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caxycreations · 8 months

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Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den

Chapter Two: Shots

CW: Mature references/language, vulgarity

Ferusian Law, First Sequence, Article Two: Protection of Life

Ferusian citizens are entitled to safe and stable living. The following shall be provided, at no cost, for all: clothing not exceeding a $25 production cost, housing not exceeding $10,000 in value, food produced locally (this includes, but is not limited to, vegetables, fruit, and locally-raised meat), and clean drinking water.

By law, all places of business which offer clothing must include a zone designated as "Necessity", which will be reserved exclusively for clothing below $25 production cost. By law, all real estate agencies must maintain an accurate ledger of properties below $10,000 in value as freely available homes. By law all places of business which offer food must provide all locally grown fruits, vegetables, and meats free of cost. By law, clean drinking water is to be given free of cost.

Failure to adhere to this law is an act of treason.

Sitting at the bar, I waited for Merissa, the bartender, to come over for my order. She and I knew each other pretty well, I’d performed here plenty of times now and she was well aware of my ritual. “The usual?” She asked with a smile. Merissa was a hyena, stocky and short. She was a little on the plump side, and it only added to the appeal she held. Plenty of guys in my genus went for the fit, strong women. But I’d always been drawn to the slimmer, and the thicker, bodies. Merissa fit the latter, all curves, and no edge, with a soft sort of inherent beauty.

I nodded, flashing her a smile and starting to speak, only to be cut off by her lifting a finger and turning her back to me to reach for the drinks she knew I would order.

“I know what you want, and no, I’m not lifting my shirt.” She chortled, turning to face me as she mixed the drinks together. I shook my head with a grin.

“I wasn’t gonna ask you to. Gods, that was one time, and I was drunk off my ass, are you ever gonna let me live it down?” I replied, only a little indignantly. She laughed at me and poured my drink into the glass in front of me, leaning over the counter and raising an eyebrow.

“One shot of Mixed Memories, enjoy. And for the record, no, I will not let you live it down.” She scoffed. “Young, hotshot wolf comes in here, plays a few songs, gets blackout drunk and asks the bartender to flash her tits? Hun, you’re a hypothetical on the application warnings.” She was being blunt, but she had a cocky grin that told me she was enjoying every second of teasing me.

I rolled my eyes and took my glass, downing the drink and placing the shot glass on the counter. The taste of whiskey, tequila, vodka, and rum ran down my throat in burning bliss. I smiled, memories of my first gig flashing through my mind. The drinks that made up my ritual were the same ones my first real fans had chosen to toast with that night, and I'd made it habit to have a shot with all of them after every show. Merissa had named it Mixed Memories when she'd learned the history of the drink. As fitting a name as any.

“I bet I am.” I said, remarking on her comments about my past behavior. I turned on my seat, looking towards the dance hall. I could see into it, see the writhing crowd dancing to the beat of a new song, a new artist, but I couldn’t see David in particular.

“Your boyfriend in there?” I heard Merissa tease, and I turned to face her again.

“You know he’s not my boyfriend.” I said plainly, eliciting a laugh from the older hyena. She stood upright and gave me a smug look.

“He? You got someone in particular in mind?” She chortled. I felt my face warm up a little and I tried to laugh it off.

“David’s in there, it’s his birthday. I figured you knew; I did make a whole speech about it during my set.” I replied, relaxing against the counter. Merissa held up a finger and stepped away to help another customer who sat at the bar a few feet away. I waited for her to finish with him and make her way back to me.

“I didn’t realize it was the kid’s birthday. How old is he?” She asked, casually pouring me a glass of water.

“The big one too. He’s twenty-one.” I took the glass gratefully, nodding in thanks as I drank from it. She looked towards the dance hall and sighed. I could tell she had something on her mind. Her ears were flattened back, and she seemed uneasy.

I raised my right brow a little and waved a hand in front of her. She snapped out of her trance and looked at me. “Need something?” She asked quickly. I shook my head and relaxed in my seat.

“Just wondering what’s eating you. Everything alright?” I leaned forward a little, my expression softening. She shook her head, her smile returning.

“Yeah, no, all good here.” She muttered. “Just thinking if he’s turning twenty-one, he’s probably going to beeline for the bar when he’s done dancing. I just don’t want to see him get too far gone.”

I chuckled and looked at her, a smirk growing across my face.

“You think this is his first time drinking? He’s been partying since middle school. He knows his limits. He hasn’t had any of the good stuff, it’s always been beer, but he’s got me to keep an eye on him and I know you wouldn’t let him do anything stupid. You put me down for the count back when I went overboard, security didn’t even have time to call it in. I doubt David would be any concern.”

She nodded half-heartedly and set to work cleaning a glass. I shook my head, watching her. I’d caught on pretty quickly that half the time she was cleaning, whether it was the counter or a glass, whatever she was cleaning was already, well, clean. I never understood why, but I was ready to change that.

“So, why do you do that?” I asked. She looked over to me, then to the glass.

“What? Clean it? Somebody has to.” She chortled, and I shook my head at her.

“I get that, but that was already clean. You could have grabbed my shot glass and cleaned it, but you went for that one. I’ve seen you do it before too, what gives?”

She laughed a bit, putting the glass away and facing me, a hand on her hip. “It’s one of the tricks. Nobody likes an idle barkeep; they want someone who’s doing something. So, you clean. But you can’t just grab a glass from someone who’s still at the bar, it’s bad juju.”

Well now I understood why she bothered to begin with, but I was still curious about something. “You said it’s bad juju, what makes you think that?” I asked, with Merissa shaking her head in response.

"Old Barty Maze. Bartender back in the old days, way before our time. Had a habit of taking up glasses before folks got out of their seats. Guy came through town and stopped for a drink, Barty took his glass, and the dude thought it meant he wanted him gone. Shot poor Barty then and there. Ever since, there’s this superstition that taking a glass from someone still at the bar is bad luck.” She explained.

I mulled it over, nodding slowly. “Alright, fair ‘nuff.” I smiled, tapping my water glass with my claw. It was empty and had been empty since halfway through her story about Barty Maze. She rolled her eyes, wasting no more time in refilling my glass.

As she did, I felt a pair of arms loop over my shoulders, the hands clasping against my chest. I recognized the blue arm warmers, the grey fur, and the black fingers at once. I was about to greet the caxy but was cut short by his own greeting.

“Ryder, Ryder, Ryder! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!” He cried, bouncing excitedly as he hugged me tightly from behind. I smiled, and I heard Merissa chuckle quietly. When David let go of me, I turned on my seat and stood, hugging him back. I dwarfed the little caxy, his five-foot, four-inch height tiny in comparison to my seven-foot, two-inch frame. I let him go and he looked up at me with those excited, glowing eyes and let out a happy whimper as he smiled. He buried his face against me, purring and clinging to me tightly as if I’d float away were he to let go.

I felt warm, seeing him so happy. Merissa let out a cough, and David gasped, letting go of me. He raced to the seat beside mine, sitting down as Merissa placed a glass on the counter. He looked at it, one ear to the side as he sniffed at it. He recoiled a little, only to go back for another round of smelling the drink. Curiosity at its cutest, in my opinion. I sat beside him and watched him examine the drink, getting every sense satisfied except taste as he looked it over, sniffed at it, even poked at the glass a couple of times, hesitantly, as if it might jump out at him.

Merissa and I shared a laugh at his behavior, and David looked up at us indignantly. “What? It’s something new! I can’t just go drinking a strange liquid given to me by a stranger!” He defended himself, looking from one of us to the other. Merissa crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow at him.

“A stranger? I'm hurt kiddo, you've known me for years.” She said, her tone becoming stern and almost motherly. It was a stark contrast to how she spoke to me, treating me more like an old man she had to watch for, while David got the mom-and-son treatment.

“That’s how I know you’re a stranger! Stranger than me, at least!” He retorted, giggling as his tail uncoiled from his waist, stretching to its full nine-foot length, swaying, curling, and uncurling behind him as he lifted the glass to his lips.

It was perfect. As soon as the liquid hit his tongue, the fur all across his body stood on end, all sharp and frazzled, as he was hit with the taste and the burn of the alcohol. He gagged, struggling to keep it down as he placed the glass on the counter. Merissa and I laughed, with the hyena cackling at the face he’d made. I rubbed his back, the grey-blue fur of my hand bright against the smoky grey of his own, and he coughed at the burn of the alcohol.

When he finally cleared his throat of its sting, he looked at Merissa with wide eyes. “Are you trying to kill me!?” He sputtered, glaring daggers at the hyena. Merissa laughed again, shaking her head, and pouring him a glass of water.

“Just giving you a birthday present, my world-famous Merissa Mix.”

David stuck out his tongue and made a sound of disgust. “What’s in that stuff? It tastes like…Like vinegar and bleach!” He cried, wincing at the sight of the glass that once hosted the concoction. Merissa giggled, reaching for a few bottles.

“It’s a special mix of Heavusian Ale, Eikirian salt-wine, and Blackbush gin, with a helping of Merry Berry to round out the taste.” She said proudly, excited to share what she clearly thought was an ingenious mixed drink. David glowered at her, but relaxed, sighing as he lay against the counter.

“So, it’s vinegar and bleach, got it.” David said with a groan. I rubbed his back again, chuckling.

“Merissa, can we get a glass of Greatwood Grog for the birthday boy? Something tasty, you know?” I suggested earning a playful scowl from the hyena.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to put him off alcohol, I see enough drunks and weirdos, I don’t want to imagine what a guy like David would be like drunk off his ass.” She retorted. David laughed, flashing his trademark boyish grin as Merissa turned away to find the ingredients.

“Me? I’d probably be dancing on the bar top, naked. You’d love it! A nice, young, attractive guy showing you his bits for free, putting on a sexy little show for ya? Bet it’d break your dry spell!” He mouthed off. I could hear the shift in Merissa’s attitude, and I felt the hairs across my body stand on end. She was pretty open about the lack of action she had been getting the last few years. Open, yes, but sensitive. She turned to face David with a gentle smile that threw me off guard, having fully expected her to lash out.

Instead, she simply leaned over the countertop and got right in David’s face. He watched her cautiously, his ears back. He had crossed the line, and realized as much by now for sure. He looked as worried as I felt about her reaction. When she finally spoke, her words dripped honey and sugar, her tone sickeningly sweet.

“Oh David, I wouldn’t dream of letting you dance naked on this counter. I’d hate for you to make a fool of yourself in front of that male you’re always telling me about. You know, the one you’ve been coming here to see for the last few years, the big, strong, sexy male with the massive-”

David cut her off, suddenly covering her mouth with one hand and holding her muzzle shut with the other. I raised an eyebrow, curious. David had been telling Merissa about someone? I had seen him dancing in the crowd, and thinking back I was able to recall a few men in the crowd he had leaned into, their touches, their advances. He hadn’t let them interrupt his dancing, but he’d certainly enjoyed their attention. Was it one of them? I looked from David to Merissa. The former was wide-eyed and tense while the latter was giggling through her closed maw.

“Got someone you've been chasin', Davey?" I inquired, sparking a nervous look from the caxy. Merissa pulled back, freeing her muzzle from David’s grip, and smirking at him. David stammered, barely forming words as he looked from me to Merissa. He shrank back, ears flat back against his head and his tail quickly snaking around his waist with the end finding his muzzle as he began to chew at it. He only did that when a line had been crossed, and I wasn't about to take it further.

Merissa sauntered away, leaving us be. I suppose she recognized her work was done. She’d gotten him back, and needed to tend to other customers. “Hey, Davey, it’s okay man, relax a little. You don’t have to talk about it. C’mon, take a breath.” I reassured, with David’s chewing slowly coming to a halt. He looked at me with wide eyes, slowly removing his tail from his maw.

“Uh… Y-Yeah… Right. Right, I know.” He said hesitantly. He almost looked confused for a minute, like he had expected me to press the issue. I gave him a calm smile and stretched a little, popping my back and letting out a low growl of comfort. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the time. It was only a quarter past midnight, I was accustomed to staying up much later, but my set left me tired. I was about to suggest leaving when I realized Merissa hadn’t given him the drink I’d ordered.

I called her over, and David shrunk a little as she approached. “Yes, Mister Big-Strong-and-Sexy?” She cooed. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head a little.

“You forgot David’s drink, the grog?” I reminded her. She gasped, the realization dawning on her. I laughed a little and looked over at David to make a comment, but he still seemed uneasy. I guess he was worried she was still angry at him for his comment earlier.

Merissa didn’t waste any time, apologizing before preparing the drink for David, placing it in front of him and giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, kid. I uh…Got a little distracted. That smart mouth of yours is going to get us both in trouble if you don’t learn to control it.” She gave him a wink and stepped away to clean a glass. As she turned away, David nodded quietly, picking up his glass and lifting it to his lips slowly, letting the scent fill his nose before letting the liquid touch his muzzle.

It met his lips in the gentlest of kisses, and he let in the smallest drops of the liquid. With his first taste test done, he mulled over it for a moment, his brow furrowing and a questioning look in his eyes. After he finished processing the taste and the scent, he took a full sip. Auburn liquid flowed from the glass into his maw, and I smiled as he closed his eyes, letting it settle on his tongue for a moment before I saw him swallow.

“How is it, man? Taste good?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. He nodded, purring a little as he took another sip. Swallowing again, he placed his glass on the counter and slid it to the side, leaning over the counter and laying his head on it, facing me. His eyes, half-lidded in their usual relaxed expression, locked on mine for a moment. I smiled at him, and he smiled back shyly.

"It tastes...sweet." Closing his eyes, he relaxed. He looked peaceful. The steady, slow rise and fall of his breathing, the quiet purring emanating from him. His tail was uncurling from his waist again, flopping lazily onto the floor around his chair. I figure he was tired from the events of the night too.

He opened his eyes, seeing me watching him and raising up to take hold of his drink again. Sipping at it, he glanced my way. “Hey, Rye? Do you ever look for anyone to just…I dunno, spend time with? A boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He asked. Truth be told, I hadn’t. I was pretty content with things as they were. I hadn’t thought about dating since my last breakup, nearly four years ago. Being honest, it left a sour taste in my mouth whenever I thought of trying to date, since then.

“No, I can’t say I have. I mean, if I did, they’d have to be cool with you spending most nights at my place. I'm not gonna tell you that you can't chill there, or that you can't sleep with us. I’m not really looking for one, but I’d have to find someone that wouldn’t be upset if they woke up and saw you holding on to me from the other side of the bed." I said plainly.

His eyes widened, and he got very quiet. His purring stopped, and I swear I could see the blue screen of death in his eyes. He froze completely, and Merissa came over, having only been a few feet away. It was likely she'd been listening in. She always made it her business to know what was being said at her bar, and while she once assured me she tuned most of it out, it didn’t mean she couldn’t hear it at all.

“Nice going, you broke him.” She joked, walking past to grab a bottle for another customer down the line. David blinked a few times, averting his eyes quickly and, without warning, drinking every last drop from his glass in one long, continuous chug before setting the empty container onto the bar.

His eyes darted to Merissa, and with shaky words, called out to her.

"Merissa, strongest drink you got, pretty please? I need it."

End of Chapter Two

Author's Note: This is still a draft, and any critiques are welcome to help me improve it! I said I was going to try shorter chapters for now but I may switch to longer ones later, right? Well, have a little bit of a longer chapter. I don't have a set length of chapters, so some will be noticeably shorter or longer.

Tag List:

Tagging these folks cause they seem to like my work! If you would like to be added (or removed), just let me know!

@sparrowcraft @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @snakelovingnerd @the-chaotic-writer @leisoree @amerylise @profoundlyhauntedclaws @thefinalgoat @leisurelywingedlemon

#writeblr #relan #literature #fiction #modern fantasy #furry #anthro #anthropomorphic #Tylvinian Tales #TTC2

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oh-katsuki · 3 years

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KINKTOBER DAY 19 - TEMPERATURE PLAY + ARMIN ARLERT

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

WC: 1k

TW: temperature play, ice cubes, exhibitionism, public teasing, implications of public sex, dom armin, fem!reader, established relationship, slight pain

Armin could get away with anything. He could kill a man in cold blood and you’re certain that your friends would just bat their eyelashes and ask if someone needed to take the fall for him, you included. He’s just one of those people. Armin is kind, emotionally intelligent, handsome, and unbelievably charming. He’s also — you’re convinced — a sadist, or at least an evil mastermind.

Right now, you’re both at dinner with your friends, sitting side by side while you chat idly about a movie you all saw last week. Armin’s looking at Eren intently, nodding absent-mindedly while he fiddles with the ice cubes in his water cup. It should be a nasty habit, but his fingers are long and pretty, slender while he calmly stirs the drink with one finger. His knuckles are pink from the cold, delicate looking as he nods along with the conversation.

Armin pulls his fingers from the glass, tapping them against the napkin in his lap before he turns to you with a sly grin and presses the cold pads of his fingers to the inside of your leg. You gasp, cheeks heating up because you know what he’s doing. You’d brought up temperature play a while ago, in passing, and ever since he’s been doing shit like this.

Armin raises his eyebrows, laughing to himself before tugging with the two fingers at the collar of his blue hoodie, leaning his elbows onto the table and continuing his conversation.

You didn’t notice when he dipped his fingers back into the glass of water or when he slyly pulled out one clear ice cube and dropped his hand below the table. You were too invested in your conversation with Mikasa.

Only a few moments later, you feel the startling cold of the ice cube on the outside of your thigh, leaving a wet trail as it makes its way to your inner thigh.

“Armin!” You whisper, furrowing your eyebrows at him. Armin gives you a small look, like he’s waiting for you to fully protest. When you don’t, he smiles and shrugs, keeping the ice cube against your thigh, slowly creeping up under the fabric of your flimsy skirt.

You can feel your heart in your throat, heat rising to your cheeks as the burning cold moves steadily closer to your warmest parts. The fear that your friends will notice sits heavy on your chest and you dart your eyes around to see if they’ve noticed the way Armin holds an ice cube to the inside of your thigh with four long fingers. They’re all too absorbed in their conversations though, Armin too, even as his fingers work steadily higher under your skirt.

Your stomach turns with arousal. It pools between your legs as you struggle to respond to Mikasa. Armin seems all too composed, rolling the ice cube against your legs, slipping it up to the seam of your panties while he holds a genuine conversation with Eren.

You gasp when it hits where your leg meets your pelvis, biting down on your bottom lip. Armin turns to you, eyes wide.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” You turn to look at him, biting back a cheeky remark. He looks positively evil, that concerned look hiding a deep malice under the surface that makes your stomach lurch again in the best way possible. You want him inside of you.

“Oh-” You inhale sharply as he quickly swipes the ice over your panties as he moves to the other side. “I’m fine! Just hungry.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get to eat soon.” He smiles at you. He’s gonna give you what you want? Really?

You stay like this for a while, legs shaking from the cold and the way numbness takes over the inside of your thighs. You’re so turned on, growing quiet at the far end of the table while Armin works circles across your legs. The ice cube is half melted now, water running down onto the cheap wooden seat beneath you.

Then, he presses the cube firmly to your clit, earning himself a sharp gasp as you jolt slightly. You laugh off the incident, biting back moans while he works circles into your clit through your panties. It gradually gets colder as they soak, as he rubs the ice into your most sensitive part. It hurts, the cold, but it also feels so fucking good. It’s so little stimulation but too much all at once, leaving your brain a puddle of mush.

When your food arrives, he pulls his hand from you and you stifle a needy whimper. Armin gives you a sweet smile and motions for you to eat before placing the ice cube back. You shake with relief, now more sensitive than you were before as you push the food around on your plate.

“You look sick, _____. Are you sure you’re alright?” Mikasa asks, leaning forward.

You scoot your chair in further so she doesn’t see, forcing a smile, but before you can answer, Armin does it for you.

“She’s alright. She wasn’t feeling too great when I picked her up earlier, so we may actually head out once we’ve finished our food, if that’s okay? I’ll pay to make up for it.”

You shiver, closing your eyes momentarily as you relish in the feeling of his fingers and the promise that he’d basically just made to you. Armin’s going to fuck you. He’s going to take you home and fuck you after working you up like this. You nod your agreement and give Mikasa an apologetic smile.

“Armin, you know you don’t have to do that.” Mikasa protests, turning to Eren for support, entirely oblivious to the way you’re subtly moving your hips against the cold of the ice.

“I want to. It’s no trouble.” Armin smiles. He’s so nice to them. So nice while he’d being so fucking mean to you under the table.

Now, the cube is hardly there anymore, almost melted against the fabric of your heated cunt. You’re slightly numb, but it feels so good. You want his fingers. You want him to stuff you full under the table and make you be quiet. You want to make a mess all over his hand in front of all of your friends while they’re none the wiser.

And like he could read your mind, Armin leans over to whisper in your ear, “I know what you want. When this ice cube melts, I’m going to finger fuck you under this table. ‘Kay?”

You shiver.

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miyagihawk · 3 years

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why’d you only call me when you’re high? pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

here’s part 2 by popular demand! based off the arctic monkeys song and amazing request by @deadbeatharlz <3 thank you guys for the support on part 1 im so happy you liked it :)

warnings: self harming behavior, LOTS of swearing, alcohol and drug abuse, sooo so angstyyyy buckle up

summary: it’s been 3 months since your last night with hawk, and you haven’t been yourself.

word count: 3,062

The past 3 months have been rough. Maybe the worst you’ve ever been. You fell into the deep hole that you dug yourself. The hole of loving Hawk Moskowitz.

You never thought you’d be one of those people who let unrequited love devastate their whole being. In fact you always thought the whole heartbreak thing was pathetic and melodramatic. Until it happened to you.

You hate yourself for letting him have this effect on you. But there’s a pestering voice in the back of your mind that reminds you: it’s all your fault. He didn’t ask you to love him. It’s just easier to blame him for your downfall.

Parties, drugs, alcohol. Sex with people you don’t even know. High on the same drug that compelled him to call you in the night.

You’ve become so desperate to forget him that you ruined yourself. It hurts your pride to be the whiny heartbroken girl who let a stupid boy’s rejection shatter her self worth. But the hole is too deep and there’s no hope trying to grasp onto the dirt walls to get out.

The worst part of it is that he sees it all. At school, (if you even go) he looks at you like the scum of the earth as he passes by with his little karate gang. When you end up at the same party, he’ll have a disgusted expression on his face and leave as if he can’t bare to look at you.

Tonight is one of those nights, and you watch him from across the backyard as he goofs around with his friends. He hasn’t noticed you yet, hence why he’s even still here and not on his way out the door to get away from you.

“If you stare at him any longer, I think he’ll shoot up into flames,” your best friend Robby hands you a cup, and you don’t hesitate before downing its unknown contents. The burn in your throat makes you hum with content.

“That’s the plan,” you take your eyes of off Hawk to look at Robby. You gesture to his own cup in his hand, “Are you gonna drink that?”

“Easy there, Y/N. We got here 5 minutes ago,” he warns, but holds out the drink towards you anyway. Robby’s always been worried about you and your habits, but he knows how you can be when you’re told no.

You swallow down the drink in a few seconds, ignoring his remark. “5 minutes? I can beat my record!” you cheer sarcastically, and start walking to the kitchen in search of a keg. Robby follows closely behind you, a wary look on his face.

The fuzzy feeling starts to take over your body as you throw back drink after drink. It’s the buzz you crave every second of every day because it just makes you feel so good. Everything is happier and your cares feel so far away. Hawk feels so far away.

You sit on the couch next to Robby in your dazed trance, drunkenly rambling to him about random things. He glares at anyone who comes near you and looks like they would take advantage of you in your state.

Robby really hates you like this, but he can’t help but feel protective over you. He’s not even a fan of parties; he really only goes to keep an eye on you. You’re grateful even though you act like you hate it when he babysits you.

“Heyyy pretty Y/N! Want some?” Yasmine approaches where you sit, a joint held between her fingers. Her eyes are drooped and she sways as she stands.

You reach out to take the blunt, but you feel Robby push your arm down. “You’re already drunk. That’s enough,” he says sternly, making you roll your eyes.

“I can do what I want, Dad,” you taunt, and take the joint from Yasmine. Smoke fills up your lungs, immediately giving you pleasure. Robby just shakes his head in disapproval as the air around him becomes hazy.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Stay here,” he orders, getting up from the couch.

You nod, but of course, you don’t listen. The sound of splashing from outside sets off a lightbulb above your head and you feel like you’re floating while you walk to the backyard.

Right as you step out of the house, you make eye contact with none other than Hawk. He gives you a distasteful look like always, before turning back to his group. Asshole.

You just scoff and stumble towards the pool, where a couple is making out and a few people are drunkenly playing with the water like little kids.

Reaching the edge of the pool’s rim, you let yourself fall in with a splash. You feel the pressure in your ears start to build as you sink to the bottom. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re cross faded, but being underwater feels like a world of bliss.

The loud music of the party is muted, creating a sense of serenity. The legs of the other people in the pool make you laugh to yourself, sending bubbles from your mouth to the surface. It’s glittery and pretty and you want to stay forever.

You don’t know how long you’re under there for, but you don’t notice your lungs running out of air. It just feels good to be alone for a second. Next thing you know, you feel your eyes start to droop closed; a strange peace overcoming your body.

A loud thrashing noise in the water makes you wake up with a gasp. You swallow too much water as you feel someone grab hold of your arm. It’s all a blur and you’re being pulled up to the surface, taking you away from the tranquil world you were just in.

The music is pounds against your ears again and the air is cold on your skin. You feel your body being laid down on the concrete of the poolside, but everything feels numb. You just feel sleepy and you want to close your eyes again.

“Y/N, hey, wake up. Wake up,” a voice makes your eyes shoot back open. Someone is looking down at you, with a hand shaking your shoulder. Your vision is somewhat blurry, but the mohawk gives it away. It’s him.

You suddenly become aware of the large amount of water in your lungs and you turn over to your side to cough it up. After you get it all out, you notice the people at the party looking at you with eyes of pity mixed with judgement.

“What the fuck were you doing? You could’ve died, are you fucking stupid?” Hawk curses, but even in your inebriated state you can hear a hint of worry in his voice.

You sit up to face him. He looks angry; his clothes and hair are as wet as yours.

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen in your brain, or maybe it’s the marijuana and alcohol, but you just feel the urge to laugh. So you do. Like a complete maniac. The way he probably just saved your life like he cares is sickly comedic to you.

His face twists in confusion as you break out into a fit of giggles. “Are you serious? You’re fucking insane, Y/N,” he gets up, shaking his head at you. He gives a glare to the people staring, and they look away in fear.

You think he’s going to leave like usual, but he surprises you by grabbing your arm to pull you up. People whisper amongst themselves as he drags you through the backyard, going through a gate that leads to front of the house. You trip over your own feet, still feeling dizzy from almost drowning, but he just pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you ask, tugging on your arm to try and release it from the tight grip he has on you. You’re both dripping chlorinated water, leaving a track of drops on the concrete below.

“You’re going home Y/N,” he says sternly. You two arrive at his car and he opens the passenger door. “Get in.”

“Hey!” a voice yells from the house and you both turn to see Robby rushing towards the car. He looks pissed, and now you remember him telling you to stay put. Shit.

“Robby I-”

“Don’t get in there with him Y/N,” he says, sending a death stare to the boy next to you.

“I’m taking her home, Keene, so back the fuck off. Get in Y/N,” Hawk snaps, clenching his fists.

You keep quiet, not wanting to add to the fire already starting. They loathe each other; if not because of the karate rivalry, then because of you. To Robby, Hawk broke your heart and made you spiral. To Hawk, Robby is the piece of shit who he thinks is your boyfriend, and he won’t admit it but he’s jealous.

“You’re not driving her, asshole. You’re probably as drunk as her,” Robby reaches to take your arm, but Hawk pulls you back.

“You don’t know shit about me, Keene. I’ve been sober for three months, so yeah, I will drive her,” Hawk picks you up like you’re a doll, placing you in the passenger seat and closing the door. You don’t resist, you just feel tired and your head starts to pound as if the mix of drugs in your system are punishing you. The window’s down, so you can still hear the two boys loud and clear.

I’ve been sober for three months, his voice echoes in your head.

“Oh so now you care so much about her? It’s your fault she’s like this!” Robby raises his voice even more, starting to move towards Hawk threateningly. You begin to feel scared that a physical fight might actually break out, but you don’t know what to do.

“I’m not the one who almost let her die a few minutes ago, am I? Just fuck off, we’re leaving,” Hawk dismisses him, walking around the car to the driver’s seat. You’re surprised by his self control to not throw a punch, especially with his reputation.

“Robby, it’s okay. I just want to go home. I’ll call you, alright?” you reach your hand out of the window in reassurance and he takes hold of it. Hawk clenches his jaw as he turns on the engine.

“Promise you’ll be careful? I’m sorry I left you,” Robby furrows his eyebrows in worry. When he came out of the bathroom, someone filled him in on what happened to you and he almost had a heart attack.

“Promise. And it’s my fault,” you hook your pinky with his, before the car pulls out of the curb and separates you from your best friend. He watches you guys drive away, an anxious expression etched on his face.

The whole situation has sobered you up pretty well, and now you’re left with a throbbing headache, wet clothes, and awkward tension. You hate it. Being sober. You miss the foggy feeling that prevents you from thinking too hard about things. But now you’re inches away from the boy who broke your heart, all by choice.

You don’t know why you agreed to go with him, but did you even have a choice? You’re confused by his actions. He acts like he hates you but he jumps in a pool for you. He yelled at you but he’s driving you home. It all makes you overthink and it causes your head to ache even more.

You hold your head in your hands to try and ease the pain as Hawk drives quietly.

“You good?” he breaks the silence. His voice is softer compared to how he talked to Robby minutes ago.

“Head hurts,” you mumble.

“What were you doing back there? If I didn’t get you out, you’d probably be in the hospital right now,” he says. You peek at him through your hands and his eyes are on the road.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It was just peaceful. I didn’t really even think about breathing.”

He scoffs. “Well that’s just fucking stupid. You’re lucky I noticed you were under for so long.”

“Well thanks,” you reply quietly, feeling like a little kid being scolded.

There’s a couple beats of silence before he speaks, “What happened to you?”

The question makes you sit up and look over at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The old Y/N wouldn’t even touch a drink. You’re different,” Hawk taps his finger on the wheel in thought. His icy blue eyes quickly glance at your confused look before returning to the road.

“You happened, Hawk.” You pinch your temples in frustration. Anger starts to bubble up in your stomach at his criticism. At the mention of “old you”.

“I didn’t do this to you,” he shakes his head, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

“You did,” you raise your voice, making him flinch. “You know it.”

“What, because I stopped sleeping with you? I didn’t make you fall in love with me, Y/N. You did that to yourself,” he spits, sending a knife to your heart and making you see red.

“You knew I loved you way before I said it. But you still stringed me along, didn’t you? You knew I would pick up everytime you called. You knew that I would let you into my bed because I was the girl who loved you no matter how fucking shitty you were!” you fire back, vomiting out words that you’ve wanted to say for months. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder than usual, but you’re grateful for it.

He’s at a loss for words at your outburst so you continue, “I didn’t ask for this Hawk. Loving you. I’m sorry that I’m such a burden and that you hate me so much that you can’t stand being in the same room as me. But please just answer me this and I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll leave when we show up at the same party and I’ll even hide in the halls so you don’t have to see my face.”

You pause, choking on your words. You didn’t even realize that the car is already parked in front of your house and your clothes are halfway dry.

“Why don’t you love me?” your voice cracks as you spit out the question that has caused you to throw yourself away. The question with an answer that could dissipate your self worth in a mere moment.

Hawk finally looks into your glassy eyes with shock. He could’ve never anticipated what you asked him and his mouth runs dry.

“I told you, I- I don’t deserve someone like you loving me,” he swallows, but you shake your head.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He blinks slowly, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse, to avoid telling you the truth. You can see the inner conflict on his face, the panicked speed of his running thoughts.

“You should go home, Y/N,” he deflects, turning away from you. Putting on his mask to keep you from reading him like a book.

“I’m not going until you tell me,” you demand.

“Just get out of the car, fuck!” Hawk yells, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. It makes you jump a little, but you’re too angry to fear the flames in his eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me!” you fire back. “You came to me almost every night, so why do I feel something that you don’t? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you want me to fucking say Y/N! That I do love you? Fucking fine. I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Just get out.”

I love you.

The same words you said that made him leave.

“You don’t even mean that,” you blink back your tears.

His voice is softer now, more gentle. “If I didn’t mean it then I wouldn’t have said it.”

“You said you needed me and then you left me,” your voice shakes and you hate how pathetic you sound.

“I-I didn’t leave you,” he stammers before taking a deep breath. “I left because you wanted something more than I could give you. I would’ve felt like a selfish asshole if we became more than just sex, Y/N. You deserve someone like Keene and yeah he’s a pussy but he’s good. Better than me.”

It feels like every piece in the puzzle is being put together. Everything makes sense. He does love you, but he was just afraid. He can’t be near you because it hurts too much to see someone he can’t have. Somehow, you can’t find the anger you’ve held against him for these past months; you just understand him now.

“I’m sorry, alright? For everything. For treating your feelings like shit. All of it.”

You swallow, thinking about his words. It all feels too much and the truth is now looking you in the eye, demanding an answer. You love him, but he dropped your heart on the floor for you to pick up every shard. Is one sorry going to magically fix everything?

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit, and he nods in understanding.

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just... move on. And you get better... I hate seeing you like this,” Hawk scans your red eyes and dilated pupils. “We’ll get to a better place and you and me, we’ll be good.”

It’s bittersweet, but he’s right. Being together now just because he loves you back would be a huge jump that would only end in broken hearts and toxic cycles. It would be foolish. As much as you want him, the only person who can fix you is yourself.

So it’s a meet up at the top of the mountain, when you’ve both made the journey from opposite sides.

“A better place,” you reiterate, before placing a light kiss to his cheek and leaving the car with a new sense of closure.

a/n: that was longer than i planned and a freaking roller coaster!!!!!!! im not sure if there should be a part 3? lmk what you think maybe it’ll just be short. but hehe i added robby into the mix he was so cute. ty for reading!

taglist for people who wanted part 2 :) ty friends for the support <3 @littlered6307 @deadbeatharlz @spiderman-berries @axastasiasstuff @r0-xie @estupidteen @hawkwhore @idkwhatishouldput4

#eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai #hawk moskowitz

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

we can never be friends

Requested?: Big mash up again... Oopsies. Someone wanted angsty luke smut, someone wanted the phrase ‘well i fucked your girlfriend and there’s nothing you can do about it’ implimented, someone else wanted a lil fake dating to get back at an ex, bad boy luke, the sex scene from charmed, y/n is a witch... also decided to make y/n a child genius to sweeten the pot.

Word Count: 10.2K+

Author’s Note: this story is brought to you by machine gun kelly, and the songs ‘bloody valentine’ and ‘why are you here’. i stumbled across the songs by mistake, and can’t get them out of my head, so now you get luke smut based on them.

also, everyone is aged up by like six-seven years, this takes place over a period of like a year and a half ish? yeah, read the nonsense and take from what you wish my doods. and a part two might come along if y’all want it, so like, lemme know.

song featured is ‘bloody valentine’ by machine gun kelly.

Warning: smut, drug and alcohol misuse, infidelity. and when i say smut i do mean smut. like oof smut. enjoy...

masterlist, i write more stuff like this sin.

It was always a mistake, whenever they got together.

Of course, it never felt like it in the moment: when his body was pressed up against hers, his lips on her neck and marking what was his, her fingernails clawing into his back and doing the same, it didn’t feel like a bad idea. It felt like euphoria, it was sweat and teeth and passion and sex. And for the first few moments after, as they came down from their highs and his arms pulled her close as they both caught their breath, there was a moment when they both wondered if they could actually work, they could actually be together.

“You’re thinking it again.” She muttered softly, pressing her lips to his once more before slipping out from under the satin sheets, making a beeline for the hotel bathroom. It was just chance they had run into one another in New York, what with them both calling Los Angeles, California home. But she had been called to Columbia University, and he had a habit of appearing where she least expected him to be.

For all the years Y/N had known Luke Patterson, he had never failed to surprise her.

“Is it so bad to think it? It’s not like we’re ever going to act on it.” He responded, biting his lip as his eyes scanned over her figure. He threw off the covers, recovering his boxers and slipping them on before walking after her, his thoughts giving him away, though he knew that already. “You sure you can’t stay for another hour?” He asked, leaning against the bathroom’s doorway as she freshened up. ‘Maybe this time I could fuck you against the window…’ her eyes shot up, a scowl upon her pretty face as she walked past him and back into the bedroom, quickly collecting her clothes.

“You really ought to control those thoughts of yours, Patterson. One day they might get you in trouble. Besides, I have an early lecture in the morning.” She muttered, pulling on her underwear, pausing to look for her second stocking. Luke walked over towards the door, lifting the hosiery from atop a lampshade.

They had been in a rush to get into bed.

“Crazier things have happened than you missing a lecture, Y/N.” He reminded when she came over to collect her second stocking, sitting on the bed and slipping it on quickly, the pair sharing glances.

“Not when I’m the one giving the lecture, you asshat.” She reminded, and Luke grinned. He forgot sometimes how unbelievably clever the girl before him was, and as she pulled on her dress, Luke took a step forward to zip up the back for her. One of his hands came to hold her waist as his lips pressed down on the exposed skin of her collarbone, his cold breath fanning over her skin and causing the girl to shiver and goosebumps to form. “This can’t happen again, understood?” She breathed out, the last of her words turning to a moan as Luke nipped at the crook of her neck, his free hand coming down from her shoulder, his fingers brushing faintly against her skin as their hands finally met.

He spun her around, bringing the hand he held to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles, his eyes locking with hers, his lips quirking to a smirk when she blushed at his actions.

Luke loved the effect he had on her. Y/N hated it.

“It’s cute how sure you are about it.” He remarked, moving away and breaking their touch, Y/N trying not to frown at the loss of his cold hands against her warm skin. “I mean, we’ve been saying the same thing since high school.” He swung open the hotel room’s door for her, and she quickly rid herself of any feelings of affection for the man before her: he always knew how to annoy her.

“And this time it’ll stick.” She snapped back, locating her purse with haste and slipping on her heels before marching for the door.

‘I like when you scream my name, Princess, don’t you?’ The intrusive thought belonged to the boy leant against the door, and Y/N scoffed as she walked out into the hallway, the carpet underneath a crimson red, something she hadn’t bothered to notice on her way up to his place.

“Get out of my head, Ghost Boy.” She ordered, not looking back as she made her way down the hallway, though she heard Luke laugh behind her, one of his smug chuckles that made her blood boil.

“I think it’s the other way round, your Highness. Rude to listen to what other people are thinking.” He called back down the hallway, earning a rather offensive hand gesture before Y/N stepped into the golden-door lift at the corridor’s end, the girl refusing to turn around until the doors had closed behind her, sparing her from his haunting gaze, those green eyes that managed to steal into her soul every time.

Luke watched the doors close at the end of the hall, letting out a soft sigh at the loss of the girl from his sight, though his moping was shortly interrupted by the sound of another room along the hallway opening its door, a scowling face looking back at him.

“You’re looking at me like I did something wrong.” He commented, walking back into his room and grabbing his jeans, that had landed on the back of the dining chair in the suite some five metres from the rumpled sheets of the bed. He pulled them as a set of footsteps approached, Luke again met with the disapproving expression of his band mate.

“Luke…” The concern dripping from Alex’s tongue with just his name had the guitarist shaking his head, walking across the room to grab his shirt, pulling it on quickly. “Luke, you know this is going to end badly.” He continued, taking a step further in the room while Luke grabbed his jacket. “Just like it did last time, and the time before that.”

“Alex, it’s fine, alright?” He said quickly. “What we have is good, it works.”

“It’s stopping you from finding someone you’d actually get along with.” The blonde disagreed, following Luke out into the hallway as the brown-haired boy started for the elevator. “Where do you plan on disappearing to? You remember we are meant to be on a plane in four hours?” He reminded, the other boy slowing to a stop, halfway between the golden doors and his friend.

“Is it really that late?” Luke asked, a smug look on his face, his iconic smirk and raised eyebrow causing Alex to roll his eyes.

“If you want a drink, order something up. Preferably, don’t order anything at all. Last thing you’ll want to be on an eight hour flight over the ocean is hungover, Luke.” He had always been the one with common sense, and Luke wavered on the spot for a moment, eyes fixed on the door. A part of him was sure he could catch up to her, that the pair could get a drink at the bar downstairs together. A part of him was sure she was waiting just beyond a press of a button, that she too was hoping he would join her.

“We’re bad for each other, aren’t we?” Luke found himself sighing happily, turning on his heels to face Alex once more. “God, she’s an asshole.”

“Most geniuses are.” Alex remarked with a smile, Luke taking one last glance back at the elevator before he headed towards the drummer’s room. Alex followed him in, walking to the drinks cabinet and pouring them both a drink: vodka, good stuff from what Luke could see, having taken a seat by the balcony windows. “You know, Julie’s got a friend you might like…”

“I don’t date, Alex. We’ve established this… Last thing I need is to break another one of Julie’s friend’s hearts. She’s only just forgiven for the last one…” Luke paused and nodded in thanks as Alex came over and took a seat across from him, handing over a drink. “Fuck, what was her name? It was something like Ruby or Pearl or Opal…”

“Crystal.” Alex corrected with a grimace and cold chuckle, finding the humour in his superior knowledge of Luke’s exes compared to the man across from him. “So, what? You’re going to spend the rest of your life like this, your closest encounter with romance being a girl you screw twice a year?”

“I mean, I see her twice a year… There are multiple rounds of sex involved each time.” Luke corrected with a strained laugh, downing the liquor in his glass. “I’ve really fucked myself over, haven’t I?” He asked, and Alex’s expression softened a little.

“Luke, don’t tell me you’re in love with her…”

“No, no… But it wouldn’t be the wildest thing, would it?” He asked, looking up at his friend for some sort of guidance: Alex was, after all, the one of their friendship group who had been dating his boyfriend since, God, since Julie’s senior year of high school. How far they had come since then…

“Everyone knows that you wouldn’t work out… For the obvious reason you’ve both been avoiding.” Alex sat straighter, picking up Luke’s empty glass and walking back to the cabinet to refill it, bringing the bottle back with him that time. “You may be alive again Luke, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re not actually alive, and that we don’t mix with…” He trailed off, and Luke nodded, accepting the second glass and downing it in one, the alcohol in his veins the warmest thing about him.

He knew all too well what Alex was inferring, though in the guitarist’s defence, he hadn’t been privy to the rather large secret Y/N had until about a year into their… relationship. She had figured out his backstory rather quickly of course, but she had the advantage of reading his mind. Yes, Luke may have been a ghost, and that should have been complication enough.

But Y/N also happened to hold the title of supernatural being. It was just Luke’s luck, wasn’t it?

Just his luck to end up screwing a witch.

If there was anything to know about the intricacies of supernatural species, it would be that some of them didn’t get along very well: vampire and werewolves, mer-people and sirens, angels and demons. Amongst the long list of rivalries one might find in their research, one of the oldest and most conflicting pairings was that of witches and ghosts.

Witches, in practice, have one job: banishing spirits from the mortal realm. Alongside all the candle lighting and chatting with deities, witches like Y/N spent their lifetimes on earth getting rid of lingering souls. And with her family lineage and standing amongst the American covens, Y/N was rather good at what she did. Alongside her shocking intellect and undeniable beauty, she took on the part-time role of vanquishing ghosts to purgatory before they did anything stupid like come back to life.

Y/N hadn’t expected to find out her classmate Julie Molina was a medium halfway through their sophomore year, nor had she anticipated the arrival of three ghost musicians who could be seen by mortals when they all sang together in a band. Of course, her seeing them too didn’t help things, and her conflicted feelings over banishing the very attractive guitarist had led to a delay in her actions, and before she knew it, Julie was bringing them all back to life, or as alive as ghosts can be.

Noticing a resurrected ghost was nearly impossible: they age, they appear human, and if they avoid utilising their previous ghost powers, the only thing that would ever raise suspicions of a mortal, or any species for that matter, was how cold ghosts stayed.

It was a common misconception that vampires were ‘cold as ice’, popularised by teen movies that suggested the bloodsuckers sparkled in the sunlight, when it was ghosts who in fact held that trait (vampires were actually constantly warm from the excess of blood in their system). To touch a ghost was like shoving the body part into a freezer, there was an element of pain to it if the feeling was continuous, and it worked the other way around. A ghost touching the living could hurt, something that could perhaps be compared to the nipping on skin just a little too close to an open flame.

Y/N and Luke had found a loophole to that, of course: the heat of sex tended to offset the cold, mixing the inklings of pain with waves of pleasure.

Their relationship had been a complicated one from its beginning: there’s a certain level of tension that comes with the possibility that Julie’s pretty friend could destroy you and your friends with the same magic Caleb had threatened them with all those years ago, but when a year passed of the boys being present on earth, both invisible and visible to the human eye, and Y/N having done nothing to report them to her coven, the boys were sure they were in the clear.

And they were almost right…

“I need your help, Ghost Boy.” The words had Luke spinning on the spot as he stood under the early autumn sunshine. He had been waiting for Julie, tasked with picking her and Flynn up from school that day. Ever since the boys had stopped being dead, they had taken on chores in the house to help out Ray as a thank you for him letting them stay in the garage. Luke had expected to find Julie or Flynn, or anyone for a matter of fact: just not Y/N. The pair rarely spoke, most likely to do with the fact she should have reported him to some magical authorities over a year before.

“What do I owe this pleasure, Miss Magic?” He asked, his chipper tone and easy smirk causing Y/N to frown further. She disliked that she found him attractive, though it was exactly why she was approaching him that warm September day of her senior year. “Aren’t you meant to be at college?” He asked with a raised brow, and she sighed, folding her eyes.

“My academic schedule is none of your business.” She was, in fact, meant to be at college that day: Y/N had simultaneously attending high school and working towards her first degree, her parents insistent on her growing up amongst peers despite her summer having been spent working on her final dissertation for her first bachelor’s degree. “I am going to make this quick, Patterson, simply because talking with you makes me nauseous and I worry I’ll catch a cold if I stay close to you for too long.”

“You always had a way with your words, Princess.” Luke grinned, leaning back against the car’s bonnet and folding his own arms, his eyes quite blatant in their racking over her body: the sundress she wore leaving just enough to the imagination to leave the boy intrigued. “What can I do for you?” He asked, and Y/N snapped her fingers in front of his face, frowning.

“I can hear what you’re thinking, asshole… But you’re not far off.” She muttered, and Luke’s eyes widened. His thoughts had been far from pure. “I need you to come with me to Carrie’s party on Saturday, alright?” She exclaimed, clearly upset that she had resorted to asking assistance from the ghost. “My ex is going to be there, he’s an asshole, and if you say no I do have the means to banish you to purgatory.”

“I don’t get much of a say then, do I?”

“No, you don’t…”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

There was one thing certain about the relationship Luke Patterson shared with Y/N Y/L/N: they could never be friends.

After six years of casual sex in high-end hotel rooms and bathroom stalls; six years of cheating on ‘significant others’ with one-night stands; after Julie and the guys signed their multi-record deal and began touring and Y/N found her own level of moderate celebrity thanks to her genius brain; after all of it, they knew each other too well to like one another, and saw each other too little to develop anything beyond their physical encounters.

Because even though Luke annoyed Y/N with every smirk and his scoffing chuckle, and Y/N drove Luke to the edge with her superiority complex and constant need to prove her intelligence, it couldn’t be helped that whenever the pair found themselves faced with the other, all sanity went out the window. They became different people, and for the few hours they were in one another’s arms, who they really were didn’t matter.

Luke hated her a little bit for it, the effect she had on him, the same way Y/N hated him. There was no love lost between the two, there was no love to begin with. It was just convenience and desperation that had transformed into a primal hunger for one another. Neither had had better sex with someone else, no matter how hard they both searched. It wasn’t a secret that twenty-five year old Luke Patterson of Julie and the Phantoms, the four-time Grammy winner, was a ladies’ man and the free spirit of the band: it was plastered over every tabloid magazine across the globe. And while her fame was lesser than that of the rock star, the sophisticated twenty-three year old Y/N, the scholar who seemed to be headed straight for becoming a household name, was notorious in academic circles for her love affairs: at least two tenured ivy-league professors had slept with and left their wives for the young woman.

In recent years, concern had grown amongst their shared friends, mainly being Alex, who witnessed the rather undesirable parts of their relationship play out to their fullest. It wasn’t just that the pair used one another for sex, they were fine with that: but there was suddenly this need to impress the other, a competitiveness between the two. There was enough heat on Luke’s love life, but whenever Y/N came around, that seemed to escalate to excessive drinking: and one time, Alex and Reggie had to haul Luke into his apartment after he decided to get high on some sort of pill with the witch.

Despite disagreeing with one another on everything but sex, it was almost comical how quickly they could give in to one another. Constantly, even when they weren’t in the same country. It was too common of an occurrence that Y/N would be on the TV as the younger generation’s voice of science, sat on some couch in a studio in LA or New York or Paris or London, or she would be another key note speaker at an event: she had even managed to get herself on the cover of Vogue, an exclusive interview with Anna Wintour herself titled ‘The Sex of Science’. Luke saw all of it, of course, and like clockwork, he would then, for some reason, make it his mission to get another scandal on the front page of tabloids, like he was trying to one-up her.

And he was, and in a way, it was a form of foreplay for the pair. Luke’s insufferable gloating transcended physical presence, he was in every shop Y/N walked into, with a new girl on his arm. Y/N retaliated with success, building the brand she had been working on since high school as the country’s new scientific mind, acting like she was too above the rest of the world to even care to know who Luke Patterson was…

One year.

One whole year since that night in New York, and the band were back by personal invitation. With their third world tour finally finished, and their fourth album in the works for release later that year, the guys and Julie had been riding a high, not quite sure if they’d ever fall down.

Their half decade of commercial success had handed them their third invitation to the Met Gala, a PR opportunity to promote themselves, according to Flynn. Their manager was flown out from LA with Willie, Reggie’s girlfriend Kayla and Julie’s girlfriend, the group opting to share a plane with Trevor and Carrie Wilson, almost a reunion for them all. It wasn’t often they all got to see one another, with the band constantly on tour the past years, but it felt like there was no better place to catch up: over $1,000 champagne as they all talked about the clothes they wore.

“And stepping out onto the carpet now we have the Phan-tastic Four themselves, Julie and her Phantoms!” It was the first voice Luke heard as he stepped out of the limousine and onto the red carpet, suddenly joined by a barrage of questions and flashes of cameras, hundreds of reporters and fans calling out his name. He gave his signature smirk and a wave, opening the car door wide and holding out a hand to Julie, helping her onto the carpet and smiling as gasps sounded around them.

She was a vision, dressed in a tulle ballgown, a mixture of blues and greens and yellows layered on one another, decorated with butterflies like she was some type of goddess. The theme for the year was Sense and Sustainability: Fashion of the Planet, and she had hit the nail on the head with the help of their designer that year. The boys too, had gone for the blue and green tones to match their lead singer: Luke was in a dark blue suit, Reggie in an emerald three-piece and Alex in a topaz shirt, all of them looking like they were straight out of some utopian alter-reality.

“You know, Luke, I think it’s my job to help Julie out of the car.” A voice spoke, Julie’s girlfriend emerging in a white tailored piece, she too decorated with butterflies, a flower the same colours as Julie’s dress proudly displayed on her lapel.

“He has a habit of coming to these things alone, he just likes having something to do.” Julie teased her friend, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting go, turning her attention to the girl by her side, the pair sharing a soft kiss, the camera surging into another frenzy.

“Honestly, it’s like we’re famous or something.” The next car pulled up, the voice this time being Reggie’s as he jumped from the still rolling car, assisting his girlfriend Kayla out the vehicle, she a beauty in purple. The pair were quickly followed by Alex and Willie, who both looked like they belonged on one of the Vogue runways instead of the red carpet.

“Divide and conquer, meet back at the steps?” Alex suggested, taking in the extravagance of it all, the constant flashing lights and the noise of it all. “Flynn and Carrie texted, they’re already inside.” He alerted on top of his question, the group sharing glances and nodding in agreement.

“Don’t say anything stupid.” Julie warned them all, the group breaking apart to make their ways down the carpet, towards the Met, respective partners in tow.

The next forty minutes were a slow crawl down the carpet amongst the world’s superstars, and Luke did his very best to answer the questions posed to him by prying reporters: he stuck to talking music, and the band and touring, and whenever questions about his love and sex life came up, he quickly laughed them off and changed the subject, a tactic that seemed to work quite well. He wasn’t the only person the journalists were looking to interview, and with each evaded question he felt the weight in his chest get lighter and lighter.

He had promised Julie and the guys, after all, that the night was about what really mattered: they had been asked to play a few songs for the event’s official after party, as well, their popularity shared amongst celebrities alongside the general public. Despite it being a fashion event, that night was about the music for the four.

“So, Luke, correct me if I’m wrong, but tonight is almost a school reunion, no?” The reporter asked, Luke stood to her left as the camera rolled, live feed of the night going straight onto TVs across the country.

“Well, yeah! I guess it is. It’s the first time we’ve had the chance to all be together since before the tour, and you can-” Luke was interrupted by a squeal, he and the reporter turning around to catch Julie and Flynn hugging in the centre of the walkway, coos coming from nearby celebrities who watched on as the girls embraced around the volumes of Julie’s dress fabric. “You can tell we’ve missed each other, can’t you?” He said, turning back to the reporter, who’s eyes flicked down to his arms and back up. He had forgone his suit jacket about twenty minutes before, the shirt underneath sporting sheer sleeves that showed off his biceps quite nicely.

“It’s uh.” The reporter cleared her throat. “From what I gather, the Los Feliz alumni make up over 1% of attendants tonight, and considering we have guests here from across the world, seems like there’s magic over at that school.” She suggested with a raise of the eyebrow, and Luke found himself chuckling. If only she knew…

“I should say hello to Miss Harrison actually, best music teacher in the world.” Luke waved at the camera quickly, and his eyes quickly surveyed the space. His friends had found themselves nearing the steps, and he was quite set on joining them.

“Of course, not all of the reunion class are in the music industry though, are they?” The reporter posed, and Luke frowned a little in confusion.

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me there…” He admitted, though his wonders were quickly answered as another car pulled up at the end of the carpet, yells and cameras flashing making it hard for Luke to focus on the person stepping out of the car, though it soon became rather clear with reporters crying out her name.

Plus, Luke knew Y/N’s body like the back of his hand.

There had to be something said for showing up to the biggest fashion event of the year in black, and more so for showing up in the iconic Coco Chanel fashion of a little black dress. There weren’t many people who could pull it off, but as she walked down the carpet, passing reporters begging for her attention, adorned in the form fitting dress that just passed her knees, the boatline neck putting focus on the gold chain necklace she wore, her stilettos red bottoms to match the crimson lipstick she wore, her hair in its natural waves and framing her face beautifully: no-one could have garnered more attention.

“Will you excuse me?” Luke asked, but before the reporter could speak up he was already making his way across to the centre of the carpet, a lazy smirk on his face as he looked her over, and she came to stand before him, the pair staring one another down. ‘You should’ve told me you’d be here, Princess’, he thought, a smile quirking on her lips as she held out a hand, Luke taking it in his own and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, his cold lips giving her goosebumps.

“I think your friends might be waiting for you.” She said softly, the pair breaking their hold on one another and beginning a walk for the steps, Y/N gasping softly at the sight of Julie in her dress. “My goodness, she looks stunning.”

“Yes, you do.” Luke responded, the pair sharing a glance before Y/N started up the stairs, Julie descending to meet her halfway as the pair held onto one another, Luke watching as they seemed to communicate telepathically: they had learned rather a lot from Y/N about Julie’s gifts, ones she had inherited from her mother, and Julie’s ability to see and speak to the dead also seemed to have the added bonus of receiving messages from witches. Y/N could read minds, Julie could mirror the effect.

“Oh, you haven’t met Hannah!” Julie exclaimed suddenly, the girl in black shaking hands with Julie’s girlfriend in white. “Why, how are you here?” The question seemed to perk more than Luke’s interest, microphones held out across the barricade by reports to try and catch a snippet of the words soon to leave Y/N’s mouth.

“Who do you think suggested the theme? The fashion industry is one of the biggest pollutants in America, and where better to flagship the reusable movement than at the biggest fashion event of the year.” Y/N giggled, Julie’s arm linking with hers as they began to walk again, a vision of colours against black. They complimented one another, strolling along the ways old friends do, Flynn coming across to greet them as Hannah and Luke followed behind, the four making their way for their waiting friends. “Besides, Anna owed me a favour.” Y/N added with a smirk, Luke catching the words and raising an eyebrow.

“Are you here on business, Y/L/N?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and coming to a stop beside Alex and Willie, the former of whom glanced over at Luke with warning: the last thing they needed was Luke on another front page, this time with the brightest young mind in America.

“Wintour has… Bouts of lycanthropy, and a problem with the undead hanging around museums.” Y/N explained in a low voice, glancing over and spotting the iconic magazine editor, sending her a polite wave from across the way. “I promised to do some banishings if she would kindly assist in the environmental progress movement. An endorsement from Anna Wintour goes a long way.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a fair exchange.”

“I’m sorry, can we backtrack for a moment? Banishings and lycanthropy?” Hannah asked, the group turning to look at her, Julie taking her hand as they decided who might explain. She was the newest addition to the friendship circle, her and Julie having been dating for just over a year and a half. She had joined the band for a leg of the tour, met Flynn.

Y/N was not a person Hannah knew very well, and the sudden talk of magical things, quite understandably, made the girl uneasy.

“So, you know how we told you about us being the g word? And Julie’s a medium?” Reggie said, throwing an arm over Kayla’s shoulder and pulling his girlfriend closer. When Hannah nodded, he continued. “And you know how there was the dead magician who tried to kill us again when the band first formed?” He stopped again, making sure the girl was keeping up with him. “Well, Caleb was a witch when he was alive, and Y/N over there, the one in black, you two have met. Well, Y/N was the alive witch who was meant to banish us and didn’t, thank you for that.” He nodded to the girl, and she smiled slightly, her eyes more focused on Luke across the circle from her. “And now she’s the science girl that everyone talks to on TV since Bill Nye is too old.”

“So… Potions and spells and candles and stuff?” Hannah asked, the group joining in a light chuckle as Y/N nodded.

“Indeed, though it’s a lot more logical than myth has people believing.” Y/N said, her attention diverting from Luke as their host approached, the young men and women all finding themselves straightening up at the sight of her.

“Dr Y/L/N, it’s lovely to see you again. Might we have a word?” Wintour asked, removing Y/N from the group with the words and a quick wave goodbye, the young woman sending a wink Luke’s way before disappearing with the chief editor of Vogue, the pair stopping for an interview further down the stairway.

The title was one that made Y/N smile every time she heard it, the hard work of her youth paying off with respect from elders. It was important for her public persona too, people tended to believe you more if you had the suffix, and for someone so young, it helped her appear mature. There weren’t a lot of perks to getting your first of two doctorates at nineteen, the whole process of being a wunderkind leading up to it had been stressful to say the least, not to mention the added pressures of being groomed to lead the coven one day, but she made it work.

“So, Dr Y/L/N, perhaps we should talk about why you’re here?” The reporter’s question brought Y/N back to reality, stood beside Wintour with a practiced smile to the camera.

“Well, Monica.” Y/N was sure to use the reporter’s first name with a smile. “When Vogue made the move to promote sustainable fashion and opened the bid to make the top designer brands carbon neutral by 2030, I simply couldn’t refuse.” She had rehearsed what to say, she always did. Her appearances were important, her time on screen needed to mean something to viewers. “We are saving our planet, our economy, our livelihoods one step at a time here, this move to recycled materials is predicted to create thousands of new jobs globally within the fashion industry. And as someone who studies these things for a living, probability and the effects of pollutants, the political climate on these issues, I know that I’m here representing the entire scientific community tonight, approving of the incredible work done by our designers, our celebrities who help spread awareness, and by the people at home.”

“You know, I still can’t get over how young you are, I apologise.” The reporter responded with a light laugh, Y/N offering a soft smile back.

“Young, but wise beyond her years. She’s the one we need to listen to.” Anna interrupted with a nod to Y/N. “Two doctorates and five degrees under her belt, not to mention the sense of style.” She complimented, and the reporter rounded off the interview as the pair walked away. “How long until the banishing is over?” She whispered, the pair ascending the staircase to enter the hall, celebrities by the dozen milling around, finding their tables, sitting themselves down for the dinner soon to be served.

“Surely you can trust me to get the job done in a timely fashion, Anna.” Y/N remarked, hands clasped behind her back.

“You’re a witch, of course I don’t trust you.” She muttered, the pair sharing masquerade smiles as they quickly separated, the rather cruel thoughts wandering around the fashion icon’s head causing Y/N to smirk. Her night was just beginning, of course, and as she made her way towards the security corridors on the far side of the hall, her eyes scanned over the room to find Luke looking right back at her, that smug look her hated on his face, arms folded as he rather blatantly checked her out.

’12.05?’ Luke asked as they shared the gaze, the time meaning something to them both. When she nodded, Luke’s gaze focused back on his table of friends, leaving Y/N to disappear in peace, though her mind was once again at war.

She just couldn’t say no to him.

It was a fairly desperate call for Luke to have to rope Y/N into something, but she owed him a few favours from the year before, and he was not going to be the only person at the Halloween record label party without a date: especially not when his ex-girlfriend was going to be there.

As much as he disliked it, Luke was quite certain he needed the hottest person he knew, and it was, rather unfortunately, the witch. It helped that Julie, Flynn and Carrie had banded together that summer to reimagine their friend’s wardrobe: they had fitted Y/N with a style somewhere between ‘if looks could kill’ and ‘you wish you could’, outfits that all looked like they belonged on the cover of a couture magazine, with elements of the witch theme laced in. And while Luke and the band hadn’t seen Y/N in months, what with them recording in LA and her studying at Stanford, just outside of San Francisco, he was hopeful that he could salvage some shred of dignity if he had a pretty girl on his arm.

His breakup with Alice had been front page news for weeks, a mess of lies and cheating and constant scandal that had worked in everyone’s favour, even if it left Luke feeling worse for wear. It was the same as his relationship before Alice, and then his relationship before Alice and Rita… He was quite committed to swearing off romance until he hit forty, at least then he’d be avoiding the front page if things went south.

He arrived at the Fall Down Records HQ coming close on eleven o’clock, a slam of his car door echoing around the street as cameras flashed and caught him on his way in. He blocked out the bright lights and noise, the questions of how he was coping with the breakup, of how he was feeling about Alice’s new boyfriend: by the time the new month started, he had no doubt his tragic affair with the country singer would be overshadowed by the mysterious girl who had arrived at the party earlier that night.

“Luke, you made it!” As the boy entered into the lobby of the building, decorated from top to two in Halloween décor, Trevor welcomed his friend with a smile and quick hug. It was weird, Bobby now being Trevor and Trevor being the same age as Julie’s dad, perhaps weirder that he helped run the label JATP was signed to, but apologies had been handed out and late statements made by Trevor to credit the guys on his first album, so he had sort of just become an uncle now. He was older, wiser, changed from the kid Luke had known, but he still cared about him and Alex and Reggie, just instead of getting them fake IDs and letting them crash in his old garage, now Trevor read the fine prints of the band’s contracts and offered free use of his helicopter.

“Did a pretty girl dressed as an angel show up?” He asked, getting straight to the point. He himself was dressed in an all-black number, sleeveless of course, and had managed to put in some red contacts, a modern take on the Devil.

“She’s with Julie, doing a rather good job at outshining your ex-girlfriend…” Trevor muttered, gesturing to the left of them, Luke’s head turning to locate the girl he had effectively hired to date him for the night.

And she took his breath away.

Y/N stood at Julie’s side by a karaoke machine, the two singing to one another as crowds cheered them on, his ‘girlfriend’ looking like she could’ve quite literally come down from heaven: she had flat out refused to dress up as a witch, and when Luke suggested that their dressing as angel and demon could also be construed as cultural appropriation, Y/N had laughed until she cried. He had asked what was so funny, and she had asked if he had ever seen an angel in person.

It was safe to say that the fluffy white wings and halo mortals had commercialised was a far cry from the true essence of angelic powers: they more resembled blobs that floated, one large eyes in the middle, usually surrounded by rings of heaven fire and something one might describe as spinning wheels of death. All spikes meant to destroy anything impure that came close.

Safe to say, Luke didn’t plan on going to heaven any time soon.

As the song ended, the girls turning to the crowd to bow, Y/N’s eyes fell on Luke at the far side of the room, and she took the opportunity to pay him back.

“You’re here!” She squealed, sending a quick wink Julie’s way, their friend aware of the favour, before putting on her best performance: rushing through the breaking crowd to jump into Luke’s arms, his own instinctively wrapping around her waist to hold her up as he spun around to gain his balance again.

‘Happy to see me, Princess?’ he raised an eyebrow as she read his thoughts, Luke’s eyes drifting over to land on Alice, who watched from the corner of the room rather intently. ‘She’s looking at me…´he thought, Y/N glanced back as Luke placed her back on the ground, a thought coming to her head.

“Let’s give her something to gossip about, yeah?” She suggested, pulling Luke close to her by his collar, planting her lips on his in front of the entire room, making quite sure to embarrass the girl who decided to cheat on Luke Patterson.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?!” Julie called out, the crowd filling the Bowery Ballroom cheering back as she took the stage, microphone in hand. Julie had opted to change dress, her ballgown replaced with a white strapless number, keeping to the theme of butterflies that night and now matching her girlfriend, who stood in the front row of the crowd encouraging her on with a thumbs up.

The evening had been more than a success, with the crowd of celebrities migrating from the Met to the music venue she stood on the stage of as the formalities quickly came to a close. JATP had been begged to play a show, many of the celebrities that night major fans of the young rock stars, and after a DJ set from a mix of the Billboard 100’s top producers, Julie found herself taking the stage with the promise of a song.

“I just want to say thank you, on behalf of myself and the guys, for letting us play. And… Well, we’ve decided that for such a special occasion, we ought to give you something new.” Another chorus of cheers echoed in the space, Julie walking round to place her microphone on the stand by the keyboard waiting for her. “The guys and I have been working on album number four, and this song was one Luke wrote last year just after we left for the World Tour.” Julie paused, looking out into the crowd, her eyes finding Y/N’s as she watched from beside Flynn. “It’s called Bloody Valentine, and we hope you like it.” She finished, the cheers and applause dying down when a sudden guitar riff came from out of nowhere, Julie joining in with piano chords alongside a bassline and a drum beat from Alex, the sounds filling the air despite three of the four musicians being absent.

“The simulation just went bad, but you're the best I ever had. Like hand prints in wet cement, she touched me it's permanent.” Julie sang out, another swell of cheers as the crowd began dancing to the fast paced drum beat and guitar riffs of the song. A flash of light, and Reggie appeared on stage, no longer in his emerald suit from the event, but changed into a silk shirt of the same hue, a pop of colour under his trusty leather jacket and tucked into his ripped skinny jeans.

“In my head, in my head, I couldn’t hear anything you said but in my head.” Reggie took the melody line, Julie harmonising on top, moving away from the piano and crossing the stage to sing with her friend, the two beginning to dance along to the music they made. “In my head, I’m calling you girlfriend what the-” the curse word meant to finish the phrase was overshadowed by a drum fill as Alex appeared on stage behind the pair, his topaz shirt now half open, his hair a mess and his sticks hot from the sheer speed of his hands.

“I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight. I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight.” The three sang the first half of the chorus together, Julie jumping up onto the drum stand with Alex to rock out as he played an sang, leaving room on stage as their final member flashed onto the stage, his suits pants switched for a pair of jeans and sneakers, his shirt now without it’s sheer sleeves, showing off Luke’s arms as they flexed, the guitarist taking lead on the song with a complicated guitar riff.

“I can't stay forever, let's play pretend, and treat this night like it'll happen again. You'll be my bloody valentine.” Luke sang to the screams of the crowd, a smile on his face as he sang, his eyes roaming the crowd for the girl dressed in black, stood a row or two from the front, sending her a wink as he performed. “Tonight.”

“I'm overstimulated and I'm sad. I don't expect you to understand. It's nothing less than true romance or am I just making a mess?” Luke and Julie found themselves singing together, his friend dancing across the stage and leading him along with her microphone as they played for the hundreds before them, Julie switching to the harmony line as the second pre-chorus came back around. “In my head, in my head, I'm laying naked with you, yeah. In my head, in my head, I'm ready to die holding your hand.”

“I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight. I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight. I can't stay forever, let's play pretend and treat this night like it'll happen again. You'll be my bloody valentine tonight.” Luke took the second chorus by himself, while Julie hyped up the crowd, Alex and Reggie going hard on drums and bass behind him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting over to Y/N as he sang, the girl stood there with a smirk on her lips. He wondered if she was reading his mind, if she knew what he was thinking, if she knew the song was about her, about them: about the chaotic and borderline toxic relationship they had developed over the years. He wondered if she remembered the year before, the night they shared in New York before he vanished off for a World Tour, before she had fully accepted her role as America’s Greatest Scientific Mind.

The instrumental break had the crowd going wild, Luke, Reggie and Julie harmonising on their separate instruments while Alex improvised on the drums, quickly bringing the tempo down and starting a roll on the snare, Luke coming back to his mic to sing.

“I can't hide how I feel about you. Inside, I'd give everything up tonight, if I could just have you be mine. Be mine, baby.” Luke’s voice had a gravel in it, something raw and powerful that took people’s breath away. He glanced over to Reggie and Julie as he sang, the three sharing smiles until Reggie glanced out at the crowd, his grin dropping to a frown, Julie’s soon following. Luke tracked their gazes as he held onto the microphone for balance, every piece of joy in him suddenly filled with rage.

There, in the third row back, was some guy, dressed like he’d just come from a giving a university lecture, with his arms around Y/N’s waist, his chin resting against her shoulder as he pressed kisses to her neck.

“I can't hide how I feel about you. Inside, I'd give everything up tonight, if I could just have you be mine. Be mine.” Luke continued, dropping back from the mic once he had sung the last of the bridge, leaving Alex to another drum fill, a chance to show off that Luke had before been so excited to hear. Now? He just felt numbing anger, it was clear on his face: he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Y/N, who seemed to be refusing to return his gaze, her eyes anywhere but on him.

“I don’t do fake love but I’ll take some from you tonight. I know I’ve got to go but I just might miss the flight.” Reggie and Julie took over singing the last chorus, trying not to show concern as they performed, trying to remain professional. They both wondered exactly what Luke would do once they got off stage, wondered if Reggie and Alex would need to hold their friend back while Julie attempted to talk him down, but it seemed like Luke’s frustrations were coming out on his guitar and the song. He stepped up to the microphone again, green eyes piercing into Y/N’s very soul as he played like he wouldn’t get another chance.

“I can't stay forever, let's play pretend and treat this night like it'll happen again. You'll be my bloody valentine tonight.” Her eyes finally looked up, her face one of blank expression, and it almost gave him hope. She almost look annoyed, though he couldn’t tell if it was at him or the man who’s hands had begun travelling across her body.

“No not enough, no not enough, no not enough, no not enough no just tonight.” The four sang, repeating the line over again as the song came to a close, Luke swinging his guitar behind him as Alex drummed them out, heavy breathing in a mix of adrenaline and wrath.

The moment the song ended, the crowd bursting into applause, with significant others quickly rushing to the stage to congratulate Julie, Reggie and Alex, Luke watched Y/N slip her way out of the mystery man’s arms, making a beeline to a door by the stage side. It took Luke a second, setting his guitar on the stand and following after her, ignoring a call of ‘Luke wait!’ from his bandmates as he slammed open the door walking down the backstage corridors.

He was hunting, following the scent of perfume, that sweet mix of apple and lemon that made him lightheaded, the echoes of stilettos on concrete. It wasn’t often that he used his ghostly gifts, more because he had gotten used to being human again, but it a moment of frustration at the endless hallways and rooms that seemed to filled that backstage of the Bowery, he poofed with Y/N in mind.

She had expected him to follow of course, they had agreed it earlier that evening. While Luke hadn’t been paying attention to the time, he appeared in one of the Bowery’s backstage bathrooms just as the clock hit 12.05, finding Y/N perched on the sink with a window cracked open and a cigarette between her blood red lips. She blew the smoke out the window, turning back to look at him, reaching out a hand from him to grip onto as he steadied himself. He hadn’t jumped like that in years, the feeling foreign to him.

“Luke…” She said softly, sincerity in her voice that was rare: she wasn’t a woman prone to expressive emotion.

“You could have fucking told me you were with someone before I got on stage.” He hissed, cutting off any type of apology she might have tried to give, not that she was known for them. “I mean, I knew you were a total bitch, Princess, but do I not get any warning?!”

“We don’t do feelings Patterson, you know that.” She whispered softly, taking another drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out and tossing it through the window, the smoke she blew out hanging in the air.

“Are you really going to sit there and act like we don’t have something?! Really?” Luke exclaimed with an angry laugh, running a hand through his hair in disbelief at the girl before him, who sat stoic, straight backed with her legs crossed one over the other, like she was being interviewed on one of those stupid news shows.

“It doesn’t matter what we have if it would never work, Luke!” She finally let her temper break, yelling the response back at him despite her perfect posture. “We aren’t friends! We can never be friends! We’re two different people leading two very different lives. And to be quite honest with you, Jackson fits into mine.” She admitted, trying to stop her bottom lip from quivering. The last thing she was going to be was weak.

“Jackson, so that’s his name.” Luke scoffed, taking a step closer to Y/N, and another. “Tell me something, Princess.” He muttered, his hand lifting her legs apart for him to get closer, his cold demeanour matching the chill that exuded from his body, causing goosebumps to form on Y/N’s arms and legs. “Does he have the same effect on you that I have?”

“No.” She confessed, her head hanging low as she let out the word. Luke’s thumb and forefinger caught her chin, raising her face to look him in the eyes, the smirk on his lips prompting Y/N to add to her confession. “But I suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Can you tell me honestly that you can give this up?” Luke posed the question, and for a moment Y/N had to pause, to gulp, the closeness of their bodies all too tempting. “You know, you may be the smarty pants young doctor out to save the world around everyone else, Princess, but I’ve heard you scream my name before.” He whispered, his lips centimetres from making contact with skin. “You like this, you love this. Us…Late nights in hotel rooms and sneaking out before morning.” A hand finally placed down against her thigh, the cold skin against her flushed body almost shocking had it not been a feeling Y/N had craved. “You like the adrenaline that comes with going back to what ever pencil neck you’ve wrapped around your little finger while my cum is still on your thighs, marks I left still on your neck.”

All of it was true, but of course Y/N had no intention of admitting it, of boosting that asshole’s ego anymore than she already had. She shouldn’t have agreed to even meeting him, no matter how badly she craved the feeling of Luke’s body against hers, of his hand around her neck as he fucked her senseless.

“Let go of me and I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.” She promised, to which Luke laughed, the hand he had on her thigh pushing her skirt higher and higher, coming down towards the inside of her thigh, brushing the lace of her panties. Her breathing hitched, her body betraying her.

“Face it, Y/N…” He said softly, moving back to look her in the eyes as a finger hooked under her panties and pull them down her thighs, Luke biding his time, waiting for the fabric to fall to his feet before continuing. “You need me as much as I need you.” He assured her, his eyes flicking between hers and her mouth. He silently asked permission, Y/N giving it to him when her hands moved to the belt buckle on his jeans, quickly undoing it and letting Luke’s pants fall slack.

Luke didn’t hesitate any longer, taking her face in his hands and pressing their lips together, his tongue fast into her mouth and dominant. He often took control like this, something Y/N could never quite bring herself to resist, and she was almost immediate in her reciprocation of the kiss, her hands coming to the hem of Luke’s shirt, unbuttoning it quickly and pushing it off his shoulders as their lips collided.

Kissing him was like jumping from a cliff into waters one would assume were warm, only to land and hit the freezing sea below. It was the taste of salt on his tongue, the tug of his hands in her hair, the way she panted for breath between kisses like she might drown in him.

Y/N was always the one to make the second move, it was how they worked. Luke always initiated, she always responded, it was a back and forth. They didn’t speak, they knew each other so well they didn’t need it. Her hands coming to his boxers briefs and palming at his stiff member through the clothes, asking for him to take his turn, prompted Luke to do so, moving aside the last piece of clothing separating them from the thing they both begged for.

Luke lined himself up with her entrance, breaking the kiss to pull Y/N to the very edge of the counter, pushing her skirt completely past her ass. His body between her thighs spread her legs, Luke smiling as she whimpered.

“You asshole, don’t make me wait.” She moaned out, giving up on trying to feign resentment, her hand coming to his locks and pulling him in for another kiss, Luke pushing himself into her as they lips collided once again.

A year without one another, Luke had missed the feeling of her walls clenching around his cock. He had missed the way she whimpered curse words under her breath as he set a hard and fast pace. She clung to the counter top for some sense of stability, letting her head fall back as a moan racked her body.

“Fuck Princess, so good for me.” Luke groaned, his lips coming to her exposed neck and pressing down on her sweet spot, making sure to leave a mark, to tell whoever saw her next that she belonged to someone else. His eyes trailed over her in the vulnerable state, taking his cock like the good girl she always was once he had her panties on the floor. He admired the site: her tight cunt spread around his girth as he pounded into her, evidence of her arousal catching the dim lighting overhead.

“Luke… F-fuck…” Y/N whimpered, one hand coming round the back of his neck, pulling him deeper as she began chasing her high, the knots in her stomach slowly beginning to form, his body against hers beginning to burn with each touch. They weren’t meant to be compatible, and yet sex never felt better than with one another. “Baby, don’t stop.” She gasped out, her eyes widening as he bit into her skin, a guttural moan leaving her body, unable to fight back against the smug look on his face.

She had forgotten just how good he was, just how much she wanted him. As the knots in her stomach tightened, the tension in Luke’s abdomen increased, both chasing towards euphoria, Luke’s breathing grew shaky, his pace turning sloppy, his thrusts deeper and deeper.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” Luke muttered, a hand coming down to rub circles against her clit, the action throwing Y/N over the edge, into the waves of ecstasy as the knots in her stomach unfurled, her eyes squeezing shut and her head falling onto Luke’s should as he too spent himself inside her.

They stayed like that for a moment, ragged breathing and Y/N’s rapid heartbeat seeming to pound hard and loud enough for someone two rooms over to hear. She found herself holding onto him, letting herself relax for a moment, even enjoy it, as Luke’s hand came up and petted her head, only moving back when her cheek burned too much from his icy skin.

‘I think she’s in love with me…’ Luke’s intrusive thought wasn’t one he meant to think, but it seemed to be the one Y/N heard. She pushed him back to the other side of the small bathroom, Luke unable to rid himself of the smug expression he wore as he tucked himself back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans.

"He doesn't make you happy." Luke’s voice almost sang in victory, leaning back against the wall as Y/N cleaned herself of their scandal, their affair. Once she had finished, flushing the secret they shared down the toilet with the toilet paper, he reached out and pulled her close to him. His hand came up to her mouth, his thumb pressing against her bottom lip, ego inflating when her felt her tremble slightly in his grasp. "You know he doesn't…"

"Yeah, well at least he doesn't make me sad, Luke." Y/N snapped back in response, interrupting him from finishing his sentence, a stray tear rolling down her cheek as he held her in his arms, catching Luke off-guard and forcing his hands to drop away, his mind to go blank. He didn't think he had ever seen her cry before, but then again, Y/N never had cause to feel shame. She didn't have cause to feel it until then, storming out of that bathroom, knowing for a fact she would do everything in her power to stop herself from loving Luke Patterson.

Tags: @siennanoelle01 @epikskool @eries45 @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @lanasfandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @korydickson @sunsetpatterson @uglypeachh @reggieandthereggies @rogersangel @izzyhogue @writerinlearning @independentgirl @delicatelukepatterson @melsucks1 @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @mjflower @heimdoodle @kcd15 @-episkey- @walkingonshunshine @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @kristencoontz @n0wornever @simp4madi @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @jatpfan99 @blueyed-one @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter @daisiesforlacey @valntynegillespie @ritz-hell-hotel @reggiesleatherjacket @hemmingsness @ssprayberrythings @whitemanshoe19 @mishapned @lukespaterson @caitsymichelle13 @dovesgrangers @morganayennefertyrell @kissing-thunder @localfangirlx @queenxxkiller @sunset-swerves @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @fireballdaisy @theatricalfangirl @marinettepotterandplagg @kaylinfayezink @crappy-unicorn @all-in-fangirl @hologramband @calamitykaty @dxlanhxlland

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp au #jatp #julie and the phantoms #angsty smut #smut #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #julie and the himbos

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nakunakunomi · 3 years

Text

This is part of the Awkward Fluff Collab I am doing with @burnthoneymint and @some-piece (who made the banner!). Prompt: I’m so sleepy/drunk, but I still try to flirt. What a pity I mistook you for someone else. Requested by: @burnthoneymint - Writer's pick.

2nd person. Fem!reader. Mentions of alcohol, drunkness.

Pirate parties were your favorite. The food was good, the atmosphere was nice, everyone seemed to be happy, and the alcoholic beverages seemed to be bottomless. You were usually a little more conservative when it came to your drinking habits, life on a ship required you to be sober most of the time for adventures and possible emergencies. But something about parties made the liquid courage so much more accessible and made it easier to convince your mind that a ‘few more drinks’ couldn’t really hurt. Right?

Truth be told, the fact that you called it liquid courage today, was because you were pretty sure you could use some of that quality booze to lower your inhibitions and finally make a move on the ship’s cook. You had your eye on Sanji for a while now, and while you were definitely enjoying all the special attention he gave you along with the other female crew members, you couldn’t help but long for more.

You knew the best way to get there was to let him know that you were interested, but that was way easier said than done. You were a disaster when it came to expressing such feelings, and when it came to flirting? Well, someone call the paramedics because there’s an accident waiting to happen.

That being said, nothing that a little alcohol won’t help, and thus, that’s why you were now on your… well, you couldn’t exactly remember how many glasses you had drunk already, but you were feeling good. A pleasant buzz was in your head, everything seemed funnier than before. It was time to get to the next step of the plan: find the object of your affection, flirt a little, make him want more and then reel him in slowly, like a good fish caught for dinner.

The first signal that something was wrong came the minute you tried to stand up. Your legs felt wobbly, a bit like jelly, and the pleasant, small waves that made walking on deck usually so enjoyable, now seemed like a huge storm determined to bring you out of balance. It took you three tries to get to stand up straight, and another seven to make it across the ship, where you held onto the railing to steady yourself.

“Okay y/n, you can do it. Slow and steady, take some deep breaths”, you tried to encourage yourself.

You followed your own advice, and as you turned to continue on your mission a lightbulb went off in your head. Maybe you should try and test your techniques on someone else first. You could just tell them afterward it’s for Sanji. Maybe you could get some tips to improve, so you would be irresistible when you finally used them on him. In the hazy fog that was clouding your brain, this seemed like the best plan you’ve had in your life.

You walked around, looking for someone that would be okay with your advances in the other crew. Your thought process was, that since you wouldn’t be with the other crew anymore from tomorrow onwards, even if this all went wrong, the awkwardness wouldn’t last. The worst thing that could happen was that Sanji himself would reject your advances, but you trusted him to be nice enough to not hold that against you afterward.

You picked another blond, similar body type to Sanji, wanting to not break the illusion too much. You took another deep breath (and another gulp of your drink) before you made your way over to them.

A million things to say went through your head. Clever things, funny pick-up lines, downright romantic (and slightly melodramatic) opening sentences. So you had no idea why your brain decided that “Nice ass” was the best you could come up with. You had a sly grin on your face, eyebrows slightly raised as you nodded to your own remark. Your hazy brain had officially crowned you the queen of pickup lines, nothing could go wrong.

The man turned around, confusion apparent on his face.

“I’m sorry y/n, you said something?”

“Yes.” You turned your head a little, grin still very present on your face. You took a pause, another sip of your drink and repeated the two words. Again, you were extremely proud at the compliment you had conjured up.

The man looked at you in confusion, and you frowned in response. Why wasn’t it working?

“Y/n, are you drunk?”

“Yeah, a little. What of it?” You felt yourself getting a little defensive. Everyone here was drunk. Why weren’t you allowed to be drunk?

“Nothing wrong with it… but, please be careful, you don’t want to say those kinds of things to the wrong person. They might take advantage of you.”

You frowned. This was supposed to be a practice in flirting, not a talk on the morality of the average man present on the ship. You decided to tell him just that.

“Practise in flirting? With me?”

“Yeah… I kinda just want to flirt with Sanji, can’t do it without this,” you held up your drink and emptied it, holding it out for someone to give you a refill. The man you were talking to gently took the cup from your hands, not refilling it, much to your dismay.

“I think you’ve had enough, Y/n”

“You don’t know me, you don’t get to say what I can or can’t drink. Just tell me what to say to Sanji so he will think I am absolutely irresistible.”

“I’m pretty sure he already thinks that, y/n”

You frowned again, thinking this conversation was going nowhere. You’d go find Sanji now, and just bluntly tell him your feelings. That would work and maybe you could still add in your flirting skills. You tried to grab your cup back to get that refill, losing your balance in the process, falling forward. Luckily the blond guy stepped forward and pulled you back up with an arm around your waist. You didn’t even get the chance to register you were falling.

You gasped from the sudden shock, inhaling his scent, and all of a sudden part of the fog in your head cleared. You felt your knees grow weak and despite the man supporting you, you sunk to your knees on the deck, the man kneeling down with you.

“Y/n? Are you okay? Should I go get Chopper?” You were feeling all kinds of flustered. Your mind was clear, your words still slurred. “Sanji- I- You… me… I didn’t think… I thought… I- blond, look like you… IS you… oh no”

He chuckled. “We’ll talk this out after you’ve had a nap, Y/n, you could really use one.”

You were feeling so weak, you could only nod in response, your world a blur again as you felt yourself being picked up and carried to the girl’s room. Your head was spinning, a mix of embarrassment, alcohol-induced dizziness, and a feeling that you couldn’t quite place, but your heart was beating so fast and you felt like you could cry.

When you were dropped on your bed, a soft kiss was placed on your forehead. “Sanji I-”

“It’s okay Y/n. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. That is, if you can remember it.” He winked at you and let out a chuckle. You looked at your blankets, unable to make eye contact all of a sudden, all the extra confidence that you had gained through the alcohol had been left on deck the moment you fell to your knees. You nodded, and you heard him leave the room, although he hesitated right before the door.

“Do you really think I have a nice ass?”

#One piece #Sanji x reader #one piece imagine #vinsmoke sanji #one piece x reader #sanji imagine #awkward fluff collab #collaboration #one piece scenario #sanji scenario #reader imagine #female reader #burnthoneymint #OP scenario #opfics #one piece fanfic #alcohol tw #drunkness tw

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

Bill Weasley — Intoxicating

Summary: Bill Weasley had picked up a habit of smoking from his peers in Egypt. When he came back to Britain for summer, he met you in a fancy restaurant, as his barista.

Words: 3,415

Warnings ⚠ : Floofy Stuff, Cute, Sexual Tension, I Don't Write Smut so None of Them, Bill Weasley being Deviously Charming

Disclaimer: Domhnall Gleeson can run me over and I would thank him this man is sO FINE

"William, you're home!" Molly's voice echoed around the Burrow and Bill laughed as he engulfed the small woman, "Missed you, Mum."

The rumbles of stairs indicated his other family members running down to see him. Upon knowing them for years, he could predict the one who comes down first would be-

"Ah, Ickle Billiekins!" Two grown men engulfed him in a bro hug, and Bill chuckled, "Fred. George. How's the shop going?"

Fred smiled in triumph, "Splendid! We're planning to open our second franchise soon in London!

"Bill!" Ginny pushed away from the twins and hugged him, the complaints of the twins were visible. "Ginny! How are you, lil sis?"

Being the only sister he had, Ginny has a special place in his heart. Everybody knows how spoiled she is with him. The ten-year difference between them doesn't help either.

After catching up with the rest of the family, The Weasleys had a celebratory dinner to celebrate Bill being home for the summer. Ginny and Ron even invited Harry and Hermione, whom Bill knew pretty well because of the war a few years ago.

Molly being the lovable mum she is, kept adding food to his plate, Bill had to ask help from Arthur with pleading eyes. "Now, now, Molly dear, we don't want Bill to have indigestion now, do we?"

"But he's so thin now! Oh, what have they been feeding you at Egypt?"

Bill chuckled, "Mum, I've been like this since Hogwarts."

Molly gave him a motherly smile, "Oh alright. How's Egypt?" She changed the topic, and Bill had never been more grateful, his stomach almost exploded.

Hours after dinner ended, Bill stepped out of the Burrow to puff out a smoke or two. He heard someone opening the door and closing it, footsteps nearing him and Bill was pleasantly surprised to see Harry Potter, the hero a few years ago who defeated the bloody wizard Voldemort.

"You smoke?" He asked in bewilderment. Bill inhaled and kept it in, feeling the nicotine in his system for as long as he could before exhaling the white semi-dense smoke. He kept his views to the tall grass field in front of him, "Got it from my peers back in Egypt. Thought it's a good distraction, and it is."

"Distraction from what?"

"Thinking. So many thoughts and not all of them are pretty. Especially if you have 6 younger siblings and two aging parents." Bill confessed, finally looking at Harry with a small smile, "And now two troublesome future in-laws."

Harry chuckled and diverted his eyes from Bill, a heavy blush at the nickname, "Maybe later, I reckon. Ginny's focusing on her career first and I as an Auror. We have no time for a wedding."

Bill snorted, "Why are you acting like we didn't have Charlie's wedding in the middle of chaos 3 years ago?"

The two men burst into laughter. Looking back, it was amusing to have a wedding ceremony out of nowhere, especially if the night before someone just died- ehem, mad-eye, ehem- anyway. The laughter died down, and comfortable silence began. Harry was looking up to the stars, sighing, "We sure do have a lot of adventures here."

Bill shrugged, "I've been having adventures since I was born, Harry. Adding you into the family isn't that special," He teased and Harry rolled his eyes playfully.

Bill took a final puff and exhaled loudly, dropping the almost finished cigarette to the ground and stepped on it a few times, no one wants a random fire in the middle of the night.

Harry walked back in first, but then he turned back and said, "Maybe you're not the only one getting an in-law soon."

Bill snorted, Harry was referring to Bill about marriage, "Maybe," He said, didn't really want to jinx anything if he says no. Harry smiled at him and entered the Burrow, leaving him alone.

Bill sighed, looking down to the dead roll of cigarette on the ground, "Maybe," He whispered, even when he knew it's not likely.

A few days after that night, Bill got an owl from his peers from Egypt. They invited him to a fancy party in a muggle restaurant in London, something about celebrating their 10th year working in Egypt.

He sighed quietly, he really doesn't want to go, something about being in a crowd exhausts him. But alas, he figured it would be worthwhile to catch up with his friends and enjoy a drink or two.

Who knows, maybe he could find someone there, although that's nearly impossible. Not that Bill cared about blood status, it's more to the scar on his face from Greyback a few years ago.

Who would date a scar-face?

Bill smiled bitterly, this thought kinda hurt him a little bit, but he let it tear down his mood no further. He has a party tonight to attend anyway. A fancy one.

That evening, Bill had whipped out the fanciest suit he could find and had Transfigured his hair into the color of dark brown, for fun. Molly, of course, had her disagreement as ginger hair has become a trademark of a Weasley for so long, but Bill had reassured her it's only for the night.

"Looking fancy, eh? Have a date somewhere?" George teased his older brother, the eldest just chuckled and shook his head, "Got a party at a fancy restaurant in London, had to dress my best."

"Ouch Billie, already forgetting to be a Weasley?" Fred chimed in, faking a hurt expression with his hand on his left chest. Bill rolled his eyes playfully, his dark brown hair sure did look weird after years having ginger as the hue of his hair, "Sod off, Freddie."

"Well, I think you look handsome, Bill," Ginny said suddenly, walking towards her older brother to fix his tie. Bill looked at her in triumph and glared at the twins, "Finally, someone on my side,"

Ginny chuckled and patted his chest when she was done, "I'll always be on your side. Just don't wear it too long, don't want you to forget you're a Weasley."

Bill chuckled and kissed her forehead, "Yes, ma'am."

Apparating to the alley behind the bar, Bill walked in the party looking ravishingly stunning, although he sort of regretting the new color on his head.

"William!" Shouts from his peers made him smile ear to ear. The night was celebrated with a few drinks here and there, Bill had a wonderful time catching up with his friends.

But a few hours later, the said friends had separated into different corners with their partners, leaving Bill, the only one who doesn't have a partner, to be alone.

Bill clicked his tongue, the sudden feeling of wanting to smoke was strong. He hadn't associated himself with this many muggles before. Nevertheless, they're all human beings in the end, magic or not. He checked his watch, it's a quarter past 10, the night is still young.

And so Bill went to the bar section of the restaurant, wanting some alone time from many people. He fished out the cigarette box from his pocket and took one, placing it in between his lips.

Bill inwardly groaned as he remembered he couldn't use magic to light up his cigarette, there are way too many muggles to witness and honestly, he doesn't want to go to Court, especially when the government is still corrupted even after years of Voldemort gone.

He patted around his suit, hoping there is somehow a box of matches resting inside one of his many pockets. The cigarette between his lips was starting to get wet.

Suddenly he heard a flicker, and Bill was met face to face with a tiny light of fire.

Strange, the fire was resting on top of a metallic box with a lid. Bill blinked, and that's when he properly see you.

His eyes met yours, and for the first time in years, Bill Weasley was speechless. It was only when you shook the tiny fire on your hand slightly that he realized that he was staring.

He quickly leaned into the fire to light up his cigarette, nodding to you in gratitude. He took a long inhale, relaxing as the toxic substance entered his system. He exhaled and looked at you with a smile, "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "Did you forgot to bring your lighter or something?" You said, and Bill was slightly surprised at how easily you sparked up a conversation with him.

"I beg your pardon?" He said, and you nudged to the metallic box in your hand, flickering the light up once again, "A lighter. You forgot to bring it?"

So it's called a lighter. Fascinating. Bill thought as he chuckled, "Sort of," he said, not really wanting to say his 'lighter' is a spell.

"Anything you want to drink?" You asked, and that's when Bill realized you were over the other side of the counter, and you were wearing a white blouse and a patterned dark red vest over it. Ah, you're a barista.

Your hair was put on a low ponytail, and Bill suddenly missed his long red hair. Curse this brown short hair.

Bill hold his cigarette in between his index and middle finger, "Just water, please." You raised an eyebrow, "Water? Really?"

Bill chuckled at your teasing demeanor, and you were surprised at how he wasn't offended by your jokes. Your usual customers would usually tell you to shut the fuck up and bring them drinks quietly.

"Home was quite far from here. Don't want to drive home dead drunk now, do we?" Bill chimed, a genuine smile was on his lips. He wasn't this friendly around strangers, but there was this vibe around you that tells him to loosen up and enjoy his time.

You smiled at his remark, he was the friendliest customer of the night so far. "Oh c'mon, you're sitting on a bar! Surely you'll drink something." You said with a playful toothy grin. Once again, Bill chuckled, "Alright then. A glass of wine please."

"Atta boy," You quietly cheered and got to work. Bill watched you silently, occasionally bringing his cigarette onto his lips, somehow the nicotine wasn't as strong as before, now that you're here.

He couldn't pinpoint what was it, but you were... Charming.

"I've never seen you before," You struck up a conversation with Bill again once you delivered his glass of wine. This man before you was ravishingly stunning, would be quite a waste if you just watch this masterpiece from afar.

You could say he was the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. Even with that scar on his face. The long trailing scar from his temple to his cheek was intimidating at first sight, but when you look at it longer, it's only a scar, nothing more.

If anything, it makes this man before you look more mysterious than he should be.

"I'm from Devon, actually. My friends thought it would be a good idea to have a party here for our 10th-year celebration working at our workplace." You widened your eyes in, letting out a surprised laugh, "Blimey, 3-hour drive for a party?"

Bill shrugged his eyebrows, 'Huh, 3 hours.'

He sipped on his wine and gestured at the bar with his chin, "How long have you been working here... Y/N?" He asked, his eyes lingering on your name tag before coming in contact with your eyes.

You blinked, oh lord give me strength.

The way he said your name was beyond lovely, as if he's saying such poetic words. And the way he looked at you isn't really that much of a help. You felt heat rushing in your cheeks as you turned around to the alcohol collection, not letting this fine man before you see your blush.

"About 3 years already? Got to make money somehow to live," You said nonchalantly, when another customer ordered a drink. You got to it right away fast, wanting to talk more with the mysterious man whose name you didn't even know.

As if reading your thoughts, he said, "I'm William, but my friends and family call me Bill."

You chuckled and throw him a playful look, "Where did Bill come from out of William?" The remark made him laugh, the sides of his eyes crinkled. You smiled in triumph at the successful attempt of making Bill laugh.

"I honestly have no idea," Bill chuckled and inhaled more of the cigarette between his fingers, the nicotine felt less effective by now.

You stood in front of him, with the wooden bar table between you, biting your lip, "And what should I call you? William," You trailed off, feeling the energy between you shifted from light to somehow heavy.

"Or Bill?" You muttered loudly, giving him a slight smirk.

Bill felt it, the energy shift. And for the first time, he didn't mind. "Well," He started, putting the cigarette onto the ash box, killing it instantly. He took the glass wine, swirling it slightly to make the wine well mixed, and right before he sipped the dark liquid, he looked at you, "Surprise me."

You watched him drink the wine with his eyes on you the whole time, and the action made the butterflies in your stomach came alive.

"Y/L/N! No flirting with customers!" The shout from your manager made you flinch in surprise. You looked to the side, your manager looking at you sternly with his hands at his waist.

You smiled mischievously, "But boss, I don't think we're flirting!" You said with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes innocently. You turned to Bill, smiling in a way Bill was reminded of his cheeky twin brothers at home, "Were we flirting, Bill?"

Bill smiled widely with his front teeth on his lower lip, you're something else, Y/N.

"Were we? I can't remember," He chimed in, giving your boss the same innocent smile, making your own smile widen. The boss rolled his eyes and left, leaving you both by yourselves.

A moment of silence before laughter erupted from both of you. "What time does your shift end?" Bill asked as soon as he calmed down, a genuine smile on his lips.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, "At 12," You voiced out, trying so hard to contain your smile. Bill's smile got wider at the sight of your blushed cheeks, "Alright, I'll be here till 12."

"You sure we're not flirting, Bill?" You said playfully. Bill bit his lower lip and looked up at you, "I don't know, Y/N. You tell me,"

"Oh, you're good at this," You breathed out and nodded, impressed by his flirting skills. Bill chuckled and shook his head, "Sometimes. There's just something about you that makes it easier."

The entire two hours were filled with conversations and laughter, some occasionally constantly flirting here and there, but needless to say, Bill was having a great time with you.

You were charming, funny, witty, and absolutely gorgeous in his eyes. He forgot for a moment, that you can see his scar on the side of his face.

Not that you minded it. Bill was everything. He's a gentleman with a beautiful smile and an amazing sense of humor, mysteriously alluring.

By the time the clock starked 12, Bill stood up from his seat and then you realized how tall he was from you. If before he was looking up to you, now it's completely the opposite. Bill had an amused expression over your sudden realization of his height.

"I'll wait for you outside," He said and you nodded with a smile, already tearing off your vest.

The party was long forgotten, some of his friends had already gone home before he even realized it. Once he was outside, he took out another cigarette and snapped his finger, instantly lighting it up. He took a long inhale, warming his system up to fight off the cold air of London. He exhaled and sighed, the cold mist now mixed with the smoke, making it denser than it should be.

Bill then realized he was supposed to be with you later, and a guy with a bad breath is the last impression he wanted you to have of him. And so he reluctantly threw away the barely finished cigarette, crushing it with the bottom of his shoe.

Just then, you came out and walked to him, looking casual with a beanie on top of your head and hair let down from the ponytail before. "Hello, handsome." You said cheekily with a smile.

He smiled at the sight of you, and with his cold hands, he held yours softly. You halted your movement altogether, now looking eye-to-eye to this beautiful man before you. "I couldn't do this to you before because you're working, but," He said softly, and met your knuckles with his lips, kissing it gently.

"Hi."

The blush in your cheeks was prominent, and you felt like a high-school girl all over again, "Hi," You said shyly.

You suddenly felt some sort of courage running through your veins, because without thinking, you grabbed his tie and pulled it towards you, making him closer to you.

"I may have a few shots before coming out here so please don't mind me," You muttered quickly as you pulled him into a kiss. Bill was pleasantly surprised and kissed you back. The makeout turned heated quickly, Bill had to contain himself as he suddenly found a new hunger for your taste.

Whiskey, and smoke.

It was intoxicating. When you pulled away, you were both panting. You later giggled at the sudden courage before, and your laugh being contagious, he started chuckling on his own. Bill was holding your waist tightly, touching as much skin as he could while you had your arms wrapped around his neck.

Never would he thought a few minutes later that he would be running while holding your hand, laughing with each other as you dragged him to your apartment.

Bill had already loosened his tie and tossed his suit around somewhere by the time you're opening the door. He turned you around suddenly from the door and gave you another hungry kiss. You were pressed between the door and him, and you didn't mind.

Reluctantly pulling away giggling, you opened the door sloppily, your mind still hazy by Bill's kiss.

He was a bloody excellent kisser, holy fuck.

The door slammed shut behind you two, and the kissing continued. It was safe to say, Bill Weasley didn't come home that night.

By the time morning came along, you woke up being wrapped around Bill. His naked arms wrapping around your waist and his leg around yours. You smiled and looked up to him, and was surprised at his long red hair.

You chuckled, shaking your head. You trailed kissed from his freckled chest to his neck, making him humming in content. "Good morning, sweetheart," He said groggily. You giggled at his sleepy attempt of kissing your nose.

You reached your hand to caress his long hair and sighed in content, "You know, you could've told me your real hair is ginger."

He hummed sleepily, "Mmm, yeah-wait, what?" He snapped his eyes open and reached for his hair. Indeed, ginger and shoulder length.

He sat up suddenly, looking everywhere but at you, "I-I can explain." He stuttered.

I knew it was a bad idea, he groaned.

He stopped when he saw you looking up to him with amusement, your arm supporting your head, and your hair falling slightly to the side you're leaning on.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" He asked. You smiled, "I know you're a wizard, Bill. Or should I say, Bill Weasley?"

Bill scoffed in surprise, his tense shoulder relaxed, "Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

You sat up, revealing your naked upper body that you had presented to Bill the night before, and kissed him on the cheek, "I figured it wouldn't be fun if I let you know so soon, so I figured I should play along."

Bill was supposed to feel offended, you did lie to him after all. But all he could find in his heart was warmth. He smiled gently, cupping your face and kissing your lips softly.

"You're something else, you know that?" He stifled a laugh as he said it. You joined his laughter and caress his cheek, leaning your forehead together.

"I know."

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #harry potter #william arthur weasley #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x you #george-fabian-weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley fic #bill weasley fluff #weasley

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

the golden boy | jjk

» pairing: phys. ed. teacher!jk x biology teacher!reader » genre: enemies to lovers, smut » summary: the new physical education teacher insulted you the moment you met him, and you’ve given him hell ever since. if only you didn’t think that he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen and that he was so much fun to play with. » word count: 2.5k » warnings: 18+, cursing, switch!jk, dom!reader, jk says something dumb, sexism, reader is a bad bish, jungkook is whipped, declarations of ownership from kook lol, smut (slight noona kink, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling)

» request: @jeonstime said: JUNGKOOK + COCKTAIL PLZ

as part of the bangtanhq drinks and drabbles challenge

“And this is Dr. (Y/l/n), the head of our science department and biology teacher. You’ll be working closely with her to create the Sexual Education curriculum,” Principal Kim introduces you to the newly hired P.E. teacher. “(Y/n), this is Jeon Jungkook.”

You nod at this new arrival, extending your palm towards him. Jungkook is attractive as hell, if you’re being honest with yourself. Your eyes flick over the lean muscle of his body and the wide-eyed beauty of his face. It’s too bad you are swearing off men for the time being after a particularly bad first date last week.

“I thought you would be a dude,” He mumbles after a long pause, looking you over in confusion. Your nostrils flare as you rescind your hand before Jungkook can even move to shake it.

“And why is that?” You fold your arms in front of your chest. You have faced incredulity before from a plethora of men - and women - about your chosen career path. Most women and minority groups in STEM fields have. It is part of the reason why you have forgone the route of lab work like a number of your fellow doctoral graduates in favor of high school education. You want your young students to feel empowered to become epidemiologists and astronauts and brain surgeons no matter their gender, their race, their sexual orientation.

And you want to eradicate the exact kind of reaction that Jungkook is giving you. Your glare is ice cold and absolute as you pin it on him. Kim Namjoon, your principal, is facepalming from beside this new boy and is looking at you with pleading eyes to diffuse the situation. But, fuck that noise.

“I-I don’t know?” Jungkook finally blurts out, running a strong hand through his mess of chocolate brown hair, “I’m sorry, (Y/n).” His cheeks are flushed prettily, and you almost cave. You almost assure this Jungkook that his remark is nothing new. You almost begin to picture tugging him into the hidden closet on the third floor and— You cut off that train of thought.

“That’s Dr. (Y/l/n) to you, Mr. Jeon,” You turn to leave, pausing briefly to look at the duo of men over your shoulder, “Welcome to Bangtan High School.” With that, you stalk down the corridor. Your heels clicking emphatically as you leave the infuriatingly handsome and ignorant new hire in your dust.

You miss the longing sigh and the heart eyes that Jungkook sends after you. You miss Namjoon placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and saying, “You royally fucked up, kid.” And you miss the way Jungkook scrunches his nose and pouts forlornly, “I know…”

The beginning of the school year arrives the following week. On the first day, you make sure to pick an impeccable first day outfit that screams ‘I’m a fucking badass bitch, and I will end sexism as we know it’. Of course, it’s an impossible task for any outfit to achieve, but your knee length black dress and black Louboutin heels come pretty damn close.

When you enter the doors of the high school at 6:30am, you look ready to kill. And when you lay eyes on Jeon Jungkook exiting the teacher’s lounge with a steaming hot mug of coffee looking like a snack, you think you just might. As soon as you start down the hallway towards him, Jungkook looks up at you and subsequently chokes.

You smirk, maybe you wouldn't have to get your hands dirty after all. “Morning, Jeon,” You sashay past him to enter the lounge he just exited. Unfortunately, he follows.

“G-good morning, Dr. (Y/l/n),” Jungkook says softly from your side as you prepare your own cup of caffeinated bliss, “I wanted to apologize for last week.”

You face him, eyebrows raised as you wait for him to continue. He blushes under your undivided attention and mumbles, “I’m really sorry. I realize that I sounded like a complete sexist asshole, and that isn’t me. I hope we can start over?”

God, he’s giving you the most adorable puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. His curls are in complete disarray once again with one falling just so perfectly over his forehead. It’s honestly unfair that he looks this good at this infernal hour. Just for that alone, you let him sweat for a few more minutes as you turn back to finish making your coffee.

Finally, you address him, “Apology accepted.” He smiles widely, his eyes gleaming, and he opens his mouth to say something. You can’t have that. You place a finger over his plush lips and move closer to him, “But let me just say this. If you ever, ever say something like that in front of my kids, I will end you.” You grin wickedly up at him as you try to ignore just how good his lips feel under your finger and how much better they would feel on your—

“Good morning, Jungkook! Good morning, (Y/n)!” Vice Principal Kim Seokjin scurries into the teacher’s lounge somehow looking like he just woke up and stepped off the runway at New York Fashion Week simultaneously. “Happy first day of school!”

You pull your hand away from Jungkook’s mouth, grab your coffee, and head towards the door. “Back at you, Jin. Bye, Jeon,” You kick open the door with your heel and shoot them a small smile on your way out.

You miss the way that Jungkook adjusts himself in his low slung track pants. You miss the way Jin shakes his head amusedly after your departure and tells Jungkook, “That one’s a hurricane wrapped in a deceivingly cute package.” And you miss the way Jungkook nods absentmindedly as he licks his lips, ideas forming in his head…

The first weeks of school always fly by for you with new faces to learn, new courses to prepare, new material to deliver. You love every minute that you spent with your students.

But, you hate every last second that you spend hearing about the amazing new P.E. teacher and how handsome and sweet he is. It seems that everyone, aside from you, is completely whipped for Jungkook. Even your own students bring him up in your classroom, telling you about the new physical fitness regimen he has them on and raving about how cute he is.

Don’t even get you started on how much you despise seeing Jungkook in the hallways, in the teacher’s lounge, in the cafeteria. He seems to be everywhere you go, almost as if he tracks your location. He even pops his head into your classroom during your free period to say a shy, soft ‘hello, Dr. (Y/l/n)’ that sends you into a feral state each time.

Fuck, what is it about him that makes you go insane? One day last week you had even walked past the gym and had stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of a sweaty Jungkook wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. It had been a whole lot of abs and a whole lot more fuel for your fantasies.

It absolutely doesn’t help that you constantly catch him staring at you - your body, your legs, your mouth. You had even overheard him ranting to the media teacher Kim Taehyung about how sexy you are when you ignore him, how he wants you to like him, how he longs to please you.

You are at the absolute end of your tether - especially because you and Jungkook are supposed to begin constructing the Sex Ed. curriculum together soon. Just the thought of discussing anything sexual with the boy gives you way too many dirty ideas. You decide that you might as well just rip the bandaid off so to speak, and so the next time you spot that curly head of his wandering past your classroom after school, you gesture for him to come in with your pointer finger.

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he stumbles into your classroom. “Shut the door, please,” You say, getting up from your desk chair.

“Am I in trouble?” He jokes as he follows your orders. You glare at the tempting expanse of his back, his tapered waist, his tight ass.

And so you cannot resist teasing him. “Hm, do you want to be in trouble with me, Jeon?” You smirk at him as he faces you once again, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“Maybe,” Jungkook mumbles. He fiddles with one of the rings on his fingers, a nervous habit no doubt.

You slowly walk towards him, your hips swaying. Stopping inches away from him, you grab his hand to stop his movements, “You’re a restless little boy, aren’t you?” You flip his palm over and place your hand in his, reveling in the size difference.

“W-what are you doing, Dr. (Y/l/n)?” Jungkook looks at you like he isn’t sure if he should run or kneel at your feet. You hope you can convince him to choose the latter.

You shift closer to him still and bring your mouth to his ear, “I’m playing with you, Jungkook.”

A whine bubbles up from his throat, “Say my name again. Please. I’ll do anything.”

You drop his hand and step away from him. Moving back to your desk, you prop yourself up on it and cross your legs. Your pencil skirt rides up just enough to show the garters of your tights. Jungkook chokes. You grin.

“I know you will, Jeon,” You continue to smile as he scowls at the use of his last name, “I heard what you said to Tae. You want to please me?”

Rather than be embarrassed like you thought, Jungkook swiftly approaches you and sinks to your feet. How divine. He gazes up at you with a mix of lust and hope, “Yes, more than anything, Dr. (Y/l/n).”

You slowly uncross your legs, giving him a glimpse of the lace that lies underneath your skirt. “Call me (y/n).”

His eyes widen further than you thought possible as he nibbles on his lip, “O-okay, (y/n).”

“Good boy,” You purr, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair. Jungkook leans into your touch, sighing.

Hesitantly, he looks up at you, his pupils blown out, “Can I touch you, (y/n)?”

“I suppose,” The words barely pass your lips before his hands are on you. His touch is tentative at first, running his hands slowly up your calves. He surprises you by placing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, and for once you’re mad at yourself for wearing your favorite garter set.

His touch becomes more assured as he moves higher, his fingers digging into your thighs, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher. And before he can move his fingers over your panties, you tug his head back with your hand tangled in his hair.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to touch me there, Jungkook,” You frown, feigning disappointment.

His pout is fierce in response, “But, (y/n), you’re so wet. You smell so good. Please let me taste you. Let me make you come. I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh, “I can just call someone else who I already know will make me come hard.”

Jungkook bites your inner thigh, and you moan before you can stop yourself.

“You’re mine,” He glares up at you, “You’re my scary smart noona. Your orgasms belong to me.”

You push him backwards by placing the sole of your heel on his forehead, “And when was this decided? And why was I not consulted?”

“It was decided as soon as you looked at me,” Jungkook says like that should have been common knowledge, “And I didn’t tell you because I thought you would reject me.”

“And you don’t think I’ll still reject you?” You arch an eyebrow.

“No,” Jungkook grins, his hand coming up to grab your ankle, “I think you like me.” He tugs your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer to him. His gaze flicks between your pussy and your eyes.

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re so infuriating. I can’t understand why I like you, but I do. Despite your terrible first impression, your annoyingly cute ass has gotten my attention.”

Jungkook’s grin is blinding, “So you do like me!”

“Against my better judgement,” You sigh, your lips twitching as you can’t help but stare fondly down at the smiling boy between your legs. “Now, are you going to please me, baby? Or just stare?”

Jungkook lunges forward, hitching your thigh further over his shoulder and pushing your underwear to the side. Barely pausing to breathe, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You hum in pleasure, and Jungkook pauses to grin up at you.

“So responsive, noona,” The honorific rolling off his tongue, “And you taste so delicious. You’re so wet for me—”

You groan, “Jungkook, for the love of god, shut up and make me come.”

Jungkook sends you one last shit-eating grin before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His mouth finally returns to your clit, sucking it between his lips and swirling his tongue around it.

Your hand once again winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy.

The sight of the boy you’ve lusted after and slightly hated for so long being tongue deep in your pussy practically pushes you over the edge already. God, why hadn’t you done this sooner? You think to yourself as Jungkook brings his fingers up to your folds and parts them.

His tongue sinks into you, your hips buck slightly against his face. His other hand comes around to steady you - and to grab your ass. Jungkook’s tongue flicks in and out of you, and you feel the heat building up.

“Jungkook,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, the rings cool to the touch as they brush your walls. You come with a gasp. Jungkook continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm.

He licks up everything you give him, and when you gently push him off you, he licks his fingers clean. “Well?” Jungkook leans back on his heels, “Are you going to need to call anyone else after I made you come like that?”

“That depends,” You laugh, “Are you going to keep making me come like that?”

Jungkook nods, his gaze dead serious as he says, “(Y/n), noona, you’re never getting rid of me after that.”

“Oh my,” You tease, “Whatever did I get myself into?”

And his answering smile is breathtaking.

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut #jjk smut

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

H'okay I gotta bite. From the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers prompt, would you please do #5 with one of our favorite smart asses: Gabriel Cash? I was going to ask for Snake but after seeing 'Guilty as Charged' I *LOVE* how you write him!

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you liked it! And thanks for the request, I enjoyed writing it, though I'm really sorry that it took so long :/

We Make A Good Team.

Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash) x reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun violence

Masterlist

"Sorry, can I just…" A pair of hands suddenly grip my waist and pull me to the side, away from my position by the corner, the familiar voice sending a wave of irritation through me as I hear it.

Stumbling to stand beside the newcomer, I glare at him as he takes my place, drawing a gun from his belt as he presses himself back against the grimy bricks, peeking round the corner.

"Cash, get the hell out of my way!" I hiss at him, grabbing his arm to pull him back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Gabe turns briefly to look at me, his hair whipping into my face from our accidental proximity.

"Come on, Cash. You know playing deaf doesn't suit you." I retort, still pulling at his arm.

"Really? Because it sure as hell looks like you're enjoying it." He sends a pointed glance at my hand on his sleeve, "See, you're already trying to take my clothes off."

Snapping my hand back to my body, I make a sound of disgust, blushing angrily as he smirks at me and turns back around, peering round into the darkened street.

With an angry scowl, I turn back to face the rest of the team of armed police behind us, locating my captain quickly.

"Why the hell is he on my case, sir?!" I growl, gesturing back to the blonde beside me.

"Hey, hey! "He" has a name, you know." Gabe interrupts, "And who said it's your case? Last I checked, there's a whole crowd here."

"What, you think you should go in solo?" I scoff, barely looking at him, "I've been on this case for a week now, so it's mine. I call the shots, so fuck off!"

"Actually, (Y/n), I called him in." My captain says from the back of the group, sending me a stern look as I set my jaw.

"But why?"

"Because, babe, there's no way you're gonna pull this off without me." Gabe smirks, before he suddenly steps out from behind the corner, yelling out to the criminals I'm trying to convict.

"Cash! You fucker!" I bite out after him, following swiftly with my gun raised, knowing I'll probably need it now.

Falling in beside him, I take up a position to his right, inadvertently reverting back to old habits I built up years before, weapon aimed slightly to the side as I keep half an eye on the surroundings as well as the scene before us. Noticing me there, Gabe shoots me a quick grin, winking as he sees me realise what I've done, looking back as I make a face of disgust and move into a different place, scowling to myself. Observing the scene before me, I change my aim as I figure out that there's no way we'll be snuck up on - the gangs (all three) are there in their entirety. Swallowing, I signal to the squad behind us to move in, thankful for the forethought of bringing in more help from the armed cops. It's not long before they're all in position, both the ones behind us and on the roofs around, as well as those at the other end of the alley.

"Put your weapons down, you're surrounded! Nobody needs to get hurt, but if you don't do what I say, someone will!" I call out to the gathered gang members before Cash can get a word in, eyeing them all warily.

Nothing happens, the whole alley remaining still and silent, almost eerie as we stare at each other, guns aimed at one another. It takes a full minute for the tension to be broken.

"You think she's joking? Listen, guys, I've seen her angry and trust me, it's not pretty. Just drop the weapons, and none of us have to see her go batshit! Everyone wins!" Gabe finally shouts to the gangs, nodding towards me with a knowing look.

Annoyed, I glance at him, glaring as he winks at me again, finding his relaxed approach infuriating. Across from us, the gang members look at each other in confusion, as if debating whether or not to follow our instruction

"Look, guys, it's really not that hard. Just do what she says!" Cash tries again, cocking his gun ominously.

"Drop your weapons!" I follow up, adjusting my grip on my gun, "Drop them and step back, hands in the air!"

As the threat of the situation finally sinks in for them all, many of the gangsters gradually place their weapons down, surrendering themselves even as their compatriots curse them out, pointing their guns at them. It doesn't take long, however, for them all to see sense, especially as the armed police move forwards to start making the arrests.

With a triumphant grin, Gabe turns to me and holsters his gun, lifting an eyebrow at my vexed expression as he goes to move past.

"Way to go, team!" He comments as he steps past me, bumping my shoulder with his.

Flipping him off, I go to help the others, ignoring him.

It's already half ten by the time I finish writing the report, my hand aching from the continuous movement - my captain has always preferred handwritten files for some reason, so I often spend hours writing up days and days worth of case notes. Even so, as I walk over to the door to the captain's office, I can't help but feel a little satisfied by the completed wad of paper, holding it carefully so that it doesn't get damaged at all.

Naturally, the captain isn't in at this time of night, so I push open his door and go to the desk, dropping the file by his keyboard with a final thunk, glad to be rid of the burden. Without further ado, I leave the room, heading to my office again to grab my things, only to realise I have yet to sort out the conviction forms for the gangsters we picked up earlier, a job that will take me a good hour or so alone. Sighing, I take up the pile of papers, shuffling through them with a tired carelessness, moving back out into the corridor with them.

This time, I make my way over to the communal area, intending to make myself a cup of coffee so that I'll at least be able to stay awake whilst I fill these in. As I enter though, I fail to notice the figure sat in the corner.

"Babe, it is way too late to be drinking coffee. You should try a beer." Gabe's voice sounds almost as tired as I feel, though I can't quite see why, as it's highly unlikely that he's done any paperwork in the last four hours.

His words startle me, making me jump and drop my cup to the counter top with a loud clatter.

"Fuck, Cash! You scared the shit outta me!" I curse, pressing a hand to my chest as I catch my breath.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Thought you'd seen me." The detective apologises, lifting his beer up to his lips.

"S'fine." I mumble, turning to the fridge in search of a drink, "I need something stronger than a beer."

"Stronger?" Gabe lifts an eyebrow.

"Yeah. But I'll take a beer...I ran out of scotch a few days ago."

"Scotch? You take that shit to work?" His other eyebrow joins the first.

Shooting him a tired smirk, I grab a beer and join him at the table, dropping the papers down in a messy heap.

"I usually do." I reply, cracking the beer open on the edge of the table, "As I said, I drank it all."

"Damn, girl, didn't realise work got you so stressed." He remarks, toasting me as I lift my drink to my lips.

I shrug, taking out my pen to fill some of the forms in, writing in the date, charges and signing the bottom.

"Why don't you just leave that for someone else to do? Or wait until tomorrow? They're not going anywhere." Gabe asks after a while, having watched me in silence, the longest we've gone without arguing in a long time.

"Because," I sigh, glancing up at him, "I actually stick to my deadlines. This needs to be done by tomorrow."

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as he reaches across, pinching the end of my pen.

"The captain isn't going to expect you to have written a whole report, plus thirty of those fuckers. You're not a machine, you need a rest." The blonde says to me, clear blue eyes fixed on mine, genuine care written into his expression.

"No, Cash-" I try to argue, only to be cut off as he takes my pen from me and stands from the table, coming round to my side.

"Yes, you're going to listen to me for once." He orders, almost sternly, helping me from my chair as I protest a little, unused to the friendly way he's behaving around me.

Shushing me, Gabe leads me over to the sofa at the far end of the break room, sitting me down before taking his place at the other side, which isn't so far given the small stature of the piece of furniture. Our legs are touching from our close proximity, but I'm too tired to do anything about it, simply enjoying his company instead, something I never thought would happen again.

"You know, (Y/n), we still make a good team." He murmurs after a minute or so, drinking from his beer as I turn my head to look at him.

"I guess so." I agree, thinking back to the arrest earlier today, as well as a few earlier on in our careers. Back when things were easier.

Gabe is clearly thinking the same as he sighs and turns to look at me, the two of us making eye contact properly for the first time in years, unspoken words passing between us as we gaze at each other.

"I still wish things hadn't changed." He sighs wistfully, glancing away again, hand clenching the bottle.

"Me too, honestly." I reply quietly, finishing my beer quickly as I settle back into the sofa, feeling sleep tugging at my mind, "It was nice having a partner."

"Yeah it was. Work gets lonely now."

"Tell me about it."

All is silent between us for a few more minutes, during which time I start to feel my eyelids drooping closed, my body relaxing comfortably into the soft cushions.

"Maybe one day we could work together again." He proposes, placing our bottles on the floor by our feet.

"Yeah, that would be nice." I agree, being totally genuine as I try my hardest not to drift off, "I miss you, Ca- Gabe."

At the sound of his name, Gabe looks over at me again, evidently noticing me half-asleep on the couch beside him. It takes him a moment, but it's not too long before I feel a lair of arms wrap around me. Eyes opening, I give him a questioning look as he pulls me closer to him, maneuvering us so he's got me cradled against his chest, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. If I wasn't so tired, I would've pushed him away, but as it is, it feels nice being held in his strong grip, his chest firm under my cheek and palms as I give in and nuzzle closer to him. His scent floods my nostrils, something in the mixture of old fast-food and hastily-used cologne comforting me as I feel a soft warmth spread through me.

Too tired to argue, I relax into him, allowing him to lull me to sleep with gentle patterns on my back, his hair falling into my face as he leans forwards over me. Just before I drop off entirely, I feel him press a soft kiss to my forehead, his arms tightening around me as he hugs me to his body, muscles loosening underneath me.

I really have missed him.

#tango and Cash #Gabe Cash #Gabe Cash x reader #Gabe Cash imagine #tango and Cash imagine #Kurt Russell #break writes

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guessimwritingficsagain · 3 years

Text

To be seen, part One (Frankie Morales x reader)

Summary : Usually, you’d be babysitting your friend Jessie’s son but you had to come into work. Your colleagues are really excited because “the boys” are here, so you get the chance, for the first time, to see what the fuss is about. You probably need to get laid.

Author’s note : This is gonna be a four or five chapter story, not clear on that yet. Frankie isn’t here much but the endgame is Frankie x Reader. This chapter is really here to set up the reader’s relationships and workplace.

Warning : Harassment

____________________________________________________________

Chapter One :

« Yup, they’re here, » confirmed Anna, with a wink in Jessie’s direction, before she closed the kitchen’s door and went back to wait on the patrons. You were confused for a moment, but Jessie was jumping up and down in the small space, almost knocking over a bunch of plates she had been cleaning just before. She was vibrating with excitement.

« You’re finally going to see what the fuss is about ! » She all but screamed. It dawned on you, then.

The boys.

So, here’s the story : once in a while, always on a Saturday, four dudes come in, sit down, drink a few beers, chat for a bit and call it a night. There used to be five, apparently, but one of them must have been kicked out of the group, according to Jessie. One of them is usually a little banged up - always the same. One of them always makes a point to flirt with whoever is waiting on them but it’s harmless. They tip well. Nothing special, right ? Except apparently, they’re hot. And Jessie juggles with this job and the kid, and she’s on her own, has been for a while now, so it is a big deal. Apparently.

You’d been a bit worried with all the fuss she made about those guys, but then you remembered that her last date had been months ago and had ended with her coming home in tears, self-depreciating bullshit spilling out of her mouth, about her life, her failed mariage, the state of her car and the way she drank beer instead of wine and she shouldn’t because wine is more refined.

So. You’d been worried. But you figured that nothing seemed wrong with those men, and that a little fantasy was harmless and sometimes needed.

You’d never had first-hand experience with the four guys, though. You worked every other Saturday night but Jessie and you had an agreement with your boss, so you could babysit her kid the Saturday she worked since she couldn’t afford to pay someone. This Saturday, though, you had to make do and find someone to mind Clara because Phil, the cook, was sick and someone needed to replace him.

You couldn’t cook for shit and Jessie could, so she was in the kitchen, you tended the bar and Anna waited on the patrons. You let her friend get a well-deserved sneak-peek at the table before you made your way back to the counter, making an off-hand, harmless remark that she needed to get laid as you walked through the door. Once you got behind the counter, you took a deep breath and looked around.

Time to see what all the fuss is about.

The place wasn’t overly crowded for a Saturday evening, but it was still early. You spotted the table pretty easily. It was one a bit away from the others, isolated, separated from most of the room by the pool but far enough from it not to be disturbed by the players and-

Oh.

Maybe you needed to get laid, too.

———

You were staring. You knew you were staring. Hard. But then again who on earth allowed those four men to look that good. Men should never look that good. Men that looked that good were trouble. And three of them definitely looked like trouble. It was written in the way they sat, like they were at home and not in a public space with other people, legs spread wide, radiating confidence. The last one, the one with a cap on his head, was on the shyer side, but still-

Trouble.

Here’s the thing. That dating thing, that wasn’t on your mind. You gave it a shot a few years back. You’d met her in college, and when you’d both ended up with an art history degree that proved to be useless, you’d moved in together, and you’d tried to open a bookshop that crashed and burned in less that two years, and all of your savings with it. Something had cracked in your relationship, then, and you’d both tried to fix it because you’d had a good thing. The break-up hadn’t been ugly, but mending both your broken hearts had taken time. You still called each other from time to time, true to your last promise : when things get easier, let’s not be strangers. It had been her - Linda - who had said it. You hadn’t had the heart, then. Now, five years later, you were glad she had.

Five years later, you found yourself back in your home state, bartending on a Saturday night, that art history degree still useless but no longer leaving a sour taste in your mouth, a bitter sense of waste of time and money. You hadn’t had a date in three years - he had been nice, really pretty, you’d dated for a while but he’d wanted to become a big Wall Street boy and you just weren’t into that. It might be time to reconsider getting laid if you couldn’t look at a bunch of hot dudes without your brain turning to jelly, though.

Somebody cleared of throat right in front of you and you snapped out of it, apologizing before getting the man’s order, good that his presence would prevent you from drifting away too much. Then the rush came, and you forgot about the table for a while.

———

When Anna came back to give you a bunch of orders, she did so with an eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. You knew she wanted your feedback on that table, but you didn’t want to agree with Jessie and her, so you shrugged in a way you hoped looked casual and unaffected. She saw right through your bullshit.

« Fine », you whispered. « They’re hot. Hot. »

The patron at the barstool turned his head towards you and you felt your face burn. So much for whispering. Anna only laughed, head tilted back, her blonde hair waving as laughter shook her body. She was 25, beautiful in a traditional way. She was genuinely nice, and always saw the good in people. She was to this world what Jane was to Pride and Prejudice.

Which is why, when the man sitting on the barstool leaned and said to her :

« You’re a pretty one, too. »

She just smiled and thanked him. Of course, he had to take that as an invitation. This could have been the beginning of a very beautiful story if not for the fact that he was old enough to be his father, knew it, didn’t care, and that this beer obviously wasn’t his first one. You hadn’t noticed when he first sat down but now that he had leaned in, you could smell it. He reeked of alcohol.

« Wanna grab a drink sometimes ? See where that leads us ? »

Anna politely declined, and made to leave, but he grabbed her arm. You could tell it wasn’t meant to hurt her, just to hold her back, to prevent her from leaving, but you felt yourself tense.

« Sir, » you said in a tone you hoped sounded firm and steady, « I’m going to ask you to leave my colleague alone. »

He turned his head towards you and Anna took the opportunity to free herself from his grasp. She looked at you a second, a silent question (are you gonna be okay ?), and seemingly satisfied by your slight nod, she took off.

« You’re not bad yourself, you know. »

Steeling yourself, you turned to the patron.

« This is inappropriate and I’m not interested, Sir. »

But the man was relentless. When you said no for the third time he started muttering to himself, something about women all being bitches to him. You were getting really tense, and looked around to see where Anna was. She was at the boys’ table, watching you. Actually, the whole table was watching you as one of the men - the beat up one, your mind registered - was walking your way with purpose.

— ——

You were staring again, you realized. The man had taken a barstool too, right in front of you, and was waiting for you to say something. Probably a sentence. A coherent sentence.

« Hi, what can I get you ? »

Nice. One word at a time. You could do it.

« Nothing, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Benny. »

He offered his hand. You took it. He was all sharp angles and there was something wild and dark in his eyes, but he had a nice, warm smile. Your hand seemed tiny in his. After a beat, you told him your own name. He gestured behind him, towards the table, still looking your way.

« My pals over there and I were wondering if you were new. Never saw you around. »

« I’m not. I guess I’m not around when you guys are. »

« That’s what your colleague said. »

Bullshit.

He knew you saw right through it, and you tried to convey the fact that you appreciated the gesture without saying anything too obvious. There was no doubt that Benny would have no problem getting physical with the other guy at the counter if needed. But the man in question was standing awfully still, like he got the same vibe off of Benny you did. He’d stopped muttering and was looking very intently at his bottle. Benny kept going, and you soon saw what he was doing. He slightly turned and pointed towards his friends. You noticed Anna had gone back to work.

« See the blonde guy over there ? That’s my idiot of a brother, Will. Guy with the cap is Frankie. Last one is Pope. »

You raised your eyebrows at that.

« Pope ? »

« Sorry, force of habit. His name is Santiago. Santi for short. We used to serve, Pope was his call sign, and I guess it stuck. »

He shrugged, keeping the conversation light, but the mention of four ex-military casually sitting there and checking on you was enough for the other patron. He got up and left without a word. Your sigh of relief didn’t go unnoticed.

« Santi saw something was off a while back with that guy, when he grabbed your colleague … »

« Anna », you automatically corrected.

« When he grabbed Anna, » Benni obliged. « She confirmed when she came to take our orders. »

« Thank you. »

You were used to dealing with that kind of stuff, but it was nice to have back-up, especially when the usual one wasn’t there. Normally, you’d go to Phil in the kitchen, but today, Jessie wouldn’t have been much of a match against a drunk guy would wanted some. Jessie, who was standing, you saw, right outside the kitchen door, gaping at you.

« I never got your order », you stated, turning your attention back to Benny.

He gave it again and you smiled.

« It’s on the house. »

———

« So his name is Benny. The blonde one, Will. That’s his brother. Then Santiago and Frankie. »

« Yes but which one is Santiago and which one is Frankie ? » all but whined Jessie.

You were closing the place. Anna wasn’t saying anything but you could tell she was listening intently.

« A bit too old for you, aren’t they ? » You quipped.

She just laughed.

« No harm in looking. »

She was right. No harm. Meanwhile Jessie, arms waiving all around, complained :

« How come I tried to get their attention for weeks and something happens the first time you see them ? »

« Yeah, it was a real pleasure to get harassed. I made sure it happened for the attention. All part of a very good plan. »

« Oh come on, » she shoved you playfully « you know what I mean. »

The parking lot was empty. The cool air around you was quiet except for the occasional sound of a car going down the street nearby. The three of you fell silent, walking to Anna’s car. You kept silent during the drive, too, exhaustion settling in your bones. You knew you were lucky : tomorrow was your day off. Neither Anna nor Jessie had that chance. You’d be sleeping on Jessie’s couch tonight, just so you could babysit Clara. Your foggy brain betrayed you, then, and a bad thought came to you like a stab in the back :

When was the last time you saw a movie ? Went to an exhibit ?

You buried it, like you did every time you reminded yourself you were not where you thought you’d be at your age. When Anna pulled over in front of Jessie’s house, you thanked her and waited, silent again, as Jessie thanked her babysitter, winced as she paid her - you knew that was not something she could afford - and went to check on her sleeping girl. You were making yourself at home, preparing the couch for the night, thoughts of Benny and other hot dudes, ex-military guys entirely forgotten when you heard, soft and broken :

« I know it’s silly. This whole thing. I just … I wish someone would look at me, you know. »

Jessie was standing in her living room, lost and desperate. You stopped, right then. The bags under her eyes were dark. She wasn’t going to cry, you knew that. The way she spoke, with finality, like she was convinced no one would look at her ever again, made your exhausted body tremble with anger. You closed the space between the two of you and held her for a while.

Later, as you were plugging your phone, you saw a text from Linda.

Hey, just checking on you. Everything good, these days ? Saw that French movie you told me about. It’s great ! Seen it yet ? I know you were excited. Don’t be a stranger ;)

You thought back on Jessie’s words. Somebody, at some point, had looked at you. Had seen you for who you were and had embraced every one of your qualities and your flaws. You didn’t miss it. It didn’t hurt anymore. But you remembered how beautiful it had been. Jessie’s marriage was never like that, from what you could tell. If you picked up the phone right now and called Linda, she would be there for you. If Jessie picked up the phone, all she’d get would be a reminder that her ex-husband had changed his number and couldn’t be reached in any way.

You were lucky, you realized with a sharp sense of guilt.

You were lucky that you’d had that, with Linda. And you were even luckier that you didn’t need anyone to look at you. You didn’t need anyone to see you for who you were.

You didn’t.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader #triple frontier

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silver-renjun · 3 years

Text

Cafe 7 Dream: Jaemin

Word Count: 2, 443

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, stabbing

Read the prologue before reading this!

You headed into you 8 am class late as usual. After pulling out your notebook from your bag, you threw yourself down on the desk.

“Busy night, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You and Jaemin didn’t really talk that much at all. At the cafe, Jaemin was always in his own world, and in class he just stared at the board, though you doubted he actually remembered anything from the lectures. It was strange that Jaemin started a conversation with you, but it was also strange that you were resting on the desk. No matter how exhausted you were, you took notes, albeit sloppy.

“I had 3 essays to write. Two of which I didn’t even know existed until Haechan texted me for my work,” you replied.

“You should be more responsible, y/n. I need someone reliable to cheat off of,” Haechan said. You rolled your eyes at his reply and groaned. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

“You should just rest, y/n. I’ll take notes for you and we can review them after class today,” Jaemin said. He smiled at you, but you were fast asleep.

After class, Jaemin shaked your shoulder to wake you up.

“y/n! y/n! Everyone already left the class. It’s time to go,” Jaemin whispered in your ear.

“Where are the other guys?” you asked with a breathy voice.

“They’re at the cafe already. I’m sure they’ll be fine without us. Let’s go to the library.”

Jaemin helped you up your seat and packed your books in you bag. He even offered to carry it for you, but you declined. Jaemin held your hand as the two of you walked over to the library. He was still worried about how tired you were and didn’t want you to fall.

The library was filled with students trying to study. Jaemin led you to a secluded corner in the back.

You dropped your bag down and asked, “are you sure they’ll manage without us in the cafe?”

“You’re the one who should be drinking an americano, not the one making it.” Jaemin smiled at you and reached out for your hand. “Don’t worry about the cafe right now.”

Jaemin lectured the content of the class to you. He was a natural at explaining everything. Even when you had a question about the topic, Jaemin was able to answer them with ease. As you copied down your notes, you were surprised to find yourself understanding the content better when Jaemin was teaching you.

At the end of the session you said, “You take such good notes! And remember everything from class too! I’m impressed. We should totally do this more often.”

“Well I still have to work at the cafe to pay my tuition, but I’ll definitely help you out, y/n.”

“Yeah, working at the cafe is my destresser. I wouldn’t want to give that up,” you chuckled. “Maybe you could come over to my place after work and we can study then.”

The next day, you were late to class once again. You rushed over to your seat, but this time you didn’t pull out your books. You knew Jaemin had you covered, so you plopped your head down on the desk for some rest.

“y/n, I need you to start taking this class seriously,” Haechan said. “I need to pass, you know.”

You knew that replying to Haechan was just provoke him into arguing with you, so let his comment slide.

“You’re super late this time, y/n. I was almost certain that Renjun’s vision about your death had finally happened,” Jisung said.

Jisung’s remark was just too strange to ignore. Your head shot up and you gave Jisung a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell does that mean?”

A look of realization took over Jisung’s face before he looked down at the floor. “Sorry about that guys,” he whispered.

The other boys all exchanged uncomfortable glances as if they were trying to figure out who would explain what had been said about you. Finally, Jaemin broke the silence.

“We can talk at the cafe.” The boys had slightly less uncomfortable looks on their faces, but they still appeared to be worried about something. You decided to not stress over it. Your priority was catching up on your sleep.

After class, you and the dreamies headed out to the cafe and started preparing before customers arrived.

You were wiping down tables when you asked, “so is anyone going to explain to me what happened this morning?” You knew you were going to be working with Jaemin, and that boy was like a rock when got to work. This was your only opportunity to get answers.

“Look, you’re not going to believe us at all,” Mark started.

“We’ve got magic powers,” Haechan said.

“You see y/n, Jisung’s a wizard. He makes love potions so people will fall in love with our cafe,” Jaemin explained. While he was talking, Jisung pulled out a pink liquid from under the counter and waved it at you. You had no energy to question them so you just let Jaemin continue.

“And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. Do a little trick for us Jeno,” Jaemin said. Jeno formed a ball of water in his hand and shifted it into different shapes.

“What the-” was all you could muster up. “That water just came out of thin air! And you’re controlling it!”

“Like I was saying, y/n, it’s all magic.” Jaemin smiled at the look of wonder on your face. “Next up we have Renjun. Care to explain yourself Renjun?”

Renjun groaned before saying, “I’m an oracle. I see the future. And your future has an attack in it. I didn’t see you die like Jisung said, but since you’re a human, you’re probably going to-”

“Alright that’s enough,” Jaemin said, cutting Renjun off before he could tell you more about your fate. You were so amazed by Jeno’s abilites that you weren’t even fazed by what Renjun had said.

“What about you Jaemin?” you said with a smile.

“I’m human and so is Mark. We know our way around magic pretty well though,” Jaemin said with a self-satisfied grin.

“And Chenle and Haechan?” you asked, eager to learn more.

“None of your business,” Chenle replied harshly. Chenle’s tone snapped you out of your amazement and made you serious about your work again. Jaemin, like usual, didn’t talk much during his shift, so you would have to wait until the cafe was closed to get more answers.

“Hey Jaemin,” you said as you were heading out the cafe. “Does tonight work for you?”

The boys all looked at each other with wide eyes. They had no idea about your study plans with Jaemin.

“Any night works for me,” Jaemin replied as he followed you out the cafe. You could hear the giggles of the boys even when you were standing outside. Jaemin looked at you with an embarrassed smile before holding your hand and following you home.

At your apartment, Jaemin got to lecturing you once again. He made sure you understood every topic covered in class in full detail. You were still amazed by how good of a teacher Jaemin turned out to be.

After he finished talked Jaemin said, “well that’s everything we learned today. Got any questions, y/n?”

“About the coursework, no. About magic, yes.”

“Magic happens to be my strong suit, so ask away,” he replied with a smile.

“Well Chenle and Haechan didn’t really explain their powers. Do you know what they are?”

“Nope,” Jaemin said, shaking his head. “Chenle’s family is pretty influential in the magic world, so revealing their powers is kind of a security risk for them. Whatever Chenle does, I bet he’s pretty strong at it though.” Jaemin paused for a second. “As for Haechan, he hasn’t really gotten his powers yet. He’s kind of touchy about it since most people get their powers by this age.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you had no idea how it all worked.

“So what about you Jaemin?” you said in playful tone as you poked his shoulder.

“What about me?” Jaemin replied, mimicking your voice and poking you back.

“What’s your relation with magic?” you said with a smile.

Jaemin’s face became serious. He took a minute to think before replying to you.

“It’s a family thing,” was all he said. You decided to not press him any further about magic.

“You know, Jaemin, it’s really not that late. If you’re down, you could stay and watch some Netflix. I’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge too.”

“That’s a great idea! I know so many good dramas that are on Netflix!”

You microwaved a few slices of pizza while Jaemin picked out a show to watch on Netflix. It turned out, alongside having a coffee obsession, Jaemin was also obsessed with period dramas. He talked nonstop about the characters and kept on playing episode after episode. It wasn’t until you two had finished the first season at 1 am did Jaemin say, “it might be getting a little late now.”

He looked over to you for a response, but you had already passed out on the sofa. Jaemin stared at your sleeping figure and admired your beauty.

“Since you’re sleeping I might as well tell you this now. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the confidence to tell you this when you’re awake. I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

Jaemin sighed and went to sleep on your floor. Unknown to him, you had actually been listening the entire time.

It became a habit for you and Jaemin to study at your place after work. Jaemin would lecture you for a while, and then you would order delivery food to thank him for helping you. After watching Netflix, Jaemin would sometimes even sleep over at your place.

One night, you and Jaemin were cuddling on the sofa while watching a drama. Jaemin looked over a you and said, “There’s some things I should tell you, y/n.”

You smiled, expecting Jaemin to confess to you. What you heard was not a confession of love.

“You wanted to know about my connection with magic, so here it is. My mom used to sell plants, mushrooms, stuff you would use in potions. I would go foraging with her in the forest so we could find things to sell. Our customers were kind to us, they would even give us part of the potions they made. One day, this fire demon came into the store and gave my mother a potion to drink. She collapsed on the floor. The fire demon killed her and used her blood for a sacrifice.”

Jaemin began to cry as he thought about what had happened to his mother. You pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed his head. You felt sorry for Jaemin, who had to live his life in so much pain.

After a few more study sessions, Jaemin finally pulled himself together and asked you out.

“I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

“That’s the same thing you said when I was sleeping. You’re so cute,” you said, kissing him on the forehead.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes and said, “wait you heard that? You knew I liked you and you didn’t even say anything?”

You laughed at Jaemin before turning on his favorite show and cuddling with him.

The next day at the cafe, you were supposed to be working with Jisung, but he had gotten sick. You and Haechan were taking over for him.

“Hey y/n, you’ve never seen the potions room before, right?” Haechan said. You nodded in reply. “It’s crazy in there. You totally have to check it out.”

You followed Haechan into the back of the cafe where all the potions were. You were amazed at the amount of potions there was in the back room. Haechan grabbed a vial off a rack and handed it to you.

“You should try this one y/n! It’ll make you feel so energized!” Haechan said.

You opened the vial and drunk all of the strange liquid inside. Unlike what Haechan had said, you began to feel sleepy and collapsed on the floor. When you looked at Haechan for help, you noticed that he had a knife in his hand.

“Be good for me and don’t make any noise, okay?” Haechan said before slashing your skin with the knife. You couldn’t help but cry with all the pain you were feeling. You slowly became more tired until you passed out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. Jaemin was standing beside you and held onto your hand.

“Oh my gosh! y/n, baby, you’re alive!” Jaemin said before tearing up.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Haechan poisoned you. He cut you for your blood. He used it for a ritual to summon his powers. He had already transformed before we could even help you. Haechan’s a fire demon.”

You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to do. The whole situation was just like what had happened to his mother. You and Jaemin were both thinking the same thing, but neither of you wanted to say it.

A few days later, you were discharged from the hospital. Although you felt fine after your rest, Jaemin was the one who was truly hurting. Jaemin stopped going to class and the cafe because of Haechan. He just stayed at your apartment.

“Jaemin, you need to forgive him. I’m not hurt. I’m completely fine!” you argued.

“I can’t forgive him! That bastard nearly killed you!” Jaemin yelled at you.

“Whether you like it or not, you’ve got to start living like a normal person again! You can’t just run away from your problems!”

Jaemin began to laugh.

“You’re right, y/n. I’m going to make that scumbag pay for what he did.”

Select another route

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Text

A Hand in the Matter

Chapter 11: All Your Friends in One Place

Tina was grinning at him over her beer glass, “So this new boyfriend of yours. When will Chris and I get to meet him?” Gavin groaned. They’d had this discussion at least a dozen times by now. Or at least it felt that way, “Tina, we’ve been over this. Richard isn’t my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” “Two things with that Gav.” Chris cut in, “Tina didn’t sat his name, and two, you spend all of your free time with this guy.” “He’s helping me with psychology. Midterms are coming up and they’re going to kick my ass.” Gavin took a drink from his beer, “Besides I doubt if he was interested in anyone at all that I would even be on that list.” Tina rolled her eyes, “Alright, gay crisis aside; what I meant is that we would like to meet him Gavin.” “Exactly.” Chris agreed, “He seems like a nice guy. We won’t scare him off.” Gavin let out a dry laugh, “You might not Chris, but Tina would send him away with his tail between his legs.” “I will be on my best behavior.” Tina pleaded and frowned when Gavin raised an eyebrow, “I cross my heart.” “Have a little faith.” Chris pushed, “We’re your friends after all.” Gavin gave a defeated sigh, “Fine, but we’re meeting at the cafe if I can even get him to agree. The bar would give him a panic attack.”

Tina whooped loud enough to turn a few heads despite the music and other conversations happening in the bar. Gavin and Chris both stared at her until she composed herself. This was exactly why Gavin was hesitating. As much as he loved his friends, they could be a bit much at times. “Does he know about Elijah?” Tina asked, “Does Elijah know about him?” “No to the first, yes to the second.” Gavin said flatly in hopes to avoid having this conversation before it turned into a game of twenty questions. “Teens, that’s enough.” Chris said, once again coming to Gavin’s rescue. That particular conversation died down and they made small talk until last call. They left their bar and went their separate ways with plans to do this again once Gavin’s midterms were over. Tina made Gavin promise to talk to Richard about meeting them, and with Chris as his witness he gave in. There was no getting out of this. He supposed he could see if he could convince Richard to wait until midterms were over or even after finals had ended to meet them. Assuming he wanted to meet them at all. Gavin got into his cab with the plan to at least approach Richard about it tomorrow while they were studying. He could possibly bribe Richard to say no with coffee. The last thing he needed was all three of them badgering him about his health. He and his bad habits wouldn’t survive.

Morning came with a slight hangover, but that’s what he got for coming home and immediately going to bed instead of having something to eat or something to drink before hand. He could still study, he just needed to take something for the headache. He rolled over to check the time, he had about two hours before he needed to leave. He got out of bed to get ready. After he showered and got dressed he made toast and filled a glass with water. He took the pain pills and chased them with his small breakfast. When that was done he checked his bag to make sure he had everything he needed. He fed Franklyn and checked his phone for the time and found two new messages from Richard.

Tall Phcker from Psych: The cafe is closed for a few days because a pipe broke. Tall Phcker from Psych: Is there another place where we could meet? Gavin: There’s a place near me called Pawsome Coffee. Its a cat cafe if that’s okay. Tall Phcker from Psych: That works. Can you send me the address? Gavin: Sure!

He wouldn’t admit to having to google it if he was asked, but as soon as he found the address he sent it to Richard. Gavin had been wanting to show Richard this place for a while and now he had the perfect excuse to. He was pretty sure Richard was going to love it. There was only the matter of not getting distracted by the cats.

As it turned out, getting distracted by the cats was the last thing that Gavin needed to worry about. Once they had ordered their drinks and sat down Richard was buried in them. A short haired white cat settled across his shoulders, a black one with longer hair settled into his lap, and two more; one grey and the other a red-orange; hopped up onto the table. The grey one pawed at his arm to try and get his attention. Gavin couldn’t help but chuckle as he came back with their drinks. “Well aren’t you Mister Popular.” He joked as he set their drinks on the table. He leaned over to grab what they would need once his hands were free, “Normally it takes a few visits for them to warm up to people.” ‘I Not Do Anything Special.’ Richard signed before he reached out to pet the grey cat. “I think you just have that effect on cats and some people.” Gavin remarked as he set the textbooks down on the table, “Are you even going to be able to study like that?” ‘Yes.’ He replied, ‘S-I-L-A-S Worse.’ Gavin laughed, he supposed that was true. Silas was quite the character from what he had been told, “There is that I suppose.” ‘Will You?’ Richard asked. “Yeah.” Gavin answered as he settled in, “I used to study here all the time before I adopted Franklyn. She doesn’t like it too much when I come home smelling like other cats.”

‘Dirty Cheater.’ Richard signed with a straight face and Gavin inhaled his coffee and started coughing. “God damnit Richard.” Gavin wheezed when he caught his breath enough to speak again, “You can’t just say things like that when a guy is drinking his coffee. You could have killed me.” Richard only rolled his eyes at Gavin’s dramatic antics as they settled in to study. Gavin asked questions when he had them, and if Richard couldn’t answer them he pointed Gavin to the part of the book where he could find what he was looking for. It was nice. They managed to study for a few hours before Richard gave in and began petting the cats that had elected him as their new tower. Gavin figured they were probably done for the day. He was out of distractions. “Hey, so I have a question.” Gavin started. He only continued when Richard was looking at him, “Chris and Tina were wondering if they could meet you. Apparently I talk about you a lot and they’re curious. Obviously if you don’t want to, just say so and I’ll let them know.” ‘Not Today.’ Richard said and Gavin nodded, ‘This Weekend Maybe? If You Not Busy?’ Gavin wanted to groan. Of course Richard would want to get it done as soon as possible, “How does Saturday sound? That’s Chris’s day off.” ‘Saturday Works.’ Richard agreed, ‘Can We Meet Here? Hand Brewed Hope Not Open.’

They spent a little while longer at the cafe talking and making plans for Saturday. Gavin him told him a little bit about Chris and Tina so he would know what he was getting into. He seemed excited which helped Gavin relax some. They parted ways in the early afternoon because they both had other classes to study for. The plan was to meet at Pawsome on Saturday around noon. Gavin messaged Chris and Tina on the walk back to his apartment.

Oh No! Its the Cops: Gavin: Pawsome Coffee Saturday at noon. Gavin: You’re lucky I love you guys. Pocket Police: The cat cafe from high school? Talk about nostalgia. I’ll have to pack allergy pills. In Chris We Trust: Cool. See you then Gavin: Don’t forget that you promised to behave Tina Pocket Police: Fine Pocket Police: You’re not any fun Gavin: I am plenty of fun under the right circumstances Pocket Police: No thanks, I’m gay Gavin: You are the actual worst Pocket Police: I have to have it out of my system by Saturday. Gavin: Fair enough

The week passed in a series of tests that Gavin was less ready for than he would have liked. It was Saturday before he was ready for that either. He loved Tina, but he didn’t exactly trust her to behave; especially with as curious as she had been about Richard. Her mouth had a tendency to runaway with her before her brain had the chance to catch up. Gavin wasn’t looking forward to having to play damage control if she got too excited. He wasn’t expecting the three of them to be settled in at a table and talking by the time he arrived. Chris was pretty fluent in Sign Language because he had taken it in high school, he was playing translator and also signing as he spoke. Gavin ordered his usual Carmel Macchiato and made his way to the table once it was ready. The cat he had to pick up so he could sit beside Richard let out an indignant squawk. “I swear you keep treats or some shit in your pockets.” Gavin said in way of a greeting. ‘I Thought You Said I Have Captivating Personality.’ Richard signed with a grin. Gavin rolled his eyes, “With people as well as cats apparently.” “Captivating personality huh?” Chris said with a laugh. “Oh shut up Chris.” Gavin remarked. “So am I the only one that doesn’t know Sign then?” Tina asked. “Yeah.” Gavin replied, “But I’m still learning so don’t worry.”

‘I Teach You If You Want.’ Richard said. “He said he could teach you if you would like.” Gavin translated, “ Or we could add him to the group chat.” “Why not both?” Tina suggested, “But it seems like he has enough on his plate with tutoring you so Chris can teach me instead. Lord knows we have enough time between all the hours we spend on patrol together or at our desks.” “Thanks for asking T.” Chris said dryly, “But that’s not what we’re here for.” “True.” Tina agreed, “We’re here to have coffee and a good time.” They talked for a while before they split into separate conversations. Tina and Gavin started talking about high school since that was the last time they had all ben at the cafe. Chris was signing rapidly to Richard about something. From time to time they would cross conversations, or someone would say something that caught all of them off guard and the conversation would stall for a while. It was a nice change of pace and Gavin found himself smiling so broadly that his cheeks hurt. They were getting ready to leave when Tina spoke up again. “We go out for drinks at a local bar on Fridays if you ever want to join us.” She offered, and her hand was half way to his shoulder before she stopped herself. ‘Sounds Fun.’ Richard agreed and Gavin groaned.

Gavin stared at Richard for a long moment, “We can cab together then I guess.” Richard grinned and Gavin found himself returning it. ‘Thank You.’ Richard signed. They parted ways outside the cafe and Gavin felt his phone vibrate a few times on the walk back to his apartment. He didn’t check it until he was inside.

In Chris We Trust added Tall Phcker from Psych to Oh No! Its the Cops.

Tall Phcker from Psych: Thank you for today. I had fun. Pocket Police: Of course! It was great to finally meet you. In Chris We Trust: See you Friday! Gavin: I’m in danger. Tall Phcker from Psych: Only if you don’t take care of yourself. Pocket Police: I like him In Chris We Trust: Same

Gavin rolled his eyes and locked his phone so he could relax for a bit. He was glad to see them get along but he didn’t want to read a play by play of them planning the demise of his bad habits. His biggest worry had been that Richard would be overwhelmed, but he was relieved that hadn’t been the case. Richard deserved all the love he could get.

#A Hand in the Matter #AHM #reed900 #dbh gavin #dbh nines #dbh fic #dbh

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andipxndy-writes · 3 years

Text

the coffee shop

fandom: alex rider warnings: none requested by: @zixylixy word count: 9.8k

cross-posted to ao3

summary: You knew you should've stayed in bed the moment your coffee went all over your front. Still... that meant you met someone unique, someone different. Someone who was becoming special to you. And if you were being completely honest, now that you were thinking back on it, you wouldn't have it any other way.

the coffee shop

You knew you should’ve stayed in bed that morning the moment your coffee went all over your front.

To be fair, up until that point your morning hadn’t gone too badly. You’d woken up, been tempted to stay in bed for a few hours longer, and then realised you had emails to answer and paperwork to do for work. Granted, you were working from home, so there was no rush to actually complete the work you’d been assigned until the end of the working day, but it was nice to get it all done in the morning. Then the rest of your day was free.

And that was what ended up happening. As soon as you’d got up and ready for the day, you managed to get your work done pretty quickly. All it took was a handful of hours of properly focusing, and you could get everything you needed to do done quickly enough.

Plenty of time for you to do things for yourself.

Of course, doing things for yourself wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when you finished work for the day. First of all there was the dishes (which took all of five minutes), and then the washing (which took a little longer, but you had that all in in half an hour), and then there was the general cleaning of the house that you hadn’t managed to get to last weekend (which definitely took closer to a couple of hours, maybe more). By the time you were done with all of that, it was the middle of the afternoon.

You thought it was about time to actually treat yourself.

So at about three in the afternoon, you had your little backpack packed with your notebook, laptop and a book, ready to keep yourself entertained with a coffee at your favourite local coffee shop. Just to wind down, maybe get back into that reading and writing groove again.

Except, when you got to your favourite local coffee shop, it was filled. Somehow, and you didn’t know how, the place had become everyone’s favourite place to visit in the late afternoon. Which meant that you couldn’t find anywhere to sit. In fact, the knowledge that someone was sitting in your favourite spot on their own and was casually scrolling through their phone was what irked you the most, and it made you very hesitant to leave the place. A small part of you even wanted to kick them out of the seat. But it was crammed, and you didn’t particularly like being around so many people anyway.

So you left. You knew where the nearest Starbucks was, and you also knew that it wasn’t too far to get to, so it would have to do. For once.

(Last time you’d gone there, with the absolute crowding and mess that went on there, you vowed to never go again. But the nearest Costa was too far to walk and the nearest Cafe Nero was even further. So it would have to do.)

As you got your coffee, you had to mentally remind yourself that just because Starbucks was mainstream didn’t mean that the coffee was any worse than what you usually got at your favourite spot. Perhaps the baristas here were decent, and the coffee had to be drinkable for people to regularly get drinks there.

When you took your coffee and sipped on it, your brain and taste buds helpfully reminded you that the coffee was worse, and tasted pretty cheap and generic, but you were going to have to deal. Because the next best places were further out and you couldn’t be bothered to walk that far.

The only other downside to Starbucks was because it was so popular and so mainstream, it also didn’t have any space for you to sit. Luckily, you were less bothered about this, and had been prepared for such an eventuality, so you were heading out to go to the local park – there were some picnic benches there that you could sit on and use to relax whilst you had your coffee, and the day was nice enough that it made sitting outside with your hot beverage and a good book worth it.

Your plans were ruined the moment you stepped through the open doorway.

“Hey!” you cried as your cup smacked into your front and emptied out over your jumper and jeans. As much as you didn’t care about the coffee, you did care about what you were wearing. You just so happened to be wearing your favourite outfit that day.

You were not impressed.

“Hey, I–oh my god I’m so sorry.”

The person who had crashed into you was tall, with fair hair and plain brown eyes. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him, really. Apart from his sharp jawline. And handsome features.

Nope, nothing remarkable about him at all.

Shaking out your hands to get off the hot coffee before trying to peel your clothing from your skin so that it didn’t keep burning you, you huffed, scowling. One small part of your brain decided to remind you that you were glad to be rid of that horrible coffee, but you hadn’t exactly wanted it on you instead.

“I’m so sorry, let me buy you another coffee.”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow at the offer. You were currently covered in coffee, sticky and wet, and standing on the pavement in front of your least-favourite coffee shop.

Another coffee wasn’t going to cut it, and you made sure your face said exactly that.

“I need to change,” you muttered, more to yourself than the man in front of you as you looked back at your clothes. “This was my fave… god, I need to do another wash…”

You spared the man a glance out of the corner of your eye. The guy looked a little awkward now, hearing you ramble to yourself, and a small part of you was satisfied in knowing you’d made a grown man feel awkward about not watching where he was going. You didn’t tend to do that often, but when you did it was incredibly satisfying.

“I’m sorry, truly. I’ll buy you another jumper. And a coffee.”

Another jumper and a coffee? Was this man desperate for your forgiveness or something? You looked up at him properly, narrowing your eyes at him.

He offered a nervous smile in return.

The smile melted your scowl.

“I’ll take the coffee,” you mumbled in response, giving a sigh of resignation. “But after I’ve changed, god. I’m not sitting around in coffee-stained clothes.” Your clothes felt hot now, but they were definitely going to get colder and stickier, and that was going to get very uncomfortable. Before he could speak again, you held up a hand to silence him. “I live a ten minute walk away. You can wait for me right here. Right here. Don’t move.”

You didn’t realise how serious the guy was about getting you coffee (and a new jumper, you supposed) when, after you returned in a fresh change of clothes, he was still standing right there waiting for you.

***

There were a few things you learned from that coffee you had with the guy who’d crashed into you. Firstly, and most importantly, you found out that he wasn’t a fan of Starbucks either, and somehow managed to get you both into your favourite coffee shop when you told him about the spot. With seats in your favourite spot.

He’d laughed when you vowed to love him forever.

The second thing you learned was that his name was Alex. You introduced yourself too, of course, but he seemed more than a little reluctant to tell you his surname. You didn’t mind, of course, but that meant that you insisted on being given the same courtesy – first names only, no surnames allowed. And from the way he nodded, it seemed to be a good enough agreement for him.

The third thing you learnt was that Alex was actually single, and had been on his way to meet someone when he’d crashed into you. He then insisted that your impromptu “date” was a lot better than what he’d originally planned to go to. It made you curious about the person he’d been going to meet, definitely, and why he was so willing to ditch them for someone such as yourself – especially when he’d only just met you.

Well, what you two had done hadn’t been a date, exactly, considering it felt more like two friends catching up. Or two friends meeting for the first time. But you realised you’d enjoyed it like one, and the two of you exchanged social media handles before parting ways: you suggested Twitter, he gave you his Insta, and both of you laughed when you realised you had Tumblr.

Neither of you shared your Tumblr usernames.

And then that was it. You pretty much forgot about the guy – any thoughts of him were lost amidst all of the work you were suddenly bombarded with (which you didn’t appreciate at all, and you were frankly disappointed in your boss for) and you were barely even given the chance to breathe.

It made you miss your writing.

That was why, when you got your next batch of free time (and told your boss that under absolutely no circumstances was he to send you more work to do) you packed up your bag with your usual notebook and stationary set and headed down to the nearest park. Since that last time you’d tried to get coffee, you hadn’t even attempted to get out of the house and do some writing on your own. You figured today would be a good day to go out and get some writing done, as well as get some fresh air.

Taking one look outside, though, you realised it was gradually getting darker, and one look at the clock told you it would probably get dark within the next couple of hours. Knowing your habits, it would be dark long before you finished wanting to write.

Perhaps the nearest university library would be best. You still had a membership card for it, anyway.

It took you about ten minutes to get out of the house with everything you needed, and then you were walking towards the library. Your favourite coffee shop was on the way there, so you decided it would be a good idea to stop by the coffee shop and grab something to drink at the library. You had your travel mug with you anyway, and it wasn’t as if the library refused to let people drink in there all the time.

Students practically lived in there anyway. They had to keep themselves alive somehow.

Just as you were walking into the coffee shop, you realised it was pretty quiet inside… but very noisy outside. Not noisy in the sense that there were lots of people walking about, oh no. It was noisy because there was something more than a little hectic happening on the street that ran by the coffee shop. Cars were speeding past, bikes were speeding past. The only thing that didn’t speed past was an ambulance, which (considering the speed those vehicles were moving about) concerned you greatly.

Still, you managed to tell yourself that this wasn’t your issue and you moved on, not even looking back over your shoulder to see what was going on. The distractions would hold you back, and it was getting later and later. You wanted your coffee and your spot in the library.

It wasn’t until you’d grabbed your coffee and were about to head out that you saw a bike – a battered, wobbly motorbike – pull up outside the cafe. It was a no-parking zone out on that part of the street, and you knew this, but you weren’t going to be the one to warn the person about it when the owner was probably out back watching on a security camera or something. They could suffer from that earful themselves.

The rider got off the bike, stumbling a little bit as they got used to being back on their own two feet, before pulling off their helmet. That was when you realised two things.

One, you’d seen that bike before. It had been brief, yes, but that bike had definitely been part of that whole commotion that had gone on outside whilst you’d been walking. You were absolutely sure of it. In fact, you were pretty sure it had been near the front of whatever had gone on, and had been the main one speeding. Which was more than a little concerning, considering it had now stopped outside of the cafe.

Two, you recognised the person as soon as their helmet came off. You didn’t know exactly why you managed to recognise them so quickly, but you hadn’t managed to see them for a while. Not since you’d first met.

It was Alex.

You stood frozen in place, surprised that after so long you were finally seeing him again. It was… strange, to say the least.

He paused himself, standing sort of lopsided as though he was supporting himself with one leg mostly. He was also seemingly surprised to see you, and then he gave you a half-smile. You got a feeling that he actually did kind of remember you, though you didn’t quite know what would really encourage him to do that.

Then you remembered how you first met, and it all made sense.

“Hello,” he finally greeted once he was close enough to you.

You simply took a sip of your coffee, staring him in the eyes. You didn’t know why exactly you did that – maybe it was a reminder of how he didn’t have to make you spill your coffee all over yourself to get your attention. “Hi.”

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, him watching you drink your hot beverage, and then he finally decided to speak.

“Do you want to sit in here and talk for a bit? We should catch up, right?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Catch up? That was definitely very… forward of him. “We barely even know each other.”

“Then we can get to know each other more.”

You were so tempted to give in and point out how forward that seemed. After all, this was only the second time you were meeting in person. Granted, you’d seemed to get on pretty well the first time you’d met, but that didn’t mean you’d get along this time… did it? But, of course, you knew you were better than that and that you weren’t the type of person to call someone out when you barely knew them.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m not staying here.”

“Then I’ll grab a drink and join you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Be quick, then.” It didn’t seem as though you were going to get much writing done today either, and it was this guy’s fault.

Again.

***

After that second meeting, where he managed to successfully crash your library writing time and instead had you both sitting in the nearest park chatting over coffee, you began to spend significantly more time getting to know and hanging out with each other. Less than a week after you’d met, you received a message to your Insta from him, and the two of you ended up striking up a conversation via direct messaging that got incredibly long and in-depth, about anything and everything that came to mind. It got to a point where you looked forward to getting responses from him, whether the topic had switched to politics or reading or hobbies. You hadn’t yet decided to tell him that you enjoyed creative writing – in fact, you weren’t even sure you were ever going to tell him, because that was a very private part of who you were – but you spoke about enough other hobbies that you realised you had a wide range of hobbies and skills between you both. There were even some that you shared, whilst others seemed a lot more… obscure on his end. (You certainly hadn’t been scuba diving before.)

Anyway, with the increased conversation came the increased chance to meet up, but every time you planned to meet up for another coffee at your favourite spot something came up. And you meant every time. Whether it was work pushing you again and forcing you to work beyond business hours, or Alex having to cancel for some reason or other (that he often didn’t tell you), everything you organised didn’t work out. It sucked, really. Especially since you seemed to spend more and more time at the coffee shop as the weather changed, whether it was because you were writing or because you wanted a change of scenery to get your work done as best you could.

Well, it sucked until, finally, someone decided to take it into their own hands.

Hint: it wasn’t you.

At the time, you didn’t know why Alex had asked for your address, and you didn’t know why you’d so willingly given it over either. But it wasn’t as though you were particularly worried about him knowing it. He was a decent enough guy, and if he wanted to get you stuff and have it delivered to your doorstep then you weren’t going to complain about it. If he decided to kidnap you instead, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t have a problem with that either. Considering how boring your life had become, you’d probably thank him for it.

You didn’t, however, expect him to turn up on your doorstep, bags of what definitely smelled like your favourite takeout in his hands. You tried not to let your jaw drop too dramatically.

You’d only ever mentioned your favourite takeout once, in passing conversation. How did he even remember that?

“Hi.” His greeting sounded almost suave, as though him going out and getting your favourite takeout after a good while of not seeing each other in person just to have dinner at your place was perfectly normal.

And not… weirdly kind, or borderline romantic.

“Hi,” you responded in an almost hesitant tone, watching him warily for a few moments.

He stood there with the takeout still in his hands, but he didn’t look awkward at all. Not one bit. If anything, he looked like he’d done this too many times before to be doing it again with you.

It made you curious.

“So… are you going to let me in?” The question was asked in a sarcastic drawl, not unlike the one you heard in your head whenever you read messages from him that came as a response to something funny you said, and it made you smile. The wariness and hesitation about him being there melted away immediately.

“I guess I am,” you chirped back, before standing aside and letting him walk past. As he passed you, you couldn’t help but notice he was wearing cologne – maybe he was walking closer to you this time than he usually did, but you could smell it.

And it smelled pretty nice.

You held yourself back from mentioning anything, though.

Soon enough, the two of you were sitting at your small dining table, usually intended for one but actually catering to two tonight, with the takeaway on the table between you both. You couldn’t remember being particularly hungry when Alex arrived, but as soon as you both sat down at the table and Alex began to unload everything ready for you to eat, your stomach decided to announce that it was empty and you were famished. Alex only cracked a grin at the sound your stomach made, and you had to try hard not to let your cheeks heat up in response.

“It’s not funny.”

“Of course it isn’t.” He opened up the food, and the smell was absolutely heavenly. “It’s an indication of how hungry you are. That’s all.”

“Exactly.” And then your eyes narrowed at him. “Are you mocking me?”

He simply replied with a grin as he finished dishing out plates for you both. His lack of an answer was just as good as a confirmation, in your opinion, and you scowled at him playfully as you picked up your cutlery.

You would have to forgive him begrudgingly, if only because he brought you food. And good food at that.

Your meal was pretty nice, you had to admit. The conversations you had were varied, as they usually were, and somehow Alex managed to bring up almost everything that you could have talked about – from politics to art, and science to TV. Even you had to admit that the conversation was a lot more interesting than it usually was, and even if you didn’t share the same opinion on some things, it wasn’t so different that you immediately hated each other and broke off your friendship.

Yes, because that was what it was. Friendship.

You were just friends with this hot guy.

…Your mother was going to have words with you when she found out about this.

By the time you finally looked at the clock, you had both finished dinner a while back and were just sitting at the table, chatting. At some point, you’d popped into the kitchen and made hot beverages for both of you – a tea for him, and a hot chocolate for yourself.

The clock, of course, was almost at midnight. Your eye twitched.

You had work tomorrow.

Alex followed your gaze to the clock, his own eyebrows rising. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit indeed.” You looked down into your mug and, finding it was empty, pouted a little. There was nothing there to keep you two talking other than a desire to continue the conversation, and it wasn’t as if you could tell your boss that you were tired because you just wanted to chat with a friend. “I guess we’ve got to finish off, huh?”

That was all it took for both of you to start clearing up, and by the time all of the dishes were washed and everything was put away it was well past midnight. It wasn’t as if washing up was going to go smoothly when the two of you could easily have chatted the night away. In fact, it was almost one in the morning when you and Alex finally made it to your front door, you leaning on the door frame as he stood just beyond your doorway.

It took you almost ten minutes to actually say goodbye.

“Message when you get home,” you called out as he turned to head down the corridor. He gave half a wave over his shoulder, smiling back at you, and you waited until he’d completely disappeared from sight before closing the door, leaning against it with a frown.

Why were you so determined to make sure Alex was safe?

And why, why, did you all of a sudden latch onto just how attractive Alex was?

***

From then on, dinner seemed to happen on a pretty regular basis. Somehow you managed to pry Alex’s home address from his lips, and sometimes you got what you worked out was his favourite takeaway and headed over to his place, surprising him with dinner and a chat. One time, you were pretty sure you walked in whilst he had someone else over – a dark-haired woman, pretty with freckles and blue eyes. She only looked between the two of you before leaving, a smirk on her face, and you narrowed your eyes at Alex until he admitted that she was a childhood friend that he was (somehow) still close to.

You met her a couple more times. She was nice.

But not as nice as Alex’s oldest and longest best friend. He was a riot.

The first time you met him, Alex came over bringing dinner with a scowl on his face. Before you could even ask what was wrong, a smaller, wiry guy burst in with a huge grin on his face. He, of course, immediately struck you as a troublemaker.

You just didn’t know how much of a troublemaker he was.

He spent most of your dinner recounting stories from when Alex was a teen, all the stupid and reckless things that Alex had done that you were pretty sure would have got him into very big trouble if any sort of adult had found out, and you ended up spending most of the dinner laughing as Alex rolled his eyes and tried to correct him or defend his actions. You didn’t really have an opinion on much of what Alex did (that was a lie, you thought he was totally reckless and stupid), but you found it funny watching him squirm and get defensive, and he was fun to poke. This was a side of Alex you hadn’t really seen before.

You liked it.

It wasn’t until the end of the evening that you found out that Alex’s friend’s name was actually Tom Harris. You didn’t know how you’d managed to go that whole evening without finding out his name, but you had.

The next morning, the first thing you did was send him a friend request on Facebook. By the end of the day, you had him on all possible social media platforms and were sending each other all of your favourite memes.

Your favourite meal by far, though, was the one that stuck most in your memory. It would always stick the most in your memory.

Alex, in an apparent twist in tradition, had decided to bring his favourite takeaway over to yours for the evening. You didn’t mind the switch – you actually kind of liked it – but you didn’t hesitate to rib him for it. After all, what kind of gentleman was he if he brought over what he wanted, instead of what you would want?

His response of, “You’ll eat anything anyway,” hit deep, but it wasn’t wrong. You swatted at him with a tea towel for it, and he simply laughed as he moved to unload everything on your tiny dining table.

“I can’t believe you ditched my favourite for yours today,” you whined as you sat down, waiting for him to dish out the food onto your plates. The agreement was that whoever brought over food would be the one serving, but it was weird being served food that wasn’t your favourite. “This feels like a betrayal.”

He just scoffed at you and rolled his eyes. “My place was on the way.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. You knew that your place was on the way from his to yours, you saw it every time and silently longed over it whenever you brought over Alex’s favourite to his place. So the only way for his chosen place to be on the way was for him to be coming from that direction, which was in the opposite direction. Like, if he was coming from somewhere else.

Like work.

“A busy day at work, then?” you asked casually. Alex didn’t usually come from work straight to yours, he usually came from home. At least, that was what you assumed. After all, he was dressed a lot less casually than he usually was. (In fact, you wanted to say that he looked pretty dashing in what definitely looked like a business suit.)

A small frown grew on his face in response to your question, stayed there for a moment, and then he seemed to brush off whatever was on his mind and give you a small smile. “Yeah, pretty busy.” He paused for a moment, finishing off dishing out his food and setting the takeout bowls aside, and then, “I’ve been asked to go on a business trip.”

Your eyes shot up at this, widening as you stared at him. Alex had never really gone into detail about his job before, but… a business trip? You didn’t think he went on business trips. At least, he hadn’t been on one since you’d known him. Not that you’d known of anyway.

“…How long?” you asked eventually, once he’d taken his blazer off and settled in his seat, both of you about to start eating. Your voice was quieter than you expected it to be. You didn’t quite get why you were so quiet all of a sudden – it was just Alex, and you’d had friends disappear for long periods of time before. You were pretty sure you had some friends who went on regular business trips. But you’d gone quiet anyway, and it didn’t seem as though you were going to make yourself any louder.

Alex watched you for a few moments, his fork in his hand and hovering over his plate, and then he put his cutlery down. You got the feeling that this was about to be a pretty in-depth conversation, and mentally prepared yourself.

“Unconfirmed,” he answered, his voice taking on a harder tone, “but maybe a couple of weeks.”

“Where are you going?”

His lips pursed at that, and that confused you. Why was he so reluctant to tell you? “Somewhere in Europe. I’m not sure where yet.”

You just stared at him. Why was he keeping it such a secret? You got the feeling that he knew… but weren’t you close enough friends for him to tell you something like that?

Alex gave a sigh, picking up his fork again. “Let’s… let’s talk about something else, alright?” He offered you an awkward half-smile. “I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came here to have dinner and talk about anything and everything, like we usually do. You know?”

You did know. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t a coworker at the end of the day about anything that came to mind, especially over dinner. It meant that you could have varied conversations that didn’t involve getting work done.

But now you felt as though you really should know more about him. What was his job? Where did he even work? He’d never told you that before. And you didn’t think he was ever going to tell you that now.

So you picked up your own fork, looking down at your plate, and decided to focus on your food for a little while. Until you got all of your thoughts together, at least. You didn’t think you would be able to talk until that happened, and there was no way for it to not be awkward if you decided to go and collect yourself in the bathroom or anything like that.

The rest of your dinner was pretty quiet. You did, eventually, manage to collect all of your thoughts and get back into conversation with him, but you couldn’t help but feel that at least some of it was forced, on both sides. You didn’t want it to be – you missed the easy conversation you and Alex tended to have at the table when you were sharing dinner – but it ended up being so. Even as he helped you to wash the dishes and put everything away, you realised the atmosphere just wasn’t as relaxed and easy as you were used to it being.

And it continued that way all the way up to the front door, where you ended up in your usual position of leaning on the doorframe as Alex stood outside of the door. You both stood there in silence for a few moments, taking in the fact that this would be your last dinner together for a while.

“Well,” you started, pushing yourself off the doorframe, “I have work tomorrow, so…”

“Right,” Alex agreed, his hands in his pockets as he nodded. Usually he would at least take some of the food back to his place if he bought it. Today he wasn’t taking anything. “You shouldn’t stay up too late. Or you get–”

“Cranky,” you cut in, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

That made Alex crack a grin, and somehow that eased the tension between you both the slightest bit. There were at least some parts of your friendship that wouldn’t change with Alex being away for so long. You’d miss the dinners, definitely, but you had Tom’s number. You could invite him over regularly, and show up at his as well. Sure, he had a girlfriend, but she was lovely and probably needed someone a little more sane around for at least a little bit of time a week.

“I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” you said, trying to sound hopeful, and Alex gave a nod. The situation, the whole him leaving thing, didn’t feel as depressing as it could have been. It was temporary. Alex would be back, right?

“I guess so.” He pulled out hand from his pocket and half-waved in his usual way, before turning to head down the corridor. “See you around!”

You simply smiled, and as soon as he disappeared from sight you moved to shut the door, sighing. Perhaps… perhaps Alex would change his mind and actually tell you where he was going. Perhaps Alex would even message you whilst he was out on his business trip, just to see how you were doing without him around. Those late night chat conversations were always nice, and if those stopped for two weeks you would be sorely disappointed.

You were just headed to the kitchen to make sure everything was tidied away and switched off when there was a knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be knocking at the door at this hour? You turned and headed back towards the door to see who it was.

As soon as you opened the door, you felt a pair of lips against yours.

You were surprised at first, not sure who it was that was actually kissing you, but then that familiar smell of cologne hit you and you knew.

It was Alex.

His lips were dry, a bit chapped despite recently having dinner, and still managed to feel soft against your own. He seemed a bit hesitant at the start of the kiss, but when you didn’t fight back… when you didn’t fight back, his arms circled your waist, pulling you closer. You simply sunk into the kiss, letting him move his lips against your own, with your arms moving to rest on his shoulders and your hands interlocking behind his neck. You didn’t know how long you even kissed for, but by the time you were pulling away you were starting to feel lightheaded. You blinked owlishly at him, genuinely surprised at what had happened.

Had he just… had he just kissed you?

He stared back at you for a few moments, before clearing his throat. Pulling away from you, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Then he opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly trying to decide on the words to say. And then,

“I’ll… see you in a couple of weeks, then.”

You stared after him in something akin to shock as he disappeared down the corridor.

***

The following two weeks were nothing short of torture for you, both physically and emotionally. Work, somehow, got significantly more busy for you, and it meant that you actually had to go back into the office some days to get some work done. You didn’t particularly like the idea of going back and being around so many of your coworkers for long periods of time, not when you were so comfortable in your own space at home and were pretty productive on your own as it was. But it meant that if you had to stay on and do work, you weren’t distracted by the idea of ordering dinner only to realise that there was no one around to have dinner with. Sure, Tom was about, and so was his girlfriend. But Alex was out of town.

It also meant that you didn’t have to spend any time thinking about that last dinner you had together. About how you’d felt when you found out that Alex was disappearing on you for two weeks all of a sudden, or that he actually went on business trips and disappeared for periods of time.

Or how you felt when he’d kissed you for the first time.

You sometimes got butterflies just thinking about it, him placing his lips on yours and holding you close. The way his slightly dry lips felt against your softer ones, how he smelled up close, how warm his embrace felt as he pulled you in close–

You had to pinch yourself to stop yourself from thinking about it, otherwise you’d spend all day pining or crying over it.

Sometimes you even visited the cafe where you first sat down together to chat, where he’d bought you your first coffee and you’d had your first… well, your first technical date. All you wanted was a coffee, and you ended up being assaulted by thoughts of him and the time you’d spent together.

You didn’t want to think about it that way – you’d never wanted to think about it that way, that it was your first date. But that was how you ended up thinking about it. It had been a date, technically. And all the times where you’d gone to each other’s for dinner had also been dates. You just didn’t want to think of it in that way because you’d only ever thought of him as a friend, and you hadn’t discussed anything to imply that you were anything more.

That kiss more often than not made you think of him as something more.

It reached its worse when one evening, you got off work early. You thought you’d be fine, you told all of your coworkers that you’d be fine at home on your own (it wasn’t as if they knew about Alex anyway) and headed off. It was the middle of the week, so it wasn’t like you could join in on anyone’s night out or anything. Because, you know, no one went on a night out right in the middle of the week.

That evening you found yourself craving company, just wishing there was someone there to have dinner with you. That evening, you craved him.

That evening someone knocked on your door, and you opened it to find it was Tom, Alex’s best friend. He had a frown on his face, a genuine look of concern, which quickly wiped away when he realised you were standing there. The look turned into a grin as he held out what was obviously your favourite takeaway, perfectly bagged and ready to eat.

Just as Alex would.

“I hear someone usually gets takeout with Mr. Businessman,” he teased, before heading into your place without even an invitation. You wanted to be mad at him as he started rambling on about how Alex had thought it was best to get a replacement for dinner and how every time Tom had knocked you hadn’t been there, but really you were glad. You hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone.

Well, you wouldn’t.

And really the night turned out to be more fun than even you had expected. Tom was a non-stop chatter, commenting on anything and everything, and he even went as far as telling you stories about Alex that you were very sure he wouldn’t tell you himself. It meant that you spent pretty much the whole night in stitches as Tom recalled his and Alex’s childhood. You knew he and Alex had been friends for a long while, but just knowing some of their history… it made you realise how they had managed to stay so close for so long.

If you had been through even a smidge of what those two had been through together with a friend, you doubted you would have left them behind ever. You were pretty sure you would have been best friends for life.

When it came time for Tom to finally leave, you couldn’t help but feel like you were going to miss him. Sure, having dinner with him didn’t match up to having dinner with Alex, and you were definitely sure there was someone else Tom could have been with that evening, but it was the nicest night you’d had since Alex had left. You appreciated Tom, you really did.

And you made sure to tell him that as you both headed to your front door (you didn’t have the heart to make him do the dishes with you, like Alex did, so he was leaving considerably earlier than Alex usually would).

Tom only gave you a grin as you thanked him. “It’s alright. You’ve done a lot for him. It’s the least I could do for you.”

You frowned a little. What exactly had you done for Alex? As far as you knew, he had done so much for you. He bought you food, kept you company, and had genuinely been a good friend to you from the moment he’d bought you a coffee to make up for the spilled one. You couldn’t really think of anything you had done for him. Instead of dwelling on that, though, Tom was quick to switch the subject to when you’d next have dinner together (and he pointed out that you’d need to bring over extra as well) and informing you of his favourite takeaway.

Part of you didn’t want to feel like he was talking as though Alex would be away for longer… but he was definitely talking like Alex would be away for longer

“Are you going to be alright?”

Tom’s question snapped you out of your thoughts, and you stared at him. Were you going to be alright? You’d spiralled already because one person was missing – it wasn’t as though the world was ending or anything. So you gave him a smile.

“I’ll be alright.”

A small part of you wondered whether that was really true.

***

It was more than a couple of weeks. You’d been busy, and had probably lost track of the time, but it felt like it had been more than a couple of weeks. It had been too long since you’d shared a dinner with that rather attractive fair-haired man, whose first time meeting you involved making you spill your coffee all over your front. You were still really missing him, like you were having withdrawal symptoms, and it felt weird.

You hadn’t ever missed someone like this for so long before – not even your own parents. It felt… weird. Part of you didn’t like it. You didn’t want to feel this way when it took over most of your waking thoughts if you weren’t sufficiently distracted. You wanted to be able to think of and do other things without having to try so hard. And more often than not, you couldn’t do other things unless you were working, because nothing else distracted you enough.

Other than, well, writing.

But you hadn’t had your writing mojo in a while. Mostly because you spent most of your time at work, but also because you didn’t actually have the energy or the time to get out your notebook (or even open up your documents) on most days to actually get some writing done. Perhaps it was about time to kick that back into gear. You had a feeling that hobby would kick your loneliness.

And that was how you ended up packing up your backpack, your notebooks and stationary in there along with your empty travel mug, as you headed down to your favourite coffee shop. You hadn’t been there in ages – not since before Alex had left – and you missed their coffee. You thought you could do with something hot and caffeinated, just to kick you into gear and wake your brain up. After all, you wouldn’t have the usual adrenaline from work waking you up and pushing you through.

The walk down to the coffee shop was rather nice, admittedly. It was a decently nice day, and it was peaceful outside – most people were either at work or relaxing at home for the day, so it wasn’t as though there was anyone outside to bother you or get in your way. Soon enough you managed to make it to the actual coffee shop, and you were more than glad that you hadn’t really bumped into anyone on your way down. It meant that you didn’t really have to talk to anyone at all, not even your neighbours, so you could get into the headspace that you wanted without too much issue.

The only thing was, the coffee shop was decently busy at the time. There was a steady hum of conversation as you walked into the shop, various people sitting on the different tables available. You worried that it would mean there wouldn’t be any space to sit, or that someone would try to strike up a random conversation with you, until you realised that your favourite table was actually free, and you smiled.

This was definitely a sign.

You headed straight to the counter to order your classic usual – an iced caramel latte, even though it wasn’t particularly hot outside – along with a blueberry muffin. Just to treat yourself and get you into the vibes of the cafe. It didn’t feel like it took long at all for your order to come, which was probably helped along by the fact that the barista hadn’t seen you in a while and struck up a conversation with you. You felt a little bad for not visiting as often – you used to chat near-regularly with this guy when you came there on an almost thrice-weekly basis – but you never had the time recently, and you admitted that.

When he asked you how your writing was going, you just felt guiltier.

Either way, you exchanged social media handles before he gave you your order, and you promised to message each other more when you weren’t around. After all, you liked chatting with the guy. You may as well strike up whatever friendship you had going with him. (And if it turned into something more… then what did you have to lose?

It was about half an hour after you sat down, when you’d finally got into your writing flow, when you felt the whole atmosphere of the cafe change very suddenly. What had once been warm and welcoming suddenly changed to curiosity and wariness, and as much as you wanted to ignore it and keep writing, the change was too dramatic for you to ignore. You had to see what was going on. That was why you put down your pen and looked up, curious about what was going on.

And it felt like, in that moment, your breath was stolen from you.

You recognised that familiar mop of fair hair the moment you saw it. You’d had dreams, weird dreams, of running your fingers through that hair, just to see how soft it was. You’d always imagined that it looked thinner and more wiry than it actually was, that you would run your fingers through it as he lay his head in your lap, the two of you relaxing at either of your places or even out on the local park, simply enjoying nature.

You were drawn out of your daydreams about his hair when his eyes suddenly focused on you. You’d always known his eyes were dark, but something was… something was different about them now. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what, but it was something. Something that you had a feeling should concern you.

Still, the moment his eyes landed on you, they somehow lit up, and that was enough to get you to stand to greet him instead of sitting until he came over. You watched him as he slowly approached you, not intending to get any closer to him.

Your feet carried you forward anyway, and soon enough you were embracing him, your arms wrapped tightly around him, and his around you. He felt almost like a lifeline, like someone you needed to survive. You didn’t know when he’d become that for you, how or when you’d come to depend on him so much, but as you clutched him you realised that you weren’t sure how much longer you could have survived without him around.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmured, your lips right next to his ear.

He let out the breathiest of laughs, tickling your ear. “I’ve missed you too,” he murmured lowly. And then he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes. “We need to t–”

You didn’t know what had come over you, but the next thing you knew, your lips were pressing against his in a soft kiss that you hoped, you dearly hoped, conveyed everything you were feeling right then. Everything you felt about him in that moment. The way he froze up reminded you of how you’d hesitated when he’d first kissed you, but then he was kissing you back, his familiar chapped lips moving against your own. A few moments later you slowly pulled away – not breathless, but satisfied. And he rested his forehead against yours, a small smile on his lips.

“…Okay then.”

You laughed at his words, suddenly very aware that people in the cafe were probably staring at you both. Regardless, you took the opportunity to reach up and run a hand through his hair. You realised that your thoughts had been right – it was softer than it looked, and felt running through your fingers. Idly, you watched as his eyes closed in response to the movement.

So he liked his hair being played with? That was good to know.

“You’re right,” you spoke up, making him open his eyes so that he could concentrate on what you were saying. “We need to talk.”

Alex nodded as your hand slid out of his hair to rest on his shoulder. His hands rested on your hips, holding you close. “Right. Talk.” He paused for a moment, as though he was collecting his thoughts, and then, “Coffee?”

Your smile widened impossibly as you thought back to the first time you’d met. Of how he’d bought you a coffee in this very shop, and had your drinks at the very table you’d been sitting at when he’d walked in. And you were about to do it again.

“Coffee sounds like a good idea. You’re buying?”

He scoffed as he pulled away fully, making you laugh. “Are you expecting me to buy, or asking me to?”

You simply grinned at him as you headed back to your table. As soon as you sat down, you rested your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, a smirk on your face. “You figure it out.”

He stared at you for a few moments, noticing your half-finished iced latte still sitting on the table, and rolled his eyes at you. “You’ve been spending too much time around Tom.”

“I’ve been spending just enough time around Tom, thank you very much.”

You just about managed to stop yourself from saying how you wanted to spend more time with just him, though. Just about. But that was all that went through your mind as you watched him go off to get his coffee from the barista you’d been chatting with earlier.

Soon enough he was back with his coffee. You swore you could see the barista watching after him with a weird expression on his face, but as soon as Alex was sitting in front of you your focus was on him, and not on the guy you chatted with whenever you came there to get your coffee. Your eyes were glued to him and only him as he took a sip from his coffee, and you couldn't help but realise that there were… purple-ish marks on his neck. At least, they looked that way to you. You didn't get much time to look at them, though, because soon enough he was looking at you again and had put his mug down, his shirt covering up whatever you’d seen.

“So, talking,” he started, and you couldn’t help but glance down at your iced latte, very tempted to take a sip from your drink so that you didn’t have to say anything. But you got the feeling that he would catch that – Alex was very observant – so you decided against it.

“Talking,” you repeated, before taking a deep breath. How did you even talk about it? It was… a lot, but at the same time, so little. Where did you even start? “…Do you want to talk about the first, or the second?”

You could tell Alex was trying to hold back a smirk as he looked at you. “Well, ideally we should start with the first, don’t you think?”

Well, when he put it that way, he made it seem so obvious.

“Okay, then you start,” you pointed out, deciding now was a good time to take a sip from your latte. “After all, you initiated.”

His cheeks flushed pink at that point. “I did.”

You realised that you found the pink flush very cute.

It took him a few moments to seemingly compose himself, and that was the moment you realised that Alex wasn’t as confident or as outgoing as he usually let on. There, right then, you were seeing him as a shy, awkward man – probably the kind of person he’d once been before he’d grown up and started putting on the more confident front.

You liked this shyer version of him.

“I… have liked you for a while,” he admitted, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “I say a while, I mean… I mean a month, or so?" He gave an awkward half-shrug. "I just… acted."

You stared at him, blinking a few times. "You just… acted?"

"Yes."

"On impulse."

"Yes."

"Giving into an animalistic desire–"

"I wouldn't go quite that far."

You didn't know why, but suddenly you felt emboldened. The feelings you thought were a one-way crush turned out to be reciprocated, and your heart was bubbling with so much joy. But for some reason… for some reason you didn’t see the same level of excitement in his eyes.

Instead, you saw… was that hesitation?

He looked down at his mug, and then back up at you. And that was when you realised he wasn’t sure whether you felt the same way. Or, at least, that was what you were thinking, anyway. So you rolled your eyes at him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me on a proper date, or something?” you teased. You quickly realised that maybe saying that was a little too bold, but the way his cheeks flushed and he awkwardly laughed made you think that maybe he didn’t think of it as really offensive. Though the longer it took for him to answer made you wonder whether he was actually considering asking you on a date, or was trying to find a way to let you down gently.

“Dating me isn’t easy,” he finally said, his voice quiet. He looked… nervous now. “I’m a demanding person.”

“I know, I’ve fed you,” you responded casually. When he didn’t laugh, you realised he was probably talking about more than just food.

“I can also be absent for weeks at a time,” he pointed out.

“I can work with that, I’ve had a taster.”

“My job is really demanding, and I can’t tell you anything about it.”

That one confused you. Alex hadn’t ever told you anything about his job before anyway, but you knew that if you were getting closer to him that you’d want to know what he did from day to day. Or at least have an idea of what he did every day. But hearing that he couldn’t tell you anything… that sounded like it would be tough to deal with. And it also sounded like it was something that Alex anticipated.

So you reached over and placed your hands on his, watching as his eyes widened and he tensed a little. You gave him a small smile.

“I wouldn’t be dating you for your job. I’d be dating you for you. The job thing is secondary and not as important.”

He stared at you, as though he was actually processing what you were saying and whether you meant it. You hoped that he knew that you did mean it, and that you really did want to date him regardless. Relationships came from working hard at them – the two of you could work past anything you were unsure about now over time.

“Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Do you think I’d still be sitting here with you if I wasn’t?”

He stared at you, seemingly trying to decide whether you were telling the truth or not. So you decided to offer him a soft smile to try and encourage him.

“Do you really want to do this?” Alex asked, and you gave him a definitive nod.

“Yes.”

The smile that appeared on his face… it wasn’t quite blinding, but it was certainly very beautiful and very happy. And it made you smile even wider in return.

“Alright then.” He took a deep breath, still smiling. “Alright.”

“So pick me up tomorrow at seven?” you went on, and he laughed a little.

“Tomorrow at seven it is.” He shifted your hands so that he was actually holding them, and he squeezed a little. A squeeze that marked the beginning of a rather companionable silence as you both stared down at your hands, how they looked as you held onto each other.

Until you broke it.

“Is this the end of our talk?” you asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow at him. “Because if it isn’t, I think we need to discuss the way you alert me before you disappear for weeks at a time. The night before you go is not acceptable and I would like to have words with you about that.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that–”

“The next time you do that, I’m punching you and breaking your nose.”

He blinked, and then smirked. “Are you, now?”

“You bet I am.”

You knew you should be offended by the way he laughed at you, but you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. It had been a while since you’d heard that laughter coming straight from him.

It was nice.

And you were glad that you were getting the opportunity to hear it more. At least, you hoped you were. You just had to wait and see.

#writing: mine #writing: fanfic writings #written for: zixylixy #fandom: alex rider #alex rider fanfiction #oneshot #alex rider

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