short of a dream straight from a Pinterest board — and the charisma radiating from his mere presence did not help matters.

"He's a regular. No one really knows much about him other than he's rich. He tips like 200% above his total," continued June, still leaning in your direction to whisper.

You felt bad at how obvious you were whilst staring at the boy, but he was likely the prettiest one you'd seen in a while. The blank expression in your stare did not tell on you, but it did not deny the fact that you were staring.

"We take turns serving him," your coworker informed you, "Sometimes we fight over it. He's a natural flirt, but he does it with everyone, so we're not sure if he's taken or not," she proceeded to tell you benign details about him that had you nodding along as you continued to stare at him.

The usually fast-paced place seemed to slow down when he entered the coffee shop, with most baristas' attentions going to him rather than their jobs. If he was aware of it, he was good at ignoring it, instead giving a flashy smile to the lucky barista currently tending to him. From the short distance between you, you were unable to hear his conversation, but you still had a perfect view of him as he simply existed. He could easily see you, as there was nothing in his way, but he hadn't yet, somehow oblivious to the attention he was receiving from all other baristas in the house.

As time stood still for everyone else, it continued normally for him. He paid for his drink, having it quickly bypass all other prior orders and made immediately by one of the many girls fawning at him. God, even the two baristas working the drive-thru had taken a short break from it go gawk.

It wasn't until moments later that Jungkook seemed to get a taste of his own medicine, with his own time suddenly coming to a halt. As he turned around to leave, sweet drink now in hand, his eyes incidentally met yours, causing him to pause mid turn and do a double take in order to catch your eyes again.

It was ridiculous, really. Almost too identical to those moments you'd see in those dumb romcoms you used to enjoy as a teenager. Except this was actually happening. And it was happening to you. As all your new coworkers watched his every move with extreme attention.

His eyes widened a bit. It was something the naked eye might've missed, but not you (nor the other five girls watching). His head tilted a bit to the side — maybe in curiosity due to not having seen you there before (Joanne did mention he was a regular). A ghost of a smirk took over the natural smile that had been on his lips since arrival. And lastly, a nod was sent your way — a nod in acknowledgment to your presence, but also with a flirtatious hint to it. It was hard to describe. You simply had to be there.

You remained watching him with a poker face throughout. The same poker face you'd had since clocking in to work that morning. It wasn't that you were mean or not a people person, you simply hated work. You'd been told you had a bit of a resting bitch face and gave a mean impression to those who didn't know you, but that was beside the point. The pretty boy whose attention you'd caught had gotten lucky, though, as he at least received the ghost of a smile from you before he left.

The first thing to occur upon his departure was a squeal from your left. The perpetrator? Julie (or whatever her name was).

"Oh my god!," she let out, grabbing onto your shoulder so you'd face her, "Did you see that?"

"See what?", you asked, not 100% sure of what had just happened.

"He totally checked you out . He's never done that before. Maybe he likes you? God, don't let Lila find out, she's got a huge crush on him," she informed you, once again assuming you knew who the hell Lila was.

"Hah, I think he might've just been surprised to see a new face," you downplayed, "What were you explaining before he got here? The thing with the pumps and the-"

"He comes here every morning at 8 or so. How about you take his order tomorrow? Y'know, just to test my theory," she suggested, disregarding your question.

"Orders? It's my first day here. Isn't training like two weeks lon-"

"It's fine! I'll be shadowing you. You'll do great! Now let's get back to your training-"

"Jane! I need more change at drive thru!", called one of the drive thru girls, interrupting your conversation.

"Coming, Lila!", she responded, giving you a polite smile before handing you the shaker she had just been holding, "Just practice some drinks how I taught you. I'll be right back to show you how to work the register."

So her name was Jane. And that was Lila.

At least you learned something today.

...

you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!

reply if you'd like to be tagged!

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts x reader

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k3n-dyll · 9 months ago

Text

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

#lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #abby anderson #☆kennie's works #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader

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roanofarcc · 7 months ago

Text

GETTING EVEN

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader

summary. after tyler owens saved your ass, you return the favor. (part 2 to this fic)

warnings. descriptions of injuries and tornados. reader is the daughter of jo & bill harding (from the og movie!). hurt/comfort (tending to each other wounds? hot). tyler’s the number one loverboy and I stand by that.

a/n. fun fact, my sister's mother-in-law also survived a tornado by hugging a light pole!

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

You stabbed a piece of pancake on your plate, determined to ignore your mom as she spoke from the stove. “Would it be the worst thing in the world?”

“Yes,” you and your dad answered at the same time, meeting each other's eyes with a small smile.

Your mom, Jo, sighed deeply and spun around to face the two of you, one hand on her hip. “He’s nice! He’s handsome and-”

You groaned, feeling a teenager again, mortified that your parents are bringing up any aspect of your love life. Ever since Tyler Owens had helped you to the hospital after a tornado took you and your friend by surprise during a chase, your mom wouldn’t let you go five minutes without bringing him up.

You were back in town, staying at their farm as another slew of storms were forecast for the surrounding area. Your team was due in later that night, all crashing with your parents, which was their idea. They wouldn’t admit it outright, but that was one thing they missed the most about their storm-chasing days, the friendships formed within their team. Your mom brought out her aunt’s recipes and cooked a big dinner, and your dad was harassed into telling stories of their storm-chasing adventures- which he secretly loved.

Since the storms were predicted to be pretty wicked, you knew Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers would be around. And while you would rather die than tell your mom, you were excited to see him again. The competition between the two of you for an arbitrary ‘best storm chaser’ title was left behind after you woke up in the hospital to see him still there with you. Instead, your relationship inched more toward friends; though, your mom seemed convinced it was something more.

“Look, if our daughter isn’t interested in running away with some tornado-wrangling cowboy, I don’t think we should encourage her to,” your dad, Bill, said.

“I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway,” you added. You were too engrossed in your research to think about a relationship, serious or not. You were content with your team. And your mom’s little fantasy would require Tyler to be interested in you, which you found unlikely.

Yet, your mom persisted. “We did it,” she said, pointing between herself and Bill. “We balanced both work and a relationship. It’s not impossible.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and you two almost got divorced.”

Your dad laughed into his coffee mug, hiding it as your mom huffed.

The thrill of storm chasing, running down backroads as a twister roared beautifully across the ground, wasn’t the only reason you did it. That was only one part of the job. Then there was the research. But the hardest part was trying to help people. Tornados were wondrous but dangerous. They ruined lives, tearing through towns. And while warning systems and radars had advanced significantly since your parents' days, nothing was perfect. That’s why you were the first people to rush into a crowded town directly in the path of a storm and do what you could to ensure people’s safety.

When a member of your team noticed one of the storm cells you were watching was heading towards a little downtown area not too far from your parents’ farm, you all decided that was where you needed to be, instead of chasing after the storm further west.

You were close, beating the storm to town, and when you arrived you realized the Wranglers had the same idea. The second you stepped out of your truck, the harsh winds knocked into you. The sirens just started, warning the people of the quickly approaching storm. People were running down the sidewalks, hurrying into buildings to shelter.

You jumped into action, hurrying some slightly dazed people to safety, along with your team. The storm inched closer, and you knew you only had a few more moments before you needed to take cover yourself to ensure you didn’t get whisked away. You’d lived through enough tornados to know what to do with little fear, but ever since your close call with your team member Frankie, earning you a couple stitches on the back of your head and a newfound appreciation for Tyler, your nerves were a little heighten; you become a little more cautious.

You turned on your heel to hurry towards one of the buildings, but you caught sight of the tornado wrangler on the other side of a parking lot, searching for something.

Pressing your lips in a hard line, ignoring the drum inside your chest that started to beat a little faster with the closeness of the storm, you took off after him.

“Tyler!” you yelled above the howling wind that threatened to knock you off your feet. Rain beat down against your skin, soaking you to the bone. You called his name once more as you neared, finally earning his attention.

“Harding? What the hell are you doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing? Taking a mid-day stroll?”

He shook his head, forced his wet hair out of his eyes. “Some kid’s dog got spooked, ran this way, but I can’t find her.”

You glanced up at the sky, the dark clouds giving the allusion of nighttime. There was a little tremble in your hand, but you steeled your nerves. “Dogs are smart. She’ll find her way, but we’re goners if we don’t get a move on.” He frowned, clearly torn between helping a lost dog and saving himself. “My team and I will help you look after; I promise.”

With a sigh lost to the wind, he nodded and pointed toward the building others had filed into. “There’s a basement in the library.”

Together, you two took off in the direction of the library, but the storm rolled in much quicker than you anticipated. It came in with a vengeance, peeling objects off the ground, big and small, with ease and tossing them all around. You ducked, nearly missing a chair that once belonged to one of the downtown restaurants' patios. Your heart started to race uncomfortably, inching toward fearfully.

Tyler grasped your hand, tugging you to the side as more debris whizzed past you. The rain made your grasp slippery, but you squeezed his hand tightly. There was too much distance to cover, and the tornado was determined to put every possible obstacle in your path.

It became harder to run but you felt so sure you and Tyler would make it; that was, until the tornado came around the block, tearing into a building and sending the debris in your direction. You didn’t even know what hit you until you felt Tyler’s hand slip from yours and your chin collided with the pavement. A cry of pain fell from your lips, but you rolled over quickly, in search of Tyler. He wasn’t far, just out of arms reach, on the ground.

You half crawled over to him, tugging on his shoulder until you noticed the look of pain twisted on his face. Your gaze trailed down to his leg and found his foot stuck under a heavy beam plucked from the building the tornado tore through.

“Shit,” you whispered, grasping the beam with your slippery hands and desperately trying to lift it off. It wouldn’t budge, crushing Tyler’s ankle.

“You gotta go!” he yelled, trying to wave you off with his hand frantically.

You stared at him in disbelief. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and the rain clouded your vision. There wasn’t a chance you were going to leave him. Your chest felt impossibly tight, pulling more and more with an indescribable fear you’d never experienced before. Using some kind of strength you didn’t know you had until that moment, you managed to lift the beam just enough for Tyler to pull his bloodied ankle out from under it.

“Come on,” you cried, trying to help him to his feet. He grunted in pain, pale and breath labored.

“We’re not gonna make it,” he wheezed out, talking about the library the tornado was already upon. You made a sharp turn, bee-lining toward the building you landed directly in front of.

There wasn’t even time to get inside. Instead, you half helped half dragged Tyler to where there was a large light post cemented to the ground. It wasn’t much, but there were no other options. Tyler sat on the ground, pulling you down quickly beside him before he wrapped his arms around the pole. You hooked one arm too but kept your other pressed against Tyler’s head. You could take another hit, but you weren’t sure he could.

You closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer that everyone would be okay. The storm roared, stinging your ears and tugging on you harshly. But, somehow, the both of you remained hugging the light post until the tornado dissipated after an excruciating amount of time. That was the thing about tornados, when you were chasing them, they never seemed to last long enough, but when you were in them, they never seemed to end.

Shaking from a mix of adrenaline, fear, and cold you unwound your arm from the pole before you brushed your hands along Tyler’s shoulders, drawing his attention, and making sure he was still there.

You two sat nearly nose to nose, droplets of rain decorating his face, falling his lashes as he tried to blink them away. “Are you okay?” you muttered, voice shaky.

He let out a breath and tried to shift in his position, but his face twisted up in pain once more before he cursed under his breath. You glanced at his ankle, his jeans were stained with a smear of crimson, but the rest was hidden under the fabric.

“I think it’s just a sprain,” he said, trying to shrug it off but you saw through him. You struggled to your feet and moved to help him, but he tried to stand on own. He leaned heavily on the light pole, trying to hide a wince.

You heard his and your name being called in the distance. You hooked an arm around his torso, gazing at him for a moment. “Come on,” you said, gently guiding him back towards the road. As soon as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you spotted your team and a couple members of Tylers.

“Holy shit!” Frankie gasped, running towards you. “What happened to you two? We thought you were right behind us?”

Tyler tried not to lean on you, but you felt his grip tighten on your shoulders with each step. “I think we need to take him to the hospital,” you said, worry seeping into your voice.

Kate and Javi snapped their gaze at Tyler, who shook his head. “No, really, I’m fine. I think it’s just a little sprain,” he repeated.

Kate looked at you, half ignoring Tyler. “What happened?”

“His ankle was crushed under some debris.”

“I’m right here,” Tyler said. “And I said I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital. But we’ve gotta find that dog-”

“You mean this lil’ guy?” Boone asked. He and Lily stood with who you assumed was the kid who lost the dog, but who was now cuddling it in his arms with a wide smile on his lips despite the destruction all around them. “He came runnin’ out just a minute ago. Smart dog.”

You smiled softly, looking at Tyler who sighed in relief. “I told you.”

“I think the nearest hospital is…” Javi trailed off, looking at his phone with furrowed brows. “Twenty minutes south, just off the interstate.”

“I’m not goin’ to a hospital. I’m telling you guys, I’m fine-”

You huffed loudly. “Are you always this stubborn?”

At the same time, Kate, Javi, Boone, and Lily all replied, “Yes.”

You realized you probably weren’t going to convince Tyler to get his ankle checked out at the hospital. “Fine,” you sighed. “But you’re not gonna patch yourself up in some grimy motel, got it? My parents don’t live too far from here. You all can crash there.”

“Are you sure?” Kate asked.

“Positive. My parents were thrilled to have my team staying. They won’t mind a couple more people.”

“Wait,” Javi said. “Your parents. Like, your parents as in Jo and Bill Harding?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

He and Kate exchanged a look that bordered on giddy.

Tyler shifted at your side, pulling out his truck keys and you thought he was out of his mind if he thought he was going to try to drive with his clearly busted ankle. You reached over and snatched the keys quickly. “You’re riding with me, cowboy,” you said before tossing the keys at Kate. She caught with between her two hands, eyes slightly wide before a smile broke out across her lips.

“I’m driving!” Kate said before she quickly turned on her heel before anyone could protest, Javi following close behind her.

“You be careful with my truck Sapulpa!” Tyler shouted.

You all arrived at your parents' place and helped a limping Tyler out of your truck. He tried once more to hide just how much pain he was in, but it didn’t work. As you walked up the driveway, he smirked, a little lopsidedly. “Already taking me home to meet the parents, huh?” You wanted to smack him but decided his sprained ankle was enough punishment already.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t you be talking like that in front of my mom. She’ll start planning the wedding.” You were only half joking. You knew the second she opened the front door and saw you standing side by side with Tyler’s arm slung around you, even though it was strictly to keep himself upright and pressure off his ankle, her imagination would run wild.

He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat and said, “At least let me buy you dinner first.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before the front door was swung open and out stepped your mom. Her eyes flickered between the two storm-chasing teams all trailing behind you before they landed on you and Tyler. You saw the little twinkle in her eye, but it vanished when she noticed the state everyone was in, soaked clothes, a little in pain, and in a slight daze.

She hurried down the step, grasping your face and gazing at the nasty cut on your chin from where you collided with the road. “Everyone okay?” she asked, eyes drifting over to Tyler.

“Not exactly,” you replied. “Tyler’s got a busted ankle. I think everyone else is pretty okay. But cold and hungry.”

Your mom clapped her hands together. “Well then, let’s get you all fed and cleaned up then. Come on,” she said, ushering everyone inside and exchanging greetings.

You helped Tyler into the bathroom before you dug around for the first aid kit underneath the sink.

“You know-” Tyler started but you glared at him.

“If you tell me you’re fine one more time Owens…” He held up his hands in defense, pressing his lips together. Once you found the kit, you sat on the floor and carefully rolled up the leg of his jeans. Whatever damage his ankle took was hidden under his boot. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you said.

You tried to be as careful as you could, tugging off his boot, and he tried to act like it didn’t hurt like a bitch, but the way his eyes screwed shut and hands clenched into fists in his lap told you otherwise. As soon as it was off, he let out a shaky breath and you assessed the damage. His ankle was swollen, bloodied, and overall in pretty bad shape but considering he could put a little bit of pressure on it told you it wasn’t broken. He was right about the sprain, but it was a fairly bad one.

Working quickly but carefully, you cleaned up the dirt and blood before wrapping his ankle. “Feel any better?” you asked. He nodded as you stood to your feet. “Good. Are you hungry? I’m sure my mom’s made enough food to feed an army-”

“Wait,” he said, grasping your hand, turning you back around to face him before you could reach the door. “You fixed me up, now it’s your turn.”

You furrowed your brows. “What?” His eyes dropped down to your chin, where you’d smacked it against the road when you fell. “Oh. No, it’s just a little scratch-” he cut you off.

“Are you always this stubborn?” he teased, using your own words against you. With a sigh, you slumped your shoulders in defeat.

“All right, but at least sit down. Your ankle’s not gonna heal otherwise.” He listened, retaking his place on the toilet lid as you sat on the edge of the tub right beside it. He grabbed an alcohol swap from the kit and grasped your face with one hand. His fingers were cold from the rain but gentle as they tilted your head upwards just slightly so he could clean the cut on your chin.

You couldn’t help but study him. The brightness of his eyes and how they narrowed when he concentrated, and how he pulled his bottom lip just barely between his teeth. Something twisted in your stomach, and you were suddenly very aware of just how close he was. You had been nearly nose to nose with him earlier, in the aftermath of the storm, but the calmness of your current setting made the closeness feel different. The way his hand softly held onto your face made your breath hitch, and it was impossible for him not to notice. His eyes flickered up from your chin, awkwardly covered with a band aid, and met yours.

“Thanks for saving my ass out there,” he said, voice just above a whisper, like he too didn’t want to break the calmness that was steady in the room.

You tried to ignore the patter of your heart that quickened as with his little smile. “I owed you for saving mine.”

“Guess we’re even know, huh?”

You nodded, words lost on your tongue. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you dropped your gaze onto his lips for just a moment before you met his eyes, searching for something. But your wishful thinking died with a startling knock on the door that caused you both to flinch back and away from each other.

“Everything all right in there?” your dad’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

You cleared your throat, quickly standing to your feet. “Y-Yeah. We’ll be out in a second!” A shaky laugh left your lips as your turned to Tyler, who stared back at you with cheeks slightly pink. “We should…”

“Yeah, y-yeah.”

After everyone showered and cleaned themselves up, your mom and dad handed out plates and everyone dug in. With full stomachs and dry clothes, the collection of storm chasers all crashed around the house. You lay in your childhood bed, squished alongside Frankie while two other members of your team were asleep on an air mattress on the floor. You tried to sleep, but all you could think about was Tyler, who was just downstairs in the living room. The rest of the evening consisted of you two tip toeing around each other, bordering on avoiding each other in the company of everyone else.

With a quiet groan, you slipped out of bed and headed toward the kitchen, careful to be quiet. Your mom’s words followed you, gushing about Tyler. Would it be the worst thing in the world? You had said yes, but you didn’t really mean it, how could you? This was Tyler. Sure, he was a little reckless and you’d seen him get a little rowdy at a country bar, but he was also the kind of person that looked for lost dogs in the middle of a tornado and who stayed by your bedside at the hospital until you woke up. He was obnoxiously great. You didn’t know how to deal with it.

In the bathroom, just hours ago, you wanted to kiss him. And a part of you thought he wanted to kiss you too, but the moment was broken too fast for you to know for certain.

You poured yourself a glass of water before leaning against the counter, eyes focused out the window at the sliver of moon that poked out from behind the clouds. Somewhere behind you, the floorboards creaked, causing you to spin around with a start.

Tyler paused, wincing at the noise he made before he whispered, “Sorry.”

You didn’t do it on purpose, but it was like at the sight of him your lips automatically tugged upwards in a smile. You felt a little ridiculous about it but tried to play it off by clearing your throat.

“I told you that couch was uncomfortable,” you said, voice low to not wake the snoring Wranglers in the next room.

“It’s not,” he replied.

“You should be elevating your ankle.”

“I know, I know. Doctor’s orders, right?” He smiled too. “I was just grabbing some water.”

You said nothing as you reached back into the cabinet and pulled out another glass before filling it at the sink. You handed it to him, your fingers brushing for just a second before he took the glass with a quiet ‘thanks’ and you pulled away.

“I should…” You pointed behind you, ready to retreat back to your bedroom and let your Tyler-occupied mind slip away. But he caught your elbow and set down his glass of water. He didn’t say anything as his hand slid up your arm to your shoulder, then to your cheek in a similar way he held you earlier. You were back to being nearly nose-to-nose for the third time that day. Only this time, it was Tyler whose gaze flickered to your lips before he closed the short distance.

Softly and quietly, you pressed your lips against his, pressing your hands against his chest. His hands were warm on the sides of your face as his lips moved against yours. You parted after a moment, breathing a little heavier, and your chest beat with something new.

You leaned in once more, kissing him a little harder but pulling back quicker. “Good night, Tyler,” you breathed out.

He beamed, cheeks rosy. “Good night, Harding.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters fanfic #glen powell #twister 1996 #jo harding #bill harding #kate carter #javi twisters

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happypeachsludgeflower · 3 months ago

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SVSSS BRAINWAVE JUST HIT! I HAD A THOUGHT ™

An average modern person transmitigates into SVSSS. Mind you, I specifically mean SVSSS and not PIDW. That’s right, our protagonist awakens to find themselves as a NPC in the world of Scum Villain Self Saving System. And they think to themselves upon waking up, “Oh, I’m an NPC in a xianxia novel with a happy ending! Cool!!” and goes about their life being a background nerd geeking out about plants, and monsters, and cultivation in general, and neat flying swords.

But this is a world of sex pollen and wife plots and unfortunately the cure for a lot of diseases is duel cultivation with a heavenly demon, and we all know who that demon is going to end up marrying, so it’s best to mess around with meta cultivation knowledge and prep for the worst case scenario, and honestly, they may as well solve some of the minor issues in the plot while their at it, so they invent some new cultivation techniques from some of those nifty svsss fanfictions they read while alive (I’m specifically thinking of this fic’s explanation of duel cultivation and cauldrons, but other weird cultivation methods could be used from other fanfics and xianxia books), so they can tidy up some things.

For instance, is it really necessary for Zhuzhi-lang to be stuck as a weird snake creature for nearly twenty years? Is it really needed for Yue Qingyuan to have crippled cultivation due to his sword?? Does Tianlang Jun have to be stuck under a mountain and then escape only to slowly die in a decomposing body??

They know they can’t change everything without the system interfering, but small nudges should help right? After all, they’re just a background NPC and Shen Yuan will show up eventually and everyone will fall in love with him and no one will even notice the NPC’s existence even if they had noticed something was up during their miraculous healing and salvation spree.

So they go about fixing those things. They catch Zhuzhi-lang unawares and feed him a sun and dew mushroom seed while he’s confused and do some funky cultivation shenanigans and pat him on the head cause he’s really such a cute weird snake creature and give him some vague warning about not trusting in laws and then fucks off to somewhere else.

I’m still caught up on Metagaming’s concept of duel cultivation transactions where you give and take—like taking something from someone’s cultivation, not just power, and returning something else—and keep getting stuck in a brainrot loop of the NPC taking some bloodmite powers from Zhuzhi-lang when they gave him a fully humanoid form that’s not reliant on Tianlang Jun. So my main idea for how the NPC plots to hold Yue Qingyuan in place is feeding him lesser bloodmites (not full ones because they only took a minor ability and can only hold someone for a few minutes before the bloodmites die), while they hold Yue Qingyuan still long enough to draw some ritual to heal his soul and separate it from Xuan Su. But honestly, I’m sure other ideas could apply here too. My Metagaming brainrot is just too strong right now to think of any.

And Tianlang Jun? Simple. Zhuzhi-lang’s got a humanoid form and can easily get the sun and dew mountain flowers for himself. They can’t stop the man from being imprisoned entirely. The system says no since Luo Binghe needs a dramatic entrance. So while they can’t stop the tragedy, they can put some pieces into play for an early escape, maybe a new plan to get him a better body once’s he’s back, and be a ferry for Su Xiyan’s body to revive her at some point as well.

It’s nice being an unnoticeable NPC, isn’t it? You can do whatever you want and no one’s going to know!!

Except. Someone does notice (as we all could have seen coming). And Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as fuck of this obnoxious Shidi because he notices everyone due to paranoid, and he’s even MORE suspicious of the mysterious character that healed Yue Qingyuan’s soul (and wasn’t that a doozy of a realization to have when Yue Qingyuan burst into his bamboo house one day freaking out because some disguised, powerful cultivator somehow did the impossible after ambushing him and holding him down as they healed his soul, and Shen Qingqiu is still reeling from learning that Yue Qingyuan’s SOUL was damaged trying to save Xiao Jiu and the stubborn asshole never told him because he apparently assumed Xiao Jiu knew there wasn’t a single universe where Qi ge didn’t try to come for him). And so yea, Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as all hell and starts snooping and plotting to catch the mysterious cultivator by combing through Cang Qiong because whoever it is has to have an in at the sect somewhere to know about Yue Qingyuan’s soul.

And that’s not even mentioning how suspicious Zhuzhi-lang and Tianlang Jun are now. They might not have realized what that strange cultivator did when they did it, or understood the cryptic in law mention, but they certainly have some suspicions now that Tianlang Jun was as imprisoned by in law like people, and Zhuzhi-lang kept his humanoid form just fine without Tianlang Jun, and now the hunt is ON for the mysterious benefactor, so they can repay the kindness and find out what the fuck is going on.

The NPC is, of course, oblivious to all of this going on and goes about their merry way thinking they’re being the Best ™ at being lowkey. They are SO good at being inconspicuous!! They deserve an award really!!

And then. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t qi deviate.

Shen Yuan doesn’t show up.

Oh shit, the NPC thinks to themselves as they begin to panic. They even check Shen Qingqiu out themselves to see if it’s Shen Yuan just being really good at acting. Maybe he was a better actor in the book than he gave himself credit for or something?? But no. That’s Shen Qingqiu all right. Shen Yuan is missing in action, and someone has to fix the plot of Cang Qiong is doomed.

Thus begins the NPC’s journey to try and unobtrusively fix PIDW’s child abuse problems (that they’re unaware are already fixed), save Liu Qingge from his qi deviation in Ling Xi Caves, make sure Luo Binghe doesn’t raze the sect to the ground someday and hopefully find him some sort of husband replacement to keep him under control when he does return, possibly dispose of the Huan Hua Palace Master at some point because he’s vile trash, and did I mention there are multiple man hunts for this poor oblivious dude currently on going??

And the most important question for them to solve? Where the fuck did Shen Yuan go??

Hmm I wonder where that man could have gone.

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starlightkun · 3 months ago

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⇢ word count: 6.9k ⇢ genre: fluff, established relationship, secret relationship, office workers!jisung & reader, holiday themed, a bit of a crackfic (everyone in this is slightly unhinged and you should NOT act like them in your actual workplace PLEASE), appearances from absolute nuisances nohyuck (mainly hyuck being a nuisance and jeno being a desk candy bowl thief) and chill boss johnny (he’s actually the only normal one around this office fr), part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: lots of discussions of sex/sleeping together (nohyuck have an absolutely unhinged plot to have reader hook up w jisung w/o realizing that they’re already dating, shenanigans ensue) ⇢ extra info: this was originally going to be part of want from me, but i felt like i was losing the plot a bit, so i tweaked some stuff and made it its own fic instead this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok i may be stretching the concept of a ‘cheesy hallmark movie’ in this one, but there’s a holiday party. sue me. ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.

“What happened to hello? How are you?”

“I get why you didn’t want to tell anybody when I was interviewing,” Jisung sighed as you adjusted his tie for him. “But don’t you think everyone’s formed their own opinions about me by now?”

“You told me Mr. Kang called you Joosung yesterday,” you pointed out. “We agreed after your three-month evaluation, remember?”

“That’s next month!”

“Two weeks. December tenth, to be exact, will be three months since you started.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled you closer by your hips, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you.”

You rested one hand on the nape of his neck, the other stroking his hair. “I hate it too. I was in the bathroom yesterday and overheard a couple of the women from budgeting talking about you. Apparently one of them wants to ask you to the holiday party.”

He lifted his head up, squinting with confusion. “Wait, was it Song Minji from budgeting?”

“Yes…”

“Yesterday she asked me if I was going, I said yes, then she asked if I had a date, and I said no, and she said she didn’t either. Then she just stared at me. It was really awkward, so I told her I had to get back to my spreadsheets and walked away.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as your boyfriend continued looking down at you with absolutely endearing confusion. Patting his cheek, you informed him gently, “She was waiting for you to ask her to the party, baby.”

“Well, even if I knew that, I wouldn’t have,” he huffed.

“I know, Sungie,” you kissed his cheek. “I know.”

“Good.”

You glanced at the time on your bedside clock, tapping his arm indicatively. “We’ve got to go.”

“Y/N, someone from bookkeeping will be over to pick these receipts up today,” Mr. Suh, your boss, informed you, setting a large banker box down on the ledge behind your computer monitor.

You nodded. “You sure you don’t want me to just take them over there now?”

Bookkeeping was on the same floor as your team, just on the opposite side of the large office building.

“No, I’ve got six more boxes in my office. They should be coming with a dolly. I’ve got a lunch meeting, then I’m on-site at a build. Can you make sure they get them all?”

“Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.” He smiled and reached into your candy bowl, securing a chocolate for himself before heading off towards the elevator.

As you continued working up your reports, another figure approached your desk.

“Hi.” Jisung smiled down at you from over the banker box.

“And what is a bookkeeping gremlin doing over here?” You teased, having already spotted the bright orange dolly next to him. “They let you guys out of your cages?”

“Just me, because I’m on a mission.” He did a little mock salute, making you giggle. He then looked between the dolly and the box. “But I don’t really think this was necessary…”

“There’s six more boxes in Mr. Suh’s office,” you informed him happily, pointing to your boss’ door.

“Oh.”

Two of your team members, Donghyuck and Jeno, congregated around your desk then as well, Jeno zeroing in on your candy bowl as always, and Donghyuck snooping at what you were doing on your screen.

“Boring!” Hyuck declared, hitting CTRL + S on your keyboard to save it for you before exiting out of the program. “Lunchtime!”

“Hey, I was working on that, you know,” you protested, keeping up your usual banter with your work friend.

“Now you’re not,” he shrugged.

“Actually, you were chatting with…” Jeno trailed off, looking at Jisung expectantly.

“Jisung,” your boyfriend filled in.

“—You were chatting with Jisung when we got here,” Jeno finished, popping another chocolate in his mouth and tucking it in his cheek to talk around it. “So you weren’t really working.”

“She was telling me where the other boxes of receipts were,” Jisung explained quickly, gesturing to the dolly. “I’m supposed to pick them up. I’m from bookkeeping.”

Hyuck scanned him from head to toe. “You’re new, right?”

He nodded.

“Come to lunch with us.”

“No, Hyuck,” you snorted, cutting up your food as your coworker attempted to show you a picture of another one of his friends over lunch. “The last asshole you set me up with stood me up, remember?”

“I told you, Jaemin got a stomach bug!” Hyuck insisted. “And that was like, over a year ago!”

You looked at him pointedly. “And he could text you but not me? Think about it.”

“Okay, so he was a flake, but Mark is like, a really good guy!” He elbowed your other coworker next to him. “Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno shrugged. “Eh, he seems like the kind of guy to call you ‘bro’ in bed.”

“Not the kind of back-up I meant!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Why are you thinking about what Mark would call you in bed, Jeno?” You snickered.

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you mimicked him.

Hyuck pushed on in his seemingly never-ending pursuit to set you up with his also never-ending pool of single friends. “Ignore him, Y/N. Will you at least consider? For me? Your bestest friend?”

“I never see you outside of work functions,” you pointed out.

“Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?”

“Whatever. Send me his CV,” you said noncommittally, taking a bite of your food.

“On it!”

“Wait, he’s applying for a job?” Jisung finally spoke from his seat beside you, his confusion apparent.

“No, that’s just what they call whatever information Hyuck sends her about the guys he tries to set her up with,” Jeno explained for him. “It ends up being pretty much the same stuff that’s on a résumé, though.”

Hyuck then focused in on a new target. “Jisung, what about you?”

He froze. “What?”

“Are you single?”

“Uhm—”

“Lie if you have to,” you advised. “Once he smells blood, you’re done for.”

“I’m not a shark!” Hyuck took great offense to this comparison. “I’m-I’m like Cupid!”

You let out a derisive laugh at that, stabbing your fork into your food and lifting your next bite to your mouth.

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Jisung answered hurriedly.

Hyuck narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So you’re bringing her to the Christmas party.”

“I-I don’t know, we uhm—we just started seeing each other.”

“You’ll bring her to the next monthly mixer, then?”

“I’m pretty sure this is workplace harassment,” you stepped in on Jisung’s behalf, giving Hyuck a disapproving look. “We had a seminar, remember?”

“You’re not curious?”

“No, I don’t care to see you bother poor Jisung for the rest of our fleeting lunch break.”

“Fine, I won’t disturb Y/N’s precious lunch break,” he gave in melodramatically. “But I want to hear about her when we get back to the office, Jisung.”

When you and Jisung got home that evening, you waited until the two of you had gotten out of your work clothes to address the pout on his lips that had been present ever since lunch.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting at your dining table with him.

He started unpacking the to-go food. “Why did you tell Donghyuck to send you that guy’s info?”

“To get him to shut up about it. He would’ve done that for our whole lunch break, Sungie.” You shook your head, watching as he avoided your eyes. “Are you jealous? It’s not like I’m actually going to do anything with it.”

“I know, but I still don’t like that he’s sending you dating résumés, and it’s apparently been a regular thing?”

“Okay, I know we made it sound like it happens all the time,” you agreed. “This is like the third time, including the guy who stood me up last year. When you and I started dating, I told Hyuck not to bother anymore. But then he heard that I wasn’t bringing a date to the holiday party, and he started his little matchmaking thing again. That’s why I never told you, because there never was anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of something, baby,” Jisung murmured, reaching for your hand over the table.

“Do you want me to block him or something?”

He sighed. “No, of course not.”

“Damn it, I was hoping you’d say yes. I’ve been looking for an excuse for years.”

He finally chuckled at that, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Here.” You brought out your phone and stood behind him, maneuvering your arms around his shoulders so he could see your screen as you opened your texts with Hyuck and started deleting the most recent ones debriefing you on his newest eligible bachelor for you.

“Wait a second.” Jisung stopped you before you could delete all the pictures that Hyuck had sent.

“What?”

To your surprise, your boyfriend actually opened one of the pictures of the guy.

“Jeno was right,” he snorted, closing out of the picture.

“Wh—Oh,” you started laughing. “Yeah, absolutely.”

You finished deleting everything about the guy, then shut your phone off. “All gone. Can’t even remember his name.”

Jisung pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks, baby.”

“And I’ll tell Hyuck no more in the future. Sound good?”

“No, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think you need to be subjected to the interrogation I went through today.” He leaned his head against yours affectionately.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

“Aw, thank you, Sungie.” You kissed his hair then hugged him properly. “I knew that. It was cute to see you get jealous, though.”

“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.

“What happened to hello? How are you?” You blinked up at him incredulously, rescuing your writing utensils and pushing them to a far corner.

“No time, we need to save our new favorite little bookkeeping gremlin.” He quickly saved your project and closed the window on your computer.

“And you think having sex with me is the cure for cancer or something?” You snorted. “They really wasted their money on your slot in that workplace harassment seminar.”

“No, look, he’s in an awful, awful situationship. I know he said she’s his girlfriend at lunch the other day, but he doesn’t have any pictures of her, he didn’t want to show me her social media. He said she probably wouldn’t be able to come to the mixer because of her ‘work schedule’—” Hyuck used finger quotes around the words ‘work schedule’ “—but the way he said, it sounded like he was just preemptively making excuses because he knew she would turn him down. I asked him about their first date, and you want to know his answer?”

“What?” You asked dryly.

“That they don’t really do ‘that stuff!’” More air quotes.

“Okay?”

“Then I asked what stuff they do do, and he turned bright red!”

“So he’s lying about having a girlfriend to get you off his back.”

“Mm, she sounded pretty real.”

“Okay, maybe he’s twisting the truth and he’s got a fuckbuddy and he still doesn’t want you playing matchmaker,” you suggested another alternative. “Either way, you should leave him alone.”

“No, look, I’ve got this all figured out. He needs to be reminded that there’s women other than this girl—”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “How do you have a rotating roster of men to throw at me, but somehow the only woman that comes to mind for your braindead plan is the one in your immediate line of sight? This is confirming my suspicions that you get no bitches, Lee Donghyuck. Have you talked to a single woman other than me and your mother?”

“Listen, it has to be you so nobody catches feelings!”

“So you’re saying I’m unlovable?”

His eyes widened comically as he went to backpedal. “No, of course not! I meant—Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno, who had been silently leaning against the ledge behind your computer monitor this whole time, happily snacking on the red and green Hershey’s kisses in your candy bowl, slowly finished off the one in his mouth before speaking. “Here’s the thing—”

“You condone this?” You scoffed.

He shrugged. “It’s like, his second-worst idea. Marginally better than setting you up with Na Jaemin.”

“Why do I bother asking for your back-up?” Hyuck muttered.

“But he doesn’t think you’re unlovable. He just knows that you’re a professional, and Jisung is still a newbie and works in a different department. So obviously, there’s like no risk of catching feelings if you guys do… Because work, you know?”

You sat back in your chair, glancing between the two of them dubiously. “Do you two think these are normal things to say to people? At work? To your coworker?”

They looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes, beginning to stutter apologetically.

“I’m in,” you declared abruptly, watching their jaws drop. You then focused your next sentence at Hyuck specifically. “If you’ll stop trying to set me up.”

“Done,” he agreed immediately.

Jisung had excitedly told you about the results of his three-month evaluation to you over dinner that evening, and as you two cleaned up after, you relayed your conversation with your coworkers to him.

“I finally got Hyuck to stop setting me up. Permanently,” you announced in a sing-songy voice, drying the last dish Jisung had just handed you before putting it up in the cabinet.

“Really? Did you find out he killed someone or something?” He asked, shaking the water off his hands over the sink before grabbing the towel hanging in front of it to start drying his hands.

“Nope, he just asked me to do something.”

“Oh, and who do you have to kill?”

“Nobody.” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind him. “You see, he’s very concerned that this ‘girlfriend’ of yours doesn’t like you as much as you like her.”

“I know we’re literally coworkers, but he needs to get a job,�� Jisung retorted.

“Why did you say we didn’t go dates when he asked about our first date?”

“I was afraid you might’ve mentioned it before and I didn’t want him to connect the dots if I told the same story.”

“You couldn’t come up with a fake first date? Carnival? Arcade? Dinner?”

“I was panicking!”

“Anyway, he thinks you’re in a toxic situationship, and that the only solution is for me to sleep with you.”

“Wait what?!” His muscles flexed and contracted under your hands with his words, and he seemed almost oblivious as you continued roaming them over his front.

“Because we would never catch feelings for each other, obviously,” you informed him with mocking seriousness, making him scoff.

“I assume you told him to fuck off and stop setting you up anyway?”

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

You finally put a hand under his shirt to touch his bare skin, and he shivered and jerked away instinctively.

“Ah! Cold hands, baby,” he whined, but made no further moves to get away.

“Then let me warm them up, Sungie,” you giggled, pressing your fingers more intentionally against his skin. “Anyway, why would I pass up the perfect opportunity to fuck with Hyuck and fuck my hot boyfriend at the same time?”

“I don’t think I like how similar that phrasing was.”

“Sungie,” you dragged out the last vowel pleadingly.

“So you’ve got a scheme?” He asked knowingly.

“A fun one,” you promised, kissing his neck. “In multiple senses of the word. But it means everyone finding out we’re together a few days later than we planned. Is that okay?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Alright. What’s first?”

“I’ve got to hold up my end of the deal, of course.”

Donghyuck and Jeno were quick to swarm you first thing in the morning. They at least brought you a coffee this time. There was no work up on your computer yet for Hyuck to close out of, so he just made himself at home on top of your papers that were on your desk instead.

“Okay, we need to brainstorm,” Hyuck got right to business as Jeno dug into your candy bowl. Well, not the business you were actually sitting inside of, but his plot. “The holiday party is on Friday. I’m thinking if you start being a little flirty leading up to it, like casual, you know, not too much, that should warm him up.”

“The more planning you put into this, the creepier it gets,” you informed him, taking a sip of your coffee.

The elevator dinged then, and Jisung stepped off, eyes focused on his feet as he hurried off towards the break room. The elevator opened towards your side of the floor, while bookkeeping was on the other side, and the breakroom, storage closet, and copy room were situated at the midpoints on the floor.

“Jisung’s late?” Jeno commented, bewildered. “Didn’t he say he always gets here ten minutes early to make his coffee before everyone else?”

Hyuck looked at this as well, eyes narrowing. He turned back to you and Jeno. “Did you guys see that big hickey on his neck? Now he’s running late and wearing the same tie as yesterday? This is why we need to help him. Anyway—”

You shifted in your seat then, readjusting your blazer so that it ‘accidentally’ pulled your blouse just enough to show off a love bite situated on your collarbone.

Hyuck actually froze in place, staring at you as he short-circuited. Jeno gave you a quiet, short round of applause.

“Damn, you work fast,” he commented.

You looked down at where Hyuck was staring, as if belatedly realizing your mistake, moving your neckline back up to cover it again.

“You really…” Donghyuck trailed off, blinking rapidly as he began rebooting.

You shrugged. “Didn’t want to announce it like we were in a locker room.”

“He’s walking over here,” Jeno coughed under his breath.

And sure enough, Jisung approached your desk. He looked uncertainly at Donghyuck sitting next to you, and ended up standing by Jeno behind the ledge, finally looking you in the eye.

“H-Hi, Y/N,” he stuttered nervously.

“Morning, Jisung,” you greeted him brightly. “Kiss?”

“Huh?!” He squeaked.

“Hershey kiss?” You pointed to the bowl that Jeno was grabbing another candy from. “They’re caramel filled.”

“O-Oh. Sure, thanks.” He took a green one. “S-See you later.”

“Bye.”

With that, Jisung skittered away, back off towards bookkeeping. Hyuck and Jeno both turned to you with wide eyes.

“I’ve made a grave miscalculation,” Hyuck whispered.

“That boy is pussy whipped,” Jeno whistled lowly.

You rolled your eyes at them. “Or maybe you guys were looking at the two of us with flashing ‘I KNOW YOU HAD SEX’ signs over your heads.”

“Oh, did I forget to leave that at home again?” Hyuck replied snidely, mockingly swatting just above his head. He then leaned in to whisper-yell at you, “Do you actually have the cure for cancer in there because what the hell was that?!”

“Good morning, Mr. Suh!” You chirped at your boss as he walked by.

Hyuck sat up straight, saluting to your boss. “Good morning, Mr. Suh!”

“Mornin’, Mr. Suh,” Jeno said through a mouthful of candy.

“Morning, morning, morning,” Mr. Suh greeted each of you in turn, then yawned. “Ugh, is it Friday yet?”

“Not quite, unfortunately,” you chuckled.

At home that night, you were keeled over with laughter on your couch, clutching your stomach as you and Jisung recalled the looks on your coworkers’ faces this morning.

“Who knew you were such a good actor, Sungie?” You choked out through laughter, wiping at your tears.

“I just had to act like I was madly in love with you, that wasn’t acting, baby,” he smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I’ve had to act every day at work except today.”

“So smooth, Park Jisung,” you giggled, kissing him.

“It’s the truth.”

“I know. You’ve never been smooth, just honest. And I love that about you.”

“Ouch, and also thanks?”

You snickered and kissed his pout. “Ready for tomorrow?”

Stepping off the elevator in the morning, you didn’t spare another glance to Jisung, who had ridden up with you. Typically, you would take separate elevators, one of you waiting for the next one, but today, you broke that rule. You dropped off your purse at your desk before going to the break room and making your usual cup of coffee.

Jeno and Donghyuck were already waiting for you at your desk. You rolled your eyes at them. “You two have your own desks, you know?”

“You and Jisung got here at the same time,” Jeno stated.

“Is there a question in there?” You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Did you get a new shampoo?” Donghyuck asked, leaning forward to sniff the air around your head.

You swatted at him. “Personal space?”

“That doesn’t smell like a woman’s shampoo…” He went back in for another sniff.

“Quit it, freak!” You rolled away from him.

“What’s happening?” A third voice had joined you all, right on time. Jisung was at your desk, cup of coffee in hand.

“Nothing, Jisung.” You threw on a bright smile, scooting back up to your desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I-I just uhm, I wanted to say good morning. And I brought you some coffee.” He offered the cup out to you.

“Aw, thanks,” you said sincerely, then looked down at your own cup on your desk regretfully. “But I already got some.”

His face fell. “O-Oh. I guess I’ll—”

“Hold on, Jisung!” Donghyuck stopped him from leaving, hopping off your desk. Jisung froze in place as your coworker grabbed his arm. First, he took the coffee from his hand and set it on the ledge behind your monitor, then he grabbed your boyfriend’s collar and yanked him down to take a deep whiff of his hair. Jisung yelped at the rough treatment, arms flailing until Hyuck let him go, giving him a loud slap on the shoulder. “That’s all. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Lunch later?” Jeno offered to him. “All four of us.”

“S-Sure,” he looked at you and blushed before hurrying away.

You crossed your arms as you glared at Hyuck. “You literally just assaulted him.”

“And you—” He pointed at you dramatically, “—slept with him again. That’s his shampoo that I was smelling on you.”

“I think my extracurriculars are none of your business.”

“Mm, Jisung’s more of a co-curricular, don’t you think?”

Jeno snickered.

“I think it’s still none of your business.”

“This wasn’t the plan, Y/N.”

“I did your stupid plan, Hyuck. Why are you so obsessed with Jisung’s sex life? Is it because you’re not getting any?” You taunted.

“Nice attempt to deflect, but the plan was to get him to stop being strung along by that other girl. Not for you to start stringing him along.”

“You make me sound like an evil witch.”

“So you’re serious about Jisung then?” Hyuck gasped mockingly. “Adorable. Gonna be each other’s date to the holiday party? When are you meeting the parents? Have you picked a ring yet?”

You bit down on your lip and looked at your lap to avoid laughing, which he thankfully seemed to interpret as guilt on your part.

“Exactly as I thought,” he said smugly.

“The puppy love thing is cute now, but it’s probably best for working together in the long run to just let him down easy sooner,” Jeno gave some surprisingly wise advice through a half-eaten Hershey’s kiss.

Having composed yourself, you finally let out a contemplative, resigned sigh. “Yeah, you guys are probably right.”

“Always are,” Hyuck tsked.

Lunch was honestly kind of fun—It felt like being a kid with a crush again, sneaking glances at Jisung, trying not to be too obvious about your flirting, and playing innocent when your coworkers would shoot you pointed looks every time Jisung did something totally head-over-heels for you.

Mid-afternoon, and Jisung was back at your desk. He had a few papers in his hand, some flimsy excuse of questions about the receipts he’d picked up last week, but really, you two were just talking. Discussing what to make for dinner, additions to the grocery list, what you were working on, little things.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and you looked over to see Mr. Suh coming out of his office. He’d just been on a phone conference, and had his empty coffee mug in his hand.

“Hi, Mr. Suh.” You sat up a little straighter. “Afternoon decaf?”

“Yep.” He lifted the mug in greeting as he walked by, heading for the breakroom.

“I’m going back to my cage with the other bookkeeping gremlins,” Jisung murmured. “Don’t want him to catch me still here when he gets back.”

“Laser beams aren’t going to come out of his eyes and incinerate you on the spot if he does, you know,” you giggled.

“How do you know?” He tapped your desk rhythmically, then mouthed, ‘See you later.’

You mouthed it back, contentedly watching him walk away. You were back to working on your reports when Mr. Suh returned from the break room. He drifted over to your desk, however, standing against the ledge conspiratorially.

“Was that the new kid in bookkeeping?” He asked lightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, Park Jisung,” you informed him. At your boss’ inquisitive lean forward, you gave a little more context, “He picked up those receipts last week and Hyuck ended up inviting him out for lunch with us.”

“He seems to be over here quite a bit recently.”

“We chitchat sometimes.” You paused, then widened your eyes. “Is that a problem? Nothing’s been late or anything, has it?”

He gave you his usual easy-going smile. “It’s fine, Y/N. Your work has been great as usual.”

“Okay, good.”

“Hi, baby,” Jisung greeted you brightly that evening from your usual meet-up place after work. If neither of you had to stay late, or had an errand to run after work, you would meet up outside a cornerstore a couple blocks away from the office.

“Hi, co-curricular,” you beamed back, leaning into the kiss he was pressing to your cheek.

He pulled away with an adorably confused pout on his face. You laughed, taking his arm in yours as you started down the sidewalks together, relaying your conversation with Hyuck and Jeno this morning.

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the idea of me genuinely ‘stringing you along’ or your new nickname,” you giggled, squeezing his arm.

“You already changed my phone contact, didn’t you?”

“I put a heart next to it!”

“The rumor has spread to bookkeeping, by the way.”

You blinked at him in mock surprise. “You guys have office gossip over there?”

“Yeah, we finally invented the wheel and have time to gossip now,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Huang Renjun told me he heard Song Minji and Park Chaeyeon talking about it in the copy room.”

“That’s how it breached containment,” you tutted. Chaeyeon was from your department, but you knew she and Minji were office friends. She must have overheard it from your area—Hyuck wasn’t exactly the quietest man you knew, and there was no way your other coworkers hadn’t noticed Jisung’s frequent trips to your desk if Mr. Suh had.

“Uh-huh.”

“What exactly were they saying? Did Renjun tell you?”

“Some stuff he didn’t want to repeat about you—” He cleared his throat. “But mostly, he wanted to ask me what, if anything was true. I felt bad lying, I like Renjun.”

“Yeah, he was my favorite bookkeeping gremlin before you started.”

Jisung elbowed you, obviously offended. “I still did bookkeeping before I worked here! I just did it somewhere else!”

“He was my favorite at this company before you started. Better?”

“Much.” He smiled as you leaned in to kiss his nose. “I told him the rumors weren’t true.”

“That wasn’t a lie!” You reminded him emphatically. “We’re not just coworkers with benefits, or co-curriculars, or recently started secretly dating, or whatever!”

“I’m just glad we only have two more days of this.” He laced his fingers with yours. “I want to be able to have a picture of us on my desk, and talk about you to everyone, and show up and leave together.”

“Me too,” you agreed, fond smile on your lips as you approached your front door. “It’s been fun, but the best part will be when everyone knows you’re mine. For real.”

This was weird. You had been at work for thirty minutes and hadn’t seen nor heard Hyuck or Jeno. Maybe today would be normal for once. As soon as that idea had crossed your mind, they came beelining for your desk, and you knew that would be impossible.

“Good—” You couldn’t even get a friendly greeting out of your mouth, Donghyuck fully sitting on top of your keyboard, entering a bunch of random characters into the email you had been writing. “Uhm, you know, that email to Mr. Suh wasn’t important, actually…”

Yanking your keyboard out from under Hyuck, you deleted the gibberish and saved the draft email before setting it aside to deal with whatever was going on. You looked at your coworkers expectantly.

“Y/N…” Jeno surprisingly took the lead. “How did you go about letting Jisung down easy?”

You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I just told him we should keep it professional and not see each other anymore…? And that was it.”

“And how did he take it?”

“Fine?” You glanced between their extremely serious demeanors with increasing worry. “Why? What’s going on?”

“We just had to comfort a crying Jisung in the men’s room for the past thirty minutes, that’s what’s going on!” Hyuck finally hissed. “I don’t think your easy is very easy!”

You leaned away from him in utter shock. That was definitely not part of the plan today, and now you were genuinely worried about why your boyfriend was apparently crying in the men’s room—he definitely wasn’t a good enough actor to do that on the spot.

“Woah, I didn’t—”

“Well, you did.”

“You don’t get to pin all the blame on me here,” you shot back immediately. “Whose stupid fucking plan was it for me to sleep with him in the first place anyway? If I recall, you never found him crying in the bathroom with his last girl that you were so concerned over.”

“You diverted from the plan and he got attached!”

“Okay, it’s everyone’s fault!” Jeno cut in decisively.

“What’s everyone’s fault?” Mr. Suh stopped by your desk, briefcase in hand as he had just gotten into the office. “There’s been an awful lot of whispering going on over here. Something I should know about?”

“No, Mr. Suh!” Hyuck chirped brightly. “Lunch plans fell through, we’re just rescheduling.”

Your boss looked at you skeptically, waiting for confirmation. You nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, lunch plans.”

“Alright.” He shrugged. “There’s a good sandwich place a block over. If you’re looking for recommendations.”

And with that, he went into his office.

Turning back to Hyuck and Jeno, you whispered, “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting him to be crying. Okay?”

“We’re being a little harsh on you,” Jeno admitted quietly. “We should all just leave Jisung alone, I think.”

He took a candy out of your bowl and departed your desk without another word. Hyuck followed, still shaking his head. You quickly brought your phone out, immediately texting Jisung.

[you: BABY SOS]

He texted back immediately

[co-curricular 🩷: IM HERE]

[co-curricular 🩷: WHAT’S WRONG????]

[you: im fine but are YOU okay?!]

[you: jeno and hyuck told me they found you crying in the bathroom]

[co-curricular 🩷: oh nonono im okay baby i promise]

[co-curricular 🩷: im in the copy room, can you come so i can explain?]

[you: omw]

You hurried from your desk to the copy room, relieved to find it devoid of any coworkers except Jisung, who was attending to a copy machine, placing documents on the glass, closing the lid, and copying them in a steady rhythm.

“Sungie,” you breathed out in relief, darting over to him, needing to see his face for yourself.

“Hey, baby, hey,” he said soothingly, letting you wrap an arm around his waist and lean into him affectionately. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You stepped back, cognizant of the fact that any of your coworkers could enter at any moment. “So what were Hyuck and Jeno talking about then?”

“When we got in this morning, the temperature change from the cold air outside to the heat inside the building was making my eyes water and my nose run,” he explained, gesturing to his face. “I went to take care of it in the bathroom. Donghyuck and Jeno ran into me while I was cleaning myself up and assumed I had been crying. Nothing I said could convince them otherwise, and they of course also assumed it was connected to their advice to you to let me down easy. So I played along. I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t get them to let it go.”

“I was almost feeling bad about lying to them, but they do this to themselves.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall next to his copy machine. Your tone softened as you added, “I’m really happy you’re okay, Sungie.”

“I’m happy you checked on me so quick, baby.” He smiled, taking a step closer to peck your forehead. He lowered his voice to say, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, looking up at him, fighting the urge to just grab his suit jacket and kiss him. “Lunch later?”

His nose wrinkled with distaste. “Are Hyuck and Jeno coming too?”

“Just us? At home?”

“Oh?”

“I miss you.”

He nodded. “I miss you too.”

It was finally Friday, finally the day of the office holiday party. You just had to survive work and lay the last couple breadcrumbs, then it would all be over tonight.

You were making your morning cup of coffee in the breakroom with Hyuck and Jeno, and went to engage them in conversation. “Are you guys bringing anyone to the party tonight?”

“Nah.” Hyuck poured his own cup.

“You’re not beating the ‘no bitches’ allegations.” You clicked your tongue.

“I think it’s a bit weird to bring someone you’re not like… properly dating to a work event and introduce them to your coworkers,” Jeno answered, rooting through the employee fridge.

“So that’s a no?”

“Correct,” he mimicked your taunting tone of voice.

Jisung, who had been quietly measuring out sugar into his own cup of coffee at a far counter, apart from your conversation physically but definitely within earshot, inserted himself then, “I’m bringing a date.”

Jeno hit his head on a shelf in the fridge. “Shit—! Huh?”

“You are?!” Hyuck blinked at him, utterly shocked.

You slowly turned around to face Jisung, cocking your head. “Oh, me too.”

“Since when?!” Hyuck snorted.

“Just because I didn’t tell you about it doesn’t mean I haven’t had one,” you hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Jisung nodded, and you saw the corner of his lips twitch, ever-so-slightly, too small for anybody who didn’t know him as well as you to catch. “Guess I’ll see you and your date tonight, then.”

“Same. You, as well.” You nodded curtly, watching him pivot on his heel and stride out of the breakroom.

“You don’t have a fucking date,” Hyuck stated dryly as soon as he was no longer in eyesight.

“That was hard to watch,” Jeno said, opening a Tupperware of food that definitely had somebody else’s name on it.

“And neither does he,” Hyuck continued, pointing to the doorway that Jisung had disappeared through. “No way he’s found somebody in a day. Unless…” He looked at Jeno with alarm. “Oh no. You don’t think…?”

Jeno squinted. “What?”

“What if he brings his toxic situationship to get back at Y/N?” Hyuck gasped. He then turned to you, “Look, I guess I can see if Mark’s free tonight—”

“No,” you cut him off firmly. “I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“So beautiful, baby,” Jisung murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing your knuckles.

“Hey, I’m trying to fix your tie clip,” you laughed, pulling your hand back from him to continue adjusting his tie clip that had gone askew thanks to his seatbelt.

The two of you were standing outside the venue of the office holiday party. You were fashionably late, as part of the plan. You had to make sure Hyuck and Jeno were already there, so they could see you arrive together, wearing your coordinated outfits. Jisung’s tie was of course a complimentary shade of the color of your dress—not too matchy-matchy like kids at a grade school formal, but clearly together, not accidental.

“There.” You smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling up at him. “So handsome.”

He kissed your cheek. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“More than.” He grinned, lacing his fingers with yours.

Walking in, instrumental Christmas music was playing over the speakers and a steady hum of conversation filled the room. There were a few familiar faces near the front, but nobody you were overly friendly with. You grabbed Jisung’s shoulder for support as you went to talk to him over the din of the crowd. He hunched over slightly to listen to you better, holding you steady with a hand on your hip.

“Want to get a drink first?” You suggested.

“Sure,” he agreed, keeping his hand on your lower back as you moved through the sea of people.

There was a special cocktail for the night, ‘Mistletoe While You Work,’ which you ordered out of curiosity. Once it was in your hand, you took a sip, and you were pleasantly surprised. Not too sweet, and you couldn’t taste the liquor at all.

“Hey, baby,” you smirked, holding your glass up between yours and Jisung’s faces. “Uh-oh, we’re under mistletoe… kinda.”

Jisung laughed, and you put the glass down to watch his face crinkle up and his nose scrunch in all its adorable glory. “Mm, hard to argue with that.”

You were still smiling as you pressed your lips to his in a short but sweet kiss. He kept you close when you broke apart, an arm still wound around your waist.

“Uhm, Merry fucking Christmas to you guys, too,” Hyuck announced himself, standing off to the side, his own drink in hand and Jeno of course with him.

“Oh, hey guys,” you greeted them nonchalantly. “Merry Christmas.”

“What happened to your dates?” Jeno cut right to the chase.

You and Jisung pointed to each other, making nearly identical faces as if you were oblivious to why Jeno and Hyuck were confused.

Hyuck started buffering as he tried to process the situation. “What…?”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you finally put them out of their misery, watching as their jaws dropped simultaneously.

“Since before I interviewed, actually,” your boyfriend added.

“Over a year, to be exact.”

“You guys are sick in the head,” Hyuck jabbed an accusatory finger at you both.

“Who was making a whole convoluted plan for me to sleep with one of our coworkers that you barely knew?” You immediately fired back. “You’re lucky we did this instead of reporting you to HR.”

Jeno quickly threw on a wide smile, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “You fit in great here, Jisung.”

“Glad to have you on the team.” Hyuck went to hug Jisung, making him stiffen up at the unexpected affection. Your coworker then gestured to both of you, putting a hand over his chest. “You two are so adorable together. What a great couple. I’ve said that from the beginning, right, Jeno?”

“You thought they would’ve had awful chemistry.”

“Would it kill you to back me up for once?” Hyuck turned his ire on your other coworker.

Mr. Suh walked up to the bar then, putting his order in with the bartender before greeting you all. “Ah, hello, everyone. Merry Christmas.”

A chorus of hellos and Merry Christmases rang out in response.

“Was Mr. Suh in on it?” Jeno asked you.

“Whatever ‘it’ was, no, but now I wish I was,” Mr. Suh answered, clearly intrigued by this conversation.

“Y/N and Jisung are dating!” Hyuck immediately tattled, and you rolled your eyes at his childish tone.

“There’s nothing against the rules,” your boss said calmly. Then, he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Especially if the relationship predates one of you working here.”

You and Jisung exchanged a surprised look, making Mr. Suh laugh.

“Okay, I had a hunch, but that was the confirmation I needed,” he chuckled. “When I’d see Jisung at Y/N’s desk alone, I don’t know—you two seemed way more comfortable around each other than two people who had only talked for the first time a week ago. No matter how much you liked each other.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hyuck gawped.

“It didn’t seem like any of my business.”

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

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lowkeyerror · 4 months ago

Text

Ours Together pt 3

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 8k

Notes: Agatha All Along Spoilers, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, intimacy bordering on smut but no actual smut, happy ending, everyone survives

Summary: Things get rocky between the coven as they work to get through the rest of trials and off of the road. It begins to feel like Agatha, Rio, and their fallen angel versus the rest of the witches.

An: Took me awhile to write this one, but it is longer than the other parts. This is the final chapter of Ours Together, so I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to like, reply, reblog, and slide into my inbox with any questions about this fic. Thank you for reaading 🫶.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

You were trying to find a way to be ok with leaving Agatha behind. The argument that the road wasn’t real, wasn’t working anymore. Not when you could remember the feeling of your wings being severed.

“Looks like the next trial is up ahead.”

A cabin. It’s disarming enough, but you knew better. A glamorous home, and the gates of heaven were both omens on this trail.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble entering the wooden structure.

You were uninterested in what was to transpire until you came to the understanding that this was Agatha’s trial. That information made you focus more on quickly executing the task.

Learning that you had to Ouija was disappointing. Due to your previous affiliation you were not allowed to touch the boards. If an angel were too touch a Ouija board there was a chance that their soul would get lost with the others.

So you watched on edge as the others did the board. You couldn’t help, but laugh a little when Agatha pretended to be possessed. You even laughed a bit when board said that Death was here with you. However your laughter completely stopped when it kept spelling out punish Agatha.

When she let go of the board you knew it was going to be all bad. The witches in the coven turned on her pretty quickly.

“It’s clear what we have to do, punish Agatha.”

“Try again because you’re not touching her,” you kept your voice low and calm.

You could feel their eyes on you.

“Y/n it’s what the trial wants. You should know-”

You stop them there, “You’re right, I do know because I had to have my wings cut off. What I learned is what happens in these trials is painfully real. So I dare you to touch her.”

Rio stands by your side, arm loosely hanging over your shoulder, “I’m on her side.”

“That’s not fair. Agatha has literal Death and The Fallen Angel protecting her, what are we supposed to do?” Jen throws her hands up in exasperation.

It starts a bickering amongst everyone. They all send looks your way. It's not something you mind anymore. You had gotten used to hostile starts a long while ago.

“What if it's the only way?” Agatha says just so the two of you can hear.

“We will find another way,” Rio reassures the woman.

That's when the lights go dark. You stay close to Rio, forming an outward facing circle with the rest. Agatha had vanished from her spot.

“Agatha,” you call her name tentatively.

Its not until Teen flashes his light at the ceiling that you see a clearly possessed Agatha drop down. Everyone screams at her appearance.

“What the fuck?” Slips out of your mouth as you watch your lover crawl and swing her arms around.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Rio calls out tentatively.

“Oh my god.”

Agatha has Jen in her hold before anyone can do anything about it. You all try to get her to loosen her grip, but nothing works until Lilia hits the lights. Once she does you and Rio become frantic as Agatha disappears again.

“Agatha! Where is she, alright? Where is she!” Rio’s frustration grows.

You take her hand in yours, silently. Your eyes wandering the room because you’re still trying to find Agatha as well.

“What’s that?” Teen says as a almost translucent cloud forms in front of the stairs.

Your frown deepens, “A ghost.”

“I hate ghosts,” Rio grumbles as the image of a woman who is familiar to the both of you materializes.

Lilia asks the ghosts who she is. Evanora, answers and you can’t hide your look of irritation.

When Agatha speaks up from her spot on the stairs you feel relief wash over you. She’s ok, you breathe a little easier. Simultaneously, your heart breaks as you watch her pretend to be nonchalant about her mother possessing her.

“You must finish the road without Agatha, leave her with me.”

“No, no way!” Rio’s eyes burn into the ghost.

“Weren’t you guys fighting at some point before all this?”

You glare stays on Evanora, “Yeah, well, her mother can’t have her.”

The ghost floats towards Rio, who takes a step back. You block Evanora’s path, your eyes taking on that dangerous black color.

“Mom? Why do you hate me still?” Agatha comes down the stairs to question her mother with a vulnerability that you didn’t think anyone else would ever see.

“You were born evil. I ought to have killed you the moment you left my body.”

When you see a tear slide down Agatha’s face, you lose it. While the rest of the coven is taken aback by Evanora’s harsh words, you weigh your options.

“We have to go,” Jen says, turning to leave Agatha behind.

Agatha pleas are genuine as they fall from her lips, “Please take me with you. Don’t go. Don’t leave me with her I can be good. Please!”

“NO ONE IS LEAVING!” Your voice shakes the walls as you speak.

Jen tries to take a step forward, but she can’t in fact no one in the room can move freely except for you, Rio, and Agatha.

Evanora sees your display of power and tries to hide herself in Agatha’s body.

“Oh no you don’t, you raggedy bitch.”

You’re quick to lay your wrists against each other and open your palms outward. The magic that emits is black just like your wings. The power hits the ghost. She lets out a cry of agony, looking wildly around as her soul is being melted away by your magic.

“Holy shit,” Teen says as they all watch it unfold.

“You’re a fool. An angel ripped from heaven because of my daughter’s sinister impact, yet you protect her. She doesn't love you, she's incapable. She’s evil reincarnated, she will never-” Evanora’s ramble is quick and panicked as she begins to fade from existence.

You let up on your attack just to get closer to her. You squat down to her level, “Being in love with Agatha is one of the best things that could've ever happened to me. I will never regret it. She has always been good to me, even when I haven’t deserved it. For what you’ve done to her, I will erase you from every plane of existence because you, Evanora Harkness deserve a fate worse than eternal damnation.”

Your wings come out without your permission, making the moment look like something from a movie. With a single hand you begin unleashing your power on the ghost again. Your eyes, black and unblinking, your wings spread wide, your body firm in it’s place as you watch the ghost squirm underneath you.

Her words are incoherent as the screams take over. Her eyes begging for any other fate than this. You black magic drowning her out, until nothing is left. The screams are gone, her soul is gone. Not resting, not in a better place, or a worse place, just gone.

The trial had ended and the exit makes itself present yet, everyone is still frozen in place. Not by your voice, but by what they had just witnessed. Slowly you stand from your spot. Though you want to comfort Agatha, you turn your attention to the coven.

“If you ever think about leaving Agatha behind, I will kill you. I don’t care how old you are, I don’t care about what you want from the road, I do not give a single fuck about your feelings. I honestly hoped you’d shoot your magic at Agatha and just fucking die, but no we have to be on this stupid fucking road,” your anger rises with each word you speak.

“Y/n,” Agatha is gentle as she calls your name.

You shake your head, “Let’s just go.”

You march out of the exit with Agatha and Rio following behind you, and the rest following behind them.

“Sweetheart, I did say we'd go after one more trial,” Rio is careful as she speaks with you, back on the road.

“I’m not leaving her with them. If you have to go then go,” you can feel your jaw clench.

“Hey, I’m not the one who was going to abandon our girl, don't snap at me,” Rio says.

You take a deep breath, “Sorry, that just really pissed me off.”

“I know, I don’t think I remember the last time you destroyed a soul like that,” you can see the worry in her eyes as she looks at you.

“She deserved it. That woman was a piece of shit. Nothing she said was true,” you look at Agatha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Agatha,” Rio calls her name but she doesn’t answer. “Agatha,” she tries again more firm this time still nothing.

Its not until Death stands directly in front of the woman, her hands on the others shoulder, that Agatha reacts to her.

“I think we should camp for the night,” Rio says softly, and Agatha nods.

You turn to face the coven. They stop as soon as you turn, “Set up camp.”

“We always set it up, while you the go rendezvous for however long you want,” Teen talks back to you.

“Kid, don’t start with me,” your tone has a warning edge to it.

“No, I think I will. You’re not even a witch, why should we listen to you about the witches’ road?”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t know half as much as I do about the witches’ road.”

He stands his ground, “I’ve studied the ballad, I have notes. I am a witch.”

“ I’ve studied the ballad. I have notes. Blah blah blah,” you mock him.

Your words stir something inside the boy. Something that has the magic simmering at the edge of his fingers.

“I bet it was a harsh reality to deal with, once you realized you’d never go back to heaven. Considering that's probably where Nicholas went.”

It happens too quickly for anyone to stop you. You shove the teenager against a tree with an unimaginable amount of force. The tree cracks under the impact. You have two fistfuls of his shirt, tightly wound in your grip.

Your breathing is erratic and your eyes are once again black. The witches around you are screaming and pleading, but you aren’t focused on them.

“You don't get to speak about him like you know him. No one here knows him. You don't know what happened, so stop hypothesizing about my son’s death. It will get you killed, boy.”

“Y/n, let him go,” Agatha’s voice breaks through all the others.

You don’t get the chance to release the boy, as you feel yourself being repelled away from him. The magic is strong enough to push you off, but you don't fall down.

His hands are glowing with blue sparks and you see a crown forming around his head.

“Look who’s grown,” you don't back down from him.

“More than you can say for you son.”

You growl, “DOWN.”

The road seems to shift with your voice. The teen hits his knees. His magic vanishes from his hands. You don’t let him get the chance to speak before you blast him with your power.

He screams, but you don’t care. You stalk closer to him. You can feel hands on you trying to pull you back from him. Yet your vision is tunneled in on him. You strike him with your magic once more and he doubles over.

“Y/n look at me baby.”

Rio stands in your way, blocking you from the teen. You ignore her words but reach for her waist. You grab her dagger and hold it against the boy’s neck.

“You know what losing my son taught me, kid? Sometimes, boys just die,” a single tear rolls down your cheek as you smile sadistically at him.

“Can’t you do something to stop her?” Jen says.

“She’ll kill him,” Alice follows.

“Working on it,” Rio says, gears turning in her head, hoping to find a solution.

“It’s not his time,” Lilia murmurs.

You add pressure to the blade, watching him try his best not to move.

“Please, please I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can be-"

“Good?” You cut him off.

His words, stuck in his throat, as he realized the similarities between himself and Agatha.

“It won’t bring him back,” you hear Agatha’s voice in your ear.

Her hand is firm on your forearm, keeping you from digging into the teen’s neck.

“Did you hear what he said about Nicky? This little shit deserves it.”

“Love, please,” Agatha tries to reason with you. “He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

You let out an animalistic grunt before pulling the dagger away from the teen’s neck and shoving it into the ground. You stand abruptly and walk away from the group, trying to cool off.

“Word to the wise Billy, do not go pissing off people more powerful than you,” Agatha’s voice is sarcastic, but her gaze travels the boys face trying to find injury.

“You knew? Did you-”

“Yes I knew, you're as predictable as your mother and no I didn't put the sigil on you.”

Lilia speaks up, “I did, for your protection.”

“And the plot thickens,” Rio teases.

“Your familiar almost killed him,” Alice points out.

Rio’s dagger is back in her hand. She twirls it around a bit, “Are we surprised? Billy here, does not know when he should shut the fuck up. Talking about a dead boy, he should be ashamed of himself. Nicky isn't some tool you can use to get a response.”

Billy looks to Agatha for back up, but instead finds her cold stare.

“I know Y/n would've regretted killing you, even if it doesn’t seem like it now. That was more for her than you. I don't ever want to hear his name come out of your mouth again. Understand?”

He nods, his gaze not meeting Agatha’s eyes, “I understand.”

“Great, well go ahead and set up camp, while we go deal with Y/n. Unless anyone has an issue with our rendezvous,” Agatha looks around for objections, she gets none.

Rio and Agatha take off in the direction you were headed. They walk side by side, looking for any sign of you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before” Agatha looks to Rio.

The Green Witch mirror her look of worry, “Me either.”

They find you sitting by the edge of a creek. Your knees your chest as you stare past the water. The anger no longer seeping off of you like before. They sit on either side of you, slightly disappointed when you curl further into yourself.

“Sorry,” is the only word to leave your lips.

Agatha shakes her head, “It’s my fault.”

You and Rio try to protest, but Agatha simply raises a hand. “I let them believe whatever lies have been spun about my relationship with Nicholas. I believed them to be all less hurtful than the truth. It was ok when it was just me they antagonized, but if I knew you would've been their target, I would've come clean.”

“It’s none of their business. The truth would do no good for them. They have no empathy,” you mumble.

“How can you be so sure?” Rio is cautious when she reaches out towards you.

You take her hand and hold it up to your cheek, seeking comfort. Agatha sees this and moves so her shoulder is against yours, her arm tucks it self securely around your waist. Rio’s head falls onto your shoulder. You feel yourself un-tense at the contact.

“They heard my story, they saw our scars, they heard what Evanora said about Agatha, and yet, they still want to pick trivial fights,” your anger was replaced by exhaustion.

“He’s young,” Agatha tries to defend.

“It’s not just Billy. They wanted to leave you behind Aggie. What if Rio and I weren’t there, then what? They would’ve let her have you.”

You blink as the tears being to well in your eyes.

“I can't blame them, sweetheart. I would've done the same if it were any of their trials,” Agatha confesses.

Another sigh escapes you, “I’m assuming Billy made the road as well, while we’re on the topic of frustrating things?”

Agatha nods a few times, “I’m pretty sure. His powers they’re like his mothers, very tied up in his emotions.”

“I was going to kill him,” exasperation on your tongue.

Rio kisses your collarbone, “You didn’t, we wouldn't have let you.”

“He’s right, I’ve thought about it a lot you know? Nicky is somewhere up there like I was. I could’ve been there for him,” you look up to the sky as you speak.

“He’s in safest place he could be,” Agatha bows her head slightly.

“Who knew this made up road would be so stressful?” Rio concedes defeated by the things that have happened.

“At least it brought us back together. I don't think I could’ve spent another century, burning from the inside,” You attempt to joke.

“I think I know something that could relieve some of the stress,” Agatha says suggestively.

She stands, two pairs of eyes watching her intently as she begins to peel off her clothes.

“W- what are you doing?” You stutter, but don't look away from her.

She sits her clothes on a nearby rock, and struts into the creek.

“I’m taking a dip, you two are welcome to join me.”

Your jaw opens slightly at her proposal, “What if they see us?”

Rio stands as well, following Agatha’s suit, “I doubt that they would dare say anything after such a powerful display from our sweet angel.”

“Come on baby, loosen up a bit,” Agatha speaks from her spot in the water.

Rio slides up next to the witch, whispering something in her ear, causing them both to giggle.

“You know I’m supposed to be sulking,” you say getting to your feet, pulling off your clothes.

“Sulking, soaking, same difference,” Rio argues.

The water is pleasantly warm as you sink into it. The three of you bare, in the faux night of the road. It reminds you of the early parts of your relationship. Both women always up for dip in whatever body of water they came across. Nights spent in bodies of water, bathed by the soft light of the moon. Dark purple marks from the eager lips of your lovers.

The memories brought a slight color to your cheeks.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Agatha and Rio circle you, in somewhat of a predatory fashion.

“I bet she’s thinking about all the things we used to do in the water. Am I right doll?”

“Perhaps,” you say coyly. “But if you think after centuries, I’m going to give myself to you on the witches’ road, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Fair, but a couple of kisses wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Rio wraps her arms around you from behind.

She trails a few kisses up the side of your neck.

“I suppose not,” you crane your neck to give her access.

“I think love bites are fair game,” Agatha’s hands find your waist. Her mouth latching on to the opposite side of your neck. She sucks with delicate force, playfully biting, before soothing the space with her tongue.

“Mhm,” you hum, the pleasure getting to you.

Your hands rest on Agatha’s stomach slowly climbing up to her breasts. You can’t help but play with them in your hands. You lick your lips recalling, how they felt in your mouth. Her moans when you would suck and tease her nipples.

“I thought we weren’t doing this here,” Agatha said breathlessly, as you play with one of her nipples between your fingers.

“We’re not,” you say, with a warmth spreading across your body.

“Then-”

You cut her off with a sensual kiss. She moans in surprise. She slips her tongue into your mouth and you suck on it teasingly. The woman laughs at your antics, which breaks the kiss.

It isn’t a moment after that you feel a hand wrap around your neck. You let Rio pull you into a hungry kiss, turning you body fully towards her. She’s trying to be dominant, but when your teeth tug on her lower lip, she lets out a whimper.

She ends up kissing down your body. Her lips stop right above your scar. She makes eye contact with you as her tongue meticulously traces over it.

It doesn’t go away, you all knew it wouldn't because it had already healed on it’s own. Yet she looks up at you with a pout that makes your knees weak.

“It was worth a shot,” she speaks innocently.

You want nothing more than to grab a fistful of her hair and yank her up to kiss your lips.

“That was hot,” Agatha says, watching with dark eyes.

“We have to stop,” the disappointment in your tone makes the other women chuckle.

“Awe, does baby want to cross her own boundaries?”

You separate from them and make your way back to land. An irritated groan leaving your lips, “We’re not fucking on the road.”

“Don’t be too mad about it hon, this was supposed to be relaxing,” Agatha teases following you.

Rio is the last out of the water, “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

Going back to the makeshift camp, puts a sour flavor in your mouth, but it’s better than the burning rage you had felt when you left. Everyone is asleep when you return except for Billy.

“I wanted to apologize, for what I said. It wasn’t fair to blow up at you like that,” his remorse was real, you could tell.

“It’s fine, kid. I should be apologizing to you, hundreds of years old and I still can’t keep my temper in check. Let’s just squash it,” you start to make yourself comfortable.

“Did you mean what you said, about letting Agatha kill us?”

You suck in a breath unwilling to lie, “Yeah, I did. It might be hard for you to understand, but I’ve spent centuries away from Agatha and Rio. Having them back is everything to me, and the road strives to take them from me. I would do anything to get us off of the road and nothing will change that.”

“I- I understand. My brother, I would do anything to see him again. Whatever it takes.”

Agatha smiles, “Spoken like a true witch.”

“Word to the wise kid, power plays are never as personal as they seem. In this life, things are taken from you if you hesitate for even a moment. Don’t be afraid of your power and never hesitate.”

“Pretty sound advice for someone who isn’t a witch isn’t it?” Rio teases Billy.

He laughs awkwardly and nods.

“Get some rest, we have a road to conquer,” Agatha’s tone was parental.

Billy does as instructed, feeling better after the talk.

Your stare lingers on him a bit longer. A hand rests on your shoulder, “He’s fine.”

You nod to yourself, “Yeah.”

It’s easier falling asleep than it should've been. Your body is completely exhausted from using your powers so frequently. Time is strange on the road, you couldn't really tell how much time had passed due to the darkness.

“We gotta go now!”

You are startled awake by a panicked voice. You’re quick to get to your feet.

“Where’s the fire?”

You’re damn near being pulled along the road, as you hear steps running all around you.

“The seven are here.”

That sentence seems to shake the sleep from your body. Your eyes open wide as you begin to pick up your pace.

“Then why are we moving so slowly?”

“I’m running as fast as I can,” Lilia speaks, out of breath.

“We could use analog magic to fly?” Billy suggests it and the witches groan as a collective.

“I don’t hear anyone else coming up with ideas,” you say in his defense.

“Blast them with your angel powers,” Jen exclaims.

“Not an angel and I'm not doing a 7 on 1 attack,” you say.

One of the seven ends up catching up to you and like Jen suggested you blast them with your power. She gives you an ‘I told you so' look and you mock her.

“Brooms now,” Agatha says breaking off a branch from a tree.

Once everyone has a working broom you expand your wings and shoot up into the air.

“I thought we were any to have the coolest moment ever, yet here she goes upstaging us,” Rio smirks as she takes off, Agatha isn’t far behind her.

You don't remember the last time you flew prior to your time on the road. This is different than your trial. The cool air surrounds you as your wings flap with a familiarity. You feel free for the first time in a long time. A genuine smile takes a place on your face as you fly.

Agatha and Rio can't take their eyes off of you. It has been too long since they've seen you move freely in the sky. To them, it looks like you are home. Your smile makes them do the same, sharing a look of love between the pair. The shared adoration for you, fills their hearts. A soft fondness in their eyes as they fly side by side. Their love for each other unspoken, but heavy.

The road decides to break up the moment, forcing everyone back on to the path. You end up landing gracefully while most of the others take a rough landing.

It's no surprise that you land in front of another trial. Just like with your trial, everyone rushes in to avoid any of the wandering seven. Once inside it feels like a distasteful costume party. The witches dressed as their famous caricatures, while you have tiny fake black wings on your back with fake horns to accompany it. The only person who looks more ridiculous in your opinion is Rio.

“Why the fuck am I Skeletor?”

You giggle, but place your hands on her fake blue abs, “I think it’s all in good fun.”

Your laughter stops in its tracks when you get a glimpse of the ceiling. Knives dangle overhead threaten to fall. You see the tarot spread and immediately think of Lilia.

“Well looks like you’re up Lilia,” Alice places a hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Who am I reading for?”

The others chime with thoughts and theories, but for you the answer is quite clear.

“Your trial, your reading,” you say cutting through all of the chatter.

“Smart girl,” Lilia says beginning her own reading.

When the death card comes up, you can see attention shift to Rio.

She throws her hands up, “All roads lead to me, we already know that.”

The exit opens, but before anyone can step through it the seven are rapidly approaching.

“I’m tired of running,” Lilia stands her ground.

You shake your head, “You’ve got to get out of here, its not your time yet.”

“But-”

“But nothing, you’re a damn good witch, but right now you have to go,” you send her towards the door.

“What’re you doing?” Agatha asks with panic in her voice.

You don’t respond to her, “Billy, if you want to show off that power, now is the time."

Your powers manifested in your hands as you begin to shoot it at members of the seven.

“I’ll try,” magic sparks like electricity at the tips of his fingers.

“Y/n, we have to-”

You shook your head, “Get them out of here Rio. The kid and I got it, just have Alice on standby.”

Rio doesn’t reply, instead she shoves you towards the exit. She uses one hand to push you out of Lilia’s trial and with other she throws out the teen.

She closes the door behind the teen. You begin to bang on the door. You try hitting it with your power but it doesn’t budge. Your fist hits the door a few times, before Agatha pulls you back from the door.

“Why would she do that? She can’t- Agatha, we have to help her. We have too,” you were on the brink of being a mess.

Agatha grabs your face in her hands, trying to get you to focus on her. She gives you a tiny smile, “Sweetheart, they are locked in with her not the other way around. She’s la muerte.”

On cue, you hear the sound of screams coming from the room you were just in. You listen hard and pick up the unforgettable sound of a sword piercing flesh.

“Should we…” Billy says, ready for a fight.

“Easy there tiger, sounds like she has it under control,” Alice keeps the boy back with an exaggerated grab.

Rio doesn’t walk, but skips out of the space where Lilia’s trial was held. Her dagger in hand, glistening with blood. The gleeful nature of her return nearly makes you forget that you were in danger

“ The seven are now the zero,” she says spinning the knife in her hands.

“You could’ve done that the whole time?” Jen questions Rio.

Rio shrugs, “I don’t like getting my hands dirty, too much paperwork if I’m the one that does the killing.”

Instead of stopping to rest like the other trials, you decide to continue on. There’s only one member of the coven to test, before you could finally leave this hell hole.

You can basically see the nerves bouncing off of the kid. If this is the end, then whatever is next is for him.

“Well, looks like your last up kid,” you place your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m ready for whatever it is,” he steels his jaw.

“Just remember, take what you want. Don’t hesitate,” you lose pace with him to fall back with Rio and Agatha.

“Not too long ago you were trying to kill him, and now you’re giving him advice. Look how far you’ve come,” Rio teases you.

You roll your eyes, “I’m just trying to get out of here.”

“No soft spot for him?” Agatha pushes farther.

A smile tugs at the ends of your lips but you hide it well, “Nope. ”

“Guys I think we have a problem,” Alice’s voice calls for your attention.

A row of shoes in front of everyone seems to make silence fall across the group.

“Our shoes,” you hear the anger simmering beneath Agatha’s tone.

“We’re back where we started,” Alice says in disbelief.

“The witches’ road is a circle,” Billy adds on.

“And this is the finish line?” Jen is just as shocked as Alice.

You see Agatha try to use her powers and as nothing happens her face begins to contort into a scowl, “That’s it?”

She glares at Billy before yelling again, “That’s it!”

“Well, maybe we passed the trial?” Lilia tries to reason with the group.

“Then how exactly do we get off?” Agatha’s anger finally tips over.

“Well maybe we-”

“IF YOU DON’T KNOW KEEP QUIET!” She tries to stalk towards the boy, but you’re quick to pull her back into you.

You look to Rio, who carefully watches the interaction in front of her. It’s strange, because you three are the only ones who know that the road has been manifested by Billy. Therefore it is technically his domain, meaning he designed it like this.

“We need to keep going,” Agatha says with her voice low.

The rest of the group quickly breaks into chaos shouting their refusal.

“FINE! STAY HERE!” Agatha growls at the group.

Billy keeps staring at the shoes.

Rio speaks up, “Go ahead, put them on.”

“What do the shoes have to do with anything? “ Alice questions.

“Well you took them off for respect for the road right? Has the road been respectful too you?” Rio points out.

“Screw the road,” Billy says before slipping his shoes on.

No one gets a chance to say anything else. Instantaneously you find yourself confined in a dark space. You panic, feeling all around you until you find a zipper. Once you're free from the bag, you notice that you're in an all white room.

Billy, Agatha, and Jen all appear in the same situation you are in. You leave the body bag and look around.

“Where are we?” Billy asks.

“My basement give or take,” Agatha answers him.

“Where are the others?” Jen asks.

“Not too far,” you answer her.

She squints, “How can you be sure?”

“Cause my insides aren’t boiling from being away from Rio.”

“But Agatha’s right here?”

You sigh, “It’s an and/or type of thing. Meaning if one of them is too far it burns, significantly less than if they were both far, but still burns nonetheless.”

“Glad to know they’re close, but that doesn’t make us any less trapped,” Billy points out that the door is sealed.

“These are grow lights, are we supposed to grow something here?”

“There’s no water or soil,” you point out.

Agatha huffs in irritation, “Sure seems like another stupid fucking trial.”

She digs around in the body bag and gasps lightly, “We do have our personal effects.”

She pulls out her locket, causing the others to dig in their bags. You didn’t come on the road with anything so you weren’t surprised to find your bag empty.

You see Agatha struggling to put on the necklace and walk over to her. You take it from her hands and gently sweep her hair out of the way. Knowing what’s inside the locket, keeps your hands steady as you hook the chain.

You see her smile, relief plastering over her features, “That’s better.”

You go to step away, but she grabs your wrist, keeping you close by.

Billy isn’t so lucky with his notebook, “It’s worthless.”

The body bags disappear once he tosses the book in there.

“Well, I guess the road agrees,” you say sarcastically.

It’s then that the grow lights flicker.

“And now we have our countdown,” Agatha points out.

Jen leans against the wall watching the countdown. Agatha can’t help, but antagonize the woman as their time ticks away.

“I’ll be damned if I let us all die here, after making it this far,” Jen peels herself off the wall to stand in the center of the room.

“You don’t have any magic,” you tell her without any animosity.

“Well she saved me, maybe she doesn’t need it,” Billy points out.

It’s at this point where Jen mentions Boston. You can’t help it as your mouth falls open and you look at Agatha. Her eyes also opening wide, while staring at Jen.

“You need to do the unbinding ritual,” you tell them.

“Doesn’t she need the witch that bound her to do that?” Billy says not connecting the dots.

“Agatha? Are you the one who bound me?” Jen says, rightful frustration in her tone.

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms over your chest, “Now is not the time.”

“You nonstop sociopath!”

“You’re the one who bound her?” Billy can’t believe it.

“How did you even know I was in Boston?” Agatha questions you.

“Old habits die hard, you always went to sell your services in Boston when times got rough, but enough deflecting, do the ritual.”

“You kept me like this for 100 years?” Jen yells.

Agatha tries to defend herself, “ I didn’t know it was you. It was the 1920’s I did the odd spell for bank notes. The patriarchy really shelled out to shush a lady. It was bind or burn!”

“100 years!”

As much as you wanted to push to get the ritual over with, you knew Jen was justified in her anger. That was time that she’d lost forever. You knew better than anyone what it felt like to walk around for years on end as a shell of your former self.

“This is so awkward.”

Jen pulls Agatha into her and starts the ritual. Once it’s over and her magic is running through her she sobs. The reunion of her and her powers means her journey is over. She vanishes from the road.

“Where did she go?”

“The road gave her what she was missing. And now she’s gone,” Agatha deadpans.

You can sense the shift in her attitude immediately. It feels as though she and the teen are facing off against each other.

“This can end right now. I want power, you have power, juice me up.”

“So you get what you're missing and I’m left here to rot?”

You scoff at him, “She could’ve killed you at any point by now. When you were bleeding out of your side or when my knife was at your neck kid, use your head.”

“No one was talking to you, do you even want anything from the road ? Shouldn’t you have disappeared by now too?” Billy tries to pick a fight with you.

“You are the only thing standing in the way of what I want,” you tell him seriously.

“So what it’s 2 against 1 now? I’m not scared of either of you,” he gets in Agatha face, but keeps his glare on you.

The gesture pisses you off and you march over to them. Agatha puts her hand out, motioning for you to stay back. You reluctantly follow her gesture

“What a good little familiar,” Billy directs at you.

Before you can do anything Agatha interrupts, “Sit.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to find your brother."

His whole energy changes, “What?”

She sits down, “That’s what you want right? Tommy isn’t waiting out there. Not in a body anyway. Why do you think Rio came here to begin with? She knows you could do it for him.”

“Do what?”

The teen was so dense that you couldn’t help your outburst, “Give him another life. Another spin around the dance floor.”

His eyes snap to yours, “You think I can bring Tommy back?”

“Time to grow up, kid,” you say to him.

Agatha pats the floor and he cautiously sits down across from her.

You watch her work in only the way she can. Her instructions clear and concise. Just as prodding as they need to be to stir his memories, and get him talking. In another life she could’ve had a coven of disciples.

She keeps him focused on his breathing. Though she has no magic in this moment, you could feel it in her aura. The way she carries herself, there will always be a witch underneath it all.

When she grabs Billy, the lights flicker. Things become intense quickly. He hyperventilates, but Agatha holds him as he begins to rock.

He begins ramble about a dying boy his questions tug at your heart strings, but you remind him, “Don’t hesitate, Billy. Don’t be afraid of your power.”

“Am I killing this boy so my brother can live?”

He lets out a strangled scream, and then he’s gone.

The lights in the room are almost completely gone. Agatha sits still her place.

“No, Billy. Sometimes… boys die.”

It breaks you to hear her like that. You sit behind her and she leans back into your arms. The lights fade faster.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left when had the chance,” she says unable to look at you.

You just hold her tighter, “Seeing you again has meant everything to me.”

She opens the locket and you both look at the strands of Nicky’s hair. She takes it out of it’s place, finding a small dandelion seed. Agatha sniffles and you bury your head in her shoulder. Your wings expand, wrapping around the both of you.

She looks between your wings and the seed, “Out of death, life.”

She lifts your face out of her shoulder, and swipes the small seed across your tear stained cheeks. She quickly buries it in a crack of the grounds foundation.

You watch as a dandelion quickly sprouts and the room begins to shake. You are quick to hop to your feet as the lights turn back on and the walls begins to shake. Dirt begins to fill the room, much like with your trial.

“What’s happening?”

“The trial is over, we can’t stay here, come on” you begin look towards the previously locked exit.

Agatha pushes the door, but it doesn’t budge. You join the effort to help her, but it’s like something is still blocking it.

“Stand back,” you push her behind you, ready to shoot your powers at the door.

Just as you’re about to blast it, the door is opens. You and Agatha rush through, covered in dirt

On the other side is the coven, who watch the two of stumble into Agatha’s backyard. Your back hits the grass and you close your eyes. You can’t remember the last time you were this relieved to be on the earth’s soil.

The peace doesn’t last long as Agatha tries to use her powers and it doesn't work.

“You have to be fucking kidding me? I WANT MY PRIZE,” Agatha exclaims.

You look at Billy from your spot on the floor, “What gives kid, everyone gets a prize, but her?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Rio ruffles the boy hair with a laugh, “Isn’t it obvious? Billy, conjured up the witches’ road.”

The other witches turn to him, with their jaws dropped. He begins to sputter and point wildly at you three, “Are we seriously going to believe them? Death, the Fallen Angel, and Agatha. What do they even know?”

“We know that the road was never real,” you say sitting up in your spot.

“But Agatha said she walked the road?” Alice points out.

“Is it surprising that she lied?” Jen chimes in.

“She didn’t lie,” Rio defends.

Your jaw clenches, you close your eyes and take a breath. You speak calmly, “Agatha, please… tell them truth about the road.”

She plays with the locket around her neck, “The ballad… I made it, with our son. That’s why I know it’s originally coven 2, it’s about me and him. It wasn’t even about witches, it was about the winding roads we used to have to travel.”

“What really happened to him?” Lilia is the one to ask.

Neither Agatha or Rio speak up. You bring your knees to your chest and face away from the coven, “Nicky, was born sick… he wasn't- he couldn’t. He was made from scratch. With tears of a fallen angel and a heartbeat from death.”

“Rotten ingredients,” Rio doesn’t hide the crack in her voice.

You nod, “Agatha was the only one who could provide him with flesh. It didn’t matter, how much with loved him. Our ingredients just never mixed well. Nicky wasn’t the first, but Agatha begged and pleaded.”

“And threatened,” Rio says quietly.

“Rio had already broken the rules for me. To do it again so soon, was a big risk for her.”

Alice was the one to ask, “What did you do?”

Rio bites her lip, “I could only give him time.”

You bury your head in your knees, “Being around him could’ve gotten Rio in trouble, so we all decided it would be best for us to keep our distance from Nicky.”

“How much time did he get?” Billy asks.

“He was only 6,” Agatha clutches the necklace harshly.

You bury yourself further into your knees as if it would protect you from her words. Rio looks at the ground, unable to relive this yet again.

The coven looks between the three of you, piecing the rest of it together. The tragedy of it all displayed across each one of your bodies.

“The one day I didn’t kill any witches, he died. I went on a rampage after that, I used the ballad to lure witches into my trap. Then I’d get them to attack me and drain them of their powers,” Agatha explains wiping her own tears.

“So that’s what you were going to do to us?” Billy asks, but his tone isn’t accusing.

“Pretty much,” she says with a bored tone.

Jen interrupts, “So you knew it was him the whole time, even with the sigil?”

“Well as soon as the road appeared, I had a hunch.”

They all begin to go back and forth about how it was all for nothing and unfair. The spew words of negativity at Agatha for hiding the truth from all of them. It doesn’t sit right with you or Rio.

“Are guys even listening to yourselves? Alice you aren’t cursed anymore, Lilia you’re done running from your powers, Jen you’re unbound, and Billy you reincarnated Tommy, all thanks to Agatha. So, what are you bitching about? She helped you all achieve what you wanted, whether you want to admit it or not,” Rio goes off on the group.

“She deserves this and as her coven you know that,” you say, getting to your feet.

“Fine, I’ll do it, just don’t kill me” Billy speaks up.

“Scouts honor,” Agatha says as Billy gears up to shoot her.

You stand next to Rio, leaning on her slightly. She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into her side. She feels your eyes on her and meets them. You slowly glance over to Agatha and Billy and then back at her. She shakes her head and you nod to yourself.

When Billy shoots Agatha the coven gasp seeing Agatha’s power in real time, sucking the magic out of the boy.

“She’s going to kill him,” Alice mumbles under her breath.

“She won’t,” Lilia and Jen say at the same time.

Agatha hears them and subtly surprised by their confidence in her. Upon hearing it, she cuts the ties with Billy. He stumbles to the ground, but is quickly helped by the rest of the coven.

“Finally, everyone get what they wanted?” Rio claps her hands together.

The all hum in agreement.

“Great, now get out,” she points to the exit of the backyard.

It starts a commotion again as they start to talk over each other.

“SILENCE!” Your voice echoes causing them all to stop talking. “I get it, you’re a coven now, found family yay, etcetera, etcetera. As a familiar who has been separated from her witches, I would really hate for you to get in the way of what would be our first time alone together in centuries. That would really piss me off.”

They murmur in consensus.

“We’ll let you know when it’s ok to come over,” Agatha says shooing them away in the process.

They all pile into Billy’s car and the three of you wave them away. As soon as they pull off, you enter Agatha’s home.

“Well, now what?” Rio asks.

Agatha flicks her fingers replacing her dirt covered clothes, before doing the same to you.

“I don’t know about you, but my back has been begging for a mattress after sleeping on that awful ground,” Agatha cracks her back.

“Pillows,” you nod in agreement.

The three of you climb up the stairs to the bedroom. Once you’re inside, you fall face first into the middle of the bed. Moaning in pleasure as the bed melds to hold your body.

“I hope to hear more of that later,” Rio lays in the space to your right.

Agatha lays to your left, “Such a pretty sound, sweetheart.”

You groan, turning your head between the two women, “Yes, later we can do that, but now it’s time to sleep. So less talking, more cuddling.”

“It’s not even 5 pm.”

“I can go sleep on the couch if you want to argue with me,” you tell them.

“No,” they say in unison.

You smile, “That’s what, I thought. Now, hold me.”

Agatha and Rio’s fingers intertwine as they wrap their arms around you. It’s warm and safe, the horrors of the road, no longer haunting.

You too, had gotten what you wanted from the road. It was this. Rio and Agatha; you all back together. For a moment, having a simple domestic life.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, especially now that Agatha had her own little coven of chaos. Yet the thought of it made you smile. As long as the three of you were together, everything would work out alright.

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #alice wu gulliver #billy maximoff #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader

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https-kittyx3 · 28 days ago

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pls pls pls could you write a poly!odypen x reader? I really loved your Telemachus story!!! :D

we will fall in love with you again

TEEHEE thank you very much, i wasnt so proud of that so i'm glad you loved it!!

also poly odypen request???!?!? YES. UESUESUEUSEUSYESUEYS i really really want more Epic requests aaahh i am obsessed with writing stuff about it. i have multiple hermes fics i started and never finished lmao

btw i swear i've seen you in the tags before, you should totally write epic the musical fics!! i'm curious about the one you said you have based on your self insert >:3

also this is kinda angsty i think? but it leads up to fluff!! i promise i won't break your heart <3

not proofread at all, excuse is in the tags lolol

lowercase intended || art cred

all throughout your life, you would have never expected what kind of relationship you'd have in your adulthood. younger you would imagine settling down with someone you fell in love with, living in a house together and spending the last of your days side by side.

the idea of having two lovers was the last thing you'd think about. it wasn't even something you knew you were capable of — loving two people at the same time? wouldn't it be unfair if you ended up loving one more than the other?

as much as that worry was understandable, it'd never end up becoming a problem; odysseus and penelope both earned your affections equally. they've both been your friends since what felt like the beginning of time - you never kept anything from each other, always made time for one another, and never had trouble speaking your minds... until things became complicated.

you tried so desperately to ignore it—the growing feelings you felt towards both of your best friends. it was anxiety inducing, especially since it was overly clear that the two were interested in each other. no matter the way it went, someone was going to be heartbroken. someone was going to be sad and the three of you could never be the same. it was agonizing to think about, to imagine the outcomes - you adore them both, to lose what you have would be your biggest regret.

ignoring your feelings seemed like the best bet for the longest time, but there was always that pang in your chest every time they'd talk about each other to you that reminded you of your own heart.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"it's endearing how awkward he gets," penelope airily chuckles as she folds strands of her hair over and over in a pattern to create a braid, "sometimes, it's like he can barely form words around me... i wonder if that means he feels the same."

you feel yourself biting the inside of your cheek, carefully braiding the other side of penelope's hair for her. it was a mindless action the two of you fell into as you chatted together. all you manage to give her is a hum, your heart growing a tad heavy once again. penelope shifts, almost as if she senses your hesitation.

"is something the matter?" she questions with concern, tying the ends of her hair together to keep the braid from coming undone. penelope's always been the one who can read your emotions — it's one of the many things that made you fall for her. she's gentle, earnest... there isn't a chance in the underworld that she'd ignore your sadness. as your friend, she's here for you. she always has been.

you gaze at her slowly, almost afraid to look her in the eye - you could break at any moment, admit everything you're feeling, and ruin all you're familiar with. you don't want that, even if it leads to an eternity of heartache.

"of course! i apologize, i'm just distracted..." you sheepishly admit, finishing the other part of her braid. you let your hands fall away and sit in the grass below, a few strands nestling between your fingers. you grip onto them, pulling blades from their roots.

penelope sighs, having heard this time and time again over the course of your friendship. it wasn't uncommon for you to dismiss her concern, just to pop up later needing to vent - she understands it, even. so, she picks at the grass with you, but instead grabbing a flower that grows in the grass beneath you both.

she leans over you, gently placing the flower's stem behind your ear with ease. penelope then places her palm against your cheek, directing your gaze towards her with a soft touch. you feel yourself flush under her eyes and touch, your cheeks warming against her palm — part of you wonders if she notices the way you react to these small touches, and if she knows how you feel underneath your veil.

"you know you can talk to me about anything," penelope whispers with softened eyes. behind that kindness lingers her own conflict, confusion, and fear - but it wasn't known to you in this moment. in hindsight, perhaps it would've been more obvious if you looked deeper. if only you had talked to her then and there, taking up that sincere offer, things would've been more simple.

instead, your lovesick-ridden mind came up with the silliest thing you could have said;

"penelope, you're so sweet i could kiss you." you speak before you're able to think about how that sounds. you mean it as a joke... mostly, but in the moment it was meant as a way to accentuate how kind she is. instead, and with the amount of passion you spoke those words, it came off as a genuine confession.

and it's clear that penelope took it that way, with how quickly her cheeks darken in red. you pull back immediately, throwing in an awkward laugh as you gently push her hand down.

"i'm kidding! you're just... so kind. i don't know what i'd do without you."

inwardly, you sigh in relief as you watch her relax. crisis averted, you think. penelope responds with a laugh — a genuine giggle, a jingle of joy — it warms your heart faster than your face.

"likewise." she speaks with a gorgeous smile.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"i just... i don't know what to say to her!" odysseus rambles on and on about penelope, occasionally asking for your thoughts on what he should do or say, all while swinging a stick at a tree as if he were fighting a massive creature. at the same time, he paces back and forth while looking up at you from where you sit on that same tree. your legs dangle from the lowest branch, hands gripping it tightly so you don't fall. it's a rather sturdy tree - an olive tree, specifically. the one where the three of you tend to spend your spare time together, though these days it's more often just two. becoming too busy is inevitable, after all.

this day was not one of those, however. penelope is to meet the two of you any minute now, though it's becoming apparent that she's been swept away by something or other - leaving you, odysseus, and the complicated feelings within.

even though you have feelings for both of them, having only one or the other around stresses you out. you're so unstable with your feelings and thoughts that you barely trusted yourself to stay quiet about them.

"what would you do?" odysseus tosses the stick to the side, plopping down against the trunk right under the branch you sit on.

"what would i do about what?" you question, not realizing that odysseus had been talking on and on as you zoned out from above. at this point in time, you were being no better than a certain goddess who was hopeless when it came to love advice. odysseus raises a brow up at you, "about... confessing your feelings?"

"oh!" you sit up straight, a panicked look on your face that is almost comical, "what feelings? i don't have any feelings for anyone!"

odysseus snorts, resting his head against the trunk, "i was talking about confessing my feelings for penelope, but... now it sounds like you might fancy someone." odysseus teases you, but it's not so clear in the moment — you feel caught, like all your thoughts had been read and exposed. your heart picks up in pace as you shift awkwardly, trying to think up any excuse to get out of this topic, before you realize that you're leaning on nothing but air.

you fail to catch yourself before you're falling backwards towards the ground, letting out a scream as you brace for impact. you're lucky you're only so far from the ground, because any further would've been death for you.

odysseus catches you swiftly, feeling lucky that he was right below you. he didn't even have to get up to snatch you from the air — all he had to do was lean forwards and pull you against his chest to cushion your fall.

and cushion, it did. your head falls against his collarbone, and your back lands right against his torso. his arms are wrapped securely around your chest, holding you up as you lean your head back to take a look at his face.

"looks like i fell for you, heheh..." what an awful joke for an awkward situation. odysseus does the same as penelope had done — he takes your joke as a poorly veiled confession, and as much as it may be, it's not something you want to admit right after he finished talking about his feelings for someone else. that 'someone else' being your mutual companion, your third member. your best friend.

ugh. what a situation to get yourself into.

odysseus' eyes are wide and cautious, but not for long as you sit yourself up with the dismissal wave of your hands, "no, no... that came out weird! i was doing a joke, but it was bad timing..!"

oddly enough, you see odysseus' face fall into a neutral expression for a faint moment, before glowing up and into a hearty laugh. similarly to penelope, again, it warms you to hear him laugh so sincerely. he finds you funny, and that brings you joy.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

despite all the signs of the mutual feelings between the three of you, it'd be a good while before things are finally shared. the next few years are spent pining after each other, battling that inner anxiety, and finally... admitting it to yourselves.

your heart is big enough for both of them, and it's something you have grown to come to terms with. all of that confusion and inner conflict subsided into an understanding, regardless of how anxiety-inducing it all still was. penelope and odysseus were simply just the most open about their feelings for each other at first. it took you a bit more time to finally open up, but once you did, you were surprised at how open the both of them were to you.

it was exciting to finally be able to express your feelings to them, to finally be able to tell them how in love with them you are without being afraid of losing them.

unbeknownst to you, it was an internal battle for the two of them as well. that feeling of loving two people at once, yet not knowing what to do about it for the fear of losing both of them.

the three of you, now together as one, share more love between you than anyone has ever seen. even athena, whose lifespan escapes the confines of time, has never witnessed such an incredible bond as yours. she's also heard endless stories about your romance from odysseus, who can't find it in him to stop talking about you and penelope — but who can blame him? he's blessed with two of the best partners he could have asked for.

even as you three grow older, take over more dire responsibilities, and marry one another, your love never wavers.

even after penelope bears a child, after the dread of a war looms ever closer, and odysseus is swept off to save the lives of many — your bond is true.

it's ever lasting.

he'll come back to his spouses and son, whether the gods want him to or not.

#odysseus x reader #odysseus x penelope #penelope x reader #epic x reader #epic the musical x reader #etm x reader #i hope this is good enough i'm writing it while sick as heck :')#ill do fancy title color text thing later i am so exhausted fodiejdjkde

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crescenthistory · 4 months ago

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hi there love! i hope you're doing well 🤍 if it's okay w/ u, i'd like to request a regulus fic (are we surprised? no-) with an animagus! reader. maybe reggie and reader got into a fight about something and reader's still holding a grudge. they refuse to change out of their cat (or any animal u choose!) form and regulus is trying everything to get them to change back. ending in fluff probably :D

~🍓

i'm quite alright darling, hope the same goes for you<3 this little drabble is written with the same cat!animagus!reader i've written for reggie so far in mind (whiskers, my love) since she's known to be petty...

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: fem!reader, minor fight (lighthearted), embarrassment, you're petty, regulus grovels, black brothers have poor people skills, make-up, background wolfstar and (judgemental) bsf!remus

"How long has she been like this?"

Sirius was eyeing Regulus funnily, seemingly drawn between wanting to laugh at him and wondering if maybe he should comfort him. Remus felt none of the latter sentiments and all of the former.

"Since our last class on Friday," Regulus replied miserably from where his face was buried in his hands, resting atop his knees. "She shifted immediately after."

"So... for over 24 hours," Sirius surmised.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, based on how Regulus lifted his head from where he was practically bent in half, just to glare at his older brother. "Thanks for doing the maths, Sirius. Not the problem I needed solving, though." Throughout his sentence, his eyes increasingly narrowed at his brother as if his irritation grew with every word.

"No, your problem," Remus volleyed. "Is whatever the hell you've done."

Regulus groaned and buried his face once more.

Across the common room from the trio, a white and grey cat was pettily walking back and forth along whatever furniture it could reach. Its tail was standing up straight, whipping about in annoyance.

Remus poked Regulus in the ribs to get a response. "What'd you do, Baby Black?"

"I may or may not have corrected her in Potions in front of Slughorn, even though she may have been working on gaining his respect all term," Regulus murmured.

The chuckle that escaped Remus was finally one of understanding. "Ah," he said through a smile. "I believe that is what we in the business call a rookie mistake."

Regulus sat up with a jerk, hands moving emotively as he made his case to his brother and brother-in-law, where they were sat on top of each other in a plush chair. "But I've apologised! Profusely, and several times! I don't know what else to do?" The last sentence was voiced as a question, though it was not formulated as one. Perhaps the closest the younger Black brother could get to asking for help.

"Maybe you should give Slughorn a speech about how great she is."

Regulus quirked up at that, eyes zeroing in on Sirius. "You really think that would work?" Remus could have burst out laughing at the lack of sarcasm in the younger boy's voice.

"No," Remus said softly, while chidingly patting Sirius' knee. "Don't listen to him, you lot have the same amount of people skills. Do you know your girlfriend, Regulus?"

"Yes?" Regulus' voice was uncertain, looking between the boys with furrowed brows.

"What usually motivates her to hold a grudge?" Remus prompted then, ever patient.

He was quiet for a minute as he thought. "When she feels wronged. Like when Evan apologised for her 'interpretaion' of what he said instead of for him hurting her feelings, and she disliked him for three years."

Remus nodded solemnly. "And is there a reason she might still feel wronged by you now?"

Regulus' gaze finally fixated on the cat across the room, nodding too as the puzzle pieces slowly assembled in his mind. "I apologised for correcting her... but not embarrassing her. She probably feels like I was lording over her or something."

"Meaning..?" Gods, Remus was really laying it on thick here. The curse of the Black family.

"I should go tell her as much." Regulus nodded and moved to hurry over towards you, swinging around at the last minute to give the two boys an almost-smile. "Uh, thanks Sirius. Remus."

Then he was off.

Sirius turned his face into Remus' cheek. "No idea what he's thanking me for; you did all the talking."

Remus sighed, melting further into his boyfriend. "That's what I've been saying."

Regulus tenderly approached you, sitting down somewhat gingerly in a chair beside the table you were currently parading around. "Hi, amour," he said softly. "Can we talk?"

You just wagged your tail in response, in a fashion Regulus has come to learn means displeasure.

"Please love, I want to give you a proper apology. It would be best to do so face-to-face, no?" He reached his hand out towards you, an open invitation. You stopped for a moment to regard him, but then lightly slapped at his hand to get it out of your face. Regulus decided to take it as a victory that your claws were retracted at the very least – you weren't out for blood.

“Okay,” he said through a breath. “I guess I’ll just… talk to a kitten and look crazy.” Upon your quiet hiss, he amended, “Talk to a cat, sorry. Gods, I’m sputtering today, aren’t I?” That final part you seemed to agree upon at least.

“Amour, I am truly deeply sorry for embarrassing you like that. It was such a little thing, and Slughorn has been so unfair towards you this year. I didn't mean to set you back in your progression with him, though frankly, he is in the wrong there, not you. As am I. For someone who feels like he can go around correcting people, that was quite air-headed of me, yeah? The one person keeping me grounded is you, amour, please would you come back to me? You can give me a proper scolding if you’d like, I can take it.”

Regulus was pouring his heart out, and if he dared to hope, he thought your feline face might have softened. You walked closer to him, seemingly studying his face.

Then, you jumped off the table and ran away.

He sighed heavily, letting his forehead fall down to the table with a light thump. If you were going to keep giving him the furred shoulder, he might just stay here. It was hard work being a tosser who’s missing his girlfriend.

Before he could wallow further in his sorrows, he felt a soft hand be placed on his shoulder. A touch he would recognise anywhere.

His head flew up from the table to look up at you – standing above him, smiling softly and somewhat sheepishly. The hand on his shoulder grew bolder, squeezing, while the other came up to cup the side of his face. Regulus ignored any instinct to cower away and instead happily melted into your touch.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, and he knew he was mostly forgiven.

Emboldened by this new development, he turned in his seat so that his body faced you, slotting you in between his thighs and letting his hands come to rest heavily at the top of your hip. “Hi amour,” he breathed out, reverent. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you laughed, and he knew you knew what. He indulged you anyway.

“Coming back to me.” His voice was murmured, eyes hooded as he stared up at you. “I miss you when you remain as Whiskers, you know?”

“I do know,” you teased. “That’s kind of the whole point, yeah? Make you think.”

He shook his head and leaned his forehead tentatively against your stomach. “A cruel punishment, but an understandable one. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Regulus sighed when your hand migrated to scratch through his hair. “I know, baby. I just wanted to hear you say it. And–” at this point he could hear the blush in your voice “– at some point it just became principle. Too late to back out.”

Laughing against the fabric of your shirt, he moved to rest his chin against you, gazing up at you at an angle that was slightly uncomfortable but definitely worth it. He let a small grin slip. “Stubborn minx,” he whispered.

“Oi!” you chided gently. “You’re in no position to levy such accusations, mister.”

“I can’t imagine loving you more,” he said through a sigh, not even thinking over the words. They were just right, and demanded to be brought up.

If the way your body melted against his was anything to go by, you didn’t mind.

A booming voice cut the moment short. “You two are painfully dramatic,” Sirius yelled from across the room, clearly having paid attention to the whole make-up conversation. “Please never fight again.”

“And that’s coming from Sirius Black,” Remus added solemnly, earning himself an indignant swat from his partner.

“He’s right,” Regulus whispered conspiratorially to you. “I cannot be the most dramatic Black brother, that would be blasphemy.”

“Then I suggest,” you said before giving him a light peck, “you be on your best behaviour from now on.

A grin. “Yes ma’am.”

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smartkookiee · 5 months ago

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Wounds We Never Show // Ch.4 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, multiple uses of the middle finger, some medical talk, Smoking,.........SMUT, making out, heavy petting, dirty talk, protected sex (WRAP IT UP), cum eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f.receiving), cowgirl, JK a little obsessed with your body (squint), somewhat pathetic jk? yeah its really hot and intense just trust me, like the tension is so.... Oh it all sorts of confusing for everyone's feelings. This chapter had ME giggling ❥word-count: 15.1k (hehehe) ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

You had hoped—no—prayed, that your gas station encounter with Jungkook would be a one off encounter. You had pushed it from your mind and tucked it away because it probably would be the only time it would happen. It has been kicking up old memories these days. Old frustrations and annoyances as well.

Many stories for another time, but college was on your mind now. How everything played out… you still to this day have no idea what set Jungkook off so bad.

Sighing, you stirred your noodles in your ramen cup, eyes tracing little circles as you zoned out in thought. This side of the hospital was quieter, and you enjoyed the break room here. A small, cozy spot where you could actually hear yourself think. You were so lost in memories that you didn’t notice someone else had walked in.

“Y/N?”

You blinked and looked up, nearly dropping your chopsticks. Dr. Kim Seokjin stood beside you, his tall frame practically radiating energy. His white coat was open, slightly wrinkled as if he’d been speed-walking for hours, and he was flashing you the kind of grin that could probably be seen from space.

“Dr. Kim,” you said, straightening up, a polite smile forming. You’d wanted to talk with him yesterday, but schedules had kept you both busy. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” He laughed and held a hand out to you in a theatrical manner. “I know we’ve met before but thought I should reintroduce myself. Properly this time!”

“Oh, no problem, sir. I feel like I know everything about you already, the others have been filling me in.” You took his hand, and his grip was warm and reassuring, with just a hint of that showmanship flair he couldn’t seem to hide.

“And I’ve been seeing your work in the charts,” he said, barely pausing for breath. “Your attention to detail is phenomenal! I’m really sorry I haven’t been around to welcome you properly! Vic’s thrilled to have you up here—I get why,” He puttered around the small room to the counters, taking an apple. “And listen, my office is always open if you need anything. Anything. Or just go and pester Yoongi,” he added with a gleam in his eye. “He needs a good pestering every now and then.”

You laugh, nodding. “Oh I have no issue bothering Yoongi.”

“Perfect, you'll do great up here.” Tossing the apple up and catching it smoothly, he began to take a few small steps back out of the room, “Wish I could stay and chat more, but surgery calls. But hey, we’ll talk later this week. I promise!”

Right then, he bumped backward straight into Vic, who was stepping into the room with a look that could cut through any excuse Seokjin could come up with. She gave him a once-over, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to surgery, Dr. Kim?” She asked, her voice dry as sandpaper.

Seokjin’s face twisted into a pout. “Wow, not even a good morning, Dr. Kim, you miracle-worker? Or maybe, how was your life-changing surgery last night?” He took an exaggerated bite out of his apple, grinning at her with a mischievous gleam.

Vic rolled her eyes but humored him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Good morning, Dr. Kim, miracle-worker. How was your life-changing surgery last night? Now can you get to the surgical floor before they decide to operate on you instead?”

“Fine,” Seokjin continued to pout as he made his way out of the room, calling back. “I’ll have you know I saved at least seven lives last night!”

“Great, now go save seven more!” Vic let out an exasperated laugh, closing the break room door. You laughed a little bit taking another bite of your ramen. Vic pulled up a chair in front of you, slumping down with a heavy sigh.

“He certainty makes your life easy, huh?” You tease Vic, and she laughs.

“Oh, definitely,” Vic replied, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her fond smile. “But he’s a good guy, even with all the theatrics. A great surgeon.”

“I believe it.” You said. Even though it was only your second day up here you had already heard so many good things. You knew Seokjin somewhat but now you felt like you really knew him—even though you had maybe two conversations.

Vic leaned on her hand, watching you with a glint of curiosity. “Please tell me you have an interesting story or something to distract me with. I’m about to lose my mind doing the same rounds all day.”

You snort, dragging out a long sigh for effect., “I ran into Jungkook last night.”

Her eyes lit up, and she sat up straight. “Oh really?”

“Turns out he works close to where I live. We bumped into each other at the store by my place.” You scrunch your face up in mild annoyance.

“Booty call on demand. That’s convenient.” Vic laughs to herself but can tell you aren’t so amused. “Sorry, so was it weird?”

You paused, “A little? He… wanted to talk about it.”

“Oh, interesting.” Vic scooted her chair closer to you, like you were going to reveal some big secret.

So, you told her everything—not that there was much to tell, but Vic was hanging on every word as if it were the best gossip she'd heard all week. You admitted you were hoping it was a one-off encounter; the idea of walking a couple of extra blocks just to avoid the place was tempting.

“How fun!” Vic leaned back in her seat and rested her arms behind her head.

You roll your eyes, “You and I have different definitions of fun.”

Vic smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Every time you guys meet, it’s like God flips a coin. Fight or... you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, her grin widening as you kicked her ankle under the table.

“Stop.” You stood up, mostly eager to escape her relentless teasing.

You pushed the thought of Jungkook out of your mind, spending the rest of the day diving into your rounds. By the time you finished, exhaustion hit you full force, but you decided you needed a quick pick-me-up. Maybe a small snack and an energy drink for tomorrow would do you some good. So you stopped by the convenience store near your apartment again today, hoping for a quiet, uneventful errand.

Well that was up until–

“Oh god damn it,” you muttered under your breath, spotting Jungkook at the end of one of the aisles. He noticed you at the same moment, blinking as if the universe had just pulled a fast one on him.

“You’re kidding right?” Jungkook whispered into the air, looking up to the ceiling like he was talking to something else. Of course you would be here again, he had purposefully decided to show up at a different time in the hopes he wouldn’t run into you again but here you were.

You quickly grabbed your snack, brushing past him without a word, darting to the drinks for a swift escape. Jungkook watched for a second before going back to his shopping, both of you clearly trying to act unaffected. After rushing to the counter, you checked out and slipped out of the store as quickly as you’d arrived. Behind you, Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, relieved, mentally vowing to stick to later store runs to avoid the awkwardness.

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans. The next day, the same scenario unfolded.

As you walked out of the store later the next evening, your steps faltered when you saw him entering. His expression mirrored your own—the wide-eyed disbelief, followed by something more annoyed and inpatient.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jungkook muttered, glancing heavenward as if to say seriously, again?

Your eyes narrowed, your disbelief morphing quickly into irritation. “Stalking me now, Jungkook?” Without missing a beat, you bumped your shoulder into his as you passed. Deliberately harder than necessary.

Jungkook snorted, throwing you an unimpressed glance. “You aren’t even worth the breath it would take to come up with an insult,” he muttered, turning away as if the encounter bored him.

You looked back, a mocking smile playing on your lips. “Disappointing,” you said, tone dripping with satisfaction. “Your comebacks are getting lazy.”

Jungkook just went inside, not even bothering with a response. He couldn’t help but think three times in the same week? This would be the most you and Jungkook had seen each in such a short period in five years. What kind of joke was this? Was this some kind of punishment for your ill-advised night together? Did the two of you tip some kind of karmic scale somewhere so you were doomed to keep running into each other? Whatever it was, Jungkook could only hope that this was the last time.

Except it didn’t end there, cause the next evening–

You rounded the corner of an aisle only to freeze, spotting Jungkook standing by the drink fridge again, his back to you. He turned just as you did, his face falling into an exasperated glare. “Okay, now I really need a restraining order,” you said, folding your arms with an annoyed sigh.

“Funny, I’ve been nice enough to come at different times every day. Maybe I need the restraining order.” He pressed his tongue against his cheek, clearly just as irked. He yanked a drink from the fridge with unnecessary force, glancing at you as if daring you to counter him.

You shook your head, unimpressed. “I live in this neighborhood, so if anyone should be giving up their convenience store privileges, it’s you.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, stepping closer. “Maybe it’s fate’s way of telling you to find a new place.”

You scoffed, holding his gaze. “Please. If anything, fate’s just telling you that I was here first. So maybe you’re the one who needs to find a new store.”

“You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are, you know that?” He smirked, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Keep testing me, and you might find out just how scary I can be.” Grabbing your drink, you attempted to brush past him, but he shifted just enough to subtly stick his foot out. The move was barely noticeable—until you tripped, stumbling forward. You whipped around, eyes blazing with white-hot rage, only to see Jungkook with a look of pure satisfaction, like he’d just won some unspoken game.

“Oh, whoops.” he said, his voice dripping with childish amusement. Jungkook never thought in his grown age he would be intentionally tripping someone else, but he was always surprised when it came to your interactions.

“Seriously?” you hissed, glaring at him.

Jungkook shrugged, clearly unfazed as he made his way toward the counter, all too pleased with himself. “Careful, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You let out a scoff, not caring about the stares from the other customers as you muttered under your breath, “Fuck you.”

Jungkook looked back with an infuriatingly casual grin, then quickly left with a wave before you had the chance to retaliate. He was out of the store and gone before you could fully process the whole interaction, leaving you fuming and oddly rattled, wondering just how far this little war would go.

The tension between you two was unmistakably intensifying, each encounter adding to the growing irritation. Determined to avoid him, you decided to go to the store way earlier than usual the next day. You’d planned it all out in your head, you scoped out the store through the window, even checked up and down the street for any sign of him. It had appeared to be all clear. All you needed was some ibuprofen so this should be quick. Confident, you headed on inside, grabbed what you needed and checked out, hoping to finally break the streak of unfortunate coincidences.

But, of course, fate was not done testing you.

As you stepped out of the store, bag in hand, you glanced left and there he was. This time, he had a friend with him, chatting casually as they strolled down the street. Jungkook spotted you at the same moment, his face shifting from casual amusement to a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

A laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, part amusement and part resignation. The absurdity of it was almost impressive at this point. Jungkook’s friend noticed the interaction, giving him a curious look. Jungkook just sighed, visibly exhausted by the constant run-ins. Now Jimin got to experience this chance encounter.

At this point, you’d completely abandoned any pretense of politeness. Without breaking stride, you lifted both hands, middle fingers raised, and started walking backward up the street, smirking as you saw the irritation flicker across Jungkook’s face.

“Real mature.” Jungkook called, shaking his head.

You shrugged, calling back, “I go high when you go low.” With that, you turned on your heel and continued down the street. Jungkook sighed, grateful this encounter hadn’t escalated further.

Jimin watched you walk away, eyebrows raised. “You gonna explain what that was all about?”

“That,” Jungkook muttered, heading into the store, “was a usual encounter with Y/N.”

“Oh… oh.” Jimin nodded, connecting the dots. He and Jungkook had been friends for ages, so although he hadn’t met you before, he’d definitely heard tales of you—and now he was seeing it all firsthand. “You really weren’t joking.”

Jungkook snorted, grabbing a snack. “I couldn’t make this up if I tried.”

Jungkook began to give Jimin a quick rundown of the week’s events as they walked back to the office after getting a few things. Jungkook describes each encounter more ridiculous than the last, his annoyance apparent. Jimin’s grin only grew wider with every detail, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Wait, so you’ve really been running into each other all week?”

“Like clockwork,” Jungkook muttered, exasperated. “It’s like she knows exactly when I’ll be here.”

“Well if you go missing, I’ll know where to start looking for you.” Jimin joked and Jungkook brushed him off.

It wasn’t a joke. If Jungkook did go missing you probably would be the first suspect. You weren’t too far off from wanting to strangle him usually so it would be justified.

Now it was Saturday and you were back at work so you decided to just avoid the store altogether today, no way you could run into him if you just didn't show up. Plus tonight you would be going out. Ash and you planned to go to an emo night and you couldn’t wait, it was your reward for making it through this week for sure.

Still, you found your thoughts drifting to Jungkook’s irritatingly smug face as you went about your work. You were so distracted that you barely noticed Ji-eun watching you, a touch of concern in her eyes.

“You okay, kid?” Ji-eun asked, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She tilted her head, studying you.

You blinked, realizing you’d zoned out completely. “Sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile as you noted her blood pressure on your tablet. “I got so distracted I didn’t even realize you were talking.”

She laughed, waving a hand as if brushing away your apology. “Oh, don’t be silly. I was just rambling about my kids anyway.” She gave you a knowing look. “But I can tell something’s weighing on you.”

You were a little taken aback by her question, “Oh it’s just personal things.”

“Well I’ve got loads of advice if you need some. I’ve nothing better to do these days.” She gestured around at the obvious surroundings, she must have been getting bored as even though its only been a few days. The room had slowly been filling up with crochet projects, the corpes of the failed pieces had piled up in the corner of the room. “Come on, you can tell me while you finish up.”

You chuckled, typing a few notes into your tablet. “It’s complicated… there’s this guy.”

Ji-eun cuts you off with a knowing smile, “Ain't it always a guy.”

You laugh but shake your head, “Not with me usually. It’s also not like that… this guy is seriously just–” You paused, your mouth in a tight line and your shoulders rising just at the thought of Jungkook, “an absolute nightmare.”

“Nightmare? He sounds intense. What did he do to earn that title?” Ji-eun asked, her eyes wide with amused curiosity.

“Now that is a much longer and complicated story.” You sigh, continuing to move around her, beginning to inspect her skin.

“Again. I have all the time in the world.” Ji-eun really was desperate for a good story, and honestly you were a little desperate to lay it all out on the table again.

You found yourself more willing to spill the details than you expected. “We knew each other in college but had a big blowout. Then ever since, we fight and argue and it sometimes borders on physical altercations. I’ve never met anyone who can get under my skin like he does. But we ended up as the maid of honor and best man at our friends’ wedding, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to be civil.”

“And?” she prompted, amused.

You shook your head, moving to examine her skin as part of her routine. “We just fought again. Normally, I can avoid him in most situations, but this week? I’ve run into him every single day. It’s like he’s popping up everywhere.”

“Sounds like the universe is really having a field day with the two of you.” She grinned at you childishly.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you checked Ji-eun’s arms and made sure there were no signs of discoloration or swelling. “Feels like it. I keep turning corners, and there he is, just… waiting to ruin my day.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened as she watched you, nodding as you recounted the drama. “Sounds exhausting,” she said gently. “Sometimes, we end up running into people like that for a reason though. Especially because it sounds like there is major unfinished business here.”

You sighed, moving down to check the circulation in her legs, grateful that she didn’t seem to mind your rambling. “Oh, there’s a reason all right—to remind me that my patience has limits.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Believe me, I’ve had my share of people who made my blood boil. But, you know, it made me realize that some people test us because they see something in us. Sometimes, even if it’s frustrating, it’s a chance to learn something.”

“I don’t think there’s anything he sees in me other than a chance to annoy me. It’s been five years of this so if I was supposed to learn something I would hope I would have figured it out by now.” You note a few things in her chart. Ji-eun hadn’t been showing really any signs of fatigue lately but you could tell that she was shaking a little bit when holding up her legs.

Ji-eun tilted her head, her tone thoughtful as she continued. “Sometimes, we’re put in front of the same person over and over because it’s life’s way of pushing us toward something or to be better. And that doesn’t have to mean romance—it could mean resolving something. Or maybe finding a way to make peace? Maybe this is the universe saying hey, heres you opportunity to fix everything?”

You scoffed softly, checking her pulse and nodding as it came back steady. “I don’t think peace is anywhere in our future.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Just don’t let him control your day-to-day. One lesson I’ve learned is to live for what makes you happy, not what keeps you frustrated. You don’t have to let him have so much power over your mood. He’s just a stupid boy after all. Sometimes, it’s just about saying to yourself, He’s not worth it.”

You considered her words, hesitating as you updated her notes on your tablet. She was right; it was draining to have Jungkook on your mind constantly, even if it was just anger. Maybe part of what frustrated you was how much headspace he took up, how he seemed to affect your peace.

“I guess I hadn’t realized how much he had been ruining my mood.” You let out a long dragged out sigh, “You are pretty good with the advice.”

“I know!” She flashed you a big cheesy grin again, immediately improving your mood. “I don’t have any daughters so it’s nice to grant what wisdom I have to someone else. About boys and other things.”

You finish up with Ji-eun and you continue about the rest of your day in a much better mood. She was absolutely right, Jungkook was an idiot and you should not let him ruin your mood. After all you finally were going to spend a fun evening out with Ash. So you picked yourself up and pushed through the rest of the day to get to this evening. Ash would be coming over since she wanted to steal some clothes and make up for you.

The two of you would be joining Hoseok for an emo night at the club you went too for Melanie's Bachelorette party. You had really been looking forward too it all week. It would be your reward for surviving Jungkook.

Once you made it home, Ash had already arrived and was waiting outside. She made herself very comfortable shuffling through your closet like she lived here herself. You had already picked out an outfit aside so now you were really just waiting on Ash to make some decisions. In her rummaging you decided to call Melanie, filling her in on your eventful week with satan's spawn.

“I think you’re being just a tiny bit dramatic,” Melanie said, her voice crackling through the phone as you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. Namjoon and Melanie were still on their honeymoon but Namjoon wasn’t feeling good so she had a few minutes to talk.

“I don’t think shopping at the same convenience store is going to kill you,” Melanie continued, the patience in her tone borderline condescending.

“You don’t know that!” You protested, “For all I know, he could hex the place. Next time I walk in, bam! Up in flames.”

“Highly unlikely,” she said, her voice dry.

“I mean,” Ash pipes up from inside your closet, having pulled out a dress only to toss it back in. “You can’t completely rule it out, though.”

“See? Ash gets it.”

Melanie sighed. “Fine. If you go back to the convenience store and spontaneously combust, I will issue a formal statement in your obituary that I was wrong.”

“It’s the least you could do,” you said, throwing in an exaggerated sniffle for dramatic effect. You could practically hear Melanie’s eye-roll through the phone.

“Still, it’s kind of weird that you’ve lived there this long and never run into each other.” she muses.

Ash agrees from your closet. “Jungkook’s been working at that firm for like two years. It’s shocking your paths haven’t crossed.”

“It’s a sick, twisted joke is what it is,” you huff, folding a pair of jeans that Ash discarded. “Can’t believe he tripped me.”

“Again, dramatic,” Melanie muttered.

“Yeah yeah enough about me. When do you guys get back? I need some Melanie time.” This was probably the longest stretch of period you had gone without seeing Melanie. You had been attached at the hip since you met basically.

“Tomorrow night, we will be in super late. Someone wanted to be back to work on Monday.” Her tone clearly pointed towards Namjoon. You let out a snort. It’s been two weeks since the wedding so Namjoon was probably itching to get back to his routine.

Ash came out of your closet with a dress and leather jacket combo, “How does this look?”

You think for a moment, “If you accessorize it I think it will be great.” Which you had plenty of accessories to dress it up just right. You also needed her to decide because it was already late and you two needed to start getting ready.

“I can’t believe you guys are going out without me. You must hate me.” Melanie whines on the other side of the phone and you laugh at her.

“You are in paradise. With the love of your life,” you laugh, plopping your phone down on the bed as you slip on your outfit. “I would take that over an emo night any day.”

“No, you guys hate me,” she insists, fake-crying loudly into the phone. You and Ash exchange amused glances.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ash coos into the phone, laughing as she rummages through your jewelry box.

After some playful back-and-forth, Melanie finally hangs up, still grumbling in betrayal. You and Ash pick up the pace, now racing against the clock to get ready. Ash is better at makeup than you, so once she’s done, she helps you with a bold, modern emo look—sharp eyeliner and dark lipstick that gives a bit of edge without going full 2010s throwback.

After some last-minute touch-ups, you and Ash finally head out, both buzzing with excitement. The club is packed when you arrive, but the line moves quickly, and soon you’re slipping inside to the familiar pulse of music and flashing lights. Inside, you and Ash share a grin, already swept up in the energy of the night.

Once inside, the club is already alive with energy, dark lights and neon hues casting a moody glow over the dance floor. People are scattered around, some nodding along to the beat, others fully immersed, lost in the music. You and Ash weave your way through the crowd, searching for Hoseok.

It doesn’t take long to spot him by the bar, where he’s already ordered a round for the three of you. He’s dressed to match the night’s vibe, with dark clothes and a silver chain, looking effortlessly cool. He grins as he catches sight of you both.

“My babies! Took you long enough!” he teases, sliding the drinks over as you reach him.

“Blame Ash,” you reply, elbowing her playfully.

Ash scoffs. “Please, you’re the one who needed help with eyeliner!”

“Whatever, it’s time to actually get this party started!” Hoseok says. The three of you clink glasses, laughing as you take your first sips. The familiar taste mixes perfectly with the thrum of guitar filling the air, already pulling you into the spirit of the night.

A song Ash knew immediately filled the air of the club and Ash let out an excited yell, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto the dance floor. You barely have a moment to take another sip before she’s dragging you through the crowd, laughing all the way.

Hoseok follows, and soon the three of you are lost in the sea of people, letting the music take over. Ash throws her arms up, singing along to every word, and you find yourself joining in, laughing when you miss a lyric here or there. Hoseok, usually the smoothest of dancers, isn’t above a little head-banging, which only makes you all laugh harder.

After a while, you retreat to the edge of the dance floor, panting and grinning. Hoseok comes back with another round, passing you something sweet. The refreshing drink is exactly what you need after dancing up a storm.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you sigh, savoring the cool, sugary flavor.

Ash, fanning herself dramatically, suggests, “Let’s catch some air.” You and Hoseok nod, following her outside. The November night is brisk, and the cold air hits you like a splash of water—invigorating after the club’s stuffy heat. You take a deep breath, grateful for the moment to cool down.

As you settle into a quiet corner on the patio, mostly used by smokers, Ash turns to you. “Was that bartender from last time here?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

You shake your head, a little disappointed. “Nope. I was hoping to see him, though! Maybe he’s just not working tonight.”

“Boo,” Hoseok pouts, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a playful shake. “Don’t worry, we can find you someone better.”

“Oh yeah?” you laugh looking over your shoulder at him.

“He does know like everyone.” Ash smirks, it was true. It was always a staple for your group outings that Hoseok always knew someone. Hoseok is a magnet for people. Outgoing and effortlessly charming, he always manages to bump into familiar faces no matter where you go.

Hoseok just shrugs with a mischievous smile. “What can I say? I’m a people person.”

“I think I’m okay.” You giggle leaning against one of the walls next to you guys.

Hoseok does seem to have something catch his eye a little too quickly. “Don’t hate me but I’ll be right back.”

Before either you or Ash could get a word in Hoseok hopped away over to another group that was just out of your sight. “How does he do that?” Ash laughs trying to follow him with her eyes.

“I don’t get it either. He just loves meeting people.” You sip on your drink for a second, it giving you a much needed buzz. Hoseok definitely made sure this second drink was a little stronger than the first.

“Oh I think he is waving us over.” Ash grabs your wrist and starts pulling you in his direction. It takes a little bobbing and weaving past other groups out here but he eventually comes into sight. Waving at the both of you with a big smile on his face from something someone said in the group.

“Jimin!” Hoseok gestures enthusiastically as you approach. “Meet my friends Ash and Y/N!”

Jimin turns, flashing a warm smile as he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you both! Hoseok’s told me all about you.”

“Oh no,” Ash teases, shaking his hand with a stare at Hoseok. “I hope he didn’t embarrass us.”

Jimin laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Only good things, I promise. You’re safe.”

As you shake his hand, something about him feels strangely familiar, though you can’t quite place it. “How do you know Hobi?”

Jimin grins, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Oh, we go way, way back. I could tell you so many stories.”

“Way too many,” Hoseok chuckles, nudging him. “I don’t need them using any of those stories against me.”

“Too late,” you laugh, and the three of you share a smile.

Just then, Hoseok’s eyes light up as he glances to the side. “Ah, there you are!” he says, breaking away from Jimin to greet someone else.

You follow his gaze, and your heart skips a beat as you spot Jungkook, striding over with his usual relaxed confidence. He was in a dark shirt with a printed ribcage on it and wore a leather jacket on top and fitting cargo pants, and really large combat boots. Definitely understanding the assignment for the theme. It takes you a second to register that it’s actually him standing there. You instinctively turn to Ash, who has her mouth wide open in shock before breaking into quiet laughter at the absurdity of your luck.

“JK!” Hoseok says warmly, pulling Jungkook into a quick hug.

Jungkook, still oblivious to you, is in mid-conversation with Hoseok when Ash’s laughter finally catches his attention. His eyes shift, first to Ash, and then they land on you. His smile fades, and you can see the disbelief setting in.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoff.

“What are the odds?” Jungkook's expression turns equally unimpressed. “This night just went downhill.”

“Believe me, I’m just as thrilled to see you.” you retort, crossing your arms.

Hoseok glances between the two of you, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Ash covers her mouth, barely containing her amusement. “Oh, they know each other all right.” Although sometimes you and Jungkook took your fights too far, Ash did find quite a bit of entertainment in them.

“Oh you’re Y/N?” Jimin piped up after noticing the draggers you and Jungkook were throwing at each other with your eyes. “This guy hasn’t shut up about you all week. I saw your theatrics yesterday. Really funny.”

Any other time you would have cringed at your public display of hatred but you were too busy focussing on Jungkook standing here. You didn’t notice it until now but he had a lip piercing. You had no idea he had a lip piercing did you? Was it fake? “Wow talking about me to your friends, it seems you really are my biggest fan aren’t you?” You say, disdain in your tone.

Jungkook’s eyes glint with mischief. “Biggest fan? More like a spectator. Someone has to make sure you don’t take down the whole room with you.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Please. I think you’re just secretly obsessed with me. It’s kind of pathetic, actually.”

“Hey, okay, how about we reel it in.” Ash throws an arm over your shoulder, wanting to break the tension before it gets too high. You finished off your drink with some annoyance, you were just getting started.

“Yes, how about another round?” Hoseok looks around the group. Ash nods a little too enthusiastically and starts pushing you away. You were giving the death glare to Jungkook until you could no longer see him over your shoulder. Hoseok trailing close behind.

“She’s cute, I see why you fight with her so often.” Jimin pokes Jungkooks cheek to tease him and jungkook swats his hand away.

“It’s really not like that.”

“Weren’t you telling me the other day that you guys called a truce at that wedding you went to or something? What happened there?” Jimin folded his arms over his chest.

“A temporary truce. Back to our normal selves now.” Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and his lighter from his pocket. Lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag, brushing past the subject. He would find any reason to not have to talk about you anymore.

“What did you guys do to make it work?” Jimin found his curiosity piqued the more Jungkook tried to push the subject away, Folding his arms over his chest.

“Why so curious?” Jungkook raises his eyebrow, offering the cigarette to Jimin as a way of distraction.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Jimin could tell Jungkook now had more to tell than he was letting on.

“Avoiding what?” Taehyung strolled up the both of them, Jungkook and Jimin had gotten so wrapped up that they forgot they were waiting for him to arrive. Which was the whole reason they had been hanging out here at all.

“Look who finally showed up,” Jungkook says, giving Taehyung a side hug.

“He’s avoiding my questions about Y/N,” Jimin informs Taehyung, taking another drag from the cigarette before Jungkook snatches it back.

Taehyung let out a breathy laugh, “Jesus, where can you even start with the history between these two.”

“You just missed a sparkling encounter between them.” Jimin nodded his head inside where you had gone. Taehyung immediately perked up.

“She’s here? Where?” Taehyung glancing around to see if he can spot you.

“Oh so you like Y/N?” Jimin asked.

“Oh she’s awesome.” Taehyung beamed, he really did think highly of you. Jungkook is very obviously peeved by your glowing review from Taehyung. “Oh come on, she's so sweet!”

“Interesting.” Jimin nodded, rubbing his chin.

“More like rotten inside and out.” Jungkook mumbled, letting his annoyance bubble up.

Taehyung bumped Jungkook's shoulder with his own, “He’s an unreliable source. She’s never been anything but wonderful to me. Oh, if only she would accept my hand.” Taehyung dramatically sighed a hand on his forehead.

“Please I’ve never seen you commit to keeping a plant alive, let alone to another person.” Jungkook laughs.

“True,” Taehyung grinned, knowing full well he'd probably leave with someone by the end of the night, just to add to his reputation. “But she’s gorgeous, and she’s way too good for anyone.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Jungkook groaned, feeling his skin prickle at the mention of you.

“Oh, she really gets under your skin, huh?” Jimin smirked, clearly enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort. “I’ll have to keep this in mind.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Taehyung rolled his eyes knowingly.

Jungkook tried his best to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Jimin’s interest only seemed to deepen. Jungkook could already tell this topic wouldn’t die easily, especially with Jimin's tendency to dig for juicy details.

As the night wore on the three of them eventually made it back inside and had a handful of drinks of their own. Enjoying the music, and singing along to the songs. So were you, Ash, and Hoseok. You all had basically stayed glued to the dance floor when you were not getting more drinks. Screaming at the top of your lungs and rocking out as hard as you could. Your worry about Jungkook ruining the night had melted away rather quickly with each shot you took.

With every shot, your confidence and sense of adventure grew. You had a habit of wandering off when you got drunk, and tonight was no exception. Ash had been doing her best to keep an eye on you, fully aware of this tendency. But as soon as she looked away for a moment—just as Hoseok stepped away to grab some waters—you were gone. Pushing her way through the crowded club, Ash searched for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Her concern grew with each passing minute, especially since she was fairly intoxicated herself, making her sense of direction hazy. She quickly texted Hoseok about the situation, and he, too, began weaving through the crowd in search of you.

Ash emerged out of the crowd to eventually bump into Taehyung and Jungkook trying to go out onto the floor.

“Tae?” She looked at him confused but then relieved, “I had no idea you were here.”

“Hey!” Taehyung slurred his words as he pulled Ash into a hug, “Where have you been all night?”

“On the dance floor!” She grinned, grabbing his and Jungkook’s arms to steady herself. “Hey, have either of you seen Y/N? She tends to... wander after a few drinks, and I can’t find her.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Not since we saw you guys outside.”

“Can you please help me find her?” Ash knew asking for anything from Jungkook when it came to you would be a long shot.

“Of course we will.” Taehyung nodded his head vigorously and patted Jungkook on the back, “We are on it.”

Ash gives a thankful smile between the both of them, “Thank you, please text me when you find her.” Ash then without another word moves on to continue trying to find you.

Jungkook groaned, the alcohol making him a little too open with his emotions. “Do I have too?”

“Yes. Be a good friend to Ash and look around.” Taehyung pushed him into the opposite direction of himself, thinking maybe that splitting up would make it easier.

Jungkook trudged around the edge of the club looking in tables and in darker corners to see if you had gotten scooped up somewhere or were clinging to a wall. He decided you probably also were going to need some water once he found you and you would need a minute to sober up. The water cup he got posed a little bit of a spill threat anywhere he went though. He was pretty tipsy himself but not enough he wouldn’t recognize your annoying face or voice when he spotted it. He was having no luck this way so he decided to move around the dance area to see if maybe you had got swept away with some of the crowd.

Which Jungooks thought wouldn’t be too wrong. You really had just gotten pulled into the crowd, you hadn’t really noticed Ash had gone missing since you were just enjoying the music. You had sent a few drunk voice messages to Melanie, who you were sure would have some hilarious responses too in the morning. You had become overwhelmed with the amount of people around you and the heat though so you decided to start pushing your way out, which doing while rather tipsy was somewhat difficult.

You felt yourself tilt a little and bump your head straight into someone’s chest. What you didn’t immediately register was that the front of your top had become completely soaked. Shocking you almost to a sober state from the ice cold water. You immediately felt bad because you may have just accidentally bumped into someone and their drink spilled down on you.

“I’m so sorry.” You throw your hands over your mouth and look up to see the person, finding Jungkook to be on the other end of your apology, “Oh it’s you again!”

“Shit.” Jungook knew how cold that water probably was. He really did feel bad that it got split but you had come outta nowhere at him.

You scoff and glance down at your now soaked front annoyed. Your wobbly brain not totally thinking straight. “You totally did that on purpose.” Just as you were saying it you swayed a bit. Jungkook notices you losing your balance and steadies you.

“Ash asked me to find you. That water was for you.” He helped move you away from the center of the room and to a less crowded spot.

“Yeah whatever. You wanted to embarrass me right? Cause I embarrassed you in front of your friend Jim.” You slur and start to stumble away from Jungkook. If it weren’t you he may have laughed at the thought of someone calling Jimin Jim instead.

“Believe it or not. I don’t spare you that much thought.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, but continued to follow you. Making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face, which would have been amusing in his mind.

Jungkook tried to keep his hands on your shoulders to guide you away but you kept swatting them off of you. “Your voice is so annoying. You’re annoying. Get away from me, annoying boy.”

“I am actually trying to help you, I’ll have you know.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. You could swat his hands away a thousand times. He was still going to get you back to Ash.

You sway back and forth, it had started to make you feel a little seasick and you were worried you may actually hurl. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

With a reluctant sigh Jungkook nods, “I’ll get you there.”

Jungkook helps to guide you. Blocking anyone else from bumping into you. Getting you to the bathrooms. It was just a hallway with a handful of single person bathrooms. Jungkook manages to get you to one that was open at the end. You stumble your way in but don’t go to hurl you just press your back to the cold tiles.

The small bathroom felt claustrophobic under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, illuminating the scribbles on the walls—snippets of humor and frustration from past patrons. You were acutely aware of the ridiculousness of the situation; the tipsy haze that had wrapped around your mind was starting to lift. The cold splash of water had brought you back to a semblance of sobriety, but not enough to chase away the stubborn annoyance that bubbled beneath the surface.

“This is your fault.” You glared at Jungkook but then looked down at your shirt. It actually was drying up pretty good. Probably would be dry by the end of the night.

“Even if I hadn’t done it, you would find a reason to make it my fault.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the bathroom door.

You gave him a begrudging smile, tilting your head in fake gratitude. “Well, thank you for ruining my shirt and my night. You’re a real hero.”

He laughed, a bitter laugh. “Fuck off. You’re the one who had too much and worried everyone. Seems like you were the one to really ruin the night.”

“Oh so suddenly you worry about me now?” You roll your eyes, you know he didn’t

“You know what. I’ll be a bigger man. Yeah, you were drunk and alone and one of my friends was concerned about you. So I was too.” Jungkook leaned away from the door and crossed his arms, sick and tired of having to deal with you this week.

His words stung, and you couldn’t shake the guilt creeping in. You had really worried Ash and Hoseok, and the weight of that realization pressed down on you. “Fine. Well, mission accomplished; you can leave now.”

“No.” Jungkook shrugged.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m going to walk you back to Ash myself. Doing my job as a good friend to make sure you’re okay. Whether you like it or not.” He widened his stance, as if bracing for a push that he knew wouldn’t come.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance. “You don’t even like me, and suddenly you’re so noble. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just here to be a pain.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re so stubborn. It’s like you’re trying to make this difficult.”

You just leave him in an angry silence now as you continue to clean yourself up. Back still pressed against the tile. You stare at the ground instead of Jungkook standing across from you. Your sober mind would give him brownie points for making sure you were okay even though things are so difficult between the two of you. Your tipsy brain was not thinking critically now. Just wanted to fight since you had become so annoyed from seeing him every single day this week.

Jungkook couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same. Seeing you everyday had added a certain level of stress and annoyance to each day. It had been building up to a moment the two of you would blow up in each other's faces like this.

As you tried to move, a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you to lean back against the cool tiles for support. A long breath in, then out, hoping this wasn’t a sign that you might actually be sick. Once the feeling passed, you leaned up again, feeling slightly better.

“Are you okay?” Although a bit forced, he thought he should ask.

“A little dizzy still.” You hold your hands over your eyes and scrunch your face up tight for a moment.

“We really should get you some water.” Jungkook sighed, “One I don’t accidentally spill on you that is.”

“That would be preferable.” You laugh a little, dropping your hands.

“Was that a laugh? Did I manage to get you to laugh?” Jungkook's face fell into dramatic shock. “Oh this needs to be documented.”

“Stop. You are being so loud.” You roll your eyes at his exasperation. “You’ll never get a laugh from me again.”

“As long as it annoys you. I’ll never shut up.” He gives a shit eating grin your directions and you just shake your head.

“What a gentlemen.”

Jungkook chuckled, crossing his arms as he took a step closer to you. "Look at that. Now you’re giving me compliments? What’s next, a thank you?"

The defiant look in his eyes only fueled your frustration. "You’re impossible. You don’t even know when to quit, do you?"

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you." His voice was quiet now, and though he had not intended too he was looking at you a different way now. It actually made you… nervous?

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, hating the way your heart was racing from the proximity.

“I’m good.” His voice was almost playful and daring. Challenging you in a way that made it impossible to look away. For the first time tonight you actually looked him in the eyes. He was also looking into yours, Jungkook was still pretty tipsy although he was doing a much better job at keeping himself together.

“I don’t like you.”

“Wow news of the century.” Jungkook gave you a confused look but he was amused.

“Yet somehow in this universe we managed too… well you know. You were there.” You gestured your arm dramatically pointing to him.

“Did what?” Jungkook played a little innocent now, pushing your buttons.

“I’m not saying it.”

“No I have no idea what we did,” Jungkook mused, “I have a terrible memory after all.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, exasperation coloring your voice.

“What?” His grin widened, almost genuine, as if he enjoyed this.

“We managed to fuck. Are you happy?” The words hung between you like a confession, and you hated how flustered you felt afterward.

“Oh, that’s right.” Jungkook closed the distance even more, invading your space, his playful tone now laced with something deeper. “I had a lapse in my memory.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you despised how your body was reacting to him. “You’re insufferable,” you shot back, struggling to mask the flutter in your stomach with irritation.

“And yet, here I am, still standing in front of you.” Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, teasingly. You could feel the tension thickening in the small bathroom, and it only added to the growing frustration and confusion bubbling inside you.

“Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?” You snapped, but there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “Can’t you just leave me alone for once?”

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If I did that, who is going to help you back?” His words were almost playful, but the weight behind them felt more serious than before.

You gestured between the two of you, your voice rising again. “I think you’re really here to just mess with me.”

“Messing with you is just a bonus,” he countered smoothly. “Because, although you don’t believe it, I’m actually a decent person, I have like a sliver of care for you.”

You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest, but the way he was looking at you, that mix of annoyance and something more, made it hard to keep up your defenses. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty for spilling water on me.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking another step forward, closing the distance even further. “But you’ve had it coming, haven’t you? For all the times you’ve acted like a total brat.”

“Oh please, like you’re any better!” You pushed back, a challenge dancing in your eyes. “You’re an even bigger brat than I am, and you know it.”

“Touche.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the small space, making it hard to stay annoyed. It was a sweet sound, more than you would ever admit out loud.

“And I sometimes think you enjoy fighting me,” you pressed, desperate to maintain the upper hand.

“Full transparency, I don’t.” His tone shifted, just slightly, revealing a flicker of sincerity beneath the teasing.

“Whatever.” you huffed, but you could hear the vulnerability behind his words, and it made you momentarily hesitate.

“It’s true. I have to fight at my job a lot, so I’m not a big fan of it in my personal life.” His admission hung in the air, unexpected and honest. Not something Jungkook ever thought he would say out loud to you of all people.

You paused, considering him for a moment. “I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.” Your heart raced as the realization settled in—there was more to him than the brash exterior he always showed. Which was annoying, because he was becoming human instead of monster in your mind.

“Probably.” He shrugged, but there was a softness in his gaze now that made you want to look away, even as you felt drawn in.

You both laughed to yourselves then, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, the tension easing just enough to breathe. It was a shared moment, lightening the mood even as it carried the weight of everything unspoken between you.

“Another laugh? Wow, big night for me,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Shut up,” you replied, but the smile lingered on your lips, a reluctant acceptance of the warmth blooming in your chest.

“Make me,” he challenged, stepping even closer, invading your space in a way that made you take pause.

The space between you had shrunk, and Jungkook couldn’t remember when that had happened. His heart raced, the alcohol in his system blurring what he usually felt for you with something else entirely. What was worse was that you were also caught up in the same whirlwind of confusion and longing.

The only sound in the room was the muffled music drifting in from outside the door and the uneven rhythm of your breathing, mingling in the charged air around you. This is insane, Jungkook thought, his pulse quickening as he took in the way your eyes glimmered under the harsh bathroom lights.

Your gaze fell to his lips and then shot back to his eyes, so fast it was a fleeting moment, but he noticed. It felt like time had slowed, every heartbeat echoing in the silence between you. Is this really happening? Again? Jungkook couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had shifted, and suddenly, you looked different too—more inviting.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence, desperate to dispel the thoughts swirling in your mind. Focus. It doesn’t matter. Except it did. Jungkook was looking at you with a hunger you recognized, a look that sent shivers down your spine.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with tension.

“Nothing.” He looked away, but the moment felt too heavy, too filled with unsaid words.

As soon as Jungkook averted his gaze, he found himself drawn back to you, the magnetic pull almost irresistible. You both stared at each other for a moment, your hearts racing in tandem, minds swirling with the same thoughts. What the hell are we doing? You knew you weren’t sober enough to think this through, yet a huge part of you was screaming… just do it.

“It’s not a good idea.” You say. The words felt forced, almost painful to admit.

“It’s not,” he agreed too quickly, as if the very notion scared him.

“We shouldn’t.” You stood up straighter, your defenses momentarily flaring.

“No.” Jungkook adjusted himself as well, clearing his throat, trying to regain some composure. “And it could be… a problem.”

“We’ve both been drinking. So we are just confused.” You kept your eyes locked onto his, desperate for him to understand every word you were saying, even as your heart raced in contradiction.

“We aren’t thinking straight.”

You looked down, feeling the urge to reach out and touch him clawing at your resolve. Get a grip, you thought, trying to pull yourself back from the edge.

“You repulse me. It’s not what I want.” You said, shaking your head to ground yourself in reality. Right? This is just the alcohol talking. I don’t really want this.

“I can’t stand you.” Jungkook said. Any other hour day or time this was true, except for right now.

You didn’t move, the silence wrapped around the both of you like a fog. You wanted it, you wanted to kiss him. Every second the two of you stood here the closer you were giving in. You wanted to give in so bad. He really was the serpent, and you were going to take the forbidden fruit he offered.

This didn’t feel the same as last time. Last time it was quick and rash. No thought, just an impulsive decision. Now it was like you were making a decision that was going to change everything.

And yet you couldn’t help it.

“Kiss me.” You look from his eyes to his lips again, lingering longer.

Jungkook paused. Asking himself if he should do this. Except he answered it for himself, and decided to go slow. He tilted his face to meet yours. Almost like he wanted to wait for you to meet him but he knew you wouldn't. You wanted him to chase after you, to come to you. So he didn’t wait a second longer. Pressing his lips to yours.

That cigarette taste completely takes you over again. Not as intense as before, it was almost like a hint. Yet you could care less about it, because it was now familiar. You met him with as much need as he gave you. You needed more so you took it a step forward and begged for more. Each kiss was getting more desperate and somehow your hands managed to find their way into his hair. Jungkooks finding their way onto your hips.

One sober thought slapped you in the face, “What are we doing?” You pulled away from him breathless but you paused just looking at him. Then kissing him again, like you needed it to survive.

“We shouldn’t.” Jungkook just soon after, pulling so slightly away but kissing you again.His whole body betraying him.

One of his hands hiking one of your thighs up around his waist. He pressed his body into yours. You were completely pressed into the wall behind you.

“We… I,” you pull away again, you have to swallow for a second. You take a moment and are looking between his eyes. Somehow they were all shiny and sparkly in this terribly lit bathroom. He was breathing just as hard as you and his heart pounding even louder. He didn’t make any space between the two of you. “I don’t know what I was going to say.”

You both felt extremely sober but drunk on this feeling, on this thrill. Completely clear about what was happening.

“Probably some excuse about how awful I am.” Jungkook kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Your skin was so sensitive and you felt like every time he kissed you, every touch was electric.

“You are.” You were trying to think of any reason to stop, you came up with nothing.

“Yeah well, not awful enough that I can't kiss you.” Jungkook leaves a small bite on the skin of your neck, and you let out a small moan. Your eyes widen as soon as you do it and Jungkook is immediately filled with amusement.

“Don’t say a word.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t feel like talking.” He pulled himself away from your neck and kissed you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He had you wrapped up in him all over again.

You thought the lip piercing would get in your way but it actually went unnoticed. Your hands found their way to either side of his face. If anyone was becoming addicted, it was you. Kissing him was like sipping poison from a decorated chalice, beautiful to view but bitter for the soul. Yet, you couldn’t get enough.

It was painfully clear how turned on Jungkook was getting. With your leg that was wrapped around his waist, you use your leverage to push him into you. The pressure breaks him out of the kiss a bit, moaning himself. You smiled devilishly, his eyes were shut. You pull him closer, you take the chance to kiss down his neck. Sucking a little on each spot. He leaned into your touch. Enjoying each one.

“We-… oh god.” He placed one of his hands on the wall steadying himself. “We should get out of here.”

“Why?” You say and you kiss him again. He pulls away for a second breathing hard again.

“As great as bar bathroom sex is,” he was being sarcastic, “I prefer a bed.”

“Good point.” You pull away for a second. Wiping your mouth. You let the tiles hold you up again. Glancing over to the mirror, whatever lipstick you had on had completely transferred to Jungkook. You look at him and you wipe off any smudges you can see. Jungkook didn’t protest the action. Something almost domestic about it.

Gross, he thought.

You watched his movements. He pushed his hair back, eyes closed for a second. His lack of contact now felt strange. You kept looking at his hands, how delicate his fingers were. You want them inside you. You wanted them on you. You needed him wrapped around you. You shook your head, you needed to get out of here.

What the hell were you doing?

You stepped around Jungkook. Before you could open the door Jungkook spun you around again, back against the door now. His hands on your cheeks. He kissed you again and you welcomed him without issue. Warmth invoked you all over again and it was almost like you could have let your whole body go slack. You couldn’t get enough, and it was clear he couldn’t either. It felt very easy and you didn’t hate it.

“Jungkook.” You break away but he kisses you, you pull back again. “Let’s go.”

“You’re right.” He breaks away from you and he forces himself to take the largest step back he can from you.

You flatten your hair down, then you open the bathroom door and slip out. Luckily no one was in the hall. You assume Jungkook was going to wait a moment before following you so it didn’t appear that the two of you were in there together. There was no way you would be able to leave without saying goodbye to Ash or Hoseok, so you needed to find them first. You couldn’t even hear the music with how loud your heart was pounding in your ears.

After a minute of searching you found them both tucked in a corner looking at their phones. Probably texting you or three seconds away from calling the police. You cringed and approached them.

Ash looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of you. “Jesus christ where have you been?”

“I’m so so sorry.” You hug her and then hug Hoseok. “I got swept away by the people and then I just needed to sit in the bathroom for a while. I was so dizzy.” Not a total lie but still bullshit not the less.

“Text next time okay?” Hoseok gripped your shoulder hard and gave you a small shake. You nod in return.

“I promise. I will. I will never let that happen again. I do think I just need to go home. I’ve had a little too much tonight.” You nod.

“Do you need one of us to come with you?” Ash face twisted in concern but you give her a reassuring smile so she won’t press further.

“No I live so close and I will text you as soon as I get there.” You nod.

It takes a little more convincing but the two of them let you go with some goodbyes. Once you break away from them you try to see if you can spot Jungkook maybe hovering close by or something. You don’t immediately find him but you decide if you leave he will have to come out the same way. You find your way to the exit and make it outside. You realize this meeting up thing would have been easier if you had Jungkook's number, but alas here you were. Just waiting and hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of you.

After a minute of waiting on the street and watching people pass you by, Jungkook emerged from the door.

“So you didn’t run away.” He teased, you roll your eyes. Hugging your arms to protect from the cold.

“Nights not over. Still plenty of time to get away.” Was this all a bad idea?

“So…” he looked around, probably to see if anyone you knew was around. “Mine or yours?”

Jungkook could care less where you went but he just want to go now.

You hadn’t actually considered it. You weren’t sure if you wanted him in your place. You didn’t really bring people back home. You always went to theirs, made it easier to detach and never talk again. Jungkook was different, there was no detachment that could be done so easily here.

“Yours.” You say. Stick to the normal routine.

“Okay.” He didn’t protest.

Jungkook calls a car and it doesn’t take very long to pick you guys up. You both are quiet the whole ride. Jungkook didn’t live terribly far so it made it quick. Too quick, too quick for you to talk yourself out of going. The moment in the bathroom kept replaying in your mind. How you got from point A to B.

It was like one second you two were magnets that were pushing each other apart and then the next you were desperately trying to stay stuck together. When it used to be you would push each other apart.

After too long you arrived. Jungkook let the both of you inside and then you were going up the elevator. Still nothing, you had no idea what he was thinking. No idea if maybe he also was regretting his choice. He didn’t look like he had anything to say to you, which to be fair, he never did. You followed him down a hall a ways and he unlocked his apartment.

Once you had made it inside Jungkook flicked on his lights. It was actually quite spacious. Everything was really clean and he had good taste in decoration. It had a large living room and a separated kitchen. There was a hall that connected off the living room that probably led to his room.

Jungkook tugged off his shoes and you followed, taking off yours.

He stepped inside but you almost stayed glued. The mental roadblock had finally hit. Jungkook noticed and looked back at you.

“Cat got your tongue?” He observed you for a moment, you clenched your fists out of comfort.

“Something like that.” You sigh, you don’t look at him, “Your place is… nice.”

“Then why aren’t you coming in?” He leaned on the wall next to him. “Do I have to invite you in, like a vampire?”

“Haha, very funny.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, “More like I’m talking myself into it.”

“I see. We’ll, doors right there, feel free to run.” He saunters back over to you, pointing to the door behind you. “Can get out now while you still can.”

He came as close as he felt you were comfortable with. There was that feeling all over again, like everything in you was pulling you towards him.

“Not a word to anyone?” You clear your throat.

“Deal.”

With that you pull him into you and you kiss him. One of his hands on the back of your neck and the other on your waist. Both of you walking backwards into the apartment. Each kiss was more and more urgent. Jungkook managed to spin the both of you around and was walking you back to his bedroom. Your hands found their way to get his jacket off and pulling his shirt over his head. He broke away from you to pull it off. Immediately kissing you again once he discarded it. Your hands wrapped around him, his warm skin welcoming the touch of your hands.

You both split again to get you out of your clothes until you were just in your underwear and bra. With your frenzied movements you have somehow made it into his room.

Jungkook pulled away, then got his hands under your thighs and quickly laid you back on his bed. You yelped a little at the sudden movement. Jungkook was immediately on top of you again, placing himself between your legs most of his weight on you, he kissed you again. You felt like you hadn’t had a breath in several minutes.

He paused for a moment though and leaned back a little, he just stared. .

“Let me take this off.” He looked at your bra.

“Okay.” You sat up on your elbows. “Why?”

“I didn’t get to see them last time. I want to see all of you.” He looked down to the rest of you for a moment but then back to your eyes.

“You really are obsessed with me huh?” You were the one desperate to have him closer.

“Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back to not being able to stand you.” He finally gives in and start to suck on your neck, using one of his hands to keep your head in place.

A quiet moan leaves you at the feeling. He had already had you figured out. Where you tick. He didn’t stay there long, he pulled himself away enough to get his hand under you to undo your bra. Pulling it down your arms and throwing it somewhere in the room. You lay back down flat on your back. Jungkook took no time to get his hands on your breasts. Holding them in his hands and massaging them. He leans his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth and continues to massage your other breast. You just watched him, you a little bit into the sight of him being all over you. He swirls his tongue around your nipple. You felt yourself getting wetter. You had moved your hips to find some pressure, you were dying to be touched.

“Jungkook.” It came out sort of whiny and strained. You mentally pounded yourself for how desperate you sounded.

He pulled away from you. He also looked surprised.

“Needy are we?” He had an amused smile, he held all the cards.. “What do you want?”

“Just touch me. Please.” God you were pathetic. This was a new low. You needed it bad though, you want to cum whatever way he wanted you too.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he was very amused by the sight of you begging. He would have loved to see more of it if he didn’t really want to eat you out.

Then Jungkook took the moment to take off his pants. He looked as if he was going to take off his underwear as well but then hesitated.

He hovers above you again, Jungkook thought for a moment. Something that could work you up. Something maybe a little surprising even for himself to admit, “One more honest confession from me. You looked really good tonight.”

“What?” You were stunned, he sounded extremely sincere.

“I have never met someone who gets on my actual last nerve.” He shook his head, “but I wanted to fuck you again so badly, didn’t matter how much you bothered me.”

You didn’t realize words could turn on you on so much, but it was working. Let alone coming from Jungkook,

“What did you think about?” Curiosity was getting the better of you.

“How I really want to eat you out, I wanted to make you cum on my tongue.” He moved back over you, kissing you and breaking away. “Plus I wanted to see your tits and they did not disappoint.”

Jungkook hoping in his mind this was working. He wasn’t out of practice but you really were the only person he had slept with in a while, and the fact that he didn’t know how you worked made him a little nervous. What he didn’t quite understand is that it didn’t take much to work you up.

“What else?” You wanted to close your legs, you needed some relief between your legs but Jungkook wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I could have fucked you in the bathroom, no I would have fucked you in the bathroom. If you had kissed me any longer I would have.” He came very close to your ear. You closed your eyes, just listening to him.

You swallow hard and nod. You wanted to play it much cooler than you had been. “I don’t see why I should care at all about that.” You start to chew on your bottom lip.

“I keeping wondering how many times I could make you cum. How many times I could make you fall apart, with my hands, with my tongue, and my cock.”

Yeah you were getting so high just on his words.

“God please Jungkook,” you had enough though, “Please touch me, please just do something.”

“Thank god.” He also couldn’t take it anymore.

He kissed you but it was so quick because he kissed his way down your neck and then your chest and then your stomach. He started sliding off your underwear and you don’t resist him at all. It was painfully clear how wet you were, Jungkook was tired of not being all over you though. He examines you for a moment and then licks over your clit without much warning. You moan apprehensively. Your words were completely lost.

Jungkook did it again a few more times. He wrapped his hands around your legs keeping them apart. You wanted to squeeze his head between your thigh so badly but you couldn’t budge under his grip. You placed your hands on his head. Jungkook licks your clit in a side to side motion. He had you in the palm of his hand now. He knew it. You were going to come quickly at this rate, he had gotten you so wound up. You grip onto his hair at the sensation, Jungkook then pulls back from to stick his tongue into your pussy. Immediately licking all of the arousal that been coming out of you. He kept moving his tongue in and out of you over and over. So warm and he found his way around you quickly.

“Fuck.” You said it long and dragged out as Jungkook continued fuck you with his tongue. “Don’t stop.”

He hums against you in response, he wasn’t going to give you any second of recovery. He wanted you to cum in his mouth, and he was going to take you to the end. Jungkook let go of his grip on your legs, allowing you close your thighs around him. You were getting close. You were a little impressed and so was he. You were starting to twitch a little with each touch. Moans just kept falling from you pathetically, you just didn’t care. Your hips began moving on his mouth subconsciously. He followed your lead. He loved every second of this.

You managed to get yourself to look down at him to watch what he was doing, to your surprise he was already watching you. Mouth buried between your legs. His eyebrows furrowed, his stare so serious and full of lust. He was eating up every second watching you fall apart.

“Shit.” You lay your head back, “Don’t look at me like that.”

He paused for a second but spitting on your clit and taking his hand there to rub you.

“Why not?” He hummed.

“It’s… confusing.” It was confusing, you still hated him but that look. Your feelings of hate and lust we’re mixing dangerously together,

“You’re just… so hot when you are about to cum.” He replaced his hand with his mouth again. He needed to make you cum.

“Shut up.” You moan, as he presses his tongue flat into your clit, putting pressure on it and licking upwards. Then sticking his tongue back inside you.

You didn’t have time to think. Before you could get anything else out you felt your climax hit you like a truck, you twitch and tried pulling away from Jungkook but he held onto you pumping his tongue in and out of you as your walls tried to clench around his tongue. Your cum spilling into Jungkook's mouth. He kept a tight grip on your thighs and just continued his motions as you rode out your climax.

After a minute you settled. You were breathing heavily and your eyes shut. Jungkook pulled himself away. It was really unfortunate how much he liked how you tasted. Jungkook took one of your hands and pulled you up so you were sitting up. You opened your eyes and looked at him but before anything he kissed you. Sort of tender at first, then his tongue was in your mouth. There was a new taste present, it wasn’t bad at all. It was definitely your cum. It was nice, maybe way too intimate for the two of you but you didn’t mind. He cupped your face in his hand.

“It’s really annoying how good you taste.” He kissed down your neck to your shoulder. They were delicate little kisses. You were trying to come back down. After all it was a pretty good orgasm.

“I would say do that again but I don’t think I’ll stay awake after.” You lean your head to the side, giving him better access. “God this sucks.”

“What did I do now?” He pulls back and looks at you unamused.

“Because you are the most obnoxious person ever but this makes it much harder to hate you.”

“I think it makes it more fun if you hate me.” He kisses you, you slide your tongue into his mouth and sigh comfortably.

You both were getting really impatient though. You really wanted to ride him. You needed to be fucked so you could be done with this so you didn’t have to admit you wanted him to eat you out again and again. Jungkook needed to come soon though, he was so hard in his boxers he was afraid he might explode. He had any number of ways he wanted you but didn’t care what you wanted to do to him.

You pull back from him, “Let me touch you.”

“Don’t say it like that.” he drops his head, resting it on your shoulder.

“Why?” You were having the exact effect you wanted. He lifts his head and looks at you.

“Like you said, it gets… confusing.”

You smirk and you stand up with him for a moment but then you turn him and have him sit on the side of the bed now. He takes off his underwear almost like understanding your thoughts. He was really hard and his tip was all red. He didn’t take his eyes off your hands and just watched you every movement.

You hold his chin in your hand and have him look up at you. He almost looked a little pouty and pathetic, almost cute. He placed his hands onto your hips but let’s you take the lead. You then take both of your legs and you straddle his lap, his dick sitting between the both of you. He took in a deep breath from the contact.

“I guess I could just leave.” You tease, you kiss one side of his neck. “I got what I needed. Could just leave you to yourself. Since it’s so confusing for the both of us.” You tease.

Jungkook had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. In almost painful desperation. “Don’t.” His hands moved to your ass, hanging on to you now. “Seriously, please touch me. I won’t last much longer.”

“What would you like?” You hold yourself away from him so you can see his face clearly.

“Sit on me.” He chased your lips and kissed you again.

You continue to kiss him but you sit up on your knees. Reaching between the both of you to grab his dick. You stroke him a few times. He groans into your mouth from the contact, his tip was leaking precum. You stop for a second.

“Do you have a condom?”

Jungkook nodded, he reached over to a drawer next to his bed and pulled one out. You take it from him, unwrapped it. Using both of your hands and slowly roll it over his length, squeezing him on the way down.

“Fuck.” His head falls back. He squeezed your ass in one of his hands.

You then lift yourself up again and line him up with your entrance. You knew you were going to be pretty sensitive so you just sink down just onto his tip. You were a bit overstimulated so you hiss, but you kept going sliding yourself down his length. Jungkook was letting small moans fall from his mouth. Then you fully sit down on him, filling you completely up. You moan a little yourself at the feeling. Jungkook was in complete ecstasy. You lift yourself up and sink back down onto him again. You both moan into each other.

“Lay back.” You whisper in his ear, “It’ll be easier.”

Jungkooks complys, you push him down with one of your hands. This way you are able to get your knees on the bed a little better, and it allows you to get more leverage. So you push yourself up and down in a quicker motion now. You keep your hands on his chest. With each move of your hips you begin to build a rhythm, your clit grazing his pelvic bone every time you fully sink down onto him.

“God I hate how good this feels.” You groan but out of pleasure. You mouth falling open.

He’s smirking below you, breathing heavily. Barely keeping his eyes open. Feeling every little movement you made. Why did it have to feel with you of all people? Let alone really good. You full sit down on him for a moment taking a second to breath, his cock buried all the way inside you. You grind your hips on him, you were trying to find your high again.

“Shit. Don’t stop.” Jungkook pleaded, he looked down to where his cock was inside you. Loving the way your bodies were connected.

“Oh yeah?” Lifting yourself up and sank back down onto him again and grinding on him again.

“God I fucking hate how good you look right now.” He sounded so annoyed but it was getting you hot.

“Stop.” You sigh, you pause for a second. Your knees needing a second to recover.

“What?” He eyes you for a moment.

“Stop talking.” You breath for a second, you were going to come soon. You could feel it, your wall were throbbing and you were breathing so heavily. You didn’t want him to be able to get you off so easily.

Jungkook on the other hand seemed somewhat concerned, worried you may be in pain. “Is something wrong?” He sat up to meet your face.

“Nope.” You almost cut him off holding a hand up to him, “I’m just really close.”

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh and it caused his pelvis to shift under you and you moan softly.

“Oh I see,” Jungkook reached his hands around to your ass. Hanging on to your hips for a moment. Forcing you up and down on him and a pathetic whine falls from you. “You want to cum again huh?” His voice was quiet and deep.

“No.” The word came out weak, It was a sad protest, very clearly a lie.

“Getting yourself all wrapped around my dick making you want to cum?” He kisses your jaw, you had yours eyes screwed shut. You managed to look at him through your tired hooded eyes.

“Yes.” You give in. Jungkook forced your hips up and down on him again and another whine falls from your mouth.

“What can I do?” Jungkook sighs.

“Keep talking to me, and I’ll keep fucking you.” You try to feel yourself back in, shutting your eyes again. You did not want to see his face.

“You got it.”

You go back slowly working up to the pace you were at before. Every once and a while sinking all the way down and grinding your hips on him. Jungkook breathing heavily, steadies his mind for a second.

“You’re doing so good for me. Fucking my cock like this. God you look so sexy like that.” His hands were running up and down your back. “Hating me comes with some perks right?”

“Fuck off.” You moan, you kept riding him though. Oh it was working, your high was building. You weren’t sure how long Jungkook had left in him.

“If I had known a truce could lead to this I would have offered one sooner.” He forces you down onto himself for a moment and you gasp. “Cause now I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to see you suck me off and come in your mouth.”

Jungkook would never get to see it but he was definitely thinking about it now. So were you, what it would be like to suck him until he came? Making him wriggle above you, forcing your mouth all the way onto him.

“I’m gonna-…” you stutter, you keep your pace but you feel it coming.

“Cum?” Jungkook fills in the blank, “Cum for me, brat.” He took the small moment to tease you.

“God shut up.” You go a little faster and before you can get anything else out, you’re cumming all over again. And Jungkook stopped you, forcing all the way down on his cock. You bite into his shoulder. Completely losing yourself. Your walls were fighting against being filled up by him. Squeezing him over and over. This one was a little quicker than the one earlier. You could feel some of your cum leaking down into his lap.

You try to move again but it’s so sensitive you stop again.

“Just give me a second.” You breathe, placing both your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Jungkook had no issue waiting.

“No worries, you’re a pretty good cock warmer anyways.” He jokes, you push him back down into the bed away from you. You just sit for a second.

“God you’re annoying.” You push past the sensitivity and start riding Jungkook again. Going as quick as you can. You needed him to cum now.

Jungkook let you. He let you fuck him. He was completely taken by the feeling. He was actually much closer than you thought because before long he pushed his hips up into you. You keep fucking him, pumping his dick for everything he has, you can feel him fill up the condom in you. Once he seems to be coming down you come to a slow stop.

You both were spent.

You got yourself off of him. Sitting on the bed next to him for a second. Just breathing, your legs were shaking from the fatigue of the position you were in. You had to force yourself up though, Jungkook had his bathroom connected to his room. So you darted for it. Not saying a word, locking yourself inside. Jungkook watched you go for a moment but then got himself up to clean himself up.

You take care of what you need too. You didn’t hear Jungkook moving around outside of the bathroom at all. You open the door sort of wishing you had brought your clothes in with you so you could redress. You step out of the bathroom and Jungkook was putting a new pair of boxers on. Then grabbing a shirt and putting it on, he then crashed out onto his bed. You understood the feeling. You tip toed in into the room putting your underwear on.

You had slept with Jungkook again…

You found your shirt and threw it on. Turning around and seeing Jungkook on the bed. He noticed you starting to redress yourself and managed to grab his phone looking at the time. It would have been way too late for you to get a ride home.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“What does it look like? I’m leaving.” You walk around and manage to find more of your things. Grabbing your pants with the intention to put them on but getting stopped.

“Why? It’s going to be too late to get a ride.”

“Because this was just a hookup and I should go home.” You point between the two of you. You pull your phone out to see the time. God it was so late.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s like 2 am, just… stay.” He waves his hand to the spot next to him.

You hesitate at the offer. “No no no,” you almost laugh. “That’s not… no.”

“Y/N…” he looks at you seriously, very tired, but serious. “Stay.”

For a brief moment you thought about protesting. About fighting him on it but the more you stood the more your exhaustion was hitting you. The bed was tempting and it would be easier just to stay.

So, you lay yourself down. Jungkook then pulls the covers over you. Moving and making as much space in the bed he can for you. You stayed glued to your side with your back to him, and his back turned to you as well. It didn’t take much for either of you to pass out soon after.

Just for tonight.

You woke up to sunlight hitting your face—a surprising sensation since your room never caught the morning sun. Disoriented, you blinked against the brightness, and the events of last night came rushing back, crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your eyes shot open, heart pounding as you glanced around the unfamiliar room. Panic set in, and you bolted upright.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, feeling the dread seep into your bones. You looked to a still sleeping Jungkook beside you; the bed was a mess of tangled sheets. You threw the covers off discreetly and quickly realized that, yes, you were right—you hadn’t put your pants back on. The sight of your bare legs only confirmed the mess you’d gotten yourself into.

“No, no, no...” You buried your face into your hands. Not again. You wanted to blame it on drinking, but you were sober enough to make this decision and so was he.

Your head throbbed, partly from the brewing headache and partly from the sheer disbelief at your own actions. Jungkook began to stir next to you with a groan. He flipped over so he was facing you. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and looked at you and closed them again.

But then Jungkook took a moment to realize, yes you were in fact in his bed, so his eyes shot open and he pushed himself up with horror written on his face.

“Awe crap...”

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

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。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

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endless-ineffabilities · 9 months ago

Text

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country.

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it.

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever.

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store.

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out.

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead.

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t.

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen.

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach.

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention.

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is.

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena.

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media.

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you.

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they’re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down.

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter.

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow.

Just constant dizzying electricity.

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that.

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.”

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve.

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather.

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine.

Not that it matters.

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it.

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place.

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts.

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it.

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine.

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend.

Until Aemond.

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly.

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art.

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face.

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets.

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register.

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space.

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness.

Twelve fucking fifteen.

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that.

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves.

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through.

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you.

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know.

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too.

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this?

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him.

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse.

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up.

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond.

It can wait, whatever it is.

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one.

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend.

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s.

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper.

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area.

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond.

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others.

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion.

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it.

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know.

This is not going to end well.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before.

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too.

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that.

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant.

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants.

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond.

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes.

You feel it all at once.

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight.

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned.

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good.

As long as you think of Art… As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck.

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument.

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it.

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on.

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again…

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling…

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real.

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ”

“No.”

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse.

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal.

Beautiful. And just not yours.

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings.

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking.

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him.

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything.

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his.

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth.

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge.

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine.

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants.

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock.

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time.

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet.

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open.

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.”

You have him. He has you.

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck - ” you moan, words breathy and irregular.

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters.

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?”

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin.

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready.

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch.

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill.

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly.

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see.

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea.

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder.

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly.

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds.

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets.

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.”

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum.

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his.

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts.

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning.

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again.

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind.

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you.

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you.

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does.

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment.

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing.

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything.

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time.

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match.

But Aemond can. He knows this now.

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail.

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing.

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games.

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips.

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone.

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels.

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you.

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours.

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels.

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more.

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

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