Lee Jeno X Fem!reader (idol AU)

conor_o_donohoe ig story 19.7.2023

Crying rn 🤣😔

Steam III

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitutionSmut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink

Length: ~15.4k | Fic Length: ~64k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: part 3 lets gooooo. crazy that this'll all be over soon. i hope yall enjoy the chaos and more shenanigans from two dumbies in love

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

If you hadn’t respected your grandmother so much you would’ve killed her for throwing you to the wolves. It was the inevitable end to the week's festivities, finding a husband. But so far, none the men brought forth sparked any reaction other than disdain and disgust. 

You hated it. You hated them. You hated the entire ordeal of selling yourself off like a prized calf at auction, batting your eyelashes and giggling at unfunny jokes.

But it was your duty. Whether you liked it or not, it had to be done.

That fact repeated in your mind like a mantra as another suitor fumbled through a story about his opinions on nothing.

However, no matter how hard you tried to focus on the men in front of you, all you could think about was the one standing off to the side behind you.

Wonwoo hadn’t mentioned the books you gifted him the previous night; one as an apology for Maoki’s childish behavior, the other as a thank you for taking you to the Lower Block. There wasn’t much time for conversation between the fiasco of the talent show and the early morning appointment with your seamstress he was forced to wait outside of. Maybe after lunch you would have the opportunity. Your copy of The Pearls of Drak was better off with someone who could appreciate it, but the Poems of Stars was a spontaneous choice to throw in. 

That particular copy stayed by your side since childhood, filled with smudged annotations, tear stains and bleeding ink from spilled drinks. You knew the verses by heart yet returned back to it again and again. For some reason, you wanted Wonwoo to read it. More than just the poems, you wanted him to read your copy; see if he found the same meanings you did. If he shed tears at “The Moon’s Widow”, or laughed at the old man in “The Constable”, or if he found “The Belle Dame” as beautiful as you did.

“And Capital City is fine, but the country is where children should be raised. Where they can run and play and learn in the great outdoors. I love the outdoors. Earth beneath your feet…”

Your grandmother meant for it to be an informal tea party. Chatting with multiple men at a time; a convenient way to ease into the courting process considering there were so many suitors to consider, to call upon them individually would take weeks. But the men talked over one another or attempted to subtly block each other from your view so you were forced to receive them one at a time at a table in the corner, a long queue spiraling through the chamber.

You assured it moved rather swiftly.

Duke Zul continued to droll on about his disdain for the city and how the countryside was far superior in all merits. He was old. Too old. As if he was around to witness the mountains form and the oceans rise.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” You smiled; the perfect picture of a demure princess. “But we seem to be out of time.”

The duke blinked, shocked by the interruption. He probably forgot you were there considering you hadn’t spoken since he sat down. It was a nice break from repeating the same set of sentences over and over again like a parrot but it didn’t help the throbbing vein in your temple.

Unfortunately, the moment Zul abandoned his seat, someone else stepped forward to take it.

“Your Highness.” Jao bowed so deeply the hem of his coat swept against the marble floor. A ridiculous shade of green that would only look fashionable on him.

“My Lord,” you greeted in return. “Please sit.”

Flopping into the chair, Jao nibbled on the almond cookies spread on the table before scanning your figure boldly. “Forgive me for being so bold but, you look ravishing this morning.”

“How presumptuous,” you snickered. Jao sang like a dying bird but he always managed to make you laugh.

He picked a piece of lint off his shoulder. “I must say, I’m unimpressed by my competition. They all seem so…plain.”

Jao’s attendance was more for appearances than anything else. He was the spare and could do as he pleased, who he pleased; those who pleased him were decidedly male. Everyone knew it. But his family was powerful and no one made a peep when he demanded time with an old friend.

“Yes, it takes a man of character to wear orange trousers and a green shirt.” You hid your smile in a teacup. 

“I’ll have you know this is the style in the Earth Kingdom.”

“I was unaware the Earth Kingdom was so fond of circus clowns.”

Jao’s brow furrowed. “My brother has been on the throne for ten years and you didn’t know?”

“My deepest apologies.” You dunked one of the cookies in your own tea and bit off the corner.

“I’ll forgive you,” Jao said. “Now, how about we go down to the sages and get this entire ordeal over with? This hard to get game is starting to lose its charm.”

“I—“ you started.

“Your Highness,” Wonwoo interrupted, eyes trained suspiciously on Jao. “You have a meeting.”

“I do?” you asked, eyes wide. There were plenty of meetings happening but none required your presence. Your grandmother made sure of it.

Wonwoo nodded slowly, dragging his eyes away from Jao and setting them on you. “Yes. Now. With Minister Vasa.”

There was no Minister Vasa at the palace this week. There was no Minister Vasa in the history of the kingdom. What was Wonwoo doing?

“Right…Minister Vasa. Sorry, Jao, I must go.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Jao nodded before leaning close, “When you're done with your guard, send him my way.”

“You are horrible,” you whispered.

“Horribly in love,” Jao sighed, snagging another cookie before skittering off.

The line of men groaned in objection as you passed but you ignored every single one of them, cooing empty pleasing words to soothe them. There were more important things to take care of. Like whatever game Wonwoo was playing at.

Out in the hallway, you rounded on him. “Is there a reason I have a meeting with Minister Vasa all of a sudden?”

He had the sense to look embarrassed and a little guilty; ears red, throating bobbing as he swallowed. You tried to object when he grabbed your elbow and steered you further down the hallway away from the room filled with eavesdropping lordlings.

Around the next corner, he finally released you and spoke. “You looked uncomfortable. I was trying to help.”

You blinked in shock. You hadn’t thought about Wonwoo paying attention during your meetings even with him a few feet away. The thoughts you had about his opinions were limited to his amusement at seeing you paraded around, the comments from royals with barely enough brain cells to function. You hadn’t considered he was watching you during the entire ordeal. 

You took a step closer, backing him towards the wall. “You think Jao made me uncomfortable?”

“He asked you to elope with him!” Wonwoo argued.

“Jao is a harmless flirt.” Another step forward, and Wonwoo’s back hit the wall. He didn’t seem to notice.

Wonwoo grumbled. “He didn’t seem harmless.”

You stepped closer, leaving barely an inch of space between you. “You don’t think I could handle Jao myself?”

Wonwoo seemed to finally realize the position he was in, eyes widening when your hands rested on his chest. “You’re right, he probably needed someone to protect him from you.”

“Oh, I’m just sooo terrifying, aren’t I?” Your eyes locked on his mouth. 

He dipped his head, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “I heard you have a nasty habit of freezing men to walls.”

“Baseless rumors,” you said breathlessly, barely an inch away from kissing him.

Down the corridor, shoes shuffled along the floor, knocking you from whatever trace possessed you to kiss Wonwoo in the hallway where anyone could see. 

They were distant but gaining swiftly. Afraid it was someone coming to speak with you about how rude it was to leave your own party early, you searched for somewhere – anywhere – to hide. Luckily, you recognized the woodland tapestry on the far wall and pulled it aside, shoving Wonwoo behind it before joining him. He tried to speak but you silenced him with a finger against his mouth.

“Why are we in the dark?” Wonwoo whispered, lips dragging against your finger. The words tickled across your skin where you pressed together.

You shushed him, ears perked as the footsteps drew closer.

There wasn’t much space in the cubby to begin with and paired with his broad frame, you were close enough his chest brushed against yours with each inhale. Wonwoo eyes widening when you leaned a little closer; pressed a little firmer, crowded him against the wall with nowhere to retreat once more. He was so warm and solid, completely unlike your element. Intoxicating. Even with someone right outside, you couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. Your hand slid down to his chest and rested on the waistband of his pants.

No one expected you anywhere; you could easily raise on your toes to kiss him and nobody would have a clue; just like you wanted to before being interrupted by reality. You could drown in him, completely swept away while people shuffled right past the tapestry none the wiser. Only swollen lips and ruffled clothing to give you away.

He must have thought the same, eyes darting towards your mouth before he leaned closer…

Only to tuck his face in the crook of your neck and trace the curve with the tip of his nose.

Your fingers curled in his shirt as his breath puffed against your skin, a flare of goosebumps raising with a shiver. The click of footsteps passed and disappeared, but you remained tangled together in the dark.

“Thank you for the books, by the way,” Wonwoo whispered. 

“Did you have a chance to read some of it?”

“A few pages,” he sighed, hands flexed on the dip of your waist.

“Sorry Maoki ruined your copy.” Your own arms snaked around his shoulders, fingers toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck until Wonwoo shuddered. This close, you could feel the blood rushing in his veins, the throb of his pulse beating heavily. Like that night in the forest. “What did you think?”

“The Belle Dame seemed familiar…”

“How so?”

Before Wonwoo could answer, a new pair of footsteps echoed down the corridor. 

“I swear, I thought she went this way,” a squeaky male voice said.

You jolted back, the space between you and Wonwoo growing as you listened intently to the conversation clearly not meant for your ears. His leg still pressed between your legs and your hands bunched in his shirt but whatever haze filled the space evaporated.

Another deeper voice responded, “And what are you planning to do when you find her? Demand a private audience? I doubt she even knows your name.”

“I’ll have you know we spent yesterday afternoon in the gardens together. We would have had a lovely time if it wasn’t for her guard dog getting in the way.”

Maoki.

“She’s absolutely vile,” a new voice chimed. They all stopped right in front of the curtain where you were tangled with your guard dog in an incredibly compromising position. “If she wasn’t in line for the crown then no one would put up with it!”

“Even with the crown, she’s not worth the trouble,” said the deeper voice.

“I don’t know…” said Maoki. “There’s some satisfaction in taming a woman as head strong as her.”

“If she doesn’t bite your head off first.”

“Women like her just need the right man.”

You didn’t need to be tamed by anyone, let alone someone like Maoki. You moved to reveal yourself and remind him of that fact but Wonwoo stopped you with his hand on your elbow, the heat of his palm warming through the delicate fabric of your dress, his thumb rubbing small circles.

“I’ve never met such a beautiful woman with such an ugly disposition.”

When they moved on, you stayed rooted in place, flushed with embarrassment. It would have been one thing to hear their opinions of you alone but in the company of someone else the insults made you flush. Did Wonwoo agree? Were you the vile woman people only put up with because of the glittering crown atop your head? Because it was his job? Was his only motivation the fact you held his life in your hand?

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked.

The security of the dark, a safe place where dangerous thoughts existed in excess, vanished. He was too close. To you, to the truth, to melting the careful mask of regal indifference crafted from years in the court. You weren’t able to keep it in place as firmly with Wonwoo around and it was terrifying being so close without the armor of a crown. You were practically naked in front of him, only able to hide because he couldn’t see the pinch of your mouth.

You swallowed the embarrassment like thick medicine, healing the parts of you softened and hardening them back as they were. “I’m fine. I’ve heard worse.” 

Not wanting to look at him, you left the alcove and strode down the corridor back towards your apartment. You’d make up some excuse about needing your seamstress before the ball tonight or taking a nap to fill the afternoon, find something to read. Or maybe hide away in the bath until your fingers pruned. Whatever it took to avoid the pity in his eyes.

You didn’t need any excuse. The dress you originally planned to wear needed finishing alterations. Your seamstress Maya pinned and unpinned the hem of your gown dozens of times, hiding her exhaustion with your indecision under her breath. It was beautiful. The red fabric poured down your figure, clinging to every curve and the open back revealed just enough skin. No jewels or embroidery, just simple silk. Something felt missing but after the fifteenth attempt, you and Maya called a truce.

“A little bird told me you left your party early this afternoon,” Han said as she pinned a comb in your hair. 

Sami dabbed perfume around your neck. “With Won—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You watched in the mirror as they exchanged a look over your head, thankful the other servants had dismissed themselves for the night already.

Han grabbed a delicate gold necklace from the stand on the counter and clasped it around your neck. “You like him.”

“Of course I do.”

It felt horrible and freeing to admit it. You spent the entire tea party imagining if it was him sitting across from you and not the others. Just you two. Alone. Talking about books, and his friends in the city. Exchanging stories from childhood. You wanted to know exactly how he got the silver scar at his brow. Share the time you and Mingyu tried to scale the garden walls and ended up with matching scars of your own on the center of your palm.

You liked Wonwoo so much, maybe even felt even more than that; but your feelings didn’t matter. He was who he was and you were what you were. 

Han plucked another pin from the velvet tray and pressed it into your hair. “Then what’s stopping you? You’re the princess. If you can’t be with whoever you love, then what hope is there for the rest of us.”

“I—“ you began to argue, eyes closing. The vein in your temple throbbed. 

“If you really wanted to be with him, you’d go to your grandmother and tell her,” Sami said.

“What if he doesn’t want me?”

Han looked to Sami with disbelief. “She’s joking.”

“The tournament is the day after tomorrow.”

“I know,” you said, focusing on your hands in your lap.

“Are you sure you don’t—”

“I want to get this over with. In silence. If you don’t mind.”

They wrapped up their work as you asked and left with a gentle squeeze on your shoulders. With no more reasonable delays, you exited your room and found Wonwoo sitting on one of the couches reading a book in a crisp black uniform.

He looked up as you approached, wide eyes skirting over your body. The book tumbled out of his hand and onto the cushion as he rose to his feet.

“You look—” he started softly.

Not wanting to hear whatever he had to say, you cut him off. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

The ballroom was packed. You smiled at the crowd even though your heart squeezed, mind replaying over what Wonwoo was going to say over and over again but the crowd inside the ballroom swallowed you whole; an easy distraction. Men and women introduced and reintroduced themselves; like packs of wolves in glittering gowns and fine suits, teeth gleaming in the light of the chandeliers. In the chaos, you forced yourself to concentrate on the years of court manners ingrained in your bones. You were an untouchable island and you would survive tonight and the day after. And when the week was done, you’d be married and whatever Wonwoo planned to say would be forgotten.

Music and laughter bounced off the walls, the dance floor a sea of jewels and colorful silks as couples twirled around. From the ceiling acrobats tangled themselves in silk ropes, flipping and twisting, unraveling just to climb back up and start again. Actors stood on pedestals, skin painted and wearing masks to resemble different spirits; they froze in place as partiers circled them. Through the massive windows of the far wall, you watched hundreds of lanterns float into the sky from the gardens.

One of your favorite festivals and the usual cheer felt impenetrable. If you couldn’t enjoy it, then you’d distract yourself from feeling anything at all.

You danced with every man who asked, successfully avoiding the edge of the dance floor where he waited next to your grandmother. The music swelled and faded over and over until their faces blurred together as you were led straight into the next song. You knew Wonwoo was watching. He was always watching, but you avoided his gaze even though it prickled across your skin. 

When the current dance ended, you curtsied to Kabaar who walked away with a disillusioned frown; most of the men you danced with did. What they anticipated, you didn’t know. You tried to smile and nod and flatter but insincerity rang clear.

The orchestra took a break, leaving you to hover awkwardly on the floor without a partner. Your feet were sore and your head hurt but there were few options to hide without the cover of music and dancing. A walk in the garden? Perfect place to be alone in the dark with Wonwoo. Sneak out the servant's entrance? Your grandmother would kill you. You could douse yourself in wine again but that left you back in your room with Wonwoo. The only option was to take your place on the dias next and rest your feet until another song started.

“How many more are left?” 

“Just two,” Lin said. “Gyan and Char.”

A servant walked passed with a tray of wine and your fingers itched to tip the entire thing over, give yourself a reason to leave early. You snagged a glass and downed it quickly before grabbing another. Your eyes rolled. “Wonderful.”

Lin opened her mouth, no doubt to chastise you for the vulgar display but Gyan materialized as if summoned, offering his hand. 

You turned, a smile plastered back in place. The wine already flushed through your veins. You finished your second cup before taking his hand and spinning back out to the floor.

The rosy glow from alcohol served little relief. Gyan jerked you around the floor, narrowly missing your feet with each step. “You are a lovely dancer, Your Highness. Like a deer.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, teeth clashing together as he pulled you roughly; completely ridiculous. In your tipsy haze, your self control slipped from its tight leash; on instinct, you looked at Wonwoo for the first time tonight. His eyes widened in shock before he schooled his features back to neutral. Then, when you didn’t rush to look away, he offered an awkward smile.

The first time you looked directly at him all night and it was just as dangerous as you knew it would be. 

Luckily, the music changed for the last dance and someone else appeared out of the crowd to distract you.

“Your Highness,” Char announced with a deep bow. “Please honor me with a dance.”

“Of course.” 

Char danced far better than Gyan. He whirled you around the dance floor with graceful expertise, none of the stomping of Gyan or loud chatter the other suitors maintained. The orchestra swelled to fill the silence lingering between you and Char as your mind wandered thousands of miles away.

You stumbled when Char broke the delicate silence. “Have you ever been in love, Your Highness?”

Over Char’s shoulder, you looked straight into a pair of brown eyes again. He seemed prepared this time. The room faded under Wonwoo’s gaze full of unspoken things, full of all the moments someone or something interrupted. A jolt rocketed down your spine. Did he like to dance? Did he know any of the court dances? His bending was graceful enough, he’d probably pick them up quick enough if you showed him. Would he hold you like Char now? Hands proper, high on your bare back just below your shoulder blades. Or would he keep you closer than necessary? Hold you close while spinning across the dance floor. And if he did, when you looked up and met his eyes, would he kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world?

Char spun you away, breaking your staring contest. With your back to Wonwoo, you looked up at the man guiding you across the floor as he spoke again. They weren’t the rich brown you’d grown fond of. They were green and full of pity.

“With your blessing, I intend to compete in the tournament tomorrow and if I win I hope we could grow fond of each other. I think we both understand what it's like to be torn between our duty and our desires.”

“I—” you stuttered. “I would be honored, my lord.”

“I believe we must do the best for our nation, even if our hearts lie elsewhere.” he said, his voice soft, as though the words were almost for himself as much as for you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, voice quivering. Was it that obvious? 

Char looked unconvinced. “Then I apologize for misreading the situation.”

The waltz continued.

Wonwoo stood at attention next to the raised dais where your grandmother sat, her ladies floating around with their maddening laughter as you spun across the dance floor gracefully. Maoki had squeezed himself into the first dance, stumbling about the dance floor, struggling to keep up with your strides. It would have been comical if Wonwoo wasn’t focused on finding a way to kill him.

If she wasn’t in line for the crown then no one would put up with it!

The crown on your head was the least alluring thing about you. If anything, it was the most frustrating part and the entire reason Wonwoo warred inside his mind at all times about his feelings. 

There was so much more, so much you didn’t show the others but Wonwoo witnessed behind closed doors. You were funny, charming, stubborn, infuriating…

He couldn’t figure it out. One moment you were dragging him into dark corners, pressing yourself against him, trying to kiss him. And he wanted to do it. He would have if Maoki didn’t interrupt, spewing nonsense. But then the next you scurried away and ignored his existence. 

It was exasperating. The worst part is he didn’t know if he wanted you to stop. He wanted you. He wanted you in the garden when your lips curled into a frown as you read. He wanted you in the training pavilion when you launched a torrent of water at his head and laughed. He wanted you when you threatened a noble with a smile on your face. He wanted all of it; you in all your forms. He wanted you all the time. But he couldn’t have any of it. 

By the end of the week you’d have a husband and Wonwoo would be back in the barracks with nothing but memories to haunt him.

As every man but him took a turn guiding you across the floor, Wonwoo grew more restless. There were no knowing looks or silent jokes. There was nothing. You were completely absorbed in whatever they said, smiling and nodding along. But he saw the strain at the corner of your eyes, the muscles in your neck taunt and not from perfect posture.

And then, during Gyan’s turn, when he marched you around like the man had frogs in his pants, you looked at him and Wonwoo barely managed to catch himself from racing across the room and whisking you away to demand an explanation. He stayed rooted in place, watching as the music dissolved and the Queen announced her departure. You didn’t wait before leaving as well, striding out the open doors with Wonwoo struggling to follow. 

Servants trailed with him but Wonwoo ignored them. He spent enough nights listening to the prolonged routine of their fussing, this was no different. He fell into line next to them, eyes glued to the dip of your spine visible from the open back of your dress. His fingers flexed at his sides, itching to reach out and feel the heat of your skin against his palms.

Through the door from the sitting room to your bedchamber, he watched from the corner of his eye as they removed your outer robes and jewels before ushering you into the bathroom out of sight. The few servants left prepared your bed before funneling out until Wonwoo was left in stifling solitude with the weight of his feelings. 

He had no business being jealous and yet it squeezed his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. Seeing you bite your tongue pained him. Wonwoo wanted to hear whatever scathing comment bubbled on your tongue, sharing it like a secret only between the two of you. To see that careful wrangled control slip, unravel a shred of your facade to confirm you were still beneath it all. 

Most all, he wanted to wash away that lingering sadness clouding your eyes.

He couldn’t bear the thought of you upset, willing to do anything to fix it. 

He knew one way; a completely selfish, ludacris way to make you feel better. He paced his room like a caged lion as he turned the idea over and over; weighing the benefits and drawbacks. No matter how foolish it would be, the same point reared its head: you’d like it. It was stupid but before he could think more about it he was standing outside your door, hand raised to knock. Just as his knuckles met the hard wood, it shot open. 

“Oh!” you gasped, jumping back in surprise. “I was gonna call a servant for tea. Did you need something?”

Water from your bath clung to your hair, dampening the fabric of your nightgown and making the white fabric sheer around your collarbone. 

“No, I—” His tongue felt too big for his mouth. Like a little boy again gathering the courage to speak to his schoolyard crush, Wonwoo shuffled on his feet as you stared at him confused.

“You what?”

“Do you still have those servant clothes?”

There was a long pause before you nodded.

“Have you ever been to the festival in the city?”

You shook your head no. More beads dropped from your hair with the motion, sparking in the low candlelight as they fell before blotting your top. Wonwoo did not look. 

You weren’t wearing bindings beneath your nightgown. It made perfect sense but Wonwoo never thought about it before. He tried hard not to now.

“Do you want to?” he asked.

Whatever consequences conjured in his mind about sneaking you out of the palace dissolved as a beaming smile took over your face. He couldn’t help but smile too.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but we have to hurry or we’ll miss it.”

You whipped around, beeling for the gigantic bed in the center of your room. Wonwoo instinctively followed. You pulled a pile from beneath the mattress before looking back at him.

“Turn around,” you commanded.

Wonwoo did as asked but even though he couldn’t see you undress, he heard everything. The woosh of your nightgown hitting the floor, the sound of you shimmying the pants up your legs. Two times you’d been completely naked only a few feet from him and it drove him mad. He forced his body to remember why he was doing this; even if he wanted to crowd you down into the mattress and show you all the ways he was better. More giving, more devoted. Wonwoo was going to give you something those lordlings and princes never could: a real taste of the city.

It was easier to navigate the tunnels now that Wonwoo knew where they led. Emerald Park laid deserted and with the celebration at the palace still raging on, the Noble District was still. Wonwoo thanked the spirits for his months of mundane patrols, easily avoiding the footpath of guards as you followed close behind. This late at night most windows were dark and the ones that weren’t, framed people still partying and drinking, completely unaware of anyone sneaking past their door. 

It didn’t take long to reach Merchant’s Row where the streets were packed with more people than usual, most wearing colorful spirit masks and costumes for the occasion; giant paper puppets of spirits floated through the air, lanterns of all colors burning brightly as fireworks exploded overhead, the moon a bright backdrop to dazzling displays.

You fell into step next to Wonwoo, fingers tangled together to keep close. He tried not to think too much about it. 

“Why are they wearing masks?” you asked.

“Tradition.”

Wonwoo snagged two half masks from a merchant stall, a dragon for himself and a parrot for you. Your eyes crinkled as he pulled it over your head. This close he could count every single eyelash. He had the sudden urge to kiss you. Not the wanting kisses he’d come to expect with you. He wanted to kiss you, hold your hand, and just… be. Was he imagining you leaning closer or was he? Your eyes dropped to his mouth and then—

Someone barreled into him before he figured it out.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry!” the man slurred. “Wait, Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo turned to find Soonyoung staring at him with glazed eyes and ruddy cheeks stark against a green unagi mask pushed up on his head. Clearly, the man had started partying early like every year. Wonwoo smelled the reek of fire whisky and there was smudged lipstick hugging his collar. 

“I thought you were working at the palace?”

“Yeah, they, uhhh” Wonwoo panicked. “They gave me the night off.”

But Soonyoung didn’t care for his explanation, he was staring past Wonwoo and staring directly at you with wide eyes.

“Wait, you’re that girl from the warehouse,” he shook a hand in your direction, the bottle of firewhisky clutched in it spilling over. “I’m a huge fan.”

You looked unsure, passing a weary glance to Wonwoo and stepping closer. “Um, thank you?” 

“No, thank you. I haven’t seen Wonwoo get his ass handed to him like that since we were kids.”

“Well,” you smirked. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Do you work at the palace too?”

Wonwoo felt you go rigid. “Something like that.”

Soonyoung leaned conspiratorially towards Wonwoo, whispering loud enough even people across the street could hear through the clamor,“I like her. Here, have this.” 

He forced the half-drank bottle into your hand. Wonwoo watched as you took a confident swing and immediately regretted it.

“This is disgusting!” you sputtered. 

“The more you drink the better it tastes! Nice to meet you!” Soonyoung called before the crowd swept him away.

With his friend gone, you turned back to Wonwoo, face twisted in disgust. “People drink this?” 

Wonwoo snatched the bottle and took a long swing, eyes set on yours. Your face glowed, sweat from every pore thanks to the heat of packed bodies; your lips still wet from the whiskey as your eyes trained on his tongue licking away a rogue drop at the corner of his mouth. 

It was you who broke first this time.

Wading further down the street, you staunchly ignored Wonwoo and combed through the wares of vendors. Talismans and scrolls of all kinds promising a safe winter crowded most tables, others presented jewelry and pottery, spices and cakes. The buzz of whiskey numbs his brain but not his skin. Your hand is still tangled with his as you tug him along. Wonwoo realized he doesn’t really mind shopping, at least with you. You don’t buy anything but you ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over everything like you couldn’t have it all if you really wanted it.

The apothecary’s stall proved to be trouble.

Colorful vials and jars lined the table like neat rows of soldiers in different colors, all with various contents; some ingredients and some finished products. Most were unrecognizable to Wonwoo but he knew the one in your hand well enough.

“That’s not for you,” Wonwoo said as he plucked the vial from your hand and placed it back down, ears burning.

You immediately picked it back up and cradled it to your chest with a furious scowl. “How do you know?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac,” he said harshly. “Planning on seducing someone?”

You don’t need to, he thought. The bottle of fire whiskey in his hand became a dead weight instantly. He took about swig to distract himself as you scrambled to put the vial back.

“For a couple such as yourselves, I’d recommend this one.” The merchant, an old woman with deep wrinkles and silver eyes, lifted a similar vial filled with an inky blue liquid. “Just the thing to help the seed take.”

“The seed?”

Wonwoo pulled you away before she answered. He couldn’t do anything about the images in his head, they were there whether he liked it or not. You, him, back in your bed; so much naked skin; planted between your legs for hours until you both gasped for air. Where he could learn what every hitch of breath or tiny whimper meant, play with you until you're nothing but a soaked mess for him to clean up with his tongue. And only when you begged him for it would Wonwoo give you his cock. Again and again until the inferno inside him ceased.

You wouldn’t beg, though. He knows you wouldn’t because he wouldn’t be able to drag it out long enough that you’d have to. He’d give you everything, cave before you even thought to ask. 

“You don’t need to be such a brute,” you huffed and shrugged his hold off your arm. 

“She’s trying to sell you fertility potions!”

“So! It’s not like I was planning to buy it!” 

In Wonwoo’s head, he imagined the night much differently. Loose flashes of you laughing, gleefully enjoying the chaos of the holiday while he stood back and soaked the sound in. This was anything but that. He didn’t want to argue with you. He especially didn’t want to endure a hard on because of an argument with you; a fact he would never admit even under torture but there was something about the way the air crackled around you when you got fired up. But that hadn’t been the point of sneaking you out of the ivory palace walls.

He wanted a night where you weren’t a princess, and he wasn’t your guard; a night where you were just you, and the insurmountable mountain of reasons his fondness was dangerous didn’t threaten to drown him like a tsunami. Apparently the spirits didn’t agree.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you,” you sniffed. “If you show me where to get one of those things.”

Wonwoo followed your gaze to a group of kids stuffing their face with fried dough covered in powdered sugar. Luckily, he knew exactly where to get one but the velvet purple tent of a fortune teller lured you in.

You tugged at his sleeve, dragging him closer. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“She’s a hack,” Wonwoo snorted.

“What’d you say?” an older voice called through the opening. A woman came out of the darkness, hunched over with knobby fingers and thick dark hair with bolts of gray.

Wonwoo began to corral you away. “Nothing, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Wait!” she croaked. Her face might have been aged but her silver eyes crackled with energy. “Madam Via sees the unseen, hears the unheard. Step inside and I can find the answers you seek. Or, perhaps, a glimpse of the future?”

Wonwoo shot a glance at your hopeful face before scrubbing a hand down his own and asking, “How much?”

“Three gold coins for her, five for you. I don’t like smart mouths.”

He kept his next remarks under his breath while handing over the coins.

“Come this way dear, I can tell you’re the more pleasant one.” Madam Via returned back inside the tent, leaving you and Wonwoo alone.

“Well, at least she has one thing right,” you snarked.

“I doubt she knows what happened in that greenhouse.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before disappearing behind the curtain.

Wonwoo didn’t like the idea of you going in alone. What if the fortune teller recognized you? As unlikely as it was, the idea made him uncomfortable. But he remembered that you were you and if anyone could handle themselves it was you. Your bite was far worse than your bark and Wonwoo trusted you to handle yourself should need arise. 

It hadn’t stopped him from trying to eavesdrop. 

But the thick purple walls of the tent trapped any noise from the inside. He rocked back and forth on his toes, the chatter of passersby filling the silence alongside the chimes of glass beads strung up around the tent. Having grown comfortable standing at your side at all times, to have you suddenly disappear felt like half of him was absent.

He counted the number of beads in the curtain covering the entrance, traced the golden embroidery of the tent walls until his eyes returned to their starting point. He finished off the bottle of fire whiskey and the weight on his shoulders lightened as his thoughts turned hazy. 

You barrelled out of the tent with an impatient tuff before masking your features. Whatever Madam Via told you, you hadn’t liked it. Your mask was gone and Wonwoo pulled his off too, suddenly feeling silly.

“What did she tell you?”

“Don’t make unnecessary journeys. Oh, and to avoid Komodo Shrimp for the next few days.”

Wonwoo scrunched his nose. “Why?”

“Probably because they aren’t in season. I don’t know!” Your eyes rolled. “She said to send you in.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m not going in there.”

“Awww, big scary Wonwoo afraid of a little old lady,” you teased.

He sighed, knowing there was no way to get out of it. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stay right here.” He ducked inside.

“Welcome,” Madam Via greeted from her seat at a round table covered with a dark cloth, its surface cluttered with cards and brilliantly colored crystals he’d never seen before; a clear crystal ball sat in the center.

The smell of incense strangled the air, smoke curling towards the ceiling. Inside the tent, low candles illuminated the space in a warm glow, the walls covered in tapestries of different colors and images. It made him feel claustrophobic.

“Sit down, you’re letting all the cold air in.”

Wonwoo mumbled an apology and sat on a cushion across from her.

Madam Via produced a ceramic teapot and pushed it into his hands. “Warm this.”

He didn’t think to ask how she knew he was a firebender. The teapot was cool in his hands but Wonwoo slowly pushed heat into it until steam started curling from the spout. The old woman used the time to spoon dried leaves out of different containers into matching cups and set them in front of him.

“Now, pour the tea.”

“I thought I was here to get my fortune read, not for a tea ceremony,” he quipped.

“I like your girlfriend so I’ll let that one slide but next stupid question and I’ll put a curse on you.” She shook a knobby finger at him. “Now drink your tea.”

Wonwoo wanted to argue but thought better of it. The tea tasted earthy, notes of jasmine and rose bloomed on his taste buds. He finished it quickly, barely allowing it to linger on his tongue before swallowing the last mouthful.

Madam Via snatched the cup from his hands and examined the contents. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

“What?” Wonwoo tried looking into the cup.

“Reading the leaves is an art. Look at the sides of the cup, what do you see?”

The leaves stuck in odd patterns around the rim and walls of the porcelain. The top formed a clear ring but the sides seemed like nothing more than tangled threads. At the bottom the sediment from the leaves resembled a deformed blob. None of it meant much to him.

“I see…a dirty tea cup.”

“What that girl sees in you,” the fortune teller mumbled under her breath. “Look, there. The leaves form a heart at the bottom.”

“That's a blob,” he said.

This time she swatted him with a fan.

“Fine! It’s a heart. What's the big deal?”

Madan Via swatted him again before explaining. “Hearts mean love and relationships. With the knots on the sides it could be conflict. A crossroads…maybe. A path split in two, but you are caught at the intersection, unable to move in either direction. Any recent trouble with your girlfriend?”

Wonwoo’s ears burned red and he mumbled, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You love her, she clearly loves you. I’m not sure it’s as complicated as you think.”

“I didn’t say anything about lov—“

“It radiates off you both like the stench of the western harbor. A blind man could see it.” Madam Via rolled her eyes like the idea exhausted her. “I won’t pretend to understand whatever reasons you have for not being with her but what I do understand is you don’t meet a woman like her every century.”

Wonwoo knew she was right but he didn't feel like giving her the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Now, see how some of the leaves form a circle at the rim? It indicates a happy union is on the horizon. So maybe if you had any sense you’d find a way to make things work.”

Yeah, right. Anger burned in his chest. This lady clearly prayed on the hopeless, selling promises of futures with no possibility of coming true. A happy union? In what world would he be allowed to marry you? He’d have better luck airbending than changing the way the world worked. Maybe if you both ran away and started over, became the couple that existed here in the Middle District away from expectations. But how long would that last? You’d never agree anyway; and he didn’t want you to. If he had you, it’d be nothing less than all of you. Crown included.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything.

“Anyway, the future’s a mess. You’ll figure it out, or you won’t. Kiss the pretty girl you love or don’t.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Wonwoo shook his head, shifting on the cushion. “Are we done here?”

Madam Via’s eyes rolled for the umpteenth time and took a sip of her own suddenly steaming tea. “She asked about you.”

That kept Wonwoo in place. “She did?”

“Of course she did.”

“Whatd she ask?”

“I’m not a charity,” she sniffed. “For two more gold I’ll tell you.”

Crazy old snit. Wonwoo rolled to his feet and ducked out of the tent without looking back. 

Of course, you were gone. It really shouldn’t surprise him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he seethed. He shouldn’t have been that angry; not after spotting you barely a few steps away watching the other festival goers dance but Madam Via’s words wove a cord of frustration deep inside him and it boiled into hot vexation. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he clenched it shut.

You took one look at his face and laughed. “Who ruffled your feathers?”

“You were supposed to wait outside the tent.”

“I’m maybe ten feet away. Is it that big of a deal?”

“What if you got lost? Do you know how to get home?”

“I’d figure it out.”

“Before or after getting in trouble with the guards? Again.” Wonwoo burst out, unable to contain himself.

To your credit, you didn’t stomp your foot like he knew you’d like to. Instead, you iced him out completely and focused back on the people skipping around the plaza to the rapid drumbeat.

Happy union my ass.

He hadn’t enjoyed watching from the sidelines as other men led you around the room earlier. He hated it. Especially when Gyan stomped you around the room like an idiot. He hated that he took so much notice of the fact you pointedly refused to look at him until that point, and then again when Char spun you around the dance floor. As much as he didn’t want to dance now, Wonwoo knew this might be the only chance he’d get.

“Do you… do you want to dance?”

“Are you going to yell at me again?”

Wonwoo shook his head and proceeded to forget everything but relief as you took his hand. The bad mood woven into his veins by the fortune teller fell away, flooded with content to replace it. He spun you around and around to the beat of the drums, time fading until it was just you two and the world outside blurred. This was what he wanted; to be the only two people in the world. Together. 

The next dance involved lots of spins and lifts. As with most peasant dances, partners passed around before coming back and each time you turned away from him, Wonwoo’s heart zapped with something as you came back, beaming from ear to ear. 

He decided he’d dance until his legs stopped working if that smile was a reward.

The music swelled, drums and claps increasing in tempo. On the next pass, Wonwoo snagged you around the waist and pulled you into his chest. Whether it was the fire whiskey or all the spinning that made him dizzy, Wonwoo didn’t know; but it didn’t matter when he bent down and kissed your cheek – a fleeting touch of lips against your skin. It wasn’t anything grand, but as soon as he pulled back, you both froze and his face flushed.

“I—” he faltered. There was no explanation strong enough for why he did it. 

Then you rolled up on your toes and kissed him with unmistakable certainty, right there on the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor, not a care who saw. Your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, your hands wrapped around his neck keeping him close like he’d consider pushing you away. Wonwoo pulled you closer to banish the thought. He didn’t want the heat of pressing you into a wall where no one could see. He wanted the comfort of kissing you out in the open, like any other man in love was allowed to.

Love.

A deafen clap of thunder roared from the sky forced you two apart. Wonwoo jerked back and blinked wildly, pulling you closer in confusion. Something wet hit his face and then again and again as the clouds opened and released thick curtains of rain that soaked you both to the bone in seconds.

Wonwoo grabbed your hand and pulled you through the streets, back towards the palace. The roads cleared thanks to the storm sending everyone inside for cover. He dodged around corners but no one paid attention to a pair of young people running home from a typhoon.

The Noble’s Quarter was dark and Wonwoo knew the guards on patrol would be waiting out the storm at the watch station, waiting for the change in shifts given the late hour. He barreled through the streets with you in tow. Lightning illuminated the streets through the thick sheets of rain but it was muscle memory that guided him back to the statue in the park. He pried open the inconspicuous opening and descended inside, waiting at the bottom for you to join.

One second he was watching you descend the ladder, next he was on his back, cushioning your fall.

“Wonwoo! Are you okay?”

He coughed from your elbow plowed into his stomach.. “What the hell—“

You scrambled up right, sitting on his stomach as your hands caressed his skin, looking for damage. “I’m so sorry! I saw a guard and—“

The rain had matted your hair down to your skull, clung to your lips. He swallowed. Rain rushed outside, a dull hum to match the ring in his ears. You drew water from his hair and he felt the sore spot at the back of his head warmed as you healed the worst of the damage. Wonwoo tried very hard to keep his hands on your waist and not slide them up, pull you down, and kiss you breathless. Your hands traveled down his neck, ghosted over his jaw and made him shiver.

There was a shout from above and you sat up straight, eyes wide.

“We need to get back.”

You both took off down the tunnels, feet pounding against the ground and breath panting loudly. Finally, the familiar passage outside your office rushed up. But you took a last minute turn to a new door Wonwoo had never seen before.

It led to your bedroom.

You waltzed ahead, shrugging off your tunic and stripping to your bindings without a care. Wonwoo had seen you in far less but it didn’t make the roar in his ears any less demanding despite the pain in his back demanding attention. You tossed your clothes back under your bed and turned to him, guiding him to sit while he tried to stare at anything other than the press of your breasts against the silk.

“Does this hurt?” you asked, fingers prodding the tender flesh of his back.

He’d certainly bruise come morning, some lingering soreness if he was lucky. Wonwoo couldn’t find much reason to care about it. Fatigue already blurred the corners of his vision. It’d been such a long night already. If his options were staying awake to find a healer down in the infirmary or going to bed and dealing with the consequences later, he’d trudge down to his room and see to it first thing in the morning. He’d tally it along with all the other wounds he found himself collecting in your presence. “I’m fine.”

“Let me help.”

In the end it was the softness in your eyes that made him acquiesce. In the dark, with the candles and lamps extinguished, the worries that kept him grounded floated away. The rain pounding against the windows lulled his heart. He always slept best when it rained. You disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a pitcher of water.

“Take your shirt off.”

Wonwoo spurted, suddenly completely awake. That was out of the question.

“I can’t heal you through your clothes,” you huffed. 

He swallowed again, remembering the last time you healed him in the field. But this time would be different. He’d let you heal him, maybe kiss you again, and then he’d go to his room down the hall – alone – and pretend it was your hands touching him until he came and fell asleep.

He tugged the soaked shirt over head and closed his eyes.

If he was of sound mind, then the severity of the situation would have him rushing to flee. Alone with the princess, in her bed, with his shirt off and your own clothes crumbled on the floor painted a damning picture. But only the cool relief of the healing water dragged across his spine registered; knotted muscles relaxed, the sting of raw skin dulled and then disappeared under the gentle passes. His eyes closed before leaning forward to give you as much room as possible to continue the hypnotizing pattern.

“Better?” 

You snickered at Wonwoo’s grunt of approval before continuing.

“You’re so tense.” Your palms dug into his shoulders with more force. No longer were they hovering over the skin, now the water provided a wet glide as you massaged the knotted muscles into submission.  

A groan of relief clawed its way out before Wonwoo could swallow it back down. “I’m in charge of a princess that refuses to stay out of trouble.”

“She sounds awful.”

Wonwoo peered over his shoulder to find you focused on healing a cut on his upper arm, a pleased smile spread across your face as the skin knit together in a faint pink line. “She’s not so bad.”

His early arousal stirred just out of reach, stoked into an ember from the fan of your breath against the short hairs at the base of his skull. If he leaned back he would feel your breasts pressed against him, your lips in reach. He wanted to, he really really wanted to. He almost did when you pressed your mouth to his shoulder.

But you pulled away and the cold that rushed into the empty space brought the tiredness he’d ignored all night forward. He could feel the sun just below the horizon; dawn wouldn’t be far off, promising another full day as minder to your meetings and tea parties, listening to entitled nobles fawn over themselves.

Exhausted, Wonwoo slumped forward.

He’d move to the sitting room. All he needed was a minute to find the energy…

You woke shivering. Stripped down to nothing but your under bindings, you tugged the covers tighter, soaking in the pleasant warmth radiating across your back; pushing back into it for more. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, the corners of your room stained dark.

A warm breeze tickled across your shoulder. Odd. Perhaps you forgot to shut the window last night before bed.

It's then you registered a weight across your waist and a rhythmic press against your back in time with that comforting gust of hot, humid air. Consciousness flooded in with each grating moment; until you were awake enough to slap behind you, making contact with something fuzzy and hard. 

A masculine grunt responded, accompanied by a tight squeeze of the arm across your waist, dragging you closer.

Wonwoo.

He nuzzled further into your neck with a sleepy sigh, shifting his leg until his knee pressed between your own.

You considered slapping him again; however, the weariness of last night is too much to overcome for another swing. The consequences of him spending a night in your bed seemed so small next to the relief of his body heat against the cold. Wasn’t his job to protect you? Your greatest threat since he came to the palace was only the lingering cold you felt when he wasn’t around.

You remembered what the fortune teller said last night. 

“Oh dear, Temperance in reverse,” the woman tsk’ed. Her tent was thick with smoky incense, candles burning low to cast the room in shadow.

You eyed the upside down illustration. “What does it mean?”

“Imbalance, struggle, strife. Being pulled in a hundred different directions. There’s conflict between what you want and what you think you can have.”

You can say that again, you thought.

“Maybe something to do with the young man outside?” she continued with an inquisitive brow.

You refused to respond and pulled another card from the spread, laying it next to the first one. A couple wrapped in a warm embrace stared back at you.

“Well, there you have it.”

“Have what exactly?”

“The Lovers. You might be used to making decisions from the head, but you must embrace what your heart wants. A powerful relationship can make the conflict Temperance warns of clearer. Or maybe the relationship itself is causing you confusion.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“And why not? He’s easy enough on the eyes despite the attitude.”

“It's not…there’s nothing going on between us. He wouldn’t—and I can’t—“ you stammered.

“What does your heart want? Think about that and pick the next card.”

Your fingers brushed over the deck, itching to pinch one of the gilded edges and pull it out. You picked the bottom card and laid it down on the table.

“Oh, this is just too easy. The Two of Cups. Embrace your heart. Even if it seems impossible, maybe you’re making things overly complicated.”

It is impossible! you wanted to scream.

As if Madam Via heard your thoughts, her face softened a fraction. “Listen, life is too short not to take advantage of good things. You say it’s complicated? Maybe it is.”

“So what do I do?”

“You do what every person who has ever been in love does: enjoy it while you have it and worry about the future later.”

Worry about the future later…

Maybe the crazy old woman was right. For once in your life, you wanted to enjoy things for what they were in the moment. Like in the warehouse, or against the wall at the market, in the field, in the bath, in the alcove yesterday. Like last night when you danced with Wonwoo and no one cared, not a single soul paid you two attention and he kissed you so infuriatingly close to your mouth before acting like he hadn’t. And when you kissed him after because if he was going to kiss you he needed to do it right. You wanted simple and what you had right now was as simple as it got. Wonwoo asleep in your bed. Wonwoo’s arm tight around your waist. Wonwoo’s cock heavy against the curve of your ass.

There wasn’t anything more simple than stretching against the length of his body, pleased that the tantalizing firmness greeted you with a stretch of his own. Your thighs squeezed on instinct.

You’d seen plenty of men shirtless, through training or tutoring sessions with healers. But seeing men half dressed and feeling the defined muscles so intimately against your back were very different. 

You rolled over to face him, buried your nose against the soft divot of his collarbone and breathed. Sleep tried to claim you again with the gentle rise and fall of his chest but Wonwoo didn’t let you. He was too tempting. Smooth warm skin, soft stomach your nails trace over mindlessly, his own slow breath ghosting against your forehead. You wanted to wrap yourself in him like a blanket and spend the day tucked away. Simple.

The hand around your waist tightened again as you brushed a kiss against his throat. You wanted to kiss him again like last night, when no one was around to offer reminders of how bad an idea it was. Somehow, you knew if you spoke the entire illusion would shatter. All those expectations would rush in; the reasons you shouldn’t want Wonwoo the infuriating way you did – can’t want him. So you didn’t speak. Instead, you feathered more teasing kisses across his shoulder, up his neck, and then a final one on his lips.

Take advantage of the good things. Like how Wonwoo’s hand skated up your back, the pleased groan in response to your nails digging into the crease of his hip bone.

He kissed back, slowly at first, dry chaste passes of his mouth across yours. The kind of kisses you could wake up to every morning without complaint; the inferno of previous encounters completely dormant. You didn’t think about anything else, only the easy way he rolled on top of you for the sake of kissing; tangled your fingers between his own and pressed you further into the mattress. The morning stubble on his chin scratched teasingly along your skin. Your hands acted on their own, cascading down his sides and across his back. The band of his pants brushed the tips of your fingers and you pushed beneath to find more intoxicating heat his body provides.

It was like that for a long time, returning the lazy kisses on your cheeks and chin, nose following the curve of your jaw. But then your legs spread to better accommodate his weight and he was there. The contact stoked you out of sleepy bliss, igniting desperate want. Your hips couldn’t help but curl up slowly, rocking against the length of him pressed right against your bindings.

A million reasons not to do it clouded the air but there was one good reason: you wanted to. And Wonwoo obviously wanted to. What you two did away from prying eyes was a secret you could live with if it meant you got to have at least some part of him.

Wonwoo rolled agonizingly slow between your legs. Each thrust of his sheathed cock pushed tiny mewls from your lips as his trailed further down your neck. He kissed everything he could; the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, the hollow of your throat, down to the seam of your bindings. All while his hands warmed your skin.

He tugged at the knot of your bindings until the silk strips slackened; tracing every newly bare strip of skin with his tongue as you arched and pushed more of your chest into his mouth. 

“Please,” you sighed. You free hand knotted in his hair to give a deliberate tug. “Please.”

Each kiss across your chest and stomach only pushed you closer to the edge of insanity. You coaxed a hand between your legs for the smallest bit of relief, but Wonwoo was already there. He tugged at the small knot keeping the fabric secure until they loosened and then there was nothing between your bodies; you sprawled beneath him completely naked and exposed in the cold sunlight. He mouthed across your thighs, stubble leaving you raw for his tongue to sooth away.

This must be exactly what the maids giggled about over your head. It didn’t seem so funny now that you had it for yourself; the need for him urging you to claw out of your own skin. 

You whined and squirmed under the first tender push of his fingers, parting you for his tongue that followed soon after. The sensation was wholly new and unlike anything you’d felt before. Nothing, not the things you’ve done to yourself or the memorable way Wonwoo fingered you the first time compared to the sweltering glide of his tongue.

“Wonu,” you gasped.

It must be the validation he needed because timid licks became heavy laps across your clit and sucked with enough force you jolted from the bed. Your hips rolled into the intoxicating friction. If you were frustrated before by the incomparable satisfaction of his fingers then this is a whole new level you’d never find again; completely addicting.

He flicked his tongue, fingers curved deep along your inner walls. You were so wet. So embarrassingly wet you’d blush about it if you had the brain power to even consider caring. Wonwoo made sure you didn’t, heady grunts of his own muffled in your core as his hips flexed down into the mattress.

You writhed for it, sweat beading along your skin as instinct took over and every twist of his tongue was met with a grind of your hips along it. Another drag of his mouth and your jaw clenched, legs kicking in an attempt to scramble away but Wonwoo pulled you to him — further down the sheets  — and smothered himself between your legs; rewarding your dry moan with the stretch of another finger. Your eyes went fuzzy but you keep them open because he’s not wearing a shirt and the muscles roping along his spine are too mouth watering to look away.

Fingers itching for something to ground onto, your nails raked through his hair, over his bare shoulders until faint pink lines criss-crossed over pale skin. He moaned again, humped the bed in search for his own pleasure and you sat up on your elbows to watch. 

It's all too much. The first wave drowned you. A squeeze along his fingers, and your hips rocketed off the bed; chasing the rough suck of his lips on your clit. You chanted his name, or something like it, until branded your tongue.

And then it was over. The comedown fizzled through your veins, muscles pliant as they twitched with aftershocks. You didn't — couldn’t — think of anything other than the dull throb and the terrible emptiness inside you as he removed his hand.

Wonwoo peppered more kisses along your stomach and thighs, slow and lingering as you caught your breath.

You pulled at his hair until his face was level enough to kiss, your tongue snaking along his lower lip until he opened his mouth, the taste of yourself evident but not undeterred. He kissed back eagerly as if suddenly you both were more awake. 

Your hand curled into his pants and swallowed a hiss of pleasure as you stroked his cock. You wondered how he would taste, if there was enough time before your maids arrived to kneel between his legs and make him shake and beg like you had; if he’d take the time to teach you exactly how to make him come and let you practice again and again until you were both satisfied.

A prod at his chest with your free hand had him rolling over, lap the perfect seat for you to command him however you saw fit. You kept him locked in a kiss, panting and whining into it as two sets of hands forced his pants down his thighs. He sucked a nipple between his teeth, rougher than before, like he couldn’t get enough of anything. You weren’t any better; jerking him off, grinding against the flexed muscles of his thigh. Wonwoo’s hand cupped yours around his cock, squeezing your grip until it tightened like a vice and fucked himself through it; his stomach collapsed from a sharp gasp.

He was so close, a vision of messy black hair and flushed cheeks beneath you, chest glowing with sweat. An arch of your hips was all it’d take for him to be inside you, filling you, driving away that aching need he’d left since that first night you kissed him. You dove down and lapped at the tender dip of his neck to distract from the foolish idea. 

Your name cracked from his lips, voice low and almost pleading. You were back beneath him in a flash; hands fisted in the sheets as he parted your legs and hooked them around his waist. His cock dug into the softness of your stomach before he moved lower, until the tip nudged your entrance, just breaching as you shifted up to search for more and then…

A sharp rapt at the door shattered the silence, followed by Han’s voice. “Your Highness!”

Wonwoo popped up over you, eyes wide in shock like he hadn’t realized exactly what you both were doing. You shoved him off and rolled from the bed.

“Put your clothes on!” you whispered, words like acid on your tongue. Truly, the last thing you wanted him to do was redress and face the day. You’d much prefer stripping the rest of him and spending the entire day in bed with Wonwoo between your thighs.

However, want as you might, having him in your room was threat enough to both of your reputations, nevermind that you spent the night with him; let him touch without a single protest in ways no one ever had. Almost let him have everything.

Lunging for your robe, you managed to cover enough to avoid suspicion of having Wonwoo in your room. Alone.

You answered the door with too much enthusiasm.

“Your Highness! Wonwoo is—in here?” Han peered over your shoulder to where Wonwoo stood by the window – thankfully – fully dressed. Only the mess of his hair gave inkling to what happened only moments prior, your core still tingled with after effects.

“Yes! Yes, he was helping me with a, um…”

“A bird,” Wonwoo nodded.

“Yes, I slept with the windows open last night to watch the fireworks and woke up to a bird…”

“A big bird!”

“Huge!” you exclaim. “And Wonwoo helped me…get the bird out.”

“Hopefully the poor thing is alright,” Han tutted, approaching the window to look for the imaginary bird she’d never find. 

“It flew right out, perfectly fine,” he rushed to explain.

Han’s shoulders sagged an inch in relief. Apparently, that was enough for her to drop the entire issue of Wonwoo being in your room. “Would Your Majesty like for me to draw a bath? Such stress so early will not serve you well for your meetings.”

“That would be wonderful, Han.”

Wonwoo stood cemented in place as Han disappeared into the bathroom. 

“Shouldn’t you…”

“Right, yeah,” he nodded before striding out the door.

The door to your suite clicked shut with Wonwoo’s departure. Immediately you collapsed into the bed once again, batting away the comforting warmth still lingering from entangled bodies. The pillow you landed face first in still smells like Wonwoo. Like the rain from last night, the powdery smoke that always lingered around him, and the cling of soap. Without thought, you inhaled until your lungs stretched uncomfortably.

So preoccupied, you didn’t hear the pitter patter of Han’s slippers until she stopped at the foot of the bed with a wicked gleam in her eye..

“It was huge, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Out in the seating room, Wonwoo forces his thoughts to the most unpleasant ones he can think of. Hoshi’s sweaty socks, the burn of a thousand fire push ups, freezing showers in the barracks…

He knew it was a bad idea. You had to know it was a bad idea too.

Mingyu lent against the fair wall outside Wonwoo’s room, shaking his head.

“A bird? Really?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo growled.

“I don’t even need earthbending to tell you're a shit liar. You’re lucky I sent Han in there and not the more chatty servants.”

Wonwoo’s face burned. “I’m not lying.”

“Your shirt is on backwards.”

Wonwoo whipped his head down. His shirt was buttoned and proper but the fact he looked is incriminating enough.

“Whatever you two are not doing, I recommend really not doing it because she’s going to marry one of those princes and next time it might not be someone as gullible as Han who catches you.”

“We weren—”

“Those councilmen are looking for any reason to challenge the line of succession. If it looks like YN can’t control herself – like she let a man below her station compromise her – then her marriage prospects go down. Way down. As in not getting married.”

Mingyu was right. Sneaking you out last night was a risk. A risk he’d been willing to take at the time but a risk nonetheless. But what happened this morning was dangerous, to you, to him. If Han hadn’t interrupted, what would be happening right now? Would you be welcoming Wonwoo between your legs? He’d gotten carried away, forgotten the expectations you carried and why feeling you around him was a horrible idea. And if Han hadn’t knocked? If she stumbled in like a servant was meant to, then what? 

Would she simply have turned a blind eye to her sovereign welcoming her guard between her legs like an eager lover? 

“The Queen invited you for an audience this morning. Wash up and get dressed. You stink.”

“Did she say why?”

“Yeah, I ask her to explain every decision she makes.” Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Be ready in an hour. One of the maids will get you.”

“What about—”

“I’m on babysitting duty today.”

Mingyu left his room and Wonwoo contemplated drowning himself in the bath. 

If the Queen knew what he’d been up to then she had endless ways to ruin his life. His mind wandered wild through the possibilities as he washed up. It seemed no matter how hard he scrubbed his face, your scent and taste clung to his senses; the sweet sound of your voice gasping his name, the wet heat of you on his cock. 

Even the degenerate acts of the morning hadn’t outweighed the comfort of waking up with you in his arms, the gentle kisses across his chest that nearly convinced him he was still dreaming. Anything after that was beyond the realm of reality as far as he was concerned. 

Whatever the Queen knew, or suspected, Wonwoo decided what he had with you was worth the risk. He enjoyed the time he was privileged enough to be granted, the short opportunity to love you and be your friend. Now he’d have to pay up. And if the cost was his life, so be it.

Wonwoo liked rules. The palace was full of them, some more exasperating than others but they kept him from losing his mind trying to figure out how to act. 

Rule one: under no circumstances was it okay to touch the princess.

Rule two: do not speak unless spoken to.

Wonwoo at least had a chance to abide by the second one. Maybe it would earn him clemency for breaking the first one so recklessly.

“Captain Jeon, sit please.”

The Queen perched on a cushion in the center of the Azure Chamber. Candles and lanterns kept the space warm from the storm raging against the windows, fighting to break in. Even the deafening thunder is nothing compared to the crash of his pulse flooding his ears. There were no servants along the walls or bustling back from the table to serve the queen. She was utterly alone and Wonwoo remembered how you cornered Galin the same way.

Spirits help him.

Wonwoo sunk to the cushion across from her, stomach sinking deeper into the floor. He folded his hands in his lap, head bowed. It was easier to maintain bravado in the privacy of his room. In front of her, he felt like a scolded child waiting for judgment. 

“Tea?”

He nodded mutely. 

She gave a dry laugh. Through his eyelashes, Wonwoo saw her knobby hands spoon tea leaves into the porcelain cups as she talked. “You can speak, I won’t take your head for it.”

Not detecting a trap yet, Wonwoo answered. “Yes, Your Majesty. Tea would be great.”

Steam curled above the cups, a thin curtain between the two sides of the table. The queen seemed to appraise him and without realizing, Wonwoo unfurled his hunched shoulders and sat up straighter. 

“What do you think of my granddaughter?”

This is it. A clear trap so she could banish him. 

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the tea cup in his hands. “She will be a great queen, Your Majesty.”

“I have no doubt about that but what do you think about her? Not as queen but as a person.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’ve had dozens of men sit in front of me and wax poetically about my granddaughter and her virtues. She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, she’s patient—” 

Wonwoo snorted and immediately flushed with panic.

“You disagree?”

“I think…” He risked looking up at her and found her lips quirked in amusement. It gave him the confidence to speak freely. “If that’s all they can compliment then they haven’t been paying good enough attention.”

“Now why do you say that?”

“She's beautiful but she’s as stubborn as a camel elephant. She is intelligent but she’s aggravating.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t listen. Her patience only lasts until the tip of her nose.”

The queen stared at him, surprised by his honesty.

“What else do you notice about my granddaughter?” 

“She’s smart, caring. People respect her. Maybe not the nobles but the staff do. Even in the,” he trailed off. The queen already knew about the nights out of the palace but he felt like those moments - when his friends sung your praises after the fight in the warehouse, when the fortune teller grew fond of you immediately - those were private. 

“Even where, Captain Jeon?” She leveled him with an expectant look. “When you snuck her out of the palace and into the city?”

He could have denied it; spun some story about how he had no idea the princess snuck out right under his nose, no knowledge of the maze of secret passageways beneath the palace. Wonwoo sat up straighter and decided if he was going to go down, he’d do it with dignity. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She returned the porcelain tea cup in her hand to the lacquered tray, peering at Wonwoo with a smirk. “At least you have honor. Tell me, how did the citizens react to their princess in disguise.” 

“The people in the Middle Districts didn’t know her but they liked her. She earned their respect without them knowing who she was.” He didn’t admit he liked you the moment he laid eyes on you, before he knew your name, or how fierce of a competitor you were; he liked you more after. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I heard she did quite the number on you in the warehouse as well.”

“I—” Wonwoo silenced himself by taking a too large gulp of very hot tea.

“Captain Jeon, do you think anything happens in the palace that I don’t know about? I believe you witnessed her meeting with Galin.”

“You knew he was stealing and did nothing?”

“Who do you suppose whispered in his ear to approach my granddaughter about a new investment? You’ve met the man. He’s not bright enough to tie his own pants let alone run a scheme. It is better to keep the arrogant ones on a shorter leash than the rest.”

“So you set her up?”

“My granddaughter is stubborn and refuses to take the easiest path. Some lessons must be learned the hard way. She needed to learn not to take their word at face value.”

“But why?”

“The royal court is like a poisonous garden, some of the most unassuming plants are the deadliest. She needed to be tested and I believe she would have failed if not for you.” 

He sat speechless.

“Finicky thing, water. It isn’t unyielding like earth, but it’s stubborn in its own way. You can’t keep it where it doesn’t want to be. No matter how you try to contain it, it will find a way around any obstacle. Water can be patient, slowly cutting the path it wants over years and years. But it can also be unwilling and destructive.” She looked to the dark windows, lightning reflecting off the panes. “My granddaughter needed to learn when to act and when to lay in wait for the right moment. At this very moment the nobles are in a frenzy because Galin’s meeting with her. They don’t know what was discussed but they know his grandson no longer resides in the temples his family has learned firebending at for generations. They know his daughters have returned to his estate in the countryside. Her actions have rippled across the court.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Oh, quite the contrary. I think she did a wonderful job taking advantage of that old idiot. There are a few nobles that respect her already. The ones that don’t are close friends of Galin’s and are afraid of her.” 

“Good.”

“And you love her.”

“Yes, but—“ Wonwoo choked. There was honesty and there was stupidity and he feared he crossed the narrow line. “I didn’t mean…”

“When I was her age, I loved a man who was considered below my station. A guard who I became friends with as a young woman in the palace. There were hundreds of reasons not to pursue him and I was too afraid to pursue what I really wanted. I was afraid the nobles would not respect or fear me if I chose love over my duty. It’s one of the greatest regrets of my life.”

“But the king?” Wonwoo trailed off. The queens face grew fond, as if remembering the late king.

“I learned to love my husband and we grew very fond of each other,” she admitted. “But I don’t want my granddaughter to grow fond of a man when she has the opportunity to avoid the mistakes I made and marry a man she loves.”

She was talking about him. You loved him. Or, at least, the Queen thought so. And she was on his side. The queen, the one person with the power to make things work, wanted him to be with you. It didn’t feel real.

For a moment Wonwoo thought you wouldn’t appreciate being left out of such an important conversation. If he wanted to be with you, marry you, then the first person he should’ve spoken with about it was you. He imagined the anger, the hopefully empty threats to refuse given he didn’t ask you if you even wanted to marry him. But he also realized it was a good thing he didn’t because if he knew you wanted him completely – entirely – and there wasn’t a way to give you that, he’d never live with the disappointment.

“Tell me what to do.”

The queen pressed her hands to the table. There was a loose family resemblance but it was obvious in the raise of her chin and the stubborn tilt of her brow  “The tournament for her hand starts tomorrow. In all honesty, I find it barbaric but the nobles respect tradition even if it’s a formality.”

Wonwoo knew about the tournament vaguely. Eligible royalty would declare themselves interested by competing, the winner married you. But Wonwoo wasn’t royal.  “I can’t compete. I don’t have a title. I don’t have anything.”

“Nowhere in the rules does it require competitors to be titled. I believe, in my most recent reading this morning, it said competitors only need to be in good standing with the crown. Since I am the crown and I like you, I’d say that’ll do the trick. Besides, you don’t need to prove you are as good as those brats. You need to be better and based on Aiko’s appraisal of you, I’m confident you’ll succeed.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you love my granddaughter?”

Wonwoo answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Enough to marry her? To commit your life not just to her but to the kingdom?”

Then, Wonwoo hesitated. He knew he loved you, that he wanted to be with you. But did he want to rule a country? Live his life on display for the world to see? With a silver crown balanced precariously on his head?

“It’s a lot to ask. And it won’t be easy. Many of the nobles will object, even ones who I’d consider friends. But I’m quite fond of change. And you might be what this kingdom needs.”

Was he ready to help rule a country? He didn’t have the education or the money the others had; didn’t possess the connections from generations of high society. What could Wonwoo offer you that no other man could? What could he give you beyond himself?

But he remembered those times you sought him out in a crowd. When you drowned in the weight of responsibilities, he managed to pull you back above the surface. When you rushed ahead, he pulled you back. And when you didn't let anyone see the true you - you trusted Wonwoo to see and understand.

The only thing Wonwoo could give you was a sanctuary to ease your burdens.

Maybe that was enough.

“I’ll do it.”

You hid in the farthest edges of the garden, where the bristle grew in thick unkempt patches and the hedges nearly reached the sky. The worst of the rain had given way to a steady hammering, clouds thick enough the moon couldn’t shine through. Your shoes were ruined; caked with mud. The saturated ground refused to swallow more water, puddles the size of swimming pools spanning from one side of your escape to the other. Wind whipped cheeks burned from each stinging drop of rain and the warm tears you couldn’t stop. It was dull knowledge at the back of your consciousness. 

Your heart laid heaving at your feet, half of it left in your room with Wonwoo. The other half still sitting in your chest ached for him too. Neither part belonged to you and you don’t know when it happened; when Wonwoo stole your heart and left you missing him even when he was within arms reach.

Or maybe you gave it to him that first night you snuck down to the warehouses and watched match after match for hours, only paying attention when Wonwoo was at the center of it. Or in the market when he saved you and didn’t have to. In the forest when he treated you like an equal. Maybe you chipped a small part away for him each time and now there was nothing left; nothing except for the lonely void for him to fill in ways he never could. 

But it didn’t matter. What you felt wasn’t important, whatever it was couldn’t come true. There wasn’t a magic wand to wave and fix everything that was broken. What could you do? What could you do when there was no way to be with the only person you ever wanted?

You wanted to find Wonwoo and demand an answer; shake him until all the pieces fell into place. 

However, your grandmother swept him into a meeting and kept him all day. None of the servants would tell you where they were and even when you discovered their location the guards wouldn’t budge. You found yourself pacing like a caged tiger, back and forth in front of the doors; hours dragged on and no one emerged so the gardens offered a respite from the anxiety. 

Dread filled its place.

You felt the rain all around. Everything it touched dully tickled at your senses. That’s why you weren’t surprised when Wonwoo finally approached after spending fifteen minutes watching you from the archway. 

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

“How horrible,” you said. You kept your eyes glued to the pond at your feet, how the surface rippled wildly from the rain. “What do you want?”

Wonwoo appeared in front of you, kneeling in the mud at your feet, only an arms reach away and yet so much further. “I’m seeking an audience with Your Highness.”

“Didn’t you spend all day with my grandmother?” You didn’t even attempt to hide the hurt in your tone. The last day of your freedom and he spent it locked away from you. 

“Unfortunately, she couldn’t answer my question.” He’s soaked to the bone, the crisp lines of his uniforms limp from the weight of water. You’re at home in a storm like these. Wonwoo looked woefully out of place.

You swallowed thickly. “And what is your dilemma?”

“I'm in love with the queen-to-be. And I'm inquiring if she loves me too.”

The tears came hot and fast; you tried to blink them back but it was useless. Your head tilted back slightly, inviting more rain to sting on your face;  they mixed with the tears washing down your face.

“I…” Your voice cracked. Wonwoo leveled his gaze with your own, searching for something. The mist of the rain blurred the space between you. “Of course I do and try as I might, I can’t figure a way out of it.”

An eternity passed in silence. Wonwoo watched you, the pathetic sight of red rimmed eyes and soaked clothes. He didn’t shy away from the ugliness you felt. He leaned closer, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, as if testing the waters. You let him.

“What if I had a way?”

“Wonwoo…” you sighed and looked away. You couldn’t bear to look at the desperate longing in his eyes; or how it mirrored your own heart.

“Don’t say my name like that.” He moved closer,  hands resting on your thighs. You felt everything through your dress. His hands are almost unbearably hot even in the cold rain.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re saying goodbye.”

The rain fell harder. Deafening. You exploded with it, solemn tears turning into angry ones. “Isn’t that what we’re doing? After tomorrow this ends.” You motioned towards your hands. “I won’t have you standing next to me if I can’t have all of you. I won’t. I won’t do it.”

You’d been lulled into a false sense of security the past week. Dealing with reality in the daylight and having him in the shadows and the quiet dark of the night. You fooled yourself to believe it was enough, at least for the time. But you had to marry and your husband – no matter how forgiving – would never tolerate your closeness with Wonwoo; you wouldn’t be in their shoes. 

Wonwoo didn’t let you hide from him. He cupped your face, forced you to look at him but you shut your eyes and refused; pressed his forehead to yours so his breath ghosted over your lips with his next words. “If you could marry me, would you?” 

You wanted to scream It doesn’t matter! It didn’t matter that you loved him. It didn’t matter if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You couldn’t have him. The world worked in absolutes and this was one of them.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s impossible. Why even—”

“I didn’t ask what was impossible. I asked if you’d marry me.”

You didn’t hesitate to finally open your eyes and meet his brown ones. “Yes.”

“Then trust me,” he asked softly. Begging.

“What exactly did my grandmother say to you?”

Wonwoo blanched, blinking as if he hadn’t expected you to ask. 

“I—We have a plan. You’re not going to like it…”

“But?”

“She told me not to tell you.”

You exploded from the bench, crowding down on Wonwoo.  “Are you serious? You expect me to blindly follow whatever plan you made with her and I don’t even get to know what it is”

“It has to be done a certain way.” Wonwoo stood and swept you into his arms. There was no one out here to see, no one stupid enough to catch an early death. Besides you two. “Just trust me. Please?”

You sank into him, savoring the comforting warmth he brought with him everywhere. You traced the hem of his collar with soft fingers. You did trust him. It wasn’t natural for you to put your faith in many people but time and time again Wonwoo showed you he was a good man. “Fine. But if this doesn’t work I’m going to drown you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he whispered into your hair. “Now will you come inside? It’s disgusting out here.”

Back in the seclusion of your apartment, you pinned Wonwoo to the couch, commanded his lap and sucked the rain from his lips. You lingered, sunk into the warmth of his hands tenderly tracing your back; the same comfort of a warm summer breeze softly brushing your skin even in the chill of damp clothes. You both lingered there. Tucked away from the rest of the palace, an unspoken promise lingering in the air. You kissed him until the aching in your chest dulled.

You didn’t know what the morning would bring but you trusted Wonwoo. 

And that was enough.

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---

Blow by Blow | 0.4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

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Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

Bradley’s car pulls into the parking lot at seven, prompt — on time for once. The radio is playing loud, some seventies tune that he hums along to with little regard for the neighbors. Head tilted back, humming softly to your own music, the water pours over your face.

You scrub shampoo through your roots, swaying softly to your music. It’s a relatively calm track, you’re hoping for a relatively calm day. The plan is to take Tank for a walk through the park down by the marina, then come back and work on the website a bit — Nat’s going to train with you in the afternoon, then you’ve got the evening to yourself.

It’s a nice change, having this much freedom over your day. No asshole telling you what to wear, telling you that walking the dog takes too long, dragging you along to whatever he wants to do.

Bradley’s brows furrow. He pops open the glove box and riffles through it before patting down his jean pockets again. No keys. “Fuck.”

It’s the first time that he’s been on time in a week. If he has to call Jake to borrow some keys then he’s just going to get another lecture. He knows exactly where his keys for the gym are, somewhere on the floor of your apartment.

Sliding out of the driver’s side of his Ford Bronco, he slams the door with little regard for the neighbors again — he half does it just to let you know that he’s coming. Then, he jogs up the metal stairs that lead to the door to your apartment and knocks loudly on the glass panel in the door.

Immediately, he’s met with a big bark. Loud, deep and right by the door from the sounds of things. Yeah… Natasha had mentioned a dog. Bradley knocks the glass loudly again, unfazed by the barking.

He lifts his hand, ready to hit the glass hard when he hears you unlocking the door. The blue wood pulls back and opens just slightly. He has a split second where he can glance you up and down, get a good look at you, still wet and wrapped in a towel. Once his gaze lifts, he’s met with an unimpressed scowl.

Next, Tank lurches forwards, barking wildly as he aims himself at the stranger just outside the door. You put your knee against the doorframe and block Tank with your body.

“I need my keys, I dropped them here the other night.” Bradley ignores the dog and looks back to you without greeting you. He’s in kind of a hurry, Jake’s going to be here any minute and Bradley could do without being ridiculed today.

“Say please.”

It slips your mouth before you’ve even had time to think about it. It’s just the demanding tone and the way he looks at you. This is what would get you in trouble with Jett. You both seem equally surprised at what you just said. You swallow softly and step back.

“Sorry, I just — I’ll get them—“

“Can I have my keys, please?” Bradley asks softly. You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, holding the towel against your body.

“Yeah, stay there.” You say quietly. You turn your back on him and nudge Tank back with you, catching hold of his collar and gently guiding him back towards the living room. Bradley’s keys are on the counter, approximately three steps from the back door — you had found them while cleaning last night and had been planning on returning them.

One step from the door, two, and then you let go of Tank’s collar. He seems calm enough now, you know him well enough to know that he’ll stay that way as long as Bradley stays outside.

Bradley slips his phone from the pocket of his gym shorts and checks the time. Jake’s going to be here any second. He steps inside, his strides are longer than yours and he’s close enough to you in one step. Too close, as Tank decides.

The dog growls sharply, then leaps up at him again, barking and snarling. The same puppy that had been curled up on the couch with you, wrapped in a cozy blanket and snoring, an hour ago.

You gasp, spinning around and catching the towel to keep it from falling. Bradley’s closer than you’re expecting, he can see the panic in your eyes when you turn. You catch hold of Tank’s collar and pull him back.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to—“

“I told you to wait outside.” You frown at him, brows furrowed, heart pounding in your chest. Maybe a braver person would yell at him now. You’d like to. Bradley glances down at your dog, still growling lowly, now standing between you and him with his heckles up.

This isn’t the first time that this dog has stood between you and a guy who has gotten too close.

Bradley takes a couple of steps back, bumping into the doorframe as he raises his palms in defense. You might forgive him, but Tank’s not so quick to recover. He continues to growl, deep and rumbling, warning the trainer to stay outside.

You swallow softly, fingers curling around his keys without looking back. You take them from the counter and toss them towards him. Bradley catches them in one hand.

“Thank you. Thanks. I’ll — I’ll see you later.” He nods, already half turning away, waving you off and heading down the steps. You step quickly forwards and close the door behind him, clicking the lock shut.

You crouch down and run your fingers over Tank’s fur, humming quietly. “So, you think he’s kind of an asshole too, huh?”

Bradley can’t fault your home security system. With your aim and nearby projectiles, and your new guard dog, he’s certain that if anyone tries to break in up there then they’ll be sorry about it.

He hears Jake’s truck pull up outside just as he’s finished opening up for the morning, the exhaust is fucked and it’s louder than it should be. Bradley walks back to the front desk and pulls his phone out, acting like he has been here and done with his work for a while.

“Wow, you’re here.” Jake quips, raising his eyebrows in amused surprise as he lets the door ring closed behind him. He’s wearing a black cap and matching gym wear today. With his experience and skills, he should probably be at a more upmarket place, but Jake’s got a soft spot for Bradshaw’s.

Sometimes, Bradley wishes he had the same choice.

“You look like you just saw a ghost, you alright?” Jake continues as he steps around the counter and slides the clipboard towards himself, flipping through the pages to find his schedule for the day.

“Yeah, that kid’s dog just lunged for me — don’t think either of them like me.” Bradley scoffs, shaking his head as he leans over Jake’s shoulder. Lots of empty spaces on the schedule, Mav isn’t going to be happy.

“Who, Tank?” Jake looks up, brows furrowing. Bradley nods his head. Jake scoffs, “Wow, you must’ve really pissed him off, he napped in Bob’s lap for like an hour last night. Curled up like a baby.”

As Jake finishes talking, you walk past the front of the gym. Tank’s wearing a harness and walking ahead of you on his leash, tail wagging contentedly. You’re wearing a pretty dress, it’s red, stops mid-way up your thigh and has little flowers on it.

Jake smiles as you turn your head towards the two of them. He lifts his hand and waves his fingers at you through the glass. Bradley stares as you wave chirpily back at the two of them.

It’s a sunny day, and you feel sunnier than you’ve felt in months. You pull your sweater from your bag and lay it out on the grass, then settle down. Tank readily settles with you, laying his head against your legs and wagging his tail.

Tank was an apology. For one of the first times things had gotten bad between you and Jett — an explosive argument that left behind an entire day’s worth of tears. You’d gone to sleep that night swearing that you were going to leave him. The next morning, you had woken up with a tan coloured cuddle bug who needed you to stay.

Before this, you haven’t spent much time on this side of San Diego — you had heard that this wasn’t the best area to hang out in. Maybe that’s why Jett liked to, maybe it made him feel tough. It isn’t like you had thought it would be. Down by the boats, sitting in the grass, it’s nice. There’s a view out over the bay and Tank likes to watch the birds in the trees above you.

“Heads up.” Bob nudges his elbow into Jake’s. Jake lifts his gaze and frowns. They’re standing by the front desk and trying to find stuff to keep them busy so that Mav doesn’t realise how dead it is today. They stare out of the front window together as the car door slams.

“Oh, what the fuck is that assho—“

Jake shoots a look at Natasha. She closes her mouth and breathes out hard, curling her knuckles around the counter as Jett walks towards the door. With guys like Jett, Jake knows what he’s looking for. It’s a fight, nothing more. A couple more of those, one more lawsuit and this place is getting shut down for good.

With everything that Maverick has lost already, Jake’s not going to let that happen.

The bell above the door rings. He’s barely got one foot inside, nostrils flared, dark circles under his eyes. There’s a grey sheen to his skin — maybe drinking too much, maybe something heavier. Jake’s not too sure.

“Where is she?”

Natasha opens her mouth. Bob elbows her softly.

“Where’s who?” Jake shrugs his shoulders calmly.

Jett seethes, surging forwards. Jake takes one step back and squares his shoulders.

“My girl.” Jett spits.

“Why would she be here?” Bob asks gently, leaning forwards on his palms. He adjusts his glasses.

“Cut the shit, I know she’s here! — My neighbour saw her with you.”

Phoenix glances across at Jake. Jake folds his arms over his chest. He’s two weight classes above Jett, and confident in the knowledge that Jett knows he won’t win this fight.

“Here to apologize?” Jake taunts.

“Here to talk her dumb ass down from whatever high horse she’s on. You don’t know her, man, she always freaks out like this.”

Bradley rounds the corner, leaning his head back, breathing hard. That session really took it out of him. He rolls his neck and opens his mouth, then closes it. He stops in his tracks.

He takes a moment to stare at Jett, and then take in what he had just said. Now it all makes sense.

“You want to talk to her?” Phoenix challenges, pushing herself up from her chair and rounding the desk. Behind her, is the internal door, behind that are the stairs to your apartment. “Try it.”

“Don’t think that just because you’re a girl, I won’t—“

That’s enough. They have heard enough. Bob moves to step between him and Phoenix, Jake steps towards Jett. Bradley throws his towel onto the ground and surpasses Jake.

He steps forwards and curls a fist into Jett’s t-shirt.

“Rooster, don’t.”

Rooster knows that there are only a couple more times that the police can get called to this place, and he knows that their insurance isn’t going to cover him starting another fight. Luckily, Jett’s smaller than he is.

His feet lift briefly off of the ground and stumble the rest of the way, scrambling for purchase, his arms swinging out to the sides. Rooster walks him backwards. The bell above the door rings loudly as the door swings open and then closed.

Jett’s shoes scrape along the concrete, not stopping long enough for him to get steady footing. His arms shove at Bradley, but it’s little use. Bradley worked as security for a while, there are a lot of bars downtown and he needed some time away from the gym. He’s used to throwing scrawny losers out onto the curb.

They walk back until Jett’s clear of the property boundary.

He tosses Jett backwards. Jett grunts as his back slams into the hood of his beat up, old car. He slinks down onto the floor. Bradley can tell that he’s going to try to get up before he does.

He leans down in front of your ex-boyfriend, eyes dark and serious, his broad frame blocking out the mid-day sun from behind him.

“You know me, right, Jett?” Bradley asks gently. He’s asking more than if Jett knows his name, which Jett does — he knows about Bradley’s career, and he knows why it’ll never extend past Bradshaw’s. Taking note of the clear recognition in Jett’s blue eyes, he nods his head. “That’s right. So you know that I have a hard time knowing when to stop. Right?”

Jett swallows softly.

Bradley nods his head again. “You come by here again, I’m not gonna stop.”

Tank walks ahead of you happily, his nose pointed up as he takes in his new surroundings. He seems to like it down here, all of the fresh smells, all of the birds. You’re four chapters into a book you’ve been meaning to start for months.

The bell above the door rings, Tank wanders in first and walks right on up to Bob. Your lips quirk slightly as he looks up expectantly at his new friend. You lift your gaze. The four of them are looking at you.

Smiling sweetly, you tilt your head a fraction to the side. “Everything okay?”

“Always is when you’re around, sunshine.” Jake shoots you a quick wink. Your cheeks are warm, and not because you just spent a couple of hours out in the sun. Bob and Natasha relax as you giggle sheepishly.

Bradley’s looking at you differently now. Maybe because Tank scared him this morning. You can’t quite place the look that he has on his face.

“Are Mickey and Javy here? — I had an idea for the website and I need to talk to all of you for it.” You continue on, well aware of those big brown eyes boring into your side as you pull your notebook from your bag and lean forwards onto the counter.

Phoenix shoots Bradley a look. He stares back at her. Everyone knew except him. She told everyone other than him about what had gone down between you and Jett. He didn’t realise that things had gotten that bad. Folding his arms over his chest, he wonders what else she has kept from him over the past few weeks.

…

---

i need him in a way that creates a new sin in the bible

Elementary, Chapter One

gif credit: @magnusedom

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: M (no smut yet but all my works are 18+, talks of children with difficult home lives, widowed/single dad!joel, unbeta’d and unedited bc i refuse to proofread my shit)

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

The sound of your alarm clock buzzing hit you like a brick, the burn in your eyes causing you to wonder if you got any sleep at all. You rolled out of bed with a yawn, your back cracking as it adjusted to being upright.

“Christ,” you groaned as you stood up and padded your way over to the bathroom. “And only twenty-eight.”

As you stood in the shower nearly catatonic, you thought about the day ahead of you. Parent/teacher conference day. The worst day of the year.

Typically, you loved going into work. Your class of fifth graders were a godsend, making up for all the mischievous ten and eleven year olds you had last year. But today wasn’t about the kids, even if it was supposed to be. Today was about dealing with their opinionated, or even more tragic, absent parents.

No matter which way they leaned on the spectrum—involved or absent—none of them ever seemed to be pleased with your assessment of their child. If their children were straight A students, you simply weren’t challenging them enough. If they were rowdy, it must be your fault because “they aren’t like that at home”. Never satisfied.

But the worst and most draining part of the day was sitting there with your students waiting for their parents to show up, both of you knowing they wouldn’t. You had to watch the light fade from their eyes as the minutes ticked on. You had to watch them struggle to ask to use your desk phone to call home. On more than one occasion, you had to watch the child go off in the backseat of a police car, their parents MIA and having no other way home. It broke your heart in ways they never taught you about in school, ways you never prepared for.

Sitting down at your desk, a half hour left until the first bell rang, you flipped through the pile of report cards, ordering them by meeting time rather than the alphabetical order they were in now.

“Morning, Miss,” a small voice called your attention, your eyes lifting from the papers to watch as Sarah Miller, one of your better students, walked in.

“Sarah, class doesn’t start for another half-hour.” Your brows furrowed as she hung her backpack on her chair and sat down.

“My dad had to be at work early,” she informed, tugging out a book and cracking it open.

“Well, why don’t you go have some breakfast since you’re here early?” you suggested, unsure of her home situation given that her father missed last semester’s conference, leaving them unacquainted.

“No, we had breakfast burritos on the way,” she assured, already lost in her book. You nodded to yourself and resigned to having some company as you went through your morning prep.

As you jotted down today’s date and lesson objectives, Sarah called your name.

“Yea, Sarah?” You turned around to look at her, her brow laced in concentration as she pointed at a word in her book.

“What’s this mean?” You walked over and looked at the spot she was pointing to, sucking your teeth at the word at least two grade levels ahead of hers.

“Assiduous—means careful,” you read it out loud so that she could hear it pronounced, her small voice repeating the word earning a nod from you. “What are you doing reading such an advanced book?”

“It’s my dad’s,” she shrugged, flipping to the cover. “Figured if he’s smart enough to read it, so am I.”

You laughed and nodded, amused and impressed by her wit.

“I don’t know your dad, but I’m sure you’re right.” The bell rang signaling the start of the school day, your door opening as your class of thirty started to file into the room. “Good morning, everybody. Did everyone have a good weekend?”

“My cat died!” Tommy, one of the more talkative students announced to the class over a sea of other responses.

“I’m so sorry about that, Tommy,” you sympathized, watching as he shrugged.

“It’s okay. He was kind of a jerk.”

You weren’t sure whether or not to laugh, so you refrained, taking a deep breath before clapping your hands together.

“Alright then. Let’s, uh, let’s get out our journals and start our morning logs, shall we?” You stood at the front of the classroom and watched as your students tugged out their composition notebooks and cracked them open. “The subject for today is dreams. You can write about your dreams for life, for the future, for yourself and for family, or you can write about an actual dream you had. Whatever you end up writing about, remember to use some describing words. Set the scene. Just because you can see it in your head doesn’t mean the reader can, so really try and paint a picture with your words. Alright, everybody ready?”

You pressed the timer after your students confirmed they were ready to start, and walked back over to your desk to check your emails. As you sat down, your phone lit up with a message alert from the guy you’d gone on a date with on Saturday—a guy who almost literally bored you to tears.

Hope your day is going well! Can’t get you out of my head. 💞

You sighed at the message, locking your phone and flipping it over as you shooed your failing live life out of your mind to focus on work.

“Sorry,” Sarah apologized as she paced around by the door, her eyes glued to the hallway as the two of you waited for her father to show. “He promised he’d show—“

“Hey,” you heard a man’s voice from in the hall, Sarah’s relief clear as she welcomed him inside.

You were a little taken aback by how attractive and young he was, his dark brown hair matching his eyes as he stepped over to your desk. He held his hand out for you from over your bulky computer and you accepted it quickly.

“Sorry I’m late, I, uh—“

“Just over here,” you interrupted him to lead him over to the half-circle table at the back of your class, Sarah joining the two of you.

“I just started a contracting company, and it’s…hectic to say the least,” he offered you a polite smile, hoping to wipe away the look of disappointment on your face as you seemingly wrote him off as just another absent parent. “It’s just me, so…hard to be in two places at once.”

“It’s completely understandable, Mr. Miller,” you assured with a warm smile, forcing your eyes away from his handsome face to grab Sarah’s report card and your progress notes. “So, Sarah is doing incredible this year, as I’m sure you already know.”

Joel looked over at his daughter with a proud smile, nodding at her.

“Her grades are great, her attendance is great, the only concern that I have is her social skills.” You watched as his smile faded into the frown that you’d come to expect in these meetings.

“Her social skills? What’s wrong with her social skills?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing! Nothing. She’s an excellent communicator and teammate when she’s put in groups,” you flickered your eyes over to her, watching as she looked guiltily at the table. “But she rarely socializes with her classmates outside of team-assignments. Have you considered putting her in some extracurricular activities? So that she can socialize a bit more and make some friends? I know the soccer season is starting soon.”

“Sure,” he nodded, looking to his daughter. “Whatever she wants to do, you know, I give my permission.”

“I don’t want to be on the soccer team,” Sarah chimed in, glancing at her father. “No one would show up to my games anyways.”

“Hey, now,” Joel sounded hurt as he shifted in his seat to face her better, your eyes falling to the tabletop awkwardly as you let them talk it through. “I’m tryin’ my best here.”

“I know,” she assured with a sincere tone and a nod, no malice in her voice, just resolution. “But it’s still true.”

“It doesn’t have to be soccer,” you spoke again, wanting to ease the tension. “A book club is always an option. I lead a women-only book club every week at the public library on Saturday afternoons. It’s ladies of all ages, our youngest is a five year old who comes with her mom, and our eldest is ninety-seven. Why don’t the two of you swing by and check it out this weekend?”

“Am I allowed?” Joel asked with a hint of a playfulness, bringing a smile to your face.

“We’ll make a one-time exception,” you assured.

“Appreciate it,” Joel chuckled and stood up, holding his hand out for yours again. “Well, thank you for all you do. It was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see ya on Saturday.”

“On time, hopefully,” you teased and felt your chest swell in pride as his smile widened.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joel was standing at the stove, scrambling a pan of eggs while he waited for the pancake in the other pan to be ready for a flip when Sarah came hurdling into the room, still half-asleep. Joel shot her an amused look, chuckling at her disheveled state.

“Mornin’, baby girl,” he greeted.

“You’re up,” she croaked with confusion.

“Yep.”

“You never wake up on your own,” she noted suspiciously as she slugged her way over to the fridge, tugging out a bottle of orange juice before catching sight of the freshly flipped pancake. “And we’re having pancakes? Who died?”

“Nobody,” he quickly replied. “I’m just tryin’ to get us to your book club on time.”

“Yeah, so you can see my pretty teacher,” she teased, elbowing his side as she stood beside him at the stove, tending to the eggs.

“I should’a never told you that,” he sighed, his momentary lapse in judgement leading him to make a comment about how much prettier you were than he was expecting on the drive home from the meeting on Monday.

“It’s okay if you have a crush,” she assured, her words mildly surprising him. He’d expected her to be against the idea, her loyalty to her mom who passed away five years ago causing him to avoid the dating scene entirely. “I just don’t know if she’d be into your whole…situation.”

“My situation?” He questioned her with a smirk as he plated their breakfast before carrying them over to the table.

“Yeah, you know, the whole overworked, messy, single dad thing.” Joel stared at her in playful disbelief as she listed off his flaws casually, seeing so much of her mother in her. “But maybe she’s into that.”

“We aren’t goin’ to get me a date, we’re goin’ so you can make some friends,” he reminded as he cut into his pancakes.

“Maybe you can make a friend, too,” she pointed out. “Maybe somebody who can help you with your time management skills.”

“Time management,” he repeated her words. “You’re gettin’ too smart for your own good.”

“Good.”

“Alright, I know we’re all eagerly awaiting the reveal of this month’s book, so without further ado—oh.” You were interrupted by a familiar father-and-daughter duo sneaking into the room quietly, Joel mouthing a silent apology as he took a seat with Sarah in the back. “We’ve got a new face today—well, two new faces, technically. Everybody, welcome Sarah and her father…”

“Joel,” he introduced himself, surprised that he forgot to do so during the conference.

“You arrived just in time for the reveal of this month’s book,” you smiled as you walked over to the stack of books hidden underneath a table cloth. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah!” The five year old you’d mentioned during the meeting cheered, making you laugh.

“Alright, this month’s pick is…” you pulled the tablecloth off and lifted the cover up. “Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen.”

“About time,” croaked the eldest member of the club, Harriet, the book having been her vote every month since she’d joined the club a year ago.

After handing out copies of the book to the entire room, including Joel, you announced that it was “mingling time” and were delighted to see Joel and Sarah making a beeline for you.

“I’m glad you guys came,” you greeted them with a smile, pointing at the book in their hands. “It’s a pretty good read, not my usual cup of tea but not bad. And given the books you’re used to reading, Sarah, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle this one.”

“Hey,” a girl Sarah’s age approached her with a friendly smile. “I’m Jessie.”

“Sarah.”

You and Joel looked on as the two eleven year olds got swept away in conversation about some show you’d never heard of, both of you proud of her for branching out.

“So what’s this club all about?” Joel asked, the two of you now alone as Sarah walked off with her new friend. “Just reading and snacks?”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a chuckle. “We do more throughout the month—activities based on the book we’re reading and stuff—but it’s the first meeting of the month, so it’s usually just spent with all of us catching up and hanging out.”

“Well, she looks happy,” he pointed out before holding up the book in his hand. “Anything I should be worried about her reading in this?”

“As in sex, drugs, and violence? No. But if you’re worried about 19th-century gender dynamics, then yeah, there’s some stuff.” Joel laughed and nodded, tapping the paperback against his palm. “You, uh, you made progress. Only five minutes late this time.”

“And I woke up early, too,” he added before flushing in embarrassment as he revealed his eagerness to get here on time. “Yeah, uh, Sarah’s used to pullin’ me outta bed—she was floored to see me already awake when she woke up.”

“Sounds like you need a better alarm.”

“Or more days off to actually get some decent rest,” he replied with a sigh, shaking his head.

“She knows you’re not intentionally doing it, you know?” you offered, the affection you felt for both him and his daughter teetering in inappropriate given that you were simply her teacher, but you couldn’t shake it no matter how hard you tried to all week.

“I feel so guilty,” he confessed, suddenly looking more vulnerable and exhausted. “She’s missin’ out on bein’ a kid and havin’ to take care of herself all because I decided I wanted to be self-employed.”

“Her mom—“

“Passed away five years ago,” he filled you in softly as you walked him over to the snack table to grab a water bottle. “Just got her uncle and I left.”

“Well, you guys aren’t doing too bad,” you complimented with a smile, watching as he rolled his eyes. “Seriously, she’s a funny kid. Quick, too.”

“That’s all her mama,” he replied with a smile that screamed affection.

“Well, she must’ve been quite a woman, then.”

“She was,” he nodded, his eyes turning away from yours as he reached to grab a water of his own. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Oh, you don’t need to thank—“

“No, I do,” he shushed you gently. “Sarah’s other teachers never cared enough to look out for her like you do. It’s really…I appreciate it. You’re even extending that kindness to me, so…thank you.”

You felt overwhelmed by his words, having never received such kindness in your career. You were used to crying over criticism, but now your eyes began to well for a whole new reason.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you cry—“ Joel reached to touch your shoulder but refrained, not wanting to cross any lines without consent. You sniffled and wiped away the tears that had yet to spill from your watery eyes, chuckling at your own emotional state.

“No, I’m just…not used to a parent being so nice,” you laughed again and this time Joel joined you. “So, thank you and, by the way, I appreciate you too.”

“Maybe we can—“

“Oops, I spilled my wine!” Harriet announced, cutting off Joel’s attempt at asking you out.

“Harriet! Where’d you find wine? This is a public library,” you scolded, starting off towards her before turning back to Joel. “Sorry, I, uh, I have drop-off duty on Monday morning, so I’ll see you when you drop Sarah off?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing his failure. “See ya then.”

girlies when Jere has his hair slicked back

Proofs that Pedro Pascal and Y/n Y/l/n are dating (part 2)

I think I could do this every week, like a series, I like the idea! But actually doing it, is something different, especially because I tend to lose it at some point and forget to publish or I don’t have time 🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if you have any ideas for those, because I am already running out of them but I like doing them.. so, I’m open! And for the last pic, I feel like he would do this face like a shocked face but funny, I don’t really know how to explain it 😂

1) 12.04.2023, 3:57pm

A fan posted a video on Instagram. First we could see a woman, laughing with another person, another woman we assume. They were in a car. We can hear off camera “is that him?”, the other woman says yes, then turns the camera. Next to her car, there he was, Pedro. They were actually at a red light. He was driving. He did not see the women next to him yet. In the video, we could see another person next to him, but we don’t know who (yet). Then this person moves their position, lightly turning to the left, that’s when we see that it is actually Y/n Y/l/n, and that’s when she notices the woman filming them. At that moment, we could see that Pedro leaned a little towards y/n, but she pointed to the ladies before he could go further, which made him turn. He waved at them, but were quickly interrupted by a car honking at them. The light turned green. The video shows the car leaving. One woman said “what was he doing?” The other said “was he about to kiss her?”, then the video ends.

2) 14.04.2023, around 4pm

Pedro and y/n were seen leaving the gym together. Walking next to each other they were laughing a lot. Y/n was wearing a yellow sports bra and a dark grey short, holding a water bottle. Pedro was in shorts too and wearing his famous yellow lakers shirt, his shorts were also grey. They surprisingly had matching outfits.

3) 15.04.2023, 2:36am

Y/n posted a video on her story. She was in a club. The video started with her in a crowd, dancing. Next to her was a friend, coming to kiss her cheek for the video. Right behind y/n, a familiar face, Pedro Pascal. He absolutely did not see that y/n was making a video and was enjoying himself, dancing a little but mostly drinking his cocktail. Then y/n turned towards Pedro and said “say hi!”. As he didn’t hear her, he screamed “what?” Then looked at her phone. She came very close to him, whispering the same sentence to his ear. Then he came closer to the phone, looked straight at the camera, and said hi, and waved. “Who is it for?” He asked her. “I’m posting it on Instagram!” They looked at each other. He was giving her a look that said “that is not a good idea” and she gave him a look that said “I know but I’ll do it anyway”, then the video stopped as they were laughing.

4) 17.04.2023, 10am (ish)

Pedro and y/n were seeing grocery shopping together. Some fans posted pictures during the day, with the two of them together (and the fan of course). One fan stated that they saw Pedro kiss y/n’s forehead but there were no pictures nor videos.

5) 19.04.2023, 6:13pm

Pedro posted a video on his Instagram story. First we could see him, and we could see he was in a car, but not driving. Then, he turned the camera to his legs, and we could see a hand on his thigh. He moved the camera towards the driver, and it was y/n, looking ahead. When she saw that he was filming, she took her hand away, and put it in front of her mouth, pretending to be shocked. Then she smiled, her eyes switching from the road to the phone. Then Pedro turned the camera back to his face, making a weird shocking face before laughing. We could hear y/n laughing too. Then the video ended. Y/n reposted it on her story later too, adding : “got to give attention to my passenger princess”

POV: Your camera roll but you’re dating Pedro Pascal (part 2)

Blow by Blow | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

“Okay, um — no, no,” Natasha winces, shaking her head at you. She grabs your knee and pushes it back down. “No legs — no kicking.”

Jake snorts at the other side of the gym, leaning his head back, then remembering he’s supposed to be spotting Javy, who’s failing out of a bench press. “Oh shit.”

He catches the bar and helps his friend lift it back onto the rack.

“But… I saw on TV—“

“Different sport, kid.” Payback chuckles from the side of the ring, leaning against the ropes. Your lips part slightly, confused. Bradley leans against the doorframe to the office, arms folded over his chest.

You nod slowly as Natasha guides you back into the correct stance. You squint at the heavy bag, readying yourself to go again.

In the month since you’ve moved in, you’ve gotten better at this — but there’s still a lot you don’t know. Still, Natasha has enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell.

Interviewing each of the staff members for the website really helped. Sitting down with each of them for a couple of hours and doing a video interview with them to post on the About section of the website, just a friendly Q&A to make people feel more comfortable coming in and meeting the team.

If it helped you warm up to the idea of training here, then it would help others too.

Bradley is the only one that you haven’t managed to pin down for an interview yet, but he has been busy — he has the most clients around here because he’s been around the longest

Maverick has been loving your ideas so far. He thinks you’re a tech genius for some basic website design and creative ideas.

This entire month has been like a dream that you’re just waiting to wake up from. Even that evening, after hours spent at a local bar — you’re on cloud nine.

Maybe a couple too many drinks, maybe it’s just because you’re so happy, but you’ve been laughing all night.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at home? — It’s on my way.” Payback offers, dangling his keys from his index finger. He’s got a fight coming up and he has cut out all alcohol, but he just has a tiny little sports car that won’t fit everyone. Bradley lives closest.

“Well, yeah — I’m not going to let her walk home on her own,” Bradley answers as he shoots a quick look over to you, grinning with Bob and Mickey as the three of you make plans for the weekend coming. “Besides, it’s not that far out of my way.”

Jake nods his head and pats Bradley’s shoulder, taking Bradley’s spot in that tiny little sports car, “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t forget you agreed to take care of my eight a.m. session.”

Bradley calls out an agreement and waves the two of them off as he walks over to you.

“You ready?” He asks gently.

“Oh — yeah. Okay, bye guys, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You stick your arms out and they hug a side of you each, then call out their goodnights to the each of you.

“What did you guys end up deciding to do this weekend?” Bradley asks, reaching past you and curling his fingers around the empty glass in your hand. He takes it and sets it onto the table beside you, then catches hold of your hand and turns you towards the door.

You comply wordlessly, letting him steer you towards the exit. He drops your hand and lets you walk ahead of him.

“Bob knows this hiking trail that has some really great views, and I’ve never been on a real hike, so we’re all going to take Tank with us.”

He hums behind you to show that he’s listening, stepping outside into the night right behind you. “Sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to come?” You offer, turning your head to look at him, your features soft and expectant. Not quite hopeful. Rooster shakes his head.

“Can’t, I’m working this weekend.” Bradley answers. It’s not a lie, he should be working this weekend, but he’s also kind of the boss and hasn’t ever taken notice of the hours that he’s supposed to be working.

You inhale softly, not bothering to argue with him about it. You kind of don’t want him there, anyway. Being all brooding and weird — it would be more fun without him there. That feels mean. It’s not that you don’t like Bradley, it’s just that he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

“You alright? — you’ve gone all quiet, all of a sudden.” Bradley nudges his hand into the back of your bicep as you walk ahead of him. You turn and look over your shoulder once more.

Maybe it’s all the fresh air, but you feel a thousand times more buzzed out here than you had in there.

“Could we walk back along the marina?” You slow down so that you’re at his side. Bradley nods his head, it’ll only add an extra ten minutes to the walk, and sometimes it’s nice down there at night time.

You walk ahead as he pushes his hands into his pockets and watches you. Bradley trained with Jett for a couple of years, he had known from the first session that Jett was an asshole — he just hadn’t realised that it went further than that. Maybe he could have done something earlier.

Your skin cools quickly with the ocean air, goosebumps rising on your skin from the sudden change in temperature.

Finally, you round the path and grow close enough to see the boats, the lights of the city and right out over the bay. You slow down to take notice of it.

“So, do you live near here?” You ask Bradley without looking back to him, gaze turned out over the water. Bradley watches you walk in front of him, his eyes on your legs as you narrowly miss each crack in the pavement. Inches from stumbling, somehow staying on your feet.

“Near Little Italy.” He answers you.

You scrunch your brows and turn quickly towards him, walking backwards without slowing. His features tighten, eyes on your heels — there’s a rock on the path, your shoe lands centimetres from it and you escape breaking your ankle.

“This is out of your way, then.” You realise.

Bradley lifts his gaze, looking at you with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. He nods slowly. “Yeah. But it’s alright.”

“I didn’t say thank you.” You remind him, lips quirking up into a playful smile. His mouth toys at a smirk. He likes it when you forget yourself around him, leave all of that worrying and quietness behind. He can see why the others like you so much when you’re like this.

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nods again. He smirks back at you, “That’s alright too.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. “If I keep training with Nat, pretty soon you’ll be asking me to walk you home.”

He chuckles lowly. “Is that right?”

You nod your head and slow down, letting him catch up to you. He slows, standing in front of you, brows scrunching. He opens his mouth to question your motives, then stops as you turn your head and look out over the water.

Salty sea air, fuzzy bright lights around the harbour, warm skin as you lean forwards into him. It’s a half-intentional move, you want to be closer but you’re also just tipsy and not that steady on your feet.

Bradley’s hands find your waist, unfazed as you tip your chin to look at him. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but you aren’t in the slightest bit bashful about staring at him.

He lets you, glancing down at the patterned florals on your dress as his fingers lay still over the material. As his eyes meet yours again, they’re especially dark in this light, almost black. Nothing like the golden hue from this evening’s sunset.

He inhales slowly. Pomegranate, vanilla violet, mahogany wood and amber. His fingers smooth softly over your waist, eyes not faltering from yours.

You press closer into him, palm splayed out open on his chest, warm muscle under your fingertips. He stares at you, for a second questioning whether or not you’re about to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He leans into your touch, letting your lips press softly into his.

His breath stops in his airways. You mouth on his, just for a moment. As you go to pull back, his lips chase yours. You hum softly into him, meeting him with another gentle kiss. His bottom lip slotted between yours as his fingers curl into the fabric of your dress.

Pulling back slowly, you look up at him through your lashes and take one step back. Bradley loosens his hold on you, then drops his arms back to his sides.

You turn away from him and continue ahead.

“What was that for?” Bradley’s brows scrunch. You take a deep breath and sigh contentedly as you continue along the path, walking ahead of him once again.

“I just thought it would be a good spot for a first kiss.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands cold as you trail along the path at the side of the marina. Bradley walks just a pace behind you, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.

Just when he thinks he’s got you figured out, you’re off ahead of him again. He shakes his head softly. A good spot for a first kiss.

He squints at the back of your head — that implies that there will be more kisses to come, is he meant to kiss you again?

Your heels clack across the parking lot, around the side of the building. As you near the base of the metal steps up to your apartment, you turn back around to say goodnight.

His hands press into your hips, curling into the fabric of your dress as he walks you back — your breath hitches in your throat — a soft sound is knocked from you as your back hits into the red brick of Bradshaw’s exterior.

Rooster takes a second, looking you over, searching your features for a sign of doubt before he leans forwards and presses his weight into you. You swallow softly.

He lifts one hand, curling it around your jaw, turning your chin upwards and pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, tender like yours had been. Then, he presses himself harder into you, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you harder into him.

A surprised hum slips out against Bradley’s mouth, but as he urges his tongue past your lips, the sound is followed by a delightfully contented moan.

Your hands slide up his chest, coming to rest against his ribs, almost like you’re going to push him off. You’ve got no intentions of stopping this just yet. Bradley pushes himself forwards, needing to be closer.

Bradley uses his height against you, crowding you against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into yours and slotting his thick, denim-clad thigh between your legs. Your dress bunches up out of his way, not hindering his access in the slightest.

He squeezes your hip and slides his arm around your back, grinding himself forwards into you. You’re supposed to be shy, always so quiet. Now, you rock yourself onto his thigh, fingers curling into his t-shirt.

Lifting your leg to graze it against his thigh, your heel knocks gently into the bottom step. He presses you harder into the wall, caressing his tongue into yours. The ding of your heel against the metal step is soft enough to have not disturbed you. The loud bark that comes from upstairs following that gentle ding, though — that makes you flinch.

You pull apart, lips parted. Staring up at him, breathing heavily. Your skin burns as you realise who you’re with and what just happened — and where you are.

“Um… I should,” You breathe out, blinking at him, “I should go and let him out.”

Bradley nods his head. It’s a couple of seconds before his brain catches up and he finally lets you go, stepping back and freeing you from being trapped against the wall.

“Okay.” He nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Natasha. Whatever happened between you and Jett. It was probably a bad idea to—

“Do you want to come up?”

He stares at you for a second, lips quirking up at the sides. He exhales softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Sure.”

You aren’t even sure why you asked him, it seems like a bad idea before you’ve even said it — it seems like an even worse idea when he’s headed up the steps behind you.

“You have to stay here and let Tank sniff you or he’s going to freak out.”

Rooster nods his head. It can’t be that bad, he has learnt his lesson from last time. He waits outside whilst you go in and calm Tank down, clipping him into his leash to let him out.

Once Tank has sniffed him, you allow Rooster to wait inside while you get Tank settled. He’s waiting by the counter with his arms folded over his chest by the time you’re done. It doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe the moment has passed. You swallow softly, shifting uncomfortably as Tank settles down into his spot on the couch. Glancing across, you open your mouth to comment on how Tank is finally warming up to him. Tank growls lowly, a warning for Bradley to stay where he is.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and hums, “Maybe I should go.”

“But…” You start out softly.

He steps towards you and Tank growls again. You swallow softly and shoot a look to your dog. Bradley takes one more step towards you, and Tank is silent. The second that Bradley reaches out for you, he growls again.

This has got to be some kind of divine intervention from Natasha. He shouldn’t be here, doing this.

“Alright, Bambi — I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. You open your mouth to protest. He pats your shoulder platonically and heads for the door. You close it again quickly.

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. This really hot guy, who you have to see every day, who just rejected you. You close your eyes for a second and sigh. You let him leave without a word.

…

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