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#Dr Eye Health Dry Eyes
dinnerclam6 · 2 years
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The Eye And Vision
With the mixture of HDTV and EyeVision sooner or later, it is feasible for you to to experience televised sports activities like by no means before. Each digital camera is mounted on a robotic platform capable of exactly panning and tilting the camera in any direction. The digicam's zoom focus, and the platform's pan and tilt capabilities, are computer managed from the manufacturing truck. Using a simulated digital camera on high of a pan/tilt tripod, the digital camera operator follows the motion with the master digicam. The result's a set of 30 totally different video sequences of the same action, covering a 210-degree vary of view. Our Optometrists offer eye exams and the highest stage eye look after the entire household. As a Fallon member, you’re additionally coated for specialty eye care to treat a watch situation or harm. Your plan could require a referral or preauthorization, so be positive to verify with us before scheduling an appointment with a vision care specialist. Visual acuity is a number that signifies the sharpness or readability of vision. When the 2 eyes fail to give attention to the identical image, there's lowered or absent depth perception and the mind may study to disregard the input from one eye, inflicting everlasting imaginative and prescient loss in that eye . Drusen are tiny yellow or white deposits beneath the retina. They often are present in people aged 60 years and older. Dry eye can cause quite a couple of symptoms, something from the eyes actually feeling dry to the eyes watering typically, or having a burning, itchy, or irritated feeling. One of the most common signs is the eyes feeling gritty or like something is in your eye. Most individuals will often experience blurred imaginative and prescient because the tears, which comprise the outermost floor of the eye, are unstable. We supply our sufferers eye care via state-of-the-art expertise, skilled, board-certified ophthalmologists, surgeons and optometrists, and our devoted and caring workers. Vision coverage may embody an eye exam or other providers to diagnose or treat the medical situation of the attention. Learn about eye exams, what’s concerned in a complete exam, and special considerations for youths and contacts. There are many components of your eye and brain that come together to permit you to see. The lens, retina and optic nerve are a number of essential components of your eye that let you rework light and electrical signals into images. Enter your ZIP code, then click "Specialist" beneath "What sort of health care supplier are you looking for?" Choose "Ophthalmology" from the drop-down menu. If the smallest print you probably can read is line 3 from 20 toes away while carrying your common glasses or contact lenses, the physician records your imaginative and prescient as 20/70 with best correction. If you'll find a way to learn line 8 from 20 toes away whereas carrying your common glasses or contact lenses, the doctor information your vision as 20/20 with greatest correction. For costs and complete details of the coverage, call your insurance agent or the company . Administrative services are provided by United HealthCare Services, Inc. or their affiliates. The appearance of hyperlinks does not constitute endorsement by the DHA of non-U.S. Government sites or the information, merchandise, or services contained therein. Such hyperlinks are offered in keeping with the said purpose of this web site. Your eye check results might be despatched to us within 24 hours so you'll find a way to renew your license on-line. There are presently highway test cancellations or DMV workplaces closed for in-person companies. See our “Cancellations, Closings and Delays” page for more data. With ContactsDirect, Superior Vision members have the identical seamless in-network expertise when looking for contact lenses online as they do when shopping in-person. If you have USFHP, your protection is dependent upon your USFHP provider. Contact your provider to discover out whether your exam is covered. "Visual impairment" is a common term that describes a variety of visual perform, from low imaginative and prescient by way of total blindness. To learn extra in regards to the many several sorts of reading options that are out there, see Reading, Writing, and Vision Loss on the VisionAware website. OR a visual field of 20 degrees or much less in the better-seeing eye. It's not a practical low vision definition and does not tell us very a lot in any respect about what an individual can and can't see. Low imaginative and prescient is uncorrectable vision loss that interferes with daily actions. It is healthier defined by means of operate, somewhat than check outcomes. Additionally, we study the eyelids and the glands inside the eyelids to insure they're healthy. Eyewear and corrective lenses prescriptions are usually read and ready by an optician, a professional who's trained to learn prescriptions and fit eyewear and other gadgets to right eyesight. 20/70 can greatest be understood by inspecting a standard eye testing chart that you may have used in your personal doctor's workplace during a watch examination. I lastly made an appointment for my eye examination with Dr. Tran. And, I could not be more pleased with her professionalism and her friendliness. Dr. Tran was very thorough and defined each procedure that she was performing. Learn how having cost-effective imaginative and prescient insurance coverage can contribute to your general health. Take advantage of customer service seven days every week with live representatives. Or obtain the Sydney Health app, the place you can rapidly access benefit and claims data and discover care. Lash Energizer Review under the age of 19 get further advantages, like free impact-resistant polycarbonate lenses and Transitions lenses. You can even use your eligible contact lens benefit without leaving the comfort of your personal home, by ordering via MESVision® Optics.
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jeepliquid5 · 2 years
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Nutrilite Vision Health With Lutein
Vision dietary supplements have sprung up that claim they can help you improve your eyesight. Improving your sight is something you may need to look into bettering. Some are ineffective, and some are even greater that they may help you improve your imaginative and prescient. Like the above product, this complement has received typically constructive evaluations from shoppers available in the market. People declare that the Complete Vision Formula helped them regain eyesight that had previously been lost for years. While we don’t know if that is true, we imagine that the value of $49 per bottle makes this inexpensive formulation value a shot. This complement comes packaged in one of the most extraordinary bottle designs we’ve seen. Lash Energizer Reviews is analogous in pricing to Divine Vision 12, providing 60 capsules for $69. Others work in additional difficult methods, specializing in cognitive and mind well being to help your eyes. In addition, healthy life-style practices, such as a nutritious food plan and frequent train, might aid within the prevention of many persistent illnesses, including eye issues. Getting enough of the vitamins talked about above might help lower your risk. Companies who care about you will put within the time and effort to package their product so that you are protected. Luckily, with the data on this article, you could be better armed to distinguish what is excessive quality and what's not. Make sure that no matter you utilize to nourish your imaginative and prescient or your kid's imaginative and prescient is made from solely the best quality components in laboratory-controlled circumstances. You shouldn’t belief your physique, especially your eyes, with anything. It additionally claims to assist with motion detection, night imaginative and prescient, response time, and even dark adaptation. It prevents imaginative and prescient loss by tackling macula-damaging and age-related vision deterioration issues. Beta-glucan lacks substantial proof supporting its helpful properties to eye well being. Just because the name sounds, Advanced Vision Formula helps enhance neuron well being with its dozens of potent components. Advanced Vision Formula additionally enhances brain operate, eye-test outcomes and prevents glucose from damaging the imaginative and prescient. Vision supplements that supply the eye with required vitamins and vitamins could possibly be a wonderful approach to preserve good eyesight. Today, within the eye care industry, we now have quite a few imaginative and prescient supplements that support the eye by enhancing your vision and correcting eye defects, amongst other issues. Pureclinica's hyaluronic supplement 300 mg is a superb alternative and straightforward to swallow. If you'd rather not add one other oral supplement to your routine, Dr. Toyos additionally recommends LUMIFY redness reliever eye drops. [newline]These drops assist to minimize back eye redness due to gentle irritation and dry eye. Not only do omega-3 fatty acids profit your eyes, but they also help to strengthen your coronary heart, your mind, and your total well-being.
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johndancer9 · 2 years
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Viewell Natural Eye Pressure, Dry Eye & Vision Supplement
And when someone has a low imaginative and prescient, they would have a rating that is 20/70 or worse. Now, you may wonder what fewer spikes in blood sugar and relief for individuals with diabetes imply to eye health? Well, it's a frequent factor that sufferers who have diabetes have blurred imaginative and prescient. Aside from that, this study proved that carotenoids corresponding to lutein and zeaxanthin could positively influence the attention. In that study, researchers have applied these two into quail eyes. After contacting producers and comparing lab reports, we went via hundreds of peer-reviewed studies to confirm the advertised advantages of consuming the highest imaginative and prescient dietary supplements. There are many containing unpublicized dosages of suspicious components or built-on junk science. Long-term effects of vitamins C, E, beta-carotene and zinc on age-related macular degeneration.Ophthalmology.Published online April 2013. None of the modified AREDS complement formulations used in AREDS2 — together with those containing 1,000 mg omega-3 fatty acids — prevented or reduced the risk of cataracts. Our eyes need simply as much safety from blue light-emitting gadgets as they do from age-related vision degeneration. This is where Bulletproof Eye Armor is available in, boosting eye operate, decreasing glare sensitivity, and improving night time imaginative and prescient. Thanks to its superior natural ingredients, this supplement can promote clear imaginative and prescient and increase long-term eye health, as well as assist battle eye fatigue. If advocate by your ophthalmologist, remember to purchase merchandise that say “AREDS2 method.” Learn extra about thedifferences between AREDS1 and AREDS2 formulation. Ophthalmologists advocate a food plan wealthy in fruit and veggies to maintain eyes in tip-top form. And, many advocate adding a sophisticated eye-health supplement—with specific nutrients—to your every day routine. It reduces inflammation, as some proof signifies that regular use can reduce the excessive risk of age-related macular degeneration. In this research, the eye well being dietary complement composed of a quantity of substances decreased AMD’s progression to advanced stages by 25 %. Within a high-risk group, vision care dietary supplements made up of a quantity of substances lowered the lack of eyesight threat in advanced AMD instances by 19 p.c. However, since solely observational and animal research are available, more analysis is needed to supply a direct correlation between low ranges of niacin and glaucoma. Eye health and vision aren’t something we consider right away when someone mentions self-care and a wholesome lifestyle. There would be damages to the macula, which is the part of the eye that controls straight-ahead vision and sharp vision. It will offer you insight into adjusting your way of life and sticking to a diet that can benefit eye health. Yes, we will say with a powerful degree of confidence that eye nutritional vitamins do what they're designed to do—slow or prevent the development of age-related vision loss. VitaBalance Lutenol incorporates all the essential compounds for eye health, together with both lutein and zeaxanthin. These compounds, alongside a potent B-complex vitamin blend, make it a fantastic general pick for eye well being. That’s most likely as a end result of Lutenol was developed in response to scientific analysis into the natural elements that enhance eye well being and function. Together, it’s the most potent formulation we’ve seen for your eyes—supporting wholesome eye function and improving retina, lens and macula well being. Eye nutritional vitamins are supplements that help and improve your capability to see. Hence, there's little to no risks concerned in getting the VisiShield complement. This disease usually begins in canine who inherit it when they're between four and 6 years old. We were advised there was nothing we might do about it and that she could be fully blind in about 1 12 months, 2 on the very most. We instantly started giving her Ocu-GLO and have given it to her every day since she was recognized. Vista Clear is seemingly primarily based on a recipe from historical Aboriginals of Australia. The creators say these people have already used it for thousands of years to improve their eyesight. The food regimen that this tribe follows is meant to have about 4 times the nourishment that other countries have. This dangerous compound makes the vision blur and likewise causes astigmatism and other damages as properly. There are no shipping charges for Eagle Eye 911 in the United States of America, and they will deliver you the imaginative and prescient supplement within seven business days. This article is offered for informational functions solely and isn't supposed to be used within the place of recommendation of your doctor or other medical professionals. You ought to always consult along with your doctor or healthcare supplier first with any health-related questions. Despite bilberry being well-known, it has not been linked to significant vision well being advantages in any necessary trials in people.
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iraqborder1 · 2 years
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10 Best Meals For Eye Well Being And Eyesight
Regular eye checks once you're over 50 are important for early analysis. Ophthalmic pilocarpine is prescribed to treat glaucoma and works by draining fluid from the attention, and relieving the stress. It needs to be an ongoing drug, which means if you cease taking it, your visual acuity reverts. It’s an all-natural product, supported by factual research to improve vision in a significant means. The firm affirms that a single Aussie tribe has an eyesight four times sharper than the standard person’s eyesight. As specialists within the vision dietary supplements field, we current you with our well-researched rankings of the most effective eye health formulas and vision supplements presently obtainable online. Aqueous BCA at both 50 mg/kg BW or one hundred mg/kg BW was orally administered to chicks by gavage earlier than the appliance of the unfavorable lens. Lutenol acquired the same BCA dose once a day for two days after fitting of a unfavorable lens. Virtual doctor’s visits turned common in the course of the COVID-19 pandemic, however they’re rarely a great possibility for folks with moist age-related macular degeneration... Even if it clears up, blurred imaginative and prescient can be a signal of numerous eye problems, corresponding to glaucoma, uveitis, a torn retina, or AMD. Losing vision in one eye may be an early symptom of a stroke. “Vision loss, particularly in a single eye, could be a sign that the carotid artery, which is a serious supplier of blood to the eyes, is blocked,” says Shugarman. Wet AMD can lead to a loss of central imaginative and prescient, which could be scary. But treatment is now better than ever, and there are many methods to manage and get support... Whether you’re looking to relieve eyestrain or help sleep, proof for the benefits of blue gentle blocking glasses is combined. Don’t let imaginative and prescient loss stop you from working — here’s what experts say you can do to adapt. The crowdfunding web page was created earlier this week, and as of this writing, there’s properly over $3,000 donated out of the $7,000 goal to let him afford his eye surgery. Spencer is 12-7 general in his MMA career, with eight of those fights being in the UFC.
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incomebottle4 · 2 years
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Can Supplements Improve Eye Health And Vision?
These reviews are not a substitute for discussing the health of your animal with a veterinarian. Vision helps keep horses composed and focused in stressful situations without causing drowsiness or affecting performance. Provides a unique combination of seven active ingredients in easy-to-feed pellets. It has zero side effects and doesn’t interfere with any medication or diet. Vision 20 works because it contains “vision detoxifiers,” according to Dr. Shelton. As you get older, ROS toxins stiffen and blur the lens of the eye. These essential nutrients may reduce the risk ofdry eyesand may have other eye health benefits as well. What can Visisoothe do to protect your eye health and eyesight using vision supplements? This means that companies can carefully craft convincing claims that make their supplements sound magical. Oftentimes, these claims are exaggerated at best and dishonest at worst. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease. Some consumers may turn to natural remedies as alternatives to costly vision products and surgeries or as a way to help prevent vision problems from developing. That could add fuel to a vision-supplement market that, according to Nutrition Business Journal, reached $331 million in 2008. 2 years agoThe manufacturer stated dosage for an 11 pound dog is 1 medium/large size dog capsule. Some vitamin supplements are useful for your health, but when it comes to your eye health, not so much. Most studies find that eye vitamins help to slow the progression of eye diseases, but not to prevent them. They are not as effective as they are marketed to seem, unfortunately. Members of the carotenoid family, the supplements lutein and zeaxanthin play an important role in the body’s visual system and overall eye health. Preliminary studies indicate lutein supplements may also help prevent or slow the development of AMD and cataracts. We developed this brand new software program for anyone who uses a computer. This software helps reduce the damaging effects computers can have on your vision. With the Rebuild Your Vision Ocu-Plus Formula, you getpeace of mindknowing you’re doing all you can to support and preserve your precious eyesight.
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babooncar5 · 2 years
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Best Eye Vitamins For Vision Support Top Supplements List
Sight Care Reviews was created by Dr. Michael Tonka, the Chief health researcher at NVI . As mentioned earlier, this supplement can address almost any problem related to eyesight. As per the makers, this supplement can give you 20/20 vision within a few weeks, regardless of your visibility. This statement means that people with diabetes experienced much fewer blood sugar spikes from eating the foods they consumed. The study did not interpret and analyze the effects of beta-glucan on eye health. Many research studies have not explored or even understood beta-glucans effects on your overall eye vision. However, diabetic patients with blurred vision may consider taking a beta-glucan infused vision supplement after consulting their doctor, of course. On the other hand, we have money-back guarantees, which are a great addition because not all supplements are likely to work for everyone. And, if these claims are deemed achievable in a matter of a “few weeks,” forget about it. Such statements are typically made to trick people who are in clear need of assistance. The most common attempt at luring consumers followed the lines of “perfect 20/20 vision,” “no need for glasses or contacts,” etc. Regaining 20/20 vision through natural means alone is not entirely attainable. Up next, we have the OptiPower At-Home Test Pack, which is a comprehensive package of eye test home kit with eye charts, simple eye tests, and a custom tracker to monitor one’s progress. Don’t worry, though; the Complete Vision Formula by PureHealth Research doesn’t compromise on effectiveness. As you might expect, this supplement and its ingredients are scientifically-backed in their claims of improving eyesight over time if used properly. This Vision supplement claims to improve vision and overall eye health in several different ways. Interestingly enough, the company claims that its ingredients are derived from “biblical” sources. We’re not quite sure that the appeal to religion improves the efficiency of the formula. Still, we were nevertheless impressed with some of the ingredients offered by the Divine Vision 12 formula. With a subtle blend of components added to their formula, PhytAge 911 has achieved dramatic benefits. The most significant portion of ingredients in Eagle Eye 911’s supplements consist of L-taurine, NAC , quercetin , and grape seed . For example,leafy green vegetablessuch as spinach, kale, mustard greens and others offer many of the vitamins and nutrients that are good foreye health. Research hasshownthat people with AMD might benefit from taking specific vitamins. The ingredients used in it contain high nutrients, which improve eyesight. Complete Vision Formula is one of the supplement products that has genuinely improved its consumers’ vision. There are many testimonials on the PureHealth Research website where customers express their gratitude about how the supplement product has solved their eye issues.
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foreverxdaydreaming · 2 years
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never realize how many useless notifications you get until you put your volume on.. all of these emails / scams / marketing have ruined the importance of calls/notifications entirely,,
#my phone lives on silent and only goes on volume/vibrate occasionally bc i just can't stand it omfg#but also so that it won't distract me. so dnd is usually my best friend bc that way if anything important comes in I'll still get it#in other words... im stuck at an appt rn that's absolute dogwater and i regret not canceling it 💀#never thought I'd prefer to be at work so bad lmao.. waste of my pto is what today has been istfg💀#and my phone keep going insane with messaging notifs that are absolute bs bc ive alr marked em all as read.... jfc#almost had a mf panic attack bc of how terrible getting here + the shitty entirely full parking garage were....#dont wanna waste the rest of my pto/miss for no reason but like.... at this point..... my gods🥴#& my bosses are as wonderful (dry af) as ever and keep asking me for drs notes every mf time i miss bc they don't believe me 'bc im young'#despite me being fairly honest about my health with em previously and now im getting shot in the foot constantly#bitch its not absentism or missing for funsies i have a bunch of fucking appts to check wtf is wrong w/ me bc no dr has figured it out yet#but anyway.... the more i think about it the more it stresses me out. and hr is the most useless thing in existence so forget them bruh#istfg if iget one more text/notif as im typing this (there's been at least 7) im gonna throw smth into the fucking wall#holy mother of fucking god#200% should have just trusted my gut and canceled. never listening to my mom about this again 😐 😒#jj.txt#/neg#vent/rant#tengo el petty resubido hoy and i can fucking FEEL it#ive got the dramatic anime fire in my eyes at this point in time
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jehanclinic · 11 months
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At Jehan Eye Clinic, Dr. Kareeshma Wadia, a leading cornea specialist in Mumbai, performs Dry eye treatment. One in which there is actually a reduction in the production of tears and the second type is called Evaporative Dry Eye, this has a normal production of tears, but quick evaporation because of the inadequate oily layer. This reduction in tear production is caused by damage to the lacrimal gland that produces tears. She has successfully treated hundreds of patients  Just a short term treatment for this may produce a significant improvement.
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aaagustd · 2 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
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somber-sapphic · 10 months
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Was wondering if I would be ok to request a sick reader with Wandanat where readers just come out of surgery (could be for anything, like injured on a mission, wisdom teeth etc) and they’re kind of loopy still, not really sure if it counts as a sick fix though so I don’t mind if it’s not your thing 😅
A Little Less Wisdom
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〖Notes: Okay, I had my wisdom teeth out a few months ago and I thought I'd be funny after waking up. NO. I just cried. I cried a lot. And then I got confused and hit my ride home. It was a long day.〗
〖Summary: You need your wisdom teeth out.〗
〖Word Count: 1320〗
〖Pairing: Wandanat x Sick Reader〗
☾Masterlists☽
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Out of all of the problems you could face as a superhero, ‘impacted wisdom teeth’ was never on your list. It hadn’t even crossed your mind; it just wasn’t something you’d ever believed that you’d need to worry about. Maybe there was a part of you that considered the possibility, but when there were so many other more dangerous things to worry about dental health didn’t really make the top hundred.
But two weeks ago, when your girlfriends had noticed the way you were avoiding hard foods and the copious amounts of over-the-counter pain meds you were taking, they finally said something. It really didn’t click to you that anything was wrong until Natasha had brought it up, a look on her face that betrayed her true concern.
Once they had completed their makeshift intervention, you began to notice the real pain in your mouth and began to wonder how exactly you had ignored it in the first place. Your best guess was that something was always hurting from one battle or another, that this one just didn’t seem too pressing. That sprained ankle had been a worse issue than the tooth pain. Until you noticed it, of course.
After a checkup from Dr. Helen Cho (who reiterated over and over again that she was not a dentist) and a few x-rays later, you were found to have “severely impacted” wisdom teeth. Not just regularly impacted, but severely. Not only that, but it was all four of them. You didn’t do anything in halves.
Wanda had been shocked at how well you had been hiding your discomfort, while Natasha was more focused on helping you to feel better. She wanted you to have surgery as quickly as possible, stating her concerns about possible complications and expected recovery time.
This was her way of expressing her love, getting overly caught up on details, and making sure that everything was 100% taken care of so that neither you nor Wanda had to worry. She was a wonderful girlfriend.
The day of the surgery came and went, a mission getting in the way of your dental care. This didn’t particularly bother you, part of you (as embarrassed as you felt) was incredibly nervous about the operation. You had read up about it in secret and had learned about every single complication ever recorded in human history.
This was, of course, a bad idea. Now you were panicking about dry-socket, nerve damage, infection, and possible death as a result of the anesthetic. The idea of being completely out of control of your surroundings was not one that you particularly enjoyed.
Unfortunately, beings who wanted to destroy the human race could only keep you from getting your wisdom teeth out for so long. The day arrived and you were mildly freaking out about it. Wanda, who could literally sense your emotions, had been trying to keep you calm by distracting you with silly little tasks and offering small comforts.
Natasha was less subtle about her attempts to soothe you; she straight up hadn’t left your side the whole day. She kept murmuring reassurances to you while you watched some dumb TV show and had even done research of her own to combat what you had found. She combatted your fear with love and statistics. These two very different ways of trying to make you feel less anxious were working very well together to put you at ease.
You lay back in the dentist’s chair and stared with panic-filled eyes at your loving girlfriends who were hovering in the doorway, unable to enter the sterile field. Suddenly, a very loud thought filled your head.
It’s all going to be okay. Breathe. We’ll be right here. You’ll be okay.
It was hard to describe how it felt when Wanda projected a thought into your mind. You could tell that it wasn’t a thought of your own, it had a comforting feeling. A soft, gentle, loving feeling. It put you at ease more than the intravenous anesthetic that was being pumped into your body.
The last thing you felt as you closed your eyes was that lingering emotion that Wanda had pushed into your mind.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“They’re waking up,” Natasha murmured, nudging Wanda slightly. The witch looked up from her phone where she had been anxiously tapping away at some game, a look of relief flooding her face. The two women stared down at you, both smiling as your beautiful e/c eyes fluttered open.
“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Wanda cooed softly, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of your lashes. You opened your mouth as if about to speak, but then closed it again. You repeated the motion a few times, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you started to reach up for your mouth.
“No no no, let’s not do that. We’ve gotta leave that alone for now, okay?” The brunette chastised, quickly pulling your hand away. You pulled a pout, but the time it took for you to actually change your expression was absolutely hilarious. It took you a full five seconds to register that something had been said and react to it.
“Mh mufh iffmahds.” You mumbled around the gauze, the words you were trying to say lost around the cotton fabric stuffed into your mouth. Natasha leaned forward and bent down to kiss your head, leaving her lips there for a few moments to express her relief. She knew that nothing bad would happen to you, but the anxiety was always going to be there.
“Just rest baby, we’ll talk when you’re a little more awake.” She said kindly, grabbing Wanda’s hand as your eyes fell closed again. The redhead turned to her and grinned before kissing her soft pink lips.
“They’ll be okay Wands.” She reassured, resting her forehead against Wanda’s.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The peace of you being sort of asleep only lasted for twenty or so minutes. This time when you woke back up, you were ready to go. You quite literally came up swinging, your eyes wide and yelling something that neither of your girlfriends could understand through the gauze.
“Woah! Calm down, it’s alright babe, it’s okay.” Natasha said, reaching over to grab your fists.
“The chicken! The chicken’s comin’!” You cried, forcing the words out as you struggled against the grasp of your concerned girlfriend.
“What are you talking about? There’s no chicken!” The redhead replied, sounding frantic as she dodged a kick aimed at her face. You weren’t fully coherent, but your fighting skills were still very much intact. You had trained for this and were using your training to keep yourself safe from the aforementioned chicken.
“Robot chickens! So many, too many, can’t do it, gotta go!” You spat out, starting to get out of the reclining chair. You made it halfway up before falling back again, not entirely prepared for the weight of gravity. Gravity was hard.
“Y/n, Y/n. Listen to me. There are no chickens, okay? We’re in medical, you had surgery, and it’s all okay. Relax babes. You’re safe. It's just Nat and me.” Wanda soothed, putting every bit of calming energy into her voice. She felt bad for using witchcraft on you to alter your emotions, but she needed to calm you down as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, it worked. You sat back and relaxed, your body going limp against Natasha’s. You quite literally fell against your favorite assassin but remained conscious this time, breathing heavily as you relaxed again.
“I don’t like poultry.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into Natasha’s shoulder. The redhead laughed softly, and Wanda let out a weary sigh, a grin spreading over her face. The operation was over, but it was becoming more and more obvious that that had been the easy part. Now they had to deal with an incredibly confused, slightly high you who would probably remember absolutely none of this.
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dfortrafalgar · 1 month
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I'm Losing You
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.
Warnings: READ WARNINGS IN CHAPTER 1!!!! Stuff starts rapidly going downhill from this chapter onward. If you haven't heeded the warnings from chapter 1 until now, this is your final chance to do so
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua
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Chapter 6
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You anxiously kicked your feet dangling off the examination table you were sitting on, heart pounding in your chest as you waited for your doctor and the ultrasound technician to enter the room.  Law had felt absolutely awful that he wasn’t able to go to your first ultrasound appointment with you, but you happily assured him that you were dedicated to keeping him updated on the entire day while he was busy with his shift at the hospital.
Your eyes scanned over the equipment that would eventually be used on you, the sterile instruments, the heavy ultrasound equipment, and the small storage counter in the corner.  Your heart leapt into your throat at the sudden sound of the door cracking open.  The sight of your calm, collected gynecologist brought you comfort as she smiled at you, her bright blue eyes shining.
“Your blood tests came back very positive with HCG, you are in fact pregnant, though we both already knew that,” she said with a happy smile, opening the door once more to welcome the ultrasound technician.
“I still can’t believe it,” you sighed in disbelief.
Dr. Robin sat in the swiveling stool across the room from you and flipped open her laptop.  “I understand you and your husband were concerned about fertility, yes?”
You nodded.  “I had called to schedule an appointment with you a few weeks ago to discuss that.”
She hummed in confirmation.  “Yes, I did see your name on my schedule for May.  But luckily your recent pregnancy let you come in much earlier!  I’m sure you know, but we usually do an ultrasound around seven weeks.  According to the information you gave me, we should be around that time frame now.”
The ultrasound tech was sanitizing her hands, but tossed you a very excited grin.  “Congratulations, Mrs. Trafalgar!”
You beamed.  “Thank you so much.”
After a few briefings about your current health and any possible symptoms, you were instructed to lay back on the exam table and lift your shirt to expose your belly.  The feeling of the translucent gel against your skin caused a chill to run up your spine, making the technician whisper a silent apology for the sensation.  You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling as Dr. Robin began to brief you about the expectations.
“If you’re around 7 weeks, we should be able to detect a heartbeat in the fetus.  We’ll also be able to make sure that the embryo’s development is progressing normally,” she explained.
You took a deep breath through your nose as the technician placed the blunt end of the ultrasound transmitter on your lower stomach, over where your uterus would be.  “Sounds good.”
She moved the wand around your belly, trying to get a good image, before finally locating and settling on your uterus.  Sure enough, there was a small attachment in your womb, surrounded by an abyss of black, outlining the shape of your organ and the fluid surrounding the embryo.  You were scared to look at the screen, and simply kept your eyes focused on the ceiling.
You were starting to really wish Law was here.
It took you a few moments to realize that neither your doctor nor the technician had uttered a word.  A few adjustments were made to the machine and the wand was placed against your skin once more.  Your throat went dry.
“Is… everything okay?” you asked.
Dr. Robin cleared her throat.  “We can’t seem to detect a heartbeat.”
Your stomach dropped, and she must have noticed the way your entire body tensed up.
“This isn’t always cause for alarm, it could easily be that you’re earlier along than we thought, maybe around five or six weeks.  The heartbeat doesn’t usually start to show until around week seven, so it’s likely that’s just the case,” she elaborated, placing her hand on your arm to reassure you.
The ultrasound technician finished blotting down her patient notes before powering off and cleaning her machine, followed by cleaning you up.
Before you had the chance to speak, Dr. Robin grabbed your attention.  “There is no need to be alarmed, I’m going to set you up for a follow-up appointment next week so we can check on the embryo again and make sure it’s progressing normally.”
You took a few shuddering breaths through your mouth.  “Okay…”
Dr. Robin rubbed your arm reassuringly.  “I’ll get your patient summary printed out for you to take home, and I’ll meet you at the front desk to schedule a follow-up for next week.  Take some deep breaths, you’re going to be okay.”
You followed her directions, taking deep, controlled inhalations.  Finally, you nodded.  “Okay… thank you, Dr. Robin.”
Time moved in slow motion as you walked to the receptionist’s desk.  The voice leaving your mouth sounded like your’s, but it certainly wasn’t you who was speaking.  Operating purely on autopilot, you took your bag, your patient summary sheet, and your waning confidence to your car where you sat in silence, staring at your steering wheel.
No heartbeat.
You were running through calculations in your head.  You must have been on your seventh week, unless you counted wrong.  Perhaps you did count wrong in your excitement, you were known to do that on occasion.  But at the same time—
Your phone buzzed.
Baby~~<3
Hey honey, I’m on lunch.  How did your appointment go?
You choked on the hard stone in your throat, heavy tears welling in your eyes.  You were trying so, so hard to convince yourself that your doctor was telling the truth, that perhaps you were simply earlier in your first trimester than any of you thought, and that the fetus’s heart simply hadn’t developed fully yet.  The chances of that were very high, you knew they were.
So then why were you so… petrified?
Law sent his text, placed his phone down, and ate his lunch, checking his phone before his afternoon rounds.
He went on his rounds before heading to the operating theater, where he placed his phone with his circulating nurse and prepared for a basic operation.
When he was finished, he still had not heard back from you.
That was when he began to grow worried.  He sent you another text that simply read:
Babe?  Are you back home?
He tucked his phone back in his pocket when he was called to a patient’s room.  He shoved away the rising anxiety and discomfort that filled in his throat in order to manage the rest of his shift and get home to you as soon as he possibly could.
Law hurried from his car to the front door of your apartment.  He was relieved when he saw your car parked in your usual spot, but he still hadn’t heard back from you when the clock struck 10:00PM.  He flung open the door.
The living room was empty, and Bepo was sprawled out on his bed on the floor, lost in a heavy nap.  He barely moved a muscle when Law walked in, leaving his dad alone to bolt to the bedroom, where the door was closed.
Law felt his stomach sink.
He gently twisted the door knob and pushed the door open, peering into the bedroom he shared with you.  The lights were dim and the blinds drawn shut, but through the faint lighting he could make out a large lump under the duvet cover.
“Babe…?” he called in an anxious whisper, unsure if you were asleep or not.
He saw your body lurch under the covers responding to this voice.
“Hey…”  He rushed to your side, kneeling on the bed and placing a hand on your shoulder, ushering you to roll over and face him.  “Tell me what happened…”  He was afraid he already knew.
Very slowly, you rolled over and popped your head out from under the blankets.  Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen from your violent crying that had only recently stopped, only for your tears to quickly return upon seeing your husband’s concerned eyes gazing down on you.  You let out an involuntary noise, something akin to being strangled, before blubbering out a sob.
“They… couldn’t… find… a heartbeat…” you managed to mutter in between your cries.
Law figured that might be the case, but it didn’t stop his heart from shattering once again.  “Did the doctor say anything else?”
“She…” you rolled over, wiping your tears and snot on the ratty t-shirt you wore.  “She said to come back next week… and that it might just be too early to tell… but…”
The black-haired man nervously bit the inside of his lip.  He was trying to remain as calm as he could for you, but he couldn’t help the way he felt utterly helpless at your distressed state.  Taking a shuddering inhale, he replied, “Then you’ll see her next week.  It’s very likely that she’s right, and we’ll have a heartbeat.”
You sniffled.  “I… I know… but…”
Law patiently waited for you to speak.
“Law, I’m… I’m so scared.”
He felt his entire world disintegrate at how small your words sounded, how utterly petrified your voice and expression seemed.  When Law had first met you all those years ago when you were undergraduates in college, he was convinced you were the most headstrong, unwavering woman he had ever met.  Never did he see you get discouraged, you were always thinking ahead, using your neverending charisma and wit to solve every problem life threw at you.
So to see you like this, completely beaten by life…
“Law…?” you weakly called for him.
“What is it, baby?” he replied, keeping his voice low.
You swallowed a thick glob of saliva in your throat.  “Are you going to leave me if I can’t give you a kid?”
Law’s eyebrows furrowed together, his lip trembling.  “Of course not.  I would never.  And you’re not ‘giving me a kid,’ we’re working together on this, remember?  I would never abandon you for something that’s out of our control.  You’ll find out more next week, and chances are the doctor’s right and the baby will have a heartbeat.”  He was trying his damn hardest to reassure you, but that sinking feeling he developed while writing his report a few days ago returned stronger than previously.  He couldn’t help but dwell on the feeling that you were, in fact, seven weeks along, and the pregnancy was nonviable.  But regardless of his analytical way of thinking, the prospect hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  To try for so long, to feel a level of excitement that he had never felt before, only to have it ripped away so quickly.
He couldn’t tell you, though.  You needed him to be strong for you.  At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
When Law returned from work, he would usually shower and change, but tonight all he wanted to do was hold you.  He simply shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, crawling into bed with you and holding your fatigued form against his warm body.
The smell of sterile alcohol followed you into your dreams.
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shina913 · 1 year
Text
The Boyfriend Experience | MYG
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The Boyfriend Experience: Yoongi
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The BFE: Masterlist
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Pairing: Escort!Yoongi x Divorcee Fem!Reader
Rating: M🔞
Genre: sex!workAU; strangers to ? ; angst; smut;
Warnings: alcohol consumption; cussing; mentions of antidepressant; gynecology; mentions of divorce; bits of self-pity and low-self-esteem; legal sex work (in this AU); fingering; dirty talk; clit play; protected penetrative sex; aftercare
Word count: ~8.2k words
Summary: 💬 When I saw my gynecologist recently after not having sex for a year, she told me, ‘You need to be having sex.’ She told me that my vagina was 'drying up.’ Sex, in and of itself and for its own sake, is also important for a woman’s physical health. 
A/N: Little disclaimer: the doctor's office part is a spin on this one scene from Sex and the City. I found out that this is a legitimate condition 🥴 I don't really go into detail about it but I also don't mean to offend anyone who is actually suffering from this condition so I apologize! It's only a small part of the plot.
A/N: Thank you to @/itdoesntmatterwhy and @/purplewhalewrites for reading through this and for your super helpful suggestions to get this installment going. It's been kind of a struggle to get the storyline straight for this one so...I hope you all like how this Yoongi turned out. Enjoy! 😘
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You are hypnotized by the bubbles in your champagne. You watch the tiny orbs floating and fizzling up to the surface…much like many of the realities you’d encountered in recent days.
Three days ago, you were at a doctor’s appointment for your annual exam. You’d been experiencing some discomfort down in your lady parts.
After making her assessment, the doctor prompts you to sit up on the exam table. You straighten your posture, adjust the hospital gown behind your shoulder, smooth the paper blanket over your lap, and anticipate her professional advice.
As she scribbles on her prescription pad, she says, “I’m prescribing you an antidepressant.”
“I-I’m sorry…I’m confused. An antidepressant? B-but I don’t think that—“
She looked up from her dark-framed glasses. “Oh, it’s not for you.” Then she cocks her eyebrow and gestures below your waist. “It’s for your vagina.”
“Uhm…okay, now I’m even more confused.” It was the understatement of the century.
“The discomfort you’re feeling is due to some dryness,” she begins to explain. “I’m also prescribing a topical gel with some hormones to help with lubrication.”
“Lubrication?” You ask incredulously.
“Yes,” she smiled politely. “I would recommend abstaining from any sexual activity for about 24-48 hours to allow the gel to work its magic but after that, you can get right back on that pony!”
“Well, abstaining shouldn’t be a problem then. I’ve been sexually in-active for a while, so what’s another two days?” You joked.
Your doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You haven’t had sex in–how long?”
You’d already gone through this line of questioning from the pre-assessment intake that her assistant had done before your doctor entered the room. Didn’t she check your records?
She looked at her laptop and scrolled up. “A year?”
“Yes…give or take,” you replied quietly.
In actuality, it was a little bit longer than that. It’s been over a year since you and your ex-husband, Jihoon, separated and began divorce proceedings. Months before he moved out, intimacy was already scarce, bordering on nonexistent.
The doctor’s mouth falls open at your confirmation. “Oh, honey…” She pulled her glasses off.
You and Dr. Cabrera have known each other for years. You both spoke freely and casually when the situation called for it.
“You need to be having sex. And no, it doesn’t need to be with an actual dick. There are other ways, too.” Her lips thinned into a tight line as she gave you a knowing look.
You roll your eyes at her. “Don’t you think I know that, Mina? It’s just that I haven’t been motivated to date…” Much less touch myself. “Ever since Jihoon—“
“Ah, fuck him!” She waved you off. “Girl, you need some regular activity in your vaj, okay? And not just for pleasure but for your health!”
She goes on to lecture you more about vaginal health and how it goes hand-in-hand with sexual health. If your ex was getting all the sex he could elsewhere, there was no logical reason to be depriving yourself.
“You need constant stimulation! That’s why your coochie is depressed!”
Another reason to be depressed? Receiving a written notification from the courts this morning, telling you that you and Jihoon were legally divorced now. It was a tough reality to face. For the longest time, you were both unhappy. Breaking up was a foregone conclusion and yet–seeing it written on paper, in bold letters, still felt like a swift kick in the lady balls.
“What are you celebrating?” You are snapped back to reality by a voice.
“Hm?” You were so lost in thought, you had no idea how long you’d been staring at your champagne flute.
You turn your head to find a man, standing about two feet away, his elbow resting on the back of one of the bar stools next to you. His hair was long, ending just a couple of inches below his earlobes; it was loosely brushed back, one side tucked behind his ear while the other had a few strands falling right above his eyebrows.
He wore a dark, tailored suit–formal, understated elegance but with a hint of approachability since he’d skipped wearing a tie. Despite that, he still looked like a million bucks.
The lounge was nearly empty as the night waned. A handful of customers were still meandering about, sitting in the plush tables and chairs situated by the wall.
Even though you were the only one seated at the bar, you weren’t sure whether he was addressing you.
“Are you talking to me?”
He kept his gaze on you. “I am,” he smiled softly. He then gestured to the chair next to you. “May I?”
“S-sure.” With another smile, he saunters over and settles into the seat. He points to your drink again. “So, one usually orders champagne to celebrate something, right?”
“Oh, this?” You lift your glass and then shake your head. “I’m not sure if I would exactly categorize tonight as a ‘celebration’.”
The corner of his mouth quirks in a half-smile. “Maybe you should have ordered a whisky instead?”
You laughed wryly at his comment then thought, maybe you should have–especially after the week that you had.
He calls the bartender over. They smile and make small talk as if they’d known each other for years.
You frequented this lounge at least twice a month in the last six or seven months after your girlfriends dragged you out to dinner here once. Eventually, you’d gone out on your own to have a cocktail or two, whenever the kids were with their dad for the weekend.
Coming to L’Atelier beat drinking at home on your own. You didn’t socialize much on your nights out but at least you were drinking at a nice place. It was a small comfort and you just wanted to unwind after busy weekdays shuttling your children around.
This was the first time anybody had actually approached you–apart from the bartender and the occasional ‘Is this seat taken’ question from random men trying to hit on women who sat next to you.
After this man places his drink order, he turns his attention back to you.
“Do you come here often?” Your question sounded like a terrible cliche but it was the best you could muster. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”
The bartender clears their throat and presents the man with his drink.
He thanks the bartender before he answers, “Yes, I’m here pretty regularly,” he smiled enigmatically. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed me.”
Haven’t noticed him? Nonsense! You most definitely would have noticed him if he walked into a room. Was your sad vagina making you blind, too?
“I’ve seen you once or twice, though,” he says before taking a sip of the amber liquid from his glass, his eyes never leaving you.
“Oh?” You ask nervously.
“Yeah. I come here often for…business meetings,” he rationalizes. “Have you been offered a seat at the chef’s table yet?”
You frowned in confusion. After coming to this place many times before, this was the first time you’d ever heard of an option to have a seat at the chef’s table.
“I don’t think I have. Sounds exclusive,” you remarked.
“It is but I know the owner and I can bring you in as a guest.” After a beat, he asks, “Would you like to take advantage of it?”
Tempting as it was, you cross your legs and decline politely. “That’s alright. I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not,” he says. “I’d be happy to show you what offerings the restaurant has. The chef always has something that will satisfy any appetite.”
You stopped to consider your answer. Was he trying to pick you up or were you trying to read too much into an innocent offer?
You gulped your nervousness down your throat. “No, it’s not that. I’m, uh…” You scrambled to think of an answer. How could you tell this man that you hadn’t gone out on a date in a long time and that you were rusty when it came to settings like this so you’d prefer not to embarrass yourself.
His expression suddenly shifts to a look of realization. “S-sorry, I’m not trying to be a creeper. If you're with someone or just want to be alone–”
You shook your head and answer meekly. “No, no. I’m here by myself.” Then, you decide you’d dare to take a chance. What was the harm in enjoying a drink with someone?
“I don’t mind the company, either.”
To quell any further awkwardness, he introduces himself. “I’m Yoongi, by the way.”
After giving him your name, you can't help but notice that your breath hitches as he shakes your hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you.”
“Please! The pleasure is all mine,” he says with a smile, his hold still lingering on your skin.
******
It was hard to pinpoint what exactly made him attractive to you but you narrowed it down to a combination of his looks, personality, and confidence–the confidence, especially! And no, it wasn’t the type of confidence that was synonymous with arrogance or cockiness.
It was the quiet self-assurance that he exuded, where his ego took a backseat and you took center stage.
It was a refreshing experience since the man you were married to for years was very much into asserting his masculinity, especially when you first started dating. Admittedly, you’d found that attractive at one point in your life.
That was half of Yoongi’s charm. The other half of it was the element of seduction. He knew and understood how seduction worked.
In the short amount of time that he spent with you, it seemed that the trick lay in small things: his cologne, outfit, laughter, eye contact, and subtle touches–his knees brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat…they all added up.
You don’t recall Jihoon putting that much effort into your relationship, much less coaxing your own self-esteem to the forefront. You chalked it up to the fact that you were both so young and had been together for a long time. You didn’t have many points of comparison, relationship-wise.
“You seem like a really great person,” he says. “Why are you out here by yourself?”
You eventually relay that you’d come here to enjoy some ‘me-time’.
“Interesting,” he says. “And what do you typically do when you’re not alone?”
“Well, I have a day job and children who keep me busy.”
“Oh, you have children?”
“Yes,” you reply. “Two boys–currently with their dad. It’s his weekend.” You try but fail to hide the bitterness behind your tone. The tight smile you gave Yoongi was a dead giveaway, too.
You were fully expecting him to pepper you with questions, questions that you weren’t quite ready to hash out with a stranger.
“I see.” His tone had a finality to it, sensing your apprehension about expanding on your recent divorce.
You tilt your head back and down the last drops of your drink, thankful that he decides not to pry.
“Last call!” The bartender announces to the whole room before turning to you. “Can I get you anything else, miss?”
You shook your head in response and start to dig for your credit card to settle your tab. When they turn to Yoongi, who also declines any more drinks, he makes a request instead. “Junho-ssi, can you put her tab on mine?”
“Oh gosh–no, please–”
“I insist!” He hands his credit card to the bartender, effectively ending your protests.
******
You, along with the last few customers from the restaurant, walk out through the expansive foyer and toward the main exit. The restaurant staff begins to shut the lights off but leaves the lounge illuminated. You’d never been around for closing time so you found the whole scene novel.
A tall, handsome man dressed in a bespoke suit struts out of the backroom, which you assumed was the office. You’d seen him before, in passing. One of your girlfriends pointed out that he owned the place.
You part ways with Yoongi when the owner stops to greet him.
What was the owner’s name again?
“Jin-hyung,” Yoongi greets him in return, answering your unspoken question. They share a friendly hug and exchange pleasantries.
“I thought you left hours ago?“ Jin asks him.
“I was on my way out but I decided to hang around the lounge for a bit.”
Not wanting to linger, you walk out to the front of the restaurant to call yourself a rideshare. While you wait, you think about how this evening turned out to be a pleasant surprise to you. You walked into the bar, thinking you’d have a few drinks, and wallow in self-pity for a bit before you returned home to slip into your pajamas and fall asleep while a Beat Bobby Flay marathon plays in the background.
“Did you drive here?”
Your thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi, who was now standing next to you.
“Nah, I knew I was drinking so I just took a car over here.”
You shifted nervously. You hardly thought of yourself as ‘confident’ and it’s been a long time since you’ve been in the dating scene. You were out of practice after all these years but how else did you expect to jumpstart your sex life?
Besides, it’s been well over 72 hours since your gynecological treatment. By doctor’s orders–you should be good to go.
You found yourself speaking the words before you thought through them clearly. “I don’t know if you have any plans tonight but would you like to come over and have a few more drinks?”
******
Once you and Yoongi walked into your home, all that confidence remained at your doorstep and never followed you past the threshold.
Luckily, you found an unopened bottle of vintage red in your kitchen, which you offered to him.
After a few sips in, you clear your throat. “Listen, I have a confession to make.”
He shifted in his seat, prompting you to continue. “What’s that?”
“I…I don’t…do this kind of thing often. You know, bring men home. I hope that you don’t think ill of me for stringing you along like this.”
He smiled, looking calm and not at all disappointed. “And why would I think that?”
Not knowing why he couldn’t see the obvious answer, you shrug. “I realize that I hadn’t thought this through. I don’t want you to think that I’m reckless or easy.”
“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you’ve offended me.” His tone remained even and his expression was soft.
“I didn’t know if you were expecting to get laid or whatever,” you say anxiously.
“When a woman invites me back to her place, I never expect anything to happen. There’s always the hope but I’m honestly content with whatever she wants to do.”
You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re telling me that men don’t expect sex all the time?”
“I’m not like other men, unfortunately,” he answers. “I have a slightly different perspective, especially in my line of work.”
Your brows knit in curiosity. You’d come to realize that you hadn’t asked what exactly he did for work. You’d been too enraptured with his charm, happily talking about yourself while he listened to every word you said.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you do for work?”
“I’m an escort,” he says matter-of-factly.
If memory serves, that meant– “Oh my god. Oh my god…” Your scalp prickles immediately. Setting your glass down on the coffee table, you abruptly get up from your seat and start to pace around your living room. “W-why didn’t you tell me that right away? Why did–”
“I’m sorry. Our conversation was going so well earlier that I didn’t feel the need to slip it in. I didn’t think you’d invite me over.”
“Wait! Do I have to pay you? Is this…are you going to charge me for this?” You stammered in a panic.
His voice was soft and reassuring. "Relax. When I approached you, I thought you were a client - that's why I asked if you'd been offered the chef's table. It's kind of like the secret password," he reveals. "But since it didn't seem like you knew anything about it, I made the conscious decision to spend time with you. So, to answer your question: no, I am not charging you. I'm here because I want to be here.”
You breathe a small sigh of relief. Your head was spinning. A ‘secret password’? Was there a hidden brothel at the restaurant? You had so many questions!
“I understand that this is overwhelming and I don’t mean to freak you out any further. If I’m making you uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll leave. ” He raised his hands up, further conveying his point. “No harm done.”
He stood up and collected his jacket which was neatly draped over the couch cushion.
Your mind was still racing. What would it mean if you asked him to stay? He says that he’s not charging you but was it enough that you’d take his word for it?
You stop your pacing and turn to look at him.
Sure, you could make him leave and forget that this ever happened. Nobody has to know, nobody needs to know.
…Exactly. Nobody needs to know.
“Wait,” you answer softly. “Could you stay a little longer?”
******
It took a few minutes of some awkward, borderline-invasive questions about his job. You were understandably curious and he was a very patient interview subject. He kept most details vague–presumably, to keep some ‘trade secrets’ under wraps–he was fairly open about his work.
You learned that there was a specific app where his clients can book him and that he often stops by the restaurant, which had a secret lounge, for discreet meet-ups.
“So, you’re saying it’s not just all sex all the time for you?”
He threw his head back in laughter. “It’s not. Sometimes, some clients just want to talk–just like we’re doing now. That’s what our back room is for.”
“Right, but what are the chances that you don’t, I don’t know, get it in before the end of your date?”
He lets out another chuckle. “This may be hard to believe but there are times when some of my dates just want someone to keep them company. And yes, there are times when all they want is physical contact the whole time we’re together.”
“Huh…okay.” You internally fan yourself. “You can tell me to stop if I’m being annoying!”
He shook his head. “Not at all. Normally, I just talk to the other guys I work with since we all have to be discreet. So, talking to you about it feels liberating…on a different level. By the way, I love this red,” he comments at the wine.
You smile at his compliment before sinking into the couch cushions–internalizing this brand-new perspective. You marveled at the concept, like an awakening of sorts.
Hearing about his experiences and different approaches to each of his relationships with his clients fascinated you. On the other hand, it also made you think about how much you missed out on when you were younger.
He notices that you’ve fallen silent. “What are you thinking?”
“Just how little I know about relationships and…sex.” You sighed softly.
“What do you mean?”
You thought about how quickly that year passed, focusing on distracting yourself with work, and your kids so you wouldn’t have to think about how Jihoon was living his best life, with a newer, younger partner.
You didn’t have time for that. You had your babies to take care of. You had to stay focused for them!
Shaking your head, you say, “I don’t know. I guess I find myself being unreasonably envious of these women whom I’ve never met.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m envious at how they’re able to explore their sexuality without…being judged or looked down on. Like, I’m definitely not in my 20s anymore, you know? The concept of dating or even going out to get a drink doesn’t seem appropriate for someone like me.”
“Someone like you? You mean a woman?”
“Someone who has a full plate,” you counter.
“Is it full, though?” He asks skeptically.
You scoffed. “Well, yes! I have my job, then my kids—“
“But your kids aren’t here. You just said that they’re spending the weekend at their dad’s.”
“Right. Still, I don’t know if I have the time—“
“I’m sure you can make time now that you and your ex have joint custody. Don’t you think he enjoys himself when you have your kids while he has his own me-time?”
“Yes, but he’s a man. It’s different for women.”
“Surely you still have desires or fantasies? There’s no gender or age limit for that.”
You shrugged. “Isn’t there? Sometimes, I feel like I’m past it.”
He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “What do you mean to say, ‘you’re past it’? You don’t like sex anymore?”
His incredulity stings you a bit, maybe because he seemed young and had sex with several people often. “It’s possible! And you know what, maybe it’s just been too long for me and you know, they always say, you either use it or lose it.”
Yoongi stares at you, mouth agog, and utterly dumbfounded by your ridiculous theory.
“Can you do me a favor and humor me, just a little? I think that’s only fair, right?” After your interrogation, it did seem like a fair exchange so you nod your head, prompting him to continue.
“Tell me what you loved about sex. It could be the lead-up to it, a specific action, or the experience as a whole. What is it?”
You paused at his question. Your lips puckered as you thought about your answer. After a few more seconds, you finally answer, “Weirdly, it doesn’t have anything to do with any kind of penetration.”
He laughed so hard his shoulders vibrated. “I thought penetration was everyone’s favorite part?”
You tutted. “Nuh-uh. Not me.”
He eyed you quietly while he awaits your answer. “I’m at the edge of my seat here,” he chuckled.
You laughed in return. “Okay, okay. It’s kissing.”
His lips and eyebrows quirked in curiosity. “Interesting choice. Doesn’t ‘kissing’ still technically involve some kind of penetration?”
“I guess,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at the same time. “But to me, kissing means more than just getting it in.” You pause again to think of the correct metaphor. “It’s like the prologue and the epilogue to sex.”
His eyes flickered with renewed interest while you elaborated. “You know, when you like someone or find them attractive enough, you imagine what it’s like to kiss them, right? The thought consumes you until you finally get that opportunity to do it.”
He continued to regard you intently, hanging onto your every word. “You start off feeling and tasting…and then you slowly melt into it. Your hands start to explore, clearly wanting more of that person.” You smiled wistfully, “One of my favorite things to do is finding out how long I could keep my mouth sealed to my partner’s while we undress each other. And then the thrill of breaking that kiss–for just a few moments–so you could strip that last piece of clothing off them–then you get right back into it.”
You watched his chest rise and fall, his gaze still hot on you.
“After all is said and done–after you both ride out your highs and your bodies are trembling from intense pleasure, your only source of calm and comfort is falling into those kisses again.” When you finish, you press your lips into a hard line and stare back at him.
“Wow,” he choked out after a few beats.
You wave your hands dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know it sounds crazy and delusional,” you scoffed.
He disagreed. “On the contrary, I think that you make a very compelling argument for kissing.”
You sighed ruefully, “It was just something that my ex and I stopped doing many years ago. I felt like that was the beginning of the end.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he remarked sincerely.
“Yeah, me too.”
You looked away to take another sip of your drink while his gaze remained on you. When you turn your attention back to him, he asks, “I’d like to do that for you, if you’ll let me.”
You cocked your eyebrow in suspicion. “Do what?”
“I want to give you that feeling again.”
You frowned in confusion. “What feeling?”
“The feeling you get from a kiss.”
Your eyes bulged in amusement before laughing. “What? That was like, some desperate wish from a sad lady.”
“If that’s how you want to see it, fine. But I am here, sincerely asking if I could kiss you.”
“Oh my god, Yoongi–” Your forehead creased, trying to make out whether he was for real or just pulling your leg.
“I’m not bullshitting you, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Then you must be drunk,” you countered.
“Not that drunk,” he demurred. “I am still very much coherent.”
You continued to eye him skeptically for a few seconds.
“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. If you say ‘no’, then we’ll move on from this subject and continue on with our night. And I think I’ve made it deliberately clear that I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable at all,” he reassured you.
“I…” The answer was at the tip of your tongue. However, before you say anything else that you feel might be too impulsive, you feel the need to step away to cool off.
“Oh, look at that!” You remark at the empty bottle of wine and reach for it. “I’ll be right back with another. Red, right?“ You hastily make your way back into the kitchen, not waiting for his answer.
******
After retrieving a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge, you puff your flushed cheeks out and fan yourself. It was definitely the alcohol…coupled with the fact that Yoongi’s presence was lowering your inhibitions further.
All that bullshit you spewed about not having the desire? Being ‘past’ sex? Right. You internally smack yourself.
He wasn’t charging you anyway, what was the harm in a little taste? The problem was what could happen after the fact. What if you turned out to be insatiable? Could your alimony checks pay for these meetings?
“Shut up, this is crazy!” you mutter to yourself.
And yet, even as you made your way into the kitchen, you were already feeling that familiar tingle in the pit of your stomach. A feeling you thought was long gone, walking out the door along with your ex.
You put the bottle of wine down and center yourself, splaying your fingers onto the counter then lean on it for support.
You try desperately to calm your fluttering pulse.
“Hey.”
You turn your head around to see him entering the kitchen.
Shit, were you taking too long?
“I thought you might need this.” He held up the corkscrew in his hand and then slowly advanced toward you.
You laughed. “Oh…uh…silly me!”
“I got worried so I thought I might check in on you to make sure that you were okay.”
You turn around and attempted to take a step but your knees felt like jelly. So instead, you lean your back against the counter. “I’m fine,” you try to say as evenly as possible. “Also, seems I’m all out of red wine and this is the only one I have left.” You gestured at the bottle on the counter.
Seeing your apprehension in serving it, he asks, “Do you like it?”
Your eyes bulged at his question.
“The wine. Do you like it?” he clarifies.
“I do.”
He gives a small nod. “Well if you like it, I’m sure I’ll like it, too.”
“You said earlier that you preferred to drink red. Do you always adjust your preferences based on whatever your date likes?”
“Mm…so we’re on a date?”
You giggle nervously at your presumptuousness then start blubbering. “I mean–I’m just saying.”
“It’s just a preference,” He interjects cooly. “...but I generally like to keep an open mind about things. I’m not the type who limits myself.”
“Because ‘limits’ are an occupational hazard for you?”
“I may not limit myself but knowing my clients’ limits are helpful for me. I want to know what they want; want to know how much I can give it to them…until they tell me to stop.”
“And how often do they say ‘stop’?” Your question was barely a whisper.
“All the time, actually. Except…” he hissed through his teeth, “…it usually comes after the word, ‘don’t’,” he punctuated.
Your lips seal tightly as if bracing yourself. At this point, you’d made up your mind and wanted to know what it would be like to be intimate with him.
But you still haven’t said the words.
He smiles and takes a few more steps, closing the gap considerably but still leaving room for you to push away from him if you want to. At this point, you didn’t want to push him off but instead felt a visceral need to pull him closer.
He inhaled deeply, like he could smell the want thrumming from your body.
He swallows, leaning in so his face is in your hair. The sound of his breaths sets your body alight…this would be the moment you’d give in to your impulses.
He’d pressed himself against you and you didn’t stop him. You shift, knowingly brushing your thigh against his crotch, his cock stiffening at the contact. He bit into his lips in an effort to suppress a growl but fails at it.
Your skin is hot to the touch and your heart feels as if it’s thumping out of your chest. With his lips still narrowed into a hard line, you lock eyes with him, and he detects that dormant lust lingering in their depths. You gulp and drop your gaze to his lips. Your bodies, now pressed against each other; mind racing, you continue to stare at his mouth. You want to taste him.
“I want you.” His words reverb around the room like an echo.
He moistened his parched lips with his tongue and let out a shaky breath. And maybe it has been that long…but you’d never seen anyone look so desperate to take you. Never felt so paralyzed by desire.
"Can I please... have you?" You can’t imagine he’d ever worked this hard for a fuck.
You never thought of yourself as sexy. You always thought you looked average. But when you're with him, he made you feel unbelievably irresistible. You haven't felt this confident in a while.
His mouth gently grazed the side of your jawline. "Please...tell me I can have you."
Curiosity consumed your body, leaving you no choice but to surrender. Finally, you permit yourself; and in turn, permit him. “Yes.”
You slowly tilt forward until your lips gently meet his but he doesn’t take the lead. Instead, he decides that you should still take it at your own pace, and he’s more than happy with it. It’s slow. Soft. Tender…everything that you hoped it would be.
He presses his hand onto the small of your back, making you arch against his hold.
“Bed?”
“Mm-hm,” you hum your agreement against his mouth.
“Where?”
You fist at his shirt and pull him down the hallway and into your bedroom.
His back hits your door, which slams against the wall, jolting you into his arms. He can do nothing more than keep up with your pace, all while silently demanding you start ridding him of his clothes.
Your tongue circles his mouth, your heads tilting constantly, taking other angles, pulling back, only to crash together once again. It’s wild, messy, yet absolutely incredible.
“You’re so sexy, you know that?”
“You’re just obliged to say those things.”
“I’m not obliged to say or do anything I don’t want to.” He peels off the wall and walks you both farther into your bedroom. “And neither are you.” He backs you in until your legs feel the mattress against them. He turns you around, zipping your dress down. “Do you understand?”
You nod and remain still as he unfastens you and then pushes the dress downward, his eyes falling to the material that pools around your feet.
His hands reach for the clasp of your bra. One flick of his deft fingers releases it, and he notices your shoulders lift. He moves in close and slides his forearm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“We can do this however you want. You have control, okay?” He whispers, trying to ease your nerves. You were tense, but not from fear. It was from anticipation.
“Yes,” you respond.
“You’re beautiful and I want us to take our time.” He drags the straps of your bra down your arms until it tumbles to the floor. “We don’t need to rush through this.” Kissing your cheek lightly, he relishes the feel of you pushing closer to him. “I want to remind you how good it can feel.”
You turn and lift your chin to look at him. Without a word, you start to unbutton his shirt, one by one, slowly and purposefully, with a whole range of of thoughts and emotions running through your head.
He lets you undress him at your own speed, resisting the urge to rip his own clothes from his body and toss you on the bed. “Want some help?” He asks to find out what options you’d be open to.
You peer up at him, and he sees apprehension in your gaze. You smile and shake your head ‘no’ softly.
He realizes that even though you’re desperate for him to take you, you have no idea how this will all play out. It’s been so long, and he was the first partner you’d been with in a while. You didn’t know if you wanted it raw and fast or slow and loving.
“Don’t be nervous.” He takes your wrists, instantly feeling you tremble. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“But I want to.” Your gaze drops from his, down his bare torso, your teeth sinking into your lip. “I really…really…do.”
Pulling away from his hold, you push his shirt from his shoulders and place your hands on his pecs. His body feels like it’s just gone up in flames, and his hands twitch, desperate to grab onto you. Ravage you, kiss you…ruin you. The look in your eyes tells him you’re aware of all this because you want to do all of those same things to him.
You reinforce this with a hard kiss on his lips, and he’s instantly overwhelmed by it, his palm going to the back of your head, gently pushing you closer, his mouth opening, inviting you in.
Your hands are everywhere. Your kisses turn sloppy. His actions convey a sense of urgency, making him want to take you hard and fast, show you how good he could be for you. He can feel his control slipping but somehow manages to maintain his hold on those last few strands. He knows this isn’t the time for him to get carried away. He was giving up control to you.
Holding your head in his hands, he slows the tempo of your kiss. Suddenly, it was all coming back to you now. Your hands snake down to the fly of his pants, you undo it and slide them off him, all while keeping your lips locked. He takes you down to the mattress, your tongues dancing slowly, breathing each other’s breath.
You never thought he’d taste this good, even with the hints of alcohol mixed between you. He comes down to rest over you, taking his arms up over your head, leaving your hands free to roam his back, his ass, and eventually his face. You’re both lost and consumed by each other.
He forcibly breaks your kiss to test a theory.
You let out a whine, hating the loss of contact. You lunge at him, wanting to capture his mouth again but he teasingly pulls away. You lean in again and he retreats with a soft chuckle. Finally, you let out a growl, clasp your palms on either side of his face, and aggressively pull him back to you.
His chest rumbled in arousal, and he kisses you back with just as much fervor.
You pant against his mouth, your hands grabbing at his hair, legs locking around his waist, telling him that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Your lips purse, your hands sliding past the waistband of his boxers. You push them over the rise of his ass. “Are you worth every penny?” You cheekily pinch his butt, making him flinch and grin at the same time.
“Yes,” he says simply.
You giggle, then sink your nails into his flesh. He grits his teeth, enduring the sharp pain. “And I’m supposed to just take your word for it?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He raises his eyebrows in warning as your hand glides softly through his dark strands. “But yes, you’d better take my word for it. Let me make you feel good?”
Your lips press together, your hips flexing up, pushing into against his hardon. “Yes,” you breathed out.
With your consent, his lips crash into yours, the slow and steady pace all but forgotten. Wild hands feel down his thighs and start pulling impatiently at his boxers. He fully appreciates your eagerness, taking his own hands to your panties, pushing them down your legs just as impatiently.
You inhale sharply but quickly adopt his method, tugging and squirming to break free of your last bits of clothing.
Until there is nothing but skin on skin. Nothing but the friction of his flesh rubbing all over yours as your bodies entangle, lips and tongues clashing, your moans and hungry gasps filling the room.
His hand grazed your clit lightly, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. Your breath caught and you tilted your head back as he moved down your body, kissing and licking downward until he was past your torso.
His thumb swiping at your soaked folds sends an unexpected shiver up your spine, making you gasp. He’d anticipated a slow build, but after a few light strokes, he realized you were already primed for him.
His fingers continued to work you, pumping at a slow, even, and purposeful pace that increased both the pressure and area with each stroke. His digits were gliding up and down your folds in a slow circuit, coming up to your clit, then down…easing in and out of your aching cunt. Your breaths started to turn ragged, and he took it as his cue to change his pace in bursts, shortening each motion while your orgasm built.
“Oh shit, I’m close,” you choked out as your muscles seized. “Keep going…”
His strokes became shorter as your climax neared. Dipping in and pressing up against the roof of your core, sending you over the edge. He kept the pace until the sensation became unbearable.
The second you felt the first shudders of your orgasm rip through you, you let out an aggressive, high-pitched gasp. You gripped at your sheets, back arching off the mattress as you trembled with relief and satisfaction.
You barely notice him getting off the bed to grab a condom from his pants, which were on the floor. He tears open the foil and carefully rolls the condom down his length.
It doesn’t take much guidance to get his cock resting at your throbbing entrance. You suck in air and hold it, pulling back to get him in your sights. His eyes on you, he nudges his hips a fraction, resisting the urge to pound straight in. “Ready?”
“God, yessss!” You can hardly talk through your desperation so instead, you roll your hips up and take a bit more of him.
He pushed into you, eliciting a small cry from your lips as you adjusted to the stretch.
He swivels his hips, grinding deeply. He flexes his hands over your hips, keeping you pinned against the mattress, withdrawing from your pussy and gliding gently back in.
He watches you melt beneath him, but the slight quiver on your lip worries him. He pauses his movements and loosens his hold on you.
“Are you okay?” His fingers gently brushed your forehead.
With a swift kiss to his lips, you nod. “I’m good.” You sink your nails into his ass and roll your hips onto his, telling him wanted more.
You fist your hands in his hair, moaning in invitation as your body goes into autopilot. You feel his palms squeeze your thighs again, bracing himself as his hips grind against you once more.
You don’t know how you’ve managed to resist him this whole time.
He nips at your bottom lip and releases it, pulling his face away and looking you straight in the eyes. He rolls his hips again, grinding hard against your pelvis, making your core clench tightly. Your head lolls on a deep moan, giving him free access to your throat. He takes full advantage of it, licking and sucking at the hollow.
You could cry with pleasure at how good it felt.
Nuzzling your cheek, he takes your hands and thrust them up on the pillow, he elevates himself a little to get a good look at you. You’re panting in excitement and need. Loving the feel of him inside you. He rolls his hips teasingly. “You like it slow?” He licks his lips, savoring the sight of you breaking into a sweat.
“I don’t really care,” you utter.
“Please, tell me what you like.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t care,” you insist. “Just don’t stop–”
At the sound of your words, your eyes immediately dart up to Yoongi, who was now sporting the cockiest smirk. Flustered, you end up muttering, “Ugh, just keep going, okay?”
“As you wish,” he says with a chuckle. Lowering his face, he catches your mouth gently as he continues the measured, delicate rock of his hips, making sure his drives are slow and exact, his tongue following suit. He releases your hands, allowing you to feel him.
He lets you control your kiss again, only breaking away from time to time when you lazily throw your head around on the pillow, sighing, moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head from arousal.
You’re caught in the moment and floating in mid-air. He keeps his rhythm steady, ensuring that you’re kept in a consistent state of pleasure. He’s amazed by how responsive you were to him, finding himself enthralled at the sight of you losing yourself.
He peels away from your chest as he lifts and balances his weight on his forearms. Your eyes follow his, your hands reaching for his face, holding him. Your hips are in perfect sync, his rolling down, and you undulate upward to meet his, each plunge taking your breath away.
In one swift move, he rolls you both over until you were on top. He gives you a look, reminding you that you were in control. With a gentle nudge from him, you sit up, shifting your legs on either side of him for leverage.
You ease into your movements. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips to meet yours, filling you to the brim as he exhales. You lift off slightly, feeling his length slide out. His mouth falls open with a sigh when you sink your hips to take him in again.
You were feeling drunk with the power you currently had–watching Yoongi coming apart beneath you. You place your hands on his shoulders for support until your ass rests atop his thighs.
You sway your hips and he matches your rhythm, maintaining that perfect synchronicity. You increase the speed and it didn't take long before you were fully captivated in pleasure again.
He slowly lifts himself off the mattress and sits up, his face right in front of yours. His hands move from your hips to your arms, maintaining a firm grip to hold you still. He then withdraws slightly before thrusting sharply into you, causing you to cry out.
Your head lolls sideways and back, as he fucks in and out of you. You open your eyes, stare down at him, your breathing ragged, and he’s staring back at you, eyes blazing.
“Fuck…don’t…stop,” you mewl pathetically as he pounds into you.
He groans loudly, closing his eyes again, tipping his head and leaning it against your forehead.
He feels you inching closer to another orgasm. He reaches between you to massage your clit, circling it in the most optimal rhythm, applying the perfect amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge.
You both calmly roll through your own waves of pleasure, a stark contrast to the frantic hammering in your chests.
“Are you okay?” He asks against your misted neck, still catching his breath.
You giggle softly, rolling your forehead against his forehead. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
His lips curve into a smile before he gently places soft, leisurely kisses on your lips. At the same time, his fingers caress your cheek and neck. He didn’t need to do all that, but it felt good.
You pull away and regard him intently. “That was nice.”
“Aftercare is important.” He plants another soft kiss on your lips before he gingerly lifts you off him.
He asks for permission to use your shower, and you direct him to the linen closet where he can find some towels for himself.
“Yoongi?” You call out to him. He turns around and hums his prompt for you to go on.
“You know, if I could afford you, I’d pay twice whatever you’re charging.”
He grins at the compliment, nodding before turning back towards the door. “I can give you access to the app if you’re serious about it,” he says over his shoulder in jest.
His laughter sends gentle currents coursing through your body. The thought amuses you, as you sink back into your sheets while the sound of your shower tap turning on echoes through the room.
******
For somebody whose work revolved around sex–it sure didn’t feel like it from your perspective, nor his.
Everything felt natural and organic. Every touch, every kiss felt real. Every movement you made was in response to his–an even exchange, never missing a beat. The whole act itself flowed like a great conversation, one that you didn’t want to end.
It wasn’t that he had magical skills in bed. There were no special rituals or elaborate positions. His strength was in genuinely understanding that sex went beyond the physical aspect. He knew how to build anticipation and actually deliver.
Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had spent the entire night setting the mood for the moment and the result was extremely satisfying. He made you feel so comfortable and relaxed that it made the sex that much better.
And it was mind-blowing! Even then, that adjective felt inadequate in describing the experience.
As he was getting ready to leave that morning, you let him know that you didn’t feel the need to call him again even after he offered to meet up off the clock.
“Look, I’m flattered, but you don’t need to do me any favors. Besides, I wouldn’t want to take any business away from you,” you say to him.
“Don’t think of it that way,” he shook his head. “It’s just that I really enjoyed our time and I thought–”
“Then let’s leave it at that,” you interrupt him calmly. “I had a really great time, too.”
He sighs in defeat but asks again for good measure. “Are you sure?”
You nodded in response.
He took a step closer. You chuckle softly, butterflies tickling as he snakes his arm around your waist. “If you ever feel lonely, call me. I’ll be here for you. As a friend.” He gave you a smile that had the slightest hint of mischief in it.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do,” he says emphatically–almost begging. “And you know where to find me.”
You laughed.
“We can grab a drink, or something.” His eyebrows twitch and his teeth catch his lower lip while he stares at you.
You looked at him wryly, but deep down, you had to admit that his insatiable desire for you stokes your ego. “You know, you’re making this really hard–”
“Good. Glad I’m not the only one finding this…hard,” he rasps.
You slap of his chest playfully, eliciting a laugh from him. You roll your eyes but are unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Oh my god! You’re a menace!”
He throws his head back, laughing some more, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’m teasing, of course. But I’m serious, though. If you ever want to talk, I’m a phone call away.”
You offer a small smile of appreciation in return. “Thank you.”
“Would it be alright if I kissed you goodbye?”
You shook your head softly. “That’ll be nice.”
He dips his head and pauses for a fraction of a second to brush the tip of his nose against yours, before fully capturing your mouth in a lush, deep kiss.
And it was nice, just as you thought it would be. It was also nice to feel wanted and desired–even for one night.
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Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @shesoldbutcute @yoongukie-ff
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The Arcana HCs: How the M6 get sick
Julian
Let's be honest, self care is an entirely foreign concept to him
And for the last three years, he hasn't needed as much of it due to his healing gift
Which is why, in the weeks after the masquerade, he unwittingly and completely runs his body into the ground
You're not that surprised when you come home to him swaying in the middle of the kitchen, coffee pot clutched in one shaking hand, running a fever
"Ah, MC, you're home! Would you be a darling and summon some of that fire magic for me, it's a bit chilly-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence because you're prying the coffee from his death grip and bullying him into bed
He's very confused when you tuck him in and leave the room instead of joining him
But now that he's lying down he can feel how much he's struggling to get warm, and how much his thoat hurts, and how dry his mouth is, and how ferociously empty his stomach is
Once he sees you reappear with a thermometer and a flask of water, it finally clicks
He's sick. What do you mean he's sick, he can't get sick - Oh yeah, he guesses now he can again
As weird as it is for him to be so low on energy and docile, he is fully on board with you nursing him back to health
Jokingly calls you "Dr MC"
Will not hesitate to critique your professionalism
He's trying really hard to make you laugh and play it off like it's not a big deal, but his smile is forced when he's gripping your hand
He remembers the plague, he remembers what sickness can mean, and he knows his own infection never ran its course, even if there's no reason for it to come back
You can tell that he's terrified and you'll have to talk it out with him
You reassure him that he's safe, the two of you beat the devil himself together, as long as you've got each other things will work out
You're just relieved to see him eating and hydrating and sleeping
You know he's doing better when he starts dramatizing his symptoms and demanding either leeches or affection as medicine
From now on he's more mindful of not having his mark anymore and the importance of half decent self care
Asra
They're not stupid, they have plenty of common sense, they just have a weakness for unusual foods
Especially foods he's never encountered before
Did they know that eating from a shady food stall they'd never seen before is highly inadvisable? Yes
Was he able to identify any of the ingredients or smells involved with the food? No
Were there any other customers at said stall during the hour and a half that they were wandering around the marketplace? No
Are all of these factors the main reasons he decided he absolutely had to try it? Obviously, duh
Food poisoning is never fun, even for the slyest of magicians
They come back to the shop after an afternoon of errands, arms and satchel full of groceries
He gives you the biggest smile when he lays eyes on you, but you notice there's an unusual tightness around his eyes
First there's the sheen of sweat on their face that they keep trying to wipe away, and then the slight tremor in their arms as you're closing up the shop for the evening
You confront him when his gut starts trying to imitate whale mating calls and he admits to having a slight tummy ache
They keep telling you not to worry until the nausea hits them and you're scrambling to get them over a toilet or a basin or *something*
"Asra, what did you eat?"
He doesn't answer you, not because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't know
And also because, well, the nausea is ongoing and they are suffering
You love him and you don't like seeing him in pain, so you're pulling his hair out of his face and rubbing his back and propping him up
Eventually the nausea fades and you can get them to drink some water, but then the next phase of food poisoning kicks in and they're glued to the toilet seat, producing the most lethal odors
He'll be so embarrassed you had to see and smell him like this later, but right now he's tired and weak and your hands are so cool and soothing on his feverish face
You're going to be up with them through the night until they finally fall asleep as the sun is rising
You had a scathing lecture planned for him when he woke up but you can't stay mad when he's so apologetic and embarrassed
They have a new guideline now: "If I wouldn't feed it to MC, I probably shouldn't feed it to myself."
Nadia
She doesn't get nearly as many headaches as she used to now that her undead ex-husband has been dealt with, but they still happen sometimes
You've heard stories from Portia about how bad they used to get, but this is your first time seeing it for yourself
She had tried to power through it while you were out that morning, but you were rushing back to the palace as fast as your legs could carry you when Chandra brought news that she had fainted
By the time you got back she had regained consciousness, but she was still in her chambers and everyone was unusually hushed
When you walked in the room was dark, the normal perfume in the air was muted, and she was lying stiffly in the middle of her bed
It was very strange to see her smile at you without speaking
As soon as you were within arm's reach you were quickly reminded that she was in fact the baby of her family growing up
She finds your presence soothing, what can she say
She's not letting you leave her side
You're stuck now
Anyone else who dares enter her chambers receives a death glare
Your new job is to act as a liason between her and everything outside her room
You watch for the shadows of feet in the crack of light under her door and slip away to collect her meal or request some water or answer a pressing question
Every time you return you find her sulking (she will deny this later) because you left without her permission
She will only eat if you feed her. She will only drink if you're cradling her head. She will only take the painkillers if you give her a kiss.
It's slightly heartbreaking because you can't imagine the amount of pain that would cause her to act like this
But the most beautiful woman in the world is pressing your hand to her lips and whispering how much she loves you and insisting you have a taste of her sorbet so you can't really complain
Once she's feeling better she insists on rewarding you in whatever way you desire, but she also makes it clear that you are not to share anything about her behavior to her family
Muriel
You've never seen him get sick, you're pretty sure his stomach and immune system are made of steel
He's also highly skilled at ignoring his physical needs
That's really what did him in, he kept getting symptoms and ignoring them, thereby making the problem worse
Sore throat? He's fine. Headache? He's okay. Subtle desire to wear another layer of clothing? He never gets cold, what are you talking about. Dizziness? No, the ground has always been wobbly like that -
You know you won't be able to catch him if he falls and he can tell you're getting upset, so he agrees to lie down, just for a little bit
He doesn't get up again for a while
His instinct when he realizes he's sick is to handle it the way he always has in the past, which is to hunker down where he's the most invisible and dissociate while he waits it out
Except now somebody's tapping his shoulder and pulling the covers off of his face and trying to get him to eat and he's feverish so he doesn't want to
You had forgotten just how grouchy he could be
You're getting flashbacks to what he was like when you first met
But hey, you stubbornly loved it out of him once, you can stubbornly love it out of him again
"I brought you some water, Muriel." *Grunt*
"You need to stay hydrated." *Angry grunt*
"That wasn't a suggestion, Muriel." *Death glare*
You pile furs and blankets over him and send Inanna with a note to get medicine from your shop
As he recovers he's able to open up a bit about what it meant to get sick as an orphan by the docks, and how that was a signal for others to take advantage of one's weakness
It explains his hostility towards anybody approaching him or acknowledging his condition, but he stills feels awful about it
Once he's back to normal he shows more affection than before because he knows you won't take advantage of him
What really made him the most grateful was finding out that you fed the chickens for him
Portia
She gets sick about as often as any normal person gets sick, but that doesn't mean she's okay with it
There is a dark side to living in service to other people, and that is when it becomes the thing you base your value off of
Long story short, she has workaholic tendencies and she indulges them too much when she's feeling low
Which makes her tired, which makes her feel worse, which makes her work harder, which makes her more tired, etc etc
You've seen this vicious cycle show up once or twice on ambassador trips and you've been able to pull her out of it by clearing her schedule for the day and showering her with affection and affirmation
But this time she was home, in Vesuvia, and you had to go on a trip to gather some supplies, and she had to stay and host some visiting dignitaries
And then she missed you, so she worked harder to distract herself, and ran herself into the ground
You came back to an unusually messy cottage and a sleep-deprived, feverish Portia
It wasn't very hard to figure out what happened
It was very hard to convince her to rest
You had to wrangle her into bed and convince Pepi to fall asleep on her so she wouldn't try to move
You brought her some soup and herbal tea and set to work cleaning the cottage and clearing her schedule for the week
When you walked back to check on her she was fighting to stay awake, on the verge of tears because she was so stressed and burnt out
You had to lie down next to her and tell her three times that everything was taken care of before she could fall asleep
Once she woke up and her fever broke and she had eaten and rehydrated you got her to rant about why she was stressed and then you had to force feed her soup and self affirmation
You got Ilya to come pay her a doctor's visit to get your point across
Now when either of you has to go on trips without the other, you leave her notes with affirming words all over her things so she can't go through a day without being reminded of how loved she is
Lucio
If there's one thing you can credit Morga for, it's Lucio's impressive physical endurance. His immune system is almost on par with Muriel's
Really the only time he's been seriously ill was when he was dying of the Red Plague, and that had nothing to do with physical strength
So you never really worry about him getting sick, he's Lucio, he's resilient like that
But you do worry about his recklessness sometimes, especially when it borders on stupidity
You had taken a gig back in the ancient forest to hunt down a lost relic, and you had been warned multiple times about the effects of certain plants in the area
Nothing to be too worried about really, they were even safe to touch as long as you didn't get any of their sap on you, and it wasn't deadly or anything
It was just something worth avoiding, because the effects were akin to a nasty 24 hour virus and you didn't want anything slowing you down
He did not understand the assignment
He hacked through them with his sword to make a "shortcut" and covered himself in sap
Now you're *slightly* lost in the deep woods, with an increasingly miserable ex-mercenary and no sign of human life in sight
He's panicking, last time he got sick he almost died and spent three years as a ghostly goatman, he doesn't want to do that again MC!
You snap him out of his panic by dunking him into the nearest stream (to wash off the sap so you don't get sick too, obviously) and explaining that he'll be ill for 24 hours and then he'll be fine
He's not worried anymore, but he's not used to being sick either, and he only tolerates glamorous discomfort
He is going to whine and complain without ceasing
You do your best, you wrap him up in all your blankets and set him up next to a roaring fire, you keep a cool handkerchief on his forehead, you keep him hydrated and forage enough to make him a hearty herb and jerky stew
For all of the very real discomfort he's in, he shows you nothing but gratitude, and that's how you know he won't be turning back into a goatman any time soon
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Text
𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 2
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Therapy begins, and Y/n can’t see herself in any of these people. When introductions lead to comparing trauma, will the redhead be able to coerce her out of her shell?
Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.
Warnings: anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of: cults, suicidal thoughts, past suicides of family members, heart attacks, kidnapping, child abuse, boat accidents, bombings. Please mind your triggers and stay safe.
🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻
————————————————————————
𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐲
“You can all follow me this way—Dr. Coulson’s ready now.” He announced.
You stood on legs that felt completely hollow—any sense of comfort you’d felt in the waiting room disappearing in an instant. You trailed behind the redhead, the only two people behind you were the two men who’d walked in after you.
Peter, who was most likely college-aged, lead you all down the hallways and to a door. He opened it, leading you all inside the room.
A man, who you assumed was Dr. Coulson, smiled warmly as you all filed inside. There was a circle of chairs in the center of the room.
The room itself was calming, with little decorations here and there.
You sucked in some deep breaths, hoping to at least try and calm your nerves.
Peter walked out of the room, and you turned your attention to Dr. Coulson.
“Hi, everybody. Go ahead and take a seat wherever you’d like.” He directed, sitting down in the one farthest from the door. You took a seat in a chair, and the redhead took the seat to your right. A man with a goatee sat on your left. You quickly surveyed the group.
There was the man with the purple shirt, and you noticed that his eyes were a blue-green color. Next to him was Dr. Coulson, and on Dr. Coulson’s left was a man, with dark skin and some of the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. Next to him was the man with long brown hair, and then next to him was his blonde friend. Next to the blonde was another blonde, this guy with longer blonde hair he tied back in a ponytail. He was also huge, and muscled to no comparison.
Next to that guy was another man, with dark brown or maybe black hair, and gentle brown eyes. He wore glasses, and seemed very shy. Then there was the redhead next to him, and then, well, you.
“I’d like us all to go around and introduce ourselves,” Dr. Coulson spoke again, “name, age, and a fun fact about yourself, if you feel comfortable doing so.” He invited the conversation, grinning. “I’ll go first. I’m Dr. Phil Coulson, you can call me ‘Phil’ or ‘Coulson’ or whatever you’d like. I’m 49 years old, and I’ve worked here for about fifteen years or so.” He looked to the man in the purple shirt.
“Uh, I’m Clint Barton. I’m 30 years old, and..I’m hard of hearing.” He turned his head to glance at Coulson, and you caught a glimpse of his hearing aid.
The man next to you introduced himself. “The name’s Tony Stark. I’m 45, and I’m a mechanic.” He answered confidently.
Everyone’s focus turned to you. You froze instantly, the introduction you’d been rehearsing in your head completely disappearing from your mind. Your mouth felt dry and your scalp felt hot, like you were standing in the hot sun.
The redheaded woman next to you leaned over to you.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I get nervous too.”
Though she didn’t say much, you felt a small bit of comfort as you cleared your throat. “Sorry. Uh, my name’s Y/n. Y/n L/n. Uh...I’m 27. Uh…I almost didn’t come here today.” Several people flashed you small smiles of friendliness, to which you smiled back.
“I’m Wanda Maximoff.” The woman next to you smiled warmly. “I’m 26. And I’ve been married before.” When she smiles, her nose crinkles.
“I’m Bruce Banner. I’m 43, and I’m a scientist.” The guy beside her said quietly. He seemed anxious, but also very kind.
“I am Thor Odinson. I am 30, and I had two siblings.” The guy with the blonde ponytail’s voice was loud and booming, but not in an aggressive way. He looked fun to be around, and he looked like the kind of guy you didn’t expect to see in a therapy group. But you could really say that about any of these people. They didn’t look traumatized, from what you could tell.
“Hi. I’m Steve Rogers, I’m 29 years old, and I’ve known this guy—“ he taps the brunette next to him's shoulder, grinning, “—my whole life.”
The guy next to him nods, confirming this, but he shifts awkwardly. You notice that he's wearing gloves, along with his jacket and all his other layers. Strange, considering the weather, but maybe he just had poor circulation.
He took them off as he fiddled with his hands. You noticed his left hand was a dark, dark gray, with gold lines in it. Metal, you realized. He caught you looking, giving you a look of distrust, of defensiveness.
No, you wanted to assure him. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck. You felt immeasurably guilty and he looked away.
"My name is James Barnes. I'm 29. I go by Bucky." He states, and it looks like he struggled to get it out. Steve smiles at him, and you can compare his demeanor to one of a golden retriever.
"I'm Sam Wilson. I'm also 29, and I used to counsel veterans down at a VA office in DC." The man with the beautiful brown eyes said.
"It's nice to meet you all." Dr. Coulson grinned as he looked around the group. "Even though you all come from different backgrounds and have lived different lives, you all have one thing in common: you all have PTSD, or struggle with a past trauma." He explains.
"Today, I’d like to talk about PTSD as we start this week’s session. I understand that many of us in this group have experienced past trauma or traumas, and are still navigating the effects of these experiences. I’d like to invite all of you to speak openly about any emotions or events that you’ve been struggling with, and how it has impacted your life. We’re here to support and understand one another, so don’t hesitate to share your stories. Are you all comfortable with going around and explaining why you came today? You can be as brief or descriptive as you'd like. I'd like to remind everybody that this is a safe space, and there will be no judgement here."
You sat quietly, not wanting to be the first person to speak up. Luckily, you didn't have to be.
"When I was 13, I watched my father have a heart attack. Right in front of me. I was real sick a lot as a kid, so it was rough on my Ma. She ended up passing when I was 18." Steve speaks quietly, nodding slowly to himself, keeping his eyes on his hand, which rested on his knee.
When it was clear he was finished, Sam spoke up next. "I was in the military. Served in the Air Force. Watched my best friend, who was also my partner of two years at the time, go down. Felt like I was just up there to watch." Sam recalls.
"My sister was four years older than me, and my brother was two years younger. She killed herself when I was 14. My brother overdosed when I was 17. My father favorited me, and it was clear that he did." Thor states.
"I was kidnapped as a kid, and my dad was shitty." Tony shrugs.
"I struggled a lot with...thoughts of suicide a lot. So..yeah." Bruce trails off.
"My dad was abusive." Clint explains briefly.
"I'm from Sokovia." Wanda began. "My brother died in a bombing there a few years ago, as our parents did when we were younger. My husband died last year in a boat accident."
Husband, you noted.
"My girlfriend died nine months ago." You force the words out, remaining cautious. Girlfriend. Not boyfriend.
Nobody reacted differently to your statement, and you smiled internally, though you couldn’t help but compare your response to everyone else’s. Yours didn’t seem as…serious as theirs. You felt a sense of guilt seeping in. Here you were, taking up a spot in a therapy group where someone with some serious issues could be sitting.
"...I was in the army. Got..got my arm blown off. And then, uh...cult." Bucky kept his gaze on the floor, even as Steve gently pressed his knee against Bucky's.
"Wait. 'Cult'?" Tony catches, brows furrowed and eyes showing the confusion he felt. Everyone, including you, nodding in agreement with him.
“Long story.” Bucky brushes it off.
“Okay then.” Sam shrugs.
You watched Dr. Coulson as he began to talk again.
—————————
He’d introduced a small game to help everyone get to know each other. It felt like a thing you’d do in middle school, but it worked nonetheless. You enjoyed it, even. It hadn’t been awful.
You knew a little bit more about everybody. Thor’s favorite color is red. Clint was good at archery. Bucky worked at the library. Steve had a long list of illnesses. Sam liked running. Wanda’s favorite flowers were sunflowers.
When it was over, you drove home. Once you got in your apartment, you opened your phone, clicking on a familiar contact.
“Hello?” Sharon’s voice sounded out from the phone.
“Sharon, hey.” You smiled awkwardly to yourself.
“Oh my God, Y/n. It’s good to..hear your voice. Wait. Did you go? To the meeting today?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“How was it?”
“It was uh, it was good.” You stared at your feet, realizing your shoes were still on as you stood in the living room. You kicked them off, listening to her voice.
“I’m glad to hear it. I..wasn’t sure if you’d go. The emoji was good to see, but..a bit vague.” She laughed.
“Yeah…sorry about that. And I’m sorry for…y’know, ghosting you and all that.”
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you seem to be doing a bit better. Hey, uh, I’m in the parking lot of the hospital. My shift’s in a few minutes, but do you wanna get some coffee? Whenever you have time.”
You paused for a minute, taking in some shallow and shaky breaths.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d..I’d like that. See you soon, Sharon.”
“Bye.” She said.
“Bye.” You echoed, listening to her hang up the phone. After a moment, you lowered it from your ear, smiling.
Maybe everything wasn’t so bad, after all.
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owlespresso · 3 months
Note
for the fanfic trope ask thing, i think fake dating + sleep intimacy is always so fucking good
pretending to date the esteemed Dr. Ratio has a bevy of benefits. you're not sure if his preoccupation with your health is one of them. 1.1k words
The night is late. Stars shimmer in broad bands of pure light above the resort, a reminder of what you miss so thoroughly when you're at home.
You stood on the balcony of your room for likely an hour, forearms pressed up against the cool railing. The air is warm enough to permit it, balmy and sweet with the scent of wildflowers and the ocean. The tides crash against the nearby beach, close enough to be heard as you stare into those unblinking cosmos.
The glass door slides open, breaking you from your reverie. Your companion lingers in the threshold, and you can already picture him with arms crossed, eyebrows raised in silent expectation.
"It's getting late. If you want to get a regular eight hours, I would recommend retiring now." Veritas insists.
"Eight hours, huh... You don't need to worry about me. I run fine on less." you inform him, drumming your fingertips on the cool metal of the railing.
"That may very well serve you while alone with only your research to worry about, but to 'run on less' at the wedding of an esteemed relative and colleague would be impolite at best and irresponsible at worst, given the hand you had in organizing this entire affair.” As per usual, he wastes no time with his scolding. You’ve been on the receiving end of many such lectures, especially after long periods of time spent without rest, buried amongst the old tomes and binders which contain the bulk of your work and research material. As a fellow scholar, you had once hoped he would understand the need to forgo sleep for the greater good—but he’s still standing there. 
You can practically hear him roll his eyes. This is fake dating. You’re dating for convenience alone. You needed a date to your friend’s wedding and Veritas wants to take samples of some of the flora on the island for his own convenience. There’s no need for him to reach out beyond that, and still—he’s been awfully intent on shepherding you around.
“Need I remind you of today’s incident? You nearly fell asleep on your feet. Had I not been there, you would have fallen nose-first into your mojito.” He continues on. 
"Fine,” you acquiesce with a sigh, if only to stop his blabbering. You would rather jump off than admit it, but he has a good point. The jetlag and your duties as assistant wedding planner have wrung you dry and kept you busy. So busy that you assumed you wouldn't be getting any good sleep until you returned home. You accepted that fate. Divine intervention reaches down in the form of one Veritas Ratio, whose nagged you to sleep twice now. Going for a third time tonight.
“Spare me your complaints,” Veritas clicks his tongue. The door slides shut behind you, curtains pulled tidily back into place. “You’ll be thanking me tomorrow, when you’re able to think clearly, make good decisions, and remain standing up for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”
And that, you suppose you cannot dispute. You navigate through the suite, passing the canopy bed and ducking into the lavish bathroom, hastening to the sink. Running through your bedtime routine serves to settle your ruffled nerves. There’s something stabilizing in those repetitive motions, in cleaning your face and brushing your teeth. The creature in the reflection of the bathroom mirror looks more honest, divested of concealer and powder and lipgloss. The luggage under your eyes shines dull and deep. 
“Do you see now?” Veritas steps up behind you. Even in sleepwear, he clings onto his bravado, broad chest and strong arms hidden underneath the gauzy, deep blue of his robe. The fabric is incredibly sheer, nearly transparent. You can very clearly see each defined plane of muscle held beneath, his broad shoulders and ridiculously big arms painfully clear. You don’t get your gaze wander any lower, for the sake of propriety. He cradles a half-empty wine glass in one of his hands. “Why getting an adequate amount of rest is so important?”
“You look like a recent widow whose husband died in mysterious circumstances.” you say, without really thinking.
He snorts. “Hush,” he gently chides. The wine glass is delicately slipped onto the wide sink counter. His fingers gently prise decorative pins and clips from your hair. Your spine goes rigid as he delicately removes each one, expecting the telltale sting of a pull. But not a pinch of pain pricks your scalp. He lays them out across the speckled marble. The gold and silver gleams underneath the lighting, the lights above the mirror set to dim. It’s easy on your tired eyes. 
You, against your better judgment, relax into the delicate touch. Your eyes flutter shut, palms pressing flat to the cold counter, general chaos of the day sliding off your shoulders like fresh rain. Any possible retort dies on your tongue, weary from all of the small talk you’ve endured.
“There,” Veritas hums. The last pin settles on the counter with a quiet clink. “All done. Now do us both a favor and come to bed. I won’t get a wink of sleep if you keep fussing.”
“I wasn’t fussing. I was standing on the balcony. Outside of our room.”
“And the door to said balcony makes the most horrendous squeal whenever you open it,” Veritas sighs as though immensely put upon. “Now come. You have accrued six hours worth of sleep debt in short time we’ve been here.” He leaves the bathroom, the silken river of his robe swaying around his toned calves as he departs.
“Alright, alright,” you grumble, following. 
Veritas, of course, is not one to let you get the last word in. He braces a palm at the small of your back for a fleeting moment, gently urging you forward. 
“Don’t sound so put out. I’m looking out for your well-being, like any prospective partner should. If anything, you should be thanking me,” he says, and you know you’re not imagining the slight, self-satisfied smile on his face.
The blankets have been pulled back, revealing the downy, cream-colored sheets beneath. It looks near heavenly after the very, very active day you’ve just endured. Divesting yourself of all propriety, you dive underneath the blankets. They’re buttery and cool against your warm skin, smelling of sandalwood and sweet, lovely lotions. The mattress creaks as he settles in beside you, but you pay him no mind as you melt atop the mattress, muscles released of the day’s tensions. This is a professional arrangement, after all. You have nothing to worry about from him.
“We’re not really dating,” you mumble, only after several minutes of tossing and turning and nestling into place amongst the sea of pillows. There’s a clicking sound. He’s turned off the lamp.
You open one eye to peer at him. He’s smiling, cheek gracing the palm of his hand. In the dim, his eyes seem to glow and glimmer like dying embers. “I’m well-aware. “
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