#when she has the humour of a 5 year old >>> | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nothoughtsjustfic · 4 months ago

Text

Precious - L.JH

🦆Who: Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x female reader 🦆What: Angst. Fluff. Nursery school teacher Jihoon. Single parent reader. 🦆Word count: 11.8k 🦆Warnings: Big ol’ misunderstanding, which technically, is intentional but not designed this way. That’ll make sense when you read. Junhui is reader’s best friend and a menace but also the best friend a person could want. Reader has a 4/5-year-old daughter. One-sided pining that isn’t one sided at all, they’re both just kind of stupid and bad at communicating at first. They learn though, don’t worry. 🦆Summary: “Your daughter absolutely adores her nursery school teacher, Mr Lee, and it doesn’t take you long to understand why.”

Masterlist Read the sequel Thinking about: Nursery school teacher L.JH.

A/N- this was originally supposed to be a little under 3k fluff piece about reader’s daughter adoring her nursery teacher and reader quickly understanding why. But I got ever so slightly carried away :))

If you want to know more about a certain nanny featured in this, you can check out the connected story, Thinking about: Nanny K.MG.

It starts with a meltdown.

You’ve only been home twenty minutes and have barely started the prep for dinner when your daughter runs into the kitchen with tears streaming down her chubby, little cheeks and wails of despair falling from her wobbling lips.

“Oh, baby girl, what is it?” You immediately abandon the rice you’ve been rinsing, to wipe your hands on your work trousers, so that they’re mostly dry when you pluck up your distressed child to hold tight and soothe.

It takes almost ten minutes of rocking and murmuring calming words and sounds before your daughter can blubber out an explanation.

“Bubba lost!” She explains, and although it means nothing to pretty much anyone else, you know. Bubba is her comfort plushie, even if it is perhaps the ugliest looking duck plushie you’ve ever seen.

When your best friend had given it to you when you were pregnant with your daughter five years ago, it had really been a joke. But your strange little angel of a child seems to share her pseudo uncle’s sense of humour; the moment she found the duck shoved in your wardrobe at two-years-old, it was love at first sight. Maybe it’s your own fault for naming her after him.

“Oh, Juni,” you coo before pressing a kiss to each splotchy, tear-sticky cheek. “Bubba’s not in your bag?” You ask as you carry her through to the living room, where her school backpack is on the floor with the usual contents tipped out around it from her frantic search for the plushie for her usual post-nursery, unwind snuggle time.

“Lost!” She wails, a fresh set of tears starting up, so you return to bouncing her slightly as you start wandering around the apartment in search of the toy. Though, you know that she takes it to nursery every single day for the post-lunch nap, and you hadn’t received a call from the school about a tearful, tired daughter, so she clearly had it with her at school today.

Once you’ve confirmed that Bubba is not in the apartment, you go back to the kitchen and grab your phone.

“Okay, baby, I need you to calm down so that I can call your school and ask if Bubba is in the classroom, okay?” You say, and it’s something like a miracle how quickly Juni stops making loud noises, even if she’s still sniffling and crying. “Thank you.” You kiss her head then press the dial button beside the school’s number.

Honestly, you aren’t sure anyone will answer; most of the staff, if not all, will surely have already left the building by this point. But to your relief, the ringing cuts off and a friendly voice answers the call, greeting with the school’s name and asking how he can help you.

“Oh, hello, I’m calling to ask if someone could check my daughter’s classroom to see if she left her duck plushie behind?” You wonder politely, while mentally pleading this man to be as kind as he sounds.

“Ah, of course, of course, which class?”

“Little Lambs,” you answer with the cute name of your daughter’s class.

You’re pretty sure that every class in the whole school is named after an animal, though you do know the other two classes for the youngest children are named cutely too: Darling Ducklings for the younger class and Cutie Cubs for the older class.

Juni had been so upset to have missed the chance to be called a Duckling, but you had been working remotely until this school year and hadn’t wanted to be apart from her so soon. At least she’s excited to be in the tiger themed classroom next year, even if she keeps asking if Mr Lee can still be her teacher instead of Mr Kwon.

Not because she dislikes Mr Kwon; she’s said he’s fun and nice, but she adores Mr Lee and talks about him at the most random times. She’s even asked if he can attend her birthday party and you had to deal with a tantrum when you told her that no, her teacher cannot attend a birthday party for a five-year-old. She still asks though.

“Oh! That’s right next to mine! I was just heading that way to see if Mr Lee is heading home yet, so if you just hold on a sec, I’ll go talk to him and we can look.”

“Thank you so much,” you breathe out in relief.

“Of course! Uhh, I don’t know how to put the call on hold so uhm, just wait?”

You laugh softly. “That’s fine, thank you.”

“Okay, great, be right back!” The phone clatters gently as it’s placed down before you hear the man running away. You find the irony of a teacher running through the school halls amusing; he no doubts spends a good chunk of his day telling the children to walk nicely down the halls.

“B-Bubba?” Juni questions, looking at you with big, red rimmed eyes.

“The teacher is going to ask Mr Lee.”

In an instant, Juni lights up at the mention of her third favourite human, behind only you and your best friend. “Mr Lee!”

It prompts her to start babbling on about her day with the man as if she hadn’t already told you everything on the drive home, but you don’t mind hearing it again. You love seeing her so animated and happy, even with tear stains on her cheeks.

The phone is still held near your ear so when a different voice greets you five minutes later, you’re ready. “Is this Juni’s mother?”

“It is,” you confirm.

“Oh, good. Hi, it’s Mr Lee, Juni’s teacher. I found Bubba amongst the class plushies, so I assume he got put there accidentally. I’m leaving to head home now, so I can drop him off on the way.”

“Oh, you don’t have to; I can come back, it’s not a long drive. I don’t want to bother you, Mr Lee.” Juni squeaks excitedly at the mention of her teacher, making you hold back a fond, little laugh so that the man doesn’t hear it.

“It’s no bother, I know how important Bubba is to her and that you’ve been at work all day yourself. I think it’s on my way anyway, you live near the park with the elephant slide, right? Juni mentions it a lot.”

“Ah, yeah, her uncle takes her there all the time.”

Mr Lee chuckles softly. “Yeah, she says. She really loves him a lot; talks about nothing but him, and you, of course.”

“Funny, she talks about nothing but you at home.”

There’s a moment of silence and you start to wonder if you should’ve kept that to yourself but then his soft, disbelieving voice comes back before you can backtrack and try to apologise for overstepping. “Really? She talks about me?”

“Yeah, she adores you.”

“Oh,” he says on a puff of an awed exhale. “That’s…I didn’t realise any of my students like me that much. That’s really…it means a lot to me to hear, thank you for telling me. I’ll be by in about twenty minutes with Bubba, if that’s okay?”

“Are you sure it’s not too much for you?”

“No, no, not at all. Really. I’m more than happy to do this, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“Ah, okay, thank you, Mr Lee, we really appreciate your kindness.”

“You’re both welcome. I’ll see you soon.” The call ends and you lock your phone to place it back on the counter.

“Bubba?” Juni asks.

For a moment, you debate not telling her exactly what is happening because you know how she’ll react, but you also don’t like to hide things from you daughter unless entirely necessary.

So, you take a breath and put her down on the floor before answering. “Mr Lee is bringing him.”

As expected, Juni starts to yell and jump excitedly. You chuckle fondly and get back to preparing dinner, while hoping that she will calm soon enough.

Almost half an hour after ending the call, the doorbell rings and you practically have to tackle your daughter on the couch, so that she doesn’t run off to answer the door.

Usually, she never tries to answer the front door, or even touch it, though you still keep it locked with the chain across just in case; but she’s been bouncing and excitedly prattling on about Mr Lee visiting for half an hour now, so you’re not sure she’ll remember the safety rule.

“Okay, be calm. Remember, he’s just bringing Bubba,” you remind your daughter as you get up and walk to the door with her. Juni nods emphatically in understanding, though you’re not convinced she’s absorbed your words any of the times you’ve said them because she has already said multiple times that she’s going to show Mr Lee her favourite toys.

After peering through the spy hole and finding who you can only assume is Mr Lee when he’s bundled up so well with his scarf wrapped around the bottom of his face as his dark hair half obscuring his eyes as it sticks out from under his beanie, you unlock the door and open it.

“Mr Lee!” Juni shrieks as soon as the door is open enough to see the man in the hall. You notice his eyes curve, chill pinkened cheeks bunching up under his scarf before he pulls it down to tuck thickly under his chin so he can smile at your daughter.

“Hi, Nini, I brought you someone,” he greets, surprising you with the nickname you were unaware anyone, other than you, calls her, but you don’t mind. It somehow sounds even cuter from the man. He crouches down as he pulls his messenger bag around to his front and you spot Bubba’s head sticking out of one side.

“Bubba!” Juni gasps and bounces forward to pat the duck’s scruffy yet soft fur.

“We had a nice walk, and he had fun seeing all the sights on the way, but I think he’s more than ready to be back with you now,” Mr Lee says as he unzips his bag to gently pull out the duck to offer. Juni immediately takes it to hug tight and bury her face in its pale yellow and splotchy grey body.

“What do you say, Juni?” You prompt, tapping Juni’s head gently.

“Thank you, Mr Lee!” Juni all but yells, then launches herself forward to hug the man. Clearly, he’s already used to her abrupt and intense affection as he doesn’t falter in catching her and hugging her back.

The sight of this sweet man with his cute, pink tipped nose and cheeks embracing your daughter and looking genuinely happy to be here and accepting her enthusiastic love, makes your heart flutter.

The only man who has ever shown your daughter love is your best friend, but that’s entirely different; you and Junhui fooled around once as teens and decided it was gross and swore to never touch one another like that again.

Just as you manage to get your heart under control, by reminding yourself that this is your daughter’s teacher; someone who you can’t get involved with even if you wanted to, he looks at you and you’re pelted with the full force of his precious smile. Your stomach somersaults and your heart takes up breakdancing, or at least it feels like it by how it suddenly erratically thumps against your ribs.

“Thank you,” you say, forcing yourself to be normal, even if your voice comes out soft and a little breathy.

Something in Mr Lee’s expression changes, the smile lessens a little but not in an unhappy way, more like a thought is running through his mind as his head tilts ever so slightly. It takes him a second too long to respond. “You’re welcome.”

“Mr Lee, see my toys!” Juni encourages, grappling for the man’s glove clad hand as she backs towards the open door, trying to tug him, but she’s only a tiny four-year-old and he’s a grown adult; he doesn’t even wobble in his crouched form.

“Ah, baby, remember, Mr Lee is on his way home; he only came to drop off Bubba. He can’t come in and see your toys,” you explain.

Juni immediately pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. “Peas, mama?”

“Please,” you correct gently. She pouts harder.

“How about we have a show and tell soon?” Mr Lee suggests, drawing your daughter’s attention back to him.

“What that?”

“Show and tell is where you bring something in to show the class. You can bring in your favourite toy and show the whole class, so long as your parents let you bring it, of course. You can only bring in something mama says is allowed to come to school, okay, Nini?”

“I bring Hector!”

“No!” You argue quickly, earning another pout from your troublesomely cute daughter. “Hector cannot go to school with you, Juni, that is a firm no.”

“But Hector best toy.”

“Hector is twice the size of you,” you remind.

“Now I’m curious about Hector, I won’t lie,” Mr Lee admits with a little chuckle.

“See Hector!” Juni enthuses, once again tugging the man.

“Juni,” you sigh. “Mr Lee needs to go home.”

“Well, I can spare five minutes to meet Hector, if that’s okay?” He replies, looking at you from where he’s still crouched with one hand in Juni’s and actually holding her instead of just letting her hold onto his much larger hand. Surprisingly, there’s a hint of pleading in his slightly rounded eyes and you’re too stunned by this man actively wanting to indulge your daughter that you just nod dumbly.

“Yay!” Juni squeals and scrambles to walk backward while tugging Mr Lee, who gets up now and lets her. He has to stop though when although Juni can fit past your body, the gap isn’t enough for him.

There’s a moment where you’re face to face and so close that you can feel the chill of the winter still clinging to his clothes, and you just hold eye contact with one another silently as a sudden tension fills the little gap between you.

It’s Juni that breaks the moment, even if she doesn’t realise. “Scusey, mama!” She nudges your leg, prompting you to blink back to reality and step aside to allow the man into the apartment. “Thank you!”

Mr Lee only stops when he realises that he’s wearing winter boots, which are a pain to undo. “Oh, uh, my shoes are a lot to get off,” he admits sheepishly. “I forgot I’m wearing these and not my work shoes, sorry, Nini, can you bring Hector out here, by any chance?”

You eye his boots as you lean against the front door and hear it click to a complete close under your weight.

“Otay, wait here!” Juni agrees and lets go of Mr Lee to scramble off to her bedroom.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, just loud enough for the man and not your daughter to hear.

He turns to look at you, blinking innocently from behind the strands of dark hair in front of his eyes. “Huh?”

“Indulge her; you must have to get home.”

He shrugs. “I’m in no rush. As I said on the phone; I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” He reaches up to try and move his hair out of his face, but between his beanie trapping it and his thick gloves making it hard for him to accurately touch his hair as he can’t really feel it, he just uselessly swipes over his face a few times. It’s oddly endearing.

“Do you want some help?” You offer, pushing off the door and motioning to his hair loosely without trying to get any closer.

“It’s okay-”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” you repeat his own words back at him.

He stares at you dumbly for a second, pink lips parted in surprise before they curl up at one edge as he laughs softly. “Touche. I uh, I’d appreciate the help, I don’t want to take my gloves off because they’re tucked in past my wrists and it’s a pain to tuck them without removing my coat.”

“Past your wrists?” You wonder as you move closer and lift your hands to carefully move the strands of his hair from out of his face, baring his eyes directly to you from only a few feet away. “Where did you get those? That sounds useful.”

“Oh, uhm, I got them abroad. My friend got married at a ski resort for some reason despite not knowing how to ski nor having ever been to a ski resort in his life, but yeah…I bought them in the town there.”

“Bet it was beautiful though.”

“Mm, yeah. Could’ve done without having to wear a suit in the snow for the sake of photos. They had to photoshop the pink from my face; it was very cold.”

You giggle at the thought of Mr Lee standing pink faced in a suit amongst beautiful, snowy mountains and part of you wants to see the original photos, but you know that would be weird to ask.

So instead, you simply finish tucking his hair neatly into his beanie to keep it in place without entirely exposing his forehead and temples to the cold. You’re entirely unaware of the way he’s staring at you in awe; blown away by how precious your giggle is and wondering if he can make you do it again.

“There,” you say when you’re done. “You can see clearly again, Mr Lee.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs as you lower your hands and step back while smiling at him. “You can call me Jihoon when it’s just us,” he blurts in offer.

You almost ask him if he plans to create situations where it’s just the two of you but the familiar sound of Hector’s wheels rolling on the laminate draws both of your attention away from one another and in the direction of Juni’s bedroom. Which is a good thing too, because you’re pretty sure your retort would’ve been an inappropriate flirtation.

“That’s Hector?” Jihoon mutters with wide eyes on the half mechanical, half plush creature on wheels.

To the best of your abilities, all you can describe it as is cyborg Godzilla in need of a better plastic surgeon because it truly is a monstrosity. Once again, it’s something that Junhui gifted to your daughter, and she loves wholeheartedly.

“My best friend is a menace, and he passed it on to her,” you deadpan and count it as a win when Jihoon snorts a laugh in response.

“Like Hector, Mr Lee?” Juni asks once she’s just about managed to stop the remote-controlled lizard creature before it collides with the man.

“He’s very impressive,” Jihoon replies diplomatically and now you’re the one barely catching a laugh in time and instead letting out an almost snort at his answer. He side-eyes you amusedly and presses his lips together to fight his laugh, as evident by the upturned corners of his mouth and crinkles next to his eyes before he looks back at Juni. “But your mama is right; Hector should definitely stay at home.”

“Otay, I shown tell ‘nother toy,” Juni declares simply.

“Show and tell,” Jihoon corrects gently before you get the chance. Juni just nods as if that’s exactly what she had said, making the pair of you smile fondly at her little figure focused on the large remote in her tiny hands to try and turn Hector around. “Hey, can I have a turn?” He requests.

Juni’s head jerks up to look at her teacher before nodding enthusiastically and bouncing over to offer the control while pointing out the joystick and buttons to tell him how to use it.

For a few minutes, you watch as Jihoon squats down in the entrance hall with Juni standing between his knees and her back to his chest in the circle of his arms as they both watch Hector roam around under Jihoon’s direction.

“Roar! Do the roar!” Juni says, in the exact same voice Junhui does to quote the little boy in the fourth Shrek movie.

Jihoon doesn’t manage to catch his laugh in time, and it comes out in a sudden bark before he manages to press his lips together, turning his laughter into strange, sputtered “pffts” that make you laugh silently.

Juni looks over her left shoulder at her teacher with the dirtiest side-eye you have ever seen, and you can’t help it; you burst into laughter, which sets Jihoon off laughing, making him turn his head so he’s not laughing in the child’s face. Now you’re also getting the side-eye from your four-year-old, but you’re doubled over with your hands on your knees and don’t even notice.

It takes the pair of you over a minute to stop laughing, though one look at the other’s laughter-teary eyes sets you both off again. Juni huffs in impatience and takes the controller from her teacher to press the button that makes Hector roar, while you and Jihoon continue to laugh away together.

The trill of your alarm going off in the kitchen is the only reason you manage to collect yourself. “Oh,” you sniffle, wiping under your eyes as you straighten up, a few giggles still slipping past.

“Dinner!” Juni exclaims eagerly and turns to look at Jihoon. “Dinner time, Mr Lee!”

“Ah, I suppose it is. You eat well, okay, and I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he says as he gets up, wiping the wet marks from his own cheeks.

Juni frowns at him. “Stay dinner.”

“I can’t, that’s your family time. I’ll eat lunch with you tomorrow instead, okay?”

“Pomise?” She asks, lifting her hand, and almost dropping the controller in the process, so she holds it close to her chest, to extend her adorable, little pinkie finger to the man.

“I promise,” he agrees, linking his glove clad pinkie with her tiny one. It’s a precious sight, but not as precious as how your daughter glows with joy then hugs the man before rushing to the kitchen to turn the alarm off, yelling goodbye as she goes.

“I hope you’re a man of honour, Jihoon,” you comment as Jihoon turns to the front door while you open it.

He pauses mid step for a split second before exiting the apartment and turning to look at you with a shy smile. “I am. I’ve never gone back on a promise.”

“Ah, good; I’d hate to have to think badly on you for breaking my daughter’s trust and heart.”

“I won’t ever intentionally hurt her, I promise,” his words are entirely sincere, and you find yourself unable to doubt him, yet you still extend your pinkie to him without breaking eye contact. Jihoon glances at your offered hand and smiles a little before lifting his hand to link his pinkie around yours without hesitation as his gaze returns to your own. “She’s safe with me.”

“I know,” you assure and slowly unhook your pinkie, so he copies, and you both take your hands back.

“Mama!” Juni yells impatiently from the kitchen.

“Is she this loud at school?” You wonder amusedly.

“She’s certainly easy to hear, I can say that much,” Jihoon replies with a chuckle and starts adjusting his scarf to pull over his chin yet keeps his mouth free to talk. “Enjoy your dinner, I’ll uh, see you at drop off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you then. Have a safe journey home, Jihoon.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a smile and wavers, swaying in place before pulling his scarf up to cover his mouth, waving goodbye then walks down the hallway.

You wait until he’s out of sight before shutting and locking the door.

Even though Juni is once again calling you from the kitchen, you take a moment to will your fluttering heart to calm before going to join your daughter and hope that you’re not developing a crush on her teacher.

As it turns out; your hoping was in vain.

After that evening, every time you see Jihoon at drop off and pick up for the following two months, he smiles at you and wanders over if he’s not busy with another student or parent, to make small talk in the morning and tell you about Juni’s achievements and quirks of the day in the afternoon.

It’s the most you’ve ever conversed with the man in the handful of months he’s been Juni’s teacher, and as much as you truly love the attention that you’ve noticed he doesn’t go out of his way to other parents, you’ve also noticed something else. The silver band on his ring finger.

Once you notice the wedding ring, you try to not engage in conversation as much. You even send Junhui on pick-ups when you know your hormones are too excitable to remember that you can’t enjoy the attention of the man.

Though there’s only so much you can do when Jihoon approaches you one morning looking more awake than usual, with his eyes sparkling in the early spring sun and excitement stretching his smile wide on his pretty face.

He calls your name in a way that makes other parents look between you suspiciously, yet the man doesn’t notice. “Guess what!”

“Uhm, what?” You ask, awkwardly shuffling your weight from foot to foot and hoping he calms a little, as much as you love seeing him so animated, because it’s drawing attention. More attention than usual due to his clear favouritism towards you and your daughter every morning and afternoon.

“Are you okay?” He suddenly frowns in concern, noticing the way you’re trying to make yourself a little smaller as if that will stop the parents eyeing you. “Are you ill?”

“No, just…I should really get to work.”

“Oh, uhm, okay. Sorry, I probably keep you a lot, huh?” He reaches out towards Juni’s backpack in your hold, your daughter off somewhere with her friends on the playground until morning bell rings to tell them they must go into the class to get ready. “I won’t keep you; I can take Juni in so you can get to work on time.”

“Oh, right, yeah, thanks.” You hand over the bag then step back and look around for your daughter.

You hear her before you see her; squealing happily as she runs around with a little boy you can never remember the name of; you just know that his nanny always brings him to school and picks him up. Even if the nanny looks at him so adoringly you thought for the longest time that he’s the boy’s father, not full-time babysitter.

The pair are running circles around the tall man, who is moving his gaze between the two to watch over them, and the collection of mothers hovering and trying to flirt with him. It’s not an unusual sight at all, even when you know some of the women are married, but at least the nanny never seems to be interested and only replies politely.

“I’ll go say goodbye,” you say, motioning over to your daughter while looking back at Jihoon.

“Of course, I’ll see you at pick up.”

“Oh, uh, I think Junhui is picking her up today. Park trip,” you say, even though you’re very certain Junhui planned to get home on time to conveniently meet his cute neighbour in the car park and hit on her, and maybe even finally ask her on a date. But you know he’ll drop any plan for the sake of your daughter, though you make a mental note to pick up his favourite takeout on your way home from work tonight.

“Ah, I see. Well, have a nice weekend and I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“Yep, see you then,” you agree, then turn and approach your daughter. “Juni!” She immediately comes to a stop and looks at you, but the little boy doesn’t stop in time and collides with her, sending them both to the floor. “Oh, shit,” you whisper and rush over to kneel beside the nanny, who is already cooing over the pair and checking them over.

“We otay!” Juni assures and the little boy looks at her with tears in his eyes and a wobbling lip but noticing her smile, he sniffles, wipes his eyes then grins himself, making you and his nanny chuckle.

“We otay,” he agrees.

“Well, I’m glad you’re both otay,” the nanny says as you both help the children to their feet.

“Mama, can DanDan come my party?” Juni asks, looking at you with her trademark puppy dog eyes.

“Sunday is a bit close notice to ask someone to your party, most parents want more notice,” you point out softly. “I’d have to call his parents, and I don’t have their number.”

“You can take mine,” the nanny offers, drawing your attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a few of the mothers behind him baulk and you assume he’s avoided giving his number to any of them. You feel a little ping of pride in your chest at effortlessly getting the attractive man’s number, even if you truly don’t want it for the reasons they do.

“If you text me the details, I can talk to Danil’s mother about it and pass on your number when she gets home from work. Then she can call you herself. I don’t feel right giving her number to you without her consent.”

“No, no, that’s completely understandable. I’d really appreciate that,” you assure, taking your phone from your pocket to unlock and open a new contact. You hand him the device, so that he can input his details himself and not risk the too-nosey mothers overhearing the digits.

“Where bag, mama?” Juni asks, noticing the lack of her backpack in your grasp.

“Mr Lee took it, I’ve got to get to work now so he’s taking over from me,” you reply.

“Oh, otay. See you later.” She moves over to hug you tight and kiss your cheek noisily, which you return theatrically, making her giggle happily.

“Uncle Jun is going to pick you up today, Nini, okay?”

“Jun-Jun time!” She shrieks happily and starts bouncing around Danil, who watches her with giggles tumbling from his lips. “DanDan come park too?!”

“That’s really not my decision, baby,” you remind as you accept your phone back and notice that the man has saved his number as ‘Danil’s nanny’. You look at him funnily.

“Hm?” He wonders, noticing your expression.

“You didn’t put your name.”

“Oh, well, I just thought that would make more sense, because you only want my number because I’m Danil’s nanny.”

“Well, yeah but it’s a big derogatory, is it not? Just referring to you as nothing more than his nanny; you’re your own person, you know?”

“I know,” he chuckles and smiles at you softly. “I’m Mingyu, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked before; you’re one of the only mothers who’s never approached me.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you draw a certain kind of attention,” you scoff amusedly and side-eye the lingering mothers, who abruptly look away and fail at playing innocent. Mingyu glances over and giggles quietly as he turns back around. “They don’t much like me. I’ve told them all off for various things; mostly trying to chat up my best friend when he picks up Juni and making him uncomfortable.”

“Best friend? Not partner?”

“Ew, gross!” You fake a gag that makes him laugh.

Suddenly, you realise you’re both still kneeling on the rubber tarmac, even if the kids are running off again, so you get to your feet, brushing off your knees as you go and Mingyu copies, extending to his full height and towering over you.

“Anyway, I’ll text you the details when I get the chance.”

“Mm, okay, I look forward to hearing from you. Between you and me, Danil’s never been invited to a party or anything before. Juni is really his only friend, he sings her praises, seriously, so I’m really happy she wants him there and you’re willing to accept him.”

“Of course, I’m not great with remembering who is who amongst these kids, but I know she’s mentioned him a bunch of times, especially lately, and he sounds like a great kid. I’ll be happy to have him at the party, and you and his parents, if you all want to come. It’s a picnic party, because apparently my child thinks the beginning of March is the perfect time to sit outside when it’s likely to rain. So maybe bring spare clothes and be prepared to abruptly move to my apartment if that happens.”

Mingyu chuckles. “We’ll bring raincoats and towels.”

“Perfect!” You beam and he laughs again. “Alright, I really should go, but nice to officially meet you, Mingyu, talk later.” You start walking backwards and hope you don’t crash into a parent or even worse, a child with your ass.

“You too! Wait, what’s your name?!” You call your name out and he smiles brightly. “Have a good day at work!” You give him a thumbs up then turn and jog off out of the school grounds to get to your car, where it’s parked down the street, and head to work.

In the midst of eating dinner, with Junhui and Juni seeming to silently compete in who can shove the most noodles in the mouths judging by their matching, bulging cheeks, the doorbell rings. You choke on your laughter at the way they both turn their heads towards the hallway with wide eyes and dangling noodles, like a pair of greedy, chubby cheeked dogs.

“I swear it’s like she takes after you more than me,” you comment as you get up after putting your cutlery down. “Never should’ve named her after you.” Junhui just grins at you, so you roll your eyes and leave the kitchen to approach the door.

When you peer through the spyhole, you’re genuinely surprised to find a familiar figure standing on the other side.

Confusedly, you unlock the door and open it just enough to look directly at Jihoon, who once again has his hair in his eyes; though at least now, thanks to the warmer weather, he’s no longer hiding half of his face in a thick scarf, even if his coat is done up all the way to his chin.

“Hi,” he greets a little awkwardly.

“Hi,” you reply and put the latch on the door to step outside and pull the door up so that Juni doesn’t hear her teacher’s voice and excitedly abandon her dinner. “Is something wrong? Did Juni forget Bubba again?”

“No, no, I just asked her to give you a note, but I found it on her desk after class, so I guess she forgot it.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, so uhm, as a teacher I sometimes get invitations to new child-friendly exhibits and stuff before they open to the public; so that I can try things out and give feedback from a teacher’s perspective. And it’s also like free publicity for them because then I can see if it’s worth booking a class trip or something.”

“Right?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard about the new interactive science museum opening like an hour’s drive away?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.”

Jihoon’s tongue darts out to lick his lips quickly and you kind of hate yourself for tracking the movement with your eyes despite knowing he’s a married man. You rapidly lift your gaze back up and hope he hasn’t noticed.

“I received an invitation last night to the open day on Sunday; I can take up to two children so long as there’s another adult so that’s one adult per child for the open day. And well…I was wondering if you and Juni would like to go with me?”

“What?” You blink at him. “Me and Juni?”

“Yeah. I don’t have any children in my life, just my students, and I thought it’d be nice to get a child’s perspective; so I know if it’s fun and interesting enough for them. And well, I just…I thought of you. And Juni! I mean I thought of Juni and you. Her-her first, of course. As the child.”

“Of course,” you mumble, still looking at him with furrowed eyebrows from your surprise and confusion at the man turning up at your door to ask you and Juni to do something outside of school hours. “Is that something you usually do?”

“Huh?”

“Ask students and their parents to go to these events with you?”

Jihoon’s cheeks prickle a soft pink and his gaze flickers away quickly, then back at you. “No. I just…I don’t really like the other parents, honestly.”

“They’ve noticed.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t see the way they looked at us this morning?”

Jihoon’s expression turns down and pinches a little in confusion. “What do you mean, looked at us?”

“When you called me; multiple parents looked at us suspiciously and it’s not the first time. They often give me dirty looks; like I’m some kind of homewrecker just because you approach me and not anyone else, at least not smiling like you do me.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawns on his expression. “I didn’t realise; I didn’t even think of how it may seem. I just…”

“I think it would be inappropriate and only worsen their suspicions to be seen with you outside of the playground, Mr Lee.”

Jihoon winces. “You can still call me Jihoon.”

“It’s probably for the best I don’t. It’s too familiar to call my daughter’s teacher by his first name.”

“Right.” He chews on his lip as he nods slowly, eyes downcast to look at his own hands as he laces them together tightly in front of himself. “I understand. I’m sorry for overstepping, I didn’t mean to get too familiar and make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’d just rather not have homewrecker pinned to me, you know?”

“You’re not, it’s not like that,” he lifts his head to look at you imploringly. “You’re not a homewrecker.”

“I know; nothing has happened, nor will it. We were just talking. But you probably shouldn’t turn up at my apartment unannounced like this.”

“Ah, yeah, I just…it’s on Sunday so I couldn’t wait until Monday, for obvious reasons.”

“I understand.”

“Well, uhm, I just like…it’s in another town and we can meet there if you want? It could be like coincidence. We don’t have to explore the museum together, just go in together because it’s under my name and all that. Nobody can say anything and it’s not inappropriate to just exist in the same building at other ends.”

“It’s Juni’s birthday party on Sunday.”

“Oh, right,” his eyes widen a little. “I forgot. She tried to invite me, but I said it’d be inappropriate.”

“Yeah, she asked me too, multiple times.” You chuckle a little. “I told you; she loves you.”

“I love her too, in a like…professional teacher way. I love all my students but she’s special. She just has so much love and joy in her that it’s impossible not to favour her, even though I shouldn’t. You’ve done a really good job raising her; I’d be proud if I ever have a child anything like her.”

“Ah, thank you,” you flush softly with the praise. “She’s a good kid.”

“The best.”

There’s a moment here, with your eyes locked and something hanging in the air; it feels anticipatory in a way that brings back the same tender violence as before in your chest.

You want to look away, but you’re stuck in place, unable to turn even though your mind is yelling at you that this is a married man, and you can’t have him the way you yearn to. But your heart beats louder than logic and your apparently fragile morals.

It gets louder still when he takes a half step forward, only stopped by the door pulling open behind you and Junhui’s tall figure looming over you concernedly. Jihoon shuffles back and glances away with something that looks like guilt on his face.

“Mr Lee, what are you doing here?” Junhui asks, putting his arm around your shoulders to pull you back to him.

Being your best friend, Junhui knows all about the feelings you’ve developed for your daughter’s teacher over the past two months of sparkly eyed attention and beautiful smiles. He had slapped your limbs a few times when you confessed to him that you can’t stop thinking about Jihoon, even once you noticed the ring on his finger. Which is half of the reason Junhui has been so willing to do school runs in your place; so that you don’t fall prey to your own heart and become the homewrecker the other parents clearly think you are.

“Just had to discuss something time sensitive but we’re done, so I’ll go now. Have a nice evening. I’ll see you on Monday,” Jihoon replies, giving Junhui a curt smile and one a little lingering to you, before he turns and rushes off down the hall.

“The fuck did he want?” Junhui grunts, tugging you into the apartment and flicking the latch off to securely push the door up and let you lock it back up.

“Just a thing; I’ll explain later, let’s just eat.”

“Mm, alright.”

Junhui is not impressed at all when he learns the information that Jihoon asked you to go with him to the museum, even if Juni was supposed to be the reason for the invitation in the first place.

Your best friend’s disapproval is made more obvious than his rant on Friday night, once Juni was in bed, when you go down to your car on Monday morning with Juni to take her to school and find Junhui sitting on the bonnet of your car chewing on a pastry, which he immediately shares with Juni.

Without him even explaining his presence, he gets in the car with you both to go to the school, munching away and spilling pastry flakes all over the interior, but you’re too silently glad for his presence to berate him. You know he’s only here as a tall, crumb covered buffer in case Jihoon tries to approach you, and you appreciate that a lot.

In the playground as you stand with Junhui and Mingyu, who seem to have become friends since the picnic less than 24 hours ago, you spot Jihoon glancing in your direction multiple times, yet he keeps his distance with a tiny, almost imperceptible frown.

When you leave work the same afternoon, you find Junhui once again sitting on your car, despite the fact he works across the city so had to have left early to get here. Neither of you say a word, even if you want to call him an idiot for ditching work early, but you appreciate your best friend far too much to even pretend to scold him for silently supporting you in your mission to not fall for a married man.

For two straight weeks, Junhui appears every morning and most afternoons for the school run. The only afternoons you don’t leave work to see him waiting are the afternoons where he picks up Juni alone to take for their after-school park trips.

It seems that Junhui is the perfect deterrent because Jihoon doesn’t approach you once in those two weeks.

The only time you talk is when you approached him first to tell him that another child had said things to Juni that makes you think their parents have said something nasty about you in front of the child. So, you wanted to warn Jihoon that Juni will hit the child if they say another bad thing about you, just as Junhui taught her to. “Once can be let go, but twice deserves punishment”, are his exact words and honestly, you don’t even mind that he’s trained her in such a way, with the baby fighting skills to match. It’s taught her to be understanding, while not letting others be endlessly cruel or walk all over her.

Junhui may give your daughter odd habits and interests, but he at least teaches her to have a backbone, and you will forever be grateful to him for that.

Although it’s weird for you to go from being blessed with Jihoon’s direct attention and precious face twice a day for almost two full months, it’s much better for your heart to yearn with the distance than up close.

You had hoped that it will continue and you can gradually get over Jihoon, but a little over two weeks since enforcing the break, your phone rings while you’re in the middle of cooking dinner and the school number appears on your screen.

Somehow, you know it’s Jihoon before even answering. “Hello,” you greet.

“Hi, it’s Ji- uh, Mr Lee,” Jihoon’s familiar voice responds.

“Is something wrong?”

“She hasn’t noticed yet?” He mumbles confusedly.

“Noticed what?”

“Bubba is with me; I found him under my desk, for some reason.”

“Oh,” your tone is confused and without thought, you walk through to the living room, expecting to find Juni on the couch watching her after school cartoons but they’re playing to an empty room.

“Mm, so I thought I should drop him off. Professionally. I know she can’t sleep without him.”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll uhm see you in twenty minutes then.”

“Yeah, see you then,” you agree distractedly and hang up before stepping into your daughter’s room to find her drawing a picture at her little table. “Nini?”

“Yes, mama?” She replies, looking up at you innocently.

“What are you doing?”

“Draw picture for Mr Lee.”

“You’re drawing a picture for Mr Lee?” She hums and nods her head as she looks back down to her paper and returns to colouring. You approach and peer suspiciously at the drawing of who you know is you, because she always draws you the same way, and what vaguely looks like Jihoon, smiling and holding hands. “Baby, what’s this drawing about?”

“You hold hands and be happy.”

“Right, okay and why are you drawing that?” You crouch down beside her and lean your arms on the table to watch her carefully work on her masterpiece.

“Mr Lee sad.”

“What?” Your face falls and you look at your daughter. “Mr Lee is sad?” She nods. “Why do you say that? Did he tell you he’s sad?”

“No. He smiles little bit now.”

“He smiles less?” She nods. “Oh…” You turn your focus to the picture, not sure what to say.

“Mr Lee smiles with you,” Juni states a few seconds later when she puts her crayon down, signalling she’s finished with her drawing. “So, I make picture to make Mr Lee happy and smile because you are hold hands and happy.”

“Oh.”

“I did good picture, mama?” She asks, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Mr Lee will be happy?”

“It’s a very good drawing, well done, baby,” you answer, carefully avoiding responding to her second question, and kiss her head.

“Mr Lee be here soon?” She wonders as you get up, making you look at her in alarm. “With Bubba?”

Then, it suddenly makes sense; just why your daughter, who is usually so stuck to her post-nursery routine, isn’t sitting on the couch with Bubba or screaming the place down because her comfort plushie is lost. “Juni, did you hide Bubba under Mr Lee’s desk, so that he’ll have to come here?”

Juni’s eyes slowly widen in the way they always do when she realises that she’s done something wrong and is feeling guilty all of a sudden. Her cheeks pinken slightly and you sigh, knowing that you have your confirmation, even as she remains silent.

“That’s not good, baby; you can’t do things like that, okay?”

“But Mr Lee sad!”

“I know you care about Mr Lee, but he is an adult, and it isn’t anyone’s business but his own. You can’t trick him to come here to give him a picture.”

“And see you.”

“What?”

“You make Mr Lee happy, mama. You no talk anymore, only talk to Mingoo and Uncle Jun and not Mr Lee.”

“Wait, is this why you don’t like Mingyu lately?” You baulk, only now having an explanation to your daughter no longer liking to be near the kind man and always dragging Danil off in the mornings, while you and Junhui talk to Mingyu as you all wait for the doors to open for the children to be let in for the day.

“He steal you tenshun.”

“My attention?” She nods. “Baby, Mingyu hasn’t stolen anything; he’s mine and Uncle Jun’s new friend.”

“Mr Lee friend too! Have to be equal to all friends!” She repeats words that you and Junhui have both told her multiple times in gentle reminder when she talks about one child more than others, just so that she doesn’t leave any of her friends out unintentionally.

“Mr Lee isn’t my friend,” you inform. “He’s your teacher, not my friend.”

The way Juni frowns at you can only be described as painfully lost. “But you smile together. You make him happy; he make you happy. Like friends.”

“Mr Lee doesn’t make me happy.”

“Not now, you no talk because Mingoo,” she huffs.

“It’s not because of Mingyu. Mr Lee is your teacher and has other parents and students to give attention to; I’ve stepped back to let him do that.”

“Well don’t!” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Step not back.”

“Forward is opposite to back.”

“I know! I’m not stupid.”

“I never said-”

“You stupid,” her grumbled words cut you off mid-sentence to gawp at her in astonishment. Never before has your daughter called you stupid.

Even though you shouldn’t take it to heart, knowing she’s just upset and still learning, it stings.

“Excuse me?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips when you manage to gather your wits to retort. She looks at you and upon taking in your firm expression, she immediately looks away again. “You do not talk to me or anyone like that, Juni. That is not a nice thing to say.”

“Mr Lee your friend.”

“Don’t change the subject. This is about you calling me stupid.”

“You be stupid for saying not friend. He is.”

“Juni-”

“No! You be stupid! Mr Lee your friend, and he need you! You make him happy, but you ditch for stupid, stupid, stupid Mingoo!”

“Alright, that’s enough, you need calm down time,” you declare, packing up her art supplies quickly to put back on the shelf, while she watches you with rapidly saddening eyes. “When you’ve calmed down and are ready to apologise for being mean, you can come to me, and we will talk properly.”

“You being mean!” She doubles down and abruptly gets up to storm over to her bed and throw herself on top of, where she start to cry.

As much as you want to soothe your distressed child, you know she needs time alone, and frankly so do you, so you turn and leave her room without another word.

It breaks your heart to return to making dinner as if you can’t hear Juni’s crying turn from angry wails to unhappy sobbing down the hall, but you stay firm and wait for her to be ready and come to you.

By the time the doorbell rings, you can only hear the occasional hiccupped inhale and sniffles when you listen carefully over the noises of making dinner.

When you open the door to Jihoon already standing with Bubba in arms against his chest as if he’s been using the toy as his own comfort plushie, you suddenly see why Juni thinks she needs to trick Jihoon to stop by in an attempt to cheer him up.

The man looks paler than usual, with dark smears under his eyes badly hidden with concealer, which isn’t even his shade, and his lips look bitten half raw. He looks like he needs a hug.

“Oh,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

“Oh? Were-were you expecting someone else?” He asks, looking down the hall with widened eyes as if he expects this mystery visitor to suddenly appear.

“No just…you uh…is it rude to say you don’t look good?” You wince at your own words, but he doesn’t.

Jihoon looks back at you and sighs a little. “It’s the truth.”

“You look like you need a hug, or a strong drink.”

“I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh…” He hums vaguely in response and awkwardly looks at the floor between you while tightening his hold on Bubba. “Do…Do you want a hug?” You offer.

Jihoon’s head snaps up to look at you with bulging eyes and a slightly dropped jaw. “Wh-what?”

“A hug? Do you want one?”

“Yes,” he blurts, then shakes his head and steps backwards before you can even try to move closer. “I mean no, no, that’s inappropriate. You’ve made it very clear that you want a strict teacher-parent relationship with me, and I will respect that.”

“I’m offering as a parent, for the sake of my child.”

“Why would hugging me benefit Juni in anyway?” He looks utterly bewildered.

“She hid him under your desk, so you’d have to come here,” you inform, pointing at his chest, where he’s hugging Bubba tight.

Jihoon looks down at the creepy duck, then up at you even more puzzled than previously. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s noticed that you’re sad and apparently, I make you happy.”

“Oh…” he mutters and shrinks into himself a little further while no longer making eye contact with you, focusing on Bubba again as he mindlessly strokes his fingers over the fluff. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be obvious.”

“Wait, she’s right?” You baulk. “I thought she was just being a kid.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m the reason you look like this?” You motion to him vaguely, though he doesn’t look away from the duck and just nods in confirmation. “Fuck. Why? This isn’t right, Jihoon. You can’t look this pitiful because I put boundaries that should remain in place so that our lives don’t get fucked up.”

“I wasn’t aware being my friend would fuck up your life but thanks for letting me know,” he grunts and thrusts the duck towards you one handed. “I’ll leave and stop being a bother.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you assure, naturally taking the toy ready to give back to your daughter. When he tries to lower his empty hand as he turns to leave, you grab it. “This is why. You-” you cut off when you realise that although it’s his left hand you’re grasping, there isn’t a single piece of jewellery under your touch.

Confusedly, you tuck Bubba under your arm to free your own left hand to take his wrist to prevent him from walking away, like you fear he will, when you let go with your right hand to reveal his bare fingers to your sight.

“Where’s your ring?” You mutter and look up to find Jihoon staring at you with wide eyes and frozen in place. “Jihoon?” You prompt when he continues to stare with parted lips.

“H-Huh?” He blinks a few times to try and bring himself back to reality.

“Where’s your ring?”

“Ring? What ring?”

“Your wedding ring.”

“I’m not married,” he mutters, eyebrows pulling together as he too looks at his hand.

“No, no, you are,” you insist while dropping his hand to move Bubba from under your arm to your chest to squeeze slightly as you mind starts to whirl. “You wear a fucking wedding band every day, I saw it earlier. I know you wear one. Jun’s seen it and Juni drew it on her picture! You’re married, Jihoon!”

“Oh,” his eyes slowly widen in understanding. “That’s just a trick.”

“What?”

“Last year, a lot of parents were really inappropriate towards me, so I faked an engagement and came back this year wearing the ring; to stop them bothering me for reasons that aren’t about their children.”

“What?”

“I’m not married, I’m not even seeing anyone. I’m single, like really single,” he emphasises. “I haven’t even been on a date in years.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

An awkward, slightly tense silence comes over the pair of you as you try to stop your mind from spinning and heart racing with hope and a brand-new dance routine.

“That’s why you stopped talking to me?” Jihoon manages to get out in such a quiet voice that you barely hear him over your pulse thudding in your ears. But you hear and look up at him. “You stopped talking to me because you thought I’m married?”

“You wear a ring,” you reason.

“Yeah, but I thought…I just thought that you don’t want to be friends with me, not that you’re…fuck,” he exhales and lifts his hands to put his face in them. “The one person I didn’t want it to work on,” he groans into his palms, making your stomach flip with fresh hope that he means that he might possibly feel the same way you do.

You watch with anticipation dancing amongst your internal organs, while he scrubs his hands over his face with a few strange groans, then abruptly pushes them up into his hair despite his beanie, resulting in knocking it off to the floor, yet he either doesn’t notice somehow, or simply does not care.

Jihoon looks directly at you with his fingers in his hair before dropping his arms and taking a step closer while opening his mouth to say something with a painfully sincere expression on his face, but a sniffled voice from behind you stops him in his tracks.

“Mama?” Immediately, you turn to look at Juni, where she’s standing down the hall looking miserable with her precious little face swollen with sadness. “I-I’m sorry for call you stupid,” she apologises, lip wobbling.

As soon as you lower to your knees, Juni runs over to throw herself into your open arms and clings to you tightly. “I know, baby, I know. Thank you for apologising; I appreciate it a lot.”

“Never call you stupid again,” she promises, even if you know she likely will forget that promise as she grows, especially as a hormonal teenager. Though you won’t hold it against her.

“Thank you.” You kiss her head and hold her tighter as you get to your feet, stuffing Bubba between your chests for her to immediately grab, while you turn to look at Jihoon.

He’s got something tender in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you and your daughter, and you realise that it’s not the first time that he’s looked at you two like this; like the sight of you settles his very soul.

“Do you like lasagne?” You blurt.

Jihoon slowly looks at you instead of watching Juni rub her face into the almost bald patch on Bubba’s belly, where fur is missing from all the times that she’s done exactly this after an emotionally exhausting cry. “What?” He mutters dumbly.

“Lasagne, do you like it? And garlic bread.”

“Uh, ye-yeah,” he confirms with a nod and shuffles on his feet as both of his hands grip the strap of his bag, where it’s crossed over his chest.

“Do you maybe want to join us for dinner? I made too much for just us because I thought Jun would be here, but he went home with an upset stomach from once again eating out of date yogurt because he doesn’t want to waste it. It wasn’t even his yogurt. I don’t know where he got it from.” Admittedly, you’re rambling with sudden nerves at the thought of Jihoon rejecting your invitation, but you can’t stop yourself. “Only if you don’t have plans. Not that I’m assuming you don’t, because you could be very busy and-”

Hearing your name on his tongue for the first time in two weeks cuts you off immediately, lips pressing together as you blink at him with widened eyes. “I don’t have plans. I’d love to have dinner with both of you.”

Juni perks up as your tense posture deflates a little with relief. “Mr Lee eat dinner too?!” She shrieks, then squeaks and leans towards him when he nods in confirmation.

Jihoon smiles, lighting up in that truly precious smile you haven’t seen in weeks as he steps forward to take your daughter from your arms. Juni immediately cuddles up to him and leans her head contently on his shoulder.

You can only watch as you step back to let him into the apartment and shut the door after him. He’s not wearing winter boots now, just trainers, which he easily slips off beside the shoe rack without putting Juni down or removing his caring hold on her.

“I show Mr Lee picture now?” Juni asks and you just nod so she wiggles, prompting the man to put her down.

Jihoon takes the chance to remove his bag and coat to hang on the hooks, then accept her offered hand to toddle after her down the hall to her bedroom as she rabbits on, about you have no idea what, you’re too focused on the sight of the man happily going along with your daughter as if there’s nowhere that he’d rather be.

Though before he disappears into her bedroom, he looks over at you and smiles in a way that makes you believe that perhaps, there’s one other place he’d be just as happy to be.

Although you had assumed Jihoon would make excuses to leave after dinner is over, he doesn’t. He stays to help clean up. He stays to sit on the couch with Juni on his lap to watch far too much TV for a school night. He stays to read Juni a bedtime story with you, both of you sitting either side of her on her double bed that dwarfs her but fits the three of you perfectly. And he stays to return to the couch with you and look at you with a soft, content smile that hasn’t left his features all evening.

“I think she might’ve been right,” you comment after you’ve both just been sitting for a couple of quiet, peaceful minutes curled up facing one another, knees almost touching with the sides of your heads on the back rest.

“About what?”

“I’m stupid.”

Jihoon chokes out a surprised laugh at your words, making you smile. “I think you’re far from stupid but I’m clearly missing something here, so please do elaborate.”

“You look happy now.”

“I feel happy now.”

“Because of me?” You ask, hope tilting your words upwards.

“Yeah, but also your precious daughter. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d want any child I have to be like her.”

“You want children?”

“I never used to.” He shrugs a little.

“When did that change?”

“September, when a ball of love and energy spilled half a cup of dirty water over her own painting and proceeded to laugh like a maniac while splashing her tiny hands in the mess.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing that he’s talking about Juni’s very first day at nursery, when she came out covered in dried paint and Jihoon had repeatedly apologised to you about the mess.

“Then I met her mother,” he continues, making your gentle laughter trickle away, hearing the softness in his tone. “And instead of getting angry at me or blaming me for the lack of spare clothes in her child’s backpack like other parents have before, she just laughed and said she’d try to remember to pack spare clothes for the next day. And she did. I had to change her daughter the next day when she tripped and fell in a muddy puddle, and when I told her mother, she only asked if her daughter made the most of being in the puddle. Which, she did; that child always makes the most of being a mess and has taught her friends to do the same.”

“Oops,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

Jihoon chuckles and shakes his head. “Even though it means I have to change and dry at least one child a day now, I wouldn’t ever change it. That little girl is the most amazing child. She’s allowed to be a child while still being emotionally intelligent enough to be the most caring and supportive five-year-old I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. I’m dreading the day I have to watch her move on at the end of the year. I don’t want to let her go.”

“She has that effect,” you confirm with a pleased smile at the thought of how much love there is directed at your daughter, which you hope only grows as she does.

“She gets it from her mother.” Jihoon looks between your bodies to where your hands are clasped together around your knees before he reaches out to touch your hand. His lips twitch up a little further when you release your hold to allow him to take one of your hands into his. “Do you think that perhaps, maybe her mother will give me the chance to prove myself to her? That I’m worthy to be by her side and maybe one day, not any day soon; I know it’ll take a long time to get to that point, but maybe one day, I can perhaps have the honour of being a part of her daughter’s life too outside of school?”

“You really want that?” You whisper. Jihoon nods, still looking at your hand as he traces his thumb over your knuckles, entranced by the divots and bumps. “Please look at me, Jihoon,” you plead as you lift your head. He pauses, takes a breath, then looks up at you slowly. Noticing that you’re no longer leaning against the backrest entirely, he straightens up a little too, to match your position. “I think that she already adores you.”

“The mother or daughter?” He replies and swallows thickly.

“Both of us.”

Jihoon’s eyes start to shimmer with joy. “Really? Y-you mean that?”

“Yeah.”

“I fucking adore you both too,” he replies with a sudden heavy exhale. “I like you so much, more than I ever thought I could like someone and that says something because I was convinced that I was in love with my last girlfriend and wanted to marry her.”

“Are you saying that you like me more than the woman you wanted to marry?” You deadpan.

Jihoon opens and closes his mouth a few times in the perfect fish imitation before his cheeks bloom a beautiful, precious pink and he smiles sheepishly at you. “I guess so?”

“Sounds serious,” you tease.

He chuckles and nods. “It does, huh? At least you know that this isn’t something casual or inconsequential to me. If you’d give me the chance, I’d devote myself to you for the rest of my life. You really are my happiness.”

“That’s…I don’t want to be someone’s only reason for being happy, Jihoon. I want you to have joy outside of me too. I already have one person who is dependent on me, and I refuse to accept another, unless I birth them so-” Jihoon suddenly making a strange, choking type sound, cuts you off, causing you to look at his rapidly reddening cheeks with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, yep. Great! I’m great!” He almost wheezes.

“Liar. What is it?”

“Nothing,” he squeaks and squeezes your hand a little. “So uh, is-is that like…something you’d want?”

“You?”

“Another baby,” he blurts, before hiding his blushing face in his hands. “Ignore me, please.”

“No,” you snort a laugh and shuffle closer to pull his hands down from his face. He lets you, but tilts his head downwards to try and hide, though looks at you through his lashes. You’re pretty sure he isn’t intentionally making himself look so cute, yet he looks utterly adorable. “Let’s just start with a date first, yeah?”

“A date?” You nod. Although he’s still very pink, he lifts his head. “I’d really like that.”

“Me too. But I think we should take it slow; you’re still Juni’s teacher and I don’t want to complicate anything. I know you favour her and I’m not going to stop that, but I don’t want anyone to make assumptions that it’s just because you’re fucking me.”

“Fucking you,” he whispers, eyes going a little dazed, up until you laugh, and then he’s groaning and hiding his face in the cushion of the backrest. “I’m so fucking lame. Please pretend you haven’t seen me being so pathetic, so you don’t lose interest.”

“I don’t think you’re lame or pathetic,” you giggle and reach out to gently wiggle your fingers between his cheek and the fabric until he lets you lead him back upright and facing you. You take a moment to focus on curving your palm against his cheek and then soften as he tilts into your hold as if it’s already nothing more than instinctual to seek out your touch. “I think you’re precious, Lee Jihoon.”

Jihoon takes a stuttered breath in before he curls his hand around your wrist to hold onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll cease to exist if he doesn’t. “Is asking to kiss you going too fast?”

You don’t answer, not verbally at least. You extend your thumb to brush against the edge of his bottom lip, smiling as they part softly before you lean in, and he eagerly mirrors your position to meet you halfway with a simple, yet oh so sweet, kiss.

“I really hope you’ll always think I’m precious enough to remain with you,” he admits in a whisper, lips almost brushing yours as his free hand lifts to cup your face adoringly.

“I’m not worried about that at all,” you assure confidently then tug him back in for another soft kiss.

It’s not a lie either, you’re not at all worried that Jihoon will ever be anything but precious to you; you truly can’t imagine him ever doing a thing to change that particular opinion of yours.

What you are worried about, however, is how your daughter will react to you dating for the first time in her life, especially when it’s Jihoon who you’re dating. You hope that she thinks of him as equally as precious as you do, and she’ll be happy about it.

Though you can’t think of that now; you have a precious man to kiss until your lips are swollen and the pink of his cheeks threatens to become permanent. You’ll let your daughter’s reaction to the news be a problem for future you. You have more immediate matters to focus on, after all.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

#wkcnet #svthub #kvanity #thediamondlifenetwork #keopihausnet #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon angst #lee jihoon fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi angst #woozi fanfic

372 notes · View notes

at-this-point-i-dont-even-know · 2 months ago

Text

Lean On Me (Part 5/7)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinavitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

A conversation that needs to be had, is had....

Warnings: casual drinking, work in a strip club, general lack of clothing in the workplace slow burn

(I know nothing about working in a strip club, so this is all based off media representations, sorry for any mistakes)

part four / part six

taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee, @hagarsays, @4ishere, @omgbrianab, antisocialfiore, eugene-emt-roe

“Michael what the fuck!” you hiss, ripping your arm from his grasp as soon as the door slammed shut.

You clock your colleague Holly marching towards you, with a baseball bat raised high.

“It's okay! He’s my-”

“Boyfriend?”

“Friend!”

Holly puts the bat down and smiles at Michael, who's still glaring at you. He runs his hands through his hair, and his breathing is heavy. You know whatever conversation that was about to happen could not happen in the change rooms.

“Holly, can you watch my section for a minute,” you say a lot calmer than you feel, “I’m going to take Dog and him,” pointing at Michael, “outside for some air.”

Holly agrees because of course she does. You two have been at this club for years together, she was a single mum of two, who's been caught dancing by many ex-boyfriends, she knew what conversation was about to be had.

Not that Michael is your boyfriend.

Dog is sitting patiently under one of the makeup desks, her tail wagging as she watches you pick up her lead.

“You bring your dog to this place.”

It's the first words Michael has said all evening and you turn to him, all fake smiles gone.

“Of course I do! I work 10 hour shifts some days, I can’t leave a dog in Frank's apartment for half the day!”

Michael says nothing, but ever the gentleman, he holds open the backroom door for you as you and Dog wander into the alley way.

The back alley behind the bar is as safe as any place can be in Pittsburgh after dark, it has two large gates on either end and only staff at the club know the combinations to the locks. It was where you have spent a lot of time either chain smoking when you were young, or internally screaming as you got older.

You let Dog off the lead, who trots off to do her business and turn to look at Michael, who was looking around the alley, his brows raised. You could still feel the anger coming off him.

“So?” you start, crossing your arms until you realise all that's done is press your tits up and make them even more obvious to the red faced doctor.

“You’re a stripper.”

“Waitress technically- I lost my spot on the stage when I went to Europe.”

“Why?”

“Why did I lose my spot or why am I here?”

He rolled his eyes, “Why are you here?”

“Oh I just love getting my breasts out for random strangers.” the sarcasm drips from your mouth, you can’t help it.

“Sweethea-”

“No Sweetheart! No! You can’t just walk into a stripclub, then get mad when a woman has her tits out!”

“I didn’t want to come to a strip club.” he said weakly, his own argument falling flat.

“Oh your old mate Jack just pulled you in here under protest?”

“Well-”

“What are you really mad about, Dr Robinavitch?” he flinches at the formal name and you can’t help but smirk.

“Why are you here?”

“Money.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, I make more here in one night than I would in a week somewhere else. It's good, fast money!”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need to make fast money?”

The question has you laughing, maybe not with humour but with amusement. Dog wanders off as you drop her lead to gather yourself.

“Why? Why do I need money? Oh I don’t know, maybe because my big brother is in rehab? Or because my parents are in a facility that has exorbitant bills their pension doesn’t cover? Rent? Vet bills? I’ve maxed out four credit cards since I have gotten back, so those need to be paid off as well? How else should I make my money, Dr Robinavitch?”

He’s silent, and the rage has simmered behind his eyes but his hands flexed between open and fists as if trying to ground himself.

“What about your degree?” he said, each word a challenge.

“What degree?” you huff, “I dropped out of school at fifteen.”

The rage rose again as he took in your words.

“What?”

You move to lean against the wall of the club, it was cool (and a little gross) against your exposed skin.

“My dads a high functioning alcoholic and my mum- my mum is a self centred bitch who only cares about two things, my dad and Frank.I was an unhappy accident.” You close your eyes, you haven’t admitted any of this to anyone, ever, “Dad lost his job when I was fourteen, Frank was fifteen, and the bills started the pile up. Sacrifices had to be made, and that included my dance classes which I was mad about but I was told by my mother, young ladies do not complain. Then dad got a new job and it was okay for a few months but he hurt himself and ended up on workers comp. Then the bills piled up again and mum sat me down and told me that I needed to pull my weight around the house.”

“What about Frank?”

“Frank was top of his class in everything, he was on the football team and looking at a scholarship to any college he wanted. I was not doing so well in any of my classes, which got worse when I started working at the local diner every night. We chatted about it but he didn’t want to drop out of school so it was decided, I would.”

“That's not fair.” Michael said and when you opened your eyes he was in front of you, his hands on your face, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye.

“You shouldn’t have been saddled with that.”

You lean into his touch, and feel his breath on your face. It would take only a moment to breach the distance between you. You could almost taste him on your lips as you look him in his eyes.

The anger is still there, seething behind the golden brown colour but you can see something else there as he looks from your eyes to your lips.

You need to break the moment before you kiss him in the alley.

It was a cliché to kiss someone outside of the club in this alley, plus your boss had cameras rigged out here 'for your safety'.

“But I was. I left school and started odd jobs, waitressing, working at a grocery store, I was even a cleaner at your hospital for a few months. But nothing was covering all the house repayments, Frank's textbooks or my mum's spending habits.”

Michael was now shaking his head, his thumb gently grazing your cheek.

“I know Frank, he’s an ass but he wouldn’t have let you pay for everything.”

“My folks didn’t tell him everything, and I didn’t want him to know. He couldn’t be distracted, he had a plan and a path and it was my job to keep him on it.” You didn’t sound bitter, the words could have been bitter. Others might have thought you would be bitter, but you weren’t, not at Frank.

He had always been the kid who was going to make it.

You were just the little sister that was going to help him get there.

“I got a job here just before my sixteenth birthday, started as a dish-bitch, worked my way up to dancing by the time I was seventeen.”

“Seventeen?”

The grip on your cheek is tighter, as you watch him school his emotions, he got a little crease between his brows that looks like a ‘v’ as you watch him swallow a further remark.

“Yep- I had a fake ID in case the cops ever came in but they never did, at least not to raid us.” you joke but the brow on Michaels brow just got deeper, “No one cared really, I had boobs, and ass and was willing to work every night. So I did, I paid off my parents house, I covered Frank's textbooks, the excess of his college living costs and got him the best birthday and christmas presents. They never asked where the money came from, maybe they never cared enough to, I think Frank might have an idea but he never brought it up.”

Michael pulls away slightly, still in your personal bubble but no longer touching you. You try not to verbalise a whine as you try to lean back into his touch.

“You made enough to pay off your parents house.” A statement not a question.

You could tell Michael was processing, his hands were now in his pockets and his entire body language had changed, he stood taller, ridged as he blinked slowly. He walked away from you, suddenly on the other side of the alley.

“Michael?”

“You paid off your parents' house, and Frank's bills, just by dancing?” There was something under those words, an accusation you couldn’t quite place. Somehow during your confession he had picked up something that he couldn’t get through.

“Yes.” Your voice was small, and you realised your hands were shaking. You had just poured your whole truth out to this man and while you hadn’t expected open arms, his response had you thrown.

“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”

There it was, the judgement and the disgust.

Michael was an understanding Doctor, a person who would advocate for those less fortunate.

But all people have their own hang ups, the thing they would never be able to look past.

And you just found his.

“Stripping is not prostitution.” You say through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t say that-”

“You didn’t have to! I heard it in your voice!”

“I didn’t-”

You want to cry, the tears are there but you won’t cry in front of him, how had you gone from flirting over pancakes to being judged in a back alley.

“We are done here, have a lovely rest of your evening, Dr Robinavitch.”

You push past time, snapping for Dog to follow you. She does, stopping only for a moment to sniff Michaels pant leg before trotting back inside, excited to see who was backstage and ready to give her cuddles.

“Why did you come back to it?”

You look behind you, “What?”

“When you came home, why did you come back here?”

You sigh and just shake your head.

“Because Frank needed me.” You admit before closing the door and returning to your shift.

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

Michael’s table of friends are still there when you come back, your fake smile plastered wide on your face.

You couldn’t wait until the club closed and you could go home and cry into your pillow.

But there were still four hours left.

Michael returned to the table a few moments after you, but left almost immediately, making his excuses to the bachelor and Jack. You stayed well away until you saw Michael leave, letting Holly and Joe fill any drink orders.

Jack's eyes stay fixed on you for moments after Michael has gone, tracking your every movement.

You smiled back at him, daring him to say anything. You could do with a fight tonight you thought to yourself as you passed out wings, and whiskey glasses to another table that had come in.

But he’s gone after you pick yourself up off a table, belly button still wet from a body shot.

You look around for him or any of Michaels friends as you tuck the $100 bill into your purse, but the table was empty, bar their finished glasses and a tip.

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

The liquor was flowing at almost every table by the time 2am rolled by, and Holly had just taken her place on stage. You wanted to laugh as she sent you a wink and a kiss mid-dip.

Joe is still behind the bar but he stops what he's doing as you shuffle up, exhaustion and sticky heels wearing you down.

“You okay?”

You laugh and give him a gentle push, “I think that's the third time you’ve asked me that tonight.”

He shrugs and pushes you back, “You spend half your life looking after everyone else. Someones gotta check in.”

After the conversation with Michael and the rollercoaster the last few weeks have been you can’t help but hug the older man. Pulling him in and clinging to him as you whisper your thanks. You had known Joe since you were fifteen, he had stood behind you for your first week, snapping the fingers of anyone who tried to touch you while you washed dishes in the ugliest frumpiest clothes he could talk the boss into letting you wear.

“I think the crush is over before it even began.” You admitted as you pulled away, grabbing shot glasses for the table closest to the stage. They wanted to do tequila shots with Holly, so you poured four tequila shots for the guests and one shot of water in a ‘special’ sparkly glass for Holly. It wasn’t against the rules to drink during a shift, when someone wants to buy you a drink, but you knew Holly had an early school run the next morning and the last thing she needed was a hangover.

The shift goes on, and you go through the motions. Pouring drinks, folding your tips into your little purse and every so often taking money for a dance.

It was like you somehow ended up on autopilot, just doing everything with a smile on your face and a bounce in your step as your mind continues to just replay your conversation with Michael again and again.

“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”

He had asked the question again and again, and maybe it was your own insecurity but each time felt heavier and heavier.

You had paid off your parents' house by dancing on a stage.

You had gotten your brother through college by dancing on a stage.

And you would get him through rehab with lap dances and body shots.

And you were not less than him for doing so.

The bar lights came on as the clock turned to 4am. You hadn’t even noticed the hours pass by, but as one last patron tried to grab your ass you waved goodbye to the stragglers and let out a sigh of relief.

Your feet hurt, and you just need your bed.

Joe’s changed the music to a remix of ABBA’s greatest hits and you take a moment to remove your heels, enjoying the feel of the trainers you keep in your bag.

You're half way through putting chairs on tables when the front door slams open.

You turn ready to tell whoever was there to go home to their wife when your voice fails you.

“Can we talk?”

#fanfiction #the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael robby robinavitch x reader #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #dr robby imagine

274 notes · View notes

dream-with-a-fever · 6 months ago

Text

just saw someone say that ginny’s interest in quidditch is only an attempt to get harry to like her… like are we being for real right now..? saying ginny didn’t show interest in quidditch until book 4…. yeah bc girlie was barely in those books we didn’t know shit about what she was interested in bc harry didn’t have that much to do with her, and as the books are from his perspective, obviously we’re in the dark about a lot with regards to her, her interests, her hobbies etc. by book 5 it’s clear she has been flying since she was 6 years old??? breaking into the broomshed at home and flying when her brothers in secret, and she’s darn good at it too. just because she doesn’t vocalise this interest in front of the boy who she’s got a huge crush on and who saved her life (as a result is very shy in front of him also), doesn’t mean those interests don’t exist. the way ginny is set up is never to discredit hermione’s personality/accomplishments (unless you can’t comprehend the text, and shipped hermione with harry even tho it’s clear neither party were interested in each other). the two of them have very different goals, personalities and interests. i don’t think the text tells you to put ginny above hermione at all.

ginny is a sporty type with a stubborn nature, great sense of humour and a big heart. reducing her to someone who only likes a sport because her crush does is so degrading to her as a character. also get this sh*te out of the hinny tag.

#harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry x ginny #book ginny #hp #ginevra molly weasley

148 notes · View notes

slutforfictionalwomen · 9 months ago

Text

Listen with my eyes

Kinktober day 20

Agatha Harkness x Fem Reader

Main kinks: teacher x student, brat taming.

Word count: 1,5K

Summary: You can't take your eyes off her body during her lectures, so she decides to teach you to behave.

Warnings: Smut, strap on use, finger fucking, school sex, brat taming, spanking/slapping, dom/sub, praise, degration, slight dubcon.

(Please tell me if I forgot anything)

This has been going on for a while now. It has actually been since your first day at college. Once you had laid eyes on Agatha Harkness, you couldn't take your eyes off of her again. Not only was she your history teacher, but she was also your coach. This meant you had to see her a lot, a constant distraction.

"(Y/n), can you please explain what I just said?" You had again dazed off, and Professor Harkness definitely noticed that. But what else could you do? When she had decided to put on her cherry red suit to work this morning, not thinking of the effect it would have on her students.

Your eyes meet hers, and you stumble over your words. "Uhmm I-I wouldn't kn-know, Professor." You awkwardly look in a different direction. Being good for her is all you want, but you just can't when she is so attractive.

"Hm, thought so. Put your mind elsewhere, young lady," Agatha says in a way as if she knows. As if she has seen your fingers buried deep within your own pussy in the middle of the night, with her on your mind. To you, it doesn't matter that she is about fifty while you are nineteen. You want her.

You manage to catch up with the work, as always. Even though you often pay more attention to the teacher than to what she's saying, you still want to get good grades for her. You want her to notice you in a different way from other students.

That night, you're scrolling her instagram with a hand between your legs. It always feels so wrong, but so right. When you first went after her social media, you just checked Facebook. She was age fifty or up, so that's the platform she would use, right? Fifty year old women didn't use instagram. At least, that's what you thought. When you couldn't find her on the platform, it upset you, only for you to randomly come across her on instagram weeks later.

Now, every lonely night, you scroll through the pictures. Seeing her feed, you know that she knows what she's doing. Her feed even mentions the word 'milf' one or two times, which makes your insides burn even more.

Like every night, you rub tight circles on your clit with just the amount of lube that makes it feel the best. You settle on a picture and let the scenarios come. This is the only time you get this sinful, this dirty. You're an innocent girl, but this is the side Agatha gets out of you. Your dorm has thin walls, which often makes you bite down on your sheets to hold back moans. But in your mind, you're screaming out her name while she performs all kinds of crazy moves to get you off.

The lecture hall is quiet, except for the sound of chalk on the chalkboard. No one speaks during Professor Harknesses lectures, not even a whisper. You are again settled in the front row since you got there a bit late, and everyone stays as far away from the history professor as possible. You don't mind the nice view, but it does push you back into your daydreaming.

"Enough, y/n. You can leave, come back at 5." You jump up at Agatha calling your name. You stare at her in disbelief. Your heartbeat raises, questions popping up in your head. Why? What did I do? You didn't notice you spoke those questions aloud until Professor Harkness chuckles, as if she enjoys this. "You're once again daydreaming during my lecture, which you always do. Why are you still coming to my lecture if you don't pay attention?"

Her voice has a bit of humour and a bit of anger, but there's something else you can't quite put your finger on. When you feel tears coming up, you quickly pack your stuff and get out of the hall. You don't know why you're crying. It's not that bad. So you guess it's just the thought of disappointing the 50 year old woman you look up to.

"Do you know why you're here?" Agatha Harkness, your history professor, is sat on her desk chair with her legs up on the desk. An immediate reminder of why you are here. You came back at 5 like she told you to, after having a good cry, of course.

You feel the upset feeling coming back and try to shrug it off. Though your answer comes out with a sob. "Because I can't focus on the lesson. I promise I can be good but I can't control myself!" A tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away.

Professor Harkness takes her feet off the desk, leaning forward to cup your cheek. "Don't worry, sweet girl. Those words sound familiar to me. I used to be like you. As your coach, I know you. You just need a little training." She wipes away another tear rolling down your face.

"Training?" It sounds odd to you. What did she mean by that? Tutoring wouldn't help with this kind of concentration problem. Especially with her, since she kind of is the problem.

Her eyes hold your gaze. "You're a brat, darling. If you can't listen to me properly, you need to learn that." She walks around the desk while taking off her suit jacket. You're so mesmerised by the way she moves, you didn't notice she was still talking. You get smacked out of your thoughts, a sting left on your cheek.

"Ouch!" You shriek and rub your cheek, but Agatha pulls you up by your chin. "I was going to give you a normal introduction to our training, but apparently, you need it more than I thought. Can't even listen to me for more than ten seconds without getting distracted by my body, such a pathetic whore," she speaks while pushing your front over the desk and flipping your skirt up.

Within seconds, one of Professor Harknesses big veiny hands is grabbing your pussy through your undies, making you whimper. "Through all of this, you will pay attention to my words. The better you listen, the less red will be on your face when we're done. Understood?" A calloused finger has slid into your delicate undies, rubbing yoir clit as if she has done this many times and knows your body through and through. "I understand, Professor."

"Good." Agatha leans over you kiss your neck, still rubbing your clit. You're soaking wet by now. "Okay darling, do you touch yourself?" Her finger starts teasing your entrance.

The question somehow manages to turn you on even more. "Yes, professor." You earn some praising, but then you get lost in bliss. Your professor rudely pulls you out of it by delivering a smack to your cheek.

"Pay attention, doll. How many fingers can you fit inside?" One long finger gets pushed halfway in before being pulled back again. She kind of just keeps teasing that way.

"T-two. Haven't tried anything more!" Those last words come out with a squeal as she pushes one whole finger into you, setting up a steady rhythm. You immediately come to notice how one of her fingers is much bigger than one of yours.

Agatha shortly pulls away to slide your underwear down. You also hear a belt being unbuckled. "And how many times do you touch yourself?" You can hear the grin in her voice. It sounds like she is sliding her trousers down with one hand, the other still occupied by your pussy.

"Every night," you whimper. There goes your innocence. You cry out when the professor pushes in another finger. "Too much!"

Agatha chuckles. "No, no, definitely not too much." She starts up a rough pace in your hole, hitting all the right spots. This will make you go feral. "I'm intrigued, darling. What do you think about when you have your knuckles deep in your tiny hole? Or do you watch something on that slutty phone of yours?"

When you don't respond, lost in pleasure, she delivers a smack to your full bottom. "You! Your instagram, I scroll on it every time my hand is in my undies." You sob with the confession.

"So you found my instagram? Fascinating. Are you sure that you can be good?" Agatha pulls away her fingers, but lines something solid, silicone up with your pussy. Her other hand keeps rubbing your bundle of nerves, making you clench on nothing.

"No! No, I can be good for you, I promise. Please, professor!" The begging was all it took for your professor to thrust her strap in, setting up a brutal pace.

Agatha chuckles, almost cackles. "You can be good, you say? I hope you remember why you're here. Let's see how long you can keep up while I explain everything you missed during today's history lesson."

#marvel #kinktober #wlw smut #fanfic #fanfiction #agatha harkness #agatha harkness smut #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #teacher x student #sesbian lex

250 notes · View notes

sillylittlegirlthoughts · 3 months ago

Note

could you write something (prefer headcanons but cool with whatever your heart desires) about single mom reader and Chris?? Like she’s a youtuber too and has like 5/6 year old??

Thank love💛

can’t believe im finally posting again!!

Hope you enjoy my lovely, this was so lovely to write!

ChrisMD headcanons

— They met a a YouTube event and had memories of one another from the good old days of YouTube. She’s more of a blogger, a day-to-day lifestyle creator with a passion for the simple things in life with a sharp humour. Chris, although his content is much more practical based and relies on football—they were able to bond over the creating of content.

— She used to hesitate telling a man about her having a child. Now she has learnt that her daughter will be the most important person in her life and if a man didn’t adhere to that? Screw them!

— To her surprise, Chris was intrigued about her daughter, asking questions and even keen to hear stories and look at pictures.

— After a few dates, that made Y/N feel safe in their relationship, Chris came home to meet her daughter. They hit it off—taking about all sorts of fictional characters, foods and even grandad’s favourite football team.

— Y/N’s daughter adhered to Chris quickly, often questioning “Where is Chris?” When he didn’t come home with her.

— Chris invited her to a shoot for his main channel. It was the first time any of his friends had met her. It was safe to say they grew dear to her (and vice versa) very quickly. She slotted into the contrasting content with ease.

— Chris celebrated her daughter’s 6th birthday in style. Hiring out a great big hall, staying up all the night before to decorate the hall to perfection. He spent money secretly on entertainment like balloon makers, animals and a karaoke machine. This was only a few months into their relationship.

— It had been 10 months since their first date, and he finally moved into their home. He moved in gradually, staying over a few nights to adjust to the school run (which he was ever so happy to do) and bedtime routines with a schoolgirl in the house. However, after a little while of doing that, he made the full leap. It only got better from there.

— After a week of Chris being fully moved in, Chris was stunned to hear Y/N’s daughter call him Daddy. It was never something she asked could she do, nor something that she was pressured into saying. Chris was chuffed—he immediately bought her some sweets to celebrate the special moment.

— Chris acquired Y/N’s daughter to help with their marriage proposal— a simplistic approach on their first family holiday. It was one of the most important moments in Y/N’s life but still one of the easiest decisions of her life.

— Chris was always awkward in calling Y/N’s daughter his—she reassured him that there was nothing she wanted more.

— Their wedding was filled with an overwhelming sense of camaraderie within their family and friends. It was a day to not only celebrate the notable love of Chris and Y/N but also to celebrate the friends and family who gave their everything to the family.

— After they got hitched Chris was on the ball with watching The Lord Of The Rings with the two girls as it was Y/N’s promise to him after their marriage. (Their daughter was dressed as Frodo for Halloween.)

— A year later, Baby Dixon was arriving. One week before their baby boy was born, Chris was suprised with adoption papers for Y/N’s daughter. He had never let go of so much emotion before.

#sidemen #willne #chrismd #harry w2s #ethan payne #chris dixon #harry lewis #george clarkeey #georgeclarke #stephen tries #chrismd x reader #chrismd x you #uk youtubers #ukyt #headcanon #headcanons #w2s

119 notes · View notes

mistress-riddle · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐁𝐘.

✐ 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

cw. tommy shelby x mother! reader. reader has a daughter and tommy is not the father lol. mostly fluff and humour, tommy beefs with an almost 5 year old but what’s new?

"sweetheart, are you ready?" [name]'s voice rang throughout the house as she finished placing her coat over her outfit, rummaging through her purse to see if she had enough money to do her shopping shortly after.

"yes, mummy!" came the reply from her daughter in a sweet childish voice as she ran up to her mother who held her arms wide open for her baby to run into and balance on her waist.

she took sight of dana's face with her chubby cheeks and felt overwhelming affection cross through her "come here!" giggles erupted into the air as [name] peppered kisses all over the little girls face.

"alright, little bug," she says as she sets her down and looks directly at her "we need to go to the market but before that we'll go and see mister curly, is that good?" she asks the girl and in return receives a nod of glee.

"good, let's go!"

hand in hand, [name] and her daughter exited their house, arms swinging merrily as they made their way to the stables curly worked in. it was fate that they stumbled upon the place during one of their strolls intended to familiarise themselves around the city, having just moved to small heath less than 4 months ago after the death of the patriarch of the family.

small heath, despite its unpleasant parts (it seemed quite grime and dirty most of the times), had its charms. the people were alright — curly was friendly! — and it was not extremely hectic like london was. at least she thought so, she heard about something called "peaky blinders" mentioned every now and again but they were usually in hushed whispers and she found that it did not concern her as she lived peacefully with her daughter.

"good morning, mister curly!" [name] greeted curly upon their arrival. dana was quick to detach from her mother and approach curly with an eager smile and hug. the kind man took it in stride and with an equally jovial smile and he was quick to lead the young girl to the beautiful horse snacking on the scattered hay before it.

"a good morning to you too, missus [surname]" he replied shortly after, tipping his head in greeting like a gentlemen and a smile made it's way onto the widows face as she turned to look at dana rubbing her face against one of the horses fur.

"dana, we won't spend long here alright?" a pout formed on her daughters lips at the declaration and [name] mentally prepared herself to win whatever argument that would rise from her daughter.

"okay, mummy." the girl sighed in defeat and [name] approached her to press a kiss on the crown of her head for being an obedient child before she pat the horse her child was caressing.

"what was he called again, love?" [name] asked as she turned to look down at her daughter who smiled brightly. she loved animals but horses in particular seemed to have caught her little self's attention.

"he's moby, mummy," dana said, hands resting on her waist much like her mum would often do "you should know that."

"I forgot sweetheart, must be turning old." she chuckles and checks her watch before patting her daughters shoulder "now, let's get going, honey."

"goodbye mister curly!" dana waves at the man who waves back and [name] gives a milder wave of her own. the two begin to walk slowly to the market as the mother starts to instruct dana.

"hold onto my hand or coat at all times, okay?" she tells her daughter.

"yes, mummy."

"I don't want you to get lost, babygirl. I'll get you a treat for being a good girl, alright?" [name] pinches her cheek when they arrive at a stand in the market and she starts checking the items being sold as the man behind the cart occupies her attention.

dana's attention, however, is captured by the neighing of a horse nearby and she gasps at the sight of moby striding through the streets with an unfamiliar man settled upon him. she is quick to leave her mothers side to get a better look at the man who stole moby. once he catches sight of her, he slows the horse to warn the young girl.

"out of the way, love." he says. voice gruff and so unlike the tone her mum would use to warn her and so dana stubbornly shakes her head and crosses her arms. he watches her as she watches him, a deep frown settled on her lips and eyebrows set in passionate defiance. anyone could see that the girl was not going to comply with anything and so the man sighs and mounts off the horse. he holds the reigns in his hand as he begins to head towards the girl with the horse following and takes his place in front of her, kneeling down to meet her gaze.

"can you move out the way, please?" he repeats, tone much softer this time. the girl still shakes her head and the mysterious man wearing a peaked cap shuts his eyes in annoyance.

the words she says causes him to flash his eyes open-

"sir, that horse is not yours."

she says it with so much confidence and certainty that he finds himself confused as she points towards the horse planted firmly behind him.

"pardon?" he asks, bafflement evident on his expression.

"how can you steal him from mister curly? mummy told me stealing is very rude and not nice. so, stealing from mister curly is very rude and very mean. what if I went into your house and stole something important from you, would you not be sad? because I know I would."

in the midst of this occurring, the citizens of small heath take in the spectacle before them. eyes trained and mouths agape at the sight of the most dangerous man in birmingham being scolded by someone, nevermind a little girl, about stealing of all things.

tommy's face relaxes "first off, this is my horse," he claims, running a hand down monaghan boy's head "second, where's your mummy?"

"she's shopping" she quickly answers, dismissing him "but I'm here to stop you from stealing moby, mister thief."

"moby? mister. thief?" tommy repeats in mild amusement as his brow arches.

"dana, sweetheart, where are you?" [name]'s voice calls out and she breaks through the crowd to see a man kneeling with a hand shoved into his pocket in front of her highly irritated daughter.

"what's going on here?" she asks as she arrives to stand behind her daughter with her hands pulling her by her collarbones, hugging her body close to her torso in protection as mild panic settled onto her pretty features.

"I'm assuming you're the mum?" the man asks as he stands up straight and [name] takes this opportunity to scan his appearance thoroughly. he was a good looking man, seemingly based on the attire he bode, she took notice of the cigarette he almost wore as an accessory.

"you're right, is there a problem?" she confirms and levels his gaze despite how piercing it was.

"this little girl-" the man was interrupted by dana turning in her arms with angry tears threatening to spill from her eyelids "mummy, this man stole moby from mister curly and he's not wanting to give him back!"

[name]'s eyebrows pinch together as she looks down at her daughter before lifting her head to see the man roll his eyes.

"miss," he interjects "your daughter will not allow me to pass despite my ownership of the horse, curly is my employee." he clarifies but dana just turns to [name] to rebut as she's not convinced.

"mummy, tell curly to come here and see if this man is telling the truth." the older woman was about to deny her request but dana widened her doe eyes and persisted and so, [name] sighed as she told her to stay in her spot before hurrying over to the stables nearby.

"I don't have time for this." tommy goes to move but dana screams in protest and he freezes.

"stop that." he demands the girl and she sticks her tongue out at him and if this situation wasn't a bit irritable on his behalf, he would have laughed but that didn't stop the half scoff, half chuckle from leaving his lips.

"fine, I'll stay until 'mister curly' shows up." dana moves closer to the man to pat the horse.

"it's fine moby, I'll save you from this mean man." she says in a loud whisper and tommy merely raises an eyebrow at her.

"alright everyone, keep moving." he claps his hands together beckoning the onlookers to briskly walk away and proceed their previous activities.

"I'm so sorry, sir." curly limps over to the man who just nods as a sign of dismissal of the apology and motions to the child clutching onto the horse.

"dana, come 'ere." curly takes the girl away to explain to her and [name] stands before the man and offers him an apology of her own.

"I'm very sorry, mister shelby?" she says with a bit of an intonation at the end and the man nods "we're new here and not really sure as to how this place works, I'm very sorry if my daughter offended you in any way and ask you to forgive her for she is merely a child."

"I'm not a monster," he chuckles at the questioning look "despite what you might've heard... anyhow, she's loyal and wants to stop something bad from happening to someone or something she loves, you raised her good." he nods, as if agreeing with himself and looks at the girl who was walking guiltily over to the two and [name] gives a small smile in return.

"thank you, is there anyway we could make it up to you?" she asked, picking up her daughter to rest on her hip.

"well, I'd like an apology from this little lass" he taps the tip of dana's nose and she crinkles it cutely in response "and an address from you." he says after a bit of a pause.

"address?" [name] inquires, confused and intrigued as well as worried.

"fear not, I'm not the grim reaper coming for your souls." he smirked as he caught [name] looking apologetic at her hesitance, lower lip released from the clutch her teeth had against it "I'd like to invite you both to an event."

"I see," [name] smiles with a nod before whispering in dana's ear something and the little girl looks at the man with a frown on her lips.

"I'm sorry for saying bad things about you mister, it was wrong of me and I'm very, very sorry." she looks at him with teary eyes.

"you're alright," he pinches dana's cheeks softly "I'm sure moby would appreciate you trying to protect him."

"can I still see him?" she asks, hope lacing her words and the man nods.

"thank you, sir!"

"thank you a lot, mister shelby."

"anytime, miss?"

"[surname], [name] [surname]." she flashes him a smile before taking her leave with her daughter still in her arms who gives the man a big smile that has him returning a smaller one.

#⊹ . ˚ ୨୧ — mimi writes #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby scenario #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders

660 notes · View notes

atleastpleasetelephone · 7 months ago

Text

Little Darling

Chapter 5 - The man I used to be

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 5.6K

TWs: Angst, crying, angry!Elvis, self-esteem issues all-round, erectile dysfunction, body worship, praise kink, some smutty bits.

A/N: This is a difficult chapter for a number of reasons - there's a lot going on and a lot of complex emotions. Thanks to everyone who has commented and re-blogged so far, comments are life so the more I get the happier I am! And I know if you're enjoying it.

Elvis spends the next day wondering what he’s doing with Tegan. He sits at the piano, mid-afternoon, running through some scales and a few snatches of songs. He looks around the empty living room. It’s harder to get a house full of people nowadays. The guys are older and they spend more time with their families than they used to. He can get plenty of people round for an event - the barbeque the other weekend proved that - but there’s not the constant presence of guys and fans and family like back in the seventies or even the eighties. The divorce had coincided with a slow drift of people out of his life and into their own. Lisa doesn’t even stay in Graceland when she’s back in Memphis, even though he’d tried asking her to. She’s working on her new relationship, and she wants to spend time with her boyfriend when she’s in Memphis, not with her dad.

For the first time in a long time, Elvis realises he’s lonely. He’s been keeping himself busy for years now with the karate schools, but he can’t stay in Memphis for more than a month at a time. It’s hard to persuade someone to come round for dinner every night; sometimes he has to eat alone. He’s kept moving so he barely notices, but sitting in the living room at Graceland, silent save for his absent-minded piano tinkling, he realises how much he craves company. Last night had gone by so quickly, Tegan was so easy to talk to and her skin was so soft. He’s missed more than just conversation and company. He’s missed sex too. He had liked playing with her and finding out what turns her on, and he had liked watching her lose herself to pleasure too.

He puts the lid down on the piano and rests his elbows on it, head in his hands. He remembers calling her a needy thing because she wanted to see him before Tuesday. He groans. He wants to see her right now, and he wants to keep her here with him forever. It hurts, being here alone, being without her, wanting her so badly. The loneliness that he’d been holding at bay for so long comes crashing through his defences, hitting him like a tidal wave. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and run down his nose, splashing on the piano lid. Fuck.

“Daddy?”

He’d been so wrapped up in his own sadness he hadn’t noticed the sound of the door closing and when he looks up he sees Lisa standing there, with Riley and Ben. He quickly wipes his eyes and stands up.

“Hey! How are my two favourite grandkids, hm?”

Riley rolls her eyes, letting him hug her. “We’re your only grandkids, Elvis.”

He looks up at Lisa. “She got this from you, y’know. Callin’ me Elvis.”

Lisa laughs and tells both kids to go and raid the kitchen for lunch.

Riley runs off towards the kitchen immediately but Ben pauses, unsure. He tugs Elvis’ sleeve. Elvis bends down and picks him up easily, cuddling the little boy to him and kissing the top of his head.

“What’s up, punk?”

Lisa snorts at her dad calling her son “punk”.

“Have you been crying?” Ben puts a little hand against Elvis’ face and stares into his eyes with grave concern.

“Little bit.”

“Why?”

Elvis lets out a huff of air. Why had he been crying? “Jus’ felt a little sad, s’all.” He brushes Ben’s hair back off his forehead. “Much happier now you’re here.” He squeezes the little boy tightly and then looks at him again to see how that statement fell.

Ben’s big eyes still look worried. Lisa thinks he’s way too worried, always, for a five year old.

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I’m better now you and Riley are here? Of course I’m sure. Why dontcha go help ya sister find some lunch, hm? Mary’ll help ya. Ya must be hungry, growin’ little fella like you?”

Ben nods solemnly and allows himself to be put down, walking slowly and purposefully to the kitchen. Elvis frowns a little. “Are ya sure he’s five and not fifty five, Yis?”

She sighs and puts an arm around her dad, laying her head on his shoulder. “Well he’s very perceptive for a five year old, I’ll give him that. You ok?”

“Think anyone coulda seen me cryin’ back there. Even a little kid.”

His arm goes around her too, pulling her close.

“You okay?” She asks again.

Elvis makes a sort of grumbling noise and moves to sit on the sofa. Lisa sits next to him and waits patiently for a response. Or, as patiently as she can. When another two minutes of strange silence have passed she huffs and pokes him in the side.

“You gonna tell me?”

“Not gonna get away without, am I?” He mutters. “Lonely here, Yis. On my own a lot.”

“What about Tegan?”

“Saw her last night.” His face breaks into a smile. “She came for dinner.”

Lisa sits up and grins. “And?”

The smile continues to play on his lips as he thinks about her on his lap all night, talking to him about her tattoos. “It was good.”

“Good? Is that it?!”

“I like her, Yis. I really like her. But she’s so much younger, I jus’... I dunno.”

Lisa shakes her head. “Don’t see what difference that makes. She’s not Stella, or mom. She’s her own person. You have to give it a try on its own terms.”

“‘M tryin’.”

“Why don’t you invite her round for lunch now?”

He shakes his head. “‘M try’na take it slow.”

Lisa falls back against the sofa cushions with a bump, sighing loudly. “Why?”

Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Because I don’t wanna fuck it up, okay?” He stands up and starts to move towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat if the locusts haven’t got ta everythin’ already.”

Lisa watches him go, and then realises she’s hungry too and gets up herself. She’s surprised at her dad taking anything slowly, but perhaps he knows what he’s doing. She supposes she’ll have to wait and see.

***

“Ya need to really protect yourself with yer arms. No. C’mere.” Elvis stands in front of Tegan, a forearm in each hand, and manoeuvres them around as she steps back. “Y’see?”

She tries hard to keep a straight face but she can’t help giggling. “Yeah… kinda.”

Elvis puts on a mock-serious face. “No laughin’ at karate. ‘Sa serious sport.”

Still trying not to laugh, she attempts the block again, but when he grabs one of her arms and moves it where it’s supposed to go she fails and starts giggling.

“C’mon. Again. On yer own.”

Letting out a breath, she tries to compose herself. “O-okay. So, like… this?”

He shrugs a little and gives his head a little shake. “Better than it was before. Practise at home. Now, step forward and snap punch. No… mid-chest. C’mon. Really try an’ punch me. That’s better.”

He makes her go through the two step move a few more times and then tells her and the rest of the group that they can go and get another drink. She gulps down some water and then passes the bottle to Maria.

“You two are getting on well,” Maria observes with a wry smile.

Tegan can’t help smiling back. “Yeah. I went to Graceland for dinner at the weekend.”

“You did?” Maria’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “You didn’t mention it!”

“Well, I know you’re not keen.”

“Oh T, it’s not that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Tegan nods slowly. “I know.” She’s about to continue when Elvis calls them back to class. “I’ll tell you later.”

When the class finishes the rest of the students file out and Elvis realises only Tegan and Maria are left. Maria realises too, telling her friend she’ll see her in the car and giving Elvis a quick wave. Tegan picks up her bag as he makes his way towards her, a broad smile on his face.

“Ya need ta practice more at home,” he tells her, forefinger under her chin, tipping her face towards his so he can press a soft kiss to her lips.

“Maybe I need some private tuition?”

He takes his sunglasses off and holds her face firmly in his hand, kissing her deeply. Her hands make their way around his neck as she presses her body against his.

“Ya can come home with me right now an’ I’ll teach ya some things…” he mumbles against her lips, intoxicated by the feel of her, the way she smells.

“Yes please.”

He pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, panting a little. “I shouldna said that.”

She pouts a little. “Why?”

“I’m tryna take this slow.”

She groans. “Well don’t kiss me like that then!”

“Sorry, honey. Got carried away. Yer always makin’ me get carried away…” he strokes her cheek gently with his finger.

“Maybe that means something? Maybe you should just… get carried away.”

He giggles, his apple cheeks prominent as he looks down at her. “Temptin’. But ya should go home, sure ya have work in the mornin’…”

“Well, yeah. You still coming for dinner at the weekend?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

“Okay, see you then.”

***

Elvis enjoys dinner at Tegan’s apartment. She cooks him a roast and he teases her about nearly all of the components, but he gobbles down the whole plate and asks for seconds. She even manages to persuade him to try a gin and tonic, although he doesn’t ask for a second one of those. They talk and joke around and at some point the teasing turns to touching and he’s making her cum on her sofa this time. She asks again, but he’s still not interested in getting anything in return. Their relationship continues like this for weeks - they see one another on Saturday nights and at karate, they get closer, but not too close. He gives her an orgasm every time he sees her, but he won’t even take his shirt off, never mind let her touch his dick. He brings her flowers and trinkets, but he’s afraid to take her out in public in case they’re hounded by the press. She loves being with him, but she feels like he keeps her at arm’s length. She’s fully in this, but it’s like he’s just standing in the shallow end, watching her.

She doesn’t feel like she can tell Maria, so when her friend asks she just says everything’s going well, they’re taking it slowly, getting to know each other. But she’s not sure how much longer she can keep waiting for him to feel more comfortable with her, or want to dive right in the deep end and lose control. She can’t understand what’s holding him back, and is trying to work out how to broach the subject with him at Graceland that evening, when the phone rings unexpectedly and it's Elvis inviting her to the zoo. First of all she thinks he’s joking, and then when she realises he’s not she agrees enthusiastically. She does love animals, and they will actually be seen together in person. Perhaps she’s been patient enough, and she doesn’t need to talk to him at all. Things have just worked out on their own. He tells her he’ll pick her up in half an hour and she hurries to get ready.

***

“Honey, ya need ta know somethin’,” Elvis tells her as she gets into the car and he kisses her hello.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ya might be in the papers tomorrow. If someone spots us an’ takes a photo…”

She shrugs. How bad could it be? “Okay, cool.”

He stares at her intensely for a moment. “They could say all kindsa things about ya. Jus’ want ya ta be prepared.”

She nods. “Okay.”

Elvis doesn’t think she’s taking him seriously enough but he’s not sure what else he can say.

She sees him frowning a little and kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Take me to the zoo!”

***

Tegan enjoys the zoo until the paparazzi arrive. She’d thought that because there was hardly anyone outside Graceland anymore and people in the karate classes treated him mostly as if his being there was completely normal, that the press wasn’t bothered about Elvis Presley anymore. Boy was she wrong. Someone had obviously tipped them off, and from the penguin enclosure onwards they were harassed by men with cameras and reporters shouting questions. Wanting to know who she was, how they met, how long they’d been together, did they plan to get married? Had she met his daughter, was she the same age as his daughter, what were they doing at the zoo? And another million intrusive questions that Elvis starts off answering politely and eventually instructs Sonny to answer “no comment” to, on his behalf.

“Goddamnit,” he hisses, as they finally get back into the car. He pulls the curtains so that no-one can see in through the windows and Sonny drives them this time. “I knew it’d be bad. Didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

Tegan feels a little overwhelmed herself but Elvis is her main concern. He’s gripping one of her hands tightly and sweat is running down his face as he mumbles about the paparazzi and the damn reporters.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his thigh.

He huffs air out of his nose like a furious bull. “None of their goddamn business. Any of it.”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t get upset.”

He abruptly lets go of her hand and springs back from her. “Don’t get upset!” He exclaims, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. “Don’t get upset! Goddamn.”

Tegan isn’t going to be put off that easily. “I just mean, don’t let them get to you like this. I don’t like to see you so upset.”

She rubs his arm now, in the same gentle but firm way.

“Well it doesn’t matter what ya like, does it?” He spits. “I’m fucking upset.”

It’s Tegan’s turn to spring back now, eyes flaming. “Don’t fucking take it out on me!”

Sonny looks at the curtain in the rearview mirror, not that it reveals anything. He’d warned Elvis about going to the zoo in the middle of the day, but to be fair not even he had thought it would be this bad. Both of them were unused to the ferocity of the paparazzi, even in Memphis. He’s surprised that Tegan bit back though. He had thought of her as a little timid for some reason.

They stare at one another for a while, both furious but neither able to decide the next move. Elvis can’t remember the last time a woman yelled at him and he’s shocked into silence, and Tegan is furious about the way he spoke to her, and isn’t about to back down. She didn’t like his tone just then and it was making her want to tell Sonny to pull the car over so she could get out.

Eventually Elvis huffs loudly and turns away from her, staring straight ahead at the curtain, realises that it’s still closed and opens it with a grunt. Daylight pours into the back of the car and Tegan squints and looks around for her sunglasses.

“Sorry,” Elvis mutters sheepishly, when he thinks she’s suitably occupied digging about in her handbag.

She pauses, then looks over at him. “It’s okay.”

He takes a few steadying breaths and then looks at her properly. “Ya were right, I was takin’ it out on ya. Ya were only tryna calm me down.”

Sliding her sunglasses on, she looks over at him. “I know. You were being an arse.”

Sonny catches Elvis’ eye in the mirror and all three of them burst out laughing. Elvis doesn’t think anyone has ever called him an arse before, but he has to admire her for doing it.

“Yer lucky I’m lettin’ ya get away with that,” he replies, winking behind his glasses.

They drive back to Graceland, and Sonny and his wife join them for dinner. Tegan has met Sonny’s wife a couple of times and is getting to like her, and Judy is fond of the younger woman too. Her and Sonny had both remarked to each other, and Elvis himself, how much happier he seems lately, and Judy wants to make sure he stays that way almost as much as her husband does. They all watch a little TV together and play some cards, and Tegan is happy to spend some time with people who’ll actually drink with her. Although, as she watches Sonny finish off his fourth bourbon rocks, she wonders who is going to drive her home.

Judy yawns delicately and then gives Sonny a sharp elbow in the side. He looks around a little slowly, his reactions dulled by all the bourbon.

“Huh? Oh…” he looks over at Elvis and Tegan, who are cuddled up on the sofa at this point. “I uh… think we should be getting home.”

“Oh.” Elvis suddenly clocks that Sonny is drunk and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get Tegan home. “Yeah, sure. Thanks fer comin’.”

They get up and say their goodbyes, and once they’ve left Elvis turns to Tegan. “I spose I better drive ya, honey.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and then slides them down over his chest. “Or… I could stay over?”

He can feel his face getting red thinking about her seeing him naked. It had been a very long time since a woman had seen him naked.

“I…um…”

She starts to slowly unbutton his shirt, moving to press soft kisses to the skin she uncovers there. His chest hair is white like the hair on his head, and she’s seen it before underneath his gi. But she hasn’t ever got to touch it, and she can’t help running her fingers through it as she continues to unbutton his shirt. He feels like he’s completely frozen on the spot, just watching her as she carries on with her little touches and kisses until his shirt is hanging open.

“Please?” She puts her head to one side and tries to look cute.

His breathing is uneven as he stares down at her, still unable to formulate a response. She gently pushes his shirt off his shoulders and encourages his arms out of the sleeves. He stands in front of her, topless, watching as she presses yet more kisses up his arms and across his chest. His eyes flick uneasily down to his belly, which isn’t exactly small these days, but that gets kisses too, and gentle touches, and he can feel himself melting.

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay,” he finally replies, trying to get some of the upper hand back by sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

She giggles, her arms around his neck, pleased at being literally swept off her feet. He manages to open the door to his bedroom without putting her down, and she stares around it in wonder, squinting into the darkness.

“I’ll put a lamp on,” he mumbles, putting her down carefully and moving over to the side of the bed, flicking a switch.

It doesn’t get much lighter in the room, but she can see the size of the bed which is almost unreal. She shivers a little. It’s not exactly warm; it seems like he has the AC on full blast. He looks over at her nervously, but she’s still occupied looking around, so he moves over to one of the sets of drawers and searches for some pyjamas. He’d be more comfortable in them and probably so would she. It takes him a few minutes to locate a couple of sets and when he turns back his mouth actually drops open looking at her. She’s standing there, completely naked, looking over at him.

“H-honey… I… yer…” he can’t make the words come out of his mouth. He’s seen everything before but not all at once, and it’s kind of overwhelming. “Yer naked,” he finally manages.

She giggles. “Yeah I know. This is how I sleep. And walk around the apartment sometimes too.”

His eyes somehow get even wider. “Ya walk around like that? I don’t think ya should…”

She shrugs and then rubs her arms with her hands, melodramatically. “I’m getting cold. Why don’t you come over here and warm me up?”

“Well if ya were wearin’ clothes…” he starts, but he’s walking towards her anyway, and she cuts him off with a kiss, pressing her naked body up against his. He moans into her mouth. Her skin feels so good against his, he can even feel those little metal bars in her nipples, a tiny touch of cold. His hand spreads across her back, pulling her in even closer, but somehow he doesn’t stop her wandering hands. One skates down his back but the other sneaks between them and before he can do anything, she’s squeezing his still soft dick. She barely reacts when she doesn’t find what she was expecting, but he almost leaps backwards like he’s been burnt.

“Ah…uh… I’m s-sorry baby… it’s not you… I-I-I…”

“Hey. It’s okay,” she tries to reply but he darts off into the ensuite, pyjamas in hand.

Tegan sits on the bed for a moment, looking at the closed door and wondering if he plans on hiding out in the bathroom all night. She supposes he won’t, but honestly she can’t tell. The coldness of the room persuades her under the covers, and she wonders what he’s going to say when he eventually comes back into the room again. She was only a little surprised to find him so soft when she touched him. It made sense really, when she thought back over the past few weeks that they’d been together. He never wanted her to return the favour when he gave her an orgasm, he was so awkward about the relationship in the first place, and he never wanted to let her take his clothes off. The look on his face after she’d touched him, the way he’d jumped away from her… it hurts her heart. She just wants to give him pleasure like he’s been giving her for all these weeks, but he seems so damaged about the whole thing. She frowns. It’s not as if he’s the first guy she’s been with who hasn’t been able to get it up sometimes.

Elvis gets changed shakily, then stands in his pyjamas, gripping the sink with both hands and staring into the mirror. Stupid old man, he thinks. She’ll never be interested now she knows your dick doesn’t work. For a while he seriously considers sleeping on the bathroom floor, but then he realises he can’t get around going back into the bedroom and facing Tegan. He opens the door slowly, walking into the room almost sheepishly.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. This is turning into a day of apologies.

She pulls the covers back, exposing her naked body to him. He can’t help but look at it hungrily, despite what had just happened. “C’mere.” She pats the mattress next to her.

“I hope you’re sorry about running off, not anything else?” She asks as he gets in cautiously.

“Sure I disappointed ya.”

Lying on his back, unable to look at her.

“I’m not disappointed,” she replies, curling her body around his. “I’ve been looking forward to waking up with you.”

“Thought ya might’ve wanted somethin’ else,” he mutters.

Her hand rubs his chest, then moves to his belly. She feels him tense and starts to kiss his neck as her hand keeps touching him.

“I want to make you feel good, ‘raur. I’m not in a rush to do anything else.”

He sighs. “Don’t think that’s really possible.”

“Sure you’re not just out of practice?”

Elvis groans and closes his eyes, willing the conversation away. This is not something he wants to be talking about with anyone, let alone a girl twenty years his junior.

“Jus’ leave it.”

Tegan doesn’t really want to just leave it, she wants to understand it and find a way to fix it. But Elvis clearly isn’t in the headspace for that kind of conversation right now, so she decides to try a different tack.

“God, you smell so good.” Burying her face in his chest, she breathes him in.

He can’t help his lips curling into a half-smile. “Really, Queenie?”

She flicks the top button of his pyjamas open and presses kisses to the exposed skin there, her hand running over his nipple through the shirt.

“You haven’t called me that in a while. And yes, really.”

He hums with pleasure, his hand running through her hair as she keeps kissing and praising him.

“You’re so strong, it’s so sexy.”

“Huh?” He’s blushing a little but he doesn’t want her to stop.

“Carrying me up the stairs.” She looks up at him as she deftly undoes another button. “Very sexy.”

He feels her hand inside his shirt now, rubbing and touching. She pinches a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and gets a low moan in response.

“Q-Queenie…”

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.”

She quickly undoes all of the rest of the buttons, and for the second time that evening his shirt is hanging open and her hands and mouth are all over his torso. He lets out a soft sigh and when her hand moves down under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms he doesn’t stop it. She slowly slides his foreskin back and forth, squeezing a little and feeling him start to respond. Her mouth and other hand continue their ministrations on his belly and chest, hoping to distract him from worrying about what his dick might be doing. She feels him getting harder and pushes his pants down so she can get at him more easily, sliding her mouth over the head and giving him little kitten licks. He moans, looking down at her for a moment and then looking away, disgusted by his own body again. His erection starts to fade and he screws his eyes shut and huffs in frustration. She tries to stimulate him for a little longer, but it’s clear it’s not coming back, so she stops, pulling his pyjama bottoms up carefully and leaning her head back on his chest.

He can’t speak. He doesn’t know whether not being able to get it up at all, or having half an erection that went away when he thought about it too much was worse. Both things were horribly embarrassing, and he can only imagine she’ll leave at the first opportunity, and not want to see him again.

“We should sleep,” he says, turning over and dislodging her.

He switches the light off and she stares, confused, into the dark from her position on her back.

“We can try again in the morning,” she suggests, quietly.

“Hmmm.”

She still wants to push it, but she knows she shouldn’t. This is too delicate. She wishes she could tell him that she doesn’t care, even if he never gets another erection she’d still want him more than she’s ever wanted anyone, but that seems too much. The intensity of her feelings for him seems like too much, considering how long they’ve known one another. She hasn’t told anyone how she feels; she’s convinced Maria would try and get her committed if she knew. She rolls onto her other side and tries to get to sleep. They can try again in the morning.

***

Neither of them sleep that well. Even though the bed is huge, they’ve both got used to sleeping on their own and someone else being there is disturbing. Elvis sleeps particularly badly, unable to stop himself wondering what Tegan must think and whether she’ll ever want to see him again. He looks at her as she lies there, peacefully, and wonders what on earth she’s doing in his bed. She could do a lot better.

“Oh, hi there, gorgeous,” she murmurs as she opens her eyes and sees him leaning over, looking at her.

He carefully moves her hair out of her eyes. “Mornin’ beautiful.”

Her face breaks into a smile. “Mmmmm. Come here.” Pulling his face towards hers, kissing him deeply.

He shifts, rolling on top of her and relishing the feeling of her hands underneath his unbuttoned shirt, running up and down his back. She lets one trail a little lower, grabbing a handful of his ass and pushing her hips up into his. He can feel himself getting harder, his dick is always a little more cooperative in the morning and something about her body and his drowsy state is turning him on. The thoughts that had plagued him during the night drift away and his head feels pleasantly empty. He finds himself starting to kiss and nip at her neck as she pushes his pyjama bottoms down, feeling him now too. She moves her legs to wrap them around his waist, and as his dick rubs against her pussy she feels delicious pleasure building between her legs. Drowsy too and not caring how she gets there, she moans softly at the feeling. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying rolling his hips against her, feeling like a teenager again. But he wants more. Moving back a little, he lines himself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip before starting to push inside.

But it’s not just Elvis who hasn’t done this in a long time, and Tegan almost yelps at the intrusion. She’s tight at the best of times, and with no warm up and no lube it’s almost impossible.

“Oh!” She cries out, shifting back from him instinctively.

The moment it happens, his erection fades.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Elvis, I’m sorry…” she begins, but he just covers himself up again and rolls off her and then out of the bed.

“Ya want breakfast? Mary’ll make ya eggs. Or… whatever ya want. Come down when yer ready.”

She stares as he takes a robe off the door and wraps it around himself and then just walks out of the room. She feels humiliated and confused. Okay, yeah, he’d gone soft. Embarrassing. But she’d been too small for him, or too tight, or not turned on enough… she gets up slowly, putting on her clothes from the day before. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed in bed and held her for a while. In fact, she’d have liked it. She wishes that’s what he’d done, rather than leaving her like this. Checking her hair in the bathroom mirror, she sighs at her reflection. Maybe if she was more attractive this would all have been easier.

Walking slowly down the stairs, she looks around again. So opulent. But so quiet. So lonely. When she gets to the kitchen she finds Elvis staring at the Sunday papers.

Has-been Presley dating woman half his age.

The headline is big, and as she gets nearer she can see a lot of unflattering photos of both of them. Then she sees some of the text of the article.

Washed up King of Rock n Roll, Elvis Presley, was seen today at Memphis Zoo with a woman young enough to be his daughter. A far cry from the attractive starlets he used to be seen with, the unknown female is hardly a looker.

“Oh wow,” Tegan says, quietly. It’s one thing to know you’re not Helen of Troy, and it’s another thing to see it written there in black and white.

Elvis had been staring at the paper for a while now, and every so often some of the words had gone in. He knew there would be a nasty story about them, but he’s unused to the reality of it after so long. And he didn’t expect them to be quite this cruel about Tegan. Hearing her voice he’s suddenly spurred into action, tearing out the pages and screwing them up, hurling them across the room.

“Fucking assholes,” he shouts.

She puts a hand on his arm. “Elvis, it’s okay.” She doesn’t even really believe herself at this point, after everything that’s already happened this morning, but she feels she has to say something.

“The things they wrote about ya… it’s my fault.” He turns to her and shakes his head sorrowfully. “Ya better go.”

“What?”

“Ya better go. I’m no good for ya. Jus’ go.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“I do.”

Tegan tries begging and pleading with him, tries rationalising the situation, tries to ask why and persuade him to talk. But none of it works. He just keeps repeating that she ought to go and she’d be better off without him. It's like he's shut down completely. Despite his previous pronouncement that cabs don’t come to Graceland, he calls her one and sends her off in it. He won’t even kiss her goodbye. She sits there on the backseat trying to figure out exactly what the fuck had just happened, how she’d gone from him rutting against her in the bed one minute to throwing her out the next. And then she gets home and just cries. And cries. And wonders how the fuck she’s going to get her life back.

***

Part 6

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #bde #big daddy elvis #old man elvis

82 notes · View notes

stars-and-the-min · 1 year ago

Text

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (7) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n switch out one shitty ex for a slightly less shitty one

masterlist | last part | part 7 | next part

ARTICLE

Revisiting 'Twelve More Days' : How Empty Bottles Spun Their Signature Sound on its Head on Tour April 12, 2024 · Written by Catherine Moore

Almost halfway through the Asian leg of their world tour, it's finally time to talk about what the pandemic-era rock band Empty Bottles has been up to. For greener artists, it's the cookie-cutter way to stick to a genre that has previously worked and give the masses what they want but instead, Empty Bottles have taken their 2022 sophomore sensation 'Twelve More Days' and tweaked the songs for their world tour.

Long-time fans of the Sydney-born band are familiar with the classic rock elements that brought Empty Bottles into the spotlight; claiming influence from fellow Sydneysiders 5 Seconds of Summer, Arctic Monkeys and other croony rock artists, so it was a rather big surprise for critics and fans alike when the album opened with a much softer, hypnotising approach.

The even bigger surprise was the creative and musical approach they took with their tour. As noted by various critics back during the album release, 'Twelve More Days' had a not-so-subtle jazz flavour to their sound, and the band seems to have embraced the jazz-rock sound by opening their tour with a speakeasy-style set, complete with the band decked out in snazzy 1930s reminiscent suits and frontwoman Selina Bui in glittery minidresses, opera gloves and a thematic vintage ribbon microphone.

Despite close to three years since she last performed in front of a live audience, Bui took to the stage like a fish to water, instantly entrancing her audience with her universally acknowledged rich sirenic vocals, drawing in the attention and sending the venue back to a 1930s speakeasy. Strangely, she performs this part of the show without her trusty guitar, leaving the grunt work on the other lead guitarist, talented Lukas Zhang, who delivers without a hiccup with no twin guitar to help cover any mistakes.

Quite a few of the sophomore album's songs are given a jazz-rock twist that nobody could have predicted. Other already jazz-influenced songs - namely deluxe track number 13 'money talks' and track 6 'typo' - have been breathed to life, as well as a couple of songs from the band's debut album 'overtime'.

Empty Bottles then returns after a brief intermission with their award-winning pop-rock sound, spending the rest of the set in much more familiar-looking leather jackets and t-shirts and a guitar returned to Bui's hand. Bui, very well known for having an interesting sense of humour, made the choice of returning to the stage with the fitting song choice of 'do you remember me?'. One thing you have to give the 22-year-old is that she really does know how to pick her moments, and the now-iconic first chords of the cocky, energetic track are enough to send the crowd screaming.

The exploration into the many subgenres of what is considered rock 'n' roll has always been a very fuzzy point of conversation, and it's been an honour seeing Empty Bottles have fun playing jump rope over that line. What makes this tour such a raving success is their perfect balance of experimentation and keeping to what is tried and true for them; the classic, hard-hitting, no-nonsense, inane-lyricism rock coupled magnetically with Bui's captivating execution on stage.

Would you find me at one of their shows again? Absolutely, there was truly nothing more thrilling than the first moments you see Selina Bui walk onto stage with her infamous cheshire cat smile. What did I personally think about the sound change? I was pleasantly surprised at how seamlessly they've adjusted the songs to fit the jazz-rock genre, I also believe that they have found the perfect sound to complement Selina Bui's voice. It's uncanny how it just clicked that she was born to sing the soft, almost lullaby-like, calming songs. If they were to release another album with a similar soft sound, I would happily eat it up.

Empty Bottles wrap up the Asian leg of the tour in Bangkok, Thailand later this month and then shortly begin the European leg in Sofia, Bulgaria.

INSTAGRAM

cameliazzz

liked by aidan_ebass and 122,394 others

cameliazzz life lately 🐾 tagged: selinabui

aidan_ebass Yes ma'am 🫡 ↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass i'm dying u are such an old man ↳ lukaszhang @ selinabui he's like barely a year older than you??

cami.png the hottest drummer ever 💜💜💜

conangray a little commotion for the drummer pls and thank you ↳ cameliazzz @ conangray stop i'm blushing ��

TWITTER

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 4h i mean we can all thank tommy for one thing and that's for twelve more days lmao ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 3h i forget that not all empty bottles fans have read this article but i think they all should: Why 'Twelve More Days' isn't a Break-Up Album, it's a Healing One

emme @flowersforcami · 1h yes twelve more days is full of t*mmy slander BUT remember that all the band members have writing credits and they ALL helped write songs so basically what i'm trying to say is that twelve more days is actually the rest of the band roasting the shit out of lina's ex ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 1h every one of those bitches rocked up to the studio and went for blood. that is a universally hated man in their group chat.

amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h it's been 3 years, i think it's time to admit that keeping tabs is absolutely not about thomas fucking howard ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h i don't care how delusional u are, where in those 3 minutes 54 seconds did you hear a single line that sounds like anything like that sorry excuse of a man??? now a certain japanese-american singer who is exceptionally hot playing the guitar on the other hand... ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 2h yes i agree it's not about t*mmy but it's also not about CHRISTOPHER like WTF R U ON???

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 32m we're in an oscalina drought and it's plain to see not all of us are coping well

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by chrisyamada, oscarpiastri and 279,384 others

selinabui now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh is it that sweet? i guess so

amelia_belrose pop!lina perhaps 🫣

oscarpiastri Didn't need to call me out like that ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri don't tell me u miss me already

sabrinacarpenter she's working late coz she's a singer

lukaszhang woman you hate coffee what are you on ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang why are u even here

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 2h 🚨| Chris spotted at the Empty Bottles 'Twelve More Days' Tour in Seoul Night 2

Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 32m 🚨| CHRIS ONSTAGE WITH EMPTY BOTTLES!!!

↳ Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 30m this made me break ok, i am so fucking thrown off. WDYM WE GOT SELINA BUI AND CHRISTOPHER YAMADA ON STAGE TOGETHER IN THE YEAR 2024???

mabel @ maplemabel32 · 25m i can't breathe chris and lina??? chris and lina???????? after so long??? CHRISTOPHER AND SELINA???? as in "hello it's chris" "and lina"??? MY BESTIES REUNITED???

june @linafesting · 18m sometimes, i'm convinced lina spins a wheel on how to break the internet today

↳ kat ୨୧ @yamayaps · 2m with all due respect, this stunt was NAUT selina's idea, this was a move that christopher 'no boundaries' yamada suggested

INSTAGRAM

emptybottles_official Olympic Gymnastics Arena

liked by chrisyamada and 334,294 others

emptybottles_official Nowhere as incredible as Seoul! Always special to have @chrisyamada join us on stage. tagged: chrisyamada

chrisyamada someone better return the favor later 👀 ↳ selinabui @chrisyamada u begged me to let u come what are u on ↳ chrisyamada @ selinabui ok maybe i did

pi4str1 ok someone catch me up bc i did not know chris and lina were friends??? ↳ linasgirl4 @pi4str1 it's probably best we don't get into it

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

153 notes · View notes

paulyenvol6 · 9 months ago

Text

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 19)

Contains: no warnings really, just some angst and unhinged behaviour

Wordcount: ~3.83k

Masterlist of this story

You inhaled deeply. You wished you could take Rhaenyra's hand but knew she wouldn't let you.

It had been 4 days since your father had announced the punishment for Daemon and you and you hadn't spoken one nice word with your sister. She gave you short answers and her face got cold every time she saw you. Daemon was still in the city but wasn't allowed to come near your chambers. He would leave the capital in 5 days and the closer you came to that day the worse you felt. The weight that laid on your heart became heavier and less and less air could enter your lungs.

Now you were standing in the throne room next to your father and your sister. The Starks would arrive in a matter of seconds to stay in King's Landing for a fortnight. At the end of the two weeks the wedding would take place and then they would leave again. With you. You didn't even want to think about it so you tried not to. It was just something that you couldn't get inside your head. That you would leave your home in only a fortnight and say goodbye to your family.

You were torn from your thoughts when the door opened and the whole Stark clan walked in. Lord Cordin led the group of people and you spotted his eldest son, Jordan.

He was 23 years old, had thick black hair and freckles on his nose. He walked confidently behind his father and smiled when your eyes met. He looked kind and had dimples so you smiled back.

"Your Grace," Cordin spoke loudly and the group of people got down to their knees. Your father took a step down and smiled friendly.

"Rise, Lord Cordin."

In one movement the Starks got up again and Cordin stepped aside.

"My son, Jorlan. The heir to Winterfell."

Jorlan took a few steps towards the King. "Your Grace. It is an honour to be welcomed in your halls."

From the look on your father's face you knew that he liked the young confident and yet humble man.

"We're very delighted to welcome you here, my Lord."

You knew that it was now your turn so you walked forwards.

"My daughter, the Princess."

You tried to look as friendly as possible and from the reaction of your father and the Starks you knew that you did a good job.

"It is truly an honour," said Jorlan and took your hand to kiss its back.

"Let us eat together. Let us celebrate this union with a feast," your father said and seemed happy with how things were going so far.

And they continued to go well. In the evening both your families dined together and everyone seemed to be quite satisfied. You obviously weren't, but you still had to admit that Jorlan was a good and decent man. For a moment you could actually enjoy yourself and your cheeks didn't have to unnaturally be drawn into a smile on your face. You could sense that your father was relieved by the fact that you were behaving well because after all this chaos he just wanted things to finally go the way he wanted them to so he toasted to you and didn't seem that angry anymore.

Laena next to him held his hand and you knew that she was faciliated as well. It was late at night when the Starks one by one excused themselves and then there were only your father, Laena, Rhaenyra and you in the room. Viserys sighed satisfied and leaned back in his chair. He chuckled and kissed his wife's hand.

"Who would have thought that Cordin has such a good sense of humour?"

Laena smiled softly. "I'm glad it went well, Viserys."

Her words made you realise how nervous and tense your father probably had been before their arrival. He had probably feared that Cordin would hear the scandalous rumours about you and disagree to a marriage between you and his son. Or that you would cause chaos. But now he just chuckled to himself until Rhaenyra stood up. She hadn't said or done a lot tonight but seemed 'normal', if something like that existed in your family. She hadn't looked angry but still treated you indifferently.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go to my chambers. I'm very tired."

"Of course, of course. Go to bed, daughter."

Rhaenyra smiled and then walked to the door. You watched her leave and then turned to your father, who caught your gaze and smiled.

"As I've told you, Jorlan is a fine match."

You nodded. "Yes. Yes, he will make a good husband."

You lowered your head and your father sensed that something was bothering you.

"What is it, Vhaela?"

You shook your head. "No, it's not… You don't wish to hear it."

But Viserys was determined and encouragely looked at you.

"Speak, daughter. I want to know what upset you."

"I just… I know I've said it before, but please don't exile Daemon."

You knew that you were playing with fire bringing this topic up again but you just had to do something. Only two days ago you had come to your father once again and tried to convince him not to do it, but he had been stubborn and threw you out of his room. But you didn't want to give up, couldn't give up. You couldn't watch him leave for Essos and knowing that he wouldn't return.

"Not this again, Vhaela," he hissed and his expression changed.

"I know. Forgive me father, but… I don't think you should do it."

He scoffed. "Of course you don't want it. Your filthly self-interests are guiding your wants and wishes."

But you quickly shook your head.

"I'll go to Winterfell, father. Daemon will be miles away if he stays in the capital."

"No, Vhaela. My brother has betrayed me and defiled you. He deserves to be exiled."

You gulped loudly and looked your father in his eyes. "But he's your brother. The King's brother."

"I know. And that's what makes this so terrible. He has responsibilities, which he just threw away like a dirty cloth."

Viserys had raised his hands but Laena gently grabbed them.

"Husband," she spoke softly and both you and your father turned to look at her.

"Wait with your judgement, please."

Viserys frowned. "What are you speaking of, love?"

His wife caressed the side of his face and then looked at you.

"I know that Vhaela and Daemon have acted with a great lack of responsibility these last weeks."

Your father exhaled sarcastically.

"But," she continued and turned to her husband. "I do believe that your daughter has a point. He should not be near Vhaela and preferably not be near King's Landing, but I do not believe that he should be exiled."

He shook his head. "Laena. How can you side with her?"

"Please Viserys. Listen to what I have to say. He is your only brother. What message would this send to the people? The King is sending his only brother away to live in Essos? Most of them don't even know what he gets punished for, which is good, and yet it would bring confusion and uncertainty. And he is your brother after all. He is supposed to take part in the crown's politics and bring House Targaryen to further glory."

Your father pressed his lips together and by now you felt like they had forgotten your presence.

"Well, Daemon is not doing such thing. Instead he is only weakening my reign."

But Laena shook her head.

"Send him to Dragonstone instead, Viserys. Vhaela will go North to Winterfell, Rhaenyra will marry one day and then reign after you, living in the Capital. Dragonstone is your ancestral seat, it should be held by a Targaryen. Daemon can go there, perhaps take a wife and Dragonstone will stand in its proper glory. He will be far away from Vhaela and he won't even bother you, if that is what you fear."

There was a heavy silence in the room and you felt your heart beating faster. You didn't really know why Laena was taking your side and whether she merely did it out of kindness but you just wanted to hug her right now. Her words had given you hope and for the first time you felt as if your father was actually questioning his decision. You grabbed the table tightly and watched your father for a reaction. He had his head lowered but was turned towards Laena.

"You're… I can't do this, Laena."

She sighed.

"Why not? I know how you feel about your brother at this moment, but it will not last forever, Viserys. Your anger will fade over time because he is your brother and deep down you love him. You know that. Send him to Dragonstone, avoid his presence for as long as you wish to but at some point in your life you will want to have him by your side again. And when that happens, he won't be far away in Essos, rotting away where you wouldn't find him. He will be at your ancestral seat and be a friend to the crown. Daemon will want to be the crown's friend because he will want you in his life as well."

Your father chuckled loudly. "You're speaking as if you were a prophet."

She smiled. "Perhaps I am."

You glared from Laena to your father and tried not to look too hopeful. Then the King sighed deeply and still looked a little unconvinced.

"It could be a risk," he whispered and then turned his gaze to you.

"Is that what you would want, Vhaela?" he asked coldly.

You gulped and nodded slightly.

"I think the Queen speaks with reason," you breathed.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed once again.

"I will think about it," your father said and it was enough for you to break into an honest smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

Later you laid in your bed and stared at the ceiling.

The window of your chambers was open to beat the oppressive heat in your room and you could hear the crickets chirping. Obviously you didn't know yet how your father would decide but for the first time since Rhaenyra had seen Daemon and you together you felt a little hopeful.

Yes, you would still go to Winterfell and would rarely see your uncle and yet it gave you comfort. You just thought that you would feel better knowing that he remained in Dragonstone instead of a city far away in Essos. He wouldn't be gone. He would still be allowed to come to the Red Keep and maybe even to Winterfell one day…? Even though you wouldn't be able to be with him again, you still wanted to see him, talk to him and wished that Daemon would visit you now and then up in the cold North.

You turned to your other side and stared at the wall. Suddenly you felt very lonely and wished that Daemon laid next to you. You could wrap your arm around him, lay your head on his chest and smell him. You wanted to feel the warmth of his body and feel safe in his arms. He would kiss your hair and press you close to his body. And thinking that you would never experience this position again gave you anxiety and made you want to bury your head in your pillow until you suffocated.

~~~~~~~~~~

You had to wait for two more days until you heard news about your father's decision. It happened when you sat by the table eating breakfast with Rhaenyra next to you. She was talking to your cousin and only briefly looked up when Laena walked in and took her seat next to you and soothingly squeezed your hand when you looked at her. You thought that something might have happened but her eyes were calm and kind.

"It's fine," she whispered. "He's not gonna exile him."

You widened your eyes and felt a warm feeling floating your veins.

"Really?" you breathed.

Laena nodded. "Don't worry, little girl."

You smiled widely and felt such a gratitude towards your step mother.

"Thank you," you whispered with teary eyes.

But Laena simply lifted her eyebrows.

"I didn't do it for you, Vhaela. You have made more than one mistake these past weeks. I did it because I genuinely think it's the best for the crown. And I most definitely didn't do it so you can continue these inappropriate behaviours with him."

You swiftly nodded. "Yes. I know."

You bit your lip and for a moment thought that everything was going to be fine. Well, you were still going north but Daemon could live in Dragonstone and wouldn't be gone for good. Maybe one day when your father would forgive him you could visit him there. He wouldn't be out of the world.

"Does he know yet?" you asked Laena quietly.

"No I don't think so. But you're most definitely not gonna be the person to tell him, do you understand me?"

You gulped and nodded.

"Viserys is gonna tell him, I assume. And you'll keep your head down. You'll do as your father says, alright?"

You nodded again and Laena seemed to be satisfied.

"Then all of this is for everyone's good, isn't it?"

"Yes. And I really appreciate what you did."

She smiled softly. "It's the best for the King and his reputation."

A few minutes later the Queen left the room again and when Rhaenyra saw it she immediately interrupted her cousin.

"Aegon. Leave us."

The little boy looked confused from your sister to you but got up. He stumbled out of the room and when the door was closed Rhaenyra turned to you.

"What were the two of you talking about?"

You were a little scared of your sister's reaction when you would tell her the news but knew that it was unavoidable. She would find out soon or later and would probably even angrier if you denied her now.

"Father is not going to exile Daemon. He'll go to Dragonstone instead."

"What?"

She watched you with small eyes quickly walked towards you. "Is this your plotting?"

Your sister tightly took hold of your shoulders and her nails painfully dug into your skin.

"Ow. You're hurting me."

But she didn't care and shook you.

"Did you manipulate father into believing it would be wiser not to exile him?"

"I-I told him I believed so. And Laena supported me and just told me that she was able to convince him."

She let go of you at once and you soothingly rubbed over your arm.

"You don't even see it, do you?" Rhaenyra hissed, her face distorted with anger. "Oh seven hells, Vhaela."

"What are you speaking of?" you said confused.

"No, no. I can't do this anymore. You don't listen to me anyway."

You frowned deeply as you watched her stand up.

"Rhaenyra. What do you mean?"

But she didn't turn around again and just left the room shaking her head over and over again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you didn't see Daemon again and you wondered if the news had already reached him. You overhead Niclas talking to a king's guard and found out that your uncle would leave in three days time and you asked yourself whether there would be a goodbye feast or something like this. But honestly, you didn't think so.

In the afternoon you had tea with Jorlan in the gardens. He was kind and turned out to be good company but you couldn't help but let your thoughts fade to Daemon all the time. Jorlan simply didn't sweep you off your feet. You noticed that he was a bit nervous all the time and the conversation was fine but a bit faltering. That's why you were quite reliefed when the Stark Prince excused himself and you could go back inside. Deep down you knew that you were a little unfair. Jorlan really was a fine match and would make a good husband. You should call yourself lucky. But you didn't feel lucky.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later you laid in your bed. For some reason you felt exhausted which was odd because you hadn't done a lot of exhausting things today. You had only spent time with your family and dined with the Starks. And yet it didn't take long for the sleep to overcome you and soon your thoughts flew away.

But your sleep was interrupted. You woke up because something was touching your face. You widened your eyes in panic and wanted to pull away but the hand on your mouth didn't pull away.

"Shh," someone made and your eyes started to perceive your surroundings better. You knew that voice. Of course you knew it.

Daemon sat by your bed with a hood covering his hair and smirked slightly. When he saw that you had noticed him he slowly lifted his hand from your mouth and put a finger to his lips.

"Shh," he whispered again and you nodded.

"What are you doing here?" you said as quiet as possible.

"I came to say goodbye, niece," he answered equally quiet.

"But you're only leaving in two days, I thought."

Daemon shrugged his shoulders.

"I decided to leave now."

His eyes were a little darkened and you wondered if it meant that he was sad. You definitely were.

"I don't want you to leave," you breathed. These words were only meant for Daemon and they were almost inaudible.

"I know," he whispered and caressed your messy hair out of your face.

He was looking at you as if he was trying to memorize everything. Your eyes, your lips, your hair and you felt butterflies in your stomach. And yet he didn't look entirely sad. He still had this little smug look on his face that seemingly never left no matter the situation.

"What do you think of Jorlan?" he asked and your eyes fluttered.

"I don't wish to talk about him now."

"But I want to know. Does he treat you well?"

You nodded. "Yes. He is kind."

Daemon's thumb reached under your eye and he gently caressed your skin.

"I will miss you, little owl. Very much."

Why did he smirk? Why didn't he look sad? His words were kind and indicated that you meant something to him, but why did he look so smug? Daemon attempted to pull his hand away from your cheek but you stopped him by putting your hand on his. His smirk intensed and you enjoyed his touch on your skin.

"I have to go soon," he spoke in a whisper and you shook your head. "I'm sorry, little one."

You gulped loudly and closed your eyes but then opened them to fiercefully stare into his eyes.

"Take me with you."

The words left your mouth and your uncle lifted his eyebrows.

"I don't care. I don't care about my father, about Rhaenyra. I want to be with you."

Daemon smiled softly and his eyes glared at you.

"You'll marry in a few days, byka riña." (little girl)

"I know. But I don't care about the Starks either. I want you, Daemon."

His hand pulled away from you face and this time you let him.

"You want me to take you to Dragonstone."

You nodded and meant it. "Please. I just want to get away from all of this. I don't want to think about marriage anymore I only want to be with you."

He chuckled quietly and then stood up. "Come on then."

Your jaw dropped but a smile appeared on your face. You hadn't expected him to agree that quickly. So you jumped up and quickly put a gown on. Daemon watched you doing it and then stepped towards you. He put his hands on your waist and his mouth brushed over your ear.

"Mine," he said and you felt goosebumps on your neck.

You quickly kissed him and then looked at him daringly. "Let's go."

The two of you were quietly walking through the corridor. Daemon had grabbed your hand and pulled you through the darkness. There were some guards but you managed to avoid them until you were breathing the cold air outside.

"We'll go through the back gate. And then down to the beach. We'll go on Caraxes' back to Dragonstone," Daemon whispered in your ear and you nodded.

You felt the adrenaline in your veins, you felt dangerous, brave and happy. All of this didn't matter anymore. Who cared about Jorlan Stark or the King of your sister? All you needed was right next to you and he would protect you. You would go to Dragonstone where you wouldn't need to hide. You could do whatever you wanted to. There were servants at Dragonstone who kept the castle in good shape and now they would look after you as you were Targaryens and meant to be in this place. Daemon and you wouldn't need to hide anymore. You could have his children maybe, provide him an heir and be his loyal wife. You turned and looked up to him, your eyes full of joy and excitement. Daemon smirked and watched you from the corner of his eyes.

Then you walked down to the beach where Caraxes rested but rose when he heard you coming. You smelled the salty air and wondered when was the last time you had been down here. It was so dark you almost couldn't see what was in front of you but you heard the waves softly crashing of the sand.

Daemo guided you to his dragon. Caraxes knew you of course and so there wouldn't be any complications riding on him. Your uncle stroke him and laid his forehead against him.

"Eman māzigon sīr kostā maghagon īlva naejot Zaldrīzesdōron," (I have come so you can bring us to Dragonstone) he spoke and Caraxes howled quietly. Then Daemon turned around and gestured you to come closer.

"Don't be afraid, byka atroksia," he whispered and then grabbed your waist to help you get on his dragon.

Once you sat comfortably there, your uncle climbed on Caraxes' back as well and you were sat behind him.

"Hold on to me tightly, alright?" he said and you wrapped your arms around his waist. It was a little windier now and your hair blew in the wind.

"Sōvegon, caraxes," (Fly, Caraxes) Daemon shouted and the dragon started to move. You pressed your face in Daemon's neck when Caraxes lifted himself and got off the ground.

You giggled and your uncle could feel the vibration and smirked as well.

"What is it?"

"I don't know," you shouted and laughed against the heavy wind and pressed yourself closer to him.

You felt incredible. Light. Like you were not only physically but also spiritually flying. The air felt so good against your skin and the water and sky looked magically in the night.

'That's it,' you thought and soon your cheeks hurt from all the smiling.

76 notes · View notes