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targaryenrealnessdarling · 6 months

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Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!”

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.”

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.”

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?”

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

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oscar's girl * ls2

logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

notes: guys ive been writing this since 10pm girl it's mf 4am now please sue me i'm sorry this was a long wind up im sorry but dont worry i will be writing a part two HELL YEAHHHH

(logan's girl) // |(f1 masterlist)

oscar and logan, logan and oscar. that's how it's been since they had run into each other during a karting weekend in the uk a couple of years ago. oscar had approached him with a toothy grin and a packet of candy after seeing logan walk around by himself for weekends at a time.

maintaining the friendship isn't the easiest of feats: logan lives in south florida, while oscar lives on the opposite side of the globe in melbourne. they don't see each other for very long, and very often in a year. but, it always feels like no time has passed when they get together after months of separation.

but being apart for the majority of the year means the window they've got to keep an ongoing conversation is small. but their string of texts has always come in consistently every day, responses from the other flooding in the early hours of the morning and sometimes in the dead of the night.

that was, until, logan woke up one warm thursday morning to an empty and dry phone. he brushed it off, taking it that oscar just had a long day at school. perhaps too much had happened in the day to simply text at the end of the day. so he went to school as he usually did with his best friend in the back of his mind.

but one day turned into two, and suddenly he hadn't heard from oscar in almost a week.

logan had sent one follow-up text. a simple 'hey' to nudge oscar into a response. which did help, because him and oscar surprisingly texted for a short thirty-minute window before the australian called it quits on their conversation to get some sleep for the next school day.

until oscar goes radio silent again for the next three days. so, he goes to the one other person in oscar's life that he knows personally.

"hey mum," logan starts, walking into the kitchen hesitantly. he's been dancing around the idea of asking his mum for help to see if oscar's even still alive and has not been replaced by some clone that's somehow less chatty than the one he said goodbye to at the airport four months ago.

"yeah, baby?" his mother stands up from her prior hunched-over position at the fridge to smile at him. she opens her arms as he approaches her hesitantly, fiddling with his thumbs. "what's wrong?"

he hums, second-guessing his decision to bring his mother into the situation. perhaps oscar just no longer wants to be friends with him anymore? but if that were the case, oscar definitely would have said something to his face and he's just been quiet. "um, it's just oscar," he starts softly, dropping his gaze to his feet, "can you ask his mum if he's alright?"

"of course," she smiles, letting go of him. she walks around the kitchen counter to find her phone. "why, did something happen to him recently? break another wrist?"

logan shakes his head, pressing his lips together. "no, we haven't been talking as much as we used to. i'm just worried that something might have happened to him."

a blush creeps up his cheeks when his mother's lips pout as she tries to hide her smile. "aw, logan! that's very cute of you. and very thoughtful," she teases as she starts to type on her phone. "i'm texting his mum right now. you hang tight and i'll tell you when she gets up to text me, okay?"

"okay."

he tries not to linger around his mum's circle of personal space for very long, afraid to let on that he's more concerned than he should be for the status of his friendship. to combat the anxiety of potentially losing one of his best friends, he locks himself in his room and plays video games all afternoon.

he had been in the middle of a game in call of duty when his phone started to ring. he glances at from his position on his bed and perks up with oscar's picture taking over the screen of his phone.

he immediately pauses the game, tossing the controller to the side of his bed. he slides his finger across the screen to pick up the call and oscar, visibly tired, pops up on his screen with a small smile.

"hey! my mum just got off the phone with your mum," oscar whispers with a smile. "said you missed me, mate?"

"no, i was just concerned cause you've been off the grid for a while," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "i never said i missed you."

"well, i'm sorry for disappearing on you, mate," oscar drops his gaze and a small smile creeps up on his face. in the dim orange lighting of his bedroom in melbourne, logan can almost make out the redness coming through on oscar's cheeks. "there's a reason for that. it's not because i don't wanna be friends anymore. i've just been a little... preoccupied."

logan tilts his head. he rolls over to his stomach and holds the phone up to his face. "what do you mean? more preoccupied than usual?"

"yeah," oscar giggles. "i uh... i've got-" he clears his throat, the slight embarrassment getting the better of him. he lifts his eyes from his thighs and moves the phone slightly further away. "i got a girlfriend."

logan furrows his eyebrows, throwing his head back slightly in shock. "what?"

"yeah," oscar repeats with a hint of a giggle in his response. "i've been seeing her for a while. do you mind if i tell you about her a little bit?"

"really?" logan smiles, squinting an eye. truthfully, he's finding it a little bit hard to believe that oscar's suddenly got a girlfriend. they're literally always on the phone with one another, texting and updating one another on things that they've got no idea about in their day-to-day lives.

not once has oscar come up to him about a girl before, much less developing a crush on somebody. "this is a bit sudden, isn't it? like, where did this girl come from?"

"she's new," oscar smiles. "so, do you wanna know about her or not?"

"alright, fire away, lover boy."

they talk - no, oscar talks - for the next hour about the girl that's recently enrolled into his private school. all logan can do is giggle and smile with oscar at how their relationship had gone down.

even after oscar has hung up, logan still doesn't really know much about the girl he's spent the better part of the past hour talking about. oscar simply refers to her as 'my girl'.

the next time oscar and logan reunite in the uk is at the end of the year. their mothers made an effort to get flights close to one another, letting them run into each other at the mcdonald's in the airport unknowingly while getting food before heading to the hotel.

"dude!" logan cheers, smacking oscar on the shoulder roughly.

"huh?" the smaller boy ahead of him looks up from his phone, turning his head to be greeted by a familiar pair of green eyes. he immediately locks his phone and slips it into his back pocket as realisation slowly dawns on him. "logan!"

"too busy texting on your phone to even notice i was behind you the entire time," logan scoffs jokingly as a hand comes up to pat him on the shoulder.

oscar presses his lips together as a blush creeps up on his cheeks. "sorry. i was texting my girl!"

"my girl this, my girl that," logan rolls his eyes with a smile. "did she not come along with you?"

"no, mate. she's off for a holiday with her family," oscar shrugs, biting down on his lip.

for the rest of the trip, logan will often catch Oscar cheesing at his phone. it doesn't matter when or where: they could be in their hotel room watching a movie, on the track waiting for the race to start, or while they're having a casual chat before they go to bed.

one question haunts logan for the rest of their stay in the uk: who is this girl?

though, it seems that logan is never destined to meet this girl that his best friend spent an entire year gushing about. because at three in the morning on a random saturday in may, his phone buzzes with oscar's picture taking over his entire screen again.

"we broke up."

logan would stay up all morning with oscar that day, letting oscar choke back on tears for the next thirty minutes about the girl that simply packed her bags and moved halfway across the world from him. they would never speak of this day again, even after they both relocated to the uk together to start their junior career.

oscar never speaks of the girl he once devoted his entire self to, but logan often finds himself thinking of her whereabouts and how their relationship had changed oscar.

oscar never uttered the phrase ‘my girl’ when he started dating his long-time girlfriend, lily zneimer. now that they’re in f1 together, logan has at least gotten to know this girlfriend.

he is very well aware that she exists: he’s talked to and touched lily. but the question still lingers in the back of his mind about the unnamed girl, even years later.

the thought of her pops up randomly in his mind as he approaches the paddocks for his sophomore year in the sport. that was prompted by the sight of oscar also making his way into the paddocks slightly ahead of him.

“mate, i heard you’ve got a special guest in your side of the garage today,” oscar teases, stepping away from logan as he reaches out to tap his card into the reader.

“what? who told you that?” logan scoffs, passing through the gantries as he throws his head back in disbelief. “ugh, alex needs to shut his trap. i bet he told lando then lando told you.”

“no, your mum told my mum,” oscar laughs. he nudges his friend with his shoulder. “why? are you shy?”

“piss off.” logan giggles as he drops his head, shaking his head as he bites back a smile. “i’ll see you later, mate.”

“oh, i’ll see you later alright. i’ve got to see who’s making you blush like that,” the australian giggles, shoving him in the direction of the williams racing home.

logan chases his shoulder, managing to land a soft smack before he completely walks away. sure, logan had been seeing somebody for a while, and this weekend was the one he had singled out for you to come out and watch his race.

you were scheduled to come in about thirty minutes for now, about twenty minutes before he is supposed to disappear from the garage for an interview panel.

and he’s excited. this is his first time having his personal guest, who isn’t his mother or brother, in his side of the garage. sure, getting halfsies of alex’s girlfriend from the garage next to him is still something, but it’s just not the same.

so, he tries to pass the next thirty minutes as well as he can. and he does everything: he terrorises his team in the garage, then james sitting his office, then alex in his driver’s room.

still ten minutes left on the clock.

kinda early, but i’m here! :)

logan almost jumps out of his skin at the notification that pops up along with your name. he swallows back the excited scream as he runs down the stairs, pushing himself past alex and his girlfriend who were gathered downstairs with james.

logan swings the glass doors open, slumping his shoulders and feeling a wave of happiness in his chest when he sees you standing shyly by the stairs.

you look very cozy: wrapped in a dark puffer jacket and your bag barely hanging onto your shoulder. he almost wants to disappear with you into his driver’s room and cuddle all day. to hell with his commitments, even if it means fighting off his pr officer.

“hey, you!” logan beams, perking up as he jogs down the few steps to where you were. “you should have texted me when you reached the paddocks. i could have picked you up.”

immediately, he bends down to take your bag into his hands and then he pulls you in for a warm hug. “thanks for making it out this weekend.”

“of course. how can i decline a chance to watch you in your element?” you smile, leaning back slightly and wrapping your arms around him. “thank you for reserving a pass for me.”

“absolutely!” logan cheers, pulling away. “let me bring you inside and introduce you to the team. you don’t mind, right?”

“it’s my pleasure,” you smile.

he puts a hand on your back as he guides you up the racing home, pushing the door open and beckons for you to walk in before him.

“ah, lily, you were right! it’s neither his brother nor his mum that’s making a special appearance this weekend!” alex booms from deep inside the hospitality, throwing his arms in the air. “mr american man got a girlfriend over the winter break?”

“shut up, mate,” logan scowls, moving his hand up to hold your shoulder protecticely. “but, yes. this is… my girlfriend.”

he shyly looks down at you, catching your eye as you glance up at him. you’ve only recently gotten into a relationship with logan; fresh, only six weeks into the title.

“oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” lily steps away from alex’s grasp and holds a hand out to you, “i’m lily. welcome to the paddocks.”

“hi, i’m (y/n). it's so nice to finally meet you,” you smile, taking her hand. “and alex! logan talks about you guys really often. i’m a big fan.”

“oh, logan talks about me,” alex teases in a laugh, also extending his hand out to you. “good things only, i hope.”

“hey, i told you not to tell him that,” logan says through his teeth, giving you a warning stare with wide eyes.

“it’s my first time meeting him, babe,” you laugh to logan, taking his hand in yours to shake.

"oh, can i tell you about logan's antics last year in the paddocks?" alex asks you excitedly, hopping one step toward you.

"or," lily laughs, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend to steer him away from you, "let's let her settle down with logan. you can terrorise her after the day has ended, alex."

"aw, but i've got lists of embarrassing things about him," alex sighs with a frown, though he lets lily guide him away from the new couple. he cranes his neck and grins at you. "i will see you later! i'll prepare a list!"

"so we're avoiding him later," logan smiles at you, now guiding you towards the steps that would lead you to some privacy. "have you run into anyone yet? have you seen liam yet?"

you shake your head. "not yet. but i hope you'll bring me to him so that i can get to say hi? i haven't seen him since we bumped into them at disneyland in december."

"yeah, i know. he's been asking about you." he opens the door to his driver's room to let you in. "so, i've got to run for a bit. i've got an interview panel. it really shouldn't take too long. i'm sorry."

"sorry? what are you sorry for?" you giggle, taking a seat in the corner of the room. your eyes scan the small room, taking note of the endless shirts riddled with williams' logo hung in the corner.

"i don't wanna just leave you here by yourself," logan slumps his shoulders with a frown, resting his hands on his knees as he bends over to meet your eyes. "i feel bad."

"oh, i'll be okay." you wave off his concern and lean in, pressing a chase kiss to his lips. "just text me when you're done. i'll go downstairs and find lily and get to know her better."

"that's a good idea! you guys should really go around the paddocks. there's a concert somewhere too, make the best out of my pass, okay?" logan smiles, his hand cupping your chin. he brushes his thumb over your cheek as he towers over you. "text me if you get lost."

"i won't get lost," you smile, standing up from the seat. "i actually haven't had my coffee yet. do you know anywhere i can get a cup of coffee?"

"oh, lily should know where," logan hums, tapping his bottom lip as he heads for his door. "let me get her for you."

"logan." the firmness in your voice stops logan in his tracks, turning around with curious eyes. "i can find lily on my own. i'll be okay - i'll see you later."

"are you sure? i just feel bad that i'll leave you all by yourself," logan whispers, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too. but you've got a job to do," you giggle, walking out of his room with your hands wrapped around his arm. "i won't disappear. i'll meet you wherever when you're done. just text me."

"fine."

so logan goes and does his media commitments with alex in tow. and lily clearly had the same idea as you, meeting you at the front doors as alex walked away with logan.

"logan mentioned you were looking for coffee?" lily beams, quickly finding herself by your side as she leads you around the paddocks. "i know the best racing home to get a good cup of, but we might have to sneak in."

"sneak in?" you tilt your head. "is that even allowed?"

"yeah, carmen will get us in! mercedes has got the best cup of coffee to offer around here," lily giggles. "and, you should meet the rest of the girls. what are you going to do for the rest of the evening while the boys are out doing their jobs?"

"i suppose you're right," you shrug with a small smile. "but it's my first time here. should i really be caught sneaking into another team's home?"

"ah, you're with me," lily smiles. "i've got you."

so you actually get your cup of coffee in the back of the mercedes' racing home, now finding yourself huddled together with carmen and lily. they had asked you how you had come to meet logan, especially after the driver had spent most of it behind closed doors and rarely showed himself to the cameras.

it was a pretty simple story. you had been on vacation in new york with a group of your friends, minding your business in the corner of a crowded bar. truthfully, you didn't even want to be there, but it was your best friend's birthday trip. you couldn't say no even if you insisted.

logan had caught sight of you pretending to drink shots your friends were handing you towards the end of the night. eventually, you wound up with about six filled shot glasses hiding behind you, desperately hidden from your friend's prying eyes.

he thought it was funny, and had offered to finish them for you. in exchange for a promise that they were not laced with poison.

you had hit it off, and logan asked you out on a date. while you were unfortunately flying off to another state in a week, he had taken up the challenge and took you out on a date the very next night in the heart of new york city.

the rest is history, as they say.

"does logan actually ever say no to free alcohol?" carmen jokes, blowing into her cup of hot coffee. "wait! there's a concert happening not too far from here. do you guys know who's performing?"

"it should be on the race's instagram page," lily sighs, swiftly taking her phone out of her pocket. "but aren't the guys finishing up their interviews by now?"

"it's a long weekend. would they really notice if we weren't here for one break that they have?" carmen points out knowingly with a smile. "and we've got to show her," carmen gestures towards you, "around. is this your first race weekend?"

you nod shyly, taking a sip from your coffee. "but it's okay, really! don't go out of the way for me."

"that's silly." lily runs a hand through her hair and sighs, resting a hand on her hip. "okay, so, let's meet the guys near the pit building. when they're called in for their driver's briefing, we make a run for the concert area, okay?"

"that sounds like a much better compromise." carmen turns to you with a playful smile. "we will teach you how to make the most out of logan's race pass. you're going to have so much fun with us."

"after the concert, we'll head upstairs to the viewing pen and get a couple of drinks," lily smiles. she glances down at her phone. "oh, seems like they're already done. you guys wanna head there together?"

"sure!"

you start backpedalling from your position, ready to follow the two veteran paddock enjoyers. that seemed like a good idea until your back collides with something - someone - and suddenly you've got mildly hot coffee all over your top.

this is the one time you regret unzipping your jacket to let a bit of the cold in.

"i'm so sorry."

"it's fine," you say with a soft whine, turning around before being flashed by a bright orange jacket and a pair of brown eyes. "it's..." you tilt your head. "do i know you from somewhere?"

the shape of his polite smile and the way his brown eyes look into you are all very familiar. but you just can't quite place a finger on it.

perhaps it's because he looks a lot different from the last time you saw him. you were a wee fourteen-year-old the last time you had seen him before you were forced to pack your bags and move away because of your dad's job.

but, as a kid, you generally did a lot of moving around because of that said job. now you're just trying to single him out by geographic location from the many friends you've made and lost contact with over the years.

"(y/n)?" oscar's eyebrows shoot up, your name coated thickly with an australian accent as his hand lingers on your shoulder.

"oh, you two know each other?" lily excitedly asks, looking between the two younger individuals.

who seem to be very caught up in their unexpected reunion. you'd be shocked too if the girl you had thought was the love of your life shows up at your big boy job with your colleagues' girlfriends with a mercerdes coffee cup in hand.

"yeah, we uh," oscar takes a step away from you and puts his hands in the pockets of his team jacket, "we used to go to school together. in melbourne."

"right," you sigh in relief, finally being able to place him in a particular timeline of your life. you finally remember him: oscar piastri, the school heartthrob with a charming smile and friendly eyes. he had even asked you to be his girlfriend at some point, dating for the better part of a year before you had to leave melbourne with your family. "oscar, right? i'm sorry, my memory's a little bit hazy."

"no, yeah," oscar agrees, scanning you head to toe. "it's been... how long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"very long. it's been years since i left melbourne." you lower your cup and readjust your jacket, trying to hide the prominent wet patch of coffee at the collar of your inner shirt.

but the longer you stare at him, the more the memories come rushing back to the time you spent with the best friend you had made in melbourne for those years. you can vividly remember oscar picking you out in pe to be his teammate, sneaking out of homeroom to grab a juice pack together right down the hall.

you had completely forgotten the tears you shed that day you had to leave melbourne. you swore that you would keep in contact with the warmest brown eyes your eyes have ever seen, but you had simply gotten too busy settling into the new environment that had been thrown at you.

before you knew it, you had dropped your phone into the lake when you were out with your friends and you lost oscar's phone number. you never found a way to reconnect with him, and eventually, he had joined the long list of friends that you had forgotten about.

"i," oscar laughs, "what are you doing here in the paddocks? are you friends with them?"

"no," you straighten your back with a polite smile, "i'm with somebody - logan."

and oscar's never wanted to ever tear apart the paddocks' walls with his own hands before. what do you mean his girl is here with his best friend?

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

801 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 7 months

Note

Ooooh I would love to see Prosecco h taking care of his pretty girl when she is sick :( and maybe she doesn’t tell him she’s sick but he finds out and is like 🥺

sooooo! I changed this just a little but I hope you still like it! thank you sm for requesting!!!!

wordcount: 7.5k

—————

(Y/N) smiled, listening back to the voicemail Harry left for her this morning.

Those small gifts had become her favorite thing to wake up to, eager to hear his voice and know that he was thinking of her even when he had been in a rush to get to the office. More often than not, she was greeted with a stream of consciousness message about all of the things he was doing or needed to get done before he could head out, along with tender declarations that he would talk to her soon, and that she was on his mind. It was never anything particularly grand or cloyingly romantic, but (Y/N) saved every single one of them. Hearing his voice was a part of her morning routine now, she couldn't go without.

Though she was just as in love with this recording as the others, there was a slight sticky quality to his voice this morning. It was extra thick, seemingly heavy on his tongue as if he had a stuffy nose. But, he didn't mention anything about feeling under the weather.

She would have to check up on him later, she decided. Send him a text or call him on his lunch to make sure it wasn't anything more than allergies or those cold symptoms that seemed to pop up in the morning before a cup of coffee could flush out his sinuses.

Once the voicemail ended, Harry finishing with a small "I love you", (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear, scanning through the rest of the notifications she ignored in favor of hearing his voice. There was nothing more to read than a couple of flags reminding her the schedule she had input on her phone and some social media messages from the girls she was growing closer to from her classes.

Bypassing those minute messages, she pulled up Harry's contact thread. Typing out a message, she reveled in the soft cushioning of her bed with her boyfriend on her mind.

i just listened to ur voicemail🤍 i hope ur day gets less busy but I love u too soooo much

also it sounded like u were a little sick over the phone are u okay?:(

Starting her day slowly, (Y/N) took her time getting ready, checking her phone here and there in hopes of receiving a response from Harry. It wasn't until she had a cardigan draped over her shoulders and bag on her shoulder, walking out the door, that her phone vibrated.

Though she knew that Harry would scold her if he saw how distracted she was crossing the parking lot to her car, phone in hand, she didn't really care. Especially when it was his notification that she was enamored with.

H🤍 My day's already getting better since hearing from you, love. Would it be alright if I call you on my lunch? I miss you.

No, I'm not sick, just allergies. Thank you for checking on me🩷

Her heart bubbled in her chest as she climbed into her car, a bashful grin splitting her cheeks. She could hear his messages in his voice, lingering over the soft sentiment that he missed her. Before pulling out of the parking lot she made sure to let him know that she was more than okay with him giving her a call later, attaching multiple hearts and kisses to the text.

She hoped she made him smile like he did for her.

—————

Blindly reaching for her phone to cancel her alarm, (Y/N) barely cracked her eyes open when she brought the device to her face. The time blinked up top, an early class alarm having pulled her from her dreams. Thursdays were always the worst day of the week in her eyes; she had to wake up extra early, wait around on campus after her morning classes ended because the hour-long gap between her afternoon courses was too short to head home, and most of her deadlines were set for 11:59pm that night. She dreaded starting her day when it came to Thursdays.

Allowing herself a moment of reprieve, taking an extra long blink of her eyes, (Y/N) finally sat up with the motivating thought of seeing what Harry had left her in his voicemail.

Blinking the sleep from her gaze, she swiped through her phone with sleep-shaky fingers. She absently pulled up her call log, expecting to see a missed call from Harry, attached with a voicemail to start her day with.

When there was no red bubble denoting a notification or a text message informing her of a missed voicemail, (Y/N) blinked extra hard in hopes of clearing her vision. When she recovered, coming to her senses more and more, there was still nothing to be seen.

Harry hadn't called her.

A pout formed on her lips. He never missed calling her in the morning. Since this had become a regular thing, there was never a morning Harry missed greeting her, starting both of their days off with a sweet message. She hoped he was alright.

Pulling up his text thread, she typed out a quick message.

good morning honey ! are you doing okay? i didn't get a voicemail from u so I wanted to make sure !! miss and love u so much call me when you can:)))))

When the receipts didn't quickly change to read, she took in a sigh. While it wasn't like him, there was a possibility that he woke up too late in the morning to give her a call like usual and didn't have time. There was always the chance that he had taken a late night hours before, working hard and allowing him to lie in this morning.

(Y/N) was willing to convince herself of either scenario, pushing her imagination along with the terrible ideas sprouting. She just hoped he was okay.

—————

Sitting in the quad, breathing in the first airs of autumn with her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) didn't rush away from her textbook when she felt her phone vibrate. Finishing off her notes, she waited a moment longer, rereading what she had transcribed before plucking up her phone. The name on her notification had her heart skipping a beat

H🤍

Sorry, sweetheart. I woke up late this morning, and have been rushing around the offie all day. I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm so so sorry. Maybe I can call you tonight, on my way home? Love you so much.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, reading over his message. Honestly, a chunk of worry she hadn't realized she had been holding onto evaporated. The reassurance that he was okay, and none of the haywire scenarios that she had forced to the back of her mind had even been a little true, was freeing. He was just having a Thursday, just like she was.

don't be sorry im just happy youre okay!!! im sorry youre having a rough day:( is there anything i can do to help?????

yes yes please call me later:( I miss you:(

love you moooooooore :)

The time between the moment she had sent off her last message to the receipts flipping from delivered to read was almost instantaneous. The three grey dots popped up on the side of her screen just after.

H🤍

You don't need to do anything for me, sweetheart, you're already helping. My afternoon is going to be busy, but I should be out of here around the normal time so I'll call you around then. I miss you too.

It didn't feel right not to call you this morning, but I didn't have time. I think it threw me off.

Love you most:)

Laying back on the grass, music still fluttering through her speakers, (Y/N) smiled up at her phone as she held it over her face. It was always especially cute when he would add little emoticons or emojis to his messages.

i missed hearing u this morning too but its okay !!!! don't stress urself out too much this afternoon though just call me when you can 🩷🩷🩷🩷

i have to get to class now but ill talk to you later :))))

Harry's response came in the form of a string of hearts being sent her way, the messages making her smile before she pocketed her phone. Now that the anxious urgency she had before was now melted away, she took her time gathering her things and heading towards her next class.

Everything was turning up, she decided. Thursday was almost over, Harry was okay, and she now could look forward to a phone call from him this evening.

All she had to do was get through this final class.

—————

"Hi, honey," (Y/N) smiled, pressing her phone to her ear as soon as she saw the call blinking across the screen.

On the other line, there was a slight rustle. "Hi, love," Harry finally murmured, his breath coming out heavy, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she sang, closing her laptop lid in favor of focusing on Harry, "Just waiting for you. Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," he sighed once more, "Been a long day. Sorry to keep you waiting."

(Y/N) shook her head even though she was well aware of the fact he couldn't see her. "Don't be sorry, H, stop. I'm sorry you had a bad day, what happened?"

Before he could answer, a rattling cough was heard over the receiver. Harry seemingly pulled the phone away from himself, the sound growing more distant before he returned a beat later. "Sorry, I jus—"

"Are you getting sick?" She didn't quite believe his explanation of allergies anymore.

"No, love," Harry muttered, his voice suddenly sounding thicker than (Y/N) remembered, a sniffle of his nose sounding a moment later. "I've jus' had a long day is all. 'M a little run down."

That didn't ease her any. (Y/N)'s lips thinned, a pinch appearing in between her brows. "It's okay if you're getting sick, H. I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself."

"'S not like that, sweetheart, I promise. After I get through tomorrow, everything will calm down and I'll be fine. Don't worry over me, okay?"

Every word that fell from his lips sounded less and less convincing. He definitely sounded sick with the way he gummed around his words through a thick throat, his breathing coming a bit heavier as if he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his reassurances sounded exactly like someone who was getting sick but didn't want to admit it would say.

Harry took her silence for exactly what it was: her disbelief. "(Y/N), love, I really am jus' tired. Thank you for worrying about me, but y'don't have to. 'M alright."

She swallowed. She supposed he really could be experiencing those cold symptoms for no other reason than the fact that he's tired, and has been going through a couple of long nights. With the weekend coming up, she too could argue that she wasn't feeling well enough to finish out her week, for no other reason than she would prefer to sleep in and do nothing instead of attending class.

"Okay," she relented, "Sorry to interrogate you, I've just never heard you sound like this before."

"I know, 's okay. But I promise I'm alright. I still need to take you to the aquarium this weekend, remember?"

(Y/N) immediately brightened up at the reminder of their weekend plans. "Yeah, so you better not be sick then. I have to see the sharks."

"Trust me, I know. You've said that almost every day since we booked the tickets." His voice took on a faux-exasperated tone, as if he couldn't wait to be done with their plans for no other reason than she would stop bringing them up.

A peal of laughter left her lips as she curled up on her couch, getting more comfortable now that she was talking with him. "You're so mean," she bubbled, "This is what I get for worrying about you? Maybe you should be sick and I'll just go alone."

"As if you'd drive yourself there."

Yeah, he was definitely feeling fine.

—————

While she was disappointed, (Y/N) wasn't surprised to see the lack of voicemail left for her when she rolled over on Friday morning. On the phone the night before, Harry had told her that he had another early morning coming, and it wasn't a secret just how rundown he was feeling. She had hoped, in the back of her mind, that he could be feeling well enough to send her a message in the morning anyway, but she couldn't blame him for opting to sleep a little bit longer before heading out the door.

Nonetheless, she still sent him his own good morning text, hoping it would brighten his day and remind him that it was finally Friday. He'd made it through the week and could now look forward to their plans.

morning honey!! i hope you have a better day but its friday!!!! we get to see each other tomorrow!!!!! text me when you can love uuuuuuu

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she proceeded to start her own day. Maybe, on the way to campus, she'd stop and get herself a matcha latte. It really had been a long week.

—————

just went to study in the quad and it started raining AS SOON as I sat down:( I had to run and take all my stuff back to my car:( and I think I forgot my favorite pen on accident :(

Pressing send, (Y/N) added her new lunchtime message to the string of blue messages she'd already sent that had gone unanswered. Even the read receipts hadn't flipped to anything other than delivered since her morning text hours ago. Of course there had been times where he hadn't gotten back to her by the time she had sent another text, as well as the other way around, this was just slightly out of the range of normal.

Being with him for almost a year allowed her to learn some of his schedule. She knew what his day to day must look like, just from the fact that he usually texted her, called her, or made plans around certain times of the day. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that around eleven-thirty he took a small break from his morning paperwork because that was when he would send her a message if he could. His lunch was always placed around twelve to one, something she learned because that was when he would ask if she wanted to come visit him, or he'd place a call to her while he ate. He left the office at the same time everyday, sometimes a little earlier and sometimes a little later.

With the time blinking past one-thirty with no phone call, text, or even the reading of her messages, (Y/N) didn't want to be worried but she was.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong, she figured. Her list of scenarios started with his phone breaking beyond repair, and ended with her sitting in a hospital waiting room. More than half of her worries were irrational, but that was unfortunately how her brain operated at times.

Without second guessing, (Y/N) pulled up Harry's contact before pressing the call button. As it rang and rang, she knew what the outcome was going to bet but she still hung on to the final trilling noise until it finally ended. The generic voicemail greeting played in her ear before she tapped the red end button.

Rationalizing herself, (Y/N) had to remember the way he had talked about how busy today was going to be for him. This week was all about prepping for a large conference meeting that would be taking place on Monday, including hours of paperwork, presentation reviews, and running in and out of meetings with other executives. While she thought she knew his day-to-day schedule rather well, that didn't mean that day like this wouldn't force him to deter. It was more than just a possibility that he really was that busy that he wouldn't be able to get back to her before he left the office.

He would call her when he could.

—————

goodnight! i hope youre okay honey just text me when you can

I love u

(Y/N) wasn't even sure how long she looked at her phone screen, waiting for the receipts to change when she sent her final message for the day. The thread consisted of blue messages she had sent through the day, no response in between. Her call log had three unanswered calls on the list, all outgoing to Harry.

It wasn't until six p.m. rolled around without a single response from him that she was unable to fight back the worst case scenarios she had rolling around her head. This just wasn't like him. He never stayed that late at the office. There was no way that through over twelve hours, that he didn't have a single second to even react to one of her texts, even just a short one telling her that he was okay but would be staying late.

Dropping the phone to fall in her sheets, her hands limp at her side, (Y/N) stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Even if all it came down to was that he was so overworked that he fell asleep as soon as he made it home, that thought didn't exactly soothe her. It was scary thinking that something could have been so intense—work, meetings, preparations for the following week—that he didn't even have the mind to text her during his lunch. She just hoped he was alright.

She'd give it until the morning, she decided. Sunday was their aquarium date, and if she didn't hear from him by lunchtime tomorrow, then she was going to go to his apartment and see what was going on.

(In a very small part of her mind, a place she had shoved to the very back after everything with Andrew and Iris had been flushed away, she had the insecure thought that he could possibly, maybe, perhaps be ghosting her. While she could never imagine Harry, the king of communication, to go the route of ignoring her as a breakup option, that logic didn't necessarily win out against irrational insecurity).

Hopefully, giving him the night to rest and recuperate would be exactly what he needed, allowing him to get back on his feet tomorrow and reach out to her with everything she missed the day before.

Now, she just needed to figure out how she was going to get to sleep.

—————

There was no way she was going to get to sleep tonight.

Her brain was too preoccupied to settle, that much was apparent. She pretended as if she wasn't waiting for a notification to vibrate her phone with the way she picked up the book she was borrowing from Harry, barely reading any of the pages. She scrolled through her socials, distracting herself with videos and posts or whatever was fed to her to keep her from pulling down the top bar and checking for any messages she could have blinked through. More than once during her attempts at staying away from her phone, rolling away from her night stand and nestling into the sheets, she reached for it anyway.

This cyclical routine led her to stare up at the ceiling at one in the morning, phone at her side lest she get a message and not hear the buzz for whatever reason.

The later the hours got, the more her brain went wild. What if something happened and no one knew to contact her? What if he was really trying to break up with her through ghosting? What if no one even knew he was hurt in the first place and Harry was alone, scared? What if, what if, what if.

Throwing her comforter off her body, (Y/N) sat up in haste. She fit her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants before she was trekking through her apartment, heading to her kitchen. Flicking on the light, she stalked towards her cabinets as if she wasn't itching to grab her phone. Pulling out a glass, she filled it with water and took a long sip. Hoping the cold temperature would soothe her brain and settle the unease in her stomach, she stayed in her kitchen, leaning up against her oven, as she drained the glass.

When there was nothing left in the glass aside from a few drops and her anxiety was still flitting through her veins, (Y/N) felt restless.

What else was there to do? There was no way to fix this problem, but she couldn't see herself getting over it enough to actually get any rest. Her body had convinced herself something was wrong even if she tried to reason with herself otherwise. There was no way she was going to be able to beat out the quivering her stomach and rattling of her brain with logic.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked once more for a notification that wasn't there. Swiping through to the text thread itself, she saw it was still the same string of unanswered blue texts sitting in the black void.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shifted her weight where she stood.

Would she be crazy to even consider going to his house right now?

She, unfortunately, couldn't stray her mind very far from the awful possibility that something could have happened, that Harry could be needing someone, and that was why he hadn't been able to contact her. It was a completely irrational, worst-case-scenario mindset, but one that couldn't be tamped down for very long.

(Y/N) just wanted to make sure he was alright.

That was all she could think of when she pushed off of the counter, heading towards her bedroom with a purpose. She tugged on a heavy hoodie, the oversized shape blending with her sweatpants, before she slid on a pair of slippers. She pulled her hair out of her face into a messy twist, chunky clip on the back of her head. Grabbing her keys and bag, she didn't give herself enough time to second-guess anything before she was beelining towards the front door.

By the time she made it to her car, key in the engine and dash lights illuminating the space, (Y/N) was convinced she'd lost it.

Nonetheless, she backed out of her space and started towards Harry's home.

—————

Using the key Harry had given her months back, (Y/N) let herself into his house. The lights were off throughout the space. His shoes were in a neat line along the wall, his jacket carefully hung up, and his work bag set up by the door like usual. Everything was immaculately perfect, as if he took his time and didn't rush a single step. (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth.

She set her bag down by his, kicked her slippers off the same, before peering around the living room. His kitchen was clean as far as she could tell, no crumbs or even takeout containers on the counters.

Her stomach sunk as she scaled his stairs. She was officially acting insane, wasn't she? Harry was obviously fine, and she just couldn't let him have a day to himself, could she? This is what happens when she obsesses over things, she ends up looking like a fool, and it—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks as she stepped into Harry's room, the door having been cracked before.

In his bed, Harry was curled up in a bundle of wrinkled sheets. Large comforters were draped over his form with more sitting on the end of the bed. A sliver of his face could be seen, his brows furrowed in distress with his forehead shimmering with sweat. The lump of bedding shook as he shivered underneath the mountain of down. Did he know his teeth were chattering? Did he know he was making these slight whimper tones?

With her concern skyrocketing, (Y/N) crossed the space to his bed in quick strides. Up close, she could see the flush on his cheeks, the dry skin of his lips, the way he had his arms bundled over his chest as if he was still freezing under all the blankets and the hoodie he had on.

And he said he wasn't feeling sick.

"Harry?" she murmured, crawling onto his bed as she reached to place a hand on his forehead. She cringed at the feel of the damp skin, too hot to be healthy. He didn't even stir at her disturbance. "Harry?"

In a fluttering blink, Harry suddenly woke up, a hurried gasp filling his lungs. It took a moment for him to catch his bearings, his eyes darting around the space before they settled on her. His gaze was bleary, unfocussed as he attempted to take her in.

"(Y/N)?" he croaked, voice crackling and dry.

No wonder he couldn't call her, he barely had a voice. (Y/N)'s heart cracked just a bit as she looked at him, settling on his bed with her legs folding up underneath her.

"Hi," she smiled at him, hoping to soothe him just a little, "I thought you said you weren't getting sick remember?"

"Yeah," he answered in a breath, his eyelids going heavy once more as he sunk into the bedding, "I don't want to be sick."

"I know," she murmured, "But it's going to be okay, we'll get you better again."

A slight curl landed on his lips as she spoke. "Are you staying?"

"Of course, I am," she promised, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands off of his forehead. Harry happily pressed into her hand, seeking out her warmth as another shiver wracked through his system. As sweet as she thought it was, she was less than impressed with just how intense his fever was. "When was the last time you took medicine?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice thick as his eyes shuttered closed, "I don't know if I have any."

"Harry, you're joking." He had to be, really. There was no way that her responsible Harry didn't have any kind of cold medicine at his disposal.

A smile once more tugged at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged, "I can't remember."

(Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to have to ransack his house and try to find any kind of medicine she could get him to take when he was a little more lucid. Until then, she was going to start small.

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Don't know."

Harry shivered as she looked towards his bedside table, finding not even a half finished glass of water waiting. She had reason to assume that he hadn't been lucid enough to even remember to hydrate during this whole thing.

"(Y/N)?" Harry crooned, voice too thick to be comfortable.

"Hm?" she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair once more.

Keening into her touch, he spoke with his eyes closed. "I'm tired."

"I know," she murmured, brows pinching when another shiver wracks his body, "You can sleep, honey. I'll find some medicine for you, and everything when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, completely compliant to whatever she had to say. Shifting under her palm, he turned his head until her palm was grazing the planes of his face. He puckered his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, honey."

She watched as a sleepy smile bloomed on his features before he sunk into his pillow, heavy blankets set on his form. He was out, just like that.

Watching over him, (Y/N) felt a guilty sense of relief as she saw a shiver roll down his spine. She didn't like seeing him so down, obviously out of it with fever chills going through his body, but this was a decidedly nicer outcome than the panic scenarios she had swirling through her head.

Giving him one more pass of her fingers through his hair, she backed off his bed. She doubted he would be sleeping very soundly, so she didn't have much time to go through and find all of the things he would need to get him through the night.

His bedroom door was left cracked open as she padded through his home. There was no way he didn't have any medicine laying around, she was sure of it. She just needed to find it.

"Shoot," (Y/N) murmured under her breath, fumbling through the cabinet in his first floor bathroom.

She was going to have to call the aquarium in the morning and reschedule their reserve tickets.

—————

"Harry? You've got to wake up for me, honey."

Harry wanted to open his eyes, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't. He was too tired, too cold, too enveloped in his vivid dreams.

"Just for a second then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

Taking in a heavy breath through his sore throat, Harry attempted once more to crack his eyes open. This time around he was successful to a small degree, his eyes opening into slits. Everything was a bit blurry, too hazy to make out exact details of what was around him. He was so cold—freezing even. The blankets weren't enough.

Above him, he saw who he was ninety-eight percent sure was (Y/N). There were vague memories of seeing her earlier in the night. He remembered the shape of her smile, the sound of her voice, her gentle touch through his hair. He thought he had been dreaming,

"You're here?" he croaked, deep crackles in his voice.

"I am, yeah," she crooned to him, shuffling closer to him, "And I have medicine for you to take."

"You do?" A sudden chill swept over his form. He burrowed deeper under his covers.

"Yeah, but you need to sit up for me so you can take it and drink some water."

His brow creased her words. "No," he whined, unwilling to abandon his cocoon for something so trivial like water.

"Yes," (Y/N) argued, "You're sick, H. You need to take some medicine so you can feel better."

He shook his head. "I'll get better later."

A soft peal of laughter filled his bedroom. "I think we should get better now, honey. I know you don't like being sick, so this will help it go away faster."

Her logic checked out, really, though it didn't really make him happy to admit. "Fine," he answered begrudgingly.

(Y/N) helped him sit up, his layers of blankets falling to his lap. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the hem of the comforters, his eyes going just a bit less bleary the more he blinked away his sleep.

At his side, (Y/N) was huddled amongst the folds of his bedding. She looked at him with a softened smile, eyes glancing over his features and whatever state he must be in.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching behind herself to grab both the medicine and the water she had waiting for him.

Harry shrugged, his head feeling too heavy. "Tired," he grumbled, "I have a fever, don't I?"

Her smile downturned some, frowning at the edges. "Yeah. I don't know how high, but I think it's a pretty good one," she told him, "So we need to make sure you keep drinking and start taking medicine again."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

A huff of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips again. "I'm sure it will be, but I don't think it'll be much work for you." Before he could compute some kind of retort, (Y/N) was handing him a duo of pills and a glass of water. "Only sip the water, okay? Too much could make you sick."

Her voice was like static in the background as he moved with lethargic limbs, tossing the pills to lay on his tongue before taking down a large gulp of water. He could vaguely hear her scolding him for taking down too much right after she warned him to slow down.

"Sorry, sorry," he told her, throat not feeling quite as rough now that he drank something. "'M thirsty."

"I'm sure you are, but you need to be careful," she told him, her voice a soft soothe as she took the glass from his hand and back to the side table, "Just take it slow. Are you hungry?"

Trying to remember the last meal he had, Harry struggled to cast his mind that far back. While he didn't necessarily identify any hunger pains in his body at the moment, too much else going on, he figured they were buried somewhere amongst the crowded chaos.

"Yeah," he answered, voice thick through his burning throat, "A little."

"Let me go make you some soup, okay? After you eat, you can go back to sleep if you want."

(Y/N) made a move to shuffle off of his bed, but she didn't get very far when he reached out with heavy limbs to pull her back. "'M not that hungry," he murmured, "Stay."

"Harry," she started, her tone turning into a coaxing plea, "I'll be fast, and you need to eat, okay?"

Disregarding her attempt at reasoning, he proceeded to tug her back to his chest. Though he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment, (Y/N) helped by moving pliantly wherever he wanted, even helping him when he shifted them to lay beneath the covers together.

"'M too tired," he said, nosing at the curve of her neck, "I'll eat later."

"Harry," she sighed once again, "I was going to make that soup you like, though."

He only shook his head, pressing the tip of his cold nose into the column of her throat. He buried himself close against her, feeding into her warmth and the comfort the soft curves of her body provided.

"Later," he insisted, her voice slurring and weakening. He puckered his dry lips and gave a small kiss to the shelf of her collarbone. "Stay."

It was when he felt her hands return to his hair, carding through the swirling curls and scratching her nails against his scalp, that he knew he won.

"Alright," she relented, planting her own kiss on the crown of his head, "I'll wait until you wake up, honey."

All it took was shuttering his eyes, lashes glancing over her skin with a slow breath in, that he fell asleep again.

—————

Harry's muscles ached by the time he finished the small serving of soup (Y/N) had made for him, only small remnants of carrots and celery remaining at the bottom. While he was much more lucid, his fever finally having gone down almost a full twelve hours since (Y/N) started feeding him medicine, his body was now exhausted from the fight against his cold.

"This was really good, sweetheart. Thank you," he smiled at her when she came to claim his dishes and return them to the kitchen. In his now empty palms, she replaced the dishes with another duo of pills for him to take.

"Those should get you through the night," (Y/N) explained, "But just wake me up if you need to. I'm hoping the soup will help your throat so you won't wake up coughing again."

That had been the story of his day, at this point. In between the fever, the cold sweat, and the muscle aches, he had barely been able to sleep before he was forced awake by the burn in his throat that demanded he cough until he swore his esophagus was raw.

"Okay," he responded, voice feeling gummy in his throat, "Are we going to bed now?"

Dishes still in hand, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him. "Actually," she started, shifting her weight, "I was thinking—if you're feeling okay enough—that we could take a shower? I think it would help you feel better to get all the fever off of you and into some clean clothes."

To be fair, he fell asleep in these sweats Thursday night, and it was now Saturday night with the same hoodie pulled over his torso and heavy sweats that kept him warm through his perceived chill. But the idea of standing up for that long, in a space that hot and warm, already made him tired enough he figured he could fall asleep in an instant.

She must have been able to tell what he was thinking by the soured expression on his face. "We'll be really fast, I promise," she assured him, "I was going to wash your hair and everything, so you wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there."

While he was sure she was bribing him with the promise of washing his hair for him, taking the task off of his hands while simultaneously giving him the gift of feeling her nails scratch at his scalp and card through his hair under the warm spray of water, he knew he wasn't going to win when that offer was on the table. She knew exactly how to get him.

"We'll be fast?"

"Promise."

With a sigh, Harry caved in. "Okay, but if I fall asleep, y'jus' have to let me."

"I'll make sure you don't fall then," she pledged with a proud smile on her face, "I'll be right back and then we'll go upstairs."

—————

"Too cold," Harry grumbled, his bare skin erupting into goosebumps under the spray of water.

Reaching around his back to adjust the temperature knob, (Y/N) turned it up just a bit more. By her preference, the water was plenty hot, especially apparent with the amount of steam filtering through the room already, but she figured he was still fighting off a few chills.

"Is that better?" she asked, quickly pulling her hand out of the stream.

"Almost," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

His skin was quickly turning red under the temperature, but he seemed to revel in it. He threw his head back under the water, wetting his curls. His arms were barred over his chest, but she could still see the way he pulled in a deep breath, the sauna-like atmosphere cleaning his sinuses. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feel, hoping his muscles were relaxing as much as she knew he needed.

"Which shampoo do you want tonight?" she asked, looking towards the built in caddy he had in his shower, the cubby full of both his and her products.

"Yours," he answered automatically, his voice sounding much less clogged after reveling in the water.

With a soft smile, she retrieved the bottle, aware of the way Harry turned to offer her the back of his head to run the cleanser through.

"Fast, right?" he murmured just above the sound of the pounding water.

"Fast," she promised, sudsing up her hands before she was going through the soft curls with her shampoo.

Though normally Harry would have leant down for her to get better leverage and not have to reach too far above to wash his hair, she couldn't blame him as he kept the full of his height. His back hurt enough some days without having a cold running through his system, it didn't help when his muscles were pinched with fever chills. Nonetheless, she stood to the tips of her toes and did as best she could to get him back to feeling more like himself.

It didn't take long for the cherry-scented bubbles to start scenting the steam, wrapping around them in sweet ribbons. She smiled at the way he practically melted at the feel, rolling his neck and allowing her more and more coverage of the shampoo. It was a silly thought, but for a minute she felt as if she were playing as his hairdresser. Was she supposed to do small talk with him?

The thought had a huff of laughter puffing through her nose.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, his voice sluggishly warm.

"Nothing, just something silly," she told him, pulling her fingers from the silky suds of his hair, "Rinse your hair and we'll wash one more time before conditioning, okay?"

"Okay," he answered absently, turning to place his hair under the rinsing spray, the bubbles running down his skin.

(Y/N) couldn't help herself, following the string of bubbles that ran down his chest, flushed skin slick from the steaming water. If this shower were under different circumstances, she would have taken it upon herself to trace that line of bubbles with her own hands, but that would have to wait, she decided. The lines of his muscles were attention grabbing, but there was something in it that made her feel sad for him. It wasn't fun to see him, knowing just how strong he was, to be reduced down to shivers and half-lucid conversations all from a small cold.

With his hair rinsed free of all the bubbles, he looked to her, curls draping down around his face. "Again?"

"Again," she affirmed, "Then we'll finish up and go to bed."

A soft smile touched the corner of his lips. "Okay."

Repeating the motion of washing through his hair once more, reviving the pattern after days of enduring his cold sweats. When she gave him the go ahead to rinse down once more, she could see just how slow he was moving again; lethargic limbs heavy.

"Which body wash are you thinking?" Though she had an inkling that he would choose to utilize her products again, she still thought to ask.

Instead of getting an answer, she was surprised with heavy, tattooed arms wrapping around her middle from behind. In her ear, he whispered, "Not yet?"

"Not yet?" she asked, turning in his arms to look up at him, "I thought you wanted to go fast?"

Gazing down at her with hooded eyes, he looked at her with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "I don't want to leave right now."

"No?" she asked with a beaming smile, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. She looped her arms around his middle, setting her palms on the slick skin of his back. The water sprayed down on her hands, the temperature no longer bothering her.

"No," he said, murmuring over the thrum of the water. A silence settled between the two of them as he gave her a slow blink, his gaze drifting down to the curve of her lips. "Kiss?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a pout, her hand on his back running a soothing circuit over the planes. "I don't want to get sick, H."

"You won't get sick," he tried to tell her, bringing his hand up to cradle her cheek, "I promise."

"How can you promise that, hm?" she prodded, teasing him some with her pout turning into a tender smile.

She seemed to have stumped him some, watching as he rolled her words around. "I don't know," he settled on, "But, I'll take care of you if you do."

With that, he dipped his head down and brushed the tip of his nose against the side of her own. The lilypads of his tired eyes were close enough for her to pick out the varying shades of clear green, the wet clumps of his lashes a dark frame around them. It was hard to say no to him, especially like this.

Tipping her chin up, she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft, innocent kiss that lingered for only a moment. It broke off when she could feel the curl of Harry's smile.

"Is that enough?" she asked, nuzzling his nose in a puppy's kiss.

"Almost," he murmured, "But I'll wait until bedtime."

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, pulling away to rest her cheek against his chest. His skin was blazingly warm, aided by the steaming water still scenting around them. He hugged her close, his arms a loose loop around her with his nose grazing the top of her head. His heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm under her ear, a comforting reminder that he was right here, right with her. After the hours she went worrying and building anxiety over his state when she hadn't heard from him the day before, feeling the solid build of his body and the steady heartbeat under her ear, this was more relieving than she was sure he even knew.

"(Y/N)?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?" she hummed, snuggling that much closer.

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?"

Blinking her eyes open in an instant. She forgot to call.

—————

thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if theres any ideas anyone wants to see pls send them in:)))

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juyeonszn · 11 months

Text

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. ��What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

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astrophileous · 1 year

Text

Love Bugs (Pt. 04)

Pairing: Derek Mogran x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): kidnapping, stalker/psychopathic behaviors, reader is being held captive, curse words (? - idk if there are any in this part but just in case), violent use of knife, tell me if I miss anything xx

Word Count: 1900-ish

Tag(s): @camilaheroine

Author's Note: I KNOW it seems like the chapters are getting shorter and shorter but I promise you it's because these last two ones are essentially mood-setters for the next big, prominent parts in the series. Sooo hang in there and I promise you'll get some juicy stuff on the new part on Thursday ;) meanwhile, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG to fuel me into making more chapters (especially if you reblog or comment 💞)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Last night, Derek was finally able to sleep for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

He had lost count of the many nights he spent tossing and turning, reaching for his phone with the intention of calling your number just to fling the device across the room before his thumb could press the call button. He would trick himself into thinking that whatever he needed to say could wait until the next day at work, only to be tongue-tied any time both of your paths would cross.

Derek Morgan had always been a courageous man. He had even proven that he would gladly give his life to hold the hand of someone sitting on top of a bomb if it meant that person wouldn't leave this world alone.

But when it came to you, Derek was an utterly, foolishly, shameful piece of coward.

"Good morning, everyone." Hotch's greeting broke Derek out of his stupor. "Let's start the day, shall we?"

"(Y/N) isn't here yet," Emily spoke up from beside him. At the mention of your name, Derek's ears instantly perked up. "Should I call her?"

Hotch stared at the empty chair where you were supposed to sit, seemingly deep in his thoughts before answering, "It's alright, I'll catch her up later myself. Shall we begin?"

The first to present their findings were JJ and Emily.

"We found something interesting while talking to the second victim's roommate yesterday," JJ began. "Apparently, the victim had been seeing some guy for the past few weeks before she disappeared."

"Why wasn't this information in our files?" Hotch frowned.

"Because our victim only disclosed this once to one of her friends at school that we didn't get to interview the first time around," Emily answered. "The roommate only just found out after they bumped into each other a couple of weeks ago."

"That's good. It's definitely a start. Gather everything you know about the date and send the information to Garcia. Maybe she can give us a list of potential suspects from there," Hotch ordered.

"Already done." JJ nodded.

"Okay, next. Reid, did you--"

"Sir?"

The sound from the doorway interrupted Hotch before he could even begin to voice his question out loud. Every head in that room turned towards Penelope standing in the doorway, a panic-stricken expression decorating her usually cheery face.

"What's up, Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

"Another package just arrived, sir," she informed nervously. "It's our UnSub."

Hotch abruptly got up from his seat. "Did you get a chance to take a look at the video yet?"

"I-It's not a video tape, sir."

"What is it, Garcia?" Rossi asked.

"It's a flashdrive." She cleared her throat. "I, uh, did a routine check to make sure that it didn't contain any viruses. Not like it matters. I probably could still access the files if he had used the common accessible viruses in the market. Thankfully, though, there wasn't a single virus in it. Which, of course, made my job a whole lot easier--"

"Garcia," Hotch warned.

"Yes? Right, right. I'm sorry, sir. What I meant to say is that the flashdrive didn't have any kinds of virus." Garcia started playing with her fingers, a physical tell which Derek knew could only mean that she was feeling anxious. "But I think you guys should see this."

Everyone scrambled from their seats to follow Garcia out of the conference room. In the middle of the bullpen, a large projector had been set up, its large screen covering the vast area of one of the walls.

"Garcia," Hotch called in confusion. "You said that it wasn't a video tape."

"It's not, sir," Garcia choked out. Her glasses-rimmed eyes taking in the sight of the hunched figure on the screen, seated on a chair in what looked like an abandoned building similar to the one they found in the first video. "This is streaming live."

"What?" Emily muttered in shock.

"This is right now?" Hotch asked, to which Garcia answered with a series of rapid nods.

"He's finally chosen his next victim," Reid commented under his breath.

"Wait, look. She's waking up," JJ pointed out.

Every pair of eyes in the room watched as the figure started to stir. When she finally lifted her head, the entire universe seemed to stand still.

Somewhere in the room, Derek heard somebody gasp.

"No."

Derek shook his head in denial. His eyes blinking rapidly to clear the fog that had started to gather in his vision. For a second there, Derek had hoped that maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe the guilt he had continuously hoarded over the past few weeks had at last caught up to him, playing cruel tricks to his mind that made him believe he was seeing things that weren't real.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Derek realized that the scene in front of him was not the product of his overly heinous imagination.

Because the figure being tied down on the chair in that video was, in fact, you.

"That's... That's not--"

"That's (Y/N)," Reid uttered in disbelief, finishing the sentence that Derek couldn't get out due to the strangled air in his throat.

Derek's legs gave out underneath him. Before he could fall helplessly to the ground, the desk behind him caught most of his body weight, ensuring that he would stay standing despite the paralysis that had begun attacking his entire limbs.

His worst nightmare had just come true.

And Derek, for the first time in his life, finally knew what a pure, unadulterated terror felt like.

The insufferable pain was the first thing you registered when you opened your eyes.

Chronic migraines were a condition that had always run in your family. Your mother had them when she was alive. You started having them when you were in high school. At their worst, the migraines you had to endure were unbearable. They became insanely painful at times that you didn't even have the capacity to get out of bed.

But this headache was definitely worse. So much worse.

You blinked your eyes once, twice, three times in an attempt to clear the white threads in your vision. When your eyes had refocused enough for you to see without feeling like you were about to topple over, you began to take in your surroundings.

The room was humid and dark. The small ventilations to your right told you that the sun was already up, meaning that you were passed out all night long. With a few hours had passed since you were last conscious to the moment you woke up, there was no way to estimate the exact location to which your captor had taken you.

As your eyes swept over the large expanse of moldy dark concrete, they caught sight of a device being mounted on the wall.

A camera.

He was watching you.

The dread was quick to sink in your stomach. The camera meant that your captor had been watching your every move. And if he truly had, it was only a matter of time before he would pay a visit after learning that you had regained your consciousness.

As if he had been rummaging through your mind himself, you heard the sound of a metal door opening barely a few minutes later.

His presence reeked of atrocity. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed to the background sound of malice, promising all things devilish to anyone who ever caught a wind of it. You watched him appear from the darkness. All black attire--complete with a black ski mask--to cover his true identity. But even with nearly his whole face hidden, the cruel promise in his eyes alone was enough to make you shiver in place.

"Good morning, Agent (Y/L/N). You were asleep a lot longer than I thought you'd be."

You unconsciously tugged at the restrains that bound you to the chair.

"I saw your message for me, Agent. Did you like my gift?"

"The video tape. That was you?"

His eyes crinkled in the corner as if he was elated at the idea of you receiving the so-called gift he had prepared.

"You liked it?" he almost purred. "I knew you would. I knew you were different from the others. I saw you up there and I just knew that you were the one I was looking for."

"Of course. Thank you so much for such a special gift."

You knew the profile had stated that the UnSub loved attention, meaning that he also seeked validation and compliance from his victims. Trying to fight him would only result in catastrophe. Especially after considering that the video tape he sent showed apparent signs of unpredictable devolving from his organized self. He was intelligent enough to know if you ever tried to trick him, so your best bet at that moment was to play along with his fantasy and hoped that it would give you additional time to figure out a more elaborated plan of action.

"You already know my name, but I still don't know yours. What should I call you?"

The UnSub pondered your curiosity in the silence. "You don't remember me?"

His question baffled you.

His reaction implied that you must have crossed paths with him, somewhere, somehow, during the weeks that had passed since the press conference.

That knowledge alone had dread stirring higher in your gut.

"I'm sorry." You quickly tried to rectify the situation. "It's dark in here, and you're wearing that mask. A-and my head, it's throbbing really bad. Kinda makes it difficult to see or recognize anything. Or anyone."

Thankfully, he seemed to find your excuse acceptable. "You can call me Darling."

"Darling?" You hid the instant repulsion in your voice at the nickname. "Is that really your name?"

Booming laughter filled the room, chilling your bones and activating every fight or flight response in your body. The mirth in his eyes caused you to feel as if you had just delivered the biggest joke of the century by asking him that last question.

"No, it's not my real name," he let out after seemingly pleased by your accidental jab in humor. "Darling is what we are to each other. You'll be my Darling and I'll be yours. Forever."

Forever.

You ignored how that one single word ignited a massive turbulence in your bloodstream.

"Is that why you took all of those women?" you asked cautiously. "You were looking for your Darling?"

"Yes. But let's not worry about that anymore. I've got you, now." He stalked over to you then, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to stare into his eyes. "None of the others are as worthy as you, Darling. We are going to have so much fun together."

You inwardly cringed while imagining what exactly the type of "fun" he might have meant.

"I have a surprise waiting for us to commemorate our first day together," he suddenly told you.

"A surprise? What kind of surprise?"

He reached around his back before pulling out a dagger that he began to twirl in his hand. The sharp point of its metallic blade blinded you as your captor moved around your tied up body, stalking at every angle as if you were a prey he wanted to shred to pieces.

Eventually, his steps halted behind the chair you were tied to, rooting you in place with one hand on your shoulder while the other pressed the tip of the dagger to your jaw.

"Smile at the camera, Darling," he whispered behind your ear. "We have an audience."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your team is watching," he informed between his dark snickers. "Let's make sure the show is worth their time, shall we?"

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dotster001 · 1 year

Text

My Drowning Heart

Summary:Azul x gn!reader Azul helps you down from a depressive episode.

CW: This is based on my personal depressive symptoms! If this is concerning or distressing to you, please do not read! We all have different ways of coping and that is okay!

A/N: Azul/Octotrio was most requested when I asked, but I have saved the other suggestions so when I have my next depressive episode wave of inspiration, I'll go there next.

Vil's Version

One week.

That was how long it had been since anyone had seen or heard from you or Grim. After sending Jade to…ahem….interrogate various students, a couple people had spotted Grim in the kitchen or right outside Ramshackle, but aside from that, nothing.

He was definitely starting to sound desperate in his text messages to you. The current chat record read as follows.

Sunday 8:32 am

Good morning. One of our servers has called in sick, would you be willing to fill in? Your services would be fairly compensated.

Sunday 10:29 pm

It is not like you to ignore my job offers? Did you get yourself into some trouble? We can help you out, at a lovely discount.

Tuesday 3:15 pm

Your friends say they haven't seen you in a couple of days. Is everything alright?

Wednesday 9:10 am

I must admit I am beginning to feel some concerns for your absence.

Wednesday 12:15 pm

Is everything alright?

Thursday 3:20 pm

Floyd saw Grim this morning, but he rushed back into your dorm very fast. Is everything okay? If you've been kidnapped, delete this message and send two smiley faces.

Thursday 3:25 pm

That wasn't my best idea. If you're reading this, kidnapper, I can negotiate. I can make you a deal you can't refuse.

Thursday 4:39 pm

My patience is wearing thin. You have 24 hours.

Thursday 5:05 pm

Give me back my Y/N!

Friday 8:00 am

Grim if you have their phone please delete my prior messages. Some specialty tuna will be waiting for you upon your return to class.

After finding out from Idia that he couldn't delete his pathetic messages without your phone, he took a good hard look at himself, and realized all the texts showed his deep concern for you.

So, swallowing his pride, he decided to investigate at the last known location of Grim. Ramshackle dorm.

He arrived, making a polite knock. Nothing. He knocked again. Nothing. He began pounding on the door with his fist. A wide eyed Grim opened the door.

"Good afternoon, I'm looking for your other half," Azul said, calmly sidestepping around Grim, and beginning to make a beeline towards the stairs.

"What are you doing here? You're not welcome, sketchy octopus…"

"I'm here because I'm concerned about Y/N. It's alright if you don't want me to see them, but are my fears correctly founded?"

Grim froze for a moment, his eyes flickering to the stairs then back to Azul.

"They…they said they were tired and it would pass soon. Don't worry about it."

Azul raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine, I don't believe they're just tired. They don't leave the bed except to take care of me, and even then they don't take care of themselves. So I gotta get em food or they won't eat."

"Have they," he stuttered and adjusted his glasses to hide his pink cheeks, "Have they communicated or messaged anyone?"

"No, they only opened their phone to turn on a video, and they keep watching the same three videos over and over. Ace called three times and Y/N ignored all three."

"Hmph," Azul muttered to himself. He then pulled out a can of deluxe tuna. "There's more of these waiting for you in the VIP room. I'll take care of things from here."

Grim looked doubtful, and Azul sighed.

"Believe it or not, I am not an utterly heartless creature. I have grown concerned for the prefect's well being. Now go get your tuna, and I will have them back to a normal state in no time."

Grim's eyes wandered up the stairs again, and he put his paws on his hips.

"Okay, but if they are broken when I return, the Great Grim won't hesitate to avenge his henchhuman!"

And with that he scampered out of Ramshackle. Azul took a calming breath, then proceeded up the stairs, until he heard a low volume video behind one of the doors.

"Good afternoon, prefect," he said quietly as he peaked in. He was met with your tired, confused, eyes.

"Azul?" You croaked out, before looking down at your phone and wincing. "Fuck, I gotta get Grim his dinner."

"I've already taken care of that," he said sitting down on the bed. "Tell me, how are you?"

"Tired."

"That's all?"

"Yeah."

"Hm," he pursed his lips, before nodding to himself. "Tell you what, I will pay to fix the second floor windows, if you get out of bed, and take a shower or a bath."

You groaned, before putting the pillow over your head.

"I'm too tired to shower."

"I'll fix all the windows."

"That's not gonna make me less tired."

He massaged his temples, before sighing heavily.

"I will get the shower ready, pick out a new set of pajamas for you, and brush your hair after. All you have to do, is get in."

"And get clean…"

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Just getting in will help you a lot. If you're not up to getting clean, that's alright, start with an attainable goal."

You groaned before, "Fine. Tell me when the shower is ready."

"As you wish."

He stood up, found the shower and got it running, making sure the temperature would be reasonable for a human. He then whispered a spell, causing the shower to have the calming scent of lavender.

He retrieved you, and walked you to the bathroom, before returning to your room to tidy up while you sat under the water. He'd never been in your room before, but he was certain it wasn't usually this…uniquely decorated. Two bags full of trash later, he changed the sheets, brought you that new set of pajamas, and set to work finding your hair brush. He also procured a large glass of water.

After you were dressed, you reentered your room.

"How was it?" He asked, genuinely hoping you were feeling better.

"I used some body wash on my torso," you said, not making eye contact.

"That's great! That's a huge start."

You mumbled under your breath, but he cut you off.

"No really, that's great. I know how hard it is to take care of yourself…" he trailed off before more of the forbidden lore came up.

You gave him a small smile, before looking around the room.

"Did you clean? It looks great."

"Naturally," he smirked. "Now have a seat, I'll brush your hair out."

You sat down and he handed you the glass of water.

"Drink all of this while I brush your hair," you groaned, but he cut you off, "I mean it, prefect. You need to make sure you stay hydrated."

You sat down with a pout, and slowly began to drink the water as he got to work detangling your rat's nest of hair. He paused for a second.

"Y/N," he asked softly, after noticing you were drifting off. "Is there something you're supposed to be taking?"

You stiffened, before nodding.

"I can talk to Professor Crewel about getting you something, if that's alright?"

You nodded again, and he resumed brushing your hair.

"It's too quiet," you whispered at some point.

For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. What could he do or say that would drown out the voices in your head?

"My love, my love, my fearless love, I will not say goodbye."

He began to sing softly under his breath. He knew his voice was exceptional. He just hoped it was good enough for you.

"Sea may rise, sky may fall, my love will never die."

Your shoulders relaxed, and you set the empty glass to the side. He finished your hair at the same time. He came around to the front of the chair, and knelt before you.

"Have you eaten today?"

"Yeah, Grimmy got me a big lunch. He's a good boy," you said, eyes tearing up a little.

"I'm not strong enough for him. I can't even go to class. How am I supposed to function in the real world?"

Oh shit. You were crying now. After a second of hesitation, he wrapped you tightly in his arms, and allowed you to cry on his shoulder. As the crying began to lessen he whispered,

"I'm sure a lot of people tell you this, but I swear to you, it really does get easier. And one day," he inhaled sharply, holding back his own painful memories, "One day, this will just be a moment in your past that you look back on when you are thinking about how good your life has become."

"You promise?" You sniffled.

"I'm so certain, that I'll make a contract with you that you get all my money if I'm wrong."

You laughed a little, then sighed.

"I'm tired."

"Are you tired or tired."

"I'm actually tired," you said with a half hearted smile.

"Alright, I made up the bed for you, so you can lay down if you want."

He helped you into the bed, tucked you in, and made to leave when you grabbed his wrist.

"Can…can you stay with me?" You hesitated, before rushing the next part, "you don't have to, I just…"

But he was already removing his jacket and tie before getting in with you. He wrapped his arms around you and snuggled in.

"Like that?"

"Yeah," you said, looking flustered, "like that."

Your eyes fluttered shut, and pretty soon your breathing evened out. He was starting to drift off himself when he noticed your phone sitting on a side table. All his messages to you came rushing back to him. He slowly started to work himself out of the bed. Or he was, until you whimpered and tightened your grip on him in your sleep.

He sighed to himself. He supposed he could indulge in this moment now, and delete the messages tomorrow. Though he couldn't help but hope that when you were better, he could have this opportunity more often….

....

Post Note: The song I referenced in this piece and in the title. It's on my mermaid's playlist so when I was trying to decide what our merman would sing, I thought it was perfect!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst azul #tw depression

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7-wonders · 9 months

Text

Apocalypse Now

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XII)

Summary: The end is here, despite your best efforts.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm sorry, this is straight angst. Oops?

Mad Love Masterlist

Tuesdays are objectively the worst day of the week. Though Monday is rough, being the first day after the weekend, it can still be spun as a positive—a brand new week, just full of possibilities. Wednesdays, at least, have the “hump day” moniker to give one some hope that the week is half over. Thursdays are alright because that means it’s almost Friday, and Fridays are what it must be like to take every party drug at once.

Tuesdays, though? Tuesdays suck. It’s far enough into the week to feel none of the residual weekend happiness, but the upcoming weekend is still very much out of grasp. Tuesday is hopelessness personified, if one is feeling particularly dramatic.

That’s why it’s fitting that the world ends on a Tuesday.

You’re in class, because where else would you be? Luckily, this is your capstone class, which is just a class for seniors who are, predictably, working on their capstones to be able to bounce ideas off of and support each other. Since you and Kate are both seniors (and because you literally signed up for this class at the same time) you have the class together, thankfully—you keep each other sane by being insane together, and nowhere is that more apparent than when the two of you work on your respective theses.

“You think I can get away with calling Kant a cunt if I do it, like, academically?” Kate whispers into your ear from where she’s sitting next to you. She keeps her eyes on her laptop screen the entire time, making you choke back a laugh at her easy nonchalance.

“Not by using those exact words, but yeah, as long as you cite your sources.” You run the same drill as Kate, refusing to look away and draw suspicion as you both snicker quietly to yourselves. “Do you wanna grab coffee and pretend to keep working after class?”

“God, yes. Then I can tell you about what went down at last night’s Greek Life exec meeting.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “It came out that three of the Chi O sisters are dating each other.”

(With hindsight on your side, you’ll look back on this day and think with bitter regret about how utterly, perfectly normal the day the world ended was. The gossiping conversations, the plans being made, the going about your day with all the confidence that you’ll see tomorrow.

You miss that innocence.)

You gasp under your breath at this exciting tidbit. “No way! How did they–”

You’re cut off by the alarm on someone’s phone blaring. No, multiple phones are blaring out an emergency alarm, and those that aren’t are vibrating, yours included. People dig their phones out of pockets and backpacks, and you pick yours up from where it sits on the table next to your computer and flip it around so that you can see the screen.

You wish you didn’t.

“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the alert on your phone reads.

You look up at Kate as your classmates begin to mutter around you in a mix of nervous laughter and disbelief, only to see the same shock and confusion on her face that must surely be reflected in yours.

“Do you think this is real?” you ask, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat at the implications of such a message.

“It can’t be. It’s–it’s like that time in Hawaii, remember? We’ll get an alert in a few minutes saying that it was all a mistake,” she assures you, always so calm and rational about everything.

You nod and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Kate is right, you tell yourself. Somebody accidentally hit a button at a command center when they were trying to conduct a test, and now everybody’s freaking out as a result. They’ve probably already caught the mistake and are preparing to do damage control. The employee will lose their job, unfortunately, but that’s to be expected when accidentally causing mass panic. All in all, this will make a fun story in a couple of years: the time you thought you were about to be caught up in nuclear warfare.

Screaming draws your attention to the large windows to the right of you, and you and others cross the room to see what the commotion is. Outside, people of all ages are running in various directions across campus for—well, for their lives. The way everyone hurries reminds you of watching an ant farm. Someone trips and goes sprawling to their hands and knees, only to have to roll to the grass to prevent almost being trampled. Their belongings, having fallen from their grasp, are kicked and scattered without any care.

The panic from outside leaches through the wall and begins to spread through the classroom like a fast-moving disease. Warning sirens, which you didn’t know were still in operation after the Cold War, begin to wail. Some classmates start trying to reach friends or loved ones on their phones, while others just make a break for the door. At the front of the room, your professor sits, paralyzed, with tears running down his face while he scrolls his social media and tries to find anything to confirm that this is all just a terrible misstep.

Your stomach drops like you’re lurching down from the top of a very tall roller coaster, and you look back at Kate. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” she asks. You just shake your head, throwing everything into your backpack and zipping it up before grabbing Kate’s hand. You don’t know where it is you need to go, only that you can’t stay here. Taking one last look back at the classroom to make sure you have everything, you and Kate join the flow of people heading down the stairs to try and escape.

Hand in hand so as not to get separated in the crowd, you both run through the campus green. It’s a perfect late-autumn day, really. The sun is high in the blue, cloudless sky and the temperature is warm, but with a bit of a chill from the wind. It’s the type of weather that makes you want to spend all day outside so as not to waste it. The juxtaposition, between the pleasant weather and the chaotic, frightened atmosphere, is not lost on you.

“Wait,” Kate raises her voice to be heard over the panicked din, “we need a plan.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything beyond how scared you are. “Uh…we’ll get in my car, okay? I filled up on gas this morning. And–and we’ll drive as fast as we can, to get as far away as we can before the blast happens. I think we can get out of the major blast zone.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

She nods at you, and you nod back, both trying to reassure the other. The parking lot appears as you round a corner, and you tear your backpack around to your front so that you can find your keys.

“Wait!” Kate says again. “What about Brennan? And Michael?”

Hearing Michael’s name sends alarm bells flaring in the back of your mind. There’s something about him and this nightmare that are connected, but the primal parts of your brain, the one telling you that flight is the best option for survival right now, is too active for you to have any sort of introspection in this moment.

“Call them,” you answer without hesitation, “we can pick them up on the way out of town.”

Kate grabs her phone, finding Brennan’s number and hitting ‘call’ before holding the device up to her ear. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she mutters, listening closely. “Fuck! I can’t get through.”

“Keep trying. One has to go through eventually. And if they don’t, we at least know where they both are.”

“Do you really think this is going to work? That we’re going to survive?” Kate asks, dialing Brennan once more.

The truth is that you don’t know. You hope it does, that you can at least give yourself a fighting chance to not immediately die when the missiles hit. But there’s just as big a chance that you can’t make it out, that you will die. That’s terrifying, and it makes your throat tighten from terror. The only thing that keeps you from outright freaking out is that, if you do die, at least you’ll have Kate right there next to you.

“I don’t know. But I can promise you that we’re going to try our hardest to survive,” you say.

You can see your car now, only a couple of rows away. Maybe you will actually make it. Maybe this plan will work, and the four of you will end up riding out the end of the world together. Maybe survival can happen; you’re all pretty resourceful, and if you can at least get past the blasts, you can—

An armored vehicle screeches to a halt in front of you, sending you and Kate rearing back as your path is cut off. Two figures dressed in black suits hop out and begin to walk towards you with a purpose. Behind them, military personnel also exit the vehicle. Immediately, your worst fears are confirmed, and you know what this must be. Trying to avoid the inevitable, you begin taking hurried steps back.

One of the men in black says your name. “You need to come with us,” he commands.

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to run to your left, hoping to catch them off-guard and make a break for it, but the other man in black stands in front of you.

“I’m afraid we can’t accept that,” he says, motioning for the military personnel.

Two of them approach you, their rifles belted to their fronts and serving as a menacing reminder that you have no power here. They each grab one arm and begin to drag you towards the vehicle, paying no mind to you as you start screaming and trying to fight your way out of their grasps. You hold desperately onto Kate’s hand for as long as you can, but it’s only a matter of time before you lose your hold.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” you hear Kate yell behind you.

“Kate! Kate!” you shriek, high and piercing and terrified.

You look over your shoulder to see two other soldiers blocking her from reaching you. You’re both sobbing, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it. You’re unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the armored vehicle, the door slamming shut before you can even think to move. Up front, the driver throws it into gear and peals away from the parking lot. When you scramble to your knees, you’re forced to watch as Kate’s figure rapidly grows smaller and smaller.

“Please go back! You have to take Kate, too! Please!” you beg.

“Shut up!” One of the men shoves you down into your seat, and when you try to get up, he backhands you across the face.

“Hey, be careful with her!” another warns. “You remember what they said. No harm is to come to the boss’s wife.”

The pain of the slap has you reeling, but it also serves to clear your mind enough that the reality of what was just said begins to sink in. You’re apparently the boss’s wife, which means one thing and one thing only.

He’s done it, then? This is all the doing of one Michael Langdon, who for so long swore to you that the world would not end for years, that you would be well aware of when and if his plans were going to be realized? You don’t want to believe it, but, unfortunately, it’s the reality that you seem to be faced with. In response, your tears dry up, and you sit silently and stoically for the rest of the ride.

It’s not a very long journey to wherever you’re being taken to, maybe fifteen minutes or so before the truck is driven into a garage. You look out the back window again to see the garage door closing behind you, the rectangle of light growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappears. Deep down, you know that this was probably your last time seeing the sunlight. You don’t know whether watching it will make you feel better or worse.

The soldiers drag you out of the car just as they dragged you in, marching you through what looks like an underground parking garage towards an elevator and forcing you to stand between them as the men in black join your little group. One of them reaches out a hand, gloved in black leather, so they can stab at the control panel. Even though they press the topmost button, the elevator begins to move down.

The silence begins to stretch on, and you shift uncomfortably. “Is my—” your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “Is Michael here?”

Predictably, they ignore you, staring straight ahead at their distorted reflections in the chrome doors.

When the doors do finally ding open, they reveal what looks like the living room of an apartment. The walls are bare, but there are all the normal furnishings that one would expect to find: a couch, a TV, a coffee table. There are no windows, you note, the only light available emitting harshly from the fixtures up above. You’re sat down on the couch, and you glare petulantly at your kidnappers.

“Where are we?” you demand. “I deserve answers.”

“You’ll be safe here,” one of them says instead of answering your question.

Single-file, they move back into the elevator, presumably to return to the surface. As the doors shut once more, you hold eye contact with the soldier that hit you.

He looks at you in fear, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

The elevator whirs back to life as it begins its travels up, and the sound serves to jolt you out of your stunned state and remind you that you have free will. You jump up from the couch and run to the elevator, hoping for a way out. There’s no call panel on the wall next to it, meaning that the only way it can be accessed is from the inside. Effectively, you’re trapped.

Panic returns in full-force at this revelation, and you frantically start trying to get your fingers into the seam of the door. Maybe if you pull hard enough, you’ll be able to pry them open? You’re not sure what you’ll do after that, but at least then you’ll have options.

Just as you’re starting to delude yourself that you think you can feel a gap widening under your grip, an explosion rocks the world above you. It’s loud, louder than you thought possible for how far below ground you must be, and you scream as you fall to the floor. The shock of the blast reverberates all the way down to what must be the Earth’s core, causing the room to shake around you. The lights flicker and go out before being replaced by an eerie red glow, and an alarm starts to methodically sound.

A sob rips from you, your heart knowing what’s just happened before your brain can come to the same conclusion. A nuclear weapon, dropped right over your head. Death and destruction wreaking havoc on the world in a matter of seconds. Mere circumstance saving you, while those you love are left to perish.

Against your will, you’re forced to imagine the scenarios. Kate was probably still outside, nowhere near any sort of safety. Brennan must have been so worried, trying just as desperately until his last moments to try and reach Kate. Mallory, you know, would have been more worried for her students, for her girls, than herself. Your parents…fuck. You didn’t even get to tell your parents you love them. The grief is overwhelming, and threatens to swallow you whole.

A hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your face up from where it’s been hanging in despair. Through tears, you see a figure with blue eyes and golden hair crouched in front of you. Their thumb gently presses on your lip, and you inhale sharply at the pain, the source of which must have been the slap.

“Who did this to you? Was it one of the personnel who brought you here?” he asks, fury in his tone.

“Michael,” you cry out, letting him collect you in his embrace. He’s so comforting, so familiar, that you can forget for a moment that he’s the source of your current agony.

“Oh my love, it’s alright. We’re both safe,” he soothes, rubbing a hand on your back as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you beforehand, but these plans were extremely confidential.”

That reminds you who it is you’re crying on, and you pull yourself up off of his shoulder. Michael’s looking down at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and frowning just slightly in sympathy for your plight.

Rage, hot and incandescent, floods through your veins.

“You did this, then?” you ask.

He smiles proudly. “As I was born to do.”

“And…everybody’s dead?” Your voice comes out strangled, though you try your hardest to school your emotions.

“Not everybody. Those that managed to earn a spot in an Outpost are all alive and well. There will be a good number of people who were far enough away from blast zones to have survived the initial blast. The fallout will take care of them within a couple years, though.” He shakes his head in pity. “Nasty thing, nuclear fallout. If exposed for even a few minutes, cancer and sores can easily develop. Mutations as well.”

That sounds horrifying. However morbid it may be, for the sake of those you love, you hope that the blasts killed them.

The look on your face must match how you’re feeling, because Michael quickly takes your hands in his. “I know, it sounds terrible. But their deaths were necessary! They fulfill a purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To cleanse the world and remake it in my father’s image, for you and I to rule as we see fit.”

A wave of nausea takes over you, and you have to close your eyes and breathe deeply to keep from becoming sick. You stand, backing away from Michael as quickly as you can. He tries to follow, but you hold your hands out in front of you to stop him from coming any closer.

“You bastard,” you whisper.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

You look up at him, fire in your eyes. “You. Bastard.”

“You don’t really mean that.” You can’t tell if he’s in disbelief or if he’s challenging you to repeat that.

“Yes, I do. You killed them! You killed all of them, for no good reason—”

“You know the reason!” he yells, grabbing onto your upper arms and pulling you to him. Though you try to fight your way out of his grasp, your resistance is futile. “I am doing this for us,” he hisses. “So that we can have the future we’ve dreamed about, the future that we’ve earned with our hard work.”

“This is not the future I dreamed about.” You shove him away, making him glare at you as though you’re his enemy.

Your Michael, the one that you know and love, is nowhere to be seen. Gone is the Michael that would tell you everything. The Michael that researched grad schools as though he was the one that would be attending, the Michael that took a body shot off of you, the Michael that lit up the first time that he saw fireflies, the Michael that loved Valentine’s Day because it meant that he got to shower you in love and there was nothing you could do about it.

Now, there’s a man wearing your husband’s face, who stands before you unrepentant and assured in his actions. This stranger has been completely and utterly corrupted by his father, and in such a short amount of time. As it turns out, all of your hard work only served to send him quicker into the throes of darkness.

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“This is who I have always been,” he proclaims proudly. “You just haven’t wanted to see it.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” Amidst all of the uncertainty that you’re currently faced with, through all of the horror you’ve been forced to endure in one day, this is what you can be certain of.

Michael smiles patronizingly, as though you’re a mere child who insists that the bogeyman is real and he’s the adult that knows better. “You’ll come to your senses. Just give it some time.”

He grabs your hand against your will, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

“Soon, our reign begins.”

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray

(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs #michael langdon imagines #mad love musings

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writeforfandoms · 8 months

Text

Fall Into Me 11

Find the series masterlist

Rose has more support now than she knows what to do with. Rudy surprises her, in a very good way.

Warnings: Swearing, the guys do hover a bit, plotting and planning (the good kind), Gaz is a menace (affectionate).

Word count: 1.4k

Eventual Rose x 141 x Rodolfo x Alejandro poly

Rose wasn’t sure exactly why things had changed, but that Incident was the real start of the change. That entire week, either Gaz or Soap showed up in the morning and insisted on staying to help. Somehow, all of their numbers ended up in her phone. (She knew it was Gaz, even though she hadn’t seen him do it.) On Wednesday, Soap manned the front while Rose had an impromptu interview with a young man who’d walked in asking after the “help wanted” sign.

Thursday had an entirely different kind of surprise.

“You should have told me you were finally starting an Instagram for this place!” Kelly, one of her regulars who worked upstairs, gushed. “I’ve got some cute pics, I’ll tag the shop in them!”

“Uh.” Rose blinked at her, completely thrown. “Thanks?”

Kelly just beamed at her, taking her coffee and leaving.

Instagram page?

Rose turned slowly to look at Gaz, who was just coming out of the back. He didn’t even look abashed, just shrugging when she met his gaze.

“Did you do this?”

“It’ll help business,” Gaz said with an easy shrug. “Besides, you’ve got such a cozy place here, it’s very photogenic.”

Rose huffed. “Fine, do whatever you want, but don’t expect me to help. I’m terrible at social media.”

“I’ve got it handled.” Gaz grinned, dropping an easy arm over her shoulders. “Don’t you even wanna see the page, love?”

“Oh, alright. Go on, show off.” But Rose still smiled indulgently, leaning a little into his side. He was warm and she felt all too comfortable with him.

Gaz squeezed her shoulders a little and used his free hand to show her the page for the coffee shop. It was very nice, she had to admit. He’d gotten some great pictures, including one of the empty store (and she wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed that).

“Wow. These are really good. Think you might’ve missed your calling as a photographer.” Rose flipped back to her favorite picture - a mug of tea next to a vase of flowers, warm morning sunshine spilling across the table.

“Gonna make me blush, love.” But Gaz grinned at her, giving her another little squeeze. “I can send you this one if you want?”

“Sure.” Rose hesitated then, licking her lips, glancing up at him. “Actually…”

“Yeah?” His gaze flitted to her before he navigated to his texts, already loading the picture to send to her.

“Do you have a picture of all of you? All of your office, I mean.” Rose felt herself warm and hoped she wasn’t blushing much. “I’d love a group picture of you all.”

“I can get you one.” Gaz gave her one last squeeze before he let his arm drop. “You got any plans this weekend?”

Rose sighed, shrugging a little. “Thinking I might do half-days,” she admitted. “At least until I can hire a couple people and get them trained.”

“A couple people?” Gaz looked interested.

“Yeah. Be a good idea to have backup, and that will make it easier if I need to take an actual day off and not just weekends.” Rose shrugged again. It made sense to her.

Gaz nodded. “Good thinking,” he agreed. “You want help?”

“You have managed to be down here every day,” Rose scolded. “I appreciate the thought, very much so, but you need downtime too.”

“Love, this is nothing.” He grinned, amused. “We all used to be in much more stressful situations.”

“Don’t care,” Rose grumbled. “The answer is still no.”

Gaz huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t argue further - whether because he was giving in or just reevaluating his plan, Rose wasn’t sure.

He didn’t bring up the topic again, and they worked easily through the lunch rush. Gaz ushered her off to eat after that, holding down the fort.

“I need to run upstairs,” he said once she was back.

“Of course. Go. Shoo. You could have said so sooner.” Rose frowned at him.

“It’s nothing serious,” Gaz assured her, unable to resist pulling her in for a quick hug. “I’ll be back.”

Rose watched him go, shaking her head. He had way too much energy. And was too cavalier about his own time. A side effect of his career prior to this, maybe.

Either way. She’d keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t overwork himself. (Well, she’d do the same thing for all of them, actually.)

The afternoon was quiet, giving her time to do some inventory and ordering. She also got caught up on some of the family news, smiling when she saw a cousin had gotten a sort-of promotion and a special assignment. Actually, that seemed like something she should mention to Rodolfo and Alejandro - they might be able to help her cousin, and the other way around. Hm. Now that was something to consider.

Her musing was interrupted by a text from Gaz. A picture of the group of them, all squished together in the office. Soap was grinning broadly at the camera, as was Gaz. Rodolfo and Alejandro looked amused more than anything. Ghost just stared straight into the camera, and Price looked exasperated but amused.

She immediately saved the photo and tucked her phone away again.

Gaz didn’t come back down, which was fine. He didn’t actually work at the coffee shop, after all.

But Rodolfo did come down, smiling at her.

“Hi, Rodolfo.” She leaned one hip against the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Actually, I have a question for you, bonita.” He stopped opposite her, holding her gaze.

“Yeah?” Rose blinked at him, curious.

“Do you have any plans Saturday evening?” He swallowed, a little nervous, but didn’t back down. “Alejo and I would love to have you for dinner.”

Rose blinked, lips parting in surprise. “I’m free,” she agreed, trying not to answer too quickly. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I can meet you here?” He offered her a hopeful smile. “I could show you a few recipes, if you like.”

Her answering smile was bright and she nodded eagerly. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “But let me take care of dessert, please?”

“Won’t say no to that.” His smile widened. “What time should I be here?”

Rose tapped her fingers against the counter. “I’m planning to close at 2, so any time around then.”

He nodded, leaning forward a little. “Got it,” he murmured. He paused then, looking at her more closely, and his shoulders relaxed a little before he smiled. “You look happier.”

“Do I?” Rose could feel herself blushing, tempted to duck her head. But she didn’t.

“You do. Is a good look on you, bonita.” His smile widened, one hand lifting to brush a finger over the apple of her cheek.

Rose did duck her head then, unable to hold his gaze. Rodolfo hummed softly, letting his hand fall, apparently unwilling to push.

“Alejo and I will be off-site tomorrow,” he told her, gently steering her back to steadier topics, giving her time to compose herself again. “But I will be here Saturday by 2.”

“Okay.” Rose took a deep breath and then smiled, a little shy and a lot pleased. “I hope it all goes well tomorrow for you two.”

“We’ll tell you all about it on Saturday.” He paused. “Well. What we can tell you.”

Rose nodded her understanding. “So long as you don’t get in trouble.”

“With Price?” He outright snorted. “Would take a lot more than telling you too much.”

Curiosity made her lean forward a bit, but good sense held her back from asking. “Even so.”

He nodded, just once, gaze intent on hers. “Even so,” he agreed softly. “I should go. Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Rose couldn’t help but smile as he left, excitement rising in her chest.

Saturday could not come fast enough for her.

Fortunately, Friday went quickly and easily, with another person coming in for an interview. That one went well, and Rose made a mental note to call them back next week. Soap spent a good portion of the day in the shop, warm and easy.

Really, Rose had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky with these guys, but she had. She made another mental note to find a way to show them how much she appreciated them.

A look at the calendar gave her an idea, and she hummed to herself. That might just work.

She just needed a big enough kitchen.

But that could be figured out later. For now, she had to finish out the day. And the next.

No problem.

#fall into me #eventual poly #poly vibes #poly 141 x fem oc #fem oc x 141 x rodolfo x alejandro

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daegall · 2 years

Text

"Things I do for you."

pairing: spiderman!mark x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship!AU, spiderman!AU

warnings: none (i think?)

word count: 852 words

a/n: happy late birthday to the bestest boy everr!!!!!!!!! this was a bit overdue LOL but i really wanted to post something for mark ^^ been in my major mark feels recently i couldnt help myself hehe

i know i havent been posting a lot, and that's because my new school semester had just started and i still trying to adapt and get used ot everything :) (got too comfortable for summer beak HAHA) been a stressful couple of weeks for me recently, and i haven't really gotten better, but i hope it do <3 i hope you all do to!!!!

networks/taglist: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @ficscafe @kflixnet @k-radio @nct-writers + @soobin-chois @addictedtothesummernights @markhyuckselca @jaehunnyy <3

Wednesday's are for staying up late and doing whatever you want, playing whatever games you want, watching as many movies as you want, anything, because you have nothing to do on Thursdays, no classes or extra tutoring like every other day.

And due to this, you wake up at 10 or 11 on Thursday. But today, when you wake up, and reach out for your phone to check the time, you are pleasantly surprised at the time being 09:27 AM.

You proceed to shift to a more comfortable spot on your bed, bringing your phone closer to your face to clearly see all the new uploads to your friends' stories. In the midst of watching one of Lee Jeno's dance covers, you get a text.

Thinking nothing of it, you swipe up on the notification, opting to read it later, after you're done watching, gushing, and bombarding Jeno with words of admiration.

Finally, you tap on the notification, and grow confused at the text.

Mina

Y/n where are you 😭

you're gonna get late to the discussion!!

Did you forget bc its a thursday T^T

Mina knew you too well.

"Shit!" Instantly, your sheets fly away, thrown across the room, as you scramble up to get to the bathroom.

It's when you're finished with washing your face, when you hurriedly pick up your phone. Your wet flingers slip across the screen, your phone unable to detect any of the movement, before you desperately wipe both your screen, and fingers on the sleeve of the sweatshirt you quickly threw on earlier.

Instantly, a number is being dialed, and instantly, the person picks up.

"Hey honey!" The tender voice of your boyfriend gives you a sense of reassurance and comfort in a mini panic session.

"Good morning, Mark," you breath out. You remember him mentioning something about enjoying it when you greet him a good morning. "look, uh, I have a group discussion at the library today, you think you can drop me off?"

"Sure, what time should I pick you up?" In a moment, you hear shifting from the other line, before light footsteps. A light jingle, supposedly from his car keys, makes you feel a little exasperated.

"About that,"

You hear Mark halt, before a confused noise slips from his lips.

"It's in—well, was—a minute ago. Think this calls for desperate measures.

"Fuck," Mark curses quietly, before tossing his keys back onto his desk. "The things I do for you, I swear. Better pay me back later!"

"Yeah, yeah," you dismiss. "thank you Mark, love you!"

Not even 5 minutes later, when you barely just finished getting ready, there' a soft knock at your window, and you whip around to find the familiar red and blue suit you love to see.

Your heart beats faster in your chest when Mark slips in your room, throwing his mask off. "You ready? Here, give me your bag."

He scurries around your room, grabbing your backpack, your phone, and chargers. He knows you tend to lose the latter.

Mark secures his mask around his face, climbing onto the window sill, before reaching his arms out to you. "Alright, let's go,"

Once you're secure in his arms, a flick of Mark's wrist and you're off, maneuvering his way to the alleyways, where you two would usually take, as nobody would be lurking there. Unless they were drunk.

You hang on to your dear life, shutting your eyes tight to try to suppress the feeling of thrill and butterflies you get whenever you're soaring in the skies.

You peek an eye open, which is instantly settled on Mark, as he expertly swings through the path. You find it very endearing how he would go to extreme measures go have you less late too some group discussion you could be a little late to.

Now that you realize it, this whole thing is probably bad. Mark risking his identity just for you to make it on time?

On the other hand, you feel so incredibly grateful that you're able to know this secret about Mark, heck, even knowing Mark sounds like a blessing.

The alleyway just 3 blocks from the library is where you land, where you jump from his arms, straightening out your outfit, before accepting all your belongings that Mark had held onto and kept safe.

"Quickly, quickly!" He mumbles, patting you.

Before he can fully push you away, you rush up to him, pulling his mask upwards just a little bit, before connecting your lips together sweetly.

The kiss lasts only for a few seconds, before Mark chuckles against your lips and pushes you away gently. One of his hands reaches up, cupping the side of your face, before he pats your cheek once, twice.

"Good luck, baby. Call me when you're finished, yeah?"

You nod instantly, wrapping your fingers around his clothed wrist, rubbing your fingers against his skin reassuringly, before you let go and start making your way to the library.

"Thank you again, spiderman! I'll get us some food to make up!"

Oh, the things Mark Lee would do for you.

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Text

"If You Simply Must Know" (Uni AU P. 7)

no tw!!

Your class at noon comes quickly enough as you try to focus on anything other than the anomaly of a man you've been presented with. Between scrolling through Instagram and staring off into space, you successfully manage to pass the time. However, you're a little too successful, because that said class starts in five minutes, which means you're going to have to sprint to get there.

When you do finally make it, the class is almost entirely full, leaving you one spot at a long table in the back. And much to your surprise, the six particularly interesting people you'd met over the past couple of days. From left to right, you see Wyll, Astarion, an empty seat between him and Lae'zel, Gale, Shadowheart, and Karlach. So, you take that empty seat, and playfully whisper to the man next to you.

"So much for that meeting."

He almost ignores you. Almost. There's a slight smirk, that you probably wouldn't have picked up on if you weren't looking for it. Remembering your schedule, you realize something quite odd. This is a mandatory public speaking class, which means all seven of you put it off for far too long, especially considering at least two of you are seniors. It almost makes you laugh, thinking about all of you avoiding a class like this until now. The introduction lecture passes by slowly, but soon enough the professor is introducing your first project.

"Now, since there are 21 of you in here, and you've already grouped yourselves accordingly, say hello to your groups for the quarter."

And everyone sitting at your table lets out some noise of dissaproval, and you can hear Gale and Shadow whispering to one another. After the professor finishes telling you where you can find the project details in the syllabus, you get up out of your chair, and sit on the table.

"Okay, listen up."

They almost don't listen to you, but you clear your voice until they all look at you.

"Now, I know we all have our differences here, and if we have to work together, we're all going to be nice about it. Gale, Shadow, Lae'zel, you have to be nice to Astarion, or else."

You then look at Karlach and Wyll on the ends of the table.

"And you two? I don't know what your problem is, but please, please get along. I do not want to baby all of you on how to be peaceful with one another, and I will not hesitate to put any of you in timeout."

"Timeout? What are we, children?"

Shadowheart asks.

"Well, you certainly act like it."

You glare at Astarion for the comment.

"Hey, I'm repping you right now, watch it. And yes, you all are acting like children, and I'm sick of it! Why can't we just try to get along, please? No more petty drama, at least while we have to be in class together?"

"But-"

"Gale, I swear to god, if you bring up the RA thing one more time, I'm going to drop out."

And that seems to do it, at least for the time being. They all reluctantly agree to deal with one another, and Astarion stays oddly silent after your comment about repping him to the group.

"Alright! I mean I only really have issues with Wyll, but it seems like the rest of you got something goin' on."

Karlach smiles, excited to get involved with the rest of you. Wyll goes to make a retort, but pushes it down when the two of you make eye contact.

"So, when do you all want to meet up to work on this?"

The seven of you begin discussing schedules, and Astarion says no to almost every proposed plan.

"God, can you just move some things around?"

Lae'zel is already getting frustrated.

"Funny that you think I can do that. Darling, I promise all my plans are far more important than some silly school project."

He does the thing again with his sleeve, hiding the grit of his teeth well.

"Tell me again why we can't just do Thursday? That's the only day I have free this week."

"Because I TA for Professor Mystra on Thursdays. It's an all-day endeavor."

You try your best to not get onto them again, instead dealing with the issues as they arise.

"Okay Gale, do you have like a lunch break on those days? Because if so, we could just do that."

"I suppose we could meet up for an hour at noon..."

He's clearly not happy to concede to Astarion's horribly busy life, but finally there's a plan.

"Perfect, Thursday at noon! Oh, and we should make a group chat."

Karlach collects everyone's Instagram handles as she passes her phone around the table.

"Nice to meet you guys, see ya! Oh, and bye Wyll."

She flips the bird before laughing and walking away, Shadow staring at her all the while. The group dissolves quickly, and you just so happen to walk Astarion's way when you all leave. You address him first.

"You not a walk and talk kind of guy?"

"Not many people want to walk and talk with me, and if they do it's usually just to tell me something, not to actually converse."

"Well, are you particularly against conversing?"

"No, I just don't have much to talk about I guess. A lot of things in my life have to stay private, whether I want them to or not."

"Okay, well we don't have to talk about modeling and stuff."

"You're quite funny Tav. That's the interesting part, that's what people always want to talk about."

He takes a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I don't care about all of that. I like knowing cool stuff about people, like their favorite color."

Astarion almost spits out his coffee with laughter.

"You're kidding? Like an elementary schooler? You're actually going to ask me what my favorite color is?"

You just nod, awaiting an answer.

"Fine. It's red, if you simply must know."

"Cool! See, was that so hard?"

He thinks to himself that yes, it was actually hard to believe someone wanted to know something so innocent and pointless about him, but he simply sighs.

"No, I suppose it wasn't."

The two of you walk and talk for a while, and you constantly wait for him to say he has somewhere else to be, but he stays. You wander aimlessly around campus for about an hour, wasting time away on silly questions about favorites, and eventually get on the topic of favorite book.

"That's too difficult for me. I read far too much for there to be only one answer to that question."

"Really? When do you ever have time to read?"

"Well, I have to read a lot for philosophy, and I often have issues sleeping. If I don't have time to actually sit down with a book I settle for audio books, but it's not the same."

He goes on talking for a while about his thesis project, something about morality stuff you don't fully understand, but you have this pang in your chest, a feeling that you could walk and talk to him for the entire day and feel as if you lost nothing. Astarion on the other hand, he's nervously waiting for you to tell him to stop talking, but he simply continues on, asking you about ethics dilemmas, the two of you laughing with each other for a very long time. In a split second, the smallest moment in time, he realizes someone is actually interested in him, as a person, and it takes every fiber of his being to push the feeling down so he doesn't tear up in front of you.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #x reader #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #karlach #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #freshiau

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ladyfogg · 2 years

Text

Hands-On Experience

Fic Summary: You’ve been bartending at The Hideout for months now, more than a little interested in the guitarist from Corroded Coffin. When you finally get a chance to talk to Eddie, he’s too cute to let get away and you suggest having some fun together. Eddie Munson Oneshots Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Inexperienced Eddie Munson/Experienced Female Reader (Reader is over 18)

Warnings: Language, Canon Divergent, Fingering, Oral (Male & Female Receiving), Safe Sex, Sex in Eddie’s Van because of reasons.

A/N: This is my contribution to Eddie Munson Appreciation Week. Enjoy!

You love bartending at The Hideout. It’s one of the easiest jobs you’ve ever had. Unless it’s Friday or Saturday night, things are pretty chill. Coming from a big city to someplace like Hawkins has its benefits. A job that you don’t have to break a sweat over and still get good pay plus tips? Priceless.

Thursday nights quickly become your favorite.

The crowd is non-existent, only the same five or six drunkards who come every day. But the music, that’s what you like.

Okay, maybe not the music per se, but the band.

Alright, not the whole band, just the guitarist.

He’s so fucking pretty. You’re not usually one to call a guy pretty but there’s no other word to describe him. His smile, his big brown eyes, the excitement he has when he gets on the stage is infectious. You can tell he loves music and he plays like a beast. You’ve seen enough bands in your time to recognize talent and he has it.

You ask around, trying to learn more about him. When you hear that he’s in high school you automatically ignore your attraction. Then you learn he was held back twice and is over eighteen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. After that, you keep staring with appreciation. He doesn’t notice at first. Honestly, he’s so into the music he doesn’t seem to notice much once he’s on stage.

One night, he catches your eye when they finish their set and his mouth splits into a grin. You smirk back giving him a blatant once over, then going about your business.

After that, he hangs around a lot more. First, it’s by the stage with his bandmates, all of them still riding the high of performing even though there aren’t many people in the crowd. Eventually, they move closer to the bar. Well, Eddie does.

It's a couple of weeks later when you finally have a conversation with him.

You’re too busy settling up a tab with a customer to notice at first. When you turn to put the money in the cash register, those brown eyes are staring right at you.

“Hi,” Eddie says, propping his chin on his fist as he leans on the counter.

“Hey, yourself,” you say, slipping the money away and closing the drawer.

“I’m Eddie.”

“I know.”

His grin widens. “And your name is…” he trails off, practically batting his eyelashes. You chuckle, telling him your name. He says it back and you love the way his voice wraps around the word. “I like it.”

“Me too. So what can I do for you, Eddie?”

“A beer would be great.”

“Cool. Let’s see some ID.”

“Orrr…you can pretend you saw my ID.”

Ballsy. Normally you have zero tolerance for people trying to get a drink out of you when they’re under the drinking age. For some reason, it’s different with Eddie. Maybe it’s those puppy dog eyes or his full lips that haven’t stopped smiling at you.

Damn, he really does have nice lips. They’re red and plump, begging to be kissed.

You can’t believe you’re actually considering. “That’s a pretty bold request so brownie points for that,” you say, resting both hands on the counter and giving him your full attention. “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

“What are you offering?”

Eddie bites his lip which is such a coincidence because you were thinking of doing the same thing. You wonder what he’d do if you did. If you two kissed and you took that bottom lip and rolled it between your teeth. He’d probably moan. He seems like a moaner.

“Well, how about, at our next show, I’ll dedicate a song to you?” Eddie suggests.

You laugh, you can’t help it. Not only is his offer super adorable, there is a slight naivety there that you aren’t expecting. Most musicians you’ve come across would have instantly suggested something sexual. You’d been outright flirting, more than ready to consider hooking up with him. Yet, that didn’t seem to be where his brain went. Or if it did, he’s playing coy.

“Tempting,” you say. “Very tempting, but a song for an illegal drink isn’t exactly a fair trade when my job is on the line. If you think of something else, let me know.”

And with that, you throw him a wink and turn away to get back to work. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you walk and you make sure you sway your hips a little, trying to give him a hint.

The two of you fall into a routine.

Every Thursday after the show, Eddie inevitably saunters up to the counter and tries to get a free drink out of you. Sometimes he has an offer, like the time he said he’ll write a song about you. Other times, he’s more interested in conversation, seemingily determined to make you laugh. You enjoy every minute, waiting for him to take it a step further. He never does. And it’s not because he’s not interested. He very clearly is.

You start to get the sense that this isn’t something he’s used to doing. Which, if you’re honest, makes him even more endearing. You’re perfectly happy matching his flirty attitude, learning bits and pieces about him each time. His bandmates are typically unimpressed with his flirting and always end up dragging him away after a time since he has to drive them and their equipment home.

Finally, after the fourth or fifth Thursday, you realize you’re going to have to take matters into your own hands.

The following Thursday, you watch Corroded Coffin take the stage. Tonight there are actually a few people in the audience which means it’s busy for a Thursday. Eddie catches your eye and grins as he plays the first chord. After that, it’s like he can’t take his eyes off you. Usually, when he plays, he’s completely focused on the music and his band’s little bubble on the stage. Tonight is different, tonight there’s this energy about him that you haven’t seen yet. His looks are heated, filled with longing and promise. You know yourself and the low heat building in your belly can only mean one thing.

You’re going to fuck Eddie Munson tonight.

With that decided, you go about your shift as usual. Every time you glance at the stage, he’s staring right at you. It makes you feel like he hasn’t looked away.

Perfect.

This time, once they finish playing, his bandmates scatter into the crowd to talk to the few friends who came to see the show.

Eddie comes up to the counter and leans on it, per usual, waiting for you to finish what you’re doing before grabbing your attention. With a smile, you copy his stance, bringing your face very close to his. “Yes, Eddie?”

This close, you can see a blush start to form across his cheeks and those brown eyes shamelessly flit between your eyes and mouth. “Saw you watching me while I was on stage.”

“I always watch you on stage. It’s about time you noticed.”

“Decided to give me that drink yet?”

“I would but there’s one thing you haven’t offered.”

“Oh, really? What’s that, sweetheart?”

You act like you’re going to kiss him but at the last second, you lean further to the right so that you can whisper in his ear. “How about, you take me into that van of yours, and we have some fun?”

You can feel him exhale excitedly and hear how he swallows and clears his throat. “That’s…uh…yeah. Yeah, definitely. Seems like a fair trade.”

“Oh, I’m still not giving you a drink. But we’ll see how things go after.”

You pull back and the look on his face is priceless. Those wide eyes are somehow even wider and there’s an adorable smile playing on his lips. The same lips you’ve been hopelessly thinking about over the last month or so. Is it finally going to happen? Are you going to have a chance to kiss that smirk away?

“What time do you get off?” he asks.

“That’s entirely up to you, Eddie.”

You can see the flush spread, watch as the tips of his ears turn bright red. His foot starts to bounce, making his whole body twitch. You can’t tell if it’s from excitement or nerves. Probably a combination of the two.

"What time are you done with work?” he amends, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips.

“In about an hour.”

“Meet you in the parking lot?”

“Can’t wait.”

You pull away, leaving him standing there, red-faced and breathing heavy. Your night just got a million times better. You expect him to hang around, however, shortly after your conversation, you catch him rounding his bandmates up in a flurry that’s equally charming and comical. Normally, they’re the ones to urge him along so it’s entertaining to watch the opposite happen. He literally pulls one of them away mid-conversation and you can hear him above the crowd going, “We have to FUCKING go! Get your shit so I can take you home!”

Laughing to yourself, you imagine him throwing his friends and their stuff into his van and gunning it so he can drop them off in time to get back to you.

Knowing it’s going to take him a bit, you’re in no rush and move slowly through the rest of your shift. Not many people hang around once the live music is done so you leave the task of closing up to the other bartender. When you finally grab your jacket and head outside, most of the parking lot is empty.

You don’t drive to work. Your apartment isn’t far and to save money you prefer walking. So when Eddie’s van comes careening around the corner, tires squealing as he slams on the brakes, you’re still there, leaning casually against the side of the building, watching him in amusement.

He puts the van in park and gets out, rushing around to the passenger side so he can open the door for you with a deep bow. “After you,” he says.

“Did you let your friends get out on their own or did you throw them from the car?” you tease, climbing in.

“They’re lucky I even stopped,” he says. You laugh and he slams the door, jogging around the front of the van to get back to the driver’s seat. He grins at you when he does. “Where to?”

There’s no way you’re taking him home. Not yet at least. As much as you’ve gotten to know him, he’s still a relative stranger. “There’s a little park up the road,” you say, leaning back. “Nice, quiet…secluded.”

“Say no more.”

Eddie peels out of the parking lot. You have the windows rolled down and enjoy the cool breeze whipping through. After being in a stuffy club for hours, you welcome the fresh air. The radio’s on, Iron Maiden blasting from the speakers as Eddie drums his hands along to the beat. You can sense his excitement, and apprehension. You start to wonder if the drumming is actually to the music or a nervous tic. He keeps glancing at you, smiling as if he’s amazed you’re sitting there next to him. However, there isn’t much conversation.

When he turns down the road to the park, he lowers the radio. “Anywhere in particular?” he asks.

“Yeah, just keep following the road until it forks. If you go left there should be some privacy.”

Eventually, he finds a spot where the trees can obscure you guys from view and he parks the van. Once he turns off the ignition, you’re met with silence. “So…” he says, leaning back in his seat. He turns to look at you. “What did you—?”

You don’t let him finish. You’ve already undone your seatbelt and spring into action. You yank on his leather jacket, tugging him into a kiss.

You can feel his body tense for a moment as shock takes hold. A second later, he’s relaxing and kissing you back, his hand cupping your cheek to draw you in closer. His mouth opens instantly and you find his tongue jabbing passed your lips in his excitement. Eager for more, you straddle him right then and there, your fingers dragging through his wavy hair.

Eddie lets out a noise of surprise, almost a whimper, and it makes you feral. The things you want to do to this guy. It’s been weeks of flirting and build-up, all leading to this very moment. You can feel his dick through his tight jeans and you grind down onto it, moaning against his mouth when the friction sends tendrils of desire to your core.

Drawing back to catch his breath, Eddie is already panting, staring at you in wonder. “Shit, that feels good,” he groans, his hands falling to your ass. He squeezes hard before holding you in place, stopping your grinding. “Can we just…” He swallows and nearly gasps for his next breath. “Just…um, slow down for a second?”

You pause, breathing heavily though not quite as out of breath as he is. Your mind races with everything you want to do to him. Yet, you can sense his hesitation. His nervousness hasn’t gone away and it makes you worried.

“Everything okay?” you ask. “Sorry, I thought you wanted—”

“I do, I do!” he says hurriedly, nodding his head in his excitement. “It’s just…shit, sorry, it’s all really intense, and I…” He trails off.

“Eddie, are you a virgin?” You haven’t considered he might be even though he’s only a year or two younger than you are. It would not bother you, either way, however if he is, you’d want to do something a little more special for him than riding his dick in the front seat of his van.

Eddie laughs nervously and even in the darkness, you can see the flush returning to his cheeks. “No, no I’m not,” he says. “But I haven’t…it’s only been a couple of times and they definitely weren’t like you.”

“Like me?”

“Hot, like really smoking hot,” Eddie says bluntly. “And apparently really eager to jump me. I mean, obviously, they were into it, didn’t mean to sound like a creep. Shit, now I’m babbling and you’re looking at me weird…fuck, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

You can’t help it. You laugh at his adorable mutterings, your body relaxing as you pump the brakes on your raging libido. “You’re not fucking anything up,” you assure him, pushing his hair back from his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so intense right out the gate. If you want me to get off—”

“No!” Eddie clutches you in place as you start to shift. “I mean, yes I want you to get off but not in the way you meant.”

Laughing again, you settle on his lap and slide your arms around his neck. “Take it slower?”

Eddie nods excitedly. “Yeah, yeah slower…for now.”

Happy to oblige, you lean in and steal another kiss. This one is the complete opposite of the one before, almost chaste by comparison. It starts with a simple press of lips, both of you getting acquainted with the other. As time slips by, you open your mouth, darting your tongue out to lightly brush Eddie’s before teasingly drawing back. He follows, licking the inside of your mouth, groaning when you finally let your tongue glide along his.

He’s rock hard between your legs and the rough fabric of your jeans presses into your clothed clit. You let out a low moan and Eddie cups your face again with one hand as his arm wraps your waist.

When you break to catch your breath, you two stay close, gazing into each other’s eyes. “Better?” you ask, breathless.

Eddie grins and nods. “Way better.”

“How far do you want this to go?”

“All the way. God do I want to fuck you.”

You kiss him, unable to stop yourself. Hearing that he’s inexperienced has stirred something inside you that you aren’t expecting. Your desire to take care of him is now competing with the desire to fuck his brains out. Until they merge into an amalgam of the two.

“Tell me, Eddie,” you say between kisses. You let those kisses travel down his cheek to his throat. He sucks in a breath when you do and you can feel him shudder beneath you. “What’s something you haven’t done yet that you’ve been dying to do?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Can I…can I go down on you?” You pause in surprise, drawing back to look him in the eye. “Is that…is that too much to ask? Is it a weird thing to ask right away? You know what, it’s fine, forget I said anything. I totally get it, we don’t have to—”

You press your finger to his lips. “You don’t need to backtrack, you just took me by surprise. Usually, guys want a blow job.”

“Well, I mean, I’m interested in that too. Haven’t had one before,” he says. “But I really really want to get my mouth on you.”

Fuck that’s hot. Here you are, making out and dry humping him, willing to help him experience a thing or two and the first thing he wants is to make you feel good? Eddie Munson needs to be careful or you may just keep him after this.

“That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you say.

His cute grin returns. “So is that a yes?”

“Munson, that’s a hell yes.”

You slot your mouth over his, cradling his face in your hands to keep him right where you want him. He kisses back excitedly, instantly opening his mouth to let your tongue go exploring. You’re acutely aware that the front seat is no longer an option for what you two are planning. Thankfully he has a wide open space in the back.

It’s Eddie’s turn to drag his lips down to your throat, nipping, licking, and kissing the area until he finds a spot that sends a shudder through your body. Excitedly, he latches onto it, sucking greedily, almost too hard yet staying on the pleasurable side.

“Maybe we should move this into the back,” you gasp when his other hand comes up to wrap around your throat, firmly holding you in place like he’s a vampire desperate for his next meal.

“One second.”

You realize that he’s trying to mark you, trying to leave a hickey behind. And you’re more than happy to let him. What started as a night to relieve some stress and have fun is quickly turning into something else, something more significant.

“Easy,” you groan, fingers burying into his hair again. “Use your lips more and be careful with your teeth.”

Instantly, he responds and it rips a loud moan out of you. Shit, you’re already so wet you can feel it soaking through your panties. When Eddie’s satisfied, he draws back to appraise his work. “Not bad,” he deems, running his fingertips across the tingling spot. “We’ll have to see how it looks tomorrow.”

Oh, wow, he’s already in that mindset. Yeah, this is definitely going to be something more.

And, honestly, you’re totally okay with that.

Giving him one more quick kiss, you slide from his body and into the bed of the van. He must have stopped by his home or something because his equipment is nowhere to be found. In fact, you smile as you see a few pillows and blankets haphazardly thrown about. Alright, that’s fucking adorable. Eddie Munson keeps checking off boxes you didn’t even know you had. He takes a second to collect himself before he follows you.

By then, you’ve kicked off your shoes and socks, and shrugged out of your jacket, piling all of them into the corner. Watching his lanky body slide into the back makes you chuckle. You lean on your elbows and watch him, taking in his features for the thousandth time. God, he really is a pretty man. Such a metalhead and yet so fucking pretty you want to stare at him for hours. Which, honestly, is what you’ve been doing ever since you first saw him on stage.

Eddie shrugs out of his leather jacket, leaving him in a black tank top with the words Corroded Coffin drawn across the front in white. He crawls over you, mouth eagerly searching for yours. The two of you meet, the radiating heat palpable. You’re glad he’s left the windows down because the cool breeze brings relief as well as the smell of the trees and grass. Everything outside the van is silent and it feels like you and Eddie are the only two people in the world.

As far as you’re concerned, you are.

Eddie draws back, his fingers tweaking the button of your jeans. “Can I—?”

“Absolutely.”

He kisses you excitedly, his fingers tugging until the button comes free. You lift your hips to help as he drags them down. He breaks the kiss to pull them off, chucking them into the corner with the rest of your stuff. You’re sitting there in your black t-shirt and black cotton panties. Faint moonlight filters into the van, giving you a better view of Eddie’s face.

His eyes are locked onto the spot between your legs, staring shamelessly.

You decide to give him a hand, and a show, slipping your thumbs under the hem of your panties and pulling them down. When you lift your knees, Eddie takes over, sliding them the rest of the way. They fall from his fingers when you slowly spread your legs.

“Holy shit,” he groans, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “You’ll tell me if I do something wrong, right?”

You can feel the anxiety coming off him and you sit up, cupping his cheek. “Hey, look at me. It’s just you and me here. You don’t have to get into your head about this, don’t worry about right or wrong. Use your mouth and I’ll let you know what feels good.”

He kisses you and you feel the tension melt from his body. Part of you is a little annoyed at his previous partners. Did they not take their time with him, make sure he’s had some goddamn foreplay? Or was he too excited to be with someone that he jumped right in? Either way, you’re determined to make this good for him. You lay back down, fisting his shirt to bring him with you.

Eddie settles his weight onto your body, kissing the life out of you as his hand travels. He cups your tit through your shirt and you hum in appreciation, your own hands doing some exploring of their own. You find the hem of his tank top and slide under it, reveling in the hard muscles of his back. He breaks the kiss and moves down your body, pausing where your shirt has lifted to place hot kisses across your exposed stomach.

Anticipation builds and you settle into one of the pillows, your hands weaving their way into Eddie’s hair. You don’t know what it is about that crazy mop that makes you want to keep running your hands through it or grab fistfuls and tugging. You’ll decide when you see where the night takes you.

Eddie lays the softest of kisses on your thighs, one hand stroking the tender flesh. You feel his thumb gently glide through your wetness and you suck in an excited breath. He does it again, a little firmer before his thumb wanders upward and presses to your clit. It makes you gasp, your body rocking from the sudden pleasure. The next thing you know, his mouth is on you and his tongue is soothing the over-sensitive nub. The sudden switch turns your body to jelly and you melt underneath him.

His mouth is aimless for a few moments as he moves from there to your slit, tonguing and testing, getting himself acquainted with your taste. Vibrations from his moan make your heart rate spike and your legs fall open further. His tentative licks become bold swipes, falling into a somewhat steady rhythm. You glance down and his eyes are closed. Fuck the way he’s moving his mouth and the little wrinkle between his eyebrows is killing you. It looks like he’s savoring it, losing himself in the task. That tongue returns to circle your clit and you moan loudly, your thighs snapping closed to trap him in-between them.

Eddie’s left hand wraps around your thigh, the cool metal from his rings searing into your heated flesh. You can feel his tongue circle your hole, either teasing or working up the courage to venture further. You lift your hips in encouragement, desperately needing to clench around something. Eddie, sweet Eddie, gets the hint loud and clear and slips his tongue inside you.

Your moan is louder this time and your hands clench, tugging on his hair. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. “Just like that.”

Spurred on by your encouragement, he starts to slide his tongue in and out. His right hand reaches around your thigh so that his thumb can give your swollen nub constant attention. You’re fucking gone.

How? How is this his first time doing this? It can’t be. He’s way too good, too quick, and responsive. You know he has zero reason to lie to you and obviously, you’re taking his word for it. Still. The man has skills, that’s for sure. Your eyes fall close and you lose yourself to the pleasure. A thin sheen of sweat is already coating your body, making you wrestle your t-shirt off in your impatience. You’re moaning and writhing constantly now, and when his hand disappears, you whimper at the loss, dragging your eyes open to see what the fuck is going on.

Brown eyes stare up at you from between your thighs, wide with wonder and dark with passion. Eddie pulls back to suck in a breath and you can see the slick glistening from those plump lips. “Shit you taste amazing,” he moans, leaning down for a quick lick. “I didn’t…fuck, I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

You open your mouth to speak but then he’s sliding his finger into you and you dissolve into a series of moans and whimpers.

You’re so fucking turned on it hurts. All the blood has rushed south and none is left in your brain. Eddie groans and his mouth falls back to your clit, sucking greedily as he fingers you. He’s harsh, unpracticed, yet it still feels so fucking good. He adds a second finger, pumping them roughly in and out of your aching core. Your hands run through his hair, petting him in encouragement.

“Leave…shit…leave them in,” you tell him. “Leave them deep…yes, yes like that. Just…fuck…just wiggle them.”

Eddie does as you say, burying his fingers in as far as they can go and it’s so goddamn good you know you’re going to cum. Your orgasm is approaching fast and your hips are in a constant state of motion, lost between grinding against his face and his hand.

You don’t even get a chance to warn him. The next thing you know, you’re cuming hard. Definitely harder than you’re expecting. Your body clamps down around Eddie’s fingers and your thighs hold him in place, leaving him no choice but to keep tasting you through your orgasm. Which he happily does.

Seconds later, you’re limp and panting beneath him as he lifts his head, this time with a huge fucking grin. “Good?” he pants.

“Fuck, Eddie!”

Eddie groans and gives you a few more licks. “Fuck is right. Shit, I’ve never felt a woman cum like that. I’ve never been able to taste a woman cuming.”

“I call bullshit.”

Eddie’s grin softens and his eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean?”

You force yourself onto your elbows so you can look him in the eye. “There is no fucking way that was your first time going down on someone.”

The grin is back and he wags his eyebrows. “So you’re saying I’m a natural?”

“I’m saying, take your pants off because I need to return the favor right now.”

His reaction is priceless. He scrambles to do as you say, rising onto his knees. His head almost hits the roof of the van in his excitement but he manages to duck at the last second. Body still trembling, you sit up to help. His belt is tossed away and he’s barely managed to unbutton his jeans before you’re lifting his shirt, trailing your lips down the dark happy trail you know you’re going to become obsessed with.

Eddie groans, pushing his jeans down and then sitting back. He kicks out of his sneakers and manages to wiggle his socks off. You’re eye to eye with him now and can smell yourself on him. It makes you dive forward into a kiss, attacking those lips you’ve been admiring for so long. He kisses back eagerly, whimpering in the back of his throat as you nip at him.

“Do you want to know a fun fact?” you ask, mouth still pressed to his as you work his underwear down over his hips.

“What’s that?”

“The shade of a man’s lips are almost exactly the same shade as the head of his dick,” you say, drawing back yet leaving your forehead pressed to his so you can look into those beautiful brown eyes. “Which means every time I’ve been staring at your lips I’ve had a pretty good picture of what your dick looks like.”

As if to drive home your statement, you look down. Sure enough, your gaze takes in the swollen red head of his dick. Your body clenches in excitement, desperate to take him in and squeeze the life out of him.

Eddie swears, watching you hungrily stare at his dick. “Do you…holy shit, do you do that often?”

You look back up at him with a smirk. “All the time.”

He kisses you and you give him a few firm strokes. The way he twitches and pulses in your hand makes you feel powerful, desirable. When you break the kiss, it’s to gently push Eddie onto his back, making sure he’s comfortably spread out underneath you. The visual is going to be burned into your memories for decades. Eddie with his hand tucked behind his head, staring at you with excitement, his black tank top riding up, showing off that delicious happy trail that leads to his gorgeous dick, framed with dark curls. Seeing him hard and needy makes your mouth water.

A voice in your head reminds you it’s his first blow job, which is the only thing that stops you from sucking him down the base in one go. You kiss away the drop of precum, letting your tongue dart out to lick a teasing circle. He swears and his hips automatically jerk up, seeking more. You wrap your lips around his red tip and suck gently, letting your tongue do all the work to start. You want to warm him up, get him used to the sensation.

Eddie moans, allowing his head to fall back as he surrenders to the pleasure. None of that nervous energy is here anymore. It’s replaced with excitement and raw desire. You can tell by his urgently rolling hips.

That’s what is drawing you to Eddie, what’s making your mind a hazy mess in the cramped bed of his van. He’s completely transparent, not laying there trying to act tough or cool by hiding his emotions. Nah. You don’t have to guess if he’s liking it or you don’t have to guess what he wants next. If he’s not outright telling you words, he’s doing it with his body, showing you in the way he keeps thrusting up, or how he fists the blanket under his hand.

“More,” he moans. “Please, more. I…fuck…I can take it.”

You bet he can. Which is great because you’re getting greedy. Now that you finally have your mouth around him, you need it as much as he does. You work your mouth a little, first taking the head of his dick, then doing more, taking more in, until you’ve set a smooth up and down rhythm. Each time you go down further, suck harder, press your tongue along the underside of his dick. Your hand follows your mouth with firm strokes, alternating between a tight and loose grip to see which pulls the strongest reaction out of him.

Turns out he prefers tight.

Eddie is a babbling mess. “Shit, holy shit, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans. “God damn, this is amazing. God damn. Fuck!”

You pull off to catch your breath, still stroking as you smirk up at him. “Tell me how you really feel, Munson,” you tease.

Eddie doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m so fucking turned on it hurts. It’s taking all of my fucking willpower not to fuck that fucking mouth of yours. I can’t tell if you’re an angel sent to take care of me or the devil sent to destroy me.”

“Sweetheart,” you say, squeezing harder. “I’m both.” You swipe at the head of his dick with your tongue. “Feel free to grab my head. You won’t hurt me. I won’t choke on your dick…unless you want me to.”

Eddie swears. “Jesus H. Christ, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No, just suck your brains out through your dick.”

You take him into your mouth once more, as far as you can until he hits that back of your throat. He says your name, hands flying down to grab your head. His hips jerk up and you do gag for a second. But it quickly passes and you let him keep doing it, until he’s fucking your mouth like you know he’s been dying to. The only thing stopping him from going faster is that his underwear and jeans aren’t all the way off. You can tell that they’re constricting his legs, hear the way he shuffles them in the fabric. He huffs in annoyance.

After a quick pause to free him from his clothed prison, you get right back to it.

Now things really start to heat up. He’s coated in spit and precum, making every thrust into your mouth slick and easy. His whole body is in a constant state of movement, between his gyrating hips, grabby hands, and mouth chanting your name. Fuck his thickness is going to feel so fucking good when you finally take him into your cunt. You reach down to cup his balls, squeezing and massaging them while sucking hard on his pulsing shaft.

“S-Stop,” Eddie suddenly says with urgency. “Stop, stop!”

Immediately, you pull off and break all contact. “Are you okay?” you pant, your heart racing though now it’s from fear and worry than excitement.

Eddie pushes himself up on his hands, his arms shaking. “Y-Yeah sorry, it was just…I was going to cum.”

You relax and smile. “Dear god, Eddie, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you resume, now jerking him off. “You can cum in my mouth. I want you to.”

Eddie groans and desperation. “Fuck, I want to. Trust me, I do. But I want to fuck you more and if I cum right this second I’m going to be fucking useless for the rest of the night.”

Laughing and still breathless, you sit up and stretch your tense back. “Works for me.”

Eddie struggles to sit up but once he does, he draws you close to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, holding his face in your hands as your tongues dance together wildly. Your body is still humming, still wanting more even after his amazing oral display. Eddie draws back and looks down, as if noticing for the first time that your shirt is gone. He slides his hands up your back to unhook your bra and watches as you take it off.

Making a noise that sounds like a strangled moan, he bends his head, taking one of your stiff nipples into his mouth. He grabs at your tit roughly, sucking greedily at the same time and sending liquid heat down to your aching cunt.

“Do you have condoms?” you ask, voice breathless with need.

Eddie draws back and nods excitedly. “Yeah, in my wallet.”

You break apart so you can find them while he gets rid of his tank top. The wallet is in his back pocket, poking out as if it too is ready for more. You pull out a condom. When you look back at Eddie, he’s staring at your body, his hand making light trails up and down your side. You admire him right back, seeing him completely naked for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me.”

“Well believe it. And if you play your cards right, maybe I’ll invite you to stay at my place tonight.”

His eyes light up and he bites his bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Eddie kisses you hungrily and you grapple with each other, eager to feel skin on skin. He lays you onto the pillows, and when he does you can feel his dick twitching against your thigh. Drawing back, he takes the condom from your hand and you watch him rip off the foil wrapper and toss it carelessly to the side. He rolls the condom onto his dick, giving himself a few strokes while he stares hungrily at you. He rises up to kneel between your legs.

“Take your time,” you tell him. “We’re not in any rush. We can go as slow as you need.”

“I think I’m done with going slow.”

Shit, how does that phrase sound hot?? It shouldn’t be! But when Eddie says it, standing there with his hard dick jutting out towards you and his bedroom eyes, you lose all your senses. Suddenly, he grabs your thighs and uses them to yank you towards him, while simultaneously pressing your knees into your chest.

Your heels slam against the roof in surprise and then, he’s pushing into you and fucking hell this is the best god damn thing you’ve ever felt.

Even as turned on as you are it’s a stretch. A delicious, torturous stretch that rips a gasp out of you. It’s like something inside of Eddie snaps when he hears the sound. With hands placed on either side of your waist, he starts to fuck you, hard, barely giving you a chance to get used to him, absolutely drills himself into your willing body, going from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye.

The van shakes from the force. Your tits bounce and you desperately reach up to try to find something to grab, something to keep you anchored but there isn’t anything. Your hands slide uselessly across the carpeted floor until they hit the wall. It’s solid enough, it’ll do. You press your palms to it and all you can do is lay there and take it, take Eddie’s pounding while your feet dig into the metal roof.

And do you ever want to fucking take it from him.

Your body is consumed by the hot lava of desire that Eddie suddenly fucks into you. He’s staring at your face the entire time, taking you in, tongue poking out between his lips in deep concentration. What’s he thinking when he sees you this way? You don’t know. His words have stopped as his entire focus is drawn to the way your cunt feels. His guitar pick dangles from his neck and you want to grab onto it, so you do, using it to pull him into a harsh kiss. It throws off his momentum while he hungrily accepts, but then he’s right back to it a moment later.

For a moment, you worry, thinking he’s going too hard, too fast to be able to last. However, seconds turn to minutes and his pace doesn’t let up in the slightest. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. How can he fuck you this hard for this long?

His hooded eyes never leave your face, those plush lips parted as he pants. His gaze has switched from awe to unfiltered hunger. This isn’t the Eddie who stared up at you in wonder from the front seat. No, this is Eddie unhinged. And you love every fucking second of it.

Your knees start to cramp and as fucking spectacular and deep as this is, you can’t let him have all the fun.

You lower your legs and push yourself up, breaking his rhythm and knocking him onto his ass. His back hits the front seat and you don’t give him any time to react. You scramble onto him and your hand digs into the faded leather as you impale yourself on his dick. If he doesn’t want to take it slow anymore, you’ll show him what going fast means.

You ride him. Harder than you normally ride a one-night stand, harder than you would ride someone with as little experience as Eddie has.

Something tells you he can take it. Maybe it’s the groan that’s ripped out of him or the way his hands grab at your ass, metal rings pressing into your flesh. Mostly it’s the way his hips shoot up to meet yours. One arm suddenly wraps around your waist and he yanks you close so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

The van rocks and groans along with you and outside, the quiet of the park is broken by the sounds of skin on skin, moans of pleasure, and your wet arousal. Eddie is moaning constantly, his mouth switching from one tit to the other before he throws his head back.

“Fuck, holy fucking shit,” he warns, his chest heaving. “I’m not going to…shit, I’m not going to last much longer.”

You barely can focus on what he’s saying, your eyes drawn to his chest. You can see his chest tattoos now, something you hadn’t noticed earlier in your excitement and the low light. His eyes stray down and you realize he’s staring at the place where your bodies connect, watching you grind desperately on his lap. Shit, he’s so fucking excited, so eager to watch what’s happening. Seeing his expression squeezes your heart, threatening to crush it within your chest.

You don’t stand a chance.

You yank on his hair to get his attention, needing to feel that mouth on yours. His kisses are sloppy and wonderful, everything you want from him in that moment. When he draws back, the moonlight hits his face. “Close,” he moans. “Babe, I’m close.”

“Are you going to cum for me?” you pant, greedily soaking in his appearance. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You catch it before he can pull it back in, sucking greedily on it and making him gasp.

“Yes, fuck yes, I am,” he responds while taking your harsh kisses. You finally get to sink your teeth into his bottom lip and his hips jerk up a final time. “SHIT! FUCK! I’M CUMING.”

His entire body rocks with the force of his release and he yanks your hips down, keeping himself buried all the way as he grinds himself into you. A second later, his hand is between you both, thumb rubbing your clit a little too hard.

It doesn’t matter. It’s more than enough.

You cum and this time, you’re doing the grinding, trying to keep him in place even as he starts to get soft. You ride out the waves of pleasure, milking him for all you can until you collapse against his chest, sweating and panting.

Eddie’s arms are like a vice around your waist. He nuzzles your cheek, places kisses on your throat, and purrs like the most satisfied cat in the world. “Fuck that was everything I wanted it to be.”

You’re too spent to say anything at first, perfectly content to lay there while he starts to rub your back. Eventually, you withdraw from his chest, seeking a sweet kiss. “I am not going to be able to walk right for a few hours.”

Eddie gives a breathless laugh, lips pressing quick kisses to yours. “Sorry I got a little rough there.”

“Never apologize to me for fucking me hard. It was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

You pull back to look him in the eye, seeing a hint of self-doubt. You push his hair back from his face, stroking his cheek as you do. “Fuck yes. You were spectacular.”

He grins, looking incredibly proud of himself. “Are you going to finally give me that drink when I come in again?”

Humming and pretending to ponder his question, you slide your arms around his neck. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease. “If you bring me home we can discuss it further.”

“Does this mean you want me to spend the night?”

You nod, hugging him close and pressing your forehead to his. “Absolutely. I don’t work again until tomorrow night. That leaves plenty of time for me to give you more hands-on experience. Unless you have somewhere to be?”

“Fuck no. If you’re asking if I’m going to choose between having a bunch of sex with you or sitting in a stuffy classroom listening to shit I don’t care about, I’m going to choose sex every time.”

Laughing, you rest your head on his shoulder, not quite ready to move yet. Eddie seems just as eager to stay there for the time being, his hands still stroking your back. He reaches around for a second until he finds one of the blankets, which he wraps around the both of you.

“Can we stay here like this for a bit?” he asks, kissing your forehead.

His voice is suddenly so soft and unsure. Fuck, how does he do that? How can he be sexy and feral one minute then gentle and goofy the next? There’s so much more to Eddie Munson than meets the eye. And you’re determined to experience every side of him.

“Only if you keep kissing me,” you say, smiling up at him.

Eddie trails his fingers along your jaw, before tilting your chin up with his forefinger and bringing your lips within reach. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t stop even if I tried.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson appreciation week #joe quinn #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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anglophiletraveler · 19 days

Text

In My Life

Chapter 37

Pressure

Written by Billy Joel

**********************

Poor Ross. The guy is getting pulled into a couple of different directions, when all he wants to do is keep everyone happy and marry the love of his life! A big thanks to Karen Bockius for supporting me, and also to my friend Chelsea who works in a human resources department and advised me on how the situation with Jenny should go. Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted a new chapter. I’ll try to keep writing faster. Enjoy!

***********************

The work week started back up again for Ross and Demelza, and the normal business of their lives got even busier with starting to plan their wedding. The phone calls and emails from Caroline definitely amped up ten-fold. Ross made sure that she was including him on the emails not because he was really into planning the wedding, but because he didn’t want her overwhelming Demelza. He wasn’t afraid to drop a hint to Caroline that something wasn’t cool. Demelza had decided on having Ross come along for the wedding dress appointment, much to Caroline’s chagrin. And to make things even, Ross decided to have Dwight go along as well, which Dwight wasn’t exactly happy about, but he said he would go for his best mate.

Things at work with Jenny had gotten somewhat better, or so Ross thought. Jenny had calmed down her attitude toward Demelza, so that made Ross happy. He thought a lot about Jenny and her family back in Cornwell and didn’t want to upset anyone. Ross was feeling more comfortable in his position as director of the charity division. He really enjoyed the feeling of helping people and making a small difference in their lives. It was a much better fit for him.

Ross and Jenny were just finishing up a meeting in his office, when he mentioned to Jenny to make sure that his calendar stayed clear for Thursday morning.

“Sure, I can make sure I do that. Do you have a meeting or something that you need my help with in getting ready for?”

“No, I’m just taking a few hours off to go wedding dress shopping with Demelza,” Ross just threw it out there like it wasn’t a big deal, and it really wasn’t to him.

“Wait, you’re what!?” Jenny’s voice raised a little bit.

Ross was still looking down at some papers on his desk and smiled and without looking at her, “I’m going wedding dress shopping with Demelza. She asked me to go along, so I’m going with her.” He sat up and looked at Jenny. “What?”

“Wellll, it’s just the groom usually doesn’t go with the bride to shop for her wedding dress. Because you know, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Jenny, it’s okay I’m not going to see the actual dress she picks, if she even picks one that day. I’m just going to support her. She asked me to go, so I’m going. Sorry if that bothers you.” Ross didn’t like where this was going, but maybe it’s a reaction from others that he will have to get used to. He realised that it isn’t something that the grooms don’t usually do, but on the other hand, people don’t know about Demelza’s scars that she’s sensitive about and he’s not about to justify himself to anyone.

“So does this mean that you’ve picked a date?” Inquisitive minds want to know.

Ross sighed, “Yes, Jenny we have. June 3. Is that alright with you?” Ross watched for the next reaction because he had an idea of what was next.

“June 3! That’s soon! Wow, not a very long time to plan a wedding.”

Ross smiled to himself, “Yes, but it will be fine. We want the wedding before my mother has her surgery. And it’s not like we’re going to be planning a royal wedding. It’s going to be small and personal.”

Jenny gave a small smile, “That sounds lovely. Do you have a wedding planner?”

“Nah, we don’t need one. Caroline is going to help us out. The wedding and reception will be at her uncle’s home in Cornwall. It’s all good. Very low stress.”

“Oh. I’m surprised you’re not getting married at Nampara.”

Ross looked up at the ceiling, sighed and took a beat. “Jenny, that's way too much stress for my mum right now. We’re going to have some pictures taken there, and then the rest will be at Killewarren with family and close friends. Now why don’t you go work on the agenda for the Lawson meeting for me, yeah?”

“Sure, Ross.” Jenny knew she was being politely dismissed, so she tucked her tail and left his office. She laid her things on her desk calmly and headed for the restroom to get herself together. She locked herself in a stall and started crying. She didn’t understand what was happening! She and Ross used to be so close. He had never had a cross word for her before, was always so encouraging and kind and nice. The only thing that’s changed is Demelza. Ever since Demelza has come into his life, he’s been a completely different person! She’s changed him! And now he acts like an idiot! It’s all her fault! She couldn’t believe that he was going with her to shop for wedding dresses! Is she so insecure that she can’t pick out a fucking wedding dress without him! She’s glued to his hip! This isn’t her Ross! She’s changed him. It’s all her fault. She couldn’t stop crying, and it sounded like she was mumbling to someone.

What Jenny didn’t know was that there was someone a couple stalls down from her. It was Sharon, an assistant to one of the vice-presidents. She left the stall quietly and washed her hands. When Jenny heard someone else she was mortified. Oh shit! What did I say? Did someone hear me?

“Hello? Do you need some help? Can I call someone for you?” Sharon didn’t know who it was crying in the stall but it was very obvious that they were distressed.

Jenny tried to stop crying, and calm herself down, “Um no, I’m okay.” She stepped out of the stall, and saw Sharon standing there and gave her a small smile. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I just, um, need to calm myself down. I got some bad news today. But thank you. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I’d be willing to call someone for you. Don’t you work for Ross Poldark? Would you like me to get him for you?” Sharon replied.

Jenny gasped, “Oh no, please don’t. I’m just going to splash some cold water on my face and I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with,” Sharon gave her a tight smile and left the restroom.

Jenny finally was able to get herself together, got a fresh cup of coffee and went back to her desk. She was hoping that Ross hadn’t noticed how long she had been gone.

Ross had noticed that she’d been gone awhile, but he didn’t want to say anything more to upset her. She seemed to be alright after she came back so maybe she just needed a breath of air and hopefully the rest of the day will go better.

********************

At Trenwith, Francis and Elizabeth were having drinks before dinner, chit chatting about nothing in particular. Charles came into the room and poured a drink for himself and sat down.

“How has your day been father? Anything interesting happen?” Francis asked his father.

“Oh no, one day is about the same as the next anymore. I think I may go into the office tomorrow and see how you are running things,” Charles scoffed.

Francis looked at Elizabeth, “Well, there’s no need for that father. Everything is smooth sailing like always. Have you spoken with Verity lately?”

Charles grumbled, “Verity? Why would I hear from her? She’s still shacking up with that boyfriend of hers.”

“Charles, I’ve heard that he’s not as bad as you think. Maybe you should meet him for Verity’s sake,” Elizabeth was trying to steer the conversation from business because she had a feeling that Francis wasn’t taking very good care of it.

“Bullocks! Oh, I just remembered something interesting did happen today. I ran into my brother at the pub earlier. He was picking up some fish and chips for Grace. Anyway, it seems that Ross and his new girlfriend have set a wedding date. I think he said it’s June 3.” Elizabeth choked on her drink at the news of Ross and Demelza’s wedding date.

Francis saw his wife choking on her drink, “Darling are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?”

Elizabeth’s eyelashes were fluttering trying to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks, “Erm, no thank you, my drink just went down the wrong pipe. Charles, are you sure their wedding is this June 3?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, yes, this June 3. They want to have the wedding before Grace’s surgery, poor thing. I offered to have the wedding here, but Joshua said that it’s already been planned to have it at Killewarren so that Grace doesn’t have the upset and worry of having the wedding at Nampara. I told him they should have the wedding on a family estate, but apparently the girl has connections with Ray Penvenan’s niece, so it’s all set. But I guess they’re going to have some pictures taken at Nampara. Where’s Mrs Tabb? Our meal should be ready by now!”

“Elizabeth you’re awfully pale, do you need to have a lie down?”

“Francis stop, I don’t need you fawning over me. I can’t believe they’re getting married so quickly. Ross doesn’t know what he’s doing by getting involved with that woman.”

Francis looked puzzled, “I don’t understand? She seems like a lovely person the few times that I’ve talked with her. And I can certainly understand that they’d want to get married before Aunt Grace’s surgery. Makes perfect sense to me…”

Elizabeth stood up in huff, “Oh Francis just shut up. You don’t know anything about her. I’m going to see what’s happening with supper.”

Charles looked over his glasses and watched as Elizabeth left the room in a hurry and then looked at Francis, “Seems to me boy, that your wife still has feelings for Ross. You better be reining her in, or you’re going to lose her. If Ross wanted her, it wouldn’t take much for him to steal her from you.”

Francis’s face flushed as his father reprimanded him.

“Mark my words, boy! Mark my words!”

Francis gulped his whiskey down and left the room.

**********************

The next day at work, Jenny had definitely seemed off again to Ross. He was concerned about her for more than one reason. Her family had been lifelong friends of the Poldarks, he had brought her onboard here with a job because he knew her family needed money. And she has always been a good worker, very conscientious of her work, typical of a Cornish family. But she almost seemed depressed, and not happy with her job anymore. This was a new situation for Ross and he really didn’t know what to do. He decided to go to Richard Tonkin and ask for his advice. His family was also from Cornwall and had known the Martin family as well, so maybe he had some insight.

Tonkin’s door was open, but Ross knocked a few times on it anyway. “Ross! Good to see you mate, come on in and close the door.” When Ross walked in he noticed Richard’s secretary Sharon sitting in the office as well. The slight confusion must have shown on Ross’s face, “Have a seat Ross. I’ve asked Sharon to come in on this conversation as well. It’s always good to have a third person in the room when discussing issues such as this.”

“So,” Tonkin started, “you’re beginning to have issues with Jenny. Is her work no longer satisfactory?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s feeling personal. We used to be great friends. Well, you know the Martins from Cornwall.”

“Yes, I do. Lovely family.”

“Exactly. So when Jenny’s family needed some more income brought into the family, I had given her a trial period for two months to see how she would do, and she turned out to be quite excellent in her job. She’s very good with the computer programs that we run on, she’s full of good ideas ever since we moved to the Charity Department. But personally she’s become almost confrontational with me when it comes to my personal life, and she’s never done that before.”

Richard looked at Sharon and nodded to her to let Ross know how she had found Jenny in the restroom the day before. “She was an absolute mess, Ross. I offered to call you or anyone else for her but she was adamant that she was fine and she didn’t need anyone. She had been talking with herself in the stall before I spoke with her. I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, it was a lot of mumbling. Has something happened between the two of you?”

“Yes, and that’s exactly the scenario that I’ve been worried about. We’d had a decent day working together and we were working on a new client. Then I told her that I needed her to make sure that she didn’t schedule any appointments for me on Thursday morning because I was going with Demelza wedding dress shopping. It was as if she were Linda Blair in the Exorcist and her head was spinning around! She started going on and on about how I shouldn't go wedding dress shopping, and that it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.”

Sharon spoke up, “Well some people always have to give their two pence when it comes to weddings and babies. But still, it’s really none of her business as your assistant. Have you shared such details of your life with her before?”

“Well, yes. Back in Cornwall our families are very close. She knows about my brother Claude Anthony’s death, she knows about my mother’s cancer diagnosis. And she’s known about Demelza since we began dating. I don’t give her a lot of personal details about our relationship. It never seemed to bother her until the last couple of months. She started speaking ill of Demelza, like she was always blaming Demelza if I had to stay up late to pick her up from the music hall. Demelza doesn’t drive and I don’t want her riding the tube that late at night by herself, so I usually stay up to pick her up. I have had to remind her at one point that my relationship with Demelza isn’t any of her concern. I hated to do that, but she kept pushing and pushing against Demelza so I was stern with her when I told her that my relationship with Demelza isn’t any of her business. Then yesterday with the wedding dress shopping… I’m at a loss, Richard.”

“Yes, I see that. Well, make sure you keep your office door open whenever the two of you are working together in your office. And whenever she’s not in the office, keep your door closed. Sharon, can you think of anything else.”

“Well Ross, it’s obvious that she has a thing for you, almost like an obsession. Has there been any sexual contact between the two of you? We don’t want her to go over the deep end and start yelling sexual assault.”

“Absolutely not. And I don’t want her to lose her job. She’s a very good assistant. Can she just be moved to a different division?”

Tonkin let out a sigh, “I don’t know. I think we need to bring in HR on this and get their take on things. They are better trained at this type of thing than we are. Sharon, can you see if they have anybody free to come up here for just a few minutes.”

“Sure, I’ll go to my desk and call them. I’ll be right back.”

“This is dangerous business Ross. We don’t want you to be accused of something that you didn’t do, and we don’t want Jenny to freak out over a move to a different department,” Tonkin said.

“I know. I’ve been hoping that it would just blow over, but it hasn’t.”

“Her family are so nice, really good people…”

Sharon came back in the room and closed the door, “They’re going to send someone up. They should be here shortly.”

Ross sighed, “Thank you Sharon.”

“No problem. So you’re going all modern groom and going wedding dress shopping? Nobody can accuse you of being a caveman,” Sharon said.

Ross chuckled, “Well, it’s not something that I’m thrilled with, but her mother died long ago, and she’s been estranged from most of her family. She’s concerned about what the back of the dress will reveal. She has scars on her back from when her father used to beat her. So she asked me if I would come along. I couldn’t say no to that.”

Richard leaned forward in his chair, “That’s horrible. What father would beat his children!”

“Tom Carne would. When Demelza got accepted to uni she left home and hasn’t been back since. I keep telling her that for the most part her scars have faded, but I understand where she’s coming from.”

Richard nodded his head in agreement, “Yes, my friend, you would understand. Tom Carne…that name sounds familiar. Is he from Sawle?”

“Illugan. We think he’s still alive because he’s contacted one of Demelza’s brothers for money. Hopefully, he never finds out where we are…”

There was a knock on the door. Sharon got up and answered the door. It was James Ellis from the Human Resources department.

*************************

James Ellis was a well respected member of the human resources department. He had worked at the firm almost from the beginning of its inception, and was known to be a fair and decent man whenever it came to awkward or sticky situations. He was taking plenty of notes, handwritten in a yellow tablet while Ross and Richard spoke describing the situation, and their past history with Jenny and her family.

“So what do you think James? Have any idea of how Ross should proceed?” Richard asked.

James took a sip of his tea and sat back in his chair. “Well, there are a few different avenues that could be taken, depending on how far you want to take this.”

Ross was listening intently, brows furrowed, “Avenues… what kind of avenues?”

“Well, one direction we could take would be a written warning of her behaviour. She could then either keep working for you, Ross, in hopes that things get better, or we could give her the written warning and transfer her to a different department. Either way, she needs to know that although her job performance itself has been exemplary and well regarded, her present behaviour towards you is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Normally, an employee isn’t allowed to transfer to another department if they’ve had a written warning, but we’d make an exception for something like this, since the warning isn’t for job performance. And then there’s the last option that we could take, immediate dismissal.”

Ross gasped and shook his head no, “No, I don’t want her to be dismissed. Is there any type of counselling that the firm could offer her?”

“You mean psychological counselling? Mmm that could be offered as well for possibly a ten week period.”

Sharon spoke up, “Ross, do you really think she would want to keep working for you after she’s received a written warning? She might be too upset or maybe even embarrassed to keep facing you on a daily basis.”

Ross was slowly nodding his head, “I..I don’t know Sharon. Maybe not. Bullocks I hate this! I really, really hate this.”

James closed his notebook, “Well, think on it, but don’t take too long. The last thing you want is for this to blow up in your face, although now that you’ve spoken with us, you do have that on your side. But make sure that if you decide to have a conversation with her about this, that you have someone from HR in the room. Make sure you always leave your door open when she’s in your office working with you, and when she’s not working with you, keep your office door closed.” James gathered his things into his briefcase and stood up, “Let me know what you decide.”

Ross stood up and shook hands with James, “I will. Thank you for your advice.”

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for. Sharon, Richard, it was good to see you both again.” Sharon and Richard both stood up to shake hands with him.

“Thanks again, James. Sharon can you show James out,” Richard asked.

“Certainly. After you James,” Sharon led James out of the office and down the hall to the elevator.

Richard closed the office door and turned to look at Ross, “Well Ross, you have a lot to think about. Do you have any idea of what direction you want to take?”

Ross sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, “I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to a decision like this. I guess the best choice would be to have her move to another department.”

“With a written warning, don’t forget,” Richard said.

Ross shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head, “Christ, with a written warning. It’s madness Richard!” Ross took a look at his watch, “Bloody hell, look at the time, I better get back to my office. Thank you for your help in this matter, Richard. I know I’ve been a bit of a git about this, but it’s only because I care about Jenny a great deal, she’s like family to me.”

“Well, unfortunately she doesn’t think of you in that way. Maybe this will help her Ross. You know, wake her up to what she’s been doing so that she can move on.”

Ross raised his eyebrows, “That is another way to look at it. Alright, well I shall keep you informed. Thanks again.” The two men shook hands and Ross left to go back to his office. He was hoping that Jenny was not at her desk when he got back because he didn’t know what to say to her if she asked where he’d been. She always knew about his meetings, almost before he did. He really didn’t want to deal with an awkward situation at the present moment.

Ross was almost to his office and could see that Jenny was at her desk, so he braced himself for her barrage of questions.

She spotted him and smiled and stood up to stop him before he was at his office door, “Oh Ross, I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure where you were but I didn’t think you’d be long.”

Ross furrowed his brow, “Jenny, what are you going on about?”

“Your friend, Dr. Enys came to see you, so I let him sit in your office until you returned.”

“Oh, is he still in there?”

“Yes. I offered him something to drink but he said he didn’t want anything. Do you want some coffee or tea?”

Ross’s head was spinning from his previous meeting and this encounter with Jenny. “Um yeah, get us both some coffee. He takes his like I do mine.”

“But he said he…”

“It’s fine Jenny, just get it please. He’ll drink it. Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Ross took a deep breath after she left and then walked into his office and greeted his best man, “Dwight! I hope you weren’t waiting long. I was at a meeting.”

Dwight was smiling just like he always does, “Yeah, that’s what Jenny figured. She wasn’t sure exactly where you were. You look like shit, mate. What’s wrong?”

Ross rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Well, gee thanks, I’m glad to see you. What can I do for my favourite best man?”

“I’m your only best man….”

Jenny walked in with the two coffees.

Dwight looked up at Jenny and smiled, “Thank you Jenny. I hope this wanker doesn’t keep you running for coffee too often.”

Jenny smiled, “Oh no Dr. Enys, not at all. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Ross looked at his watch again and it dawned on him it was getting close to the end of the day, “No thank you Jenny, in fact, why don’t you just take the rest of the day off. This day has been a wash as far as I’m concerned.”

Jenny looked confused, “Are you sure? It’s just now 3:00.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Have a good evening. Just close the door as you leave, please.”

Jenny smiled and pulled the door shut behind her.

Ross sat down and took a drink of his coffee, “Wish that I had something stronger I could put in there.”

Dwight frowned at his friend, “I had already told her that I didn’t need anything to drink. What’s wrong with you? You didn’t answer me before.”

“Hmmm, I asked her to get you a cup as well. If you don’t want it you don’t have to drink it. There is some stuff that I have to deal with …” He looked out his door to make sure Jenny had left for the day, “with Jenny. I’m probably going to have her transferred to a different department. She’s been acting really strange since Demelza and I got serious. She’s always saying bad things about Demelza and questioning the things I do for her. It’s like she has a crush on me and doesn’t want Demelza in my life. It’s gotten worse since we got engaged.”

“Wow. I had no idea. She’s always been so nice hasn’t she? And she’s from Cornwall.”

“Yes and yes. Which is why I have put up with it for so long. I’ve even told her that what goes on with Demelza and I, isn’t any of her concern. So, today, I finally went to Richard Tonkin about the situation, you know him don’t you?” Dwight nodded, “And he brought in HR and we went over the situation. Best case scenario is we give her a written warning and transfer her to a different department.”

Dwight took a drink of his coffee, “Wow, no wonder you look like shit. So obviously you haven’t talked to her yet?”

“No, I was just coming back from that meeting when I found you here, which I am eternally grateful for, because I’m knackered and I just didn’t want to deal with an awkward situation right now. So thank you for being here when I needed you!” Ross gave a weak smile to his friend.

Dwight smiled back, “Well, I’m glad that I could be of some help. My main reason for coming here was to talk with you about the wedding dress excursion that you’re going on. Caroline is a little upset about it. She thinks that you’re going because you don’t trust her. I told her that I was sure that wasn’t the reason but she didn’t believe me.”

Ross looked up at the ceiling and huffed, “I feel like I have been doing nothing but explain this decision to everyone around me! Grrrrrrrr it’s so infuriating! I know that it’s not normal, I know that it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress, yes, I am sure that I want to go with Demelza to the wedding dress shop.”

Dwight raised his hands up to stop Ross from more rambling, “Okay! Take a beat mate! What is going on with you?”

“Look, I’m sorry but this wedding dress has to be perfect for Demelza. She has concerns about the dress and how it will look in the back. I don’t know whether I’ve told you this or not, but Demelza still has scars on her back from when her father beat her while she was growing up, and she doesn’t want them to show on her wedding day. So she asked that I come along to make sure that the scars don’t show. Her decision. And it has nothing to do with Caroline. I was hoping that you were still going for support.”

Dwight shook his head in agreement, “Yes, I’m still planning on going. Well after what you’ve said, I can understand Demelza asking for you to be there. I had forgotten about the scars. But don’t forget how long these two women have known each other, far longer than we’ve known them, and they’re very close. So I don’t think it would be good for you to push Caroline away from Demelza.”

“Bloody fucking hell Dwight, that’s not what I said! Please don’t make this out to be more than what it is. The last thing I’m trying to do is tear apart their friendship, I would never do that. They’re like sisters, much like you and I are brothers. But I also don’t want this to turn into Caroline’s wedding instead of Demelza’s if you catch my drift.” Ross was not in the mood for all of this Spanish inquisition. He was trying to keep his temper from flaring up anymore than what it was.

“Caroline does have a habit of getting over excited about things, so I can understand your concern on that score. Well, I’ll explain the situation with the scars to Caroline, and I’m sure that she’ll understand. You look exhausted, why don’t you take your own advice and go home. I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the pub, but watching you fall asleep on the table won’t be any fun. So walk me out?”

“I’m sorry for being pissy. I’ve always heard that planning weddings can be stressful, but jayzus it’s only been a few days. Let me close everything up in here and I’ll walk out with you,” Ross checked his diary to make sure that he didn’t have anything else going on the rest of the day before he left early. He couldn’t wait to get out of the office.

*******************************

An exhausted Ross shuffled through the back door at home, practically ripping his tie off.

Demelza came down the stairway surprised to see Ross home so early, “Ross! I wasn’t expecting you home so early. Is everything alright? You look…”

“Terrible. Yes, I know, I was told that earlier. So, it’s still early, I’m going to take a shower before I have to take you to the music hall, yeah?” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

“Don’t worry about it Ross, I have tonight off, remember?”

Ross’s head dropped back, “Oh thank God! Look, it’s been a fucking awful day, and I’ll tell you all about it after I get a shower, alright?”

Demelza walked over and took him in her arms. “Sure. Are you hungry for anything in particular for supper tonight?”

“Mmmmm I don’t really care. Whatever goes good with beer!”

They both laughed at that. Demelza reached up for a kiss, “Well, how about I just order us a pizza so that we don’t waste any of this precious extra time that we have together tonight cooking in the kitchen.”

“That sounds perfect. Bloody hell you’re so smart! You order the pizza, and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

***********************

Ross attacked his slice of pizza like a lion attacking his prey.

“Oh Ross, I’m so sorry that all of this has happened with Jenny! I guess I didn’t realise that her feelings had gotten that far. I mean, I suspected that she had a crush on you, but I didn’t realise that it had gone this far.”

Ross washed down his pizza with a gulp of his beer, shaking his head, “Babe, I really don’t understand why she’s gone down that rabbit hole. I swear to God, I have never, ever flirted with her or tried to lead her on.”

“Oh Ross, I know you never did. You don’t have to prove anything to me. I just feel bad for her. Do you think it would help if I talked to her?”

“Oh love, I don’t know. Mmmm this pizza tastes so good tonight! Um, I really don’t know if it would help or hurt. That’s something I haven’t even thought about. And you know, we’ve got the wedding coming up, and I’ve always thought that she would be on the guest list, but now I don’t know how to handle that.” Ross let out a big belch.

Demelza laughed at him, “Ross, that was nasty! Judas! Haha. Well, I guess it’s something we can think about for a bit. Are you done eating? Or are you going to chew on the pizza box as well?”

Ross laughed, “Don’t make fun of me! It’s been a stressful day, and this pizza and beer was so good tonight. Just what I needed.”

“Really? I’ll remember that the next time you want to have sex!”

Ross’s eyes grew wider than saucers, “That’s not what I meant, Demelza!”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll just have to sleep with the pizza box!” She had a devilish grin on her face.

“Oh Ross, I did something today I think you’ll be happy about.”

“Oh? Did you buy some new lingerie? Because I think I’d be pretty happy about that!”

“Ya wanker! No! But, I did sign myself up for driving lessons! I won’t be done with them until after the wedding, but I do start next week! I’m kind of excited!”

Ross gave her a big hug, “Oh love, I’m so proud of you that you took this step on your own! Once you get your licence and get more comfortable with it, I think it will really open up your life. But... can you still buy some new lingerie?”

“Oh Ross!”

***********************

Pressure by Billy Joel

youtube

#modernpoldark #six sentence sunday #poldark #eleanor tomlinson #demelza carne #demelza poldark #work in progress #aidan turner #poldarkfanfic modernpoldark au demelzacarne rosspoldark workinprogress #Youtube

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seungkwansphd · 1 year

Text

cast me in a better light

pairing: musical actor!Joshua x pit orchestra member!YN word count: 5.9k synopsis: Joshua is a great singer and actor, you can admit that, but would it kill him to have some rhythm? The Christmas musical really will fail if you can't figure out how to read his cues, but he's wondering if you'll ever realize that he's sending you a different kind of signal, too. genre/themes: romance, fluff, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, allusions to a bad breakup, hallmarkian romance, lol.

a/n: this is part of the @svthub snowventeen collab! you should check out all of the other wonderful writers & stories! also these are the songs i drew inspo & lyrics from (don't sue me) griff - on foot in front of the other ariana grande - santa tell me (slow & reverb)

You balled your free hand into a fist as you turned back in your sheet music for what felt like the thirteenth time. It was your third rehearsal with the cast for this year’s Christmas musical and you were wondering if you could get away with strangling the lead, Joshua Hong, with your bare hands. You weren’t even working on anything difficult, but this man could not seem to sneak through a back alley with any sort of consistent rhythm pattern, so consequently you had nothing to follow. Your beats on the high toms kept missing his footsteps and everyone’s patience was wearing thin.

“Joshua, YN?” Janet cleared their throat, “Can you two spend some time together working on this? We need to either decide on a set tempo or work out some visual cues so that YN can follow your footsteps. We do need to move on for today though.”

“Of course!” Joshua smiled brightly at the orchestra conductor, “We’ll make time!” he gestured theatrically in a way that made you want to throw your drumsticks at him.

“Great,” Janet nodded at him before looking back down at the score, “Alright, let’s continue,” they lifted their baton, leading the pit through the second number.

“You still want to do dinner?” you asked Tetiana as she packed up her violin and bow.

“Yes! Although…,” she trailed off, pointing to something behind you.

Furrowing your brows, you turned slowly to see your one and only leading man, Joshua Hong. It was highly unusual to see cast members down in the pit.

“Hey YN! Thought I’d get your number so we can coordinate a few practices to nail down the walks,” he smiled at you.

“Ah sure,” you nodded. None of this would be necessary if he could just walk like a human person.

“Do you have regular days that work well? Or what do you think?”

“To be honest, my schedule is pretty irregular,” you answered honestly, thinking through the various jobs that you had lined up over the next couple of weeks. “I have a chunk of time free on Thursday between two and three pm?”

“That should work! I’ll text you to confirm,” he nodded, running through his own schedule in his head.

“Sounds good,” you raised your eyebrows at him, “Don’t get lost on the way out,” you couldn’t help but tease.

Joshua either didn’t hear you or didn’t respond as he walked backstage, but Tetiana laughed at your joke, which was enough to satisfy you.

“Ready to eat?” you asked her with a smile.

“Yes,” she laughed heartily. She wondered just how difficult of a time Joshua was in for during these one on one sessions.

❄❄❄

“Why can’t we just do a simple 2/4 or 4/4 pace when you walk from stage left to the alley?” you asked, slightly irritated already.

“Because it’s not what the character would do,” Joshua rebutted, as if what he was saying made any sense. “And depending on the show, the atmosphere may be different, so I want to leave it open for interpretation!”

“I-,” you cut yourself off, remembering your conductor’s words. “Okay, well then can we implement some sort of physical cue? Like a shoulder movement or something? I need to be able to follow you,” you suggested.

“Can you just watch how I move and see if there are any physical cues that I'm already doing?”

“Sure,” you sighed, gesturing for him to do his walk.

You watched him closely, eyes traveling from his shoulders to his fingertips and then back up to his torso, hoping to pick out some sort of movement that corresponded to his footsteps. You’d never seen Joshua at such a close distance before. From the pit, he was little more than the rough outline of a person, but up close you were forced to acknowledge how handsome he was. As you watched him move, you also realized that Joshua was much broader than you would’ve guessed. You were surprised when the thought hit you. Things were certainly easier when you watched him from a distance.

“Well?” he asked, turning his head to look at you after completing his exaggerated walk.

“Sorry, can you do it again?” you asked, shaking your head briefly to clear your thoughts.

“Yes,” he nodded, moving to start again.

You crossed your arms, tongue dragging across your teeth as you regarded him. Without even having to look, Joshua could feel your eyes rake up and down his figure as he walked and walked and walked. Your eyes burned into him intently and for someone who was a professional performer, he was surprised to find himself somehow nervous. Your tongue toyed with your left canine until you finally noticed that there was this little thing that he did with his chin just before he took a step. You might be able to work with that.

“Okay, I think I got something!” you clapped your hands together in relief, moving to the keyboard that was set up across the room from your drumset. “Okay, can we take it from here?” your fingers played out the closing melody that directly preceded his walk.

“Oh, yes?” Joshua did a double take. The way your fingers ran across the keys took him by surprise. “You play piano as well?”

“I’m a professional musician,” you wrinkled your nose up at him, “I can play several instruments.”

“Ah, of course,” he flushed.

You keyed out the melody again, leading him into his walk. He waited for you to cross the room to pick up your drumsticks before he started walking and you half-managed to follow his footsteps this time.

“That was better,” you shrugged, “We’ll need to keep working at it though,” you shrugged, eyeing the clock. You had to leave soon if you wanted to make it to band rehearsal on time.

“Oh right, you had to stop at three,” Joshua nodded, following your line of sight.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. The hour had passed quickly, most of it spent bickering, unfortunately. “When are you free next?”

“Saturday is pretty open as of now,” you suggested. “Would ten-thirty in the morning work?”

“Yes!”

“Would you mind actually meeting at my house? I have band practice right before and it would be nice not to have to drive here and set everything up.”

“Oh, sure I guess? What’s the address?”

“I’ll text you,” you smiled gratefully as you packed your drumsticks away, “Have a good day!”

❄❄❄

Joshua double checked the address before he got out of his car. He was halfway to the porch when the sound of music out back caught his ear. He was quite early and figured it wouldn’t do any harm to check it out. As he got closer to the source, the sounds of keyboard, drumset, and guitar became more individually discernible and these ensemble sounds worked together to complement the lead vocalist. Was this the band rehearsal that you had been referring to?

Joshua finally rounded the corner of the house to face a detached garage where the band was rehearsing. His eyes went to the drumset first, where he expected to see you. The large man seated behind the bass drum, however, was decidedly not you and so his eyes flitted around until they landed on the person standing behind the keyboard. You were playing and singing with such joy on your face and it made him stop in his tracks.

“I didn't think I'd get back up I didn't think I'd be alright again You know it's easy when you're young, bounce back and whatever You just bounce back like it never happened”

You sang with your eyes closed, fingers gliding across the keyboard with an ease that startled Joshua.

“I put one foot in front of the other today I stretched my arms out wide and it felt real strange And then my legs, they started shaking and my hands, they started quaking 'Cause things just take longer to heal these days”

The tenderness with which you sang the last lyrics triggered a small burst of warmth in his chest and when your eyes opened to meet his, his heart jumped fully into his throat.

“Oh, you’re here,” you blurted into the mic without thinking, surprising your band mates.

“Hi, yes,” Joshua cleared his throat, “Sorry I’m early!” he waved at everyone good naturedly.

“Who is this?” your bassist, Elena asked, eyes dancing curiously at you.

“Joshua, he’s the lead in that musical I’m working,” you shrugged, for some reason embarrassed that he had seen you singing.

“Oh nice!” your drummer stood up to introduce himself, “I’m Amir, and that’s Elena. It’s nice to meet you man!”

“Hey thanks! Nice to meet you too,” Joshua smiled back at the large man, “I didn’t know you sang,” he remarked at you.

“I mean…we barely know each other,” you couldn’t help but remark.

“I guess that’s true,” he chuckled good naturedly, “You guys sound great!”

“Thank you” Elena chirped excitedly, “You should follow us on social media!”

“Please,” Joshua nodded way too genuinely, pulling out his phone and looking over Elena’s shoulder as she showed him the band’s various handles.

You knew that didn’t make any sense. You should want everyone and their mother to check out your music, but there had always been an unspoken separation between the cast members and pit orchestra and so it felt very odd to be letting Joshua into your life in this way.

“Do you wanna take that again,” Amir asked you, bringing your thoughts back to the present, “Or did you feel good about that?”

“I felt really good about that, actually,” you nodded and you meant it.

“Me too!” Elena chirped in agreement.

“Cool, well we’re done a little early so if you two need to work on whatever you need to work on, we can make ourselves scarce. But…,” Amir turned his eyes to Joshua hopefully, “If you might wanna jam with us…Elena and I have been learning ‘My Shot’ from Hamilton!”

“Oh hell yes,” Joshua answered seamlessly.

“Right on!” Amir nodded excitedly, sitting back down behind his drum set as Elena wiggled excitedly.

You gestured towards the microphone stand as you got out of the way for Joshua. He pulled the mic out of the stand and your jaw dropped when he started…rapping?

“Hey yo, I'm just like my country I'm young, scrappy and hungry And I'm not throwin' away my shot”

Amir’s grin grew wider and wider as he picked up on Joshua’s flow. You watched, eyes widening with amazement, as he just continued and continued. You knew it was a silly stereotype, but you didn’t ever think you’d see him rapping and you were surprised at how decent he was at it. You could tell that he was out of his usual element, but he managed to still have a swagger and presence that was quite different from when you’d seen him during rehearsal. Elena’s delight grew unbridled as they ran through a good amount of the track before Joshua ran out of breath.

“Sorry!” he laughed apologetically, “I don’t typically rap,” he smiled genially.

“No, don’t apologize man, that was awesome!” Amir shook his head vehemently.

You grinned as you watched the three of them bond. Amir and Elena had always had such open and welcoming personalities, so it didn’t surprise you that they connected with Joshua immediately.

“Of all the things I never thought I’d see,” you remarked as you looked at him with a newfound appreciation.

“I mean we barely know each other, right?” he couldn’t help but throw your own words back at you. He must’ve been still reestablishing his blood oxygen equilibrium, because there was no other explanation for why he winked at you.

You blinked.

“Well, we ought to get out of your hair cause we’ve probably eaten into enough of your rehearsal time,” Amir spoke up after exchanging a glance with Elena. They both packed up quickly and made themselves scarce as you settled in behind the drumset, adjusting the stool way, way down.

“That was fun,” Joshua smiled at you as you warmed up.

“You were perfectly on beat there! So if you could just do that while you walk,” you teased, eyes creasing as you smiled at him. Joshua opened his mouth, but you cut him off, “I know, I know, that’s not what the character would do,” you shook your head playfully at him.

You were pleasantly surprised that the next hour passed quickly. It was probably because Amir and Elena had helped break the ice a little bit, but you felt a lot more comfortable with Joshua today. In turn, he also seemed more open to your input and you were able to work out a decent system for establishing a walking or transition pace. Eventually, you got bored and worked on a few other passages before your stomach interrupted with a loud rumble.

“Was that your stomach?” Joshua asked, surprise evident on his face.

“Yes,” you laughed sheepishly, “I should eat something. Do you want to take a break? I’ve probably got something we can snack on.”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack,” Joshua smiled at you in a way that was disarming.

“Okay, follow me then,” you turned away, nervous, allowing him to follow you, “Don’t judge me, I know the place is a mess!” you disclaimed as you led him through the house. Joshua’s eyes widened with wonder as he inventoried the many, many instrument cases scattered around your house.

“How many instruments can you play?” he looked at you in wonder.

“I, uh,” you made a face as you counted in your head. “All of the strings and most of the percussion instruments.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Joshua gaped at you. He was truly impressed.

“Thanks,” you chuckled, a bit shy at his obvious admiration. Avoiding his gaze, you searched through your cupboard for something to eat.

“Can I try this?” Joshua gestured to the cello laying on the ground while you slid two frozen waffles into the toaster.

“Sure!” you called over your shoulder as you moved to the fridge. Waffles and cereal it was! You laughed to yourself as you heard some fiddling followed by a few noisy scrapes.

“This sounds horrible,” he remarked to himself as he continued to drag the bow across the strings determinedly. You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye. You were surprised that you still found him endearing as he continued to make such grating sounds.

“You’ll have to adjust the pin,” you gestured to the bottom of the cello as you approached him, assessing the situation. “Here, hold this for me,” you lifted the instrument to the appropriate height and waited for Joshua to grab the instrument. You reached down between his legs and pulled the endpin out so that the cello sat at a better height.

“Okay, that looks better, now let’s address this grip,” you smiled, grabbing his hand and adjusting his fingers so they held the bow in a less awkward way. You didn’t notice, but Joshua’s Adam’s apple bobbed erratically when you moved to adjust his other hand on the neck of the cello. “You might actually be good at the cello,” you remarked, taking his left hand into your own. “You have these nice long fingers!”

Before he could respond, the waffles jumped in the toaster, pulling your attention away. It was just as well, because the best Joshua could’ve offered was a garbled cough with the way you had managed to fluster him. Blinking rapidly, he stood, placing the cello back on its side.

In the kitchen, you reprimanded yourself mentally as you placed the toasted waffles onto plates. Joshua did have nice hands, but you certainly didn’t need to be saying that out loud! Wordlessly, you brought everything to the kitchen table and gestured for him to sit.

“Hope you like Cap’n Crunch,” you laughed, “It’s the best I can do with no notice.

“I love Cap’n Crunch,” he smiled genuinely, “So do you teach as well?” he asked between mouthfuls. You nodded and worked through your own mouthful of cereal before answering him.

“Yes! I teach a handful of students, mostly string instruments.”

“Wow, that is really amazing,” Joshua beamed at you one more time before you ate in silence. The crunch of the cap’n filled the room and you were struck by the odd sense of intimacy that filled the moment. You wondered if it was one sided before you finished up and resumed practice

❄❄❄

Joshua couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to you in the pit. You were laughing easily with some of the other musicians and he was surprised at the way he felt almost jealous? It made sense, of course, you knew them much better than you knew him. Prior to this show, you’d never even interacted, but after spending some time with you over the weekend, Joshua had had a lot of trouble keeping you out of his mind.

“Ready to get started?” Janet tapped their baton against their music stand.

Everyone directed their attention to the podium and flipped to one of the big dance numbers. It was quick and before long you were deeply immersed, trying to keep time with their steps.

“Very good, nice work!” Janet clapped happily, more than pleased. “Joshua and YN, great job nailing down the transitions as well! They’re looking much better.”

You smiled back, pleased as well. Joshua instinctively looked towards where he knew you were, even though it was too dark to see you anymore.

“Hey, YN!” you heard Joshua’s now familiar voice as you were on the way out of rehearsal.

“Hey, nice job today,” you smiled at him.

“Thanks to you,” he felt inordinately pleased to receive your compliment. “Hey if you’re not busy, do you want to grab some coffee?”

“I’m not, but why?” you asked.

“I-, do I have to have a reason?” he paused, furrowing his brow.

“I mean, I guess not but this is a little unusual. The cast members typically don’t acknowledge our existence,” you chuckled. You were probably being a little unfair, but this was also true.

“Well, you’re not exactly making it easy,” he pushed back, raising an eyebrow.

“…Fair point,” you had to admit. “You’re right. Let’s go get coffee.”

Joshua beamed.

“I like Almanac, but where do you like for coffee?”

“I like Almanac too!” Joshua’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “See we’re more similar than you give us credit for.”

“I already admitted I was being unfair,” you raised your brows at him, heading towards your favorite coffee shop.

“So how was the rest of your weekend?”

“It was pretty busy, but good! Yours?”

“It was also good,” Joshua smiled. You watched the way the corners of his lips curled up in a catlike fashion. “I had some free time after our practice, so I went to visit my mom.”

“Oh, nice! Does she live close? Far?”

“A couple of hours away, so it’s not too far. She’s getting a little older now, so I try to visit regularly and help around the house however I can.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you smiled. Joshua had always seemed like a gentleman and this was consistent with that.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he shrugged, opening the door to Almanac for you.

“YN!” the roaster, Sam, greeted you, “And Josh?” He did a double take when Joshua followed you inside. “Do you two know each other?”

“We do!” Joshua nodded, “You weren’t kidding when you said you like it here, huh?”

“I take my coffee very seriously,” you threw him a pointed yet playful look. “What’s interesting today?” you turned back to Sam.

“For you? I think you’ll like the Burundi best? Very juicy and complex,” he regarded you for a second. “And for you, Joshua? I think the Honduras? Nutty and more chocolatey notes.”

You and Joshua both nodded. When it came to coffee with Sam, you’d both learned that it was always best to go with dealer’s choice.

“Do we want these for here or to go?”

“I, uh…?” you looked at Joshua, this had been his idea to begin with.

“Here?” he suggested, hoping you didn’t feel obligated.

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“So how do you two know each other?” Sam asked as he bounced around behind the bar, grinding beans and prepping pour overs.

“We’re both in the Christmas show,” Joshua answered first, gesturing vaguely towards the theater where you’d just walked from.

“Well, he��s in it. I’m in the pit orchestra,” you felt the need to clarify.

“You’re in it! There’s no musical without the orchestra!” he insisted enthusiastically.

“I would agree with that,” Sam chuckled, intrigued at your dynamic.

“You know what I mean though!” you scrunched your face at Joshua, “If you say ‘I’m in a musical’ people think you mean the cast!”

Joshua blinked down at you. His lips curled up at the corners, amused at your fervor. Sam watched with a grin on his face as you and Joshua bickered playfully.

“Okay, here’s your coffee kids,” he finally interrupted, sliding two ceramic cups across the bar.

“Thanks Sam,” you beamed at him before turning to search out a table. It wasn’t terribly busy, so you were able to grab seats at the bar looking out the window. “So did you have something you needed to talk to me about?” you asked, shifting slightly to face him.

“No, I just wanted to spend some time with you,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“What?”

“What?” he asked, a little confused that he kept having to explain why he wanted to be around you. You were incredibly talented and interesting, did you not see that?

“Sorry I’m not good at making new friends,” you chuckled wryly.

“You’re okay,” Joshua smiled. “I was actually hoping to ask you about your music making process. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” your eyes lit up. This was a topic that you could talk both of his ears off about, if he let you.

“Yes, I was wondering who writes your lyrics and whether you have a process for it. Like lyrics first and then music or vice versa?”

“That’s a good question that’s impossible to answer,” you grinned at him. “Amir and Elena and I tend to each write our own tracks, but we do ask each other for input. For me, I write the lyrics first and fill in the music around them. Elena is the opposite and Amir does both, depending on his mood. Do you write music?”

“I have tried in the past. But I’m primarily a vocalist, so I never really got to the part about filling in the music,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I can get by on guitar, but that’s about it.”

“It’s certainly not easy,” you laughed, “And then there’s the issue of baring your heart and soul to the people who do actually listen.”

Joshua enjoyed the way your eyes sparkled as you talked excitedly about your music making process. You didn’t seem to like to talk about yourself otherwise, so he hoped he could learn more about you through your music. Your next show was already marked down in his calendar and he couldn’t wait for the day to come.

“Sorry I’m talking your ear off!” you chuckled, bringing your mug to your lips.

“I like it,” his eyes creased as he smiled at you, resting his chin on his hand, eager to hear more.

You blinked. His statement was so straightforward and caught you off guard. You weren’t able to fight the heat that crawled up your neck, so you pretended it was a win that you hadn’t choked on your coffee entirely.

“Oh my gosh, I have to get going,” Joshua’s eyes widened when he noticed the time.

“Oh, okay!” you nodded. “Sorry, I told you I could talk forever about this!”

“Don’t be sorry. Time passes easily with you.”

“This was fun, thanks for suggesting it,” you stepped past his compliment and through the door purposefully. “Oh, it’s snowing!” you gasped, extending your palms upwards to catch a few flakes.

“Pretty,” he murmured, eyes watching you as snowflakes landed in your hair.

“It really is,” you turned towards him, fully beaming now. You loved being outside for the first snow each year. You and Joshua exchanged a laden glance before you couldn’t stand it anymore and excused yourself. It was cold out, but you almost couldn’t feel it.

❄❄❄

“Are you gonna sing tonight?” Elena asked you, eyes bright with curiosity. You tended to be fifty-fifty when it came to karaoke night. Sometimes you were in the mood and other times you weren’t. Tonight you were decidedly on the fence, so you planned to just go with the flow.

“Not sure yet, but I am here to support you,” you grinned, nose scrunching affectionately at her. “Is Amir coming?”

“Yeah, but he invited someone else so he’s waiting outside,” Elena nodded.

“Oh, okay!” you shrugged. It wasn’t unheard of for others to join you, but it wasn’t frequent either. You wandered to the bar to grab a beer while you waited.

“Yo!” you jumped slightly when Amir’s booming voice was accompanied by his hands clapping down on your shoulders.

“Jeebus,” you scrunched your face up at him.

“Two pilsners, please?” he signaled to the bartender before pulling you into a hug. “How’s things?” he asked as you headed back towards Elena.

“Pretty good! How are yo-oh?” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw Joshua sitting with her.

“Hey,” he smiled gently, waving at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Amir stated as a matter of factly as he took the seat next to Elena at the picnic style table. You climbed over the bench on the other side, taking the spot next to Joshua.

“We’ve been chatting,” Joshua explained helpfully.

“Oh,” you nodded, though you were full of questions, “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he nodded, left knee nudging yours under the table.

Your heart flipped in your chest. You hadn’t seen Joshua since your post-rehearsal coffee, but he’d certainly been on your mind. If you squinted, in the right light, you would almost think that he was interested in you. But then again, you’d also thought things with your last partner had been going well just before they’d broken up with you too.

“What are you singing?” you asked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.

“Well it has to be holiday themed, so that narrows down our choices,” Amir stroked his chin playfully.

“Have you decided?” Joshua turned to you, eyes curious.

“I’m not sure I’m going to sing yet,” you half-smiled at him.

“Oh come on! I’ll sing if you sing,” he offered.

“Why would I care if you sing or not?” you countered.

“Hm. You’re telling me you don’t want to watch me make a fool of myself singing Mariah Carey?” he teased, corners of his lips curling up playfully.

“Wait,” you blinked, “Wait, no I really do,” your eyes widened as you processed his words.

“You’d better pony up then,” he threw you a playful look as he brought his beer to his lips.

Elena watched Joshua with severe interest as he watched you wrack your brain for Christmas songs. He was so clearly interested in you, but she couldn’t tell whether your obliviousness was purposeful or not.

“What about ‘Santa Tell Me’?” she suggested, electing to help you out of your misery.

“Oh! I do like that song!” you smiled at Elena gratefully, “Will that do?” you turned to Joshua, an eyebrow raised expectantly at him.

You honestly expected him to say no and request a rendition of something much more embarrassing, so you were caught off guard when he cocked his head to the side and raked his eyes over you before nodding. Elena’s eyes widened before they flew to Amir to see whether he’d been paying attention to this exchange. As was typical, he seemed blissfully unaware as he drank his beer.

“Do we sign up? Or how does this work?” Joshua asked, craning his neck towards the MC.

“Yep, they have a sign-up sheet there!” Amir nodded.

“Shall we?” Joshua turned to you, extending his hand towards you.

“We?” you couldn’t help the question that escaped your lips.

“I don’t trust you not to chicken out. I would like to watch you put pen to paper,” he grinned mischievously at you.

“Me? Chicken?” you gasped, offended. “I would never!”

“Then let’s go,” Joshua chuckled cooly.

“Fine,” you scoffed, placing your hand in his and following him to the MC’s station.

“Amir!” Elena squealed as she watched you leave. “I think something’s going on?”

“Oh yeah, Joshua likes YN,” Amir shrugged, nodding as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Wait, what?”

“He told me. Why do you think I invited him?”

Elena’s mouth hung wide open at this revelation. Of all the things she never thought she’d see, Amir meddling was pretty damn near top of the list.

“Am I going first or are you?” you asked Joshua as you held the pen above the sign-up sheet.

“I’ll go first,” he shrugged good naturedly, “It was my idea after all.”

“Okay,” you nodded, scribbling his name and then your own just below it, “No backing out now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he winked at you. He couldn’t seem to help himself from teasing you tonight.

You watched, fascinated, as Joshua chatted with Elena and Amir. You’d have thought they’d known each other for years, but when you sat down to do the math, you were surprised to realize that it had really only been a few weeks since they’d met. It was a pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts again, you met Elena’s gaze, which was loaded to say the least. When she realized you were no longer spacing out, her eyebrows raised as her head jerked subtly, yet meaningfully, towards Joshua. You knew what she was saying and you maybe even agreed. You just needed to have another mental breakdown or two before you decided what you wanted to do about it.

“Oh, I’m next!” Joshua announced as he watched names on the screen flicker by.

“Break a leg,” you beamed at him. He faltered for a moment at the genuine openness of your smile.

You watched with a mixture of excitement and secondhand embarrassment as Joshua started his rendition of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’. It was stupid, but you were surprised at how good he was. He didn’t take himself too seriously, hammed it up when it was appropriate, and by the end of it you were smiling widely and singing along. In fact, you were enjoying yourself so much that you practically forgot you were meant to sing after him and rushed on stage at the last minute. Joshua handed you the mic with a playful chuckle, fingers brushing for just a moment.

“Santa, tell me if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year Santa, tell me if he really cares 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year”

Joshua smiled as he watched you sing. He wasn’t surprised that this song resonated with you. While perusing your music, it had become apparent to him that you’d gone through a big breakup sometime in the last year. He could certainly understand the reluctance to get involved with someone new, but he also hoped that he could prove himself to be a steadfast friend and potential partner.

You smiled impossibly wide as you grooved to the background music; you really did love this song! Inevitably your eyes moved back to your table and you paused when Joshua caught your eye. His eyes had creased into semi-circles and his lips had curled up just slightly at the corners as he watched you. Your brain stuttered and for whatever reason, the next lyrics that left your lips were from the explicit version instead.

“Oh, I wanna let him unwrap me, like oh-woo-oh Get on top of him, by that fireplace, oh-woo-oh But I don't want a new broken heart This year I've got to be smart”

Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise as the crowd erupted in whoops and cheers. The way you’d held his gaze while singing had left his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“Eee, you did so good!” Elena squealed excitedly when you returned to the table. It took every fiber of her being not to scream over your sudden improv. “I love that slowed version too.”

“Really good,” Joshua half-smiled, thinking furiously about when and whether to make a move.

“Thanks,” you giggled shyly, grateful for the residual adrenaline of performing. “When are you two up? I kinda want to go out and get some air, but I don’t want to miss you guys!”

“We’re not for a while, go for it! Bring us some beers back too,” Amir waved you away playfully.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon!” you waved briefly before heading out the door to the patio.

The gears continued to turn in Joshua’s head until Amir and Elena simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dude, what are you doing?” they demanded in unison.

“What?” Joshua looked up, slightly startled.

“Go get ‘em! Now’s your chance!”

“Now?!” He looked panicked.

“They wanna let you unwrap them, like oh-woo-oh,” Elena sang playfully at him.

“Get on top of you, by that fireplace, oh-woo-oh!” Amir harmonized before breaking out into a fit of giggles.

Joshua stood up. They were right, this was the opening. He headed towards the door he had seen you exit through and found you standing outside alone.

“Gah, I don’t know how you do it!” you started chattering when you saw him, “I still get such nerves about performing in front of crowds like that!”

“It doesn’t really ever go away,” he smiled reassuringly, stepping towards you. “Cold?” he asked, watching you blow warm air on your hands.

“I was hoping the fresh air would help me calm down a bit, but now I’m just cold,” you laughed sheepishly.

Joshua chuckled, folding his long fingers over your hands and pulling you towards him. You swallowed audibly as you looked at him, heart pounding even faster now.

“You are a captivating performer and a talented musician. The nerves never really go away, you’ll just get better at managing them,” he gazed deep into your eyes. “You made me feel a lot of feelings up there.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve heard that version before,” he teased, grinning at you.

“I didn’t-, I don’t,” you floundered, but you didn’t really have much of an explanation. You had simply been flirting with him and he was flirting back.

“Can we go out on a date?” he asked, “If things go according to plan, we’ll be here next year too.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you realized he was quoting your karaoke lyrics back to you. It was so corny and yet…it was working. You pushed up on the balls of your feet, leveraging his grip on your hands to pull him into a kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and when you pulled away, you could see that a single snowflake had landed on his nose. What in the Hallmark movie?

❄❄❄

Thanks so much for reading! Would love to hear what you think and please also check out the other 'snowventeen' fics!

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