Where My Obsessions Live

The market is teeming with hustle and bustle of common folks. A cacophony of vendors shouting and shoppers strolling around, alongside an undertone of your lady’s heeled boots kissing gravel throbs inside your ears, softened only by the cloak that you are currently shrouded under.

Overhead, clouds hang heavy, a grim portrait of gloomy greys and ivory whites, the sun but a vague presence in the silver-lined edges. No shadows paint the ground aside from you who is hot on your lady’s heels. Everywhere she walks, you follow, akin to a shadow perpetually casted on the ground.

Meanwhile, a few children scamper around you, shouting, laughing, and one comes astray, collides with your lady before she continues scurrying on her jolly little way, blissfully unaware. The sudden jostle has the precarious effect on the body in front of you for you notice the break in rhythm of the feet that are taking graceful steps. All at once, you are directly behind her, the gentle sway of her body braced by a stable palm across her back.

“Careful, Prin-” Eyes, a milky-way of green and brown, render you quiet. You are, after all, accompanying your Princess on her covert little trip to town.

Nevertheless, a token of her gratitude follows in the form of the tiniest hint of a smile that beautifully graces her features. Disguised beneath the cloak though her head is, given the close proximity of your bodies, you are granted an audience with wisps of moon-kissed locks caressing the delicate plane of her forehead.

“Walk next to me.” She says, and donning a playful smile, you drop a whisper directly into her ears. “As my lady commands.”

Aloofness shrouds her mien, lips a firm line, although it is not lost on you that there is a twinkle in her eyes, the cause of which dawns on you as soon as a sly hand disappears into the privacy of your cloak. Two of her digits waste no time in pinching your flesh through the fabric of your cloth. Pain blossoms, bringing with it a small wince to your face.

When her fingers remain unrelenting, a grumble flies past your lips, “I jest. I jest.” And only then does she relent with a hum, feet never faltering as you walk abreast, her body the very picture of cool and collected save a smile touching her lips.

“I have promised gifts for my granddaughters. What do you think would delight them?”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m the worst person you could have turned to for such suggestions.”

“Indulge me, then. Go on.”

Ever the woman of queenly manner, even her cadence oozes charisma. It colours your cheeks rosy, bringing forth memories from which the delightful utterance has graced your ears under more intimate circumstances.

“I don’t know.” You begin by clearing your throat, a shrug on your shoulders as you walk. “Perhaps a kiss on their cheeks would suffice? I know for a fact that it would delight me greatly.”

Being both a Princess and a Dragonrider, your lady looks every bit the epitome of poise and gravitas. Seldom does she wear her emotions on her face, head held high and spine ram-rod straight, always an enchanting enigma except to trained eyes which, as a matter of fact, are few and far between, although an aura of authority is effortlessly, perpetually crowned on her Targaryen head. However, having spent a better part of your years by her side, during formal as well as more personal occasions, you have mastered the art of unravelling the subtleties of her features and nuances of her words.

It is how you find yourself now, raising a hand in faux surrender along with a defensive arm across your waist by merely a slight tilt of her head and a gaze to your face.

“Again, I jest.”

In the vicinity of the place where you currently stand, a ruckus suddenly arises, a heated argument between two vendors, it appears, which quickly fans the flames of a full-blown uproar. A crack of thunder is a prelude to the heavy drizzle that descends upon the crowd as fists are thrown, and like a carcass attracting vultures, the fight lures those who have an innate thirst for violence.

While the chaos unfolds, your sole focus is solemnly fixed on the Princess by your side, all the more so because a plethora of people are darting around in panic. You do not know, have no time to seek what your lady’s wishes are as instinct forces you to act. Taking her waist in your arm, you tuck her body into a nook as delicately as possible.

A desperate attempt on your part to narrowly escape the wagon that whizzes past leaves your bodies fitted together, your lady’s back pressed against the wall with your hand behind her head softening the impact. Her breath caresses your face, and the perfumed air is tentalising, fruity with sweet floral notes alongside something that is entirely her.

Meanwhile, the downpour has become more merciless, and you commit to memory the way raindrops cling to her lashes like tiny diamonds.

“Have anyone ever told you that you have such beautiful eyelashes, Princess?”

An arch of an eyebrow accompanies the dainty little rain-soaked lips as they curve into a dizzying smile.

“Evidently, I have.”

“So it seems.” You chuckle, step away, although not before you have adjusted her cloak in such a way that it will offer her face more protection against the rain. “I’m afraid you’ll have to cut your trip short, my lady.”

“It would appear so.”

“Shall we return to the castle then?”

Rivulets of rain travel down your cheeks, and your lady invites herself into your space, mirroring your movement from a while ago as fingers fix the hood on your head, supple in their movements.

“Yes, let’s return home.”

Home.

Home to you is not a place, but rather, a person. A person to whom you have sworn loyalty, to protect, to kill for, and should the need arise, to give your life for. Simply put, your home is by your Princess’s side, and hence, the subtle admission that the castle is as much a home to you as it is to her becomes the culprit behind the joyful little swell of your heart.

The short journey back to the castle is taken by way of a detour, in which you lead your lady through quiet alleyways, except that they are too deserted, almost suspiciously so. Once you reach the town square, you guide your lady to the exit on the other side, a hand on her back as you match her pace.

Beyond the archway, a hooded person is looming out of the darkness, and no sooner have you registered their dubious presence than your hand is grabbing your lady’s waist to urge her behind your body.

“Well, well, look who we have here.”

You recognise the voice to be that of a person from your life before your Princess, a thug who has had unsavoury history with you.

“I don’t have time for your tomfoolery.”

Mockery drips from your lips as you turn, taking your lady by her arm to leave through another archway, but to your vexation, you find that more hooded hooligans have obstructed your path. Hidden beneath your cloak is a sword attached to your hip. Closing your fingers around the hilt of it, you scan your surroundings with a surreptitious move of your eyes. There is a total of five people, six if you include the man standing behind you.

“Don’t you mean, you have no time at all because you see, me and my boys, we’re about to end you right here.”

He taunts you with his words, his insufferable tone grating on your nerves, and irked, you unsheathe your sword, just in time to swivel on your feet and parry his slash, a clang echoing through the alley when your blades collide. At the same time as you hold your stance, a strong kick is unleashed to his chest. The force of it sends him sprawling across the ground, and you let loose a snicker.

“All bark and no bite, eh?”

From your left and right, two of his lapdogs charge at you, and your blade effortlessly cuts through the air in a blur of sharp counterattacks and swift manoeuvres. You make quick work of them, one stab through the abdomen, another through the chest, and they are nothing but marionettes severed of strings, drowning in a pool of their own blood. Following in the wink of an eye is a shower of three more swords that descends upon you in full force, and you block them with your blade, raised horizontally above your head. No matter how well-trained you are, the combined strength of three against one is proving to be a little beyond your endurance.

Your knee has barely braced against the muddy ground when all of a sudden, one of your opponents drops dead, the Velaryon seahorse adorned hilt of a dagger which is embedded in his back letting you know that it has been a product of your lady’s great finesse.

Until now, all of their attention has been fixated on you, but now that your lady has divulged her capabilities, the two lapdogs disperse, one rushing towards your lady with a cry while the other swings his blade at you with renewed vigour. Every inch of your body screams at you to rush to your lady’s side, but the wretched little demon in front of you is giving you no leeway, lavishing you with onslaughts upon onslaughts of attacks, one of which, in your desperation to end him quickly, manages to catch you in your cloak.

“Stay focused, tigress.” As if sensing your distress, your Princess calls out to you. “Don’t worry about me.”

One touch of her voice and fire meets gasoline, the flame within you burning so fiercely that you let out a loud roar.

“Come on! Come at me, you cunt of a coward!!”

Having his feather ruffled by your gibe, he charges at you once more, but when the blade comes, rather than avoiding it, you catch it between your arm and body, trapping the sword and its wielder in place as you push your blade through his chest so hard that a good few length of it escapes through his back. Blood pours out of his sorry little mouth, and retrieving your sword from his body effectively drops him to the ground.

Your lady’s strikes, not as refined though they are as yours, can easily withstand a vermin whose attacks are disorganized at best. Furthermore, she is swift on her feet, wielding the agility of a crane whereas you possess the strength of a tigress, or so your Princess has whispered into your ears, your strikes always heavy, deep and precise.

Speaking of the Princess, your gaze catches her in time to feast your eyes upon her magnificence. The vermin has swung his blade at your lady, but she has gracefully swept down, and before he can recover, her dagger has made his stomach its temporary case, a snug fit. You watch, morbidly fascinated, as blood spills forth the hole once she pulls out her weapon before bestowing another swift stab upon his neck.

Out of five lapdogs, two lie dead at the hands of your lady, and three at yours which leaves only the old hound who at present, is eyeing you with contempt. When he starts advancing however, instead of lunging at you, he opts for your Princess, but having predicted his dirty, old tricks, you easily intercept, swift and light on your feet as your blades clash. You dance around each other in an exchange of onslaughts until once again, you are forced to maintain a firm stance to keep his sword from bearing down on you.

The rain has thinned and through the clouds, the sun’s rays has spilled across Driftmark. In the corner of your eyes, you discern a glint. You notice it a second too late though because one moment, both of his hands are keeping a firm grip on the blade, and the next, one hand has disappeared into his cloak to retrieve a hidden dagger. Nevertheless, his strength barely wavers, and so engrossed in keeping the looming threat at bay you are that you have not been able to stop in time the dagger that stabs you.

Although its sharp tip has scarcely pierced your flesh before you lock your fingers around his wrist, the struggle that pursues leaves a crimson slash across the plane of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you swallow the pain in fear that it will upset your Princess who apparently has seized the opportunity to deliver cuts to the backs of his knees. Immediately, he falls to the ground with a grunt. Meanwhile, you waste no time in kicking the dagger away from his hand and throwing his blade across the square.

“Bagged yourself another degenerate like yourself, huh? Or did you whore yourself out?”

You are not as perturbed by him making a ridicule out of you as you are livid by his insults towards your lady, but when you have poised to throw a punch to his face, a gentle hand on your arm stops you.

Pulled free of the hood and kissed by sunshine, a waterfall of liquid starlight almost appears to be glowing.

“Lady wife of the Sea Snake.”

She remains silent at his observation, staring him down, but something about him not addressing your lady by her individual title rubs you the wrong way. Still, you will not interfere, for after all, you dance to your lady’s every desire.

Entwined hands resting just below her waist, your Princess has donned intimidation as though it is regalia, a goddess to be worshiped oozing effortless allure.

“I- I didn’t know. Have mercy.”

“I can be merciful if I so choose, but I can’t in good conscience have a vengeful man pouncing on my sworn shield at every chance he gets. And what’s more, you have thrown insults to my face. I could have your tongue for it.” She blinks, sly and languid, slow and deliberate, alongside a small tilt to her head. “So, what do you propose I do, hm?”

“My tongue. If- if it would appease you-”

The old hound in the face of the dragon is like a lamb to the slaughter, grovelling at the feet of the exalted creature who slowly approaches him.

“Insults are insignificant.” So, she drawls, and before he can register a word, a dagger has been plunged so deeply into his throat by way of his mouth that blood gurgles. “Keep your tongue.”

A squelch accompanies the recovery of the dagger. While she wipes it clean off blood on his cloth, you carry out your own retrieval of her other dagger buried in the back of another body. It, too, is wiped clean before being sheathed on her hip.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Your question is answered with a query. “Are you?”

Her gaze, beneath the dapple of daylight, holds the warmth of sunlit amber, flecked with whispers of forest green, and when it caresses your body from head to toe in silent observation, the wound hidden beneath your cloak throbs in harmony with the beat of your heart.

“I am.” You say, and your lopsided grin garners a small smile in return. “It’s high time we returned home then.”

It is only when you have escorted your lady into the safety of her castle that your false bravado comes to light. Your fingers touch your stomach and they come away wet, viscous, and overwhelmingly red. While you are lost in your head, the voice that caresses your ears comes in the form of your name, and you look up to find your lady standing in front of you.

Stickiness clings to your palm as you curl your digits into a fist, but your sorry excuse of an attempt is proven futile when lithe fingers lock around your wrist. A tug coupled with a look from her is all it takes for your fist to pour open. You can almost pinpoint the exact moment when realisation dawns on her, in the delicate lines on her face that have all but calcified into rocky plains.

“Uncloak.” Her tone harbours an icy ring to it by the time she speaks, releasing your hand at the same time, although when you stand unmoving, she demands instead. “Now.”

Pulling your dark cloak open reveals to your lady the cut across your stomach in all its scarlet, grisly glory. There is a twitch to her jaw as well as a tiny tilt to her head, and when she looks at you, a tempest brews in her eyes, but beneath the blaze of storm-tossed sea, dark and churning with a blazing anger, you find a shadow of concern.

“Pay a visit to the Maester, get it treated, and by nightfall, I want you in my chambers.”

And so, that is how you find yourself in your lady’s chambers after getting the crimson slash properly cleaned, stitched and wrapped in fresh linens at the masterful hands of House Valeryon’s Maester.

The door shuts with a soft click, and a greeting falls past your lips.

“Princess.”

You have crossed paths with her handmaiden in the corridors leading up to the chambers, and she must have helped your lady get ready for bed, you conclude, for the Princess is now comfortably clothed. Oddly enough however, her braids are not yet unwoven which is how you find her now, sitting in front of her vanity desk, a waterfall of white silk flowing down her back.

As if possessing a mind of their own, your legs carry you towards your lady before depositing you directly behind her back. Immediately, reverently, your fingers make a descent onto the intricate little bun perched atop her head, during which the Princess regards you silently through the mirror’s reflection. With much delicacy, you unbind the thick braid that is keeping the bun in place, and doing so spills another layer of those silken locks in an effortless cascade down her back.

“You would do well to remember-” It is amidst you undoing one of the smaller braids that her voice graces your ears for the first time since you have set foot in her chambers. Meanwhile, her gaze finds yours in the mirror. “-that your fealty to me is to no avail should you lie wounded and are unable to fulfill your duties.”

“But what good is a sworn shield who cannot…well…” With a sigh, you drop your gaze to your hands before seeking her eyes once more. “…shield?”

“And what good is a sworn shield who cannot stand?”

“I am perfectly capable of standing though.”

“Are you?”

And then, she is turning on her seat, a lock of her star-kissed hair slipping through your fingers like liquid silver, as she seizes you by your tunic. In the wink of an eye, dainty lips collide with your own, all but sucking your soul out of your body, and your witty remark, which you have been intending to let loose, dissolves on her tongue altogether.

Such marks the epilogue to your little repartee.

While one hand holds a fistful of fabric, another wanders, ghosting along your thigh to then settle on your stomach, fingertips dancing across the gauze before it grabs your waist. A wicked pad of a thumb presses onto your side, and the outcome is just shy of agony, a whimper being fed into your lady’s mouth as your knees very nearly fail you.

“Kneel.”

With a mere touch of her murmured breath branded so deliciously onto your lips that are presently bearing the fruit of her ardent assaults, you are instantly reduced to a puddle at her feet, eager to worship your goddess.

“Hmm, I thought as much.”

“Well,-” Your tone is tinged with a whine, whereas a smile blossoms on your face. “-that was unfair.”

“Are you questioning your Princess?”

You tuck your face into her stomach, dropping a little kiss onto the spot where you think her navel lies.

“I wouldn’t dare, Princess.”

In the meantime, fingers trace patterns on your cheek, caress the outline of your jaw, and closing your eyes, you revel in the luxurious sensation up until a palm that cradles your face coaxes you out of your sweet sanctuary.

“It would be cruel of me to have you remain kneeling.” As she speaks, her thumb maps each curve and contour of your lips, which, swollen by now, speaks of whispered words and the heady waltz of fervent kisses. “I believe improvisations are in order.”

“Strip.”

And strip, you do, for at present, you stand only in your loose trousers.

Gracefully, tentalisingly, your lady arises, and even though a few braids remain in place, her hair, now freed from its confine, flows freely past her hip, a cascade of luminous waves shimmering like moonlight upon a still lake. Her gaze, on the other hand, is fixed on the linen that is entirely wrapped around your waist. The seepage of blood from the wound paints the white fabric in a vague vermillion which offers a glimpse into the extent of the injury.

“It will heal in no time, my lady.” Your attempt at soothing your lady is received with a gentle threat. “I do not tolerate imprudence. Nor deceit. It would do you well to remember that.”

“I will, Princess. But it doesn’t mean I won’t do it all over again if it concerns your safety.”

“Stubborn as ever.”

“My Princess likes me stubborn though, doesn’t she?”

“With that bold tongue of yours, count yourself lucky that I do.” Although she has leveled you with a glare, the blaze of which can very well put the sun to shame, you smile a cheeky little grin, looking every bit the picture of a cat that has eaten the canary, or rather, a tigress who has eaten the dragon. “That I agree. My tongue is capable of doing unimaginable wonders after all.”

You feel her hands move, and fearing that her fingers are once again going to subject you to those ruthless torments, you quickly raise your hands in surrender. She proves you wrong however by snaking her fingers into the waistband of your trousers.

“These need to go too.”

Your Princess has said her command, and like the very devotee that you are, your hands make swift work of getting rid of the only piece of clothing that is covering your body. Meanwhile, what enters your line of sight is a heap of white fabric that pools at your lady’s feet.

A breath catches in your throat, your heart beating with an awe so profound that it borders on reverence. She is a nymph of old tales, a creature of myth sung by the bards, born of the elements and graced with the beauty of the divine. Her presence, lucid and otherworldly at the same time, seems to draw the very light towards her, bathed in a halo of celestial radiance.

Your lady’s bare frame, delicate and strong, speaks of both grace and power, a goddess in her own right. It is a sight that will never tire you, and despite having seen it before, you are awed anew by such glorious vision. Your gaze lingers, admiring the soft curves and the rise and fall of her chest, enthralled by the sheer wonder of her existence that stirs the deepest corner of your soul.

Fascinated, you go to take her hips in your hands, but a push from her, and pliantly, you let yourself fall onto the mattress, for after all, a dragon will always be a dragon no matter the circumstances. You have not so much as blinked when she climbs atop the bed to straddle your body, toned thighs, befitting a dragon-rider of her caliber, on either side of your ribcage.

Your lips collide.

Amidst the clash of tongues and teeth, your hands find home on her waist, flesh supple and soft beneath your fingertips, as you move to sit up, lifting your lady slightly to reposition her on your lap, a special throne fit for your Queen.

Wetness oozes, and as soon as you feel the heat of her core on your thigh, you moan, but given that you are locked in place by a hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and an arm around your neck, it tumbles directly into her mouth. There is a sway to her hips, her essence coating your flesh, and all too eagerly, you encourage the dragon-rider to ride your thigh to her heart’s content, hands sliding into the delicious little dip of her waist as you help her maintain the rhythm that she has set.

Her lips part from yours with a delectable little mewl. Those delicate buds, once dainty, now beautifully bears the bloom of passion’s visit. Each swell hints at the fervor of love’s embrace, leaving them a charming, rosy hue, a testament to moments of rapture. Coated in a layer of dew, they glisten softly in the warm glow, as if kissed by dawn itself, promising the sweet ache of desire.

Like a siren’s call, they lure you, and enchanted, you give in, raising a hand to gently trace the curve of her lips beneath your fingertips. A gasp escapes your lips once your wrist is caught in her hand. Another catches in your throat when two of your fingers are sucked into her mouth.

Every ridge and bone is visited by a velveteen tip of a tongue, licking, prodding, and by the time she guides your hand between her legs, your fingers are as equally soaked as her core. They slip inside smoothly to be enveloped in luxurious softness. Curling your fingers into a cruel, little curve seems to drown your lady in sweet suffering if the way her forehead falls atop your shoulder to muffle the sounds, that very nearly spill out of her, with a bite to your flesh is any indication.

Beneath the soft folds of her belly, you can see muscles straining, hidden little pearl, hard and sensitive, grinding against your palm to seek friction. Meanwhile, your love-struck gaze is busy admiring the lovely little freckles that are scattered across her chest, a spillage of stars, and upon chasing them with your lips, syrupy sweet kisses blossom in their wake.

The sight of her trembling frame as she rides your fingers is a scene worthy to be immortalised in art form, but at the same time, you frankly doubt that bards and painters all across Westeros can truly do your lady’s ethereal beauty justice. Swelling to near bursting with adoration, you hold her to your chest, fingers doing their job in the warm cavern of her core, and in doing so, you earn yourself a nibble to your neck, lips closing around your pulse point, sucking, kissing.

Hot air escapes your mouth as you bury your nose in the healthy mane of her hair.

“You seem awfully fond of my hair, tigress.” She pants, whereas you smile, nuzzling her silky strands that are not only smooth but also addictively fragrant. “Fond is an understatement, Princess.”

“What is it, then?”

“Love.”

“You love my hair?”

You abandon your happy, little haven in favour of taking her face in your hand. Tiny pearls of sweat blooms on her forehead while her lips are slightly parted. A knit occupies the space between her eyebrows while her eyes, usually an intense hazel brown, are now hazy with hunger.

“I love you,-” It is into the delicate lines forming at the corner of her mouth that you breathe your admission. “-and everything you have to offer.”

She says nothing, but you doubt even a thousand spoken words will be capable of touching you the way you feel deeply touched by being made aware of the effect it has on her in the fluttering of her folds as they clench your fingers. Your lady has died that sweet little death in your embrace, head collapsing onto your shoulder. It is only when her muscles have relaxed, and her core has released its grip on your fingers that they can finally slip out.

“And my dear tigress.” Fingers lazily toy with your hair. “Yes, Princess?”

“Don’t you dare hide your wounds from me ever again.” Your arms wrap around her body to hold her a little closer, a little tighter, into which she happily melts, rare moments where you can witness her softer, more affectionate side.

Nevertheless, you must have taken too long to her liking because the delicate flesh of your neck falls victim to her teeth.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Although she has left you throbbing in pain, the happiness that swells inside your chest easily prevails over anything and everything, burning so fiercely that you feel as if you can conquer the Seven Kingdoms to offer it to her on a diamond platter. Suppressing your silly little urge, you content yourself instead with a delicate press of a kiss to her bare shoulder.

“Delightfully so, Princess.”

Zephyrs in Driftmark can be unforgiving at times, especially in the break of dawn. It crawls through little gaps from the castle’s stone walls, running its frigid fingers over every part of your body that is left exposed by your thick covers. One cursed touch of it, and immediately, the shivers come in a tidal wave, iciness crashing down your frame the way waves break the sandy shore.

Peeved to be so rudely awaken, you burrow deeper into bed, pulling the covers over your head to hide in your warm, little cocoon. Still, the trembling persists as though your early morning visitor has left a piece of itself behind in the very depths of your core, for coldness continues to swell from within. On your temples, your blood throbs so fiercely in your veins to the point that you think they may pop any moment now, an awful sensation that is well-nigh torture.

A part of you is inclined to believe that such is the punishment for the sin you have committed yesternight, but even if it is to be the case, the better part of you harbour not a dot of remorse. Why should you when there still lingers traces of her presence, subtle but certainly detectable on the delicate piece of fabric that is presently held close to your chest, a keepsake. Admittedly, not willingly given. Rather, stolen in a moment of irrepressible desire. But a keepsake nonetheless. The handkerchief is simply a square piece of cotton cloth, elegantly lined with lace, as white as milk, but her initials, in blood-red cursive, are embroidered on one corner of it.

Pressing the soft material to your nose, and drowning in the faint scent of sea breeze and firewood that is uniquely and so undeniably your Princess Rhaenys’s, conjure up memories from last night. Within the secrecy of your room, one of the privileges of being the Princess’s Handmaiden, with the stolen little piece of herself nestled over your nose, your fantasies have gone uncontrollably wild. Teeth biting lips, fingers journeying south, sweat blooming into beads, body writhing in ecstasy. Suffice it to say that by the time you drift off, you are thoroughly drained. Only the sea scented breeze catches wind of the name that sweetly, thickly drips down your lips in a sacred whisper, and the moon, the sole witness to the rivulets that shimmer on the inside of your thighs beneath its silvery light.

A cascade of warmness that envelops your body at the mere thought of your lady is all it takes to fend off the cold. Cheeks rosy and ears buzzing, you suddenly feel very feverish. By the side of the bed, a window sits on the wall, the clouds beyond the frame drenched in artistic reds and oranges at the hands of the slowly rising sun, and in need to cool off, your fingers curl around the latch to push it open.

Your respite is fragile, short-lived, shattering like a glass on impact, once an eddy of wind, strong and sudden, swirls into your humble dwelling. The intruder leaves everything untouched other than your little keepsake that is stolen right under your nose. Slipping through your fingers, it flutters akin to a bird preparing for take off, before being escorted through the window, and you watch, a gasp on your lips, while the relentless breeze sends the precious piece of your lady flurrying down, and down, and further down. Your heart drops along with the handkerchief by the time you realise where it has disappeared into.

In your haste to retrieve your prized possession, you have forgone, or rather completely forgotten, the decency to slip into something more suitable for the weather. With a simple nightdress precariously hanging on your frame, your bare feet pad through the winding halls and down the grand staircases as you slip past bustling servants, too engrossed in their respective works to pay you any mind. By the time you reach the entrance to the crypt, you observe from behind a pillar. Only when you have made certain that the two dragon-keepers are locked in an animated chatter do you emerge from your hidden spot, running past them in a blur of movements.

The bowels of the castle are off-limits to many servants save a handful of guards and the dragon-keepers. It is after all home to Meleys, the Red Queen, Princess Rhaenys’s beloved dragon.

Amidst your descent into the foreboding darkness, the beast inside your chest pounds against its cage, wild and frantic. The air is thick, heavy with the scent of dragon, and there, in the shadowy depths of the cavern, you can outline the form of Meleys, her scales shimmering like rubies in the faint glow as she appears to be slumbering, coiled and relaxed. Granted, you have feasted your eyes upon the dragon from afar with no small amount of wonder whenever your Princess takes her out for a flight across the ocean, but it is only given that you will be hypnotised by such a spectacle right before your very eyes, the sheer magnitude and majesty of the Red Queen filling you with intense awe.

A sudden, swift whoosh of her tail sends something aflutter into the wind, and the sight of it spills ice along the length of your spine. Caught on a jagged stone, between you and the dragon, is your lady’s handkerchief.

You have just barely plucked the delicate fabric between your fingers when a low, rumbling growl, seeming to come from the very bowels of the earth itself, shakes you to your core. Slowly, you unstick your eyes from the ground only to find twin orbs of molten gold locked onto you, burning with such malice and ferocity that the force of it alone sends you stumbling back. She rises, hackles raised, and only when a person emerges from behind her large body do you understand why the dragon is being so alarmed.

“Daor, Meles!”

(No, Meleys!)

You are in equal parts absolutely terrified of the doom looming over you, and ridiculously enamoured of your lady’s mother tongue reaching your ears in a tentalising caress.

“Ryptēs. Lykiri.”

(Listen. Be calm.)

One colossal wing unfolds, a protective barrier shielding her rider from you who she deems a possible threat.

“It’s alright. She’s not a threat.”

You can see from where you sit in a sorry little heap, still frozen on the ground, that Princess Rhaenys’s hand has planted firmly against her dragon’s side, offering reassuring strokes that seems to effectively pacify the massive creature. Little by little, her red wing lowers to fold gracefully against her side, and in doing so, reveals to you your lady, comfortably dressed in her dragon-riding attire. There is a steely edge to her face, lips pursed, and gaze stormy when she turns to look at you.

“What, pray tell, do you think you’re doing here?”

So, she demands, and you stand before you answer, or at least, you try to, but the suddenness of it encourages a dizzy spell that has you wobbling on your feet. That has been your foolish mistake for you have offered the doom, that is silently, solemnly observing you, one wrong move, and one is plenty enough of a sign for her to finally descend upon you. With a snarl, scary and sinister, the red queen takes a step forward.

“Lykiri, Meles. Rȳbās!”

(Be calm, Meles. Focus!)

Helplessly, hopelessly, you swoon over your Princess, who has placed herself between her handmaiden and her dragon, her body a firm wall of protection before your own.

“Lykiri.”

(Be calm.)

Once again, the delicious pulse of her voice flows in the form of High Valyrian, gentleness and authority intertwined as she quells the anger of the dragon with a string of melody that effortlessly spills forth her lips, accompanied by a delicate touch of her fingers on the dragon’s impressive snout. Despite your circumstances, you cannot help but stupidly find the gesture endearing.

“Demās.”

(Sit.)

As oblivious as you are to what your lady is saying, you hang on her ever word, enthralled, and so, too, is Meleys if the way she stops her grumbling to instead sit down on the ground is anything to go by.

“Hegnīr. (Good.)” And with a press of your lady’s fingers, elegantly long and delightfully lithe, that are bestowing gentle caresses along the plane of her cheek, the dragon emits a sound, not akin to the growls from before but a happy noise, supposedly the closest thing to a purr she can manage. “Hmm…ñuhys meles darys. (Hmm…my red queen.)”

Once her dragon is settled, you become the focus of the Princess’s attention, or rather, the object of her ire. “You’re not supposed to be here.” She scolds, her stony-eyed gaze pinning you in place. “And what have you got there?”

Following her eyes, you find that they are resting on your hand, grip, white-knuckled tight as fingers curl around the handkerchief, her handkerchief, for dear life. “It’s- I- uhmm-” Silently, patiently, she studies you as you try but fail miserably to stammer out an explanation, for the words get tangled in your throat.

One footfall of her boots brings her closer to you.

One more and you will be able to feel her breath on your face.

Her gaze, although just as intense, has begun harbouring a touch of softness as those fingers, which have served as one of the focuses of your fantasies, lock around your wrist, thumb of her other hand tracing the embroidered initials. “This is mine.” She speaks matter-of-factly. “Why do you have it?”

Your eyes are cast to the ground, roaming over every bump and ridge of rock, anything but her face, and so, with her hand still fitted around your wrist like a snug bracelet, she tugs you, not unkindly, merely as a means to draw attention. “Eyes on me.”

How are you to resist a direct command from your Princess? A command to feast your eyes upon the mesmerising planes and valleys of her face no less.

It comes to you as easily as breathing, admiring the little lines bracketing her lips and the delicate crow’s feet below her eyes, and enjoying every moment of it, but not so much having your soul laid bare beneath her hot scrutiny. The brilliance of her stare gives rise to goosebumps on your body, the little hair on the back of your nape standing when you hear Meleys in the background. The dragon levels you with those twin suns of hers, pools of liquid gold that shimmer with curiosity, in return for the peek you have sneaked. Her stare is both mesmersing and terrifying. A strangled little gasp tumbles out of your lips, whereas a thrill that simmers low in her maw seems to vibrate deep within your bones.

“Fear not.” Your lady’s face gravitates towards you, but a whisker away. “Meleys wouldn’t touch a hair on your head unless I say so.”

“But me on the other hand, hmm,” Middle and fore finger touch a lock of your hair as she whispers in your ear. “I’m not quite sure.”

“I- I’m sorry, my lady. It smelt of you,” You swallow, warm and fuzzy. “-and it was so inviting, and I couldn’t help myself.”

A pad of a thumb traces the bone of your cheek, before opting to pluck your chin between forefinger and a thumb. Gingerly, she angels your face until your gazes collide. “Oh, I bet you couldn’t.”

She watches you intently, her eyes roaming over every feature on your face, and despite the cheeks that are dusted cherry red and the sorry little thing swelling painfully inside your chest, you glory in her attention, soaking every droplet of it.

Dainty and delicate in appearance, her lips call out to you, a siren’s song, and just as you are entertaining the idea of throwing all caution to the wind to chase after the forbidden temptation, they fall upon you.

No amount of wildest dreams can hold a candle to the real experience. Smooth and soft, her lips are the sweetest thing you have ever had the pleasure of consuming, but underneath it all is an addictive spiciness, you quickly discover, once a velveteen tip of a tongue licks the swell of your lips. No sooner has the delicate bud unfurled like a flower in bloom than the ravenous snake slithers inside in search of sweet nectar.

An arm has twined itself around your waist, pulling you against her body, kiss intensifying as teeth nibble and tongue tangle, and with a choked little noise, your hand descends upon your lady’s shoulder.

In the haze of it all, you cannot help but appreciate her hair, a cascade of white satin falling beautifully down her shoulders, which you braid every morning and comb every night. A knit appears between your brows. Clearly, her hair is fashioned. Although, you do not remember putting these particular braids on her head.

“You didn’t send for me to have your hair done.” Fingers toy with a lock of hair, perpetually drenched in moon glow. “Who did these, my lady?”

“I can manage a few braids myself, dear girl.”

A nip on the delicate underside of your chin proves to be a dizzying distraction.

Meanwhile, blossoms of her kisses have branched off to your neck, lips closing around the little notch on your throat. Like dewdrops blooming on leaves on a misty morning, specks of perspiration has appeared on your forehead. She sucks once, and your spine arches. Another, and with a trickle of gasps down your lips, your body curves deeper into your lady’s.

“You’re trembling.” She breathes into the hummingbird flutter of your pulse, voice throaty and hot, and you feel it on your skin more than you hear it. “Is it the cold?”

“No,” Her hand tugs one part of your chemise down, and doing so leaves your shoulder bare. “No, Princess. It is you.”

“Hmm.” Lips glide across your skin, planting firmly on the slope of your shoulder, and sucking the flesh into the hot cavern of her mouth until it is red and rosy and deliciously raw.

Then, she arises, thumb outlining the fleshy swell of your lips, dewy and kiss-swollen, before opting to cradle your face in the palm of her hand. A ghost of a smile that blossoms on her lips is such a sight for sore eyes. You drink it in like a parched man.

A beautiful mess, the Princess has left you, and she takes her sweet time relishing her masterful craft.

“Gevie.”

Her mother tongue makes a delightful reappearance, this time solely for your ears, and you are but butter in her arms, melting from the sultriness of her cadence alone.

“What does it mean, my lady.” Your gaze, doe-eyed and love-struck, finds hers. Her amused little grin is not easily discernible, but all too familiar with the nuances of the Princess’s expressions, you find it in those enchanting browns, in the soft little lines on her face that becomes just a touch vivider. “Beautiful.”

“I’ve found myself wondering what my touch would do to you-” Her gaze moves to the stolen keepsake that still resides within your grasp. “-if this flimsy, little fabric was capable of making you moan my name so reverently in bed.”

The knowledge that she is aware of your deed breeds excitement, sends tingles down your spine. A twinkle of anticipation has appeared plain as day in your eyes, and to your pleasant surprise, a chuckle spills forth her lips, deep and dizzying.

“But perhaps another time.” She drops a kiss atop the little arch of your nose, and your eyes slip shut, full of bliss. “And keep the handkerchief. I’m sure it’ll be more useful in your hands than it is in mine.”

A feather light touch has found home on your naked shoulder, a gentle flap of a butterfly’s wings against the deep purple bloom that her mouth has so exquisitely painted on your skin. With a hum, she fixes the chemise so that the evidence of her doing lies hidden beneath the fabric, away from prying eyes and gossiping servants.

“Come. Let Meleys rest. She has had enough entertainment for one day.”

You let out a long, deep sigh as you relax into the warm bubbling water. Watching as steam swirls up and away from the hot tub into the cold air of the room, the dusky sky prickles with the first sign of stars showing on the darkness starting to set, fully visible through the large windows.

Your eyes close as you feel the light pressure of the constant massager of the walls on the jacuzzi, the sweet scented bubbles surround you, in a matter of seconds you are completely covered by them.

You had somewhat of an odd morning, after putting some assholes in their place, then a lovely shower with your girlfriend.

You shared a delicious meal, which Emily had spent holding your hand over the table for its entirety, she insisted, because who knows when you would have that freedom again? Without having to worry about going to the same restaurant as a colleague.

Just the two of you, table for dos like she had told the waiter, getting a giggle out of you, and your hands tied together over the tablecloth, not bothering to let go, not even to grab your fork.

You had spent a lovely evening at the pool, this time Emily accepted to go for a swim with you, but it ended after she tried to grab your ass under the water for the seventh time, and you suggested it was time to get out, you sat with a book in your hands, watching as Emily fell asleep behind her sunglasses, her own book still in her hand.

Yes, definitely a wonderful day, and as you watched the sun set from your window, Emily suggested you put the hot tub to good use, luckily for you, dinner is served late.

Just as you become lost in your daydream, you awake to the sound of your girlfriend’s steps.

Emily tip-toeing to were you lay, dressed with her robe, and holding two glasses of red wine, handing you one, you nod in acceptance "thank you" you mutter, and take a sip, leaving it next to you.

She gets to the tub and removes her robe, revealing a crimson red bikini covering very little of her body.

Not that you were complaining of course. Had she even packed something that actually covered anything?

You eye her up, her tender smile warms up your heart. "This is cute" you say, tugging your finger on the string of her bikini bottoms. She scoffs, taking a sip of her wine "You are cute yourself, baby" she says, making you slightly blush.

Her slim, toned legs dip into the warm water one at a time and she lowers her body in with a gasp, "Oooh, that's warm!", she laughs, wading over to sit next to you.

"I see you found the wine" you say reaching behind you to get your glass.

"You know i always do" she added wryly, rising her glass "to us" she smiles.

"to us" you repeat, clinking your glasses together before taking a satisfying swig of the liquid, the bubble dancing on your tongue.

You thoughtfully watch as Emily takes a few sips from her glass before setting it aside and resting back into the warm water.

"I feel so lucky"  she muses, smiling fondly at you. Her tone becoming mellow, almost melancholy.

"What do you mean?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Us... this..." she says, scooching closer to you, gesturing with her hand to make you look around the room, "You know we were this close to not make it" she adds, referring to how your relationship had taken a little long to start.

"yeah, i know..." you grab her hand to hold it, caressing her palm with your thumb.

"Sometimes I wonder what would've happened, you know, if things had been different, if our paths had never crossed" she utters.

"I would've found you, maybe at a bar, too afraid to approach you, and then maybe thought about getting you a drink" you start wondering, Emily seems to enjoy your daydream, and joins in.

"Or maybe, I would've been the one who eyed you at a bar, and thought about you for months before calling my Interpol contact to find you" a malicious smile crossing her face.

"Emily Prentiss you cannot use your Interpol contact just to find a girl you met at a bar!" you reprimand her, she giggles at your reaction.

"I can if the girl was you!" she says still laughing, which makes you laugh too. "mh- good answer" you approve, and she tilts her head to give you a chaste kiss, you smiling against her lips.

"Ok, and what if we hadn't fallen in love?" she asks, wanting to continue with the 'what if' game.

"I don't think there's any universe in which i wouldn't fall in love with you, Em" you declare, but she pushes through.

"Ok, ok, fair enough, then when was it?" she says, changing the question now.

"when was what?" you ask, taking another sip from your wine.

"when did you realize you were falling for me?" her thumb caressing the back of your hand reassuringly.

The question takes you by surprise, you know it isn't so common for Emily to open up like this, however, since you had started dating, you had lost count of the times she had opened up to you like this.

It was during the late nights, until one of you drifts off, the random questions she'd blurt out when she couldn't fall asleep.

That one time when you asked 'Em, would you still love me if i was a worm?' and then her response 'Babe if you were a worm i'd build you a little house next to my bed so you could sleep next to me, i'd keep you in my pocket all the time to kiss you, and carry you around with me' and the way it had made you smile.

Still, you treasure this moments and the way she tells you she loves you every day, how she insists to hold your hand, to kiss your face whenever she can.

"well, i don't think i can put a finger on it, it just happened" you rely on the sensation of the warm water bubbles around you, Emily takes another sip of her wine, you observe her lips as she does and you feel the need to elaborate some more.

"i guess, i felt something completely new when i shook your hand" you play with her fingers, rolling yours between hers where your hands are still interlocked.

"then i realized how nervous it made me to look at you, and to speak to you" you continue, her hand caress yours, massaging your fingers.

"how dare you! Nervous my ass, you flirted with me all.the.time! I was the one who melted everytime you came to my vicinity!" she blurts out, acting offended. Her laugh is contagious, making you giggle, realizing there's a degree of truth in what she says.

"Ok, ok, you're right, but i did get butterflies every time, that's true" you defend yourself. You both laugh, stealing a couple of kisses here and there.

"and what about you?" you ask, pulling away from her to take another sip of your glass, she does the same "when did you know?" you repeat the question.

She makes a pause, leaving her glass again, then looks down as if trying to find the words, and then looks up at you.

"Well, I could tell you it was the first time I saw you, and it would be true, but you wouldn't believe me, and you would say it's superficial" she starts, you chuckle, but nod on agreement.

"there's just no way you fell in love with me when we first met, we barely spoke" you refuse.

"see? i told you you wouldn't believe me, so i chose another moment" she says, taking a pause, and then her eyes meet yours, her gaze always soft and fervent, you notice how her pupils expand, the alcohol and the setting probably contributing, but mostly you can tell it's the conversation that's got her so soft.

"On my first week, I was still new to everyone, and then… you went by and, you were talking to JJ about,… I don't remember what it was exactly, i think something about Rossi's last wife, and then you came by to me, with JJ behind you, and you... sat in my desk" she smiles baring her teeth, biting her tongue, her signature face when she is kind of embarrassed to say something, a soft pink shade blushing her cheeks.

"And that's when you knew you had fallen in love with me?" you ask in disbelief.

"yes! I mean, it was the gesture! You directed the focus to me, brought the conversation to my desk so i could feel included, it was such a sweet moment, and it was so natural for you. So i looked up at you, and you smiled at me, and i... just knew. 'I'm gonna sleep with this woman’ ” her playfullness making you chuckle.

"Em! Don't ruin it!" you say, hitting her arm playfully.

"I'm serious!" her voice soft and sincere now, you feel a warmth spread through your chest "I was trying to make you feel welcome," a nostalgic smile curving your lips.

"but i guess i was the one who ended being captivated" you finish, Emily laughs lightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You did more than captivate me. You made me feel seen. You still do, every day." She leans in, pressing her lips gently to yours, the kiss filled with love and promise.

You hold her close, savoring the moment, the taste of wine on her lips, and the warmth of the water enveloping you both.

"I love you" you murmur against her mouth, feeling a rush of gratitude for this incredible woman beside you.

"mh- I love you too" she replies, her fingers tracing a path up your arm, her palm reaching to rest your faace.

The heat grows between you, you trap her lower lip between yours, tugging and biting a bit too hard with your teeth, the way you know she likes it, it grows a life of its own.

"That's enough wine" she says, pulling away from you, and taking your glass from your hand along with hers, leaving them both out.

The heat spreads through your body just by looking at her, her soft, muscular back visible when she turns to leave the glasses. You stand up from your spot.

She turns back around. her eyes meet yours at first but leave fast to look down at your figure, her mouth opened in shock, it takes her a second for her astonishment to turn into a devious smile.

"You forgot your suit" she says, her eyes still running up and down your naked figure.

"I know" you say with a smiliar smile to hers curving your mouth, biting your lip.

Her hands hold yours, and she pulls you to make you straddle her, you place one leg on each side of her. Her hands hold your thighs, her fingers tightening up on your soft flesh, her breath warm against your neck.

Emily feels a deep throbbing between her legs as you start to grind on her lap. She pulls your hips towards her, kissing your hungrily.

She let a hand drop between her legs to tease your entrance, letting out a gasp of pleasure.

"Oh Em", you breath heavily, making a poor attempt to restrain yourself. You roll your hips forward, searching for friction from Emily's hand.

You push your fingers inside her panties and stroke at Emily's bud, "You always make me feel like so good", she whispers, trying to reach for the curve of her neck to kiss it, you laugh breathily.

"Oh gods, me too!", you sigh blissfully, rubbing yourself up and down on Emily's hand. "Don't ever stop", she adds.

You both come together, your tongues dancing into each other's mouth as you kissed each other deeply, desperate to get closer and closer. 

As the kiss deepens, you pull away for a moment to slide Emily's bikini bottoms down her legs, not giving her a second before pulling her back onto your lap.

You run your fingers back and forth through over her sensitive clit, watching in awe as she closes her eyes in ecstasy, her head tilted up.

You alternate between circling her bud and running your fingers back to her entrance before pushing two fingers inside of her.

Emily groans out loud, holding tightly onto your shoulders as she accustoms to the feeling, letting her hips lower onto your hand.

She slowly rolled her hips back and forth on your lap, hitching her breath in pleasure as your fingers graze that sweet spot inside of her.

Whilst you hold your hand in place for her to pish onto, you use the other hand to pull her top down, taking her breast into her mouth, gently grazing with her teeth and swirl yourr tongue around Emily's hardening nipple.

She whimpers and pushes harder onto your hand, her pace quickening. "Baby, that feels so good", she sighs, bucking her hips onto you.

"Tell me what you need.." you mutter.

"Mmmm ..", she groans "Harder, darling. A bit harder".

Her wish is your command, you pick up your pace, pushing up firmly into her.

"Mm-hmm", Emily nods, her face flushed with the heat of the water, her breasts pushed up against you.

She kisses you deeply one more time, you use your thumb to brush speedily over her clit, Emily's thrusts becoming irratic and desperate.

Emily squeezes hard at your thighs with her own, pulsing waves of pleasure jolting through her, as her climax burned through her body.

She breathlessly comes to rest in your lap, blissful and calm.

You rub her back as she slump forward, recovering her breaths.

"Oh baby, that was lovely", you chuckled, as she lifts herself upright to kiss you.

"I'm glad" you say, another breathless lough scapes through your lips, resting your head over her shoulder and closing your eyes, resting in the moment.

"I will get my turn, though" she threatens.

"Oh, I'll be waiting for it" you say, now you both look at each other, starring into you, the softness of her gaze lingers onto your eyes, as she brushes her soft fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face.

"Oh, it's coming" her fingertips caress your face, "so be ready" she purrs, another soft chuckle escaping your lips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sorry for the wait! I know this one is way shorter than the past two, but i wanted to do something sweeter and i already have ideas for the next one's that i wanted to get to asap.

“Yet. I’m going to have to go flirt with the maintenance guy and he always stares because he knows that I am a prime woman that he can not keep up with,” she said.

“Of course you are, baby girl. Now go work that pretty face of yours,” Morgan said.

You sighed, sitting up again. It’s not as if you’d be getting any work done with them at your desk, and nor could you nap in the heat. Just the feeling of your skin was making you feel insane.

“When are they going to fix this damned thing?” Emily said, striding out of her office, file clutched in her hand. You felt your heart skip a beat. She was hotter than the heatwave you were going through, and even sweaty, she still made you catch your breath. It wasn’t fair how sexy she was when you were a gross mess.

“Thursday,” Garcia called over to her.

“Can’t we do something about that? she asked, striding over to the huddle that had sprung up at your desk.

“Do you want to flirt with the maintenance guy?” Garcia asked.

“The one with the lazy eye or the one who always smells like cheese?” she asked.

“That’s the same person and yes, that one,” she replied.

Emily shook her head, nose wrinkled. Garcia sighed, crossing her arms over her chest then immediately uncrossing them.

“Hey, what’s that on your chest?” Morgan asked, pointing.

You looked down, not able to see anything out the ordinary. You looked back up, finding him staring at your chest. Then it clicked. You knew he’d been too quiet, and you’d been so distracted by Emily that you hadn’t noticed.

“Are you staring at my tits?” you asked him.

“No,” he said, looking up to your eye, “yes.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, much in the way Garcia had. It only pushed your tits up, making them more obvious. Garcia was openly looking, eyebrows drawing together until realisation dawned over her face. Emily’s eyes darted down then up to your face again, tongue darting out to drag along her bottom lip. The tension that had been stretching between the two of you for weeks was making you arch your back just a little, giving her a better view.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business,” you said, trying to not get flustered from the heat in Emily’s gaze, “but I have my nipples pierced.”

You lifted your chin, waiting for one of them to say something. A grin spread over Morgan’s face and you could already hear the comments. You glared, waiting for him to say something.

“The girls like that, huh?” he asked.

“They don’t hate it,” you replied.

You couldn’t bare to look at Emily. You might implode if you did. Her reaction could either make or break your ability to think around her. Although, you were hoping she was one of the girls who didn’t hate it.

“Now, if we’re done talking about my nipples, I believe Garcia has a maintenance man to flirt with so none of us die before Thursday,” you said.

You turned back to your computer, your report waiting for you. You did your best to continue working, feeling the weight of the three people standing behind you slow to move away. You were done talking about it in front of your boss, who happened to be the one person you thought about when your fingers were buried deep within you.

“Turns out flirting with Manny in maintenance did nothing. He’s called a guy from the air conditioning company to come fix it and wouldn’t give me his number so I could flirt with him,” Garcia said, stopping by your desk, “so pool party at Rossi’s tonight. You in?”

“Does he know you’re hosting a pool party at his place?” you asked.

“Of course,” she said, “bring your best bikini.”

It was a relief to change into your bikini after work. The cool brush of air on your skin before you pulled on a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt. The air con in your car was the only thing getting you through the drive, bare thighs sticking to the leather of the seat. You parked, staring up at the big house. You jumped when someone knocked on your window.

“Hey,” you said, stepping out of your car.

“So they roped you into this too, huh?” Emily said, closing the door for you, trapping you against the car. Your eyes flicked down her body, a tank top and jeans covering whatever swimsuit she had on. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of seeing her in one when you’d agreed to come.

“Are you kidding? Free pool and free drinks? Count me in,” you said.

She chuckled, those dark eyes sweeping over you. Your skin felt on fire and you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat wave or from the sexy woman in front of you.

“Earlier, at the office,” she said, that tongue you’d dreamt about dragging along her lower lip, “when you were talking about-“

“Are you two going to stand out there all night or are you going to come get wet?”

You jumped, back hitting the side of your car as you startled. Garcia was standing in the doorway, looking at the two of you like you’d both lost your minds. You laughed, trying to cover the dirty thoughts slipping through your mind at Garcia’s words.

“Come on,” you said.

You slipped past her, body brushing against hers. Her eyes were still trained on you, sweeping over your body, and you were trying your best not to read too much into it. You combed your fingers through your hair, pulling it up into a ponytail to get it off the sticky skin of your neck. With your back to her, you missed the way Emily watched you, eyes darkening and lips pulling up into a smirk.

You were quick to pick up an ice cold beer as you passed through the kitchen, plucking it from the cooler. Derek flung his arm over your shoulders, already dripping from the pool. You wrinkled your nose, shoving his arm off you.

“What took you so long?” Morgan asked, “changing into more pool appropriate jewellery?”

“You keep that up and you’ll never get out of that pool,” you replied.

“Do you have to change them to make them pool safe?” Garcia asked.

“Change what?” Spencer asked, dipping his toe into the pool, trousers rolled up to his ankles.

“My piercings. They’re the big news of the day,” you replied, “we’re not talking about this any more.”

“But you don’t have your ears-“

You shoved Reid in the shoulder. His arms windmilled before he fell forward, a large splash going up, water landing on your bare legs. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the giggles in. They burst from you, unwilling to be contained. He was gasping for air when he emerged from the water, hair plastered to his face.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Emily chided, coming up behind you.

“I told him we weren’t talking about it anymore,” you said.

“Of course you were,” she said.

You weren’t expecting her hands landing on your shoulders, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt. With very little effort, she shoved you backwards, straight into the cold water of the pool. Your shriek was cut off as you went under.

Spluttering, you surfaced from the water. The laughter was surrounding you. You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of the pool, offering a hand to Reid to pull him out after you.

“Alright, point taken,” you said, “can we stop talking about my nipples now?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s face turned into a tomato.

You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Wringing it out over the pool, you didn’t notice the way Emily’s eyes were lingering on your bare skin, water dripping down your body. You turned, slinging the shirt over one of the loungers, once again failing to notice how Emily’s eyes lingered where your piercings were pressing up against your bikini top.

“Alright, I’m getting another beer since mine is now at the bottom of the pool,” you said, “spoils to the victors I guess.”

Stripping your sneakers and socks off, you left them on the deck and stepped back into the kitchen. Bending, you rummaged through the ice and the cans for a bottle. You stood, empty handed, disappointment making you sigh.

“Oh, have we already run out?”

You jerked, spinning towards the woman you hadn’t heard follow you. Bumping into her, something cold sloshed over your skin. The bottle held in her hand was sweating in the warm air and the scent of beer was on the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, finger swiping through the beer clinging to your skin, right over the soft skin beside the wet fabric of your bikini.

“It’s alright. It was an accident,” you said, breath catching, heart thudding, skin heating.

“You might want to clean up. We wouldn’t want you to be so…” She raised her dark eyes from where she’d been watching her finger trail through the beer on your skin, “sticky.”

You stumbled back a step from her, heart racing. You had no idea what was going through her head but all you could think was how you wanted her tongue to trace the same route as her finger.

“I’m going to… go wash this off,” you said, slipping past her.

Her eyes followed you out of the room and this time you did notice. You weren’t fleeing but you were strategically retreating or else you might beg her lick you clean. You closed the door, giving yourself room to breathe again.

Turning on the faucet, you dabbed at the trail of drying beer on your skin. When you looked up again you found the door opening and a dark haired figure sliding into the bathroom with you. Your eyes widened when they met Emily’s in the mirror.

“Sorry. I’ll just be a second,” you said.

“No rush,” she hummed.

Reaching around you, she placed the glass bottle down on the edge of the sink, arm brushing against the dip of your waist. You stilled, frozen from how close she was, staring into her face. Lips pulled up into a confident smirk. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding your breath as she seemed to draw even closer.

“I was hoping to get you alone tonight. I have a favour to ask,” she said, voice deepening as her eyes swept down again, focusing on your bare skin and the way your hardened nipples were showing through your bikini top.

“Oh?” you squeaked.

“Will you show me your piercings?” she asked.

You stuttered over an answer, cheeks heating as the thought of showing her filled your head. Your head quickly emptied of thoughts as her finger came up, playing with the string of your bikini. It brushed up over your collarbone before gently running over your pulse point. She watched you as she gently tugged on it, snapping it back against your skin.

“Please?” she asked, voice lowering until it was an intimate whisper.

“Alright,” you said, breathless, desperate, her touch making you a mess with so little effort.

She stepped back, her hand slipping from you. You took a deep shuddering breath, reaching up to slowly pull the knot free. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip as your top slid free, exposing your chest to her. One hand came up, resting against your ribs, steadying you as she stared down at your tits.

“So pretty,” she murmured.

One finger gently tapped on the ball at the end of the bar of one of the piercings. Your sharp inhalation brought her eyes up to yours, smouldering as she did it again. You weren’t aware of arching your back, pushing them towards her but her satisfied smirk was answer enough.

“Does that feel good, princess?” she asked. That nickname sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs.

“Uh huh,” you replied.

She gently tugged on the other, your small whimper making her chuckle.

“Use you words, princess,” she said.

“Feels so good,” you replied.

She did it again, a little rougher. Her name was a soft sigh, arching even further, practically begging her to continue. She complied, both hands playing with the jewellery in your nipples. Your fingers clutched at the counter, holding you up as you lent backwards.

“And what do you say when I make you feel so good?” she murmured, drawing closer.

“Thank you, daddy,” slipped from between your lips, surprising you. Your eyes widened, an apology ready, until you saw the way her eyes darkened, a sharp tug on one piercing then the other making you forget why you should.

She lent forward, breath ghosting over your hardened nipples. You froze, waiting to see what she was about to do. Her pink tongue ran along the length of one bar. Your moan was embarrassing in your ears but her hands were wrapped around your ribs, holding you in place as she did the same thing to the other one. She hummed, doing it again, transitioning from metal to flesh back to metal.

The clack of her teeth against the metal startled you until she tugged again, lips brushing flesh. Your knees were turning to jelly and you were gasping for air, but she held you in place as she played with your jewellery. Your head tipped back, fingers tangling in her dark hair as you pressed her closer. She hummed again, taking your nippled in her mouth, tongue playing with the piercing.

The throbbing between your legs was growing and you could feel how wet you were. You wanted her. You wanted her so badly it was like a physical thing, lodged in your chest. The vibration of her moan while her eyes looked up at you made you make small noise in the back of your throat.

Her teeth closed on the metal, tugging on it to the point of pain curling around the pleasure. The way you moaned her name was filthy, embarrassing in how desperate you were. Her hand was gentle as it skimmed up your body for those long fingers wrapped around your throat. She tugged on your piercing again, fingers tightening just enough for your whine to be quiet.

“Now you’re going to be good for daddy, aren’t you?” she said.

“Yes,” you breathed, not even sure what you were agreeing to.

“Then be good for daddy and turn around.”

You scrambled to follow her instructions, turning to face the mirror. Your eyes were blown wide in the mirror, wild and desperate. Her fingers curled around your throat again, the prettiest necklace you could imagine. With one foot she knocked both of yours apart, her other hand reaching around your body to play with the button of your denim shorts.

“You’re so good at following my instructions,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You felt breathless, and not just from the tightening pressure on your throat.

“Do you see how pretty you are? Looking so lovely for daddy. Wearing such pretty jewellery for me. Flaunting this body. Do you know what you do to me?” she continued, the hand on the waistband of your shorts trailing up, playing with one of your piercings again.

“Those tight little skirts in the office, watching me like you’re just waiting for me to bend you over my desk, asking for discipline. You want me to give you my full attention, don’t you princess?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“And that’s why you decided to show off to everyone today, isn’t it? I noticed the way you arched your back, wanting everyone to see these pretty little piercings. Did you want everyone to be imagining what you look like like this, your beautiful body on display, just perfect for my hands to play with? Such a little slut trying to get my attention.”

Her fingers tightened again around your neck. Those dark eyes were watching you, the cocky smirk on her lips only making you shift closer, pressing your hips backwards towards her. You brushed against a bulge in her pants, confusion marring your features before realisation dawned over your face.

“Do you want daddy’s cock, princess?” she asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Then beg for it.”

Her eyes met yours in the mirror, waiting with a patience you did not feel.

“Please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. I need it. I need to feel you inside me. Please,” you pleaded, “please fuck me, daddy. I’ll be so good for you. I want you so much.”

Her hand trailed back down to your shorts, unbuttoning them.

“That’s my good girl,” she said.

She tugged your shorts down, your bikini bottom following close behind. You kicked them away as she tugged her hips back, the bulge in her pants brushing against the bare skin of your ass. A small whine fell from your lips, pressing further backwards.

A finger passed through your folds, gathering your wetness before it ghosted over your clit. If not for the hand still wrapped around your throat, your head would have fallen forward with a small groan. Her throaty chuckle as she teased you only made you whine, begging her for more. She held your eyes in the mirror, finger dipping into your entrance, just barely, stealing your breath again.

“Look at how desperate you are. Such a desperate little slut begging for daddy’s cock. Pretty little whore wanting to please me.”

Her hand disappeared from between your legs and the sound of a zipper made you shiver. The warmth of her body pressed against your back. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the sink, knees turning to jelly.

She held you steady, one hand on your hip as the tip of her strap teased your entrance. She gave a shallow thrust, the strap stroking through your folds. Your breath turned shaky and her fingers tightened just a little bit more, enough that you could only just suck air into your lungs.

“You’re going to make such a mess on daddy’s cock. You’re dripping. Is all this for me?”

“Yes,” came out as a strangled groan, “all for you.”

“That’s my good girl.”

She was slow to push into you, so controlled in contrast to how desperation burned through your veins. Her dark eyes were watching you in the mirror, cataloguing the way pleasure rippled over your face and a moan fell from your lips. She pushed in to the hilt, hips flushed with yours. Pausing there, she let you feel how perfectly she filled you. You wriggled your hips, wanting more, the throbbing more than you could deal with.

“Use your words, princess,” she chided, holding you still.

“Please fuck me, daddy. Please,” you whined, “need you so bad.”

“Good girl.”

She pulled out until only the tip of the cock was left before slamming into you. The cry that left your lips would have embarrassed you if a wave of pleasure wasn’t rolling over you. Your fingers clenched, holding on tight as she dragged the strap out, pausing for too long before plunging in again.

The pace she set was relentless. Harsh and rough, she maintained eye contact with you, fingers clenching around your throat the moment it looked as if you were about to look away. Her other hand was finding its home between your thigh, circling your clit, a slow contrast to her thrusts. The mumbled encouragements in your ears were only setting fire to your bloodstream.

“You’re taking it so well for daddy,” she murmured, “such a pretty pussy hungry for daddy’s cock. My little cock slut.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you sighed.

“So polite.” She sounded so pleased with you.

You moaned as her pace picked up, slamming into you. Her thumb was grinding down on your bundle of nerves and you could feel her panting breath against your skin. Her hand was tightening around your throat, cutting off your air supply. You watched her in the mirror watching you. You met her thrust for thrust, pressing your hips back to hers. You felt so full with her inside of you, her cock emptying your head of anything but her and the way she made you feel hazy with pleasure.

“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimpered.

“No cumming without permission, princess,” she told you, not bothering to slow her pace.

You did your best, holding yourself back, trying so hard not to orgasm. You wanted to be her good girl. To do what she asked you. To please her.

“Look at how pretty your pussy is when I fuck into it. It was made for my cock, wasn’t it, princess? Made just for me to use,” she murmured, hips driving into you.

She wasn’t holding back. She was watching you, so closely, making sure you followed her instructions. From the curl of her lips she knew how hard you were trying and how difficult she was making it for you. Each thrust of her cock hit that place within you that made your legs tremble and your blood sing. Over and over, thumb grinding, the pleasure was turning painful as you held yourself back.

“Please, daddy. Need to cum so bad,” you begged, tears beginning to gather in the corner of your eyes.

“Not yet, princess. Keep making daddy feel good,” she said, “you’re doing so well for me.”

You sobbed, so close to coming undone but determined to be a good girl for her. She kept pounding into you, her praise only making it harder to hold on. With a tight grip, she cut off your air supply completely. Her eyes found yours in the mirror again, and her lips ticked up into a smirk.

“Okay, cum for me, princess,” she said.

It crashed into you the moment you let it. Pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You sobbed out your thanks, hips stuttering as you felt yourself begin to collapse forward. The hand around your throat kept you up as she fucked you through the orgasm.

She released you, letting you fall over the sink. Her thrusting slowed until she was sheathed within you, holding you, hands gentle until you caught your breath. Sweat slicked your skin and your breathing was uneven, but when you looked in the mirror your eyes were bright and your smile lazy.

“You were so good for me, princess. Such a good girl. So perfect for me,” she praised, “you did so well.”

She pulled out of you, the feeling of being full disappearing with her. She lowered you onto the edge of the bath, so gentle. Looking up, still with her tank top on and the cock between her legs, you found yourself staring. She’d just made you cum harder than ever in your life and you wanted her to touch you again.

With sure hands, she wetted a flannel before kneeling in front of you, cleaning the sticky arousal from your skin. You melted, watching her clean you up. You reached out, running your hand through her hair. She smiled up at you, fingers trailing over the skin of your legs. Her lips pressed to the inside of your knee and you softened.

“Was that okay?” she asked, “were you okay with that?”

“More than.” You lent forward, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Emily. This was basically my dream coming true.”

“Mine too,” she said, looking up at you.

“Maybe we could do this again,” you said, doing your best not to worry she was about to tell you this was a one time thing. She pushed the hair that had fallen from your ponytail behind your ear.

“Oh, we’re definitely doing this again,” she said, raising from her knees, “I plan on having you in every way possible.”

You heated at the thought. She tucked her strap on back into her trousers, pulling them up and re-buttoning them. She lent forward again, catching your chin between thumb and forefinger. Her lips pressed to yours, so quick it left you wanting more.

“Enjoy the beer, princess,” she said, tapping on the ball of one of your piercings, making you hiss, “you’ve earned it.”

She slipped out of the bathroom, leaving you alone to redress and try to not look like you’d just been fucked in Rossi’s bathroom. The smile on your face was a dead give away. You fixed your ponytail and pulled on your damp clothes, watching yourself in the mirror. Picking up the bottle left for you, you took a long drink from it, your lips where Emily’s had been not so long ago. Your smile refused to dim.

"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"

The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"

"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"

"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?

"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."

Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.

"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.

Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.

What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.

By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.

It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.

By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.

She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"

"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."

"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.

And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.

Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.

Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.

JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.

Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.

Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.

The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.

"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.

Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."

"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"

Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."

Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."

And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.

Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.

It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.

The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?

Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.

The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.

She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.

However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.

"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.

Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.

JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.

~

The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.

"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."

"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.

She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.

"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.

Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.

They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.

Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.

"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"

Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.

"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.

And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.

The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.

"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.

"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.

"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.

And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.

It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.

"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.

"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."

Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.

"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.

~

Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.

But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.

"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.

"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.

She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.

The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.

But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.

Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.

A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.

In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.

"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.

Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.

Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."

Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."

Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.

It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.

"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."

Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."

The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.

"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."

Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?

Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.

She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.

~

It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.

"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."

"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.

"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."

"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."

Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."

The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"

Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.

"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.

Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.

Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.

"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.

But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.

Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.

"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."

"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."

Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."

"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...

"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"

They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."

She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"

Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.

She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.

And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.

Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.

They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.

Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.

It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.

The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.

Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"

She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.

When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."

"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.

Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.

She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.

Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.

Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.

She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.

She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.

The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.

Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.

Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.

But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."

Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.

That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.

She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.

Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.

Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.

The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.

"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.

"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.

The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.

He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.

"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.

"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"

"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."

Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.

It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.

Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"

"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."

It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.

The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.

The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.

~

It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.

Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.

Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.

Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."

"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.

She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.

It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.

Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.

JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.

Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.

"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.

Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.

"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.

And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.

Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.

A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.

"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.

She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.

While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.

"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.

A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."

"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.

Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n, let's go."

"No."

They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.

"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"

That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.

"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.

"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."

Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."

"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.

Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.

"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"

The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.

It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.

This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.

Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."

Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.

Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.

Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.

Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."

~

Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.

There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.

"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?

She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.

The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.

It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.

The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."

It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.

Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."

Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"

"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.

"And what is it I want?"

"Me."

"Confident much?"

Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.

"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.

"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"

Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.

Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."

"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.

"Admit to what exactly?"

"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"

"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.

Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.

"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.

Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.

"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.

Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.

"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.

Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.

"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."

The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.

"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.

Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.

"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.

"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.

They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.

Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.

The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.

Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."

Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.

Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.

Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"

"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"

The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.

Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.

Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."

And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."

"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.

Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.

Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."

"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."

Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.

Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.

"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.

"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.

Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.

And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.

"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"

"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.

She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.

There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.

Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."

The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.

Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.

And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.

"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.

A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.

She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.

Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.

The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.

Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.

"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.

Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."

Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"

"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.

Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.

"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"

Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.

Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.

It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.

The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.

"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.

The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.

Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."

Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.

Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.

"Yes baby?"

"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"

"Every word."

Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.

"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.

"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."

"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"

Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.

"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"

Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"

"You gonna hold that over my head?"

"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.

And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.

Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.

She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.

"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"

"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.

Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."

Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.

And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.

"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."

Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.

Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.

"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."

The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"

"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."

Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."

"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"

Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."

The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."

"And if it doesn't?"

Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."

"What?!"

A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"

Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.

~

Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.

Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.

Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."

Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.

The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."

"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.

Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."

"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"

Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."

JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"

Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."

Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"

The quiet moans and sensual sighs you hear upon entering your and your girlfriend’s apartment leave little to the imagination. Not wanting to startle her, you make sure to silently take off your shoes and jacket, placing your bag on the dinner table carefully, before making your way to the bedroom on tiptoes. The door stands slightly ajar, just enough so you could peek inside, and you subconsciously bite your lip at the sight in front of you. 

You’ve never seen her like this - on her knees in the middle of your bed, her head thrown back as she desperately tries to keep quiet by biting the back of her hand, and in between her naked thighs there’s a pillow that she’s grinding against. She whines in frustration, and though her back is facing you, you can see the way her face contorts too. You almost find it a little disappointing that her body is covered by a wide dress, but then you remember that you probably shouldn’t secretly spy on her like this.

“Baby,” you call out to her, watching her stop in her tracks and throwing you a look filled with horror.

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t-!” she begins blurting out an apology, and with a short laugh you interrupt her, approaching the bed.

“Don’t.” You shake your head and put your index finger over her lips to shut her up. “Did I leave you waiting for too long, babe?” You crawl onto the bed, settling right behind her as you wrap your arms around her slender frame. You don’t hesitate to nestle your face in the crook of her neck after brushing aside some strands of her long hair that were in the way, and you leave a trail of soft kisses on her skin.

“Y/N…” you hear her mutter your name, and as you press your chest up against her back, you can feel her starting to relax in your embrace.

“You must’ve been so desperate…” you whisper in between kisses, and you let your fingertips dance down her body, leaving feathery light touches all over through the thin fabric of the dress. You can feel that she’s not wearing a bra underneath, leaving you to wonder whether she’s in any underwear at all. But for now you decide to go slow, nipping at the skin on her exposed shoulders and making her sigh in response.

“I was,” she admits. “Or I wouldn’t have…” Yoohyeon doesn’t finish her sentence. Sensing how she feels bad for trying to get off without you, you reach for her chin, turning it to the side so you could kiss her. Lips brushing softly against each other, it doesn’t take long for you to deepen the kiss.

“It’s okay,” you say once you part, and you roll your hips against hers from behind in order to make her follow your movements. Slowly, you lead her to grind against the pillow, and the way she whimpers desperately at the friction leaves you to think that she must badly need a release. “I’ll help you out, love.” Through the dress you cup her breasts, applying pressure as you rub your palms around her hard nipples in circles and earning yourself a few breathy moans as she gives herself up to the feeling. 

“Is that good?” you ask before scattering some more kisses in her neck and continuously rolling your hips in tune with her. 

“Mhmm…” she whines. “M-more…” 

“More?” you repeat, lightly pinching her nipples through the dress and making her mewl.

“More.. please…” she continues to beg, and you take one hand away from her chest to let it travel south. Readily lifting up her dress to make it easier for you to slip your fingers underneath it, she keeps whining for more. You smile at her desperation, sinking your teeth into her skin and at the same time starting to run your fingers up and down her folds. 

“You like that?” you ask, receiving a moan accompanied by a nod of her head. “Want my fingers inside you so badly?”

“Y-yes,” she replies, pleading. “Am so close… wanna cum on your fingers, baby…” Her words make you hum, and you slip two fingers inside her dripping cunt with ease. Pumping them in and out at a moderate pace, she keeps grinding against your hand as the most beautiful whines fall from her lips. Her clit rubbing against the palm of your hand, you reach deeper inside with each thrust, curling your fingers against that sweet spot inside her to make her go crazy. And when you hear her crying out your name, moaning uncontrollably as she begins to shake, you know she’s almost there.

“That’s my good girl,” you praise her, and with one last roll of her hips you have her tumbling over the edge, feeling her clench around your fingers a few times in a steady rhythm. 

As her last aftershocks have passed, you wrap your arms around her and let her fall backwards to lean against you while she’s catching her breath. Pulling out of her to draw circles on the outside of her thigh in soothing motions, you say,

“You feel better now, love?”

no, wait—it's broken. shards of glass are everywhere, and there's a giant gaping hole where the sliding door used to be. and lying crumpled in a heap on the floor in front of it…

you fumble for the light switch, something you probably should've done as soon as you opened the door. the sight that greets you when the light turns on makes you wonder if you're still dreaming, because this can't actually be happening.

there is a superhero on your balcony.

and she's bleeding all over your carpet.

"oh my god—" you hurriedly rush over to get a better look. red-and-blue spandex that's torn in several places, a trail of spiderwebs clinging to her wrists, a large spider symbol printed on the front and back of her suit… it's spider-woman. spider-woman just crashed through your balcony door.

and she's bleeding. on your carpet.

"okay," you mumble, trying to think. at least the fresh night air coming from the massive hole in your balcony door does well to invigorate you. "okay, okay, i need to do something… oh god, my landlord is gonna be so pissed at me—"

the body on the floor lets out a weak groan, and you quickly kneel down next to her. "hello? are—are you okay?"

with great difficulty, the girl struggles to lift up her head. her mask obscures the entirety of her face, so you have a hard time telling whether or not she's fully conscious.

"…ow," she croaks out at last, and then her head falls back to the floor with a thunk. seconds later, her chest begins to slowly rise and fall. a soft snoring sound emits from her mask.

you take a deep breath. okay. you can deal with this.

so here you are almost three hours later, nursing a cup of much-needed coffee as you stare contemplatively at the now-bandaged but still-snoring superhero laid out on the couch in front of you. you had done your best to clean and treat her wounds with your limited medical knowledge (and the suspiciously well-stocked first aid kit that your weird roommate handong keeps in the cupboard), so now you're just waiting for her to wake up. which is taking way too long.

the clock on the coffee table reads 6:15 AM, and you glumly swish around the cold dregs of your morning coffee. it's almost time for you to leave for your 6:30 chemistry class, but it looks like spider-woman is still completely out of it.

after pacing around the kitchen of your tiny apartment for five more minutes, you impulsively grab a post-it note and scribble down a message for spider-woman to see when she wakes up. thankfully your roommate is literally never home, so there's no chance of anyone coming in here and discovering the superhero conked out on your couch.

you sign your name at the bottom of the note and stick it to spider-woman's forehead, hoping she'll be alright. as for your balcony door… thinking about how much it's going to cost to install a new one gives you a headache, so you just stick a large sheet of cardboard over the opening and resolve to take care of it as soon as you get home.

"this has been a very, very weird morning," you say out loud, because nothing about this feels real.

(then again, the tedious hours you spent cleaning up bits of glass from the floor and picking the webs off of spider-woman's suit definitely felt pretty real.)

you throw one last glance at the sleeping heap on your couch before you leave, only hoping that your life will get back to normal after today.

yoohyeon wakes up disoriented, aching all over, and with the horrifying realization that she has most definitely slept past all five of her monday morning alarms.

she blinks sleepily, slowly processing her surroundings. she's lying on a couch, someone has bandaged her wounds and swaddled her in blankets, yubin probably, she's an angel and the best guy in the chair yoohyeon could ever ask for and… whoa, wait a minute.

this isn't her apartment.

with that horrifying realization, yoohyeon sits straight up and whips her head around in a panic. her surroundings are entirely unfamiliar, and she's about to call yubin before remembering that yubin is unreachable right now—away on some sort of top-secret mission that's supposed to last, like, three months. yoohyeon groans. why am i actually the worst superhero ever?

then she realizes that there's something stuck to her forehead and reaches up to find a neon green sticky note with some writing on it, which she slowly reads through with a good deal of trepidation.

hey, you crashed into my apartment last night—you were unconscious but i didn't see your face, don't worry! i fixed up your injuries as best i could but now i need to leave for class, so i hope you'll be okay when you wake up. just remember to put the cardboard back over the balcony door so birds won't fly in or anything :)

phew. so yoohyeon's secret identity hasn't been leaked, that's a relief… but she essentially broke into an innocent civilian's apartment, which she doesn't exactly feel great about. i need to make this right.

"oh, wait—" yoohyeon realizes something and jumps to her feet, the blankets falling around her. "shit, i'm late for class!"

you're dutifully taking notes as the professor drones on about chemical equations, though you're struggling to stay focused—seriously, who decided that 6:30am classes on a monday was a good idea?—when suddenly the doors to the lecture hall burst open and a girl runs in, flushed and panting heavily.

"i am so sorry," she wheezes, bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. "i overslept…"

the professor sighs and waves off her apology. "don't let it happen again," he says sternly, then continues his lecture.

you cast the girl a curious glance as she shuffles shamefully to an empty seat and starts unpacking her things. she's tall and lanky, with long two-toned hair tied in a haphazard ponytail and glasses that she has to push back up when they start to slip down her face. you make eye contact for a brief moment, then you resume paying attention to the professor without giving the encounter too much thought.

after classes end, you go back to your apartment to find the place superhero-less. the blankets are folded messily on the couch and there's a small tear in the cardboard that's covering the opening in your balcony, as if someone was in a hurry to leave.

you shrug off your bags with a sigh and go to dial up your landlord.

almost a week passes without further incident. you get your balcony door replaced so it's like nothing ever happened, and your life is just starting to get back into the usual swing of things when spider-woman shows up at your balcony again.

a thump is what wakes you up prematurely this time—it's literally 5am which is way too early for a saturday morning of all days—and you groggily stumble out of your bedroom, fearing the worst. you know it can't be a burglar since you live on the seventh floor, so there's only one person it could be…

luckily, the glass door is fully intact when you pull back the curtains to check. however, there is currently a superhero lying curled in a ball on your balcony. a very familiar superhero wearing a red-and-blue suit with a spider symbol on it.

"oh… oh, no," groans spider-woman when she hears you slide open the door. she weakly tries to drag herself to her feet, but she slumps back to the ground and you notice, with concern, the bleeding scratches all over her body. "oh man, i did it again… i'm so sorry, i'm gonna leave, just… wow you're so pretty… sorry, i should really leave—"

"no, it's okay!" you rush to reassure her, kneeling down next to her and offering your hand. "you can't go back out there like that, let me help you."

she winces, though whether it's from pain or embarrassment you can't tell. "i am so sorry," she repeats, and something about her voice seems oddly familiar, but you're too preoccupied with getting her inside to dwell on that.

the superhero keeps rambling as you half-drag, half-carry her to the couch. "i didn't mean to come here again, it's just i usually go to my friend's place when i'm injured but she's away and i got lost and mistook your apartment for mine the last time and i'm really sorry about breaking your door, it was just so dark and i had a really long day and i wasn't thinking straight and i probably gave you so much trouble—ow!"

"sorry!" you flinch and let go of her. "is your arm okay? what happened?"

"i… um." spider-woman chuckles nervously. "i kind of swung into a building? i didn't break any windows or anything! i might've broken my arm though."

you can't help but laugh, finding her awkward manner strangely endearing. "let me take a look, it might be dislocated or something."

it turns out it's just bruised, so you get her some ice and busy yourself fixing up her injuries. she repeatedly tries to convince you that she can do it herself in between a steady stream of more apologies, but she looks like she's one step away from passing out, so you insist on helping her.

"how'd you get all these cuts and scratches, anyway?" you ask, opening the bottle of antiseptic and setting out some gauze. "if you don't mind me asking, that is."

"no, it's fine! um…" spider-woman tilts her head, as if trying to remember. "the ones on my ribs are from some muggers with knives, kids really but there were four of them and only one of me so yeah… and the ones on my arms are from the black cat, you know, my nemesis? she was robbing a jewelry store and i managed to stop her but she still escaped and also got me a few times with her claws… oh, and there's this cut on my forehead that i got when i accidentally tripped and hit my head on a wall corner a few hours ago… but i can fix that on my own! you know, cause i'd have to take the mask off for that, and like, i can't reveal my secret identity 'cause dami—that's my guy in the chair—dami would kill me, haha…"

by the time she's done talking, you've finished cleaning and wrapping all of her wounds. there's just the cut on her forehead that's left, which is still bleeding despite her flippant assurances that it doesn't even hurt.

"that looks pretty bad," you note, kneeling down beside the couch and leaning in closer to inspect it. you gently press a paper towel to the bleeding area, using your other hand to brush a stray drop of blood from her cheek. "are you able to swing like that?"

there's a beat of silence. you realize that spider-woman has gone perfectly still, and also that your faces are extremely close together.

"sorry—" you shift away apologetically, worried that you made her uncomfortable. "you probably don't like it when people touch your suit."

"it's okay!" spider-woman's voice comes out as a strangled squawk, and she quickly coughs to clear her throat. "um. i was just. surprised."

"oh… well then." you stand up and glance awkwardly around your apartment, at a loss for what to do next. "so uh… how are you feeling?"

she springs up from the couch, startling you. "a lot better, thank you so much! i've caused you way too much trouble so… i should probably get going now, huh."

"are you okay to swing with your injuries and all?" you ask as she half-walks, half-slides to the balcony in this self-consciously exaggerated way. "they looked really painful when you arrived here."

"this is nothing," she responds with a casual wave of her hand, hoisting herself up onto the balcony railing in a quick graceful movement. "i heal pretty fast, so they barely even hurt anymore."

"that's good, then." you lean against the doorframe, somewhat saddened to see her go. strangely enough, you've actually been enjoying her company despite the fact that she quite literally crashed into your apartment and woke you up in the middle of the night.

spider-woman clears her throat. "uhh—maybe i'll see you around sometime," she says, a hopeful lilt to her voice.

the sun is starting to rise, peeking over the tops of the city skyline and bathing your apartment in soft golden light. spider-woman tilts her head at you, and you're almost completely certain that she's smiling under her mask.

"yeah," you respond, smiling back and raising a hand to shade your face from the sun. "i'll see you around sometime, superhero."

spider-woman gives you a jaunty little two-fingered salute, and then she's launching herself backwards off the railing with a carefree whoop. she disappears from your view for a few heart-stopping moments, but then a web shoots up and she's swinging away in between the skyscrapers until she's out of sight.

the next day, you open the curtains to find a small bouquet of red and blue flowers sitting on your balcony. they look wind-blown and slightly frayed, and the thought of a certain superhero swinging through the city with the little pot tucked carefully under her arm makes you grin despite yourself.

you get the feeling you won't be seeing the last of her any time soon.

"um, is it okay if i sit here?"

you glance up from the chemical equations on your laptop screen, meeting the eyes of a tall girl who's fidgeting nervously with the ends of her long hair. vaguely, you recognize her as that clumsy student who ran into class late last week.

"oh, sure," you say after a confused beat, shifting over slightly to make more room for her. something about her voice rings a bell, but you're not sure why it sounds so familiar. i've probably just heard her talking to her friends before, you rationalize.

"thanks!" she sits down and starts taking out her stuff, smiling hesitantly at you. "i'm kim yoohyeon, it's nice to meet you."

she has a pretty smile, you note while you introduce yourself. "it's nice to meet you too."

yoohyeon seems shy around you and doesn't talk much, but there's something captivating about her that you can't quite figure out exactly. she pays close attention to the professor during the lecture, though occasionally you'll look over to catch her stealing glances at you—she always blushes and quickly looks away, piquing your curiosity. hmmm.

after an extremely long and boring hour, the class is over and everyone starts packing up and filtering out of the lecture hall. you're packing up as well when your arm brushes against yoohyeon's by accident, and her cheeks flush bright red as she stares at you wide-eyed.

"i—" yoohyeon clears her throat. "bye!" she squeaks, and then she's shooting out the doors before you can even open your mouth to reply.

huh, how strange.

you're studying at your kitchen table one afternoon, curtains open to let some sun into your apartment, when you hear a tap-tap-tap on your balcony door and look up to see spider-woman crouched outside.

"i hope this isn't creepy," she rushes to say as soon as you slide open the door. "i was just, er, in the area and i thought i'd swing by and say hello… um, i brought you a croissant! as thanks for, y'know, everything."

"wow, thank you," you say in surprise, taking the paper bakery bag that she's hopefully holding out to you. the chocolate croissant inside is a little flattened, but you're warmed by the gesture regardless.

"no problem!" spider-woman jumps back up onto the balcony railing, sitting and swinging her legs like a little kid. "so, uh, yeah. just wanted to do that. i hope it wasn't weird. was it weird?"

you can't help but laugh. "you're cute," you say sincerely, the words slipping out against your will—flustered, you quickly change the subject before she can notice. "um, i'm not really busy right now so… you can come in and hang out for a bit, if you want."

"really?" she tentatively slides off the railing and trots inside after you like a lost puppy. "i feel bad for intruding—ooh, were you doing homework?"

"yeah, just studying for a test," you respond, sitting down and gesturing for her to pull out a chair as well. "do you know anything about chemistry?"

"i love it!" she exclaims, perking up and scooting closer to get a better look at your notes. "i first made my web fluid in my high school chemistry lab actually, it was… well, it was a learning experience. what are you studying?"

"acid-base reactions, most of it went over my head when my professor was lecturing about it…"

before you know it, two hours have gone by in a flash. spider-woman just has this bright and likable aura around her, and as she chatters about chemistry with infectious enthusiasm and tells you funny stories about her experiences as the city's resident superhero, you find that you already feel even more at ease with her than you are with your own roommate.

"we should do this again soon," you tell her when she has to leave, standing on your balcony surrounded by the bustling sounds of the city. "and be careful, alright? don't go swinging into any more buildings."

"i promise!" she assures you with a laugh, giving you a cheerful wave before she jumps from your balcony and swings off.

after that, spider-woman starts swinging by to see you a lot more often. you can tell she still feels guilty about accidentally breaking into your apartment, because she always comes with gifts of flowers or random pastries from the bakery down the street.

"you really don't need to go to all this trouble for me," you tell her, amused, when she presents you with an entire cake.

"it's no trouble at all!" she insists cheerfully, then gasps. "unless you don't like it. do you not like it?"

"no! i really appreciate it, i promise. it's just, you don't have to get me stuff if you don't want to."

"i want to!"

it's after a few weeks of the dorky superhero swinging by your apartment that you begin to realize you might be developing a bit of a crush on her. which is ridiculous, really, considering you have no idea what she looks like under the mask and you don't know her real name either. you don't know anything about her.

but you do know her, in a way. you know that she likes to pretend she's this cool badass superhero when in reality she's just a science nerd who gets excited about mixing chemicals. you know that she loves rescuing kittens from trees even though she's scared of cats, just because it's worth it to see the relief on its owner's face. you know that she sometimes swings by elementary schools during recess because a wave or a thumbs-up from spider-woman always makes the kids' entire day. you know that she's smart, she's kind, she's clumsy, she loves helping people more than anything.

you know her well enough for your heart to flutter every time you hear her tap on your balcony door, no matter the time or reason. she usually comes by during the day now, just to bring you gifts and hang out, but every once in a while she'll still crash on your balcony in the middle of the night with injuries from fighting crime.

this is one of those nights, apparently. a forceful knock on your front door is what wakes you up at 11pm one sunday night, and you groan as you're violently dragged out of your peaceful sleep.

"coming," you mumble half to yourself, throwing a random hoodie over your pajamas and hauling yourself to the door. "i have class tomorrow, who even—"

it's spider-woman, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "hi," she croaks. the knocking must have tired her out, because she topples into your arms as soon as you open the door.

"what…" you blink groggily for a few seconds, slowly processing the girl draped all over you. your half-asleep brain notes that she's very warm. it's like a nice blanket.

then you realize that your apartment door is still wide open, and the city's most famous superhero is just standing right there in the hall where anyone could see. "what are you doing here?" you yelp, pulling her inside and hurrying to close the door. "you're in your suit and everything! did anyone see you come up?"

"dunno," she mumbles, tucking her face into the crook of your neck. "i hit my head really hard. didn't think swinging was a good idea…"

you maneuver the superhero onto your couch, and she whines when you pull away to go get the medical kit. "hurts."

"looks like there isn't any bleeding," you say, kneeling down next to the couch and examining her head. "do you think it might be a concussion?"

"probably," she rasps, squishing herself further into the couch and looking like a burrito with the blanket you put over her. "should heal in a few hours."

you furrow your brow, still not used to what she calls her spidey-healing. "okay, get some sleep. you can stay here as long as you want, alright?"

"gotta wake up early," she says drowsily. "chemistry lab tomorrow…"

you blink. you… also have a chemistry lab tomorrow. "is that so?"

"yeah." you think her eyes are closed behind her mask, but then she shifts her head slightly and giggles softly to herself. "you're sooo pretty… i was so scared to talk to you in class."

wait, what?

spider-woman keeps rambling as she drifts off to sleep. "wanted to ask you out… but i was too shy without the mask. ran away, so embarrassing…"

wait, what?

"you're really cool," she mumbles. "and nice… and pretty… i like you a lot… want to take care of you like… like you take care of me…"

a pause. "you should go out with me," she says, then falls silent. tiny snores start coming out of her mask.

you slowly stand up, head spinning with all these new revelations.

huh.

you decide to go back to sleep.

it's around three in the morning when you wake up again to the sounds of someone shuffling around in the living room. you reluctantly slide out of your nice warm bed, slipping a hoodie on and heading out of your bedroom to find the source of the commotion.

"sorry, did i wake you?" spider-woman hovers uncertainly by the open door, dressed in civilian clothes—a hoodie and sweatpants—though she still has her spider-woman mask on, which looks so ridiculous that you have to smile at the sight.

"yeah… you're leaving already?" you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"yep," she says, awkwardly shifting her bundled-up superhero suit from hand to hand. "um. you should go back to bed, i know you have an early class tomorrow…" and so do i, she thinks to herself ruefully.

"let me see you off first," you insist through another yawn, covering your mouth with one oversized hoodie sleeve. "be careful on your way down, okay?"

"i will," she mumbles shyly. you can't see it, but she's blushing so hard at the gentleness in your voice and the soft way you're looking at her that she's scared her mask might burn right off her face. i've got to leave before i do anything stupid, she thinks, embarrassed. why is she so nice… and pretty…

the superhero is halfway down the hall when you remember all of last night's events and suddenly get an idea.

"yoohyeon," you call out, leaning against your doorframe.

she stops and turns around. "yeah?"

a pause.

you see the exact moment she realizes. "i—oh fuck—i mean, um—" she flounders, wildly looking around and laughing nervously. "wh-who's yoohyeon? i'm just your friendly neighbourhood spider-kim—i mean—"

you smile teasingly. "next time you ask me on a date, do it when you're not suffering from a concussion."

you don't know what her facial expression is like under her mask, but spider-woman—yoohyeon—looks like she's about to pass out, if the way she's clutching her suit in a death grip is any indication.

your smile softens. "i like you too, just so you know. a lot." you step back inside your apartment, but then you poke your head out again (yoohyeon is still standing there, frozen in shock) and add, "come back and ask me again tomorrow, okay? properly."

you close the door and take a deep breath. you feel as if your heart had stopped beating momentarily, but now it resumes racing excitedly in your chest.

hopefully i didn't just make a huge mistake.

meanwhile, yoohyeon is practically having heart palpitations outside. she spends a while just gaping like a fish at your closed door, but then she comes to her senses and practically breaks her neck sprinting to the elevator.

oh god, i need to look nice tomorrow!

the next morning, you're sitting at the kitchen table doing some studying before class when you hear the distinct noise of feet landing lightly on your balcony outside. there's the sounds of someone pacing for a while. then a light knock sounds on the glass door, making you turn around.

it's yoohyeon. not spider-woman, but kim yoohyeon from your 6:30am chemistry class. she's wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater, her long hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders and her dark brown eyes bravely staring into yours. in her hands is a small bouquet of red-and-blue flowers.

"did you swing up here?" you ask incredulously, tearing your eyes away from her and looking around. the sun is starting to rise, painting the sky in a soft rosy hue that matches the blush on yoohyeon's face. "did—"

"wait—please don't say anything," she interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "before i chicken out."

she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, meeting your gaze. "hi, i'm kim yoohyeon. um, i'm also spider-woman, and i… i'd really like to take you out on a date sometime."

she smiles hopefully at you. you step closer to her, taking the bouquet from her hands and leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek. yoohyeon's blush intensifies, and your heart soars.

Dani hadn’t even given her the chance to explain, determined to believe that the life they had built over the course of a year was over. For a while, Gigi had believed it too – confused about everything she had been feeling after the accident. But as the haze in her mind had cleared, and her injuries had healed, Gigi had realised that seeing Nat with their two children as the pick-up truck had hit her wasn’t a sign that she was still in love with her ex-wife. It was fear that life was about to be ripped from her, a life that revolved around the two tiny humans she was proud to call hers; and where there is Olive and Eli, there is Nat. That’s just the way it is.

But she doesn’t love Nat. She hasn’t loved Nat for a long time. Leaning on her as she was convalescing wasn’t out of need or want; it was protection.

Looking back, Gigi can see the imbalance in her relationship with Dani – she was always the strong one, the one Dani would lean on, sharing her words of wisdom whenever Dani felt her armour cracking. All of a sudden, Gigi was the one who needed someone to care for her and hold her as she pieced herself back together after the accident. She was scared to do that with Dani, scared to let the younger woman see her physical and mental scars, scared to let her know about the nightmares that filled what used to be sweet dreams. She didn’t know how to let Dani into a world where she was the vulnerable one.

And then suddenly it was too late, and Dani was throwing oranges at Nat’s car and ignoring her calls and packing up the things Gigi had left at her apartment, sending them back without even a note.

Gigi puts the key back onto her key chain and grabs her phone, scrolling through her messages until she finds Dani’s name. Her fingers hover for a moment, before she quickly writes ‘I miss you’ and hits send before she can change her mind.

She doesn’t expect a reply. After all, Dani has replied to any of the last twenty messages she has sent her. So she is taken aback when she sees three dots flashing back at her.

‘I miss you too.’

It is more than she has got over the last four months and feels like the door has been cracked open just a little bit.

‘Can we talk?’

Gigi holds her breath as she waits for Dani’s response.

‘I can’t. It’s too hard.’

‘Please? There’s so much I want to explain.’

Dani is slower with her reply this time.

‘I can’t listen to you tell me about you and Nat. I need to move on and you need to let me.’

Gigi sighs. One thing she knows about Dani is that once she has an idea in her head, it needs banging out of her.

‘There is no me and Nat. She’s my ex-wife and the other mother to my kids, that’s all. I know that telling you about what I saw when the car hit me was hard to hear, but I also told you I needed time to figure out what it meant – and I did. I want you to understand it too.’

Before Dani can reply, she sends another message.

‘I love you. I’m not ready to give up on us.’

She watches as the three dots flash, then sighs dramatically when they disappear. She tosses her phone down onto the table despondently and drops her head into her hands, massaging her temples to ease the headache that is growing. She only looks up when her phone starts to ring, a familiar face staring up at her. Her heart starts to beat faster and, with a deep breath, she hits the green button.

once the rolling credits of avengers endgame had ended with the soft sound of a hammer smashing on another piece of metal signifying tony stark making his first ever suit, you shift your head to the other shoulder while you mindlessly shut off the tv in the living room. 

your right arm is pinned down by dahyun, who was fast sleep with her head on your shoulder. she insisted that you and her have a movie night together instead of going out, and she was right considering the small pitter patter sounds of the raindrops hitting the window in the dimmed household calling for the much needed bedtime. what made this more funnier was how dahyun said that she’d stay up for the entirety of the movie—only to doze off before the last twenty or so minutes towards the end. 

before your mind could surrender at the thought of just sleeping on the couch for the night, not that you had a problem with that anyway, it would be better to just use the remaining energy left to just breeze past the hallway and into the bedroom, so lightly stretch all of your muscles and body parts while sitting, letting out a soft cough that causes dahyun to cling onto your arm tightly.

“hey…” you whisper over her head, “want me to carry you?” 

dahyun lets out a soft hum through her oversized hoodie as your other hand finds hers clinging to your shirt, you can’t help but chuckle at the way she’s acting while you brush the side of her hair, scratching her scalp that makes dahyun melt more into the fabric. 

“okay, let me get up at least beb.” 

managing to get up and move your arm a little bit from its captivity, you turn around to face dahyun who was still sitting down, now curled up into a small ball into the couch, enveloping her with your upper body as your arms hook around her back and legs, lifting her up her arms find your neck—and she’s a little more awake now than just a few moments ago. 

“we’re a little more awake now huh?” you say as dahyun leans her head in to give you a kiss on the cheek, one of her many ways of appreciation since acts of service was your main love language while dahyun’s was physical touch. (gift giving was her first one technically)

the dark corridor was filled with the soft murmurs of dahyun singing somewhat of a song as you make it past the bedroom door, moving closer to the bed before setting her down gently. dahyun then tries to reach for the covers, but you stop her, waving a finger while you went ahead and did it for her yourself, patting down the comforter once she was all snuggled up. 

you were about to go to the bathroom to wash up, only for your hand to be caught by hers stopping you from leaving. 

“you okay?” you ask her, turning your body before sitting down on the bed closer to her. 

dahyun lets the silence fall for just a moment before answering, “yeah. i’m okay.” 

“i was just gonna wash up before coming back, do you need anything?” 

“well…” dahyun mutters out with a pouty look on her face, “i just want you beside me, that’s all.” 

your head dips down from the answer before softly smiling at her, it was late anyway and you were just keeping yourself away from the comfortable bed that was in front of you. washing up can come later in the morning—it was already midnight and the rain falling made it the perfect background noise to fall asleep instantly. 

“okay,” you say while cupping dahyun’s cheek, looking at her in the eyes, entranced by the galaxy that lies behind those set of dark irises. “i’m tired anyway.” 

a shifting movement fills the bed, and you’re spooning dahyun under the covers. 

the feeling is so safe for the both of you, the radiating warmth encapsulating with the comforter cuddling away to your heart's content as your chin fins the crook of dahyun’s neck, planting a soft kiss alongside the line of her throat while your arms link around her waist, pulling her closer to you. 

tiredness didn’t always guarantee an instant slumber. 

you’re trying to fall asleep, eyes wide open as you let your mind ponder in the vast space of darkness, the only lightsource let alone sound is the faint whirr of the humidifier on the small seat next to the nightstand, the scent of apple cedarwood filling the small space on dahyun’s side of the bed for the next few minutes. 

though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered. 

moving your body under the sheets would only keep you up, and you didn’t know if dahyun was already fast asleep like earlier, so you don’t bother to ask or move, you’re just staying still as a log. 

luckily, dahyun also couldn’t fall asleep right away, so you were glad that you weren’t the only one. she turns her body around to face you, laying on her side while your hands shift lower to the small of her back, meeting her hips. her hands creep up to the front of her body, fiddling with the loose cotton of your shirt while your chin nicks a little bit of her forehead. 

“can’t sleep?” you say quietly enough for her to hear, and dahyun looks up. 

“yeah, i don’t know why.” 

“you managed to stay up for the majority of the movie only to doze off right at the end.” you laugh while dahyun taps your chest. 

“it’s your fault for picking a three hour long movie in the first place!” 

“who was the one who didn’t want to go out tonight?” you ask in a doubled down effort.

dahyun lets out a sound that is almost an ‘i’, but closes her parted lips in defeat knowing that you won the exchange of banter. 

a chuckle leaves your nostrils as you pull dahyun more closely, pressing your lips to her forehead with your hands on her cheeks, the meaningfulness behind it bringing a softer side of you to the front stage. 

“i love this.” dahyun mutters out, giddily, smiling between your fingers, “how could you be so good at love?” 

you’re staring at her, eyes darting in competition with hers, studying the concaves of her face and lips, trying to find the next words to suffice an answer—nothing comes to mind.

you don’t need words to tell how you feel about someone. especially with dahyun. 

a first action was all that was needed when you lean forward. your lips finally meet dahyun’s, the kiss deepening as she presses her face deeper against yours, the rush of breaths clashing against the open air. its like succumbing to an open wound, the way her lips just mesh perfectly together with yours, her fingers slide on the nape of your neck, and you’re trying to decide whether to pull away or not. 

you don’t want to, but for a slight second you do—moving your body underneath the comforter, taking the high ground hovering on top of dahyun, staring at her. 

her eyes don’t lie, her cheeks are rosy pink through the hindering light, her lips bruised, hair tousled a bit, and she’s breathing raggedly. 

“baby,” you mumble out, “is there—” 

“just kiss me.” 

without thinking twice, you go back for more. indulging in the touches like you have before, but not like this. fighting with your lips—biting, gnawing, pulling the other till it gets swollen or bruised, it’s igniting a fire from within, and it’s the same for dahyun.

the real work truly begins when you shift to her jaw and cheeks, your hands join in on the fun by slipping underneath her hoodie, the unreal slim waist that dahyun possessed now being held by your fingertips as you continued to take your time leaving marks across the whole board. 

her hands are buried in your hair as she seems to have a good read on your thoughts at this moment, parting her lips again for you. when you meet her level again, there’s a swipe of the tongue, first in your mouth, and a trade off for hers. she’s softly humming, the sound of her filling your mouth while you reach her breasts from underneath, fondling with them as you leave another trail of kisses against her neck. 

“god.” dahyun gasps out, and you silence her with your mouth but with a little less sense of urgency than earlier. each exchange of kisses being softer, slower. you’re taking your time with your lover as the neediness creeps out and away in exchange for sleepiness. 

a final smack of the lips before resting your forehead on top of hers for a brief moment, planting one more kiss on her cheek before laying down beside dahyun again, wrapping arms and legs—not wanting any sudden movements from this point on while sleeping. 

“goodnight dub,” you mumble before kissing the top of her head, and she murmurs out another sound against your shirt before drifting off to sleep finally. 

or so you thought. 

a cloudy, rainy morning greets the room through the curtains, and dahyun is the first one to wake up. 

there’s been a tousle in the sheets, but somehow her body is still next to yours surprisingly with your arms still linked around her—all arms and legs against each other. 

she shifts over a little closer to your body, her arm across your waist, but the surface is a little bit peculiar to her feeling when her eyes flutter open to notice that the shirt that was on you from the night prior was off. what makes this all the more puzzling, was that her hoodie was off too, exposing her whole chest as well. 

dahyun looks down at the small hint of marks that were on her neck and a little bit of her collarbone. she doesn’t remember how those got there in the first place and her curiosity got the better of her when she peeped under the covers; she was in her underwear, a more astute observation at that. 

her mind lazes at the thought, and she just nestles into the upper portion of your chest, lightly rubbing the lines of your ribs like playing on a harp. 

eventually, she ultimately decides to sit up from your arching arm, letting it fall on her hip while she rubs her eyes to get rid of the lingering sleepiness and the small crusty bits that nestle between the corner of your eyes. 

you let out a monotone sound into the pillow next to dahyun as she pats your forearm as an acknowledgement, giggling while she leans over to your smushed face in the cushions, showering you with light kisses to get you going. 

“dub,” you mutter into the fabric as the ends of her hair tickle the cuff of your ear. “don’t even think about getting up from bed…” 

“i wasn’t!" she yells lightly. "besides, i’m hungry anyway.” 

“mmmmmmmmmmm.” is the only sound that’s heard while dahyun flips her hair to the otherside, hand slithering underneath the covers before the pads of her fingertips dance away before lightly pinching your side, getting you even more awake now. 

“hey! what was that for?!” you gasp out, lifting the upper half of your body from underneath the mountain of your thick blanket with one eye open, groaning dramatically before shoving your face more into the pillow. 

dahyun can’t help but laugh at your mini temper tantrum, shaking your head into the pillow, and hitting the bed with your fists, she also sees the heels also kick up in retaliation as well. 

she then gets on top of your back, placing more light-hearted kisses from behind your ear and down to your neck—dahyun’s favorite sensitive spots of your body whenever you two got more sunk in more private settings—this was no different. 

you then roll her off your back, sitting up slightly while she couldn’t help herself to kiss you just a bit more, putting herself over you as your hand seamlessly finds the lower part of her jaw, thumb resting on her cheek. the feeling of it is so tender, and the sound of the rain hitting the window really sets the atmosphere altogether. 

“did you take off my hoodie in the middle of the night?” she asks with her lips still stuck on yours. 

“yeah, it got a little stuffy.” you reply, landing another kiss to her bottom lip, pulling on it slightly while you look up at her with puppy dog eyes. “i might have done a little bit more than that actually.” 

“i figured.” dahyun says, pulling away even more, looking down at the small hints of marks across her neck and chest. “but i’m not complaining though.” 

you’re looking at her lips, then the marks you mindlessly made while you slid off your shirt and her hoodie at some point during the middle of the night, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself that time. now you’re biting your lip at her appearance. her beautiful, natural long black hair, bare face that looks even more alluring minus all the makeup (very minimally), her milky white skin with the hints of red marks all over, you want to do more damage—god you’ll pretty much will. 

so you sit up, lips back on hers in record time, the kiss deepening by the second. her hands are moving in a frenzy, saliva being slid from both of your tongues, hearing the heavenly sounds come through in vibrations. your hand is through her hair, while the other is around her snatched waist. 

the degree of elevation is then changed. you’re on top of her, and she’s below you. pulling away slightly as dahyun looks at you with longing eyes, the slight heaving from her chest, and she’s colored in a brilliant shade of pink—all for you. behind these walls and closed doors, where no one else sees, it’s perfect really. 

“i think i have some unfinished business for you… the coffee can wait.” you say with a grin, the next thing dahyun sees is you lowering back, and she doesn’t even feel her underwear slip off from her body but your hands sliding up her legs to her hips. 

she doesn’t fight the sounds coming out of her with the back of her hand. 

the lighter of the stove clicks on the other end while you’re moving the pan back and forth with a set of scrambled eggs, humming along to a faint jazz song on your phone set to the left of you on the countertop. 

you’re swaying slightly to the music when a pair of arms coat your waist, the cloth of your shirt getting rumpled underneath. dahyun’s head is laid on your back, eyes closed but with a beaming happy smile, all giddy and everything—a clear indication that you definitely gave her some of that morning magic just ten minutes ago. 

“go ahead and sit down, dub,” you say, nicking your head back slightly. “i’m almost done here.” 

she can only hum in response, kissing your back before she gingerly walks to the other end of the small kitchen island, still eepy and more than relaxed. you turn off the stove with the plate of scrambled eggs showered with some garlic salt and scallions, the other small plate in your hand with a stack of toast while you slide it over across. 

feeding her a spoonful of scrambled egg while you’re munching through a slice of toast, dahyun’s face melts from the taste and cooking that you were so skilled at. you can’t help fall in love a little more at the sight of her being cozy and homey on days like these. 

“it’s so cute when you can’t talk after we have sex.” you say out of nowhere, the last bite of egg passing your throat with ease. dahyun looks at you with deadlocked eyes, before she lightly punches you in the shoulder, acting all hurt while laughing. “i’m kidding! it’s still funny though.” 

“i’m still waiting for my coffee.” she says, eyeing over the espresso machine that’s unplugged, with the two capsules for you and her both. “i’m leaving a one star review on yelp and not giving you a tip.” 

“dahyun!” 

she recognizes your voice immediately, though it’s muffled by the low whirr of your bmw roadster. she stops in place, and as she turns, you pull up next to her, your arm resting alongside the driver’s side door. her eyes meet yours, and dahyun’s heart pumps harder in her chest. 

“y/n. hey.” dahyun’s voice sounds breathless through her own ears. 

your hair is in a messy knot, and you’re wearing some old, ripped band tee that dahyun doesn’t even recognize. with your eyes on her, dahyun’s pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan, looking down and feeling disheveled, suddenly self-conscious of the off-white bustier dress and white sneakers she put on this morning. 

“need a ride?” you ask and nick your head towards the vacant passenger seat. 

“sure.” dahyun responds. she darts across the front of your car, the dress fluttering across the bottoms of her thighs. once she gets in and buckles herself into the seat, you take off down the road, the car zipping along as it hits the suburban speed limit. 

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. a few weeks no? whatcha been up to?” you start, eyes flicking over to her and back to the rear view mirror. 

“oh, um….just…stuff with school, that’s all. it has been busy lately these past few weeks.” dahyun answers, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear and casts a sideways glance over to you, catching the angle of your jaw. she looks away when she feels the squeeze in her chest again and decides that it’s safer to focus on the contouring ridges of her hands and fingers. 

“right…you’re probably busy with AP classes, being captain of the tennis team, and the extracurriculars that you’re knee deep in,” you respond, half teasing, half exasperated, your mouth pulled into a grin. 

a blush spreads across dahyun’s cheeks because it’s true that she’s busy with all those things, and she feels a bit embarrassed over how uncool it sounds coming from your mouth, and she’s not sure how you even know any of that about her in the first place. 

the last time that dahyun ever spoke to you was short, and it was just you at the front door of her house delivering something from your mom to hers. all of the interactions were brief because dahyun finds herself too nervous or embarrassed to keep up a conversation with you after the summer between freshman and somphomre when you’d gone away for basketball camp and came back with a huge growth spurt, toned all over, and riddled with rumors that you scored big with an older girl. 

dahyun doesn’t want to blame the distance between you and her entirely on your good looks, though. even before that same summer, the friendship between you two had been growing apart. since the start of high school, she was pulled away from the daily meetings with you and chaeyoung because she wanted to fit in and spend more time with her other female friends. 

you, on the other hand, kept getting into all kinds of trouble that she would hear about from others, but you’d switch to a different topic to avoid speaking about it whenever dahyun asked. 

the hours spent together daily turned into interspersed weekend meetings and quick greetings, eventually to small waves passing classes. you were probably in and out of relationships with other girls more than actual conversations with dahyun over the past two years. 

“sorry,” dahyun apologies, glancing at you and then back at her hands, still unsure of what else to say. she’s uncoformtably aware of her every nerve ending right now, the way your leather seats are sticking to the backs of her knees, the sound of her exhalations, and the strands of hair that she can’t keep out of her face. 

the car turns a corner as you let out a light chuckle at the sudden apology. “i’m just teasing you dubu, don’t worry.” 

“oh. sorry.” she inwardly cringes at the way her voice squeaks. she’s trying to get more words out of the mouth, but her brain can’t come up with any, and she’s trying to remember what in the world you and her used to talk about all way when you were kids. 

“well, my life has been great too, thanks for asking.” your tone is sarcastic, though still smiling. “don’t apologize again.” you add in, right as dahyun’s mouth starts to form another ‘S’ sound. she presses her lips together and peaks over at you again to see you already looking back at her. 

your eyes meet hers for one quiet moment. then an easy laughter breaks through the awkward space, and dahyun’s shaking her head, feeling silly and ridiculous for being so weird. 

when the laughs die down, dahyun feels herself smiling. “you don’t need to remind me how boring my life is, okay? what’s been going on with you?” she ask, but she already knows. 

you’ve started seeing some pretty sophomore girl from the year below after breaking up with your previous girlfriend last month. you still play basketball in the park across from the cul de sac regularly at night or on the weekends, but you hang out with jeongyeon and her little posse nearly every day after school. 

quite the troublemaker you were taking up vaping for the past few months, and when dahyun goes to the restroom during fourth period, she sees you standing behind the portables near the fences where the security guards doesn’t check, a small pod is in your mouth with same group of girls when she knows that you have a history class and not socializing time. 

“it’s been the same for me, nothing too significant to note really.” you reply, coming to a stop at an intersection, and you’re nearly there to the parking lot. dahyun hums in agreement as she watches the other students from their school cross the street. 

“i know that it’s prom season so uh…are you going this year?” you ask, eyes trained on the road as the light in front of them turns green. dahyun lets out a light giggle through her nose. 

“y/n, that’s two months away. and no one’s gonna ask me anyway, so i don’t really have a valid reason to go. weren’t you gonna ask…sullyoon?” dahyun wonders out lod, remembering the name of the sophomore girl. 

your head snaps over to her and your expression is rather surprising, “why do you think i’d ask sullyoon?” 

“um…” dahyun bites the inner portion of her lip, wondering if she accidentally exposed too much what she’s noticed and heard about you. your love life was a regular let alone a hot topic of gossip in all social circles throughout the school, but she’s never heard anything about it directly from you. “aren’t you guys, like, dating now?” 

“that’s what people are saying?” your brows scrunch together. you’re pulling into the parking lot, but it’s still about ten minutes before the first bell rings. “i’m not dating sullyoon. like, not at all. i’m not dating anyone right now, actually.” 

“i didn’t mean to assume. i just heard…” 

“she confessed to me last week, and i turned her down.” 

“oh.” 

dahyun feels an uneasy feeling in her stomach, the slurry of guilt and cringe at the words she just spoke. another apology starts bubbling up out of her throat again when you say–

“people are stupid sometimes, but not you. i mean. don’t listen to what they say.” you sigh while shifting the gear into park, and dahyun nods, gathering her bag into her lap and reaching for the door handle. 

“thanks for the ride, y/n,” she replies softly. the door swings open, and just as she’s about to step out of the car, she hears you again.

“wait! dahyun…we should hang out more. i mean like, if you want of course. it’s been a while and i don’t want to sound off as weird, but yeah that’s all.” your hands are on the steering wheel, and your face is rather…open and inviting. 

“sure! yeah, okay. i’d like that actually.” dahyun smiles, nodding at you. “i’ll see you around then?” 

“i’ll text you!” you yell out after when she steps out and closes the car door. 

it’s fourth period, and you text her. it comes off as a surprise, and dahyun half thought you were joking when you suggested hanging out with her again. you were just asking if she was free today, and she is, but she takes ten minutes just to breath before replying to you. 

why would you suddenly want to hang out now? what are they going to do? what’s there to talk about? should they invite chaeyoung? tzuyu? suzy?!

in the background of her thoughts, she can hear ms. jihyo’s spirited lecture in biology, but even the teacher’s enthusiasm can’t pull her out of her own head right now. 

you hadn’t mentioned chaeyoung this morning, and now when she thinks about it, she can’t remember the last time the three of them hung out together despite the fact that she sees chaeyoung in class everyday, so she replies. 

dahyun: 

okay, should we invite chaeyoung? 

your response buzzes her phone instantly after her message. 

y/n: 

nah, she’s probably busy with mina 

confusion is struck through her. mina…myoui? the new transfer student from misamo academy? what could chaeyoung possibly be doing with her? dahyun shakes her head free of the disjointed idea and decides to ask you about it later. she tilts her head down to look under the desk to type out another response. 

dahyun: 

so what do you wanna do later? 

y/n: 

meet me at my car after school. 

momo’s knee knocks into dahyun’s from under the table, and she looks up over to her, surprised. just as she looksup, ms. jihyo starts over to their side of the room. 

“miss kim, did you hear what i asked?” the teacher looks at her over the sea of heads sitting down. “can you define the three type of cell transportation for me?” 

“ah…” dahyun’s eyes go wide with the realization that she hadn’t been listening at all to today’s lecture. 

“simple diffusion, facilitated diffusion, and active transport, ms. jihyo,” momo responds in her place. 

ms. jihyo glances between momo and dahyun, both red in the face for different reasons. “very good, miss kim.” 

when the teacher continues on with the lecture, dahyun shoots a grateful look over to momo and mouths thank you, which she responds to by look away and rubbing the back of her neck. 

at the end of the school day, dahyun stands next to the well waxed coating of your passenger door with her school binder wrapped tightly to her chest for no good reason other than to have something to do with her hands. her last class is near the exit, so she watches students spill from the main and side doors of the building. 

it’s just you, she repeats to herself. the same you she used to hold hands with on their walk to school in the first grade. the same you she used to stick band-aids on after you came back from crapped and bloody. the same you who played dress-up barbie with her before she had any other friends. the same you who’s lived down the street from her for over a decade. 

but finally, when she sees you push past the exit doors, backpack hung over one shoulder and tangled up in a group of people who seem much cooler and more popular than she is, she gulps down the memories of who you were before. 

she sees you notice her, and gives a simple wave of the hand, gripping your backpack before turning back to say goodbye to your friends. dahyun holds her binder tighter to her chest as she watches you. nothing about the girl 20 feet in front of her feels familiar, from your messy bun to the somewhat built frame that has everyone batting eyes at you in your direction. 

dahyun’s a little bit in her head staring at you for a little longer than she initially expected, but she couldn’t help herself about it so she keeps staring. 

you extract yourself from the group with fist bumps and handshakes. your smile is bright as you walk up to dahyun, pulling her into a full-bodied hug that she can only half reciprocate with the binder in her arms. the press of your torso was enough to intoxicate her, the warmth seeping through her skin. her face was also right at the crook of your neck, and you smell like the ocean and coconuts. 

when you pull away, dahyun notices you glance over your shoulder where the crowd of people are, but your shoulder also obscures her view of what exactly you’re looking at.

“ready to go?” you ask, stepping forward to open the door into the passenger seat. 

“yep.” she nods and gets in.

you pull up at an ice cream shop about five minutes later, and dahyun can’t control the grin that breaks across her face. 

‘suga’s’ ice cream parlor? when was the last time we came here together? she says, reminiscing over the white and pistachio colored swirls and blue snowflakes that were pasted on the storefront window. 

the store was down a couple blocks from where they live, and it hasn’t changed at all in the years since your moms used to walk them down there together on a hot summer afternoon. 

you smile back at dahyun, the canines of your teeth catching on your lower lip, “like i said, we haven’t seen each other in a while.” 

the both of you make your way into the store and stand in front of the glass screen with all of the specialty ice cream flavors laid out in freezer tubs before them. 

“are you gonna try anything new? i already know what i’m getting.” you say, glancing down at her. standing side-by side with you reminds of how tall you were now. dahyun remembers when your head would barely reach the bottom of the glass, and you would have to tip-toe in order to gaze at the rainbow of ice cream flavors. 

“i think i’m just gonna get my usual,” dahyun replies as the worker in a blue apron walks over to them. 

“what can i get started for you guys?” the girl behind the counter asks. 

“i’ll have a double scoop of chocolate on a waffle cone, and she’ll get a single scoop of raspberry please and thank you.” you shoot the worker a smile as she nods while getting the orders ready, 

you pay for dahyun’s ice cream as well, deciding to sit at one of the tables outside to enjoy the warm, spring air. already licking your way down the dessert, you start biting the cone with your teeth, the chocolate dripping over your hands and bits of the solid parts still smeared a bit on your mouth.

dahyun giggles on to the spoon pressed to her tongue and grabs a napkin from the stack on the table and hands it to you. 

“how the heck do you still eat ice cream the same way at 7 and 17?” she asks, smiling, and you grab the napkin from her, crumpling it up in your fist. 

“it’s better if you eat it my way,” you respond, taking a couple more bites into your waffle cone. you eye the trash can next to you two, tossing the napkin while eating seamlessly. to be fair, you were the basketball team’s best shooter. 

you and dahyun sit there at the table, not speaking but eating quietly, letting the sun hit the concrete pathway into dark a bright tone. when finished with the ice cream, dahyun throws her trash in the can next to you away. when she came back to sit down across from you on the table, you had your arms folded across your chest with your face appearing pensive. 

“so dahyun, i’ve been meaning to ask,” you start of saying, tilting your head off to the side while dahyun looks at you with wide eyes, wondering what you were going to ask of her as she hums with a tug at the corner of her lip. 

“why aren’t we friends anymore?” you keep starting ahead as you say this. the question startles her as much as the stoic tone does, and then there’s the pang that shoots throughout dahyun’s body at the implication that you don’t categorize her as your friend. 

“what do you mean? of course we’re still friends, y/n.” she responds, though she’s unsure of the status either. 

“we’re not friends like we used to be.” 

dahyun takes a breath and tries to decide what you were expecting her to say. it’s true that you and her aren’t friends like before, but isn’t it obvious as to why you’re not? it’s different now. you’ve grown from being kids. there’s no time to run around on wacky adventures or watch tv in your living room together like they used to.

“we just…don’t hang out as much. that’s all.” dahyun shrugs and tries to put on her most convincing smile to reassure you, but the turn of your gaze cuts right through her act. 

“i wanna hang out with you more.” you state, the tone coming as gentle, but it feels more of a command. dahyun thinks if you did want to start running around doing crazy shit or just stay inside all day then she would do that, too, because you wanted it. 

“okay.” 

the next few weeks pass by and those hangouts happen more and more often. at first, dahyun is unsure of how they’ll do it, if you wanted to get ice cream and stare at an empty parking lot with passing traffic for an hour then it’ll definitely make her feel awkward about it, every time. 

but it wasn’t like that. you tell dahyun that you’ll take her to school the next day and drop you off, and the day after that. with those rides, you and dahyun talk about anything; from classes, to the weather, even nothing. you send texts throughout the day to see what she’s up to or ask if she’s free after school. on most occasions, dahyun would have tennis practice or after school meetings, but on some of those days, you wait for her. 

in those off days that dahyun has from practice or meetings, you chill at the park together. dahyun reads some of her class notes and textbooks while you nap or look at the clouds in the sky rambling about how basketball practice was boring to some extent. either that or she would come over to your house and your mom would bake her favorite snickerdoodle cookies. dahyun would ask to watch scary movies together bcause despite how cute and sweet she seems on the outside, she’s actually a tough girl that apparently has no fear whatsoever. 

(you pretend to not be affected, but dahyun catches you gasping at the scares while she pretends to not notice.) 

throughout all of those days spent together, dahyun never mentions chaeyoung despite the little inkling of guilt she feels in her gut over excluding their old friend. she’s not sure why, but she knows that it would be different if chaeyoung was with them, and she becomes strangely possessive about the time she gets to be with you. 

you don’t actually see each other much during school because your schedule is different than dahyun’s, and there’s no circle of friends that overlap each other between the two of you, but in those moments between classes when they can catch a quick glimpse, you always give the same smile and trademark wave with a hand raised in the distance. 

it hadn’t been that long, but there were days where you tell dahyun that you’d be hanging out with your other friends instead, and she knows it shouldn’t gnaw at her insides so much knowing that you’ll be around that circle of friends that were clearly a bad influence on you. 

but it does, and on those days where you’re not with her, dahyun uses all of that mental energy to focus on her schoolwork she had written in her planner. once finished with everything she had planned in advance, she realizes that it was a mistake when there was nothing else to occupy her mind but you. 

dahyun’s passing through the hallway to one of her last classes when you told her that you won’t be waiting for her after she hears her name bounce off the lockers. 

“y/n’s been hanging out with that one girl lately.” 

at the mention of you, dahyun slows her steps to get a better ear on the two girls’ conversion. she doesn’t know them personally, but they were probably from jeongyeon’s group that you usually hang out at school. 

“da-ha? dahun? dun? or whatever her name is right?” 

“yea. the other day, elozin told me that she saw them ice cream together at her work, and she paid for her.” one of the girls snorts and waves her hand like she’s brushing off what her friend just said. 

“it’s whatever. i bet she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else.” 

dahyun’s face heats up at the idea of you playing her like the other rumors she’s heard of you before. it was a sinking feeling in her heart and stomach, and she pushes past them to rush down the hall. even in the distance, their hushed voices are still reverberating in her ears. 

“shit, that was her. you think she heard us?” 

dahyun’s backpack clunks on the floor, dropping into her seat. she can feel wetness swelling in her eyes, but she squints to keep the tears from falling. the chair next to her scrapes across the floor as tzuyu arrives at her seat, and dahyun turns away from her.” 

“eonnie! you would not believe the lunch i had today. my mom forgot that she put the bread in the fridge and it was stale. i could’ve sworn my teeth were cracking when i bit through my sandwich earlier.” 

dahyun hums a response, still turned away from her friend, pretending to shuffle through her backpack. when she blinks, a few drops land at the side of her feet, and she’s quick to wipe her eyes before straightening up in her eat. 

“there was something else i wanted to tell you, but i’m blanking out now…” tzuyu continues, scratching behind her ear. 

dahyun continues to avoid looking directly at tzuyu, knowing that she’d be instantly worried if she saw her crying. instead, she lets a few steadying breaths calm her while she focuses on writing her name over and over again. 

-dahyun

dahyun 

d a h y u n 

da-ha 

she scribbles over the stupid name on her notebook. da-ha? really?! she shakes her head at the unreal attempt to pronounce her name in her head. 

the late bell rings soon after, and all the other students find their seats, chatting amongst one another while the teacher is setting up to start class. dahyun looks up to see momo and chaeyoung sitting in the front row, and they turn back to give her and tzuyu a wave, which the pair returns. 

“hey, will you come to my track meet today after school?” tzuyu leans over and gives dahyun a pouty look. “momo and chaeyoung are coming to support me.” 

dahyun looks over and really smiles then, “of course i’ll go tzuyu. i wouldn't miss it.” 

tzuyu beams back at her, and the teacher starts calling for their attention. dahyun shakes her head, clearing her thoughts of anything that doesn’t have to do with mathematics or excitement for tzuyu’s track meet. 

at the end of class, tzuyu waves goodbye to dahyun and rushes to the locker rooms to get changed and ready. she the approaches momo and chaeyoung, still sitting in their seats and chatting animdately about how to answer the challenge question the teacher posted for their homework as extra credit.

“dahyun!” chaeyoung exclaims when she sees her. “what did you get for the problem today?” 

she giggles and looks over to momo, who’s probably red in the face the way she’s covering her face with  fingers in a V for her eyes to get a better view after arguing with chaeyoung about whose answer is correct. 

“chae, you know i don’t do the challenge problems,” dahyun replies, and she gives her a soft look when she pouts back at her. “you guys are going to the track meet today, right?” can we go together?” 

they agree to go with her, and she waits for them to pack up their stuff. they all walk out of the building and out toward the field. the sun is beating down on them today, and it’s a reminder that their few weeks of the enjoyable spring is about to transition into summer and that the middle of the semester is transitioning to the end of the year when all the big events in the school calendar are coming up. 

“dahyun, are you going to prom this year?” momo asks. now it’s just over a month away, the entire student population is buzzing with conversations and whisper about the dance as well as who’s going to ask who. 

“i don’t think anyone’s gonna ask me, so probably not,” dahyun responds nonchalantly. 

momo and chaeyoung exchange a look, and she wonders vaguely whether momo and chaeyoung will be going to prom this year or if they’re planning on asking anyone. despite that, her and momo have half their classes together and are involved in all the same extracurricular activities; she's never seen her look too interested in other girls.

maybe momo and chaeyoung could take each other to prom. that would be cute, dahyun thinks. 

“you never know, dahyun. maybe someone will surprise you,” chaeyoung says, smiling, uncharacteristically picking on her. she laughs in response, shaking her head. 

mostly, dahyun doesn’t feel too bad about the prospect of not going to prom. she imagines that she’d be the type of girl who sits at the table watching all her friends dance like in the movies. and then at the end, her friends pull her to the dance floor, and she has a fun time, regardless of not having a date. but she still has next year for that scene to play out, anyway. 

dahyun isn’t also sure whether sana or tzuyu will be going this yea, though she can’t imagine that sana would be lacking in promposals. tzuyu might go just to eat, drink, and dance, always wanting to have fun. without her permission, her mind conjures up an image of you, hair slicked back and in a pretty dress or suit depending on your taste, placing a pretty flower corsage on some ridiculously gorgeous girl who isn’t her. 

the trio comes up onto the bleachers and file into a row somewhere in the middle. dahyun sits in between momo and chaeyoung, listening passively as the two girls talk back and forth about which runners they think will win awards or set new record times for their school. the meet is pretty small and not glamorous, just between their school, tdoong high, and misamo academy. the campuses are a short drive apart, so students from either school are filing into the light crowd while the runners are doing their warmups on the track. 

after walking all the way to the field in the afternoon heat, she can feel the start of sweat pooling under her arms, so she pulls off her sweater to reveal her cami underneath and lays it down on her lap and over her skirt. 

“how do you think mina’s gonna hold up against her old friends, chaeyoung?” momo asks with a smirk.

immediately, chaeyoung’s face heats up, and she presses her lips together, eyes directed toward a raven haired figure in the distance. “she’s been training really hard, so i’m sure she’ll be fine.” 

dahyun’s head tilts. she remembers back a few weeks ago when you mentioned that chaeyoung would be too busy with mina to spend time with them, but she had forgotten to ask for more details. 

“is there something going on between you and mina, chaeyoung?” dahyun chimes in. 

“huh? me and mina?” chaeyoung’s face flames up into a bright red, and dahyun wonders how much of it is from the heat of the sun. 

at her other side, she hears momo snicker. “oh, it’s nothing, dahyun. chaeyoung just ‘tutors’ mina every tuesday and wednesday after school,” she says, wagging his brows and making air quotations around the word ‘tutor’ as she does so. 

chaeyoung groans and covers her face in her hands, mumbling at momo to be quiet and mind her own business. dahyun smiles at how cute her friend’s acting, even if she can’t imagine how sweet, girl-band grunge chaeyoung would be with someone as quiet and alluring as myoui mina.

“you guys know that nayeon is competing in a sprint too?” dahyun asks momo, hoping to spare chaeyoung any more embarrassment. momo nods excitedly, pointing her finger over to where nayeon and tzuyu are standing, jumping up and down looking like they’re giving each other pep talks.

across the field, a whistle is blown to get everyone’s attention as the first event is about to start. at the same time, dahyun’s phone dings in her lap, ahd her heart skips a beat, hopeful. 

y/n: 

i see you. 

dahyun’s head whips around, searching the crowd for you face. when she spots you across the bleachers, you’re waving at her. her entire body vibrates as she puts up a hand to wave back at you. she sees you type something on your phone with your other hand and hers dings again.

y/n:

come sit with me. 

dahyun’s sure that her face is as bright as chaeyoung’s a few minutes agaon when she reads your words and looks back at you. when she notices that you’re sitting in your usual group of friends, she sees the two girls from earlier back in the hallway with you too. she makes eye contact with you again and does an exaggerated motion of shaking her head.

dahyun: 

i’m scared of your friends

y/n: 

LOL 

she sees you get up, say a word to your group, and start in her direction. the girls look shocked as they watch you walking away. despite that the runners are lining up at the starting line now, most of the crowd’s eyes were on you, and dahyun can feel their gaze turn to her when they start to realize where you were headed. dahyun wants to shrink into herself and disappear. she wishes she had kept her sweater on because she has never felt more exposed than at this moment. 

“y/n! hey, are you sitting with us?” chaeyoung asks, her mouth widening into a smile as your figure forms before them.

“sup, yeah i am.” you and chaeyoung share a quick hug before she makes space between her and dahyun. her eyes go open as you sit down between them, and the bare skin of your arm grazes hers. 

then, your face goes blank as you lean over. 

“momo.”

“y/nnie.” 

for a moment, you and momo look hard at one another. dahyun doesn’t understand what they have against you and momo, but she thinks she might suffocate sitting in the middle. just in time, another whistle goes off, and she exhales when everyone turns to watch the relay race.

over the course of a few hours, as they watch the different events and cheer on their friends, dahyun learns first that you had come to support jeongyeon and her friend miyeon who also hangs around with you on the weekends after basketball practice. you didn’t realize that dahyun had friends in track and field, so you didn’t invite her because you didn’t want her to come just to be bored. 

so you ask dahyun about nayeon and tzuyu, and chaeyoung cuts in to tell you about their two wacky friends and all of their funny antics. momo, for the most part, is quiet for the entire time, except for when tzuyu and nayeon are racing, and she stands to cheer them on. 

all of the events today were so close, and dahyun didn’t realize that some teenagers run on a circle would be so nerve racking. in the end, tzuyu’s relay team comes in first. mina sets a new record in the school, and nayeon places third in her own event. jeongyeon and miyeon compete against one another in the 300 hurdles, and miyeon beats out jeongyeon by a slim margin, leaving the crowd hysterical. 

while everyone was filling off of the bleachers, your hand rests gently on the curve of dahyun’s lower back to keep her from drifting too far from you into the crowd. 

“do you wanna come say hi to my friends before we leave?” you ask from behind, as you’re making your way off the bleachers. your minty breath makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

“um…are you sure?” dahyun turns up to try and read the expression on your face, but you’re already waving at a group of your friends from below, farther off into the parking lot. 

“don’t be scared, they’re nice.” you reassure, distracted and unaware of the anxiety scratching inside her. your hand presses into her back just slightly, urging her forward. 

you two reach the bottom of the stairs, and before parting ways, momo grasps dahyun’s arm. she can almost feel the glare from behind her, even if she doesn’t see it directly. 

“i want to talk to you about something tomorrow, okay?” she speaks in a low tone into her ear. dahyun notices that momo’s cheeks were red, and she nods. they agree to meet in the courtyard before tennis practice tomorrow after shool. 

when dahyun steps back over to where you were waiting, your amrs were crossed over your chest, face still starkly dark. and your eyes were firing daggers at momo’s retreating form. 

“still wanna say goodbye to your friends?” dahyun asks, pulling your attention back to her. your expression softens, and you lead her to where your group is, all sitting or standing around the open trunk of someone’s car with music blasting from it. they’re all joking around and laughing as you and her approach them, but they quiet down when they see dahyun join the group behind you. 

“y/n, where the fuck have you been?” jeongyeon’s tone is casual, despite the agressive language. she’s leaning on the back of the car all sweaty and tired looking, you just flash a smirk at her. 

“congrats on the race by the way,” you say giving her a brotherly dap, “if it were me though, i would’ve won that.” 

“yeah, yeah, fuck off, asshole.” 

“i’m actually about to head out, but i wanted to introduce you guys to my friend, dahyun.” you step aside to reveal her from behind. “dubu, this is jeongyeon, if you haven’t figured already. jihyo, sana, casey, and doona.”

dahyun looks up at everyone’s faces as you name the off, giving a small smile and awkward wave of her hand to each of them. she recognizes jihyo and sana as the girls in the hallway earlier and feels herself shrinking when their eyes appraise the entirety of her. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you, dahyun.” casey says, shooting her a welcoming smile. even though he was the one of two guys in the group, he was pretty tall and well built. his face is all sharp angles, but eyes and tone of voice are warming. next to him, eunwoo, a boy with a two-block haircut and fair cream skin, flashes another smile with a nod of agreement. 

“yeah, now we know who’s been stealing good ol’ prime time over here after school,” jeongyeon adds in with quirk of her lip. dahyun knows she meant it as a joke, but her eyes were half serious. 

“heh, sorry about that. it’s nice to finally meet you guys,” dahyun responds, looking down, her voice soft and shy in her own ears. 

sana steps forward to her, twirling a strand of dahyun’s hair.

“dahyun, love that name. and your hair. so pretty.” sana’s voice is saccharine sweet, and she smiles with her eyes too, but it looks a lot more sinister despite the happy appearance. 

dahyun inadvertently takes a step back from her, wrapping her arms around herself. the other girl, jihyo, breaks into a giggle and tugs her friend back to ease the tension in the air. 

“be nice, sana. she looks terrified of you.” 

“what? i was being nice.” sana shrugs then turns back to dahyun. “you are so pretty.” 

dahyun’s face suddenly flushes, and she mumbles out a quiet thanks. she looks back and forth from sana to jihyo. each of the two girls have similar features but the height difference is what breaks the two. both brunettes with sana having straight hair while jihyo’s was a little wavy. both also have well structured faces along with fair skin and pouty lips, eyes striking but with so much softness behind them. 

when she doesn’t know what else to say, dahyun turns to you with a pleading look. 

“alright, we’ll be taking our leave now. i’ll see you guys later,” you say, nodding your head at the group. as they turn to walk away,  jeongyeon yells after them.

“dahyun! come to the party this saturday. my place.” 

you look back at jeongyeon and then back at dahyun.

“maybe!” you call back, pulling dahyun away from them. 

by the time you’re pulling out of the parking lot, it was getting late. the sun is nearly setting in the hroizion, and the world around you two is darkening into a blue tint. 

“that was really weird,” dahyun states, resting her head on the knuckles of her fist, elbow against the window. 

you blow a short laugh through the nose. “yeah, kind of. you don’t have to hang out with them again. i just thought it’d be weird if they didn’t know who you were.” 

she peeks over at you, eyes tracing over the angle of your jaw, the point of your nose, the way the loose strand of hair frames your achingly beautiful face. 

“why would it be weird if they didn’t know me?” dahyun asks, closing her eyes and singing to herself. 

“you know…’cause you’re my friend. and you said they scared you,” you reply with a title of your chin, keeping eyes trained on the road but what you’re saying is straightforward and obvious. 

“they still scare me.” 

“yeah, well, i tried. it’s not my fault you’re shy.” you tease and reach over to rattle her shoulder. dahyun opens her eyes then and lets out a giggle. whe you pull your hand away, she rethinks her choice of words. 

“i know i’m awkward. sorry.” she bites the inside of her cheek, feeling stupid at how anxious she is around people. 

“no need to apologize dubu, i find it cute that you’re like that.” you say, lips quirking up at the sides. you glance over her, and dahyun could put money on the fact that what you just said can make her face blow up with pink all over. luckily for you, it was working how dahyun’s cheeks were betraying her. 

the rest of the short drive back home, it’s a comfortable silence. when you pull into the driveway of her home, dahyun stalls getting out. it’s between eight to nice, and the only light left is the reflection of your headlights from her house’s garage door.

she nearly spent five hours with you today, and still, she doesn’t want to leave. she imagines getting out of the car into the cool air would sting as much as ripping off a bandaid and letting the wound bleed right through completely. 

dahyun looks at her skirt and plays with a loose thread at the end of the. she can feel your eyes on her, probably waiting for her to say something or leave, but she doesn’t think she can do one or the other for that matter.

“dahyun?” 

“hmm.?”

“you know we’re here, right?” 

dahyun looks up to the sky at an angle, hiding her tugged smile, “i know.” 

she looks down and up at you again, eyes meeting. no matter how many times she sees you, the intensity of your jewel toned irises send a shock down her spine. her gaze flickers down to your lips, and she wonders for a split second what they would feel like against hers. 

“dahyun.” 

her name is whispered with a plea as you lean forward, placing your hand on the back of her neck to pull their faces within mere inches of one another. she’s intoxicated by the blow of your cool breath on her lips. 

your eyes fall closed, and dahyun leans forward, kissing you. 

the feel of your mouth on dahyun’s is searing. your hand is at the back of her neck, hodling her firmly in place as your lips are moving against one another. this new feeling burns at dahyun’s insides until she’s left with a molten, aching center, yearning more and more of you. 

she presses her hands to your shoulders, pulling you closer. you’re nipping at her bottom lip with your teeth, lapping it over with your tongue to soothe the firm pressing, and dahyun can’t help but let out the whimper that escapes her mouth. her hands then slide down to your chest, crumpling up the fabric of your shirt—everything in her body is catching on fire of this wanting. 

the hint of anticipation licks at her skin, and she’s hoping that you’ll do something more, touching her, feeling her, to not stop at making her feel this way. instead, you pull away, and dahyun tries to fight down the whine from the loss of contact. your foreheads are resting against each other, and she’s drinking up the breath from your lips and into her face. you’re still holding the nape of her neck, and the other hand is clutching to hers, fist on chest, squeezing her hand ever so slightly. 

nothing happens for a minute, but in that little pocket of space where it’s just you two in the car, away from the world, the desire burning inside dahyun cools into a sudden rush of anxiety. she just kissed you. she just kissed you, and she liked it so much. 

did you like it? is this how you were in your other relationships? i don’t even think i’ve ever been kissed this way before…? 

dahyun then thinks back to what jihyo and sana said earlier today. “i bet she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else.” 

“dahyun…” you whisper again, before placing another chaste kiss on her lips and pulling away from her completely. she leans back into the cushion of your car seat and looks back down at the thread of her skirt that she was picking at before, feeling shy and embarrassed at her lack of experience. if a kiss could make her feel this way, then how would everything else she thought would happen really—

“hey, look at me.” 

she’s caught off guard by your words, and she’s unable to deny anything from her mind. “was that okay?” you ask, brows slightly crinkled with a worry, expression full of concern with what you two just did. 

dahyun nods slowly, then looks down again, now clutching her thigh. your hand freely swoops over to grab hers, and you pull it over back to you, clasping it with the other over your leg. “please, tell me what you’re thinking.” you say gently. 

“y/n…” dahyun hushes out, still trying to find the right words that can convey her emotions the best. “shy did you suddenly want to hang out with me again?” she asks, the doubt creeping through her face. 

“i–” you close your mouth before taking the lump in your throat downward. “i missed you. i just wanted us to be friends again.” 

“and that’s the only reason? you just wanted us to be friends?!” 

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, your eyes landing on dahyun’s face yet again, hers searching for any sigh of dishonesty and ambiguity. looking out the window into the coolness of the night, you let out a deep breath that rattles your teeth, lips finding the arches of her knuckles kissing them. “i wanted to be in your life again. i want to be whatever you want me to be.” 

dahyun looks at you, the uncertainty in her eyes while yours was carried with a vulnerability that she hasn’t seen from you in a very long time. her desire for more of you and the natural reflex of her to hide, to keep herself safe, a tumultuous war within her. 

you win, of course, because you’ve already let dahyun surrender herself to you at a point where it’s so badly needed. 

“do you want to come inside?” dahyun asks you, but really, she’s begging. a pause is in the air after she asks you, and the emotions are splayed across your face, but you settle on one and an answer behind it. 

“i don’t think i should,” you answer softly, breaking a smile, but it there was a tinge of pain under it—your hand still clasped with hers. 

“please.” she whispers, almost fooling herself that you didn’t hear the desperation in her voice. you look out the window away, scrunching your eyes closed before dipping your head down, pulling her hand close to you again for another kiss. 

“i really want to. i do, believe me.” you mumble, eyes trained on her as her small hand is nestled with your cheek. “i’ll see you tomorrow instead, okay?” 

your rejection stings, and dahyun looks away from you. she didn’t want to see your apologetic look that you’re giving her, the pouted face that she knows that you make whenever you two would argue over something. the immensity of her feelings for you hangs on her neck like it might strangle her, and it hurts to think that you don’t feel it too. regardless, she nods and pulls her hand away.

once you said goodbye to her at the door and a skincare regimen later, dahyun lies in bed staring at the blinking light of the smoke detector in near complete darkness. it was way past her bedtime, and she should be asleep by now, but every time she closes her eyes, she pictures your lips on her, your hand holding the back of her neck in place. she pictures your twinkling eyes, so bright and filled with a universe within those irises, running over the bare skin of her shoulders. 

there’s a weight pulling at the center of her, full of something that belongs to you. she rubs her thighs together, trying to soothe the sensation that would definitely keep her up at night. it doesn’t help her case however, she can’t stop imagining what it would be like if you had come in earlier, next to her on the bed, if you were on top of her right now. her hand slithers down the waistband of her shorts, sliding it away soon after of the hope that would come true to her. 

“y/n…” she whispers into the darkness, and drifts off soon after that. 

dahyun gives you the usual goodbye as the bell rang for the first class of the day. the ride to school was more casual than she expected it to be, neither of you bringing up the kiss from the day before. she was lacking too much sleep to really hold a conversation with you, and you didn’t say much either, other than saying that you’d be waiting for her to finish tennis practice. 

it’s passing period, and dahyun is opening the combination of her locker when a pair of dainty hands come up behind her to cover her eyes, obscuring her vision.

“guess who?!” a chirpy voice calls from behind. dahyun laughs and turns back to see chuu, hands up and framing his face as if to present herself. “it’s your other best friend that you never talk to!” she exclaims cheekily. 

 “hi bestie.” dahyun replies, rolling her eyes. she and chuu had nearly been inseparable freshman year when chuu was new to the school and town, having moved to the suburban sides from the city. chuu was the one who taught dahyun the wonders of mascara and lip gloss, and in return, dahyun introduced her to tzuyu. the three of them used to slather face masks on each other and giggle about nonsense in sleepovers friday nights. 

it wasn’t until recently when dahyun had seen much of chuu. they didn’t have classes together this semester, and her friend had branched out more socially in the past couple years than dahyun was ever interested in. it didn’t help that chuu was also busy, except with the student board, tennis, and a few other clubs around school. 

still though, it was still a point to acknowledge their closeness when they did see one another. 

chuu grabs dahyun’s shoulder, pressing the locker door to mask their conversation away from the bustling hallway. “i heard from half the school that you’re having a little fun with y/n.” she accuses, her whisper breath hot on dahyun’s ear. 

dahyun snaps up, gasping. “huh!?!” a few heads turn to look at them, suspicious eyes from all directions. chuu glares at the people surrounding them, then pulls at dahyun’s sleeve to lead her down the hall where there was a vacant corner. 

“so? is it true? how is she?” chuu demands in a hush, her bright brown eyes twinkling with a hopeful answer. 

“do you really believe what you’re hearing around here?” dahyun responds, shaking her head. 

“oh, yeah? then why did you get out of y/n’s car this morning like you haven’t slept a single wink?” 

“well–” dahyun flushes, her imaginings of you from last night flashing through her head. “i just couldn’t sleep, and y/n lives two houses down from me, so we’ve been…carpooling.” she explains, the defense was reasonable, but it sounds not really convincing to her own ears.

“right, right. and that’s why she ditched her friends to sit with you at tzuyu’s track meet.” chuu retorts, and dahyun’s mouth falls open.

“how do you even know that? you weren’t even at the track!” 

“word travels fast, dub. especially with miss rubber band around here.” chuu says, her face is entirely too serious. 

miss rubber band!? at dahyun’s sudden choked expression, chuu continues. “you know. because how she’s bouncing around relationships.” she adds, matter-of-factly. 

“what the actual…no, well–i’ve heard but i don’t believe that to be true at all, chuu.” 

“sure, and it looks like it’ll be your turn, sooner or later?” chuu suggests, smirking up at her friend. dahyun’s entire body might shut down at this moment. the idea that half the school thinks she’s next in line for a potential rebound was a little overwhelming for her.

the first bell rings, saving her from any more embarrassment. 

“i’ll come find you, we’re not done with this conversation.” chuu says, her index finger pointing at dahyun’s face as she turns to walk away. 

that entire day, dahyun’s head is spinning with words that people might be saying about you and her. was she being a ‘rebound' right now? did the kiss from last night even qualify as that? did someone see them yesterday? how closely have people been watching her interactions with you? if any of those are true to the case, what happens next? were you just gonna move onto the next girl to fall for you? does touching herself at the thought of you being on top of her also relevant to this issue? 

everywhere she turns in the halls, dahyun feels the pool of eyes on her, staring into her soul, listening to the words in her head. she imagines people murmuring her name at the sight of her just simply walking down. whenever someone would speak, she’s afraid she might hear her name from their mouths.

in an attempt to avoid any suspicion or speculation, she tries to sit in the back row for class today, focusing solely on taking notes. she hunches over with eyes downcast, hoping that if she doesn’t see anyone, then no one can see her. walking between classes, she avoids your pathing, not wanting anyone to see the intimacy of your waves at her. 

when it’s the last period of the day, dahyun’s mentally and emotionally exhausted. so when tzuyu walks in, panting, eyes wild, saying, 

“eonnie, i remembered what i was supposed to tell you yesterday.” 

she looks at her loving friend, sighing an exhausted breath. dahyun doesn’t think she has any remaining capacity for any more information. 

“can you tell me later? i’ve had enough of hearing today as it is.” 

“no. you need to know right now. like, i really, really need to tell you right now.” tzuyu implores, eyes flickering over to the door and then back to dahyun. 

“if this is about miss rubber band, then i already know.” dahyun replies, exasperated. she throws her head down on the dsk, laying against the crook of her elbow.

“miss who now?!” tzuyu throws a bewildered look but shakes the idea from her head, apparently having more important matters to discuss. “momo is going to ask you to prom. today.” 

dahyun perks up, the monolids now turned to double eyelids, and exclaims loudly, “what!?!?!?” 

for the second time today, her reaction elicited strange looks from the people around her.

“shhhhh!” tzuyu slaps her hand over dahyun’s mouth. “she’s gonna be here any second.” 

right on cue, momo and chaeyoung enter the room, looking like they’re engrossed in conversation. dahyun grabs tzyyu by the collar and pulls the girl against her face. 

“why would she do that?” she cries, quiet enough for only tzuyu to hear. her friend shoots her another look that says, really? 

“uh, maybe because she’s in love with you?” 

dahyun’s brows scrunch together, and she opens her mouth to respond, but before she can say anything, the late bell rings and everyone takes their seat. their trigonometry teacher starts the class and begins writing notes on the overhead. dahyun is about resign herself to focusing on the lession when tzuyu pokes her with the back of her pencil to get her attention. 

she looks up at her, and tzuyu is holding up her notebook with the words, what are you going to do?? scribbled onto the page. dahyun shakes her head and mouths, “i don’t know.” 

her eyes drift toward the front of the room to stare hard at the back of momo’s head, wondering what tzuyu meant when she said that she was in love with her. she probably feels bad that no one will ask her and doesn’t want her to feel excluded when the rest of their friends are at the dance. her heart squeezes a little in her chest. she’s the type of girl who’s kind enough to look out for her like that. 

but as always, her thoughts circle back to you. what would she think if she agreed to go to prom with momo? would you even care? she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else. dahyun frowns as the words echo in her mind again. you and her might have kissed yesterday, but that doesn’t mean you’re interested in her beyond anything physical. 

even then… if that was all you wanted from her, she thinks she would give you that much. 

her phone buzzes in her lap, and she looks at the screen to see your name pop up. 

y/n: 

are you mad at me? 

another buzz, just two seconds after. 

y/n: 

im sorry about yesterday

you probably regret that kiss. maybe you didn’t want to cross that line with dahyun after. you said that all you wanted was to be in her life again, and dahyun was the one who would get out of your car, who stared, starved, at your lips, who kissed you first. 

dahyun: 

what are you sorry about? 

another buzz.

y/n: 

can we talk after class? 

dahyun: 

i have to meet up with momo after class

y/n: 

see me first

it’ll be quick

dahyun: 

okay 

the rest of the class goes on learning how to graph trig functions and explaining conditional identities while dahyun’s brain works overtime trying to connect the dots and solve her own convoluted problems. she doesn’t understand how she got into this mess in the first place, and she can’t seem to figure a way out of it.

one hour later, and her brain talks itself in circles. is momo really going to ask her to the dance? what would she say if she does? does she want to go to prom with momo? does she want to go at all? what do you want to talk to her about today? do you even know what other people are saying? should she apologize to you? should she apologize to momo? 

the questions swirl in dahyun’s mind until eventually, the school day is nearly up and the teacher gives them the last few minutes to talk amongst themselves. she sees momo turn back with a smile and give her a shy wave, which she returns, despite the chaos inside her. 

momo stands, putting on her backpack, then starts over to them. tzuyu gives dahyun a look before turning and smiling back at momo too. 

“hey, tzu.” momo says, looking at dahyun. tzuyu greets her back, but the words fall on deaf ears. “we’re still meeting before tennis practice today, right?”

dahyun nods slowly, wondering whether meeting her is still a good idea when she doesn’t know if she would want to go with her to prom. “yeah, um, actually i have to do something before, but i’ll meet you there.” 

“cool.” 

she tries to smile, to hide her uncertainty, and momo smiles back, distracted. the final bell rings, and she waves at the two of them, mumbling, “see you in a bit, dahyun,” before walking out. she looks around the room in search of chaeyoung, but she seems to have left already, which is unlike her. 

dahyun and tzuyu leave the classroom together. she picks up her phone to text you asking where they should meet, but just as she enters the hallway, her nose bumps into a broad chest covered in a black t-shirt. dahyun jumps, startled, about to pull back and apologize to whoever she just ran into, but your hands come up to her sides and stabilizes her. 

when she loks up, your name falls out of her mouth in recognition. you smile down at her sweetly, and your lips form the shape of her bame. somehow, she feels both relief fill her chest and nervousness slosh around her ears at the sight of you. 

she turns to see tzuyu’s mouth gape open at the two of you. you wave a hello to her as dahyun waves a goodbye, and tzuyu continues on her way, probably deciding to interrogate dahyun on the juicy details later. 

you lead dahyun down through the crowd of people rushing to leave school, and just like every other time she’s been with you, she can feel the prying eyes leering over again. she doesn’t know if she could ever brush it off so easily, the way you seem to.

eventually, you arrive at a small, grassy plot at the back of the school where few people go, and dahyun lets out a breath when she finds there’s no one else there to eavesdrop on them. regardless, you and her stand behind a tree, using the trunk and sagging branches to shield yourselves just in case. 

she sees your frown and has to tamper down the urge to kiss at the wrinkles on your face, to soothe whatever was upsetting you. 

“i’m sorry for kissing you yesterday.” you start, looking away from her. it’s one of the few times dahyun has ever seen you blush.

“y/n, i—” 

“i really like you, dahyun. i like you so much. but i don’t want to force you into anything.” you interrupt her. dahyun’s eyes widen, and she can feel her own face heat up. she thinks she should say something, anything right now, but she doesn’t have the words. you grab hold of her hands and continue on.

“i asked to start hanging out with you again because i heard a while back that momo was planning on asking you to prom. and i realized how little i knew about what was going on in your life. and i…i couldn’t stand the idea of you going to prom with her.” you confess, looking down at your hands. the vulnerability in your face reminds her of the girl she’s known all her life. 

dahyun still can’t find the words, so instead, she tiptoes, reaching up to hold your face and presses her lips against yours. you let out a surprised noise before sinking into her, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her closer to you. this time, the kiss feels more like a sigh, like relief. this time, dahyun has to be the one to pull back and look at you, her hands still holding your face. 

“do you really mean that? you really like me? you just don’t wanna…” dahyun hides herself in the crook of your neck, “...use me as a rebound?” she mumbles the lsat bit under her breath, feeling embarssed for asking at all. 

“i don’t just want to what?” you gape, seemingly offended by the words she used. “did you say use you as a rebound? where the fuck did you hear that, dahyun?” you pull back from her to look at her face, gripping her arms. anger flashes through your eyes.

dahyun’s eyes widen, lower lip quivering. jihyo and sana’s faces flash through her mind, but she swallows the memory. 

“chuu told me that people have been saying we’re getting toegher and…” dahyun whispers into your chest, unable to look at you. 

“ugh, fuck.” you groan out, wrapping your arms around her again, pulling her into you. “i don’t know what people’s obsession with walking about me is, but they’re really fucking stupid.” 

dahyun watches your jaw clench and unclench, like you’re trying to contain yourself. guilt squeezes in your gut. she presses a kiss to your shoulder, wanting to calm you. 

“i’m sorry. i know you already told me not to listen to the rumors, but i…” she trails off, unable to describe the insecurity that rattles through her. 

“no, i'm sorry. people can say whatever the fuck they want about me, but have nothing to do with it. i’m sorry for dragging you into this.” you sigh again and rest your chin on the top of her head, inhaling her scent like she’s an infant. 

“dahyun, do you like me?” you whisper, still holding her to you. “because i like you so much.” 

her heart is rattling in her chest, and she knows her feelings for you are more than she can say. but she responds to you how she thinks she should.

“i like you, y/n.” the words muffled in your chest. she hugs your abdomen tighter, scared and embarrassed. so you stand there, holding each other, and for a moment, the anxious voices in dahyun’s head quiet. in your arms, she’s safe. 

then, her phone chimes, and she remembers where she’s supposed to be. 

“oh god. it’s almost 3. i think momo is going to ask me to prom right now.” she says, covering her mouth with her hand, unsure of what to do.

“don’t go.” your voice is soft, but the intensity of your gaze on her is commanding. “tell her you’re busy.” 

you squeeze her waist, arms holding steadfast around her. dahyun leans her head down onto your chest and thinks that if she goes to see momo, she’ll have to be away from you, even for just a short time. the thought turns her entire body into protest. 

her phone chimes again, and she thinks about momo, and the kindness she’s always shown her, the kindness she would be showing her by asking. she thinks about how she’s arlady agreed to see her today, and the obligation nearly tears her from you. 

but then, you whisper, “please.” 

what can she do to appease you? 

“okay.” 

dahyun texts momo back, apologizing to her for not being able to make it, and then you and her run hand-in-hand to your car, giggling like two kids in love because they are. 

when you get into your car, her lips find yours again. they become a mashing of teeth, a tangle of limbs, the sliding of two tongues, a mixed songs of pants and moans. and when that isn’t anough, you ask dahyun if she wants to come over to your house because your parents had left for a weekend getaway this morning. dahyun can’t agree fast enough.

the entire tide back is about eight minutes long, but you’re gripping dahyun’s thigh, squeezing every so often, as to remind her of how much she wants you, as if she could forget (not ever). dahyun feels a burning sensation within her, the ache of a dense ball for you, squashing out any nervousness she might have. 

you glance back and forth with each other, not speaking, tension weighing too heavy for words. you’re past her house, and briefly, dahyun wonders if her parents are home. but the next second after, it’s at the driveway of your house, and you’re throwing the car into park, yanking the keys form the ignition slot. 

both of you try to walk casually to the front door, in case of any neighbors watching. dahyun’s become too aware of where her body is in relation to yours, following directly behind you, nearly stepping on the backs of your heels. 

once the door was unlocked, and it’s been countless times before, it still feels like the first time with the way the kitchen is empty of your mom, the way you lead her up the staris with an arm around her waist, the way you pull her through the door of your bedroom, slamming it shut, pushing her against it. 

your hot mouth is on dahyun’s neck, fingers pushing up against the fabric of her outfit, digging into her waist. it’s all too much for her as she’s flustered, whimpering quietly. 

there’s a shift of movement from your door to the bed when you’re sitting dahyun down, you give her another delicate kiss before kneeling in front of her, hodling one of her hands with your pair, looking up at her like she’s the goddess of your shrine. 

“dahyun,” you breathe out, almost like a prayer. “i’ll take it slow, i promise.” you kiss her knuckles, eyes squeezing shut as you do so. when you open them again, the expression is almost too severe. “just promise that you’ll stop me if something’s wrong or if there’s anything you don’t want to do.” 

she nods, but you shake your head unconvinced. “i need you to say it, dahyun.” 

“i promise. i’ll stop you if it’s too much.” even as she says the words, she knows that there isn’t much she wouldn’t be willing to do with you, for you. 

“okay, now where was i?” your voice was low enough to make her tremble. she reaches out to you ascending from your kneeling position, catching your lips with her, and she pulls you on top of her. 

just your weight bearing down on her is enough to make dahyun light headed with want again. you kiss her softly, slowly. your mouth is full of sweet, whispered affirmations, warming her skin with how much you like her, how beautiful she is, how she’s the only one for you as you trail around the shell of her ear, then her neck and shoulders. she might find comfort in the level of care you put into this moment if she weren’t so needy for more of you. 

she’s pulling you back to her mouth, deepening the kiss, and running her tongue over yours, sucking on your lower lip. her hands trace over the defined lines of your midsection, riding up your shirt, your breath hitching from the sudden coolness of her nails against your skin. 

“dahyun.” you look down at her face for a moment, and she’s looking back up at you with a whole-hearted trust and surrender. 

“y/n.” she quietly whines out, tugging at your shirt, hands grazing over where the top part of your hip meets the fabric of your cargo pants. “get rid of this.” 

you’re ripping the shirt off to show a white sports bra, throwing it over you like it was offensive. turning back to dahyun again, the distance zeroed in with a new purpose. 

the cylindrical line of her neck is where your lips are planted, sucking hard. you have one hand holding her cheek while the other is palming her breast through her bra. a moan through her lips to yours was the implication of approval with what you’re doing, and dahyun is loving it. 

dahyun’s arm slithers around your waist while you perch back up to kiss her again with both hands on her face, this time the contact is a lot more intimate than before, the both of you are taking your sweet time compared to the sudden urgency at the doorway of your room and even in your car. each lip lock filled with much more care and love behind it before you’re pulling away with eyes fluttering open. 

it’s all a mess, lips are parted, breaths are heavy, heart rates have been accelerated to over mach 10, but it was so worth it and the both of you knew that. you plop over to her left side on the bed while dahyun makes herself comfortable in a spooning position with your arm over her waist. a much deserved place for dahyun—one that was waiting for her all this time. 

“you’re so pretty.” you mumble softly, moving a wisp of dahyun’s hair away from her forehead before giving another light kiss to her cheek then resting your head against the nook of her shoulders. 

“i like this.” she whispers out, feeling your breath against her clavicle as the sudden wave of sleepiness takes over you two. 

dahyun was the first one to wake up, and the first thing she notices is how safe and warm she feels. your arms are encircled around her completely, the comforter over you and her as well. 

there’s a light orange of light filtering through the blinds that shows it’s sundown, and the nap she took with you could be for an hour or more. she tries to move only to be restricted by your arms tightening around her. 

she twists herself around to look at your face, innocent and soft in sleep. on another day, in another life, dahyun might want to spend the entire day sleeping in your arms. but for right now, she presses her lips to your cheeks and chin. 

“y/n?” dahyun speaks lightly, shaking your shullder just slightly, trying to wake you up. your eyes flash open and you’re inhaling deeply with a hand over your face to scrub the tiredness away. 

“dub, how long have we been asleep?” you ask, voice husky, stirring something inside her.

“i think for an hour or so.” she replies, so you give her another chaste kiss, then untangling yourself from her body sitting up, putting your hands in your face again to get you awake. when you’re cracking your neck and rustling your hair, dahyun keeps her gaze locked onto you as you stare up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes again. 

“you okay?” you chuckle out, “why are you—” 

dahyun then catches you off by surprise when she sits herself on your lap, naturally placing your hands on her hips as dahyun embraces the high ground advantage. you lips are parted as her face is inches away from yours, studying your features. she notices the hit of your puffed lips from the earlier makeout sesh while you study the subtle marks you put on her neck—they weren’t noticeable, but it’s there. 

“hm?” you sound off with closed lips, “what’s the next move?” 

“shh.” dahyun orders and her hands shift your head upwards with the space between your mouths filled with your faces. this time it was your turn to be on the receiving end of this, groaning slightly at the newfound surge that dahyun was possessed by, her fingers getting tangled in your hair as your hands are under her shirt, feeling the small dip of her spine and her snatched waist. 

dahyun’s hair falls onto one side as her hand finds itself on you neck, her other arm wrapped around the back of it as you hum with delight with how she’s handling you like you did with her. she thought that she’d be nervous, but if it’s with you, then she could care less about how to make you feel. 

your hands lock themselves on the back of dahyun’s hips, pulling away to see the flushed chceks and wide pupils in all of it’s glory. 

“this is nice. god, why didn’t we do this before?” you ask breathlessly. 

“maybe because you’re an idiot.” dahyun responds, laughing lightly as she dips her head to meet yours. her fingers are fiddling with the roots on the back of your head, rubbing your neck as you give her a soft smile of approval. you pick up where you left off pouting your lips for another kiss when there’s a sudden vibration on the nightstand. 

it takes about two rings for dahyun to answer her mom on the other end of the phone. “hello?” 

“dahyun, where are you? it’s almost dinner.” her mom asks.

“i’m at y/n’s house right now, we were just…studying.” she answers, trying to keep herself composed when you come up behind her on the edge of the bed, kissing the hanging earlobe and area behind it. 

“oh, you’re with y/n? you could ask her to come along and have dinner with us!” 

“sure, i’ll be there in a bit.” dahyun replies, hanging up the phone after.

“studying, huh?” you say into her ear, teasing with a smile against it. 

dahyun looks over at you, face bright red while you have a shit faced grin stretched all over. if her mom knew what she was actually doing over her, she might never see the light outside of her house again. 

“you’re annoying!” she exclaims, falling back into the bed as you crack a snicker. after a second, you lay next to dahyun, resting your upper body on your elbow. you stare into dahyun’s eyes, and the single second stretches into another tender moment. 

dahyun is about to lean up to kiss you again when you shift your head up at the last second to touch your lips with the tip of her nose. 

“we should get going. i’m hungry anyway.” 

you’re walking together in the fifty feet that it takes to get from your house to dahyun’s, unable to stand being even an inch apart from one another. when you two get to the door, you stall for just a second. 

“okay, just be chill about it. the last thing i want your mom to assume that we’re messing around.” 

dahyun nods. chill. should be simple anyway. you look at her, eyes soft, and pull her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckle before letting go. you open the door first and let dahyun in and the smell of jokbal fills the air. 

“dahyun? is that you?” her mom’s voice calls from the kitchen.

“yeah! i brought y/n with me!” she responds, as you take off your track jacket and shoes at the door before stepping more into the house. her mom pops her head out to see you two, and her face lights up at the sight of you before walking over. 

“y/n! oh my gosh it’s been so long!” dahyun’s mom pulls you in for a loving hug with a kiss to your cheek, pulling away and grasping your shoulders. “what have you been eating? you look so good and healthy.” 

you laugh, putting a hand over the back of your head. “thanks for inviting me over mama kim. you’re literally the best.” you say, smiling, and following her and dahyun into the kitchen. “is that–”

“yours and dahyun’s favorite!” and you're letting out a big whoop out your mouth shaped ‘o’ at the sight of the jokbal set at the dinner table. “you shouldn’t have. do you need any help?” 

“just get the plates and utensils. dahyun can you get the japchae behind me?” to which she nods at her mom before swiftly moving around the kitchen to get the dish. 

few minutes pass and the four of you including dahyun’s dad are all at the table digging in, chatting back and forth with the usual questions about school and how your parents are doing—all the fun stuff to share since it has been a while that you’ve seen dahyun’s parents. the conversation dulls over to all of the times where you would knock at the door for dahyun’s mom to greet you asking if dahyun’s in her room or if you can come inside. 

“did you forget when chaeyoung with the—”

“and when dahyun got all scared about–”

the whole table bursts out into laughter, and dahyun chuckles at the embarrassment she feels over her parents having to retell stories from their childhood in front of a much more coller and well matured version of you when dahyun feels like the same girl you’ve seen her as for most of your life. 

“say, what’s up with chaeyoung? it’s been a while since i’ve heard about her too.” dahyun’s mom asks. 

“well, she has a new girlfriend so she’s been busy with that and with school as well.” 

“good for her, i hope she’s treating her girlfriend well knowing her.” dahyun’s mom adds. 

“what about you, y/n? are you in a relationship right now?” her dad asks suggestively. 

dahyun lets a quick air out of her nose before tapping the table. “dad! don’t ask her that.” she says, upset at the sudden switch of people.

her dad laughs, putting up his hands in surrender. “sorry, didn’t know it was a sensitive subject.” 

“it’s just a little weird, that’s all.” 

you laugh awkwards to ease the energy, looking over at dahyun, “dahyun, it’s fine. to answer your question, i do like someone at the moment, so i’m hoping they feel the same way.” 

dahyun’s face heats up again, and she glances up to see her mom’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. 

“well, i hope that you get some good luck with that.” her dad responds with a sincere smile. 

at the end of the dinner, you and dahyun help clear the table, and her dad tells you two that he’s got it under control, so dahyun walks you out into the night to say goodbye. 

once the front door closes, you look at her from the steps with your hands in the pockets of your track jacket, smiling at dahyun over the hanging light. “good thing you were chill about it.” 

dahyun exhales sharply before pressing her face to a frown, earning another laugh from you as she taps your shoulder urging you to stop. soon after, you’re reaching out to caress the skin on her face with your thumb. 

“it’s okay. i think your dad is very supportive of me still.” you say, looking down at her when dahyun reaches the end of the small steps. 

the only light out now is the one bulb on the front porch, and dahyun feels an annoyancee at how you can still look so beautiful with the dim light and poor quality. then, that feeling settles in ehr gut as something more aching. she closes the distance between you, tilting her head up to kiss you. you smile against her lips, but after a few seconds, pulling away with hands on her arms. 

“your parents are literally inside past the door. do you really want me killed by them?” you whsiper, and dahyun sighs, disappointedly. 

“good night, y/n” 

“good night, dahyun.” you respond, letting go of her. “i’ll text you after basketball, okay?” 

dahyun nods before seeing your off, heading inside after. 

“honey, i know there’s something going on with you and y/n.” her momo says, standing with her arms crossed in dahyun’s bedroom door frame. 

“ma! no, there’s not!” dahyun groans out, hiding her face in her pillow. she hears her mom step over to her and sit down on the side of the bead. her mom places a gentle hand on her back.

“i’ve seen the way you look at her. i know something happened between you two.” her mom’s voice was deliberate, but she had a point. dahyun holds her breath, hoping that if she’s silent enough, her mom will take the hint and leave. 

“y/n is a good kid, we’ve known her for years, but i just want you to be careful okay?” dahyun sits up from her bed as her mom gives her another look with a smile. 

“you two kissed outside our house didn’t you?”

you rub your face furiously, but nothing that you do is enough to shake off the image of blood dripping from your mouth. 

her blood. 

tears are welling up in your eyes, choking sobs wrenching from your gut. it all started innocently enough. 

well-

not quite innocent, because that wasn’t the word you would use to describe the position that you were in, with your fingers buried inside dahyun, your mouth nibbling delicate trails down her neck. 

you only remember her moans, her breathless commands for you to go harder, faster, deeper, the way she opened up so beautifully to you, her legs spreading so eagerly for you. 

the scent, however, you don’t even remember how it overcame you, the heady aroma of her arousal and the blood, thrumming hard and fast in her veins. you remember even less when your teeth tore into dahyun’s skin and tasted her for the first time, a taste so exquisite, it would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“y/n…” 

you look up to see the reflection of your father in the mirror, jaw set in a grim line. 

“she’s gonna make it, right…?” 

you haven’t heard yourself this weak since the early years of grade school. not since losing to the new girl at the park left you in tears, 

every. 

single. 

day. 

now, that same girl, older now, the same one you held so many times, was in the hospital, battling for her life…and it was completely, entirely, your doing. 

your father just nods, knowing that the words will serve no purpose here, because you’ve already become broken, too damaged by the truth of your own nature to be consoled by the petty words. 

“we need to leave, y/n.” 

knowing what your father meant, that he wasn’t talking about leaving the bathroom, or the hospital, or even to go visit dahyun…he was talking about leaving town…forever. 

“you can’t expect me to just leave her like this,” you cry, “she needs me,” 

the stinging sound of a slap rang loud and clear across the stalls of the bathroom.

“let’s not forget the reason she’s in the hospital, in the first place.” 

and all you could do was hold your cheek gingerly, tears burning the red imprint of your father’s hand across your skin, because those words were a much needed reminder. even though guilt ripped through you for what you done, a small part of you, stubborn and child-like, still longed to be at dahyun’s bedside, to hold her hand till her eyes opened again. 

“i will only say this once,” your father murmurs somberly, “and you will do well to listen.” 

“she is better off without you.” 

—

most people say that medical anesthesia induces a deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep. but instead of the black nothingness that was supposed to surround her, dahyun rememberonly red, swelling around her like pretty petals falling from the sky…and a voice. 

“dahyun…?” 

“oh god, no please wake up dahyun, please…” 

she can hear soft sobs in the background. 

“what have i done…dad? what’s happening?” 

“why won’t she open her eyes?!?!” 

there is pain, heavy, scathing in this voice, and she wants to go to you, to the voice that’s crying for her. 

but she can’t, for the love of you, seem to open her eyes. 

—

when dahyun does finally wake, to the dull, throbbing pain of having one too many tubes stuck in her body, she sees jeongyeon, her eyes lighting up as if in slow motion. 

“dahyun,” jeongyeon mumbles, hugging her gingerly, “i was so worried…what happened to you?” 

her hands feel stiff, like lead, but she lifts them to her head anyway, rubbing her forehead slowly. “i don’t know…” 

dahyun would’ve asked where she was, but her consciousness had revived to the point where she could recognize the conatst beeping and the bottles of liquid hung over her head. 

she was in the hospital. 

“your parents just went to grab a bite…they’ve been here for the past ten hours, waiting for you to wake up…” 

“jeong…” dahyun speaks slowly, her tongue hurting to even speak, “where’s y/n?” 

jeongyeon gulps, the brown in her eyes crinkling with regret. 

“she…” jeongyeon hesitates, not knowing how to tell her that when you had called her, there was no answer, and that when you had run over to her house, frantic, pounding on her door desperately, nobody had opened the door either. “y/n has gone away…for a bit.” 

—

working for the bureau has taught dahyun a host of things. of these life lessons, the most important is to always be prepared. with a job that has such high amounts of risk involved on a daily basis, being prepared for the worst is a lifestyle that she has adapted to. be it an explosion, a knife at her throat, or being held at gunpoint, dahyun’s seen it all and come out unfazed.

but standing here, across the room from a woman she hasn’t seen in years, dahyun is definitely not prepared for the impatient scowl spreading across your sharp features. 

“how did you find me?” 

contempt oozes out of your words, thick and poisonous, flowing onto her and leaving their sting, but dahyun doesn’t show it. it’s a trait she’s mastered over the years. 

“i work for the bureau,” dahyun says impassively, “we have our ways.” ways that have been useless for the past seven years, she wants to add, but elects to keep quiet. 

you stare at dahyun for what seems like hours, angry flashes of dark into her warm brown. you are visibly seething and a part of dahyun is smiling inside because after seven of not knowing if you were alive or dead, she was ready to give anything to just look at you, angry or not. 

“did it ever occur to you that maybe i didn’t want you to find me?” you hiss, tone rising. 

every day, dahyun thinks somberly. she was never under any illusions. she realized within the first one year of your devastating disappearance from her life that you didn’t want anything to do with her. 

“i needed to know that you were okay.” 

that you were alive. happy. 

before dahyun’s well trained eyes could register it, you were in front of her, pinning her against the wall. your presence is everywhere, all around her and she can barely breathe. dazedly, dahyun wonders when you learned to move that fast. 

you grit your teeth, eyes gleaming menacingly. “well here i am, dahyun.” you hover right above her, face barely inches away. “do i look okay enough for you?” 

dahyun nods mutely, crushed by the power of your hold to make her feel so vulnerable. “i thought you were dead,” she whispers, looking into your bright verdant orbs, still reveling in the fact that you weren’t dead, you very much alive and standing right in front of her. 

the fear, that undeniable dread in her voice as she utters those words is so powerful, you were this close to breaking down, the heady scent of having dahyun in your arms making you completely weak. 

backing away, knowing that this kind of proximity, the nature of this very conversation is heading down a dangerous path for the both of you and so you step away, giving back her breathing space. 

pinching the bridge of your nose, you steel yourself, working up the courage to say the words that are the very opposite of what you so desperately want. “you need to leave.” 

desperation washes over, fuelled by the withdrawal of having you so close to her. “i’ve never stopped looking,” dahyun says, looking away. “not once.” 

“you weren’t supposed to be looking for me,” you mutter, but it’s futile, you knew perfectly well how she worked. 

“there were no traces of you anywhere,” dahyun continues bleaky, “not until you contacted jeongyeon.”

a moment of weakness. when you learned that jeongyeon was getting married, you had fought every fiber in your body to ont get onto the first plane back home and share this moment of happiness with her. so you did something almost as stupid. you left a voice message.

“congrats on the wedding day! i hope that you and jihyo share a wonderful life ahead!” 

you had taken enough precaution to use a public phone, but you should’ve known that there was no stopping dahyun. 

“she told you,” you mutter, wondering why you’re even surprised, it was the obvious course of action. “that bitch…” 

“she’s the only one who’s ever understood,” dahyun whispers, and it’s then you see her properly, for the first time this evening. you see the helpless look in her brown pool and guilt washes over you like a tidal wave. “i came back from the hospital and you were gone.” 

you don’t say anything, not even looking at dahyun–you can’t—not with the memories of what left her in the hospital playing so vividly in your mind. 

“y/n?” dahyun’s voice wavers, but she powers on because she’s lived for seven years without any answers, all her memories shaken, ever since that day. “tell me what happened that day?” 

you mumble a curse. it was everything you never wanted, to relive those memories—and even worse— recount them to the girl who’d almost died in your hands. 

“you don’t remember anything?” 

dahyun shakes her head. “i remember we were in your room…we were,” she blushes at this point, because the sight of her at that moment, so lost in her own pleasure would have made anyone blush, “and the next thing i knew, i was waking up in the hospital.”

“convenient…” you mutter, irrationally angry with dahyun for only remembering the pretty, happy moments, while you were cursed to live with the guilt. 

“well,” you whisper, a slight evil glint in your glowing eyes, “let’s help you remember then.” 

you walk toward dahyun slowly, dispelling your jacket, and unbuttoning the top two buttons. it was such a loose, effortless motion, and dahyun knows that on some level this was what she desired, but for some reason she takes a step back. 

soon, dahyun finds herself pressed up against the wall, with nowhere to run or hide, not knowing why she’s thinking of that all of a sudden, with you looming over her, the beautiful eyes she remembers all dark and stormy. 

“why so scared, dahyun?” you ask, mockingly, “you don’t remember anything anyway.” 

it makes no sense, these tears welled up in dahyun’s eyes, because she’s dreamt of you for so long, of you like this, close to her. but something feels different, more sinister, and it makes her edgy. 

“shhh,” you whisper, as the first tear drop rolls its way down dahyun’s cheek, guilty on some level that you’re scaling her, but she’s so close to you, her heartbeat pouding so loud and alluring in your ears, that you were beyond just simply turned on. “i just want to pick up where we left off.” 

dahyun’s mouth responded eagerly to you despite her fear, body pressing up against you the way it remembers, lithe muscles against your slightly larger frame. 

you weren’t sure of what kind of seduction you were aiming for, because it felt like you were the one melting, your objectionable heart like putty in her hands, so lost in the exquisite sweetness of her mouth, that you think you’re quite willing to forget all of the threats you’ve just made, as long as she stayed like this, dahyun wrapped in your arms for eternity. 

“dahyun,” you groan, as dahyun’s legs rub together against the one leg put in between, testing your control further. 

“i missed you…” dahyun mumblers, in between kisses, unwilling to let go of your mouth for these much needed words. 

it was somewhere at this point, when you were so lost in this shameless gyrating, that you’re nipping on her lower lip roughly, willing herself to give into you, tongue sweeping into hers, that you were aware of the cold, metalice tinge of something in the kissand you don’t even need to think twice about what it really is. 

you stagger back, desperate to get away from her, away from the mistake that threatened to repeat itself all over again. 

you see dahyun’s eyes recover slowly from their glaze, her breathing still uneven.

she probably didn't even realize. 

but the panic seizes you, making you crumble to the floor, voice pleading “you need to leave, dahyun…please.” 

dahyun’s lips tremble, the undeniable feeling of rejection flooding through her. “is there…” she hesitates for a second, because it’s the only thing she could think of. “someone else?” 

it had been seven years after all. maybe dahyun really didn't have a place in your life anymore. 

there was something about the way her words hit you, deep and accusing, and so very broken, that the precious string of control was holding you steady, snapped. 

“is that what you think?” you whisper, wondering just how dahyun could deny the truth even after so long. 

“look at me, dahyun,” you say hoarsely. “i’m a monster.” because despite living among your own kind for the past seven years, you could never see it any other way. 

“this place you stumbled into, its filled with the whole lot of us filthy vampires. you’ve stubled right into the goddamn hellhole and i can hardly protect you from myself…” you take a deep breath. “how will i protect you from the others?” 

dahyun reels her head from your admission. yet, on some level, she can’t deny that she had harbored a suspicion, especially when she had found evidence of your residence in this area. 

“i don’t need your protection, y/n. i can hold my own, i–” 

“i almost killed you, dahyun,” you grit out, anger flashing in your bright eyes, like it always does, when she thinks she doesn’t need you, “that’s what happened seven years ago.” 

dahyun’s eyes widened, shock coursing it way through her. 

“and do you know why?” you ask bitterly. 

“because i wanted you. and here you are, right in front of me, and all i can think of is taking you. possessing you, all over again.” 

because that was the truth, that’s all you can think of, the softness of her lips as it brushed against yours, the tentative flick of her tongue, her sweet breath mingling with yours….

and the delicious scent of her blood, pumping through her veins. 

and all you want to feel them all…all over again.

dahyun’s eyes fall to the floor, tears streaming freely now. she knew what you were trying to do. 

but you would never understand, that for dahyun, you could say anything and it would never be enough to scare her away, 

because in dahyun’s eyes it was all the same, lifelessness, or a life without you, knowing that you hurt for her too, wants her in whatever twisted way that you do…it was just too fucking painful. 

and dahyun had already lived seven years of this hell. you were here now, in front of her, and she wasn’t willing to give up this glimpse of paradise, no matter how fucked up it was. 

she bit into her already split lip, the blood only too happy to be relieved of its container, smearing all over her lip. dahyun watched as your pupils dilated, blown by the sheer arousal of her act, and it was probably downright depraved, but she was pretty sure that if you kept looking at her like that, she would be alright. 

“if this is all you want,” dahyun whispers, walking toward you, the blood dripping in a beautiful red trail down to her chin as she sat down astride you. she angled her chin so that drop would fall perfectly into your waiting, parted mouth.

“So, a little Starly recently told me that you were thinking about taking a vacation to the Alola region. Do you have anything to say about that?” 

“Ah, well, there isn’t much more to say about it other than it’s true. Being champion is my passion, but everyone needs a break now and then. Besides, I’ve been meaning to check out the Battle Tree, and I’ve been sorely missing quality time with my wife.”

“The Battle Tree, huh? I’ve heard that the trainers are quite formidable, especially the battle legends leading the whole operation. I suppose that’s a kind of challenge you won’t find anywhere in Sinnoh!”

“Indeed, it’s been quite some time since an opponent has backed me into a corner. The thrill of battle spurs me on, but exploring the region is also a must. The island challenge feels a bit beneath me at this point, but the beaches are quite alluring, especially with beautiful company.

“And the apparel shops are simply darling. Most of the options are not my kind of style, but I can’t help but want to pick a few things up, anyways… Ah, but my darling beloved, now she would look wonderful in them. Afterall, she looks gorgeous in any and everything she wears.

“But whenever I see any kind of cute clothing, I can’t help but see her in them. Especially outfits for the warmer climates, since I see her in them so rarely with how cold Sinnoh is and all. Alola certainly won’t be the first time I end up purchasing clothing for her on a vacation, but that just leaves what I should get for her this time…”

“Oh yes, I must agree. Alolans are quite fashionable! From adorable to elegant… everything seems to look good. Your wife sure is a lucky woman to have someone such as yourself as a vacationing companion. Is there anything else about this trip you are looking forward to?”

“Besides that… I am looking forward to exploring the ruins. From what I’ve read, there aren’t many mysteries surrounding them, especially in comparison to ruins in other regions, but I don’t think I will be able to keep myself away from them…”

The TV remote clatters to the couch cushion with a soft thud. You're not sure why you keep up with Cynthia’s interviews when they always end with you becoming far too flustered for your own good. This was far from the worst she’s ever gushed before, and yet it still gets you all the same.

And speak of the devil, the moment you lean back into the cushions, the front door creeps open, followed by the gentle clacking of heels, accompanied by less-gentle thuds. She leans over the couch, arms laying over your chest and head perched atop of yours.

“Hello, dear…” She practically purrs. You can’t see her face, but you can hear the sweet smile on her lips from her tone alone. Garchomp sidles up to you, forcing your arm over her flat head in the hope that you would pet her. You mumble out a ‘hello’, yet to overcome your embarrassment.

“What were you watching? I could have sworn I heard the TV on when I was unlocking the door…”

“Your interview from the other day.”

“Oh, you saw it already? I wasn’t expecting to be asked about Alola, but I suppose it was going to come up eventually.”

“I, uh, just caught it, actually and… (Azelf, give me strength) I turned it off after you got off track talking about… me. I know that you think very highly of me but… it gets embarrassing watching you talk like that… especially when Arceus knows how many people are going to see it.”

“Aww, really? And here I thought I managed to tone the gushing down for once.” You know that Cynthia gushes because of how deeply she loves you, which makes your heart pound with both love and embarrassment, but the teasing tone lacing her words allows the embarrassment to outweigh the former.

“Besides, it’s not as if I was lying… I’m looking forward to seeing your adorable self on all sorts of tropical backdrops.” She moves her hands to your face, squishing your cheeks softly. 

“Is it so wrong of me to want everyone to know how much I care about you? I just can’t help myself when I’m so easily reminded of you… “ Her voice wavers from teasing to soft, each word barely above a whisper.

“The fact that I get to call you, someone so beautiful and caring and intelligent, my own… It doesn’t feel real sometimes, that someone as wonderful as you exists, and is willing to stay by my side, no less!”

Her words feel far too much, far too praise-filled, borderline reverent. You place your hands on her own, feeling the heat radiating off your face through her skin. Your body was boiling, yet you couldn’t help but yearn for her warmth, both her body and her words. Yet all too soon, she begins to pull away.

“Well then, how about I get cleaned up and pick us up something to eat? It’s only fair that I treat you to something nice after putting you through so much embarrassment, right?” You can only respond with a feeble nod.

She leans over and gives you a quick peck on the forehead before pulling back completely, presumably going to your bedroom to clean up, leaving you to huddle into yourself (and the Garchomp practically sprawled out across your lap). 

In interviews, Cynthia would always find new ways to embarrass you with her off-track side tangents, and in private, she would always find new ways to set your heart aflame.