#and that ill have a better high if i wait until the weekend instead of just doing it whenever

[mpregwizard]

you absolutely can get addicted to things other than drugs because somehow out of the two things i was doing two weeks ago the one i cant stop thinking about and have to keep myself from doing at all hours of the day is not the edibles but watching yuri on ice

[rwprincess]

Stacked (BenderxFem!Reader --Smut--)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: A good girl has gone bad for Bender. BenderxFem!Reader smut, in the library, as the only two in detention.

CW: No plot, only smut; semi-public sex (p in v with condom); virgin!reader; fingering (f receiving); some breast play; pet names: honey, good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets; mild degredation (verbal); weed mention

You probably would have categorized yourself as a ‘good girl’ before that fateful Saturday of March 24th, albeit one who slipped up just enough to land yourself in that Saturday Detention in the first place. You had made it through most of your high school career without feigning illness to stay home or cutting class, but oh no, the one time you decided to skip was the time you would get caught. It felt like the universe was conspiring against you when Vernon caught you and your two friends sneaking back onto campus through one of the back doors in the East Wing. It was like he knew you had all gone out and was just waiting for you to come crawling back. You immediately lamented to yourself that you should have never let your friends convince you to play hooky, that your life would be over and you’d be suspended for sure. You consider yourself lucky to have only earned Saturday school and had arrived that morning ready to pay your penance and return to your title of ‘good girl.’ That is, until you met John Bender. Since then, you tried everything in your power to toe the line to get as many Saturday Detention slips as possible, knowing he’d be there.

There was just something about him that drew you in, like a spell had been cast over you or something. You knew you should have been disgusted and horrified by the things he said to Claire, but your instinctive side made you feel prickly and hot instead as he questioned her, “Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, your shoes off, hoping to God your parents don’t walk in?” Your brain took it as more of a suggestion and you immediately imagined Bender doing just that to you, while you’d card your hands through his long, soft brown hair. You were sure your breath audibly hitched but he didn’t seem to notice, his predatory stare locked on Claire as she swallowed hard and answered, “Do you want me to puke?” Of course, she hid her desire better than you did. Or at least, outwardly protested. But that didn’t stop her from getting to Bender by the end of the day and you had never felt the fiery jealousy that broiled in the pit of your stomach until you saw her kiss him and hand him one of her earrings.

There was just something about him, the way he spoke terrible, filthy things, yet it was coupled with a sweet vulnerable side that you couldn’t resist. You kept your distance at first, flippantly dismissing it as a whirlwind crush…at least for that week or so that he was ‘dating’ Claire. It didn’t take long before that fizzled out, though, and your pangs for Bender came back full-force. It was easy to make it seem like a coincidence those first few Saturdays, “Oh, God, I can’t believe Vernon found me cutting class again,” you’d lie. But John was always one step ahead in reading people and figured you out soon enough.

“You again?” He smirked, walking into the library on one warm April Saturday.

“What can I say? I’m spiraling out of control.” You grinned in response, delighted by his attention…and the fact that it seemed to be just you two this time.

“Mhmm. What are you in for this time?” He questioned, making himself comfortable in his seat next to you at his table. You knew where he always sat and maybe just happened to choose the chair next to his, incidentally, of course.

“Smoking.” You say quickly, quietly. Which spoke volumes to your desire to come here, to see him and spend another weekend with him.

“I’ll say.” He eyed you up and down, making your cheeks turn red before you were interrupted by Vernon coming to berate the two of you. Of course, this was one of John’s pre-assigned detentions from when you first met him. Which retort had earned him this one? ‘Oh, I’m crushed’ or maybe ‘Not even close, bud!’, you wondered while biting back a smile at the memory. You loved the way he stood up to Vernon. It had concerned you a bit at the time, as both escalated and became louder, but it also thrilled you to see him question Vernon’s overinflated sense of authority.

“This should not be your role model, Y/N,” Vernon started to come to a close, indicating John, “If you don’t clean up your act, you’ll just be a female Bender.” 

You scoffed in response, “Promise?” You raised a challenging eyebrow and heard Bender snort, only encouraging you more. 

“Watch it, missy.” He addressed you again, slapping down a worksheet that all of you knew wouldn’t get done, but at least he seemed to have learned his lesson with the ‘essays’ after Brian told him where to shove it, courtesy of The Breakfast Club. He exited in a huff and Bender turned toward you.

“You know, he’s right,” he tutted, clicking his tongue in mock-disapproval, “you’re really going to the dark side. Skipping class and now smoking? I don’t know what to do with ya, kid.”   ‘I have some ideas,’ you thought, silently, while eyeing him. “Tell me, did you just have enough of being perfect all the time, or are you just here to see me?” He grinned deviously, trying to tease you, to get a rise out of you. However, he didn’t know that you were committed to the idea of being with him, to putting all the worry and shame behind you. You’d spent enough time here to repel the shackles of conformity and caring, you were ready to flirt shamelessly and see where that led you.

“Little bit of column A, a little from column B,” you admitted, taking pride in the resulting flustered expression from Bender. It was clear he didn’t expect this change from you. While he sat gaping at you like a fish, you stood up and confidently strode away, knowing Vernon wouldn’t be back unless there was some type of commotion. You sat down, leaning against a shelf of books knowing that Bender would eventually come to you and smirked at the thought.

It didn't take long for your plan to have the desired effect: Bender couldn't resist having attention and someone to talk to, after all. What was he going to do, his assignment? No, you knew he wouldn't let Vernon win. He tried to seem nonchalant about it, as if he were just coming over and actually selecting a book and oh my, you just happened to be here! You half-smirked in victory as he took a seat on the floor next to you.

“So what, pray tell, has brought you here today? I mean, I know the literal cause is for smoking, but I want to know the psychology of it. What made Shermer High’s resident good-girl go down this dark path? How did you,of all people, decide to go bad?” He asked, lowering his voice to a husky tone that left an inching heat between your thighs.

“Hmmm,” you hummed lightly in response, his eyes snapping up to your face while they had previously drifted down. “It’s kind of a secret. Do you want to know?” you lowered your tone conspiratorially, then leaned in towards him after he nodded. Your whispering breath tickled the shell of his ear as you admitted, “You. You are what changed and why I’m here today.” You pulled back and gave him a sickly sweet smile, amused by his responsive gulp.

“Was being innocent always an act, then? You seem like you can just turn it off and on, the way you smiled just now.” 

“Hmm, no.” You giggled in response. “It’s just that…when I met you, I found out that being perfect and preppy wasn’t the only way to live. I was so nervous that first day and thought I’d ruined my life. And then I met you. You were just so cool and didn’t overly care what people think.”

“It comes at a price, you know.”

“All of your Saturdays for all eternity, apparently.” You shrugged.

“It’s more than that,” he looked down at the ground. “I’m not exactly Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.”

“No, I know that,” you replied, “but you’re more free than anyone I know. They all have sticks up their butts.” You said and he laughed. “Plus, I’d be interested in changing that, in making you happy.” You bit your lip, looking up at him with what you hoped was a meaningful expression…that he’d take the hint. 

He seemed to understand what you were implying because his eyebrows shot up. “What--What exactly are you proposing here?” He asked, taken aback. You had seemed as inexperienced as Claire and Allison when he had met you, and he didn’t think that had changed in the last month or so…unless you were lying in the first place.

“John,” you looked at him directly in the eye as you placed a hand gently on his thigh, “that’s up to you really, isn’t it?”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, meeting your stare. He was almost afraid to make the first move, scared that you would reveal it was all a joke at his expense, that it would all end in utter humiliation. But you just batted your long, dark lashes at him and gave that thigh a gentle squeeze, causing him to throw caution to the wind. He quickly grasped your face between his hands and kissed you, roughly. You let out a light moan to encourage him, and he moved his right hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and holding you near.

His lips were surprisingly soft against yours and his years of experience showed. You instantly repaid each of his kisses with your own, leaning forward into him, and bracing one of his wrists, wrapping around it with your hand. The way your lips moved in tandem, synching with your desires and your heart beats only made this feel more right. You obliged his curious tongue as it swept along your lip, begging to explore your mouth. You parted your lips softly, your breath intermingling with Bender’s. You broke the kiss a few moments later, pulling back, out of breath. Bender began kicking himself internally, fearing that he’d crossed a line or that you would finally reveal that you were just messing with him. He looked away, dejectedly, but you didn’t let him keep the wrong idea for long. You repositioned yourself and began to climb into his lap. He whipped his head back up, brown irises and pupils growing wide at your bold stance. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. You eased yourself down, your hips resting snugly against his own, pressing your chest into his.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?” You smirked down at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting them along his broad shoulders. “Honey, I think we’re just getting started.” Sure, you lacked experience, but after you drank in that first kiss, you were hooked and didn’t want to---no, couldn’t stop now. You needed more, even though you weren’t sure how far that extended yet. At this present moment, you were willing to fuck Bender in the library today, right here amongst the stacks. In fact, you were kind of hoping for it, but you didn’t wholly want to push your luck. For now, you connected your lips back to Bender’s, thrusting your tongue into his mouth, desperate for the sensation of your tongue colliding with his. The soft pinks flexed against each other as you threaded your fingers through his hair, running your nails softly along his scalp. 

Bender tried to have some restraint. It’s the thought that counts, right? He didn’t want to move too fast or make any assumptions. At first, he had his hands along your face, then arms. He pinned them next to your waist and gave tentative squeezes as you deepened your kisses, but he could only resist for so long and needed to test the waters. He slid his hands down to your butt and pulled you forward, up along his lap, just a bit. You hummed appreciatively against his lips, and he took this as a good sign. He dug his fingers into the meat of your ass, massaging the dough and muscle there. His touch made you instinctively roll your hips forward, the sharp bones digging into him and creating an aching friction. He groaned as you pulled away and started to kiss down his jaw to the tender skin of his neck. “Are you---sure---you want this?” He panted out, trying to regain his breathing from your previous kisses to his lips. You only answered with a gentle tug to his hair, pulling his head back just enough to give you more access to the crook of his neck and his collarbone. Another lust-filled groan left his lips, urging you to continue. You could feel your desire dampening your clothed core, causing you to give another roll of your hips, which in turn caused Bender to buck upwards. Combined with his tight grip on your behind, you could feel the straining bulge growing beneath you, yearning to touch you. You smirked into his neck before you pulled back, stopping all sensation. You almost could have sworn you heard him whine in protest.

“You’re surprisingly quiet,” you mused. “I thought for sure you would have a million filthy things to say.”

"Honestly, I'm still a little in shock that this is actually happening," he confided, opening up in a rare moment of vulnerability. "You have no idea how much I've thought about this. About you. I'm not convinced it isn't a dream."

"Mm. Something to pass the time in another lonely Saturday detention?" You purred in response, tightening the grasp on his shoulders.

"Yeah," he licked his lips, eyes scanning your face and lowering down your body, "something like that." 

"Don't worry, baby, it's real." You chuckled darkly, bending to kiss his neck again, "and I think I have some idea how much you've thought about this," you ground down against him, indicating your awareness of his hardness, but also added, "because I've thought about you, too. Every. Night." The implication had his mind racing and he gripped you fiercely, placing a rough kiss to your lips. 

He couldn't contain himself much longer, and wanted to oblige your fantasies as well. His hands roamed your body with intense fervor. His touches were no longer hesitant, they came to you with a needy, almost bruising force. He palmed your breasts over your shirt, before squeezing them harshly, causing you to let out a mewling whine. "Please, John. More," you panted in response. His deft hands quickly slid up your shirt, eager to please, and snaked under the silky fabric of your bra. He relished in the warm squish of your skin and plucked one of your nipples between his index and middle fingers, sliding it down into the curve between. "Yes," you whispered in a high-pitched moan, which crumbled to a deep and gravely tone as Bender's teeth sank into your neck. 

He started to unleash his other hand, trailing down your stomach to the button of your jeans. When you didn't protest, he clicked them open quietly, tugging the zipper down gently. He dipped his hand into the spot he had made available, feeling you over your panties. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he groaned against your ear.

"It's cuz I want you … s'bad." You whined in response, desperate for him to touch you, to give you some kind of relief. 

"You're sure?" He asked. He still wasn't entirely certain of your level of experience, even though you were matching him on-par at this point. He was impressed, but still wary that you would call a stop to it, or regret it later. He'd been in those situations enough times. 

"You were just commenting on how wet I am. For you," you pointed out, "please, Bender, don't be a tease." You mocked him slightly, knowing he thought all girls were teases instead. He gave you a gruff growl in response and slipped his fingers wordlessly into your underwear, using the slick from your folds to coat two of his fingers. He slid them into you, easily, causing an electric shock of desire to jolt through your whole body. It was so different from the touches you had administered to yourself while thinking of him. So much better. 

"Don't ever think that John Bender doesn't deliver, sweetheart," he grumbled against the skin of your neck, making sure he was close enough to your ear for you to hear him. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, aroused by his commentary. "Mm, you like that? You like when I call you 'sweetheart?' Or do you just like having my fingers inside you, fucking into you?" He asked, amused. You nodded quickly, which made him chuckle in return, "Well, which is it?" 

"Both." You replied, then moaned loudly as he flexed his fingers in you. 

"God, I love hearing that. Don't hold back, sweetheart. Keep moaning for me. I'll make it worth your while." He said, and you weren't sure what he meant, exactly, but you were eager to find out, so you let out another low moan to encourage him. He delighted you by adding another layer, an insistent thumb that brought circles to your clit, increasing your pleasure tenfold. 

"Mmf! Fuck!" You breathed, arching your back, pushing your hips forward into his touch. "Yes, John. Just like that. Please." 

"Mm. Where did that controlling girl go? Now you're so needy and begging for it." He smirked.

"Shh," you hushed his criticism and bent forward to kiss him hungrily, tiny breathy moans escaping from the seal of your lips as your orgasm started to build. You bucked against him, riding his hand to seek your high, hands now tangling in his hair. You pulled back to whisper, "I'm so close, John. Please. Please make me cum."

"I told you, baby. I always deliver." He quickened his motions to bring you over the edge and you called his name, feeling it echo in the otherwise silent library. He stroked you a couple more times before slowly pulling his fingers away, letting you come down. "If you think you can stand, I wanna show you even more." He raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded, complying immediately. He was right, your bold nature was gone, replaced by a submissive nature that only focused on the desire for more. You stood up quickly, awaiting directions. "Turn around and grab the shelf." He commanded, climbing to his feet, giving an amused huff of a laugh when he saw how quickly you obeyed. He rummaged around in his wallet for a moment, procuring a condom and holding it in front of your face while he stood behind you, close enough that you could feel his erection brush against your ass. "I want to fuck you. Is that alright, sweetheart?" 

"God, please, yes." You rubbed your ass against him, seeking friction and he laughed again. He tugged at your bottoms, shaking them down your thighs in preparation, then pulling his own down. You heard the rip in the foil and gulped. You were still keen to do this, you needed him inside of you, but your heart pounded in fear and you paused for a moment. "John? I've…I've never done this before. Please, take it easy on me." You confessed and felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. 

"Mm. With how good you've been, you could have fooled me." He mused, running a hand down your side, making you shiver. He leaned forward and you could feel his chest pressed against your back as he nudged his chin onto your shoulder. "Don't worry, sweets. I'll take good care of you." He purred back. Yours was not the first virginity that John Bender had claimed, and you were pretty presumptive of that fact. "Bend forward just a little more," he recommended, and you complied. "Good girl," he hummed, making you feel another wave of wetness flood your core. 

He grasped himself in one hand and led his controlled tip against your folds, allowing your arousal to lubricate the condom as he ran it down the shaft. "I'll go nice and slow, baby. I won't hurt you…unless you want me to." You pressed back against him, his words making you feel anguished for contact. He laughed lightly at the effect he had on you, and gently grabbed your hips to steady you. "You ready, sweets?" He asked and you nodded vigorously before feeling him enter you, stretching your walls slowly to accommodate him. It wasn't painful, but a bit uncomfortable as he inched his way in. You'd never felt so full before and it was definitely something you had to get adjusted to. He was slow and patient, as promised, letting you get used to each bit of him before adding more. "You doing alright?" He asked and you nodded. "Good, 'cuz you are so fucking tight, I wasn't sure," he growled and you instantly felt dizzy with desire. He finally had reached the hilt, having pushed all the way into you. "I'm gonna start moving. I wanna fuck you, okay, baby? You tell me if anything doesn't feel right." 

You nodded again and let out a pathetic, "Please, fuck me, John," that made him want to turn feral, but he remembered his promise. He'd take it easy on you…this time. 

He pulled back and gently reinserted himself. "You drive me fucking wild, saying shit like that. You know that?" He asked and you mewled at the feeling of him filling you back up, gripping the bookshelf just a bit tighter. "All you ever had to do was ask, sweetheart. I've been dying to fuck you six ways from Sunday since we've met. You're so, so pretty," he started to pick up the pace with his words, withdrawing and then pressing back into you, "with those big eyes and their fuck-me stare. I was hoping you wanted me. That I wasn't just imagining it. I thought, oh no, a good girl like that can't be into me. Too innocent. Too sweet. But I was wrong, wasn't I? Deep down, you're just as filthy as me. Begging to be fucked in the library? Because you have detention for smoking? My, my." There was that dirty talk you longed for. 

"Mm, yes. I wanted you so bad. From day one, John. I---" you gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, "had to have you." He pulled out and plowed back in with a renewed force, spurred on by your sultry confessions. You moaned and dropped your head forward, feeling your legs beginning to quake. It was so hard to keep yourself upright while he talked to you the way he did, and while he fucked into you with unbridled desire, possibly as strong as yours. You began to see stars as he brought one of his hands around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit. You could feel heat radiating off him as his chest pressed against your back, tightly fucking into you and keeping the perfect pressure on the sensitive bud. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, groaning his name. 

"Yes baby, take it just like that and say my name. Fuck, you feel so good."

"Jesus, Bender. You feel even better. I'm close."

"Ohh yeah, baby. Cum on me. Cum while my dick is buried deep in that tight little pussy. Make me cum for you." He grunted out between thrusts, making your head spin and your body lose control. With a final loud moan, your walls clenched around him in your release. 

"Fuck, fuck, John! S'good. Please cum for me, baby. I want you to feel good, too." You muttered, feeling nonsensical in your words, but he still responded.

"Don't worry, sweets. You're making me feel amazing. Won't be much longer, with a pussy this tight and good. I'm almost there. Hold on, hold---" he couldn't finish his thought as he reached his climax as well, digging his fingers into your hips with a bruising force, snapping his own hips up to chase the sensation of his high and you cried out at the sudden burst of friction, taking him deeper in than before. He stilled for a moment, catching his breath and coming back down to reality, surprised to still find you there and to know this wasn't just another wet dream, his subconscious reminding him of what he couldn't have.

He kissed the side of your neck before pulling out of you all too quickly, the fullness replaced by emptiness. You immediately pouted, glad you were turned away from him so he couldn't see the effect he had on you. He was zipping up as you stopped to pull your own pants back up your legs. 

"That was…amazing. Jesus Christ, Y/N, you've been holding out on me," he teased and you pushed him gently. "Ho hum, what to do with all these hours left?" He asked with a smirk.

"I could think of one or two things," you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I do need some time to recuperate," he said, pulling a baggie of weed from his front pocket, "you down with just this for now?" He offered.

"Whatever you want, sweets." You purred at him, kissing him on the cheek. 

[ericspinkhair]

unexpectedly becoming a sugar baby

pairing: ceo!sunwoo x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: reader is desperate for money so she has sex with her boss

warnings: lots of oral and fingering, use of vibrator in public , office sex, sex for money

a/n: wrote this yesterday instead of studying for my final. the exam went well tho :) also please send in requests!!!

masterlist + requests

to say you were desperate would be an understatement. today you had received an eviction notice that stated that you had exactly 30 days to either pay back all the money you owed your landlord or leave your apartment.

due to your mother's illness you had to pay for all her medical bills. your father hadn't been in the picture for a long time so you alone were responsible for your mother's health. you couldn't just let her die. but because of all these costs you hadn't been able to pay your rent and now you were on the verge of homelessness.

never in a lifetime did you imagine that you would be begging someone for help. you felt so helpless that you honestly didn't really care how you got the money.

you decided to ask your boss for a raise and were prepared to work your ass off in order to get it.

mr. kim's office was on the fourth floor of the company, one you barely had ever been to. normal employees were usually only to be found on the lower floors so taking the elevator up felt wrong.

you were determined, however, to not let your pride get in the way. the money was more important than how you felt.

you knocked on the door twice. as if to make you feel even more nervous, it seemed like mr. kim waited extra long to respond.

when you entered he was sitting behind his desk. he didn't even look up at you so you just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

'why don't you just sit?' he finally asked annoyed and closed his laptop.

you quickly took a seat and tried to put up a professional front.

'what can I do for you, um…' 'y/n,' you helped him out. 'right, y/n. what can I do for you?' he asked.

'I would like to ask for a raise, sir. you see, I am usually the first employee to enter the building and also most of the time the last one to leave. I do my work reliably and deliver solid results. my coworkers are pleased with me and we also get along well. I think I contribute a lot to this company and wanted to ask whether it would be possible to raise my pay.' you really tried to not make it seem like you had simply memorized all of this and forced yourself to speak slowly but firmly while looking him in the eyes.

mr. kim didn't respond at first but opened his laptop.

'to my understanding you have been working here for a very long time already. your pay is already the highest it can get. there is no way for me to raise it because there is no room for improvement.' he sighed and waited for your reaction.

you started sweating. this wasn't going as planned. you hadn't known that you were already receiving the highest pay. you were barely able to afford food with your current money.

'please, sir. I will do anything you ask of me. I don't care how many extra hours I'd have to work. I can do it. I promise. please give me a chance,' you begged him.

he was intrigued by you. why were you so desperate for the money?

'first, why don't you tell me why you are so keen on a raise?'

was your boss even allowed to ask you such personal questions? you answered anyway.

'my mother has cancer. I am the only person paying for her medical expenses and the treatments are all very expensive. I am about to get evicted because I cannot pay my rent.'

he seemed to be deep in thought. his gaze on you was intense.

your heart skipped a beat when he placed his hand on yours.

'y/n, I'm extremely sorry that you have to deal with all of this. I wouldn't want anyone to have to experience the same thing. believe me when I tell you that I want to help you. you know what? come back tomorrow. I have an idea how I might be able to help but I need to think about it further. would that be alright for you?'

it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. you didn't care about what you had to do. you stood up, bowed deeply and thanked him over and over.

he let out a deep chuckle. you were cute.

the next day you came back again in the afternoon. this time he answered the door quicker and his attention was focused on you from the start. the energy felt much different than the day before. he seemed excited and was smiling at you. this had to mean good news, right? he shook your hand and pressed firmly while looking you deep in the eyes.

'y/n, I came up with an idea to help you. but it is less conventional and it depends on how much you are willing to do.'

'mr. kim, I will do anything,' you assured him. the smirk he flashed you threw you off guard.

'okay then. first, I'd prefer it if you called me sunwoo as we'll be seeing more of each other if you were to agree.'

this lowkey felt like crossing some boundaries but you wanted to please him.

you nodded eagerly. 'okay, sunwoo it is.'

'so my idea is that there are certain things you can do to earn money. I will pay for everything with my own savings and you will receive it in cash. we will start off easy and over time I'll add new tasks. of course, you have the freedom to choose whether you want to do them or not. that is completely up to you.'

the look of confusion on your face must have told him you didn't fully understand.

'it's hard to explain. I'd rather you figure it out by trying it. since today is friday, the task I'll give you is for monday. I would like to choose an outfit for you. I'll send it to your apartment and you have to wear exactly what is inside the box. if you were to do this I'd give you $20 cash.'

that was a weird request. why would he want to decide what you were wearing? did he not like your outfit? did you look disgusting?

'let me get this straight. you pick an outfit for me and if I decide to wear it I get money?' you ask him to see if you had understood correctly.

'exactly. that doesn't seem so bad, right?' you shook your head. it was whatever.

'that's great. you'll receive your outfit and I can't wait to see you in it on monday.' you didn't know if you were imagining it but it seemed like he was eyeing your body. h god, he definitely didn't like what you were wearing.

$20 wasn't much but still more than nothing. and apparently the other tasks would be worth more. guess you had to start somewhere. with the money you could at least afford something to eat.

you say goodbye and continued with work until it was time to leave.

you waited anxiously all weekend for the clothes. sunday you decided to go for a walk and when you opened your door you almost tripped over a package.

on monday morning you tried on the outfit sunwoo had picked out for you.

the white blouse was a bit see through and a bit too tight around the boob area but looked neat otherwise. the black skirt hugged your curves perfectly and made you look quite sexy in your opinion. he even picked out a bra, underwear, stockings and high heels for you. the note he had left clearly stated to wear exactly and only what was in the box. so you did.

you usually wore something more simple and loose but you didn't feel too uncomfortable in this look.

when you entered his office his eyes lit up.

'I'm glad you wore this. it looks very good on you.'

you were sure you blushed a bit at his words. you weren't really used to receiving compliments from men.

'I like it too,' you admit. sunwoo smiled contentedly.

'so would you like to do the same tomorrow? I'll send you another outfit,' he asked you.

this one wasn't bad at all so you agreed. he handed you $20. when you stood up and walked out the door he couldn't stop admiring the way your butt looked in the skirt. tomorrow was going to be even better.

the blouse was almost the same one. however, this time the skirt was a lot shorter. it ended at the middle of your thighs. but that wasn't even the weirdest thing. this time he had forgotten to send you panties.

you felt very unsure what to do. the note clearly stated to only wear what was in the box.

you sighed and pulled down the skirt as much as you could. this would have to do. as long as you were just sitting, everything would be fine.

you went about your day and some time in the afternoon you were called into sunwoo's office.

you were wondering whether or not to tell him about the missing underwear but decided to keep your mouth closed. panties didn't seem to be a topic to talk about with your boss.

'today, I want to offer you an additional task. you will receive your $20 dollars for sure and you can make another 30 by cleaning my office. what do you think?' he proposed to you.

that would be $50 in total. you needed all the money you could get.

'of course. just tell me what to clean and I will be happy to help.'

everything was going according to sunwoo's plan. he was excited and told you you could start by dusting the shelves.

your eagerness was cute and he watched you out of the corner of his eyes.

some of the shelves were higher up so you had to stretch to be able to reach them. when you did your skirt rolled up higher and he was able to see the just the outline of your butt cheeks. he unconsciously licked his lips.

for the rest of the week you continued these two tasks. but you noticed that the underwear kept on missing and the skirts also progressively became shorter.

this was a struggle when you were cleaning and organizing his office. you were aware of your skirt rolling up and you were hoping that sunwoo wouldn't notice.

of course he did. that had been his intention all along. when you bent down he could sometimes get a glance at your pretty pussy. he couldn't help but get hard at the sight of this and palmed his bulge through his pants.

in one week you had received $220. you would have been more happy if you hadn't gotten another bill from the hospital asking you for another $1200. the health care system was simply fucked up. whatever the next tasks were, you had to do them.

on monday you were cleaning his office again. you wanted to pick up some files but you struggled reaching them from the highest shelf. you felt your skirt roll up again.

'wait. I'll help you,' sunwoo announced and walked over.

you gasped as you felt something hard poke your thigh as he stood behind you to reach for the files. when he took a step back you saw the clear outlines of his hardened cock.

unable to hide your surprise, sunwoo laughed.

'this is all your doing.' so he did notice your skirt roll up. wait. had he given you these clothes with this in mind?

'do you want to touch it?' he asked.

you just blinked at him. what? were you perhaps still dreaming? it was possible that you were having a wet dream about your boss. sunwoo was very handsome and you had to be blind not to notice.

'if you help me get rid of it, I'll promise you $100.' he knew you were thinking hard. you couldn't keep your eyes off his bulge, clearly not sure what to think of this.

this was against all the work protocols but you would kid yourself if you said that you didn't want to. not only was he very attractive but you'd do a lot for a mere $100.

you reached for his belt. sunwoo smirked; he had won.

you pulled his pants down and were immediately greeted with his veiny cock.

'you aren't the only one not wearing any underwear, my dear y/n.'

so that had been intentional. interesting. you realized you must have been very naive to have believed that he had simply forgotten to put panties in the boxes.

you started by rubbing the tip softly with your thumb. it was pretty and pink and already leakined pre-cum.

you felt strangely good about having this kind of effect on someone. with a few pumps his dick was completely hard.

sunwoo propped his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back in bliss.

deep moans were escaping his beautifully luscious lips while you were pleasuring him with your hands.

you decided to put your left hand you use as well by massaging his balls.

'fuck! when did you learn to do this so well?' sunwoo groaned.

during high school you had had a lot of sex. it made you feel good and you enjoyed it. now your experience turned out to be lifesaving to you. well, he'd probably pay you even if you weren't as mind blowing.

'hmm, practice,' you simply state.

'if this is already so good I wonder what your mouth can do, baby girl.' being called that aroused you way more than expected. this was so exciting.

'I'll give you another $100 if you suck me off.'

before sunwoo knew it you had already wrapped your lips around his cock. you skillfully bobbed your head up and down. when you looked up at him with big eyes he swore he was about to explode.

with most of the dick in your mouth your other hand was continuing to knead his balls.

he was coming close quickly and grabbed your hair so you would stay still.

he proceeded to fuck your mouth harshly. you felt spit running down the sides of your lips and tears escaping your eyes as he buried his cock deep in your mouth. you tried to relax in order to deep-throat him properly.

he came hard and emptied his load in your mouth. to prove a point, you swallowed it and then opened up to show him.

panting hard he said: 'fuck you're just amazing!'

you looked absolutely delicious with your face full of cum. he had a good feeling you were the right person to do this with.

you licked off some of the white liquid from your lips and smirked at him.

this was definitely not what you had expected what you would be doing but you weren't one to complain.

sunwoo quickly disappeared to search for some paper towels to clean your face. his employees couldn't see you like this.

after your face was clean again he handed you $250. 'you deserve it.' 'thanks.'

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned closer. 'maybe we can do more tomorrow.' ooh, sounds exciting.

'then I'll look forward to seeing you.' with a wink you left.

you wondered how much money you would get for some sexy time with your boss.

the next morning, you couldn't fully button up the blouse he had sent you. the top buttons had to be left open and a lot of cleavage was visible. this horndog!

this time you actually received some underwear but only for a special reason. you found a pink mini vibrator in the box as well.

so you were walking around with a vibrating stick up your pussy. you didn't want to come in front of your co-workers so you turned it off whenever you got too close and waited to calm down.

'did you have fun today?' was the first thing sunwoo said to you.

you laughed ironically. 'I had so much fun pretending I wasn't being masturbating in front of everyone…'

he made you turn around and lifted up your skirt. the outline of the vibrator was visible and he could see your panties shaking.

with one quick move he pulled your underwear down and took the vibrator to turn it off. it came out with a wet plop and juices were running down your thighs.

sunwoo surprised you by sucking on the wet vibrator.

'sit on the desk,' he commanded you.

you did as you were told and sunwoo spread your legs wide apart.

he inserted his index and middle finger which slipped in with ease. your pussy made wet noises as he pushed them in and out of you.

finally having privacy you allowed yourself to make sounds. he made intense eye contact while fingering you, loving the way your face was scrunched up in pleasure.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and started kissing him. his tongue easily won the fight over dominance and started exploring your mouth.

you two were basically just sucking each others faces off until he broke off the kiss and lowered his body. he attached his mouth to your clit and started sucking. you pulled at his hair in pleasure and had a hard time controlling your breathing. damn, he was skilled at this as well.

when he felt you clenching around his fingers he withdrew them and you let out a disappointed noise of protest.

'don't worry. you'll have more soon.', he laughed at you. he quickly took off his pants and pulled you off the desk. he turned you around so your ass was facing him.

he started rubbing his thick cock between your ass cheeks and coated it in your juices. every time he got into contact with your tense pussy a shudder overcame your body.

he lifted your leg and placed your foot on the table. the angle from when he thrusted into you from behind was just perfect.

sunwoo attached his lips onto your neck and started leaving hickeys there. at the same time he was kneading your breast through your shirt.

he had barely ever felt such a perfect pussy around his cock. the way you took him in seemed too good to be true.

while his dick was still inside you, he lifted you up and placed you on all fours on the floor.

he grabbed your hips so tightly that he left red marks on them. at this point, he was just uncontrollably slamming into you while you were losing your mind. you were screaming his name loudly, glad that you knew no one could hear you.

as you could feel both of you getting close, he pulled your upper body up to his chest and wrapped one hand around your neck.

the pressure he applied was just enough for you to see stars but not enough for it to be unpleasant.

the lack of oxygen stimulated your senses even more and while repeatedly screaming out sunwoo's name you finally came hard on his dick.

with a few more thrusts, sunwoo's hips started stuttering as well and he shot his load into you. while riding out your highs he was just fucking his cum right back into you.

when he finally pulled out, a pool of his semen started dripping out of you. you suddenly felt so empty. his thick cock had filled you up so good that you were already missing it.

while you were still catching your breath on the floor, sunwoo had gone to get paper towels.

when he came back, however, he seemed hectic.

'I'm so sorry. there has been an emergency and I need to leave right now. I'll leave these here as well as the money.' he placed everything on the desk and walked back to the door.

he turned around one last time. 'I hope we can do this again.' he smiled at you.

you later saw that he had left you $750.

kind of becoming a sugar baby had never been your plan but you didn't mind it. if only the circumstances had been better.

[lonelyl00n]

Je T'aime | Yandere! Joy

Summary: When your childhood bully won't let go of you.

Warning: manipulation, abuse of power, controlling relationship, jealousy, mention of killing

wc: 1.5K

This is was inspired by my favorite song Je T'aime by Hey. When I found out that Joy did a cover of that song, I got the creativity to create this. I wanted to get all of this out of my head, so it may feel a bit rushed in some areas.

You were in the library when you felt someone put their hands over your eyes. “Guess Who?”

“Hmmm.” You joked as you tapped your finger on your chin. “Is it…Namjoon?”

Your eyes were uncovered the second you said that. You laughed at Joy’s angry expression. “I told you not to mention him.”

“Sorry, sorry. What brings you here.”

“What do you mean what brings me here? It’s our night out.” Joy gasps.

“I’m sorry Joy, I don’t think I can do it tonight. Namjoon was supposed to be tutoring me, but I’ve been waiting for like thirty minutes.”

“I’m one of the smartest kids in the school. I’m in the Top 10 you know. Why didn’t you ask me?” Joy pouted.

You laughed at her outburst. “First of all, your parents would sue the school if you weren’t in Top 10, so that doesn’t really mean much.”

Joy's father was the CEO of a famous luxury brand, while her mom is a retired actress who was popular in the late 80's and 90's. Her parents had more money than you and your family could ever dream of. Growing up bouncing around from different relative’s basements made a lot of the kids at school growing up, make fun of you.

Especially Joy.

In 4th grade, is when she would begin to make your life a living hell. She would steal your lunch money and give you foods that she knew you were allergic to. She would constantly call you fat and make rude comments about you to her friends.

It got worse in 10th grade, when she made an announcement over the PA system that whoever talked, touched, or even looked at you would get beat up. She bought you and her matching rings at cost more than $1000, and would make you wear it all the time. She bought you clothes, gave you money, and even managed to convince her parents to buy your family an apartment with three bedrooms and a balcony.

 She basically owned you. You weren’t allowed to go out on the weekends because of her security guards guarding your apartment door. When you did try to leave the apartment, which you never succeeded, you would be taken by the guards to the Park Mansion and have to sit on Joy’s lap as you two watched a movie, as punishment.

You hated the power she had, you always did, she even forced you to go to the same college that she was going to, by threatening to hurt your Aunt Irene.

You reluctantly agreed to her ‘idea’, not wanting to hurt your family members that helped your family so much.

So now you followed Joy around the campus like a little puppy, while everyone else thought that you guys were just close friends who liked being near each other.

“And second of all.” you continued. “We are supposed to be working on a project together.”

Joy furrowed her eyebrows while thinking. A project? With a boy?! She thought she had already told all of your professors to not give you any partners at all. Especially a boy.

“I know what your thinking.” Y/N claimed, seeing the looked on Joy’s face. “But we went to London for a whole month, and this was a month-long project. I can’t do it alone.”

“Fine, then I’ll help you.” Joy suggested.

“But Namjoon has to get this grade too.”

“Why do you worry about other people so much, come on let’s just start this.”

You and Joy spent all night, researching, printing, and decorating your poster board. By the time you guys were finished it was 2 a.m.

“Well, that was quicker than I expected. I guess I’ll have to make a new reservation for tomorrow.” Joy sighed. “Let’s go home.” She said as she intertwined your hands and walke out the library.

As part of the deal, Joy had you move into a luxury 2-bedroom apartment that was about an hour away from campus. Joy demanded insisted that you shouldn’t use public transportation anymore because now, with the help of her money, you were worth a lot. Throughout your high school experience, Joy never let you get a driver’s license, so she has the pleasure of driving you to and from campus, always knowing your whereabouts.

You looked out the car window without having anything to do. As punishment for talking to a boy, Joy had taken your phone claiming that the only person you needed to talk to was always right beside you. “What do you want to eat.” She asked you.

“McDonald’s.” You say robotically. McDonald’s was the only fast food place that Joy allowed you to eat. It was the place she found your family at in 10th grade.

It was on a rainy day that your Aunt Irene had kicked you, your parents, and your little brother out of her basement for being a burden, which you didn’t understand because just a week ago your Aunt had said you all staying there was the best thing to happen for her since her illness was starting to worsen.

So, with no where to go and barely any money, your parents took you all to McDonald’s to split one box of 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 4 small drinks for each member of the family.

As you were told by Joy, her family's trailer had broken down on the way back home from the airport, so Joy offered to walk to the nearest building while her parents berated the driver. The nearest place just so happened to be the McDonald’s you and your family were at.

You instantly recognized Joy when she walked through the door, just like how Joy instantly recognized you. She sat a table across from the booth your family was at, and pulled out her phone. Gosh, were you so amazed. You had never had a phone before. Your parents only had one that they shared, and you didn’t have friends (because of Joy’s rules) to let you use theirs. Joy smiled at you awe-filled eyes and continued talking on the phone.

You didn’t even realize that you were staring at her until your mom slapped your wrist and told you to stop. When the phone call ended, Joy stood up and walked towards your table. You looked at the ground, afraid that she too would scold you. “Hello L/N’s. I’m Park Sooyoung.” She started. You heard a gasp in front of you and looked at your parents, who were looking at the entrance doors. A tall man wearing a suit, and a woman carrying a Chanel bag. Walked through the door.

Joy looked back and laughed. “Oh, those are my parents.” They came up to your booth, both shoke hands your parents and stood behind Joy. ”We wanted to give your family a place to stay, would you let us.” You mother, being the biggest fan of Joy’s mother growing up instantly nodded, while your father thought about it for a few seconds before evening his Wife’s beautiful smile. A smile he hadn’t seen since their wedding day. He agreed as well.

That night was significant to you because not only did your family get a place to reside, but it was also the first time that Joy was nice to you. Since that day she started treated you better, still not letting you talk to anyone else, but she was nice.

Although Joy would never tell you this, it was that night that she fell in love with you, completely.

After eating. You and Joy got into the bed that you two shared. Yes there were two bedrooms in your apartment, but you couldn’t sleep in a room by yourself.

You had slept in a room with somebody your whole life, it felt uncomfortable. So on the first week of living here, you asked Joy if you could sleep with her, even okay with sleeping on the ground. Joy let you into her bed, and sang you to sleep.

That became your routine every night after that. However tonight was different, you feel asleep the minute you got into bed. Joy snuck out of the bed and turned you alarm off. You didn’t need to go to school tomorrow, you wouldn’t have time anyways. Her makeup crew that were going to come today were rescheduled to come tomorrow. The day she had been waiting for since that night was going to happen.

 All of you and her family members were going to be at that restaurant and would watch as she would get down on one knee, just like in the romance movies, and propose to you. Just thinking about tomorrow made her heart flutter. Yes, she was furious about the change of plans today, but she would never take it out on you. Instead, she took it out on that Namjoon guy behind the library. Ugh! Just thinking about him getting close to you was sickening. She had her men take care of his body for her.

She kissed your cheek and whispers in your ear, “I love you.”

Everything was set in her plan. She loved you, and you…would have no choice but to love her. You were hers after all. Hers to love.

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 2 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Winning the favour of the God of Mischief is not an easy task - even if he has already fallen for you.

Warnings: None.

Words: ~1600

A/N: Since I am writing several Series at once, together with Oneshots in between, the chapters are gonna be a bit shorter so I keep no one waiting. Hope that is alright!

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza​ @queenariesofnarnia​​ @commonintrest​​ @buckylokisimp​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @lxdyred @frostay​​​​

The first weeks after your arrival at the Avengers Compound passed by rather uneventful.

Due to the fact that you neither had a family you could be attached to, nor many belongings ever since HYDRA had kidnapped you and destroyed your home, Tony insisted on you living at the tower - like many of the other members as well.

Everything was just so new and exciting, not even Loki’s gleeful mockery could bring you down from that high.

Little did you know that all of his pep talks about those ‘inferior heros’, the ‘illusion of power’ or how no one was ever truly good or evil had a completely different reason:

An attempt to get you to leave, for your own good. After everything that had happened to you, the god was worried how another fight would affect you.

Anyway, it was a luxurious life compared to your old one, with so many kind persons and new perspectives. And you were sure to return that favor once you’d learn to control your powers!

So until then, you would train as hard as possible and care for your new friends through little acts of service. Caring for others came quite natural to you, may it be listening to their problems or simply complimenting them to see their faces brighten up.

And for some reason, that particular character trait was the one thing Loki found the most annoying.

How could a person so naive and pure think they could actually join in battles against evil? You’ll only end up getting yourself killed - and to be honest, Loki thought this to be a waste.

And even though he’d never admit it, but jealousy was starting to get the better of him the more he observed you getting along with everyone.

They adored you - and they were very right in doing so!

But that would mean that you were just nice to everyone, not especially to him, right?

Every time you’d help Bucky through a panic attack, braided Thor’s hair or helped Banner in the laboratory, Loki only wished you’d be with him instead - and if he had to burn this whole place to the ground for this to happen.

Yet his pride kept him from voicing that desire.

For you on the other hand, it was frustratingly hard to get through to the God of Mischief. In comparison to how he treated the other Avengers, he was always reserved and courteous towards you, yet also unreachable distanced.

Only on a weekend where the other Avengers were on a mission, the two of you found a way to actually bond with each other, if only a little.

Loki had once again read every book he borrowed from Stark’s library, now having a reason to leave his room again. At least those subhumans won’t be there to drain on his nerves...

When he crossed the living room on his way to the elevator, he blinked heavily as he saw you plainly chilling on the sofa. He was just about to turn around and leave, when you hectically gestured for him to stay.

“Hey, Loki! 😊” you wrote on a notepad, holding it up for him to read.

“Greetings...” he spoke between gritted teeth, but your smile wouldn’t falter, so he stood rooted in the middle of the room.

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” How blunt could you be to ask a literal god directly, just like that?!

“Actually, I-” When your eyes met, Loki cut himself off, the words being caught in his throat. “Well, if you’re in dire need of my sublime company...”

You were quick to sit up straight, offering a bowl with popcorn to the Odinson which he curiously accepted. When he answered your question about what sweets they eat on Asgard, he wouldn’t understand why you’d laugh. Apparently ‘nuts and grapes’ are not considered treats on earth. Got it.

Yet that little huff you blew out of your nose instead of making an actual laughing sound came somewhat endearing to him, especially in contrast to your other noisy companions. “Adorable...”

Without even asking first, you’d wrap the other half of the blanket around Loki, effectively closing the gap between you two.

“Wha- I’m not cold!” he blurted out, visibly overchallenged by the sudden closeness. “I’m a Jotun, hel!”

What was he even so worked up about? Geeze...

“But the weather on Asgard is rather humid, right?” you wrote down, with him nodding approvingly. "It allows all kinds of flowers to blossom, other than this metal brick” he explained, your excited look not failing to keep him talking. “You should see it some time.”

Loki’s eyes were now locked on the screen, and you could basically grasp his homesicknes, very well aware that a failure and war criminal like him would never be tolerated in those holy grounds ever again.

Great...now you had achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted.

You tugged on his arm so he’d shift your attention to you again, quickly writing something with a barely there sulk on your face:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you sad.”

Tears were already forming on the rim of your eyes, making Loki’s insides churn. “So sensitive...gods. Keep yourself together, would you.”

The Odinson instinctively wrapped an arm around you, his free hand petting your head as he pulled it to his chest. He was awfully warm for a frost giant, and his heart was hammering against his chest in a fastened pace - maybe just your imagination, though.

“Well, it’s winter...” he uttered, acting as if he actually cared about the plot of the movie. “I may not freeze, but you seemed cold. That’s all.”

You let your hand run across his collarbone, making him look down to you once again. He bit his lip as his icy glare met your warm one, eyes shimmering with earnest affection while you formed silent words with your lips:

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u.”

“N-no need to thank me.” Just now Loki wondered what kind of spell you were using on him, being reduced to a shaking and stuttering mess.

No curse, no beauty ever before had bewitched him so much that he would lose his cool, let anyone peek under his confident mask, after all.

Not so long ago, when he was still considered the handsome Prince of Asgard, he would bed a different lover on each night, though never settling for anyone.

And after the revelation of his true heritage, even those fleeting encounters to ease his loneliness would falter - all that’s left was certainty that the theory he had ever since his childhood had proven to be true: 

That everyone had always secretly despised him, the failure of the family and disgrace to all of Asgard. Only through his Jotun blood they had found a reason to not play along with the royal courtesy anymore, showing their resentment up in the open.

But you...you looked at him with completely different eyes than anyone ever did.

Maybe he had become softer, weaker over time - or simply more mature. His mother once told him to seize the moment when someone truly special would cross his way, and to never let them go.

“We could do this more often.” You shoved the notepad in his line of sight, and just now he noticed that two hours had sure passed in an incredible speed.

Just the two of you, cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying each other’s presence instead of dealing with the troublesome past.

“Well...” Loki clawed into your upper arm softly, no intention of letting you out of his grasp already. “I am sure your other companions are more fun to be around. As you most likely already noticed, I am known for ruining the mood.”

Loki had a habit of talking ill about himself, and letting himself down as well. Yet as he saw you eagerly scribble on the notepad, he knit his brows together, impatient to what you’d say next.

“But I want to see you.” The word ‘you’ was written in a thicker font, underlined several times.

“Why?”, that was the first and only thing crossing his mind. And yet there you sat, shoving the notepad into his face with a stern look on your face.

Loki was rooted on spot as you put the notepad on the table, instead laying your hands on his cheeks and softly tugging on the edge of his lips. “S-m-i-l-e!”

“E-enough!” he carefully pushed your hands away, afraid you’d detect the mild blush on his face. “Then it shall be. What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

Loki finally arrived at the library to return his books, even though with a few hours delay. Realizing just how much he had enjoyed that spontaneous meeting with you, he began to panic.

Was it really a good idea to repeat this?

He was almost 100% certain that it would only end in him ruining your trust in anyone completely, if he’d ever allow you to come close to his core.

Due to him having saved you back then, you probably see him as something better than he actually was - and gods, how disappointed you’ll be once you’d find out what he really is like...

It was probably for the best if this would never happen, with him just keeping on to admire you from afar...

After a while of just staring into the void, mentally debating about your offer, he couldn’t help the fact that he was already looking forwards to meeting you again.

Uncertain how to approach the matter, Loki was at least eager to show you his goodwill.

For you have been the first person who - despite everything he had done - was willing to give him another chance.

"Greetings. I need every available book about sign language.”

[ikeromantic]

Piano Lessons

An ObeyMe! Lucifer fic, approx. 1800 words. G/N MC, Fluff.

The infernal grand piano squatted in one shadowed corner of the music room. To any human, at first glance it looked no different from the version in the human world. A dangerous assumption, you knew. If an easy one to make. This instrument was capable of compositions that would drive a mortal listener mad, or even cause death.

You thought that would be reason enough to be given a pass on your Devilish Music I, but Lucifer didn’t agree. In fact, he considered your ignorance of the instrument and its compositions an opportunity. And that was how you found yourself in the House of Lamentation’s music room every afternoon when RAD let out.

Lucifer was already waiting on the bench. He looked up as you came in, lips compressed in an expression of near-constant disapproval. “You’re late.”

“I’m on time!” You glanced at the clock on the wall.

“If you aren’t five minutes early, that counts as late. Now come here and sit next to me.”

Arguing with Lucifer was futile. Besides, you did want to sit next to him. During your time in the Devildom, you’d developed a bit of a crush on the eldest brother. One that had you working hard to be on the receiving end of his rare smiles and sparse compliments.

Today you were hoping to impress Luci with your rendition from Certovski, Faust’s Mistake. It was one of the mortal-safe pieces you could attempt without risking your mind or your soul.

“Fingers on the keys.” Lucifer’s red eyes followed your hands as you tried for the appropriate position. “Elbows out. Move your left hand in.”

You did as instructed, but apparently you were still off. He reached for your hands, positioning them. Part of you wanted to fight him on it. The rest of you just enjoyed the feel of his hands on yours. His skin was always so warm and smooth.

He frowned. “Focus.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. With your hands in place, you ran through the demonic scale. Some of the tones were too low or too high to hear. You could feel them though, shivering your bones and raising the hairs at the back of your neck.

Your warm-up didn’t get any objection from the Prince of Pride, which meant you were doing well. A quick glance showed he wasn’t frowning any more. Good.

Lucifer stood and began to pace behind you. “What are you going to play for me?”

“I’ve been practicing Faust’s Mistake.” As if he didn’t know.

“Then begin.”

You take a breath. This is it. You try to psych yourself up. All that practice will pay off. All those evenings you gave up gaming with Levi and Mammon, the weekends you stayed in instead of going out with Satan or Asmo. You could play this in your sleep.

Your hands float across the keys, the melody pouring from the hidden strings, describing the terrible bargain Faust made. The fast, tripping notes gave way to the long, slow sounds of regret, and finally, to the clashing finish.

Sweat beaded your forehead as you lowered your hands to your lap. The tension in your chest stopped your breath as you waited for Lucifer’s judgement.

“That was . . . not bad.”

From anyone else, you’d take this as a criticism but from Luci? It was a gold star. You smiled over your shoulder at him.

The left corner of his lip turned up in a slight half smile. “I’m impressed you memorized the whole piece in such a short time. I can tell you’ve worked hard.”

You felt like if he gave you one more compliment, you might completely melt.

“But -”

Your heart sank.

“I didn’t feel the tension, the passion of the moment in your rendition. You were too focused on technical mastery.” Lucifer sat down beside you, his hip brushing yours. “The Faustian epic is classic. It must evoke the emotion of the moment, the story, that birthed it. Let me show you what I mean.”

His hands went to the keys. “This is from earlier in the story. The Fall.” He began playing in a low octave, a heavy, slow rhythm that made your heart pound. Or perhaps that was just from sitting so close to him.

Lucifer kept that going as he began to layer higher, lighter notes atop it. These sounded almost playful, innocent. If not for the ominous beat beneath it. “Here we have naivete. The mortal at play, unaware of the trap laid for him.”

You nod.

“The music is the story, the story lives in the music. Now -” The lighter notes began to slow, creeping closer to the lower octave. “The mortal becomes aware of the nearness of death. The lingering, slow demise that comes to all men.”

Your breath slows in time to the music, and you can almost feel the weight of your years, few though they are. It is as if you lived a century and now your bones are heavy and your body is weary. Your eyelids drift half closed.

Lucifer continues to play, the ominous chords grow louder and the higher tones fade until both melodies close in on each other.

There is a subaudible component now, and though you can’t hear it, you can feel it move with the pulse of your blood. An arrhythmia that pulls you into the moment. The music surges beneath your eyelids, a spiral of red across a dark abyss. A false light.

“Here Faust decides his soul is worth less than his earthly pleasures, and denies Death its due. You can hear the strains of rage from Death’s denial beside the demon’s triumph. And there, Faust’s -”

The music stops but you can still feel it inside you. Something slick and warm slides down your cheek.

Lucifer’s voice, demanding. Trembling. “Wake up. Open your eyes this instant.”

You wish you could obey. You’d like to but the music holds you where you are. Limbo. A space bereft of everything but the music. Death and the demon, Faust’s lust and greed.

“Please.” Lucifer’s voice is gentler than you’ve ever heard it before.

You feel the pad of his thumb against your cheek. A sudden burst of magic like static on a distant radio. Then silence. Your mind slips under a dark, quiet ocean.

The water is warm. Peaceful. You can feel it cradling you. Stroking your hair, your cheeks. The touches become more insistent. Pushing you toward the surface. Toward wakefulness.

“I am sorry. Please. If you open your eyes, I will do . . . I will do anything, anything you want. I won’t make you practice anymore. I’ll give you a - a bigger room.”

The voice belongs to Lucifer, you’re sure of it. But it doesn’t sound like him. When has he ever pleaded, begged, for anything? You realize it is his hands on your skin, stroking your arms, your face. Then it hits you. The music. It wasn’t safe for your mind and now . . . was this real?

You open your eyes.

Lucifer’s face is the first thing you see. He is so close, you can feel his breath on your cheek. His eyes are wide and damp, and full of concern. You are held tight against him, like a child.

“Can you hear me? See me?” His fingertip slides along your jawline, a delicate touch.

“Yes.” Your voice comes out throaty and low. Rough as if you’d been screaming.

His relief is palpable. He squeezes you tighter, pressing your face to his chest. “I . . . I apologize. I got carried away with the music. And you’ve taken injury because of it - because of me.”

The words are halting, stiff. Hard for the proud eldest to say, and yet, for you, he does. “It’s okay,” you croak. “It was beautiful.” And it’s true. Some remnant of the cursed melodies still echo in the chambers of your heart. Haunting you with a promise that has no words.

“I will see you are fully recovered.” The briskness returns to Lucifer’s voice.

You try to push yourself up, off his chest. He doesn’t loosen his hold on you.

“Stop struggling. Are you uncomfortable?” Lucifer adjusts his grip, sliding your head to the crook of his arm. “Is that better?”

It isn’t, really. But at least you can see you aren’t in the music room anymore. Lucifer must have carried you to his chambers. He must have been worried, but you don’t know why. You feel alright. You try to sit up again.

With an exasperated look, Lucifer partially lifts you. He doesn’t release you. “Didn’t I say to stop struggling? You need to relax until you are . . . repaired.”

“I feel fine,” you tell him.

He frowns. “You are still bleeding from your ears.”

You lift a hand to the side of your head. It comes away red and wet. “Oh.”

“It will take a few days for the effects to wear off.” The concern in his scarlet gaze frightens you more than the blood.

“Will I be ok?”

“Mostly.” He looks away. “Until then, I will keep you here and see to your needs. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Does anything hurt?”

You shake your head. This, you discovered, was a mistake. The shadows of the room move with your vision, growing one direction and then the other. Wide swaths of darkness that catch your eye.

“Are you seeing things?” Lucifer looks back at you. His thumb caresses your cheek.

“N-no.”

“Rather, tell me what you are seeing. And don’t lie about it a second time.”

There is a flicker of warning in the crimson depths of his gaze. You tell him about the shadows, and the way the music still sings in you.

He frowns. “If the effects do not fade, I may have to keep you in my rooms forever.”

You note that he doesn’t sound annoyed at this prospect. But he didn’t ask you, and his assumptions don’t sit well. “You can’t lock me up, Lucifer.”

“I can.”

Wrong tactic to take. You amend. “It probably isn’t a good idea to burden yourself with caring for me. You have a lot to do. Diavolo needs you.”

Lucifer knows what you’re up to. He has millenniums on you, after all. He smiles and brushes the hair back from your forehead. “I have informed my brothers, and the Prince, that you fell ill yesterday afternoon. I’ve taken time off to care for you.”

Your mind takes a moment to catch up. “Yesterday?”

“Yes. I cast a spell to knock you unconscious when I realized what I’d done. It helped, briefly. But you started screaming some time in the night and . . .”

You realize he’s been sitting here, holding you, for hours. Warmth blossoms in your chest. A happiness completely out of place, all things considered. But despite the blood loss and possibly permanent madness, you feel loved. Cared for.

Lucifer seems to read your mind. He says nothing, just places a light kiss on your forehead.

Neither of you need to speak. He knows and you know and words just complicate things anyway.

He stands, still holding you, and carries you to bed. When you drift back to sleep, it’s with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders to pull you close.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 20: Doctor Visit/Checkup

Title: The Best Medicine

Fandom: N/A

Based on this post by me. (Sick doctor)

A physician leaves work miserably sick. His RN girlfriend takes care of him.

(Author’s Note: This breaks the rule I set of less than 2k words but I wrote it before I decided to do this challenge and thought it worked well here. I just needed a sick doctor having PE performed on them ok 😅)

Due to the fact that it was 6:30 AM and she was still more asleep than awake, it took her a while to realize the man she was dating was standing behind her as she waited in line for coffee. However, in her defense, she had never seen him in this coffee line at this time of day before (and she herself was here at this time every day).

It wasn't until she heard a familiar, sniffly yawning noise that she turned and caught his eye. 

"Shane? What are you doing here? You're usually sleeping right now." She didn't go to greet him right away, mainly because she didn't want to lose her place in line, and only two people stood between her and caffeination.

He too looked startled, though happy to see her. "Molly, hey," he said. There was a squeaky rasp to his voice and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Had an early meeting that got cancelled at the last minute. Since I was already awake, figured I'd come into the office early and clear out my inboxes."

"Gotcha. Well cool, that means I get to treat you to coffee for once. You find a place to sit and I'll get the drinks."

He shot her a grateful look and stepped out of line.

Molly ordered, received, and paid for the coffees quickly, tipping generously, before going to join Shane. He kissed her on the cheek as he took his cup, and they shared a warm smile as they made their way to a little sitting area, sharing a bench against the wall.

"Kathy's coffee is the best in the hospital. You'll love this."

"So you've told me many times. I'm glad I finally get to try it. What did you get me?"

"A surprise. You'll like it, trust me."

"Cheers, then." With another smile, they tapped their cups together before taking long pulls of their beverages.

"This is delicious," he said after a moment. "Best I've ever had from here. Thanks, babe."

"My pleasure." They sat for a bit in companionable silence, sipping their drinks. However, Molly couldn't help but cast sidelong glances at her partner with increasing frequency. Now that she was next to him, she saw he looked quite unwell. He was pale and shivery, with a flush over his cheeks and ears, and looking overall rundown and uncomfortable, a far cry from his usual easy smile and warm, steady demeanor.

"Is everything ok, doc? You really don't look good."

"You're saying I look ugly today?" he countered teasingly, dodging the question. 

She nudged him playfully. "You're just as handsome as ever. I'm saying you look sick. Are you feeling ok?"

He shrugged. "Think I'm just tired. Not used to being up so early. My head and throat are kinda sore I guess."

"Just tired, huh?" She reached out and placed her palm to his forehead, then his flushed cheeks, and finally his neck, where she could feel the swollen lymph nodes she had already seen. She clicked her tongue scoldingly.

"That's a fever, Doctor Mitchell, and a high one at that. Why in the world did you come to work today?"

"No kidding, really?" Shane leaned back against the wall, rubbing his neck and looking sheepish. "I can't even remember the last time I had a fever. Had to have been before medical school. Guess I forgot what it feels like."

"Hmm. Well regardless, you need to go home. You can't risk infecting your patients and staff."

"Yeah, of course. I'll go now."

When he stood, she did as well, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Feel better. Get lots of rest and fluids."

"I know the drill," he rasped, smiling a little. "I am a physician."

"Sometimes I have my doubts, mister 'doesn't know what a fever feels like.' Sports medicine doesn't deal with the flu much." She kissed his shoulder fondly.

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled away, running his thumb over her jawline. "Thanks again for the coffee. I'll see you later. Text me when you have time. I'm sure I'll be bored out of my mind."

"Will do."

She watched him go wistfully, wishing she was going with him.

Naturally he wasn't far from her thoughts for the rest of the day. The hospital OB-GYN clinic was as busy as ever, and the hustle and bustle kept Molly, an RN, quite distracted, but every moment of downtime found her wondering how Shane was doing.

She texted him a few times as he requested. The first time he replied right away, saying he had made it home safely and was relaxing on the couch. The second time he replied a few hours later, saying how tired he was and how he really was starting to feel unwell, but he was doing fine. The third time he never replied.

Her plans for the weekend had been solidified in her mind as soon as she felt how feverish he was. She practically ran out the door as soon as she clocked out. Her first stop was her house to change clothes, shower, and gather some supplies. Her second stop was Shane's favorite soup and sandwich place for two quarts of soup and two sandwiches to go. From there, she headed to Shane's condo across town.

She hadn't informed him she was coming because she had wanted it to be a bit of a surprise. Initially her plan was to leave the soup and sandwich on the stoop and ring the bell, then duck out of sight until the last minute. However, her plan changed when she caught a glimpse of him through the front door.

He was fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach on the couch. Bundled under two blankets and snoring with his mouth open, surrounded by a nest of used tissues and dishes, he was the picture of illness.

She didn't have the heart to wake him by knocking, so instead she used her copy of his house key to let herself in quietly, being careful not to let the cold air in with her. He didn't stir even after she shut and re-locked the door. After removing her coat, she deposited the items she had brought in the kitchen, then returned to his side. Perching on the edge of the couch, she ran her hand over his face and through his hair to wake him.

He stirred weakly, mumbling and snuffling as he opened his eyes. His face lit up upon seeing her, and he quickly sat up, leaning all of his sleepy, overly-warm weight against her for a tight hug.

"Molly, you're here! I'mb so habby to see you," he croaked earnestly.

She hugged him back just as tightly. "Of course I'm here. When you stopped replying to my texts, I knew I had to come check on you. You look so sick, poor guy, and you're so stuffed up. Are you surviving?"

He shrugged, pulling away. "I guess. I'mb doi'g ok. So achy and tired. Just been sleebi'g all day." He licked his cracked lips and tried to swallow, which resulted in a grimace. "Budt you should go, babe. I don'dt wandt you to catch this. It's ndasty."

As if to prove his point, he turned away from her to cough productively into his elbow, thick and chesty. He followed it up with a honking nose blow that was far less productive. She watched this display sympathetically.

"I'm not leaving you all alone and sick like this. And anyway, if I do get sick, I think I know a doctor who could take care of me." She bumped her shoulder against his. He smiled wanly. "Now, have you taken any medicine recently?"

He sheepishly averted his eyes. "Umb… ndo. I… don'dt really have anythi'g to take."

"Ugh, Shane. Don't tell me you're one of those 'it only treats the symptoms' purists."

"Ndo, it's ndot thad. Like I told you, I just haven't been sigck in years. I've never thought to buy cold mbedicine."

"You're such a guy," she sighed. "Even if you are a doctor. You at least got your flu shot right?"

"Yeah. Budt they're already sayi'g it's probably ndot goi'g to be very effective this year."

"Of course they are." She sighed again. "However, I had a hunch this would happen, so I came prepared." She quickly retrieved a bag from the kitchen which rattled with medications, sitting down beside him again. She selected the ones she wanted and shook them into his hand, watching closely as he swallowed them.

"You're acti'g like you don'dt trust mbe to take care of mbyself," he teased, taking several gulps of water to chase the pills. 

"That's not necessarily true. I just want to do everything possible to help you feel better."

He had to cough harshly again before he could answer, hard enough to redden his face. "I love thad you wandt to take care of mbe. Budt you should really go. I'mb so contagious right ndow, and I don'dt wandt to try to stay away from you."

"Then don't. I came here to be close to you. I don't care if I get sick. It's the weekend anyway. I'm here for you and only you. Besides, you were probably contagious yesterday too, and we still made out. So it doesn't matter anyway."

"You're too good to mbe," he mumbled, finally succumbing and leaning his full weight against her, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms loosely around her. "Budt I still don'dt approve. You're staying AMA, just so we're clear."

"Call me a rebel, then," she murmured, stroking his sweaty hair.

He sneezed suddenly, only once, but wet and laborious, catching it in his elbow. She quickly pulled a tissue from the nearby box. He took it gratefully, blowing his stopped nose as best he could before resting against her again. He sighed deeply as she resumed her petting.

"You're lugcky the desire to be taken care of when sigck is a deebply ingrained biological traidt," he continued to mumble, sounding sleepier by the second.

"I am, huh? Well you're talking an awful lot for someone who has no voice."

She felt him smile against her, but he did fall silent for a while, aside from his sniffling and soft coughing. She thought he was going back to sleep when he spoke up again.

"You know whad would mbake mbe feel even better thad mbedicine? Sumb soubp."

"Hmm, well it just so happens you have a girlfriend who thinks of everything." She gently shifted him off of her, going back to the kitchen and returning with a quart of soup and a sandwich.

"Sal's chigcken rice?" he rasped, his eyes lighting up hungrily as he sat up straighter. 

"Naturally. We've been together almost two years. I know what you like when you're not feeling good."

"You're a lifesaver," he groaned, taking the proffered food and digging in right away.

"I'm glad you have an appetite anyway. I won't ever forget last year's stomach flu incident."

 "Ugh, don'dt rembind mbe," he said with a shudder. "Bud other than thad one time, I'll always have an abbetite for this soubp. This is all I've wanted all day." He wolfed down the food with unexpected vigor.

"Well then you're lucky I think of everything, like I said. And to think you wanted to kick me out."

"I ndever *wanted* you kigck you oud. I'm just goi'g to hade mbyself whed you ged sigck," he mumbled, swallowing a mouthful.

"Maybe I won't get sick, did you think of that? And like I've been saying--" She leaned in to kiss him fully on the mouth, long and hard, until he pulled away gasping. "--I don't care. As long as you promise to take care of me if I do, I won't complain about a few days off. So stop worrying."

"Ugh, take it easy babe," he moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "This fever has mby blood flow all mbessed ub. You can'dt be usi'g your lips on mbe like thad."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to seduce you today. Unless you instigate it of course." She gave him a wicked look and he flushed. 

"You're something else, Mol," he muttered, unable to hide a smile.

"Just eat your 'soob'." 

He did what he was told while she tidied up his sick bed area. When he was almost done, she fetched another bag from the kitchen and began rummaging through it. He eyed the items she pulled out suspiciously.

"How much crabp did you bri'g? And whad are you doi'g ndow?"

"Something I've always wanted to do. And something I think will make you smile."

"I feel like I've been smili'g since you godt here."

It was Molly's turn to flush and smile. "Something that might make you laugh, then."

She sat close beside him on the couch with her stethoscope around her neck, placing a little tablet of paper and a pen in front of her on the table. 

"Constitution:" she both said this out loud and wrote it on the paper. "Well-nourished. Unwell appearing today. Complains of malaise and myalgia. Lymphatics:" 

She had been neatly writing everything down as she spoke. After the last word, she reached out to gently palate the visibly swollen lymph nodes in his neck. He moaned softly as she massaged them, the moan turning into a cough.

"Cervical lymphadenopathy noted. Lymph nodes tender to palpation." She wrote this down as well.

"Whad are you doi'g, Mol?"

"You get to be a doctor all the time. Today you're definitely the patient, so I'm taking my turn being the doctor and doing a physical exam on you. We need to make a diagnosis after all."

"Ah, of course. Mby apologies, please continue," he said with a little laugh, wiping his nose with a tissue.

"Thank you. Open your mouth please." Inserting a thermometer under his tongue, she also took his pulse with her watch as the thermometer calibrated. 

"Resting heart rate is elevated at 86 bpm. Temperature is abnormal at 101.8 degrees Fahrenheit."

"I could've told you thad. I just toogk my tembp before you godt here."

"I find that hard to believe since you were sleeping when I got here. Now shh. Actually say 'ah'." She situated a tongue depressor in his mouth, peering in. "Throat erythematous and inflamed," she said and wrote. "Now lean forward a bit if you would."

He did as he was told, looking slightly put-upon and she slid the diaphragm of her stethoscope under his worn university tee shirt, placing it on his back as she listened to him breathe for a moment. "Minor ronchi noted. No crackles or rales. Minimal concern for pneumonia at this time."

"Well thad's a relief," he said, sniffling wetly.

"Shh, I still need to listen to your heart," she said, sliding the diaphragm of the stethoscope around to his chest. 

"Terrible beside manner. I'm leavi'g a ndegative review."

She gave him her sternest "doctor" look. He merely smiled impishly. She sighed, biting back a smile of her own, and listened again.

"Normal rhythm. L-1, L-2 heard."

Setting aside the instruments, she slid her hands under his shirt, feeling gently.

"Skin is overly warm or feverish. Abdomen is soft, non-tender and non-distended."

"You didn't have to go under mby shirt, you know. Abdominal exam cad be done over clothi'g," he said, smirking.

"I was being… thorough," she said with a wink.

He chuckled hoarsely. "Someone's godt the hots for their patiendt. Thad's trouble," he murmured, stifling a yawn as he pulled his blanket closer around himself with a shiver. 

"Neurologic: grossly normal. Tremors noted due to chills. Psychiatric: patient is oriented to person, place, time. Behavior normal, but appears lethargic, fatigued and sleepy."

After writing down these final notes, she cuddled up beside him on the couch, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him close as he started shivering in earnest. He nestled against her wearily.

"How did I do?" she murmured. "Did I make you laugh a little at least?"

"Very thorough and efficiendt," he mumbled sleepily, coughing. "And yes you did. Whad's your diagnosis and treadtment plan, doctor?"

"At best a severe case of rhinovirus. I'm more inclined to think influenza due to the fever, but we'll continue to monitor. No active intervention needed at this time. Bed rest at home, OTC medication as needed and adequate hydration recommended." At this she handed him his water bottle. He drank several big gulps before handing it back to her and snuggling in again.

"If that's what the doctor orders," he sniffled, closing his eyes. 

She held him for a while, since that seemed to be all he wanted, just rubbing his back and stroking his hair. However, they were forced to move when Shane pulled away to break into one of his barking, painful coughing fits. He tried to settle again after the fact, making a face. 

"I don't feel good, Mol," he mumbled pathetically. "This sugcks."

"I know, doc. But I'm doing everything I can to help you feel better. I didn't realize your fever was so high though," she murmured. "And that was after you took medicine. But you seemed just fine yesterday. You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

"Thad's one of the reasons you have the hots for mbe, you know id is," he croaked.

"The only thing with the hots around here is that fever. You're sweltering."

"Sorry," he mumbled, yet made no effort to move off of her. Instead he sneezed wetly into his elbow.

"Update, you're sweltering *and* gross," she said conversationally. Yet she made no effort to move away from him either, kissing his forehead instead. He yawned as she did. "And sleepy."

"Thingk I'm just sigck," he muttered.

"Yeah, let's go with that. Do you want to go back to sleep right now?"

"Ndo. Ndot while you're here. I'm too sigck to sleeb anyway."

"There's no such thing as being too sick to sleep. But if you don't want to sleep right now, I have one more present for you." 

"You've already given mbe too mbuch."

"There's no such thing as that either." She carefully shifted out from under him again and attempted to head to the kitchen once more. Before she could take more than a step though, he caught her hand and made her turn around. Seeing his imploring look, she stepped back into the V of his legs. He wrapped his arms fully around her, burying his hot face in her abdomen. 

"Thangk you mbuch for the soubp and mbedicine, baby. You really are a lifesaver. I just wanted to tell you thad."

She nuzzled her face into his messy hair. "Anything to help you feel better. I can tell you're still miserable though."

"Nodt miserable with you here." 

"Just sick."

"Mhm," he mumbled, sleepily as ever. She let him hold her for another moment or two before speaking again.

"Seriously though, I have something else I want to give you. It'll just take a second to grab."

"Fine," he sighed. As he pulled away, she saw a hazy, pre-sneeze look cross his face. Sure enough, as she trotted to the kitchen, behind her she heard him emit a pair of messy, rough sneezes.

"That soup really got your nose going, huh?" she asked as she reentered the living room.

"Guess so," he sniffled, blowing his nose thickly. "Thad's the poindt though, right?"

"Indeed it is." She moved to the entertainment center and quickly plugged her laptop into the TV.

"Now whad are you doi'g?"

"Maybe you should stop asking questions and just wait and see."

"You know I hade surprises."

"That's not true at all in my experience, so I'm calling your bluff on that one. But you won't have to wait long for this one either way."

After a few setting changes to allow the laptop display to be projected on the TV, Molly popped a disk into the drive and started it up.

"Are we watchi'g somethi'g?"

"You and your questions." She tossed a thick DVD case into his lap. He picked it up, his eyes widening happily.

"The original Jurassic Park trilogy? Holy crabp, this is awesome!"

"I'm glad you approve," she laughed, stepping into his arms again. "It was going to be your Christmas present, but I figured a sick day at home is an even better occasion."

"This is perfect, love. You're ambazing," he mumbled, squeezing her tightly.

"Anything for my best guy." She nuzzled his hair again fondly. "Anything to help you sleep."

"I don'dt wandt to sleeb while you're here though. I don'dt wandt to mbiss out on seei'g you."

"Well then you're in luck, because I'm planning on staying here all weekend. So I'll be here when you fall asleep and when you wake up. No time wasted at all."

A grin split his face. "You'd do thad for mbe?"

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise. Doctors need to be looked after too, especially by their nurse girlfriends. So you stretch out and get comfortable and leave the rest to me."

"You're cooler than anadomy and dinosaurs combined, you know thad?"

Molly giggled happily. "I don't know if I'll ever come back from such high praise. You better quit while you're ahead, Dr. Mitchell."

"Only if you promise to make mbe coffee in the morni'g. Your good coffee."

"Sounds like a plan," she said with a grin and another kiss.

[sweetiejunie]

It’s Because I Love you

Summary: Soobin dug himself into a hole and needed his bestfriend to help him out

Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-lovers, Slow-burn(ish)

Word count: ~10k (oops sry)

💕 Requested 

A/n: to the anon that requested this. I’m so sorry this took me forever... haha~ I hope you liked it! And writing this actually reminded how much i like writing these. Do you guys prefer these kind of longer fics or the shorter reaction type fics?

Warnings: Some swearing

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      “Y/n i fucked up.”

      Was first line that came out of soobin’s mouth when you opened the door. It wasn’t unusual for soobin to randomly show up at your place. But you really weren’t expecting his presence today, since you knew he would be busy packing to head home for the week break. You were about to greet him but before you could say anything, he beat you to it, his sentence laced with regret and panic.        “What did you do this time?” You answered, “aren’t you supposed to be packing?”        “I- excuse you what do you mean ‘this time’?” He mocked. “Okay, whatever, we’ll get back to that and yeah, i am, but I fucked up real bad,” he repeated.        “Huh?” You took a step back so soobin could enter. “Are you alright? What happened?”       “So you know how all my cousins and sibling are in a relationship right?” Soobin continued, making his way to your couch to sit down. Resting his head back against the cushions as he groaned.       “Yeah, what about it?” Tilting your head as the conversation got more confusing by the second. You closed the door behind you before joining him.        “Well... my brother just called me and may have been bothering me about being the only one that isn’t in a relationship...” he trailed off, “and erm, i may have said i... had a girlfriend. And now my family wants met her.”        You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his confession, “you did what? You really dug yourself into a hole this time.”        Soobin was the youngest of his family. He was always the one that chose to focus more on his grades than actually making friends. Sure, he went to parties and drank every now and then, but other than that, he rarely did anything short of the ‘perfect son’. But despite all his efforts, there was always one thing his sibling could tease him about, and that was the fact that he was 21 and has never been in a relationship. Soobin always tried to not let this bother him, but i guess today, he just snapped.        “I really did,” he sighed. “That’s why i need your help.”        “How can i possibly help you out of this, soobin?” you ridiculed, glaring at him. “You do know that you’re one of my only friends, right? Meaning, I won’t be able to find anyone to play girlfriend with you.”         “Um, actually about that... i kind of told my family that my girlfriend goes to the same school as me and studies the same major as me. I also kind of told them that she has y/e/c eyes and y/h/c hair.” He sat up, looking for a reaction from you. Instead, all he saw was your blank expression, staring back at him. “Yeah so, if you hadn’t caught on yet, i might have, sort of, just described you to my family.”         Your eyes widened at his statement, you weren’t sure what to reply. You met soobin all the way back in high school, and you’ve stayed friends ever since — 5 years, 11 months, 23 days, to be exact. Not that you were keeping count or anything. You remember the first day you approached the shy boy, the new transfer student sitting at the back alone. He was the first friend you made there. And to makes things worse, you’ve had a crush on him, but you knew better than to confess and possibly ruin the friendship.         You’ve suppressed all your feeling since then. Maybe. Probably. Okay, no. But you’ve tried. And all this talk of ‘pretend girlfriend’ did nothing but make your heart start racing again.        “Why on earth would you do that!”        “I dont know! You were the first person that came to mind! So are you okay with doing me the favour of playing the role of my girlfriend?” Soobin said with a slight pout and puppy dog eyes. A move he knew you could never refuse, “You’re free this break, right?”        His sudden confession was like a blow to your heart. The first person that came to his mind... but it’s probably just because he didnt have many female friends, right?        “Erm...” you paused. The more you thought about his proposition, the more you found yourself weighing the consequences.        “Come on y/n. Please? We already get engaged every other week at clubs for free drinks. This won’t be that much different.”        “Would your family believe it? I mean, it’s me.”        “Sure they will. And it’ll be easy to fake it since you already know me.”        You paused for another second before replying. “Hm, right. Fine. But you owe me. Do i have to bring anything?” You were helping out a friend.         A friend. Nothing more, nothing less.        “Nope, just bring enough clothes. You don’t need anything too fancy,” he stood up, leaning down to give you a quick hug. As he walked towards the door, he looked over his shoulder before leaving your apartment. “Thanks for doing this, i really owe you. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow after our classes, alright? See you then.”

————-————-————-————-

        After an hour, three outfit changes and completely unpacking and repacking your luggage twice, you were finally satisfied and ready to go. It was only a weeks worth of clothes in a small luggage, yet, you still found a way to overthink it. In the end, you had settled for a simple tee with jeans and a coat to keep you warm for the ride.         Already, you were beginning to regret your decision of going along with this whole ‘fake girlfriend’ act. It had nothing to do with soobin or his family. They were absolutely wonderful, his parents were kind, his siblings were fun and sweet and his baby nephew was, well, a baby. The only problem was what if your heart liked the idea of being his ‘girlfriend’ just a little bit too much?         You had met his siblings and parents a handful of times when they visited him at his apartment. They’ve always been nothing but nice to you, and now, you were going to have to lie to them. The more you thought about it, the more your mind was playing angel and devil with you. On one hand, you didn’t want to spend the weekend being dishonest and possibly screwing up the image soobin’s family had of you. But on the other, you wanted to be selfish and be able to call soobin yours, even if it were just for a few days.         You sighed quietly, sitting in your living room waiting for soobin to pick you up like he said he would. The entire day you had been unable to focus in your classes, whatever your lectures said just going right through your head. At this time on fridays, you would normally have found soobin dressed in any lounge wear he had, crashing at your place to watch whatever movie he found that week. But now, you were going to find him dressed up, ready to bring you to meet his parents. The relationship sure escalated quickly. Just as your mind started drifting further, your doorbell rang.        “U ready?” Soobin’s signature eye smile greeted you, his front bunny teeth exposed. You’ve always noticed how soobin’s appearance resembled that of a bunny, but no matter how many times you tried to tell him, he didn’t want to believe it.        “As ready as ill ever be,” you returned the smile, grabbing your luggage and locking your front door.        Well, this was it, no turning back now. Helping you with your things, soobin lead you to his car and started the journey. It was only about a 3 hour drive and a car ride proved to be a great distraction. You hadn’t been to soobins hometown before, so being able to look out the window and see the scenery was no doubt better than sneaking glances at soobin in the drivers seat. You just knew that if you saw soobin, with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other propped on the arm rest, you might have gone into cardiac arrest.        The ride was quiet for the most part, that was until soobin pulled up at a red light. “I made a playlist,” soobin flipped his phone around to show you and connect it to his car. “It’s like, if you were my real girlfriend, this would be the playlist i would share with you.”        You couldn’t help but smile when you realised how sweet soobin would be in an actual relationship. His future girlfriend is really lucky. But you had to control yourself, reminding yourself that it’s all just pretend for the week.        “I’m sure its great. You have great taste in music,” you faked a laugh. “Um... so... soobin? How exactly are we supposed to fake this? I mean, what we supposed to do? What will your family do?”        “Oh...” he started, his eyes focusing back on the road, the lights turning green again. “To be honest, i haven’t actually thought about that part yet.” Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. “Mmm, when my brother first brought his girlfriend home, my family teased him a lot, just to make fun of him and get her reaction. But they already did that with you whenever they visited me so... I’m not sure what they’ll do, honestly.”        “Oh...” That was completely unhelpful. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continued staring blankly out the window.        “Hey, don’t worry too much okay? We’ll just wing it like we do everything else. And that’s worked out for us so far, right?” Soobin chuckled, trying to comfort you. “As for what we need to do. I guess it’ll just be all that couple stuff like holding hands and hugging. And you’re already such a cuddly person, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. We got this, alright? And I’ll be with you the entire time.”        You nod a response, “yeah, we got this.”        On the outside, you tried to seem cool and composed. On the inside however, you were a mess. Sure, you and soobin already had your fair share of cuddles when he showed up for a movie night at your place. And on the days he was too lazy to go back to his dorm, you would find him whining and groaning for you to make him breakfast the next day. But now you were expected to act that way in front of his family? That was a whole new level of stress you didn’t think about when you agreed to this.         After a while more of driving, it was a little over 10pm when soobin finally pulled up alongside the curd in front of his house. The remainder of the car ride had been relatively silent, except for the playlist that soobin had made for you, and the occasional mindless singing you would start that turned into a carpool karaoke. Getting off, soobin unloaded his and your luggage and lead you to the front door.        Probably noticing your nervous state, soobin grabbed your shaking hands. “I’m right here alright?” He smiled, “it’s show time.”        With that, he rang the doorbell. And not 15 seconds later, soobin’s sister answered the door.        “Soobin!” She greeted, pulling him into a hug, “we’ve been waiting for you and- oh! Y/n! I knew it. Same major, y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair. If it wasn’t you, i was about to kick his ass.”        “Hah, yeah, surprise?” You said, the last part sounding more like a question than a sentence.        “Aish, this boy. The previous night on the call, he just told us he’ll be bringing his girlfriend home, gave us a description but never told us who. Left us all to wonder who she was and well,” she chuckled, putting an arm around soobin’s shoulders, “if she even existed. I’m glad it’s you, the first time we met you, i already knew you two would end up together.”        “Wait, so you all took guesses on who it was?” Soobin chimed in, shooting a glare at his sister.        “Well, yea! All of us pretty much guessed y/n. Except for mom though, she’s kept quiet about it. But i guess it was just because she didn’t want to get her hopes up.”        Looking at soobins annoyed expression, you laughed. Shrugging of his sisters arm, soobin grabbed both your luggage, pushing past his sister and pulled them into the house. “Alright, alright, just let us in already, its freezing out here.”        “It’s nice to see you again y/n,” his sister said as she held the door open for you.        “Likewise.” You smiled before stepping in.        You’d never been to soobin’s house before. Sure, you’ve seen bits and pieces of it when the two of your FaceTimed over the holidays, but never in person. In the hallway where you stood, were the stairs that you presumed lead to the bedrooms. Sporadically placed were a few house plants that looked as if they had been watered quite recently.  The walls were littered with family photos, and most noticeably, soobin’s baby pictures. You smiled looking at them, taking a mental image of the cute, little baby this giant once was.        Closing the door behind you, soobins sister spoke, “you guys wait here. I think mom and dad are in the living room. I’ll go get them.”        As you saw her silhouette disappear towards one of the entries, you felt the nerves building up again, “soobin...” you tilted you head up to look at him, your face portraying nothing but worry.        “Don’t worry okay?” Taking your hand in his, gently squeezing for reassurance.“ Just follow my lead and pretend you’re in love with me. Which should be easy since I’m your favourite person,” he joked, in attempts to lighten your mood.        ‘Pretend to be in love with him’. Okay, shouldn’t be too hard, considering the fact that you actually were in love with him and spent years pretending not to be. “Yea, alright.”        Letting go of your hand, soobin walked forward to hug his parents when he saw them approaching.        “Soobin, we were starting to wonder how long more you would take,” his mom said. “How are you? How’s everything at school?”         “Everything’s fine,” he replied. Turning to you, he held out his hand for you to take. “Mom, dad, you know y/n.”        Accepting his hand, you stepped forward to greet his parents. Just hoping that your nervous trembling wasn’t too obvious to the naked eye.        “Ah of course! How could we ever forget,” his mom smiled.        “We always knew the two of you would end up together eventually. He’s always been so obvious about you,” his dad added, causing blood to rush to your cheeks, and soobin to immediately retaliate.        “Dad! Stop it. No i have not!” You looked around at him just in time to see him cross his arms and roll his eyes, cheeks pink and eyes shining. He met your eyes and looked away, but the grin on his face never faltered.        Hitting her husbands arm, soobins mom scolded, “aish, stop teasing them, they just got here. Speaking of which, have you two eaten?”        “No we havent, actually. We came right after school,” soobin answered.        “In that case, you can take yours and y/n stuff up to your room and get settled in. I’ll order some food for you. Pizza sound okay?” his mom spun soobin around, pushing him back to where your luggage laid.        “His room?” You thought out loud. Of course they were expecting you to share a room with soobin. What else could you have possibly thought.        “Of course his room,” his mom answered, “you have known each other for such a long time. And i have no doubts there are days that soobin stayed over at your apartment instead of his dorm anyway. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the couch.”        With that, you and soobin grabbed your things and headed up to his room. Sure, the nights soobin stayed over you have shared a bed before. But this time, it just felt different. Even though everything was still purely platonic, the element of you being in his home, pretending to be his girlfriend, was still no doubt intimidating.        “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Soobin asked rhetorically, snapping you out of your thoughts. He laughed, clearly taking the whole situation a lot lighter than you were.        Opening the door to his room, it was exactly how you pictured it when he called you. You stood at the doorway, it seemed so familiar, yet unknown at the same time. His bed in the corner of the room with a few pillows and plushies, at the other end, his desk and wardrobe filled with clothes he left behind. His walls were mainly bare, except for one that had a few old polaroids hanging loosing from the ceiling. It felt weird being there.        “Well, don’t just stand there,” soobin grabbed your luggage from you, pulling you in to the room so he could close the door behind you and crashing down on his bed. “First, let me give you the official welcome to mi casa. My family is a lot, but you already knew that. Make yourself at home.”        “Honestly, i cant believe they bought it so easily,” you let out, taking a seat next to him.        “Told you they would. My family probably loves you more than they love me.”        You laughed halfheartedly, still feeling a bit awkward about the whole thing.        “We should clean up before we head back to the wolves den for dinner. The bathroom is right down the hall to the right. You can go first, ill clear a drawer for you,” he offered.          You nod, gathering your things for the night.        This is all just pretend.

————-————-————-————-

       The shower definitely helped calm you down a bit. You loved the warmth of the water against your skin.        “It’s just for a week. Dont get used to it,” you muttered to yourself.        Getting out, you quickly dressed yourself in a tshirt and some shorts. The normal attire you wore to sleep, anything else was always just uncomfortable for you.          “You’re turn,” you announced when you entered soobins room again.        “That was quick. Here, take one of my sweaters.”        “What for?” You shot him a look, raising brow. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t stole his hoodies before, it was just the fact that he was offering it this time.       “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, aren’t you? Girlfriends always take their boyfriend’s clothes.”        Fishing a plain, red sweater out from his wardrobe, he threw it in your direction, hitting you directly in the face and causing you to yelp a little. “Besides, you already take all my hoodies. This is no different,” he continued, eyeing you as you pulled it over your head.        As usual, soobin’s clothes were huge on you. And this sweater was no doubt oversized, even for him. “How do i look?”        You looked to him when you didn’t get a reply. But this only caused him to turn away from you quickly, mumbling something to himself before answering, “it’s my clothes, it’ll look great on everyone.”        Scrambling to gather his things, he left for his shower. You could have swore you saw him blushing when he was looking at you. But you brushed it off as your overactive imagination. You decided to swiftly blow dry your hair before laying on his bed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for him. You were hungry, practically starving, but there was no way in hell you were going to face his family again on your own. With your new status, god knows what they would do or say.        A mere 15 minutes go by before you hear the door open again. Revealing a damp haired soobin, dressed in a white tee and sweatpants. A simple look you have seen many times over the years, but one that still made your head and thoughts hazy.        “Ready to go down?” He spoke, smirking at you, almost knowingly, “I’m starving.”        “Ye- yeah,” gathering your thoughts, bringing yourself back to reality.

————-————-————-————-

       Dinner with the family wasnt all that bad. Sure, there was the occasional teasing and questions. But that was to be expected. Any parent would have been curious, right?        You let soobin take the lead on most of those. You didn’t want your cover to get blown by having any clashing answers. Once in a while you would feel soobin grab your hand under the table when he needed your help, but for the most part, they were the basic questions like “since when?” Or “who confessed first?”. The usual relationship stuff, nothing too hard. And it was a lot easier with the fact that it was you and soobin, the two friends that have mastered the art of bullshitting your way out of situations.         At the end of the day, the awkwardness ended soon after it started. With it being past midnight, Soobin’s family had long gone to bed, leaving you two alone in the dimly lit kitchen to finish up your dinner, which had quickly became supper.        “So, how was day one of being my girlfriend?” He looked over to you, munching on another piece of pizza. Even in that horrible lighting, he still managed to take your breath away. No one could possibly look good with dull, ugly, yellow kitchen lighting, but somehow, he did. The way the soft light bounced off his skin, partnered with the reflection in his eye that gave that perfect shine to them. You were sure you looked horrid next to him.        “Mmm, it’s alright i guess,” you teased, earning a pout from soobin. “You big baby. I’m just kidding,” nudging him on the shoulder, causing you both the laugh.        You didn’t know why this question surprised you as much as it did. Maybe you wanted to flip the tables, or maybe you just weren’t expecting the answer he gave. “So how was day one of having me as your pretend girlfriend?”        He thought about it for a second before facing you and speaking. “Honestly, it’s been fun. Even though we haven’t done much. But then again, i always knew you would be great girlfriend to someone one day.”        ‘Someone’. If only you could tell him how much you wanted that someone to be him. If only you had the guts to say what’s was on your mind.        “Want to play some music?” Breaking the silence, soobin picked up his phone, quickly scrolling through his playlists before stopping on one he named ‘midnight’. “It’s just some chill songs i found that i thought would be nice to listen to at night.”        The playlist started and the first song to play was ‘what falling in love feels like’.        “Oh, i love this song,” you mindlessly stated between bites.        “Really?” Soobin replied. “I never heard you listen to classical music.”        Your eyes widened slightly when you realised what you said. You didn’t just listen to classical music. You’ve also imagined what it would be like to slow dance to it.        “I never really told anyone... but i always wanted to dance with someone to this song. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit,” you trailed off, the surface of the counter suddenly becoming more interesting. The dead of night had you confessing unspoken words.        There was another second of silence. You could feel soobin’s stare on your face. He was judging you. You were sure of it. Now you were just mentally preparing yourself for a laugh-        “Let’s dance.”        “What?” You weren’t expecting that. You shot your head up, seeing his outstretched hand.        “Let’s dance,” he repeated.        You reached for his hand, but didn’t grab it. You were hesitant. Never would you have thought you’d be slow dancing with your crush — of over 3 years, in the kitchen of his childhood home — at midnight.         He held you hand, helping you to stand before twirling you into his arms. He lead your hands around his neck and his around your waist. You fell in step, letting the rhythm control your movements. Your eyes gazing into his brown, glistening ones, a soft smile on his face. It felt like a dream. Your surroundings and any other disturbances dissolved. It was just you and him. Right here, right now. You stayed like that, dancing. Everything felt just... perfect.        “You know i’d never judge you right?” He said, his eyes watching your expressions closely. “I know that’s what you were thinking earlier.”        You looked away, unable to find the right words. Soobin always had a way to read you so easily. Every once in a while he would remind you how expressive your face was. And you were certain a blush had crept to your cheeks when you heard soobin chuckle.        “You silly girl. You can tell me anything. You know that. After all, you are my best friend.”        “Right... best friend,” you offered a small smile to mask the resignation in your words.         And just like that, the song ended. Soobin let go your waist. Leaving nothing the ghostly feeling of where his hands once were and the sensation of having his body so close to yours.        “It’s nearly 1am. We should go to bed soon,” he nodded towards the clock on the stove. “You can head up first. I’ll clean up here and join you in a bit.”        You nodded. Once you were back in his room, you crashed on his bed. Regret and agony the only things left for you to feel.        Why did you agree to this. You knew it would be hard. But not this hard.        You rolled over to your side of the bed. And true to his word, soobin entered shortly after. Climbing under the covers with you, poking your side when you paid no attention to him.        You jumped, immediately facing him. “What was that for!?”        “Nothing,” he laughed. “It’s just fun to do that to you. I have a fun day planned tomorrow, so get up early. Good night y/n.”        “Good night, asshole.” You scoffed.

.

.

.

       The next morning you woke up to a post-it on your head. You tore it off and looked around the room but soobin was nowhere to be seen. You groaned, sitting up to stretch and read the note.        ‘Wake up sleepyhead. Come to the kitchen for breakfast.’        Oh, how you wished the entire night before had been a dream. But alas, it wasn’t. Pulling yourself out of bed, you cleaned yourself up and descend the stairs. The smell of fresh pancakes engulfing the entire house.        “Good morning y/n,” soobin’s dad greeted you when you entered the kitchen. “Grab a seat. Breakfast is almost done.”        “Your dad cooks?” You whispered as you pulled out the stool next to soobin.        “Mainly breakfast. But yes,” he whispered back.        Soobin’s dad placed a plate in front of each of you. 3 pancakes a piece, and more to come. “Butter or maple syrup?”        “Both,” soobin smugly answered.        “And you y/n?”        “Ill have both as well, thanks,” you smiled before facing soobin. “Where’s your mom and sister?”        “My mom went to the store. And my sister doesn’t get up till later.” Soobin grabbed the syrup his father had just put on the table and poured a generous amount. His attention was fully on his food.        You couldn’t help but grin at his childlike manner. He always loved breakfast. Or any dish that can be both sweet and savoury actually. You both enjoyed your breakfast, watching soobin’s father flip pancakes, cheering when it landed, and messing around while cooking as your morning source of entertainment.        “The pancakes are really good, mr choi,” you complimented.        “Why, thank you y/n. You always have been such well mannered,” he said. “Hopefully some of that will rub off on my son soon.”        “Hey! I am well mannered,” soobin retorted.        “Oh, really now,” you taunted, giving him a look of disbelief.        Soobin tsked, lightly pushing you over. “Okay, whatever. Anyways, hurry up. I’m going to show you around town today.”        “You two don’t come back too late now,” his father added. “And bring a coat, it’s supposed to get colder today.”        Stuffing down the remainder of his food, soobin linked your arms and dragged you out of the kitchen the moment he saw your plate empty.        “Hey! I’m not done yet, i wanted one mo-!”        “Bye dad!” Soobin interrupted, ignoring your plea.

————-————-————-————-

       “So much being well mannered.” You mocked.        “Not my fault you wanted to eat so much,” he shrugged.        Both of you strolled along the road. You weren’t sure where soobin was bringing you, other than his aforementioned ‘town’. Despite it just being the two of you, soobin still dressed nicely, in a turtleneck and scarf with a black coat to go over it.        “Wait...” you started, noticing a passing sign. “Why does that say the town is the other way?”        “Cause i changed my mind. I’m bringing you somewhere else,” he replied, shooting you one of his, oh so charming, eye smiles. “I’ll bring you to town another day.”        “This way’s to the forest,” you raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to kill me or something? After 6 years of friendship. This is how you want to end it?” You dramatically gripped your chest and joked. “I’m sorry for whatever i did. I can change, I swear.”        Soobin rolled his eyes and guffawed. “Of course. This has been my plan all along. To befriend you then brutally murder you among the trees where no one can find your body,” he played along. “Relax, I’m no murderer. An avid liar? Maybe. But not a murderer. I just want to show you something.”         You hummed a response and continued on your way. Not long after, soobin was leading you down a path in the deserted forest. As the path reached deeper into the woods, the trees got denser.        “Erm, soobin, where are we going?” You called from behind him. “I’m really starting to question the whole murder thing.”        You’re not going to lie when you say the woods kind of crept you out. You could have sworn you felt someone behind you. But when you turned around, there wasn’t a soul. The twigs and dead leaves making a deafening crunch under your feet as the — seemingly never-ending — journey continued.        “Just trust me,” he provided a simple answer that proved to be of no help in ensuring you.       As you continued, the sound of snapping twigs got louder. You turned the corner and the sudden sound of birds fleeing their nest startled you, causing you to jump and grab soobin’s coat from the back.         “Are you really that scared?” He laughed. “Don’t worry,” he continued, turning around and reaching for your hand. Gently running his thumb over yours the rest of the way. “We’re almost there. It’s worth it, i promise.”        Having his hand in yours definitely provided some comfort. But it was also making you feel things that you shouldn’t be feeling. After another minute of walking, you finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The horrid crunching sound had been washed out by the sound of, well, rushing water.        A waterfall.        You gasped in astonishment at the clarity of the Caribbean-blue waterfall. It was spurting over the basalt rock, spilling eel-like over the ledges. Its clamorous passage at the foot of the mountain threw up bubbles of spray. They sparkled uneasily in the beams of light that shined through the leaves of surrounding trees.        When it toppled into the ecstasy-pool, it foamed it at the bottom. The rest of the pool was as clear as cellophane, allowing you to see down into the rocky bottom. Fronds of forest-green plants waved gently in the depths. The waterfall looked like a sheet of blue velour as it swished down. Its edges were hemmed with whipped-white lines.        “Wow,” was all you managed to utter out.        “I told you it was worth it,” soobin grinned. “Come on.” He lead you closer, collapsing on the bank and letting the nougat sweet smell of flowers wash over him.        You followed suit. “How did you find this place?”        “A friend of mine showed it to me when we were kids.” He said, leaning back against his palms. “We used to hang out all the time here. The five of us. That is, until i moved away for high school.        “I wonder what they’re up to now.” He added after a slight pause.        “You don’t see them when you come back for the holidays?” You asked.        Soobin shook his head. “I don’t get to see them much anymore. I barely leave my house, y/n, you know that. Besides, they’re all busy with their own lives.”        You listened to soobin reminisce about his childhood. You would listen to soobin talk for hours if you could. His words are were like gold to you, or perhaps some elixir you’ve been waiting all your days to hear. He had nothing but good things to say. It sounded like he had a lot of fun here, in the small town he grew up in. You both sat there for a while, gawking at the waterfall when the suddenly rustling of the bushes behind you caught your attention.        “Y/n,” soobin stood up, holding you behind him as the rustling got louder. And then a figure walked through, a boy. He was wearing a brown furry jacket. His hair was a strange shade a pink, but it complimented his skin tone nicely.        “Soobin?” The boy said, folding his arms. “No way. Is that actually you? Mr choi soobin. After all these years.”          “Yeonjun?” Soobin replied, letting go of you and walking up to yeonjun. “What are you doing here?”        “I was on my way out and thought i saw you earlier entering the forest so i decided to follow you. Who else knows this place anyway?” Yeonjun laughed, swinging an arm around soobin’s shoulder.        “So you practically followed, what could have been, a complete stranger into the forest?” Soobin shot him a look. To that, yeonjun just smiled and nodded. “You never change, do you?”        “Nope,” yeonjun answered confidently. “Anyways, are you going to introduce me to the pretty lady or do i have to do that myself?” He gestured a smile towards you.        Beside him, soobin stiffened, his jaw slightly tensing before he answered. “Right... Yeonjun, y/n. We met in high school, she’s my best friend.  Y/n, yeonjun. He was one of my friends i was telling you about-”        “Yeah, until this bastard moved, changed his number and practically became a hermit that never left his house much.” Yeonjun jibed.        “Hmm, that sounds about right. The only place I’ve seen him, other than class or the library, is at my apartment binge watching shows,” you added, causing yeonjun to burst out a laugh.        “You guys are mean.” Soobin grumbled, pushing yeonjun’s arm off him.        “I have a feeling she and i are going to be great friends.” Yeonjun said matter-of-factly.        The three of you sat there, talking for what seemed like hours. Soobin and yeonjun continued to tell you about the different adventures they had together as kids with their friends, beomgyu, kai and taehyun. They recounted all the accidents that happened, all the fun moments they had together. Yeonjun eventually proceeded to tell you about all the embarrassing soobin stories he could think of, sharing jokes and making you laugh. The entire time though, soobin barely directed any conversation at you. Let alone laugh at Yeonjun’s ‘jokes’.        As your laughter died down, yeonjun spoke again. “I have to ask though, what’s she doing doing here? Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just curious. Does she live around here too?”        You looked to soobin, unsure of how or what to answer.        “It’s okay, yeonjun won’t snitch,” he said. “Y/n’s pretending to be my girlfriend for the holiday.”         It hurt you every time he said it. In your head you wished so badly for it to be real. To think, by now you would have learnt that wishing only wounds the heart. And each time soobin said it out loud, it was like a punch to the gut.        “Pretending to be your-“ yeonjun cut himself off by scoffing. “What for?”        “Well....” soobin started explaining the whole situation to yeonjun. To which the only response he got out of the other boy was mockery and disbelief.        “Are you serious?!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “So you two aren’t together?”        You shook your head.        “Oh... good....” he mumbled, grinning in the process. “You have got to be kidding me. But you guys do you, i guess. My lips are sealed.        “I hate to ruin the moment but i have to go. It was nice meeting you y/n.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “It was nice to see you again too, soobin. But let know, the next time you’re back.”        “Right, ill keep that in mind.” Soobin replied.        Just as yeonjun started to walk away, he stopped and turned around once more. “Oh! Right. How long are you guys staying? I’m meeting beomgyu, tae and kai on monday at the diner. You should come,” his eyes travelled to you, “both of you.”        “We cant-“        “We would love to!” You cut soobin off, “come on soobin, you haven’t seen your friends in ages. I would be nice to say ‘hi’ again.”         Soobin stared at you for a second. Maybe it was the excitement in your face or maybe he truly did want to see his friends again. But in the end he agreed.          “Great! Ill see you two monday at 5.” Yeonjun ended, giving a small salute before leaving, for real this time.        Soobin went back to the bay, laying down on the grass, letting out a long held sigh. He stared up at the sky that was quickly becoming darker. The stars and moon announcing their arrival.        “You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to him.        “Yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” He answered, his eyes still closed.        “I don’t know. You just seemed... off just now. Like my or yeonjun’s presence bothered you.”        “It’s nothing. Im just tired.” He sighed again, sitting up. “While on the subject, we should head back. It’s getting dark.”        He stood up and started walking without another word.        Was he mad at you? No... he had no reason to be, right? Was he mad about the joke you made with yeonjun?        You quickly caught up to him and followed him out of the forest. Other than your footsteps against the concrete road and the cicadas that came out to say their daily greetings, the awkward silence followed the rest of the way.        “I’m not annoyed at you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” soobin broke the silence. The entire walk you had your focus on the ground, not noticing the stolen glances soobin took. “Stop sulking. People are going to think i kicked your puppy or something.” He chuckled, bending his waist slight to look at your face.        His face was mere inches away from yours. Memories from the previous night came flooding back. You didn’t offer a response, not trusting the words that would escape your lips in that moment. Instead just turning your face to the other side to avoid his stare. Soobin let out a light hearted laugh and continued walking.          You recalled how soobin always said you had an expressive face. He must have seen something you didn’t realise.        The sky got darker as you continued down the road. The cool winter breeze greeting the concrete and skin just the same, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. Mentally cursing the fact that, other than your khaki coat, you didn’t think to wear more layers that morning.        Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you cold?” Soobin asked, already shedding off his cherry red, wool scarf.        “No, it’s alright, you’ll get cold,” grabbing his hands to stop his actions.        “I’ll be fine. And we’re only about 5 minutes away,” he argued, wrapping his scarf around your neck. He took your hand, pulling you behind him the rest of the way quickly before you ‘caught a cold’.        The scarf sat snug to your skin, soft and gentle, the ends becoming a colourful flag in the wintry winds. It was still warm from where it sat before. You could smell of his cologne on it. Faint, from the day’s activities. But still prominent enough to know it’s existence.        Your hands trembled in his and you thanked the cold for that excuse. Burying your face deeper into his scarf before he could make out the slight blush that painted your cheeks.        When you reached soobin’s home again, there was a faint chattering echoing through house.        “Oh, i think my older sister’s came for a visit.”        Soobin’s older sister. The one that’s the account, married, with the baby — soobin’s nephew — and the lovely husband. You’ve only ever met them once, well that, and the occasional pictures soobin would send you of him and his nephew. Seeing soobin with babies did things to your heart thats you didn’t like. You’ve already imagined the unlikely scenario of what it would be like to have soobin as your boyfriend. You can’t go fantasising an entire family as well. But you had to admit, he would make a great dad one day.        “Soobin!” His older sister ran and hugged him. He’s always had such a close bond with his siblings. “Mom and dad told me you brought your girlfriend home this time.” She wiggled her eyebrows.        “Hey sis. And yeah, y/n. You know her,” soobin turned to you.        “Of course. The last time i saw you two I knew you’d end up together.” She cheered as if she had just won the lottery.        So, from what you’ve gathered, soobin’s entire family had always had some hopes on the two of two. You wanted to smile at that fact. But at same time, you were lying to them right now. It was a bittersweet feeling.        The remainder of the night went on rather unproductive. You had dinner with his family, chatted with them, played with the baby and that was about it. The worst part came when the family decided to watch a movie together. The movie was great, dont get me wrong. You all sat together and watched kingsman again. Even though it was the tenth time you’ve seen it, it was still yours and Soobin’s favourite.        The bad part came when you had to find a seat. The family couch say four, soobin’s mom, dad and sisters. The older’s husband took one of the arm chairs, leaving you and soobin to share the other. In other words, you ended up having to sit on his lap.        “I can just sit on the floor, its no problem,” you suggested.        “Nonsense. I won’t let you sit on the floor,” soobin rebutted, holding your waist, pulling you back onto his lap.        You swear, if it wasn’t for the dimness of the room, the redness of your face would have matched that of the fire place. Throughout the movie you found it extremely hard to pay attention. Soobin had left one of his hands to rest on your knee and the other around your back. Sure, he was probably just putting on a show for his family. But he didn’t have to do the thumb thing as well. Or gently whisper in your ear, so close that you could feel his breath against your neck.          The rest of the time you couldn’t help but fidget in your seat — which just so happened to be soobin’s lap. As interesting as the fight scene on screen was or the dramatic music playing, the only thing you could focus on was the fact that soobin’s hand had now traveled to your thigh.        And underneath you, soobin’s breathing was becoming short and uneven. He was starting to stir as well before getting up, forcing you to stand and murmuring, “I’m going to head to bed early. You guys enjoy the rest of the movie.”        Within the next beat of the soundtrack, he was dashing out of the living room and running up the stairs.        What...?        You weren’t the only one wondering that. Soobin’s family were now staring at you, his mothers brows furrowed, his sister’s head tilted quizzically. “He said he’s tired,” you blurted, face-palming in your head.        Great. You already felt out of place and this certainly wasn’t helping. You sat down on the, now vacant, chair and continued the rest of the movie with his family.        I’m sure he’s fine. You can always ask him tomorrow.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

       You woke up to an empty bed again. But this time there was no post it note or anything from soobin. So you assumed he’d be in the kitchen like before.        “Morning y/n,” it was his older sister this time.        “Morning.” You looked around. No sight of soobin. “Where’s soobin?”        “Oh he didn’t tell you? He went out for a walk around 20 minutes ago.”        Why didn’t he wait for you?        “Yeah, he didn’t. Did he say where he was going or when he’ll be back?” You asked.        To that, she just shook her head.        Oh...

       “I almost forgot,” she continued. “There was a note for you. I left it on the counter for you.”

       You picked it up, hoping to see Soobin’s name as the regards, telling you his whereabouts. Instead, the note was fairly short.

Hey y/n!

Once again i just wanted to welcome you to town. It was really nice meeting you yesterday! Maybe we could hang out some time?

(Hopefully) Your friend,

Yeonjun

       Did Soobin see it? Either way, why does it matter.        After breakfast, you decided to wait for soobin to come home. If he didn’t tell where he was going, it means he cant be gone long, right? You sat in his room, figuring it would be the only place you didnt have to face his family members.        It was only about an hour and a half of waiting and a lunch break, that you got bored. You could only scroll your phone so much before it started to get more redundant than it already was. So, checking the weather report, you got dressed and left for a walk around. You hadn’t seen much of the area yet, it wouldn’t be harmful to do some exploring. Learning your lesson from yesterday, you put on a wool sweater underneath your coat. A pair of dr marten to match.         It was a rather fine day out. You walked under the sun that warmed your skin, but the cool winds keeping the temperature cool enough. The only thing that would make this better would be if soobin were with you...        “Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice call from behind you.        You turned around and saw a familiar lock of pink hair running towards you, frantically waving his arms. He was wearing a leather jacket today. Behind him was someone else that chased after him. He had nicely styled, bleached blonde hair and was slightly short than yeonjun was.        “Oh, hi.” You greeted the two of them. “Fancy running into you again.”        “I know, right!” He agreed, a bit more enthusiastically than what you would imagine. “Why are you alone? Where’s soobin?”        “No clue. He just took off this morning. Didn’t tell me anything and i got bored of sitting around alone.”        “Maybe the pressure of a relationship getting to him,” yeonjun suggested.        “It’s fake though,” you mocked.        He just shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less of a commitment.”        You hummed a reply. “Fair enough.”        “Anyway. If you have nothing better to do... taehyun and i,” he said, gesturing towards to boy beside him, “were just headed to the arcade in town. Care to join us?”        “Sure, I don’t see why not.”        You followed as yeonjun and taehyun lead you through the town soobin said he would bring you to. Every corner they turned, they greeted someone new. From little kids to elderly ladies and gentlemen. Small town, i guess everyone knew everyone.        Eventually, they stopped in front of a building, the arcade. The pings from the pinball machines, the bullets from the shooting games, and the ‘jackpot’ announcements, all a dead give away. From the outside, the building looked old and rundown. The paint was old and cracking as if it hadn’t been repainted in years. Even the neon signs provided to the retro aesthetic, casting a purple-red hue over everything.        You stood there, taking in the atmosphere for a second. It sure was different from any arcade you had back in the city. You glanced around, when a figure at one of the pinball machines caught your eye.        “Soobin?” You spoke out loud.        Confused, yeonjun and taehyun followed your gaze to said figure.        “What in the?” You walked up to him. the further into the arcade you went, the louder everything got. Tapping him on the shoulder, you just about had to yell to have any sort of conversation.        “Y/n?” He asked, looking at you with the same expression as culprit that had just been caught red-handed.        You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “So you ditched me to come play games alone?”        “Um, kind of? Not really though,” he said. His eyes darting towards the two boys that to came up behind you. “You came with taehyun and... Yeonjun?”        “Hey soob, long time no see,” taehyun added.        “I went out for a walk and ran into them,” a quick and easy reason. “You could have just told me if you wanted to come to town alone, you know? You don’t have to sneak off at the crack of dawn.”        “Nice to see you too tae. And I do want to show you around the town. It’s just,” his eyes travelled between you and yeonjun, back to you in a blink. “I just needed a break from things for a while.”        “Hm, alright,” you accepted his explanation, but something still felt weird.        “Since we’re already here, there’s no use standing around.” Yeonjun spoke. “Y/n, come play the shooting game with me!”        Before you could reply, yeonjun was already dragging you towards one of the machines. Leaving taehyun and soobin to do whatever it was they did. He handed you one of the guns available and scanned his arcade card. The entire time you could feel eyes watching you, but shook it off.        Yeonjun was pretty good at the game, you had to admit. He spent a lot of time here, you assumed. Time seemed to disappear the longer you were in the arcade. The atmosphere around you never changed. It was still as lively and colourful as when you first walked in. The bright lights and loud music blasting, disrupting your senses. But outside, the sun was quickly setting.        “Good game, y/n,” taehyun offered a handshake after you beat him at yet another game of air hockey.        You took it. “Not too shabby yourself.”        Beside you, yeonjun and soobin clapped for your victory.        “We should probably go back soon,” Soobin said, showing the clock on his phone. It was nearly 8pm. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.        You all travelled back together. Turns out yeonjun and taehyun only lived a street away from soobin.        “See you tomorrow,” taehyun and yeonjun waved goodbye as you parted ways, leaving you and soobin to go your way.        Neither of you said a thing to each other. And for reason you were having trouble thinking of a conversation starter, this hasn’t happened before. Usually you and soobin had endless things to talk about. It didn’t matter how stupid or unimaginable it was, the two of you never ran out of things to say.        “When you were a kid, did you ever pretend you were smoking in winter?” You said the first thing that came to mind, the cold air making your breath visible, helping to elaborate your question. You laughed at yourself, holding your fingers up in a peace sign, imagining a cigarette between them.        “Yeah, when i was like 7.”        Okay, ouch.        Soobin’s answer was short, providing no further conversation. You pressed your lips together, stuffing your hands in your pockets as embarrassment crept up on you. So much for never feeling judged.        The rest of the night you didn’t speak much. Every attempt you made just being shot down with one liners. Every time you showed soobin a funny video or meme, he gave little to no response. And eventually you gave up.        This continued to the following day. Sure, soobin was an introvert. You knew that. But he’s never ignored you to this extent. Was he getting sick of having you around everyday? If that was the case, he should just tell you, you’d give him all the space he needs.        You can’t lie and say you weren’t hurt by that thought. Your crush was ignoring you. That would have hurt anyone. And right now, you felt nothing more than a parasite in his home.        “Come on, we have to go meet the others,” the first words he’s said to you in hours.

      You followed quietly as soobin brought you to the diner. When you arrived, the others were already there. Yeonjun and taehyun, along with two new faces. Beomgyu and Huening Kai, you figured from previous conversations.        They sat at a semi-circle booth meant for four with two extra chairs at the end. One of which occupied by taehyun as the other three shared the banquette bench.         “Soobin! Y/n!” They waved.         Yeonjun sat at one of the ends and shifted when he spotted you enter. “Y/n, i saved you a seat next to me,” he said smugly, smirking and cocking his head to the space beside him.        You rolled your eyes at his antics, lips curling upwards. Soobin’s expression remained hard, unbothered and unimpressed even. But you didn’t question it, he’s been like that since yesterday. And frankly, you’ve gotten sick of it. Might as well spend time with someone that actually wants your attention.        You got along well with the boys. You learnt that Kai and taehyun went to the same school and beomgyu had just graduated recently. Most of the time though, was spent whispering jokes between yeonjun and yourself. And at some point of the night, he had managed to sneak an around the back of the booth. On the other side, Beomgyu and Kai snickered to each other and eventually shook hands, some bet or deal you presumed.        All of a sudden you heard one of the chairs beside you shift. The feet scratching against the tiled floor. And the next thing you knew, soobin was walking out the door, the bell ringing behind him.        “Where’s he going?” Kai asked.        “No clue,” Beomgyu answered. Taehyun just shrugged. All your attentions still on the door that had already been shut.        “Um, ill go check on him,” you announced, running out of the diner after him. Sure, you and him weren’t on good terms at the moment, but nontheless he was still your best friend, and a huge part of you still cared for him.         “Soobin, wait!” You called, but he kept walking.        “Soobin!” You tried again, chasing after him.        “Stop right there choi soobin!” You yelled, your voice echoing through the empty street. The boys silhouette stood still. But never did he turn to look at you. “Dont you dare take another step!”        Never once in five years have you ever felt intimidated by him. But with his large figure being illuminated by nothing but the dull, yellow street lights, you couldn’t say that anymore. There was silence as you gathered your thoughts, making your way towards him. You had him right in front of you. Now what? You wanted soobin back. Your soobin.        “What’s going on with you?” Your feet stopped on their own accord, right behind the tall boy. “You’ve been acting strange.”        No answer.        “Soobin, don’t ignore me!” You said again, desperation and annoyance laced in your tone.        “I don’t know what you want me to say y/n,” he sighed, trying to keep his temper from exploding.        “I want a damn explanation, soobin,” anger from the previous day slowly consuming you. “Do you know how much of an asshole you’re being? God! I try to talk to you, but it’s just like i’m talking to a god damn wall! So, you can either tell me what’s going on or I’m on the next bus home tomorrow.”        No answer. But you could tell the last part hit him hard. He couldn’t look at you. If he did, he was sure you would see the remorse and anger in his eyes. He hated that you were mad. He hated that you were yelling. But most of all he hated that he was the cause of it.       “You asked me to come play girlfriend with you and i did,” you sighed, continuing when he started walking again. “I only did because,” swallowed the lump in your throat, “you’re... you’re my best friend.”        Best friend.        “I’m your best friend... you can me anything, you know that.” You quoted his words.        “There’s some things better left unsaid,” he offered before walking away again. “I’m sorry y/n.”        “No!” You cried, stopping his tracks. “Apology not accepted.”        You could see frustration building in soobin. His hand pinching his temple, his shoulders tensed as you spoke. “You said you’d be by my side the whole time! But since the waterfall you’ve barely talked to me! You leave me in situations on my own, you’re ignoring me and you randomly take off without a word. You’re doing it right now! So, again, you can either tell me what’s going on or-“        “It’s because i love you, okay!?”        Now it was your turn to stay silent.        Soobin let out a sigh, turning to face you. “Is that what you want to hear?! I love you, y/n!” His tone got softer, “I love you so much. For as long as i can remember knowing you. It hurts when I see you with other people. Especially people that so blatantly flirt with you in front of me. You’re stunning, beautiful. Even a fool could see it. But you’re also so much more than that.        “You were the only person that bothered to come talk to me the first day of school. Others probably viewed me as the weird, loser kid that sat alone during lunch. But you didn’t. You were my first and only friend for years. Before i knew it, i had a crush on you. At first, i thought it was just a phase. But it wasn’t, y/n. And now, im so hopelessly head over heels for you.        “I know, I haven’t earned your heart. I never will. I could spend a million years worshiping you and still not earn it. You’re my best friend, i know I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I know you’re mad at me. And i know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please... please, don’t leave me.”        He sounded raw, real in a way you’ve never heard before. When he was done, he was closely inspecting the road, afraid to look up. Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, waiting for your rejection.        “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked, keeping emotion from your voice.        He shrugged and laughed. “You’re my best friend, I didn’t want to lose you.”        You let one hand slide against his cheek, resting your palm there. “You wouldn’t have.”        “Wha-“        “I love you too, you doofus.”        You felt the pull of a muscle as his lips twitched. “Really?”        “Yes. Really. For as long as i can remember.”        Soobin, your best friend — now, boyfriend — pulled you into his arms. “I love you, y/f/n. And I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been. What can i say to make you forgive me?”        “Words only mean so much. Actions speak louder, don’t you agree?”        “I do.”        He lowered his head and brushed his lips against yours.        “Am i forgiven?” He asked rhetorically.        You laugh. “Only because i love you.”        “Yes! I told you so!” You turned and saw Kai yelling and celebrating, pointing fingers at beomgyu. Taehyun and yeonjun shaking their heads in disappointment.        What a crazy group of friends they were.

.

.

.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 4

A/N  Here’s the next chapter installment of Ginger Snap.  I now have this story mentally plotted to its conclusion.  It will have a total of 6 chapters, with perhaps a wee epilogue.  In keeping with the theme, the title of this chapter is “Where There’s Smoke”.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I glanced around the sitting room, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes.  Well, not a stranger.  Through Jamie’s eyes.

We had sold most of our furniture before leaving Boston, not considering it worth the expense of shipping across the Atlantic.  Frank hired an interior decorating firm to furnish the third floor Southside flat before we arrived.  The overall impression was stylish, if a bit soulless.  Having grown up a virtual nomad, there were no mementos or heirlooms to speak for my personal journey.  For the first time, I regretted their absence.

The buzzer rang, and I shook away my wistfulness.  Jamie’s tousled curls and reckless grin greeted me as I opened the door.  Today he wore a fitted navy jumper, faded grey jeans with frays about the ankles and the ubiquitous work boots.  A messenger bag was slung across his broad chest.  

“I hope I wasn’t supposed to supply the ingredients for today’s lesson, because my cupboards are bare,” I remarked after inviting him in.

“Jus’ as well.  I wouldna squander yer food.  I have all we need right here.”  Reaching into his bag, he removed a clear container filled with chunks of pink meat swimming in a broth of blood.  I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“What sort of dish will I be making with those?”

Those summer eyes shone in merry provocation.

“No’ a dish, Arsonist.  An experiment.”  

Two saucepans were set on the stove.  Jamie had me place a few pieces of meat into the water of one pot before it warmed.  To the other I added a pinch of salt and a clove of garlic, but waited until it came to a boil before adding the chicken.  After five minutes, I used tongs to move the now-pale flesh to waiting salad plates.  Neither looked particularly appetizing, but the first pot yielded a glutinous blob.

“I suppose this is the control group,” I remarked, looking at Jamie where he leaned against my countertop, ankles crossed like a cover model.  “I’m already quite familiar with what culinary failure looks like, thank you.”

“No’ failure.  Variability,” my teacher argued.  “See here?  If ye want meat tae dissolve til it doesna hold its texture, low heat is key.  An’ if ye want tae infuse it with flavour, always combine heat an’ seasoning at the same time.”

I took a small nibble of chicken from the second pot, and sure enough it tasted mildly of garlic.  It was otherwise quite bland, though.  When I commented on this, Jamie nodded in excitement.

“Aye, verra good.  Nature seeks equilibrium, as ye well know.  Sae now ye have poultry tha’ tastes o’ water and water tha’ tastes o’ chicken.  If ye were makin’ a stew or chicken stock, t’would be a good thing.  Fer anything else, tis shite.”

I laughed, getting into the spirit of his well-executed game.

“Have ye any music?” he asked while we cleared away the results of round one.  “I always cook better with a bit o’ background noise.”

There was a high-end stereo system in the living room, but I doubted Jamie would be interested in Frank’s collection of Brahms, Mahler and Celtic harp.  Seeing my hesitation, Jamie dug out a portable speaker from his bag.

“Do ye mind?”  I shook my head and soon my kitchen hummed with guitar chords and plangent vocals.

The lesson lasted far longer than the scheduled hour.  Jamie had me bake, fry, roast and braise different samples, each time explaining why a particular technique might be used and insisting I taste the result.  It was so much fun, I shed my habitual reticence while cooking.

“An’ now fer the pièce de résistance,” Jamie announced in dramatic tones.  From his seemingly bottomless messenger bag he removed what appeared to be a miniature flame thrower.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, forgetting myself.

“I wanted ye tae ken there’s a place fer fire in the kitchen, Arsonist.  Tis only a question of picking yer moment.”

With a flick of his lighter, he set the butane alight and handed me the small kitchen torch.  Using extreme caution, I seared the outside of the two remaining morsels until they were a rich caramel colour.  Jamie then wrapped them in foil, placing them in the oven to finish cooking.  When they were cool enough to sample, the outside was pleasingly crunchy and sweet, while the inside swam in moist chicken-y flavour.  We both declared them the winner.

“Tis a funny thing about fire,” Jamie remarked as he packed up his bag to leave by the more conventional front door route.  “It can remain hidden beneath the surface, burying its secrets deep inside.  Doesna mean it doesn’t burn, though.”

I thought about what he’d said long after he was gone, leaving me alone with his signature scent of rising bread and salt air.

That weekend, I blamed the poor weather when I declined Frank’s offer to shop for an engagement ring.

***

The next week, instead of asking to be buzzed inside, Jamie requested that I join him downstairs.

Grabbing a Mackintosh, my purse and slipping into comfortable walking shoes, I joined Jamie outside my door.  He was particularly animated, despite the foul weather.

“We should ha’ started wi’ this lesson, but t’wasn’t the right day fer it,” he explained as we walked towards the farmers’ market that took place twice a week in the shadow of Castle Hill.

I considered protesting that I already knew how to shop for food, but Jamie’s enthusiasm was contagious.

We stopped at every stall, sampling the foodstuff on display, which was surprisingly varied despite it being November.  Jamie knew most of the merchants by name and our progress was regularly halted by conversations on topics as varied as his family’s health, the latest rugby results and Scottish politics.  I envied his wide circle of acquaintance and apparent ease interacting with them.  There was no pretense, no stiffness, just a man who inhabited every square centimetre of his life to the fullest.

Jamie insisted that I taste various produce before adding it to the cloth bag he’d provided.  Honey-crisp apples.  Peppery radishes.  Herb-infused venison sausage.  

“Close yer eyes,” he instructed when I was practically dizzy with all the flavours.  Still, I complied immediately.  A rubbery moisture tickled my lips.  “Open,” he said simply.  I opened.  “Tell me what ye taste, Arsonist.”

I chewed the morsel of cheese thoughtfully, letting the taste and texture coat my mouth before finally swallowing.

“Creamy.  Thick.  Salty.  Sorrel.”

I opened my eyes only to fall into the inky vortex of Jamie’s pupils, which had expanded to almost eclipse his irises.  His hand still hovered near my mouth, muscles frozen in abstraction.  The cheesemonger let out an awkward little cough.  Jamie blinked, and the moment vanished.

“Sorrel?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Yer lass has a fine palate, Fraser.  My sheep graze in fields full o’ it.”

I allowed myself a smug little smile.  Neither of us corrected the merchant’s presumptive pronoun.

Later that evening, I sat cross-legged before the fire with a picnic for one.  Frank had called from his office earlier to say he was working on notes for an upcoming symposium.  Before me lay the results of the afternoon’s market adventure.  Closing my eyes as I ate,  every mouthful set my senses ablaze.

We never found time to visit the jeweler that weekend either.

***

The next week, I fell ill with a miserable head cold.   Frank was in Oxford for his symposium, so I called Ginger Snap myself and explained to Jenny in a hoarse voice that Jamie should avoid coming to my flat at all costs.

I was curled up in a mentholated daze when there was a series of knocks.  It took several minutes to free myself from my blanket cocoon and shuffle to the front door.  Glancing in the entryway mirror, my hair called to mind an electrified poodle and my nose was twelve shades of raw, but I opened the door anyway.  No-one was there.  Leaning out to peer down the hallway, I practically tripped over a brown paper bag resting at my feet.

Inside was a metal thermos, still quite warm to the touch.  As I unscrewed the cap, my stuffed nose was assailed by fragrant steam.  Homemade cock-a-leekie soup.  I felt a glow fill my chest that had nothing to do with my fever.  Pouring a helping into a mug, I shuffled back to my couch-nest.  I felt better already.

***

The following week, Jamie was distracted.  I’d thanked him profusely for the soup, and asked if he could show me how to make it for myself.  As the chicken thighs and stock began to warm, however, I caught him glancing regularly at his phone, fingers drumming against his thigh.

“Are you expecting an important text?” I finally asked.

“Hmm?  Och, Arsonist, I’m verra sorry.  Tis only that we got a last-minute request tae cater a big corporate Christmas party, an’ Jenny is beside herself wi’ worrying.”  He tucked him phone into the pocket of his cargo pants.

“When’s the party?”

“T’morrow,” he confessed.

“What!  Jamie, what are you doing here?  You should have called me to reschedule.”

“T’wouldna be fair, what wi’ us missing last week on account of yer sniffles.  An’ wi’ Christmas ‘round the corner, I didna ken when I’d... er, when we’d have time for another lesson.”

I turned off the burner with a decisive twist.  Jamie opened his mouth to lodge a protest, but I beat him to the punch.

“Jamie, the soup will keep.  Growing your business is more important. I wish there was something more I could do to help, but under the circumstances...”

“Come wi’ me?” he blurted out.

I was nodding before the words finished leaving his mouth.  Notwithstanding the fact that he had just literally been teaching me how to boil water, I didn’t want to lose his company so soon.   We likely wouldn’t see one another again until after the New Year.

It was a thirty minute walk to Leith.  Jamie could probably have covered the distance in half that with his long strides, were it not for me trotting along beside him.  We stopped at several shops along the way to pick up provisions, arriving at Ginger Snap with our arms laden with the freshest food Edinburgh had to offer.

I had expected Jenny and Jamie to be working alone, but the fire station was abuzz with activity.  I was hastily introduced to Angus, a distant Fraser cousin; Mary, a childhood friend of Jenny’s; and Murtagh, Jamie and Jenny’s godfather.  They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and I stood awkwardly to one side, wondering what the hell I was doing there.  I was preparing to make my excuses when Jamie called me over to a spare station.  He gestured to the commercial-sized sink, which was full of vegetables of every dimension and colour.

“Claire, I need ye tae rinse and then cut these inta nice even pieces.  Can ye do tha’ fer me?”

"Consider it done, chef,” I said with a jaunty salute.

There was a feeling of camaraderie as we each went about our assigned tasks.  I chopped.  Mary baked.  Angus filleted.  Jamie cooked, and Jenny plated the various canapés, salads and sauces and stored them in the enormous refrigerators that lined the back wall.    Murtagh’s role seemed mostly to keep the troops in line with an assortment of verbal barbs. 

Music played in the background.  Volleys of witty banter flowed between us, but never at the expense of the work or anyone’s feelings.  Angus nicked himself with his filleting knife, and Jenny sent him to my station for treatment, saying I was the team’s resident doctor.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at home.

Time passed quickly and before I knew it, it was dark outside.  The bulk of the work was done and the pace slackened, the pressure of the looming deadline relieved.  One by one we cleared our stations, meeting at the small seating area to share a well-earned drink.

Jenny sunk into the couch beside me and let out a loud sigh.

“Ouf, I canna believe we got it all done.  Claire, ye were a godsend.  Normally I do most o’ the prep work, but it leaves me no time tae arrange the dishes.”

I demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

“Nay, Arsonist, ye were amazing,” Jamie began to object, but he was interrupted by my phone buzzing.  Glancing down, I felt my face fall.   I’d completely forgotten about Frank.  Now he was texting, asking me where I was.  I quickly fired off a reply, then stuffed the phone into my pocket.

“Everything alright?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, yes.  It’s only my fiancé, asking when I might be home,” I answered, still distracted by my uncharacteristic lapse.  As I glanced up, I ran straight into Jamie’s iceberg gaze.

“I didna realize ye were engaged,” he looked pointedly at my bare ring finger.  “Congratulations.”  

He said the word as though every syllable pained him.  I quelled the urge to explain, to say it wasn’t a real engagement because I’d never agreed, that I’d only been looking for a sense of security, but somehow found myself in a cage.

Instead I hastily finished my drink, called myself an Uber and quietly wished everyone a good night, all while avoiding the many questions written across Jamie’s expressive face.

[jesswritesthat]

hey babe! i love your writing so much!!! so i recently watched kaguya-sama: love is war and i was wondering if you could do a headcanon of kuroo, bokuto and atsumu where their crush gets sick and they visit her and she drags them into her bed to sleep with them? you can decide how it ends. thank you so much in advance if you do end up writing this! i love you and take care of youself💞

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for this, I’ve never seen Kaguya-Sama but it sounds really cute. Also take care of yourself too and I hope these are okay! Much love 💕

Summary: Bokuto, Kuroo and Atsumu checking up on their sick crush headcanons

>>>>—————————>

Bokuto Kōtarō:

• Has felt like he's been missing something all day but couldn't quite decipher what it was until Akaashi mentions how you're off sick.

• Thats when your phone is bombarded with ‘urgent’ messages inquiring about your wellbeing to the dramatic extent of:

[ Kou: (N/N)! You haven't answered me yet, are yOu StiLl AliVe?! ]

[ (N/n): no ]

[ Kou: Aw, can I have your cool headphones then, since you won't be needing them anymore? 😁💕 ]

[ (N/n): Wow Kou, I'll haunt your dumbass at Volleyball games for that. ]

[ Kou: Even in death, your support means everything to me. ]

• Despite his nonsense he kept updated with you throughout the school day by sending memes in hopes of raising your spirits. The most peace you got was during Volleyball Club time - the Ace too invested to message you at that point.

• At the end though he calls his team for a serious discussion and they're all expecting major improvements on their gameplay ready for Nationals.

But no.

"What can I get (N/n) to make her feel better, this is crucial. I need only good ideas!"

• They all knew about his crush on you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it but you were none the wiser. Even so, Fukurōdani offered what advice they could to their friend because like him, they cared about you too.

• "Akaashi picked up your schoolwork." Bokuto says as he walks into your room, waving the papers and placing them on your side.

"And you didn't think to take notes for me?"

"Nah, I wanted to bring you good stuff."

"Fair point."

• Bokutos likely brought everything he could find once he went home and changed/showered - he's got flowers, your favourite snacks, drinks, medicine and some movies to cure your boredom. Like how much do I owe you???

He's says it's fine though, in return you have to be better by tomorrow.

That's not how it works Kou.

• You're both seated on your bed watching some shitty movie when you start getting a bit sleepy and you just want warmth.

"Can you give me a hug Kōtarō? I just need a hug, I know how weird that sounds..."

• Doesn't even think twice about it, he practically tackles you onto the covers which elicits lovely giggles from you - the potential of him getting sick too isn't even considered, he's just focused on being with you and making you feel better.

• His arms are so warm and they’re beautiful, you forgot how toned he is and you grow so comfortable in his embrace. He’s also really relaxed about it and is calm enough to ramble on normally - except when you nuzzle against him during a cold shiver. Bokuto full on freezes mid sentence, releasing a cautious breath prior to changing the subject.

• It’s obvious he’s content with you though, and surprisingly falls asleep first which makes you laugh. Kōtarō keeps a strong but delicate hold on your body and is subconsciously receptive enough to your every move. You adjusted yourself slightly which stirred him, his voice is much huskier than before due to sleep but remains concerned.

“Can’t you sleep (Y/n)? I can-“

“I’m fine, you’re keeping me warm.”

• With a nod of understanding he’s gone again and you follow shortly afterwards, the both of you unintentionally making the nap a sleepover. Which you only realise the next morning - still in his arms even if the position has changed. You take a few minutes to enjoy it.

• Miraculously doesn't get sick, his immune system must be immortal as he's brimming with energy once he gets up. His radiance is actually contagious as you feel much better in yourself too and his vibrant attitude really motivates you for the day despite being physically exhausted from beating the flu.

• "Your partner is going to be blessed if you bring them breakfast, I mean talk about amazing." You comment as he brings up a plate that he’d crafted in your kitchen, which is surprisingly decent. You suppose he must keep his body fit somehow.

"My crush will have to do for now."

"Wait I - ah, you have a crush on me?"

"Hah, didn't you know? I never tried to hide it or anything."

Kuroo Tetsurō:

• Notices your absence immediately, he's observant by nature but especially where his crush is concerned and he isn't afraid to contact you before class starts.

• "Hey (Y/n), it's Kuroo, are you running late today?"

"Hnn, I'm not gonna make it. I tried but I feel awful - Sickness: 1, (L/n): 0." Already by the grogginess in your voice he can tell you're under the weather and winces at the sound of you stifling a cough.

"Ah geez, go to bed would you? And drink plenty of water, I'll inform the teachers and everything."

"Thanks Tetsurō, I owe you one."

• Will message you at regular intervals throughout the day regarding your health with cute little reminders. You were on his mind frequently, he’s lowkey worried okay?

[ Tetsu: Drink water, and eat breakfast if you can. ]

[ (Y/n): Yeah yeah I have, go learn something. ]

[ Tetsu: Why are you replying? Shouldn't you be sleeping it off - I don't want your germs. ]

[ (Y/n): Sharing is caring. ]

[ Tetsu: Oya? It took a cold for you finally admit you care, so is it gonna take a pandemic to say you love me? 😏 ]

[ (Y/n): 🖕🏻]

• Is actually considerate enough to tell you he'll swing by after practice, and asks if you want anything from the shop so you give basics like water and tablets. Comes equipped with the extra notes he's taken from all of your shared classes and requested papers from teachers in those you don't, so you're not falling behind.

• Aside from the bare minimum you requested, he chucks your favourite snacks on your desk stating that it’s important to keep morale high too. Liar. He just wanted to do something nice for you.

• Checks your temperature despite your protests of not being a child, he only does this because it vexes you and Kuroo finds that cute. As a silent apology for teasing the Hell out of you, he’ll make you some tea and you both get lost in conversation.

• Notices you’re starting to doze off, rest you should’ve had instead of texting everyone - but ensuring everything is fine, he’s about to stealthily exit until your fingers grasp his wrist and tug him back slightly.

"Stay Tetsurō..."

"You'll likely regret that request once you wake up."

"S'ok, it's you."

• The strength you have when tugging him into bed with you catches him completely off guard and he’s actually blushing - doesn’t know what to say but knows he has to at least maintain some composure.

“So uh, never knew you wanted me this badly.”

“Ugh shut up dumbass, I can feel your rapid heartbeat from here.”

“Right...”

• Kuroo goes all shy, you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and are comfortably leaning against his side and he absentmindedly runs his fingers soothingly up and down your arm to settle his own nerves.

• It’s peacefully silent, simply enjoying one another’s company before he hears your muffled sniffles indicating you’ve fallen asleep and a soft smile graces his lips. If you were his, then he’d definitely kiss your forehead, and lips to be honest, but the fact you aren’t leaves him with a disappointed sigh.

• You both end up taking a nap, waking up wrapped in each other’s arms and noses practically touching which startled the Captain - Kuroo literally falling off of your bed with a yelp much to your amusement. Afterwards, he departs suggesting you get more rest, get better soon and he’ll see you at school next week.

• At least that was the plan, which altered with the text exchange the following morning.

[ Kuroo: Sharing is not caring, I wanted your snacks not your sickness! ]

[ (Y/n): RIP us. 💀 ]

[ Tetsu: You owe me one remember? I've got the house to myself this weekend so would you like to suffer together? I have blankets, entertainment and food. ]

[ (Y/n): Beats sniffling alone, I'll bring the tissues and drugs. ]

• So, you went over with a trail of sneezing in your wake and ended up snuggled with Kuroo under a blanket with a variety of games gracing the TV as you skilfully passed around the tissues. Aside from being ill, spending time like this with him was perfect.

• "Sickness: 2, (L/n) and Kuroo: 0..."

"No, Kuroo: 1.”

"How so? You K.O. a sneeze or something?"

"I got to spend the day with you didn't I? That counts as a win in my book."

"Tch careful, anyone would think the Scheming Captain cares~"

"I do smartass, I care about you a lot (Y/n)..."

Miya Atsumu:

• Atsumu wasn't one to act needy in any way, the only excuse for him to contact you in regards to your absence was to do it with a remark and hope you'd elaborate.

[ Atsumu: Yo, are ya ditching me to survive English on my own? That's cold (Y/n) 😭 ]

[ (Y/n): Sorry 'Tsumu, I'm too busy dying to care rn. Have a fun missing me loser. ]

[ Atsumu: Hah you wish, you alright tho? ]

• You're good friends but he's never really expressed genuine concern about you before, not verbally anyway. You thought the final "K" after you'd told him you were gonna rest would be the end of it.

So you were beyond surprised when he rocked up to your house later that evening.

• It took everything you had not to mock him for his embarrassed stature, solely flustered by the fact you'd seen him so considerate. Admittedly you were also exhausted and probably couldn't think of a snarky reply anyway.

• "What's up? Was there homework or - ugh, or something?"

"Huh? Oh I dunno. But uh, I got 'Samu to make you some Okayu, and a Umeboshi Tea since it's good for colds and stuff."

• Totally pestered Osamu all day to help him make you something and had to do stupid favours in return but Atsumu will deny it if you ever ask.

• “I love how you don’t care what you look like when you have guests over.”

“Take your stupid backhanded compliments and shove them up your pretty litt-“ You bite back, flipping him off in the process while Atsumu remains proudly victorious.

“Nah ah, is that any way to speak to the man who brought you dinner?”

“It’s the way to speak to the man whose currently annoying me.”

“You’re welcome, this is revenge for ditching me in class gorgeous~”

• Despite how irritating he could be, Atsumu stuck around for a bit to make sure you ate everything he’d brought and taken the appropriate medication.

• “Oh yeah, I brought that movie you were talking about the other day. Figured it might pass the time a bit.”

“Thank you! I’ll give it back once I’m better - thank you so much ‘Tsumu.”

Your excitement was endearing, and he had to collect himself a bit since admiring such little quirks was out of the question - his crush was bad enough as it is.

“Wanna watch it now? I haven’t got anything to do so I can give you spoilers.”

“Sounds good - and not a word!”

• You spent the afternoon watching the film and playfully wrestling the blonde in order to shut him up whenever he made an attempt to spoil it - he would never, but provoking you was too funny.

• You settle down later on, putting on a mindless tv show for background noise before collapsing onto your bed with groan. Atsumu raising a smug brow at your exhausted state as he threw his jacket on.

• "Wanna sleep with me?" It was innocent, at least you didn’t think much of it then.

"Do I what now?" He was smirking, thankful that your panic left you oblivious to the blush crawling up his neck at the mere insinuation alone.

"Sleep wit- ohh I did not think that through! I meant sleep in my bed, next to me, to help me drift off. Maybe it's the sleepiness or medicine but I really want you Atsumu..."

"Not helping your case at all." Again he smugly responded, dropping his jacket to the floor with a sly smile.

"Stop smirking and just hug me okay? Then you can leave and tease me about this later."

• Atsumu isn't awkward about it, subduing his nerves enough to pull you into his arms as he sits up - dutifully ignoring the butterflies in his stomach due to your close proximity and the intoxicating smell of your hair.

• Atsumu becomes unintentionally soft, his fingers slowly begin to glide through your hair and he hesitates when he feels the hum of contentment you release before continuing. Your whole body just relaxes against his and he subconsciously does the same, not even realising he was this tense around you - was his body always like that in your general presence?

• As you start quietly talking about nothing and everything, he notices a weakness - you’re a lot more open when drowsy and god he wants to take advantage but knows you’ll remember the questions he asked and murder him for it when you’re able.

• Intead he attempts to protect any dignity he thinks he has left with you - jokes on him, it’s absolutely none. You guys are way past that level and he knows it.

“You better get healthy quick, not that I care but English is really borin’ on my own ya know?”

"The people you truly care about must be really lucky to have you 'Tsumu..." The mumble is enough to make him roll his eyes, but he waits until you’re asleep to reply.

"Yeah... you are..."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[issaxcharlie]

You are the music in me

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Julie Molina

Request: SICK FIC JUKE: “Juke live together (but not dating yet) with Alex and Reggie all in apartment, both Julie and Luke wake up sick as dogs (flu/strep up to you) and force stay home from classes,sick by Alex. While being alone basically all day they finally admitted they like each other more than friends and get together when they start feeling better few days later.”

THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST ANON🤍

This is not how Julie and Luke saw each other spending the weekend. They took care of Alex for a whole week together and just when the drummer began to feel better, his friends fell to the flu. To stop the chain of illness, Julie decided that it was best for Reggie and Alex to stay in Willie's instead of the apartment the four friends share until she and Luke recovered, but two stubborn patients taking care of each other is a somewhat chaotic combination.

"I can't take those pills, they are huge!" The guitarist has his arms crossed, his lips completely closed in a grimace almost impossible to undo.

"Luke, I've seen you eat two meatball sandwiches at the same time, I’m pretty sure one pill is not going to kill you."

He was about to continue fighting when Julie turns to cough. Every minute that passes she looks weaker and probably what she needs the least is to be carrying with his tantrums. So he takes the pills from her and passes them after maybe 15 tries and 3 possible chokes. Julie laughs slightly with each attempt, satisfied that at least he is trying for her.

Once they both finally finish taking all of their meds, Luke uses what little strength he has left to carry her in bridal style to her room. Julie tries to resist but her lack of strenght is way too much.

"Let yourself be taken care of, Molina." He whispers in her ear as he draws her closer to him. When they finally get to the room Luke gently lays her down on the bed and covers her in blankets to the best of his ability.

He feels bad for her. Because yes, he was there during Alex's illness, but the truth is that he didn't do much. The only reason he got sick is because he shares a room with him. On the other hand, Julie was faithfully taking care of her friend, taking his temperature, reminding him at the correct time about his medicines to the point of setting alarms at 4 in the morning just to make sure he got up to take them, made him hot meals and tea, she was the perfect nurse.

And what does she have instead? Him. The one who hates taking pills, doesn’t know how to take the temperature, much less what time the medicines are due, and he definitely doesn't know how to cook much more than a sandwich.

But something the aspiring musician does know how to do and sure as hell will do for her is giving her all the cuddles she might need (and probably want).

Luke walks to the other side of the bed and sits on the empty side, bringing burrito Julie into his arms, her resting her head on his chest.

He takes a few seconds to enjoy the situation. Yes, it is not at all what they expected to do today, on Saturdays they usually write all morning and rehearse all afternoon to go to some small club to play at night. The band was completely their priority on weekends as they had to study and work to support themselves, so the guitarist couldn't remember a Saturday where they stayed like this, doing nothing but enjoying each other.

Luke had become so immersed in that routine that he had simply sunk to the bottom those feelings that usually shine bright as the sun when they write or sing together or in rare moments like this one when he has her all for him, their hearts beating as one.

Realizing that he liked Julie was as easy as discovering his passion for music. When is her, everyday situations like hearing her rave happily about something that happened during the day feels like listening to his favorite song at full volume. And there’s the other side of it, those special moments like performing on a stage together. The sensations he gets are on a league of their own, their chemistry growing and enveloping in this mesmerizing explosion of energy. She’s this beautiful bright star that for some strange miracle, he is blessed to admire closely without burning.

The love and admiration he feels for her is so big that it terrifies him. In his experience, these types of sensations are not free. His passion for music completely cost him the relationship with his parents, not even the effort of continuing in school has made them give his dream of being a musician a chance.

What will it cost him to chase Julie in a romantic way? Their friendship? The band? What if things don't turn out as he would like and they end up fighting and separating the one thing that has cost them so much to build? Sleepless nights, hunger, blood, sweat, raising this dream has not been easy, could he really dare to risk it in this way? Could he be so selfish?

He often forces himself to think he couldn’t, but at that moment, Julie Molina swings her body to the side so she can look at him head on. Her big, beautiful dark eyes fixed on his.

“You aren’t usually quiet for more than 5 minutes, are you alright? Does something hurt? Do you want me to check your temperature?" With some effort, she manages to free the arm that is not resting on the bed and gently touches Luke's forehead, making sure he is okay.

He can't help but grin in response. She’s just so perfect. She shares the same passion as him, she fully understands the magical feeling of being on stage and it provokes on her the same excitement and adrenaline. She is sweet and cares about everyone, even loves his friends as much as he does. She is determined, smart, funny, beautiful. A lot of times he can't even understand how someone so perfect exists. And she not only exists, but is there next to him, wrapped in his arms.

“I- I’m fine, everything is fine, I promise. Focus on resting that angelic voice of yours.” She blushes as if that is not an already well established fact. He can’t help but look adoringly in response. He just loves to make her blush, being able to cause those reactions in her so easily.

You're right, I can't risk being replaced by one of the many groupies that have been after you lately." He can’t help a cocky grin, she blushes even more and decides to sink her head into his chest.

He takes advantage and hugs her even closer to him, bringing his head closer to her face to whisper in her ear.

"I could never replace you." He feels her expression changing in his chest, probably a smile. Her small hand squeezing his back in response.

“Liar.”

“Are you jealous, Molina? Because that’s hot.” She lets out a nervous laugh and Luke pulls her away just enough to be face to face.

“I’m not jealous.” She murmurs trying to sound sure, the image of those girls way too close to Luke at last weekend’s gig clouding her vision.

“Good, because you don’t have a reason to be.”

The singer looks down, she understood the opposite of what the guitarist was trying to say.

“H- Hey, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” With one of his fingers he carefully lifts her chin so he can see her eyes again.

There's a part of Luke that tells him to take a moment to think about what to say. The logical and sinic part. The one who knows that what he is going to do is going to cost him.

But the other party, the one who has been in love with Julie Molina for 2 years, is already tired of waiting and ready to take a leap of faith. And today that his mind is tired and weak, heart conquers logic.

Neither has spoken aloud about their special relationship, but they know something is there. It is a wordless fact between the two. And maybe it's time to add words to the melody.

“I meant you really don’t have to because all I hear, is you. I have tried to find peace in my soul with hundreds and hundreds of melodies, Julie. And it wasn't until I heard your voice that I found the right one.

Why would I even want to think of anyone else when I have so much more than I could have imagined across the hall every day? It’s always you. You, making sure I eat when I’m in my obsessive writer mode. You, stroking my hair when you think I fell asleep. You, spying me with your beautiful eyes between classes to make sure I’m actually on school. You, watching musicals with me till 5 am on Saturdays even thought we had one hell of a difficult day and a tired night just because you love to see my reactions. You, worried about me feeling bad when you are clearly sicker. It’s always you, Julie.”

In a moment of bravery, Julie brushes her lips against Luke's, waiting for him to make the final decision, which he doesn't take two seconds to make by capturing her lips on his, savoring finally being able to know what it feels like to kiss Julie Molina.

That it tasted like honey was not something that surprised him after seeing her eat several tablespoons of honey with lemon before bringing her to rest.

“Luke, remember when we watched High School Musical 2?” She grins, clearly happy with what just happened.

“Yeah, like a month ago.” he seems surprised with the random question but smiles to encourage her.

“Well, I mentally dedicated you ‘you are the music in me.’ Huh, It feels good to get it off my chest.”

He laughs. Anyone else would be offended or at least scared that the other person won't talk about what just happened, but they have a different connection. Music is the one who unites their souls and for she to tell him something as powerful as ‘you are the music in me’ is almost as strong as an I love you, maybe even stronger. Practically her subtle, awkward and wholesome way of saying he’s her person too.

And that’s more than perfect for him. She doesn’t need to say a speech, much less now that she is not feeling well. The love she shows him in a thousand ways every day is more than enough.

He knows that when they both improve and logic regains territory they will have a lot to discuss about their new relationship, but the most important step has already been taken. For now, all he has to worry about is that the tea turns out drinkable enough and keeping her warm enough with cuddles and kisses on the forehead... maybe some more on the lips too.

THANK YOU FOR READING✨✨

[gingeralepdf]

A Little Love

A/N: here she isss!!! this is the piece that i wrote for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that was set up by the amazing @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles (thank you for organizing all of this!! you’re all legends!!)

extra big thank you to lydia @youresogolden-h and brailey @daydreamsofh for being such sweet beta readers <3

this is my first ever attempt at writing fic, so i hope you enjoy it!

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption

Harry is your best friend and your coworker, but you see him as more. Maybe you both just want a little love.

word count: ~8K

**April 25, 2020, 11:15am**

It’s a comfortable spring day in San Francisco. The windows are cracked, letting in sweet smelling fresh air and the moderate bustle of people out and about. Despite the perfect weather to be out at the market or taking a walk in the park, you’re currently at your neighbor’s apartment, slouched on the couch in the living room and in the midst of a New Girl marathon. Or rather, you are in the midst of a New Girl marathon, but your friend has not looked up from the guitar he is restringing for the past fifteen minutes.

You’ve been stealing glances at Harry from the other end of the couch. He has the guitar laying across his lap. He’s able to take all of the strings off and put three new ones on without a problem, but something about the fourth string seems to be giving him a lot of trouble. Every time he gets the string wound up on the tuning key, it snaps loose, like it can’t hold the tension. After several attempts with the same result, Harry sets his string winder on the coffee table and lets out a frustrated huff while scratching his forehead.

Although you know it’s probably best to not make a comment while he’s annoyed, you decide to make one anyway.

Just as he grabs the winder from the coffee table and goes in for another attempt at the string, you blurt out, “I thought the whole point of watching Netflix at your house instead of mine was so you could work and watch at the same time.”

Harry rolls his eyes and slowly cranes his head to look in your direction, “I am watching.”

“Right, so tell me what Miranda has been up to,” you challenge.

Harry lowers his head in concentration, making another attempt at winding up the string on the tuning key, “She’s like… going on a date or something.”

“Miranda isn’t even a character in the show!”

The tuning key once again snaps loose. Harry’s nostrils flare and he mutters a quick “Fucks sake.”

A moment passes where the only sound in the room is the TV. You’re trying to gauge whether or not you’ve actually pissed him off a bit. You decide to bite your tongue and see what he is going to say next.

Harry finally shifts his eyes from the guitar to you, “Obviously I can’t work and watch at the same time.”

You give him a pointed look, “You think?”

“I promise I can finish this project pretty quick, and then I’ll watch, like, four episodes, uninterrupted. I just need to go get some parts so… would you mind pausing it?”

Once the show is paused, Harry gets up from his spot on the couch, gently sets the guitar on the floor, and turns to exit the living room. However, he is stopped short since your legs are making a barricade between the couch and the coffee table. With a mischievous grin on his face, he uses his shin to slowly push your legs away from him so that your feet slide off the end of the table and onto the floor. Your jaw drops in exaggerated offense. Giggles erupt from both of you as he narrowly avoids your attempts to trip him while he steps over your legs and then jogs across the room to his workspace.

A huge benefit of living a couple of buildings away from your best friend is that any given day of the week can be spent like this. The both of you can always be found at either one of your apartments watching hours of Netflix, working on projects, or sharing meals.

Just as you were enjoying the moment of silence that fell onto the room, your phone and Harry’s phone buzz on the coffee table. With a quiet groan, you slowly sit up from the couch to see a text from your boss, sent in a group chat with yourself and Harry.

Would either of you be able to work the closing shift tonight? Sarah called in sick and the rest of the shift leads can’t work today.

Although you and Harry were both looking forward to having a Saturday off, you knew the bar was a little short-staffed this weekend, so you both kind of saw this coming.

“Is that who I think it is?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, Adam’s asking one of us to work the closing shift tonight. Sarah called in sick and I guess Charlotte can’t work today.”

Harry groans as he makes his way back to his previous spot on the couch and plops down with a screwdriver and a plastic bag containing what looks to be a new set of tuning keys in hand.

Harry takes a moment to look around his living room, taking in all of the instrument cases stacked around the small apartment, scratching his jaw in thought. “I mean, I would take it, but I’ve got a lot of projects that have to get done this weekend.”

“I guess that just leaves me then,” you say flatly, sinking further into the couch and staring straight ahead out of the window across the room.

“‘M’ sorry,” Harry says with a light chuckle at your dramatics, “I’ll owe you one.” His offer comes out more like a question.

You look back in his direction to see him with a wide, dimpled grin staring back at you. You know he’s just trying to make you feel better, and it works.

After sending a quick text to your boss letting him know you would be there tonight, you sit up straight and grab the remote from the coffee table. “That’s a really tempting offer. I’ve got a lot of sick days saved up, you know?”

“Heyyyy,” Harry draws out in a playfully offended tone.

You chuckle before asking, “Can we just finish this episode so I can go home and get some rest before work?”

“Yeah I think we can do that.” He sets the screwdriver and plastic bag on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, folding his hands together to rest on his stomach.

You press play on the remote and settle into another day with your best friend.

**April 26, 2020. 1:47am**

About ten minutes until the bar closes, and there are still three large, lively groups hanging around. You and your coworkers have done as many pre-closing tasks as you possibly could, aside from taking the drink glasses straight out of the customers’ hands. Now it just seems to be the longest waiting game ever until you’re officially allowed to kick everyone out.

While you’re all busying yourselves with wiping down counters and straightening chairs, the front door swings open.

Just as you’re about to put on your best customer service face that you can muster, you see a familiar blue and white plaid jacket and fluffy brown curls. Harry is strolling in, surveying the crowd of customers as he’s making his way to where you’re standing at the bar. You see that he is donning a form-fitting grey t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on it, light brown high-waisted pants, and a delicate looking pearl necklace. He always seems to be able to effortlessly look put together, even when he is making bold choices.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and ask with exaggerated charm, “Come here often?”

“Oh god.” He laughs at your ill attempt at comedy through a pained expression.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Same as always.”

Harry has made it a routine to walk home with you when you’re working the closing shift. Even when you insist that there’s no need for him to stay up so late when he’s not working.

He glances around before looking back at you, “Is there anything I can help with right now?”

You shake your head. “Just waiting for them to leave so we can clean everything.”

“Bollocks,” he mutters before puckering his lips.

You decide to go around the corner of the bar to the prep area where the music controls are. Hopefully the customers will take the hint that it’s time to leave once you lower the volume.

After a few minutes, all of the staff are breathing a collective sigh of relief when one group makes their way to the door and the other two groups shortly follow suit.

By the time you follow the crowd out and you lock the door, it’s 2:05 a.m. Considering how busy it was tonight, you’re counting this as a small victory.

Harry and your other coworkers are going around cleaning up glasses and bottles and taking them back to the sink while you make your way to the register to start your shift lead duties.

Once the tips are divided, you take a look around and see that your coworkers are steadily making their way through the cleaning checklist. With Harry’s help, things are moving along pretty quickly. You pull the first bundle of cash out of the drawer and start counting.

After getting the cash drawer sorted out, and counting out a new one for Monday, you hear your coworker saying your name. “I think we’ve done everything on the cleaning checklist. Is there anything else you need help with?”

“Actually, all I have left to do is inventory. I’m not gonna hold you hostage for that, so you guys are free to head out if you want to.”

Your coworkers are saying goodnight and clocking out shortly after. Once they're gone, you’re left with the faint buzzing of the refrigerators and the light music over the speakers. You turn around to face the shelves of bottles and notice a few that are running low and need replacing. You go down the ‘employees only’ hallway to the back stockroom and grab all the bottles you need. Hugging them to your chest, you make your way back down the hallway. You walk about halfway when a figure jumps out of the supply closet to your right, causing you to jump backwards and let out a scream.

Harry’s howling laughter echoes through the hallway as you try to catch your breath and will your heart to stop racing.

You finally regain some composure and turn to fully face Harry. His laughter has reduced to occasional soft chuckles falling past his pursed lips. If your arms weren’t full, you would most likely be smacking him for scaring the shit out of you.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You do your best to give him death glare, but your voice is now shaking with laughter as well. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop any of this stuff, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. Holy shit.” He opens his arms and slowly steps toward you to bring you in for a hug.

“Well if you’re so sorry, put these on the shelf for me.” You say as you thrust the bottles into his chest, making him grunt out a laugh.

You walk to the front with Harry trailing behind you. All you have left to do is make a few notes for Adam before finally clocking out. You’ve never been more excited for your head to hit the pillow when you get home.

As you’re making your notes, Harry is pacing about behind you, straightening out all of the bottles on the shelves. He lets out a long observant hum.

“What?”

“Just noticed this guy’s almost empty,” he holds up a bottle of tequila and swirls around what little liquor is left in it. One corner of his mouth turns up before he looks at you, “Enough left for two more shots, probably.”

“Is that so?”

“Y’ wanna find out?”

“I don’t know,” you say as you tilt your head up and tap your chin in thought “I don’t know how I feel about taking shots with people who jump out of supply closets to scare me.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that.” He’s exaggerating and drawing all of his words out as he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you so that his hands are resting on your left shoulder and he rests the side of his head on the back of yours. “I’m sorry. Please take a shot with me.”

Although it's pointless since he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes in response, “Fine. Pour me one.”

His hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze before he moves away and reaches under the counter then puts two shot glasses onto the bar. He reaches behind him for the nearly empty bottle and pours the perfect amount into each glass. Taking them both in his hands, he extends one to you.

You don’t miss the chuckle that he lets out as you take the glass from him. After giving him a questioning look, you notice a slight blush on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Was just thinking. This,” he gestures to the two of you and the glasses you’re both holding “reminds me of the day you got into the art institute.”

Around this time a year ago, you had spent weeks pouring over your application for the San Francisco Art Institute and months after that waiting to hear anything back. When you got the acceptance email toward the end of your shift at work, Harry was the first person that you told. Just over a year ago, you were standing with Harry behind this same bar when you told him the good news. Your chest filled with warmth at his reaction. He wrapped you in a nearly suffocating hug as he loudly declared, “I told you you had a kick ass portfolio! So fuckin proud of you.”

Right after he released you from the hug, he poured each of you a shot. Harry then made the impromptu decision of doing a bar crawl after you both got off, deeming the two shots “not enough celebration”.

After a night full of slightly over the top celebrating, you were practically dragging Harry home. It wasn’t until you got to his apartment building that he realized he had left his keys and wallet at one of the bars. Not wanting to drag him back across town, you ended up bringing him back to your apartment just around the corner.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you were able to get him to drink a big glass of water before helping him brush his teeth with your spare toothbrush.

You have a lot of vague and fuzzy memories from that night, but there are two that remain crystal clear. One is the moment when you were clumsily leading him to your couch and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Wish I could kiss you.” And the other is the way your stomach dropped and your heart nearly fluttered out of control at his drunken confession.

The conversations about that night always turned into jokes about you being able to handle your liquor better than he could. His comment was never brought up by either of you. You weren’t sure if he would even remember it, or if either of you really wanted to.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “we should never be allowed to celebrate anything after that. We were miserable the next day.”

You lock eyes with him and for a split second there’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Like a different kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before this moment.

It’s fleeting, however, because he glances down at your hands and clinks your glasses together. You tilt your heads back at the same time, feeling the burn in your throats and letting out sharp exhales once it’s passed.

Harry takes your glass from your hand and silently goes to the prep area. You hear the sink running as you finish up your notes to your boss and you clock out.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I just need to get my-” you stop mid-sentence when you turn around to see Harry already holding out your bag that had been hanging up in the prep area. You mutter a ‘never mind’ as you take it from him.

Harry grabs his jacket from the pool table and you stroll to the front door together, turning off lights as you go.

You finally step out into the chilly nighttime air. The only noises are coming from the small scattered groups of people gathering in front of the bars on the block that are just closing.

After locking the doors, you and Harry start trudging along the sidewalk up the steep hill. If you had known that it was going to get so much colder and windier during the night, you would have brought a jacket with you. You fold your arms and grit your teeth as another cold breeze hits you from the front.

You don’t even notice Harry taking off his jacket until he’s holding it in front of your face. You pause your walking for a moment to gently take it from his hand.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

“Well I’m not gonna watch you shiver all the way home.”

You frown a bit as you look at the jacket in your hands. You can still feel the warmth from Harry’s body heat on the hand that’s grasping the inside of it. Having that little bit of warmth already makes you feel better, but you hate to think that he’s going to be the one gritting his teeth against the cold.

He says your name through a chuckle and you look up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just put the jacket on and let’s get you home, yeah?”

**April 26th, 2020. 5:30am**

It should be considered a crime to be wide awake at this hour, considering the small amount of sleep you’ve gotten. The only thing you had the energy to do when you got home last night was change out of your work clothes and fall into bed. You remember glancing at your clock and reading 3:15 a.m. before your eyelids grew heavy and closed.

The reminder of Harry’s drunk confession that you thought was water under the bridge is now flooding your mind as you desperately try to fall back to sleep. You try to push down the memory of his giggles as you made the strenuous effort of finding the switch on your living room lamp while having nearly all of his body weight leaned against you for support. You try to push down the memory of his flushed cheeks in the glowing yellow light when you finally got him settled on your couch. You try to push down the memory of running your fingers through his soft curls and giving his hairline a soft kiss before going to bed. You try to think of literally anything else.

It isn’t until the very first hints of daylight enter your room that you decide to give up.

The floor is cold on your feet as you walk to your bathroom, rubbing your tired eyes.

After a quick shower and putting on your favorite t-shirt and jeans, you feel less sluggish. You focus on going through your kitchen pantry to find something for your growling stomach.

Although you wish that you were still sleeping soundly in your bed, you think of how rare it is to get to see this city both at the dead of night and when it’s slowly starting to wake up. To be able to greet the light in your living room as it dances across the pictures on your walls and you mill about with your bowl of cereal.

The pictures lined up on your walls remind you of the project that you started last week that you need new photos for. You go to your closet and get the bag that holds your digital camera. Your mind is buzzing at the thought of taking it to the park before it gets too crowded.

You put on a jacket and shoes, pull your camera bag over your shoulder, and head out into the chilly Sunday morning.

********************

You round the corner of your block and start making your way down the steep hill, admiring the multicolored houses across the street that are glowing softly in the morning light. A smile spreads across your face as you reach into your bag for your camera and your fisheye lens. Once you’ve captured a few shots that you’re happy with, you move on toward the park.

You’re coming up on Harry’s building, and you instinctively glance up at the second story bay window that you know belongs to his apartment. Because this side of his building is still in the shade at this point in the day, you can see that his light is on.

“What’s he doing up?” you think to yourself. He’s always been an early riser, but considering how late you both stayed up, you would hope that he had been able to get some extra sleep.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, Harry appears in the window. His blinds are wide open, so you can clearly see him stepping up to his record player and delicately placing the needle on the vinyl. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth.

What your eyes are more drawn to, however, is his choice of clothing, or lack thereof. He’s standing in front of his window in nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You knew the t-shirt too well as the one he found at a thrift store years ago and became obsessed with after reading the ‘Treat People With Kindness’ logo on the front. He steps back from the record player and tilts his head back to brush his teeth. You watch as his jaw flexes and is accentuated by the light scruff of facial hair along it.

It’s becoming alarmingly clear to you that you are alone in the middle of the sidewalk, about thirty feet away from your best friend’s window, ogling him as he’s minding his own business. As much as your palms are sweating and your stomach is doing somersaults at the prospect of being spotted, you cannot bring yourself to continue walking. You wouldn’t mind becoming a permanent part of the sidewalk if it meant having this kind of view.

Harry turns and walks away from the window. You finally snap out of your daze and hurry past his window, thankful for the help of the downhill slope to move you along. Once you get to the corner of the block, you stop and lean your back against the building. Lightly smacking your forehead, you mutter out loud to yourself, “What the hell was that?”

********************

The trip to the park turned out to be a perfect way to spend the morning. You ended up taking a lot of pictures of murals and flowers before the park started to get too busy.

With your favorite album playing through your headphones, your mind is now buzzing with the excitement of having new photos to edit.

Once you cross the street, you’re now standing on the corner of your block. One way would lead you once again past the window to Harry’s apartment. The other way would help you avoid another potentially awkward sighting, but was much longer and usually includes lines for overcrowded restaurants.

Keeping your head down, you continue walking straight ahead in the same direction that you came from.

As you’re hiking up the hill, you suddenly hear a voice that you know is not coming through your headphones. You turn your volume down and listen to your surroundings. Plain as day, someone behind you shouts your name. You rip your headphones out and whip around to see Harry waving at you from his window.

“Hey! You wanna come up for breakfast?”

Your feet are firmly planted to the sidewalk, much like they were about an hour ago when you stood in the same spot and ogled this man.

You opened your mouth, not knowing what to say, and pathetically jabbed your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “Actually I… I-I was gonna-”

“I’ve got coffee from Trieste,” he says in a sing-song tone.

You internally roll your eyes and curse him for knowing that you can never deny coffee from your favorite place in town. Plus, wracking your brain for a good excuse to be on your way is becoming difficult due to the hunger pains starting up in your stomach. That bowl of cereal is only holding you over for so long.

You look up at his dimpled face and relax your shoulders, “Okay, yeah. Yeah I’ll come up.”

“I’ll unlock the door for you!” is the last thing you hear before he shuts his window and you make your way to the stairs.

You climb up to the second story and turn down his hallway. When you’re standing in front of his door, you can hear music playing.

You open the door and you’re met with the sounds of trumpets. Harry has Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” playing on his record player. He has it just loud enough to where it won’t annoy any of his neighbors, but it still fills every corner of the living room. It’s not the first time you’ve walked into a similar scene here. You know this to be one of his favorite songs to play in the morning.

You close the door behind you and take in the state of the room as you walk through. The instrument cases are a little more organized than they had been yesterday. Smaller ones are stacked up next to his workstation and the larger ones are stacked up in the corner next to his couch. His laptop sits open on the coffee table and a haphazard stack of blank paper repair tags sat next to it.

The camera bag on your shoulder is now starting to feel heavy, so you plop down on the couch. Your ears perk up at the sound of Harry singing along with the record from the kitchen.

“You can have an aeroplane flyin’. If you bring your blue sky back.”

Following the smell of coffee, you walk over to the doorway of the small kitchen. Harry is  standing at the counter. Thankfully he is not wearing the outfit that you saw him in earlier. He’s wearing brown trousers and a cream colored flannel with black and green stripes. He also has on his signature pair of scuffed up black vans.

There is a small table and two chairs in the corner of the kitchen next to the window with a vase of sunflowers and a couple of books sitting on it. You walk over to the table to inspect the books more closely. Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton & John Armstrong and The Course of Love, also by Alain de Botton. Before you get the chance to flip them over and read the descriptions, Harry clears his throat.

“Coffee’s ready.” He sets the kettle down on the counter and dances his way over to the cupboard where he keeps his mugs.

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, admiring his ability to always be so energetic in the mornings.

He takes the filter out of the chemex and chunks it in the trash before pouring the coffee into two mugs. The way he turns with a mug in each hand, extending one to you, is extremely reminiscent of last night. After you take the mug from his hands, he scoots past you into the living room. The volume of the music lowers to a faint background noise before he appears again in the kitchen.

“So,” he pauses to reach into the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it on the counter, “what are you doing up so early? Figured you’d be in bed till noon. Seemed pretty exhausted last night.” He takes a long sip of coffee, waiting for your response.

Suddenly you’re doing everything to not look in his direction. Your eyes are shifting from the table to the flowers to the mug in your hands.

“Um… yeah I woke up at like 5:30 for some reason and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just decided to take a walk with my camera.” Your last few words echo from your mug before you take a big sip.

Harry clicks his tongue. “M’ sorry, that sucks. Did you at least see anything interesting?”

You involuntarily gasp at his question, causing the coffee to go directly down the wrong pipe. Several harsh coughs erupt from your chest.

Harry acts quickly, muttering a quick “shit” before taking the cup from your hand and setting it on the table along with his. He steps behind you and you hear a chair scoot out from the table. His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, prompting you to have a seat. You fold over in the chair, gripping the edge of the table for stability. After a few more strong coughs, you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Harry’s fingertips rubbing soothing circles on your back sends electricity up and down your spine.

His hand slides off of your back as he steps away from you, “Alright? Want some water?” He’s already walking over to his cabinet and pulling out a glass before you respond.

Once you clear your throat, you croak out, “Yeah I’m fine, that’s fine.”

He sets the glass on the table in front of you, turns back to the carton of eggs on the counter and starts cracking some into a pan.

After taking some sips of your water, you say, “So I was going to ask you the same question. What are you doing up so early?”

“Well, funny enough, I also had to wake up around 5:30. I’ve got a client coming to pick up her trumpet this morning and I had to get everything sorted and clean up a bit before she got here.”

Nodding your head, you tease, “Oh yeah, it looks really good in there. Was starting to forget what your floor looked like.”

Your heart leaps at the sound of Harry’s belly laugh. “Wow. Wowwwwww. Already giving me a hard time. At this hour. Jesus.”

You laugh at his exaggerated reaction while he simply shakes his head.

There’s a knock at the front door. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Must be her, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to do those?” You stand up from your spot at the table and gesture to the pan.

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” he says over his shoulder when he exits the kitchen.

A moment later, you hear the sound of a woman’s voice greeting Harry. It sounds like they’re just standing in his entryway because you can’t really make out what either of them are saying.

Meanwhile, you go about scrambling eggs, making toast, and getting out plates and silverware. By the time Harry is back in the kitchen, you’re already starting to put everything on the table.

You pick up the books from the table and hold them up to Harry, “Where do you want these?”

“Oh uh, I’ll just put those on the coffee table.” When you hand them off to him, he holds up the copy of Art as Therapy. “This one’s for you though, make sure you take it with you today.”

You tilt your head in question.

“Just thought it looked like something you would enjoy. Saw it when I was looking for this other one.” He holds up The Course of Love.

Before you could say anything, he’s disappeared again into the living room.

Once you’re both sitting at the table and digging into your breakfast, Harry asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

You squint your eyes at him. “I mean, I don’t really have anything planned. Why do you ask?”

“Well that client that was just here offered me two free tickets to her jazz band’s show tonight as, like, an extra ‘thank you’.” He shrugs, “Might be fun to go to.”

With a straight face, you reply, “I can’t, I’m booked tonight.”

You stare at each other for a minute in silence trying not to crack a smile, until you both start snorting.

“I know you’re free because the bar is closed and Sarah is still sick.” Harry tosses his fork on his plate and leans back in his chair like he’s just won an argument.

You mirror him by crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “What if I have plans with Mitch? Sarah’s boyfriend?”

Harry furrows his brows and looks at you, baffled, “I know who Mitch is, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Because I knew it would throw you off.”

“Alright, I’ll just take Mitch to the concert then.”

You drop your jaw and lightly kick his leg under the table. “What time is this concert?” You ask, slipping out of your teasing tone.

“It’s at seven.” Harry leans forward and lifts his coffee from the table, holding it up to you.

You grab yours from the table and clink it with his before finishing off the remainder of your coffee.

***********************

Back at your apartment, you’re leaning back in your chair at the desk in your living room, waiting for your pictures from today to upload on your computer. Your hands run over the smooth blue and green cover of Art as Therapy. In the few years that you have known Harry, you’ve swapped countless book recommendations back and forth, and the bookshelves in your apartments are constantly changing due to all of the borrowing you both do. You’ve even gotten each other books for birthdays and other holidays. This is the first book that he has bought for you completely unprompted. You hadn’t even heard of the author until today, so it’s not like he heard you mention in passing wanting to read his books.

You flip the book over and read the description, then flip to the first few pages to see a statement about the authors. “Their proposal is that certain great works of art offer clues on managing the tensions and confusions of everyday life and that, approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.”

Quickly shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you check the progress on your photos. Approximately 20 minutes remaining.

You huff, slap the book closed, and toss it on the desk before getting up and walking to your room. There’s an old shoe box on one of your shelves that you like to go through when you’re feeling sad or having a weird day, which feels about right at this moment.

You plop down on your bed and set the box in front of you, opening up the lid. The rush of nostalgia and warmth that comes over you when going through this box is overwhelming sometimes. It’s filled with miscellaneous photos that you’ve taken on your film camera over the past few years. There are some that capture your favorite buildings and murals throughout the city. There are a lot from when you went to the pride celebrations last year. The majority of the pictures in the box capture candid moments of your friends and family. These kinds of pictures are the ones that remind you of why you love photography so much and even after getting high marks on your work for the institute, these are the ones that you end up feeling the most proud of.

You see your friends from out of state standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge from the time they paid you a surprise visit. Another one shows your cousin at his college graduation. There’s one of your friend and coworker, Sarah, and her boyfriend Mitch from the day you and Harry helped them move into their new apartment, proudly holding up the keys, smiling from ear to ear.

And then there’s quite a lot of Harry. Harry playing pool at a bar across town, Harry at the beach tossing a football with Mitch, a kind of blurry one of him going crazy at an Ariana Grande concert. You laugh out loud when you find the one of him proudly wearing your dress during a drunken game of truth or dare, and the one of him making a ‘kissy’ face at you in those obnoxious Gucci sunglasses that he wore for pretty much an entire summer. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve experienced together until you go back and look at these pictures.

You’ve been flipping through them pretty quickly, but you come across one that makes you freeze. It’s from your friend’s birthday party a few months ago. You got someone to take a picture of yourself with Sarah and Mitch, but Harry decided to jump in. In the picture, Mitch is in the middle of you and Sarah, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and Harry has his arms hugged tight around your middle and his cheek is pressed to yours. It could be seen as a form of affection, if his face wasn’t covered in icing from your friend’s birthday cake. The photo is perfectly timed to capture everyone’s shocked laughter.

Just by looking at this photo again, you can feel his smile against your cheek and his arms holding you close. It’s a feeling you’ve been wanting more of ever since that night. Maybe that’s the ‘intimate question’ you’ve been asking yourself- Do you really want more with Harry?

**April 26th, 2020. 6:58pm**

You’re sure nobody on the street could miss you and Harry. After saying quick ‘thank you’s to the uber driver, you grab hands and start jogging toward the entrance of the SFJAZZ Center- a three story building with windows wrapping all the way around. The show is supposed to start in two minutes. You would have arrived much earlier if Harry hadn’t left the tickets on his kitchen table. You’re both dodging and weaving through people on the sidewalk, you in your favorite floral dress and Harry in a bold green suit jacket.

Once in the lobby, you both reduce your pace to a brisk walk and you readjust the bag on your shoulder. Harry’s hand is still holding yours as you’re both scanning the lobby for the right place to go. You spot a couple of employees closing doors labeled ‘main hall seating’.

“Over here,” you say, pulling Harry along with you.

Luckily, you’re able to catch the ushers in time to show them your tickets and be let in. The expansive auditorium is filled with the sound of chattering people and musicians warming up their instruments.

Thankfully, your seats are in a row toward the back and to the left of the stage, so you don’t have to make too big of a scene when scooting past people. Right when you settle in, the house lights dim, the chatter rapidly dies down, and the band on the stage goes silent.

The lull is soon replaced with applause when a woman walks out and stands center stage. She introduces herself as the director of programming and welcomes the audience. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Your support means so much to this center as we continue to make music and art and do what we love to do.” She pauses to hold up a booklet in her hands. “As you may have seen in your program, tonight’s performance is a special one.”

For the first time, you glance around the room and notice almost everyone but you and Harry has a program in their lap or held in their hands.

The woman on stage continues. “Some of you may know this, and some of you may not, but April is the birth month of American jazz singer, Billie Holiday. So, to honor her legacy, this lovely band sitting behind me has put together arrangements of some of her greatest hits.” Applause fills the room once again.

“Some of the performances tonight will feature vocalists and some will be done with the band only, so I hope everyone will find something they enjoy. Now, without further ado, I present to you A Little Love, with Billie Holiday.”

There is applause for a third time, but your hands are suddenly too heavy in your lap to join in. As the director exits the stage and another woman, presumably the vocalist, takes her place, your mind is reeling at the situation you’re currently in. How have you wound up at a jazz concert dedicated to love, that you decided to attend on a whim, with your best friend that you suddenly have overwhelming feelings for?

All of the subtle signs and notions of feelings you have had over the years have turned into blaring alarms, and they’re all pointing to one person. The man sitting right next to you, who is also sitting stock still in his seat.

There’s a drumroll from the stage followed by a light and smooth saxophone solo that brings you back into the moment. The vocalist begins the captivating first verse of Billie Holiday’s You Go to My Head.

You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You slowly sink about three inches down into your seat. You wish you had a program now so that you could at least use it to fan your face. You reach your hand up to dab at your forehead.

At the same time Harry takes a deep breath and lightly trills his lips while itching the bridge of his nose.

The vocalist continues to sing the lyrics that are hitting you directly in the gut.

The thrill of the thought

That you might give a thought to my plea

Casts a spell over me

Still I say to myself “Get a hold of yourself”

Can’t you see that it never can be

You glance around the auditorium as much as you can without turning your head in Harry’s direction, wondering if anyone else is feeling the temperature rise or the tension that seems to be wrapped around the both of you.

You go to my head

With a smile that makes my temperature rise

Like a summer with a thousand Julys

You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I’m certain that this heart of mine

Hasn’t the ghost of a chance in this crazy romance

You go to my head

Your mind is reeling yet again at the situation you’re in. This must be some kind of elaborate prank that the universe is pulling on you. You’re half expecting a spotlight to fall on you and Harry that nobody in the room would even question.

The feeling doesn’t lift as the concert goes on. Soulful songs about a lover’s eyes, falling in love, how easy it is to live when you’re in love. Even where there is not a vocalist, you seem to know what the songs are implying.

Something that comes up in your rapid stream of thoughts is the author’s note you read earlier, “approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.” You ask yourself the question again: Do you want more with Harry?

You think about the pictures of the times you’ve spent together. Crazy shifts at the bar, days in the park, breakfasts, dinners, late nights staying up talking about god knows what. You know the answer. You’ve always known the answer.

It seems like your heart has caught up with your thoughts, because it’s pounding in your chest.

Halfway through the final song of the night, you decide to steal a glance at Harry. Slowly turning your head, you peek through the corner of your eye.

A quick jolt of electricity runs through your entire body when you see that Harry already has his eyes on you. You turn your head back to the stage, but you can still feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

When thunderous applause breaks out after the final song, Harry turns his head back to the stage as you both limply clap along with the audience.

******************

This is the most quiet car ride of your life. There isn’t even any music being played in the background. The only words that have been exchanged between you and Harry since the concert ended were when he asked you if it was okay for the uber to just drop you both at your building and you answered with a simple ‘sure’.

There are so many feelings swirling around in you that you don’t know what to do with, and you definitely don’t want all of them to spill out in this stranger’s car, so you keep your jaw clenched as you look out of the window.

The car comes to a stop outside of your building and you both mutter ‘thank you’s as you climb out. You both silently make your way through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway to your door.

Just last night you were making the same trip. You were making light jokes about wanting to steal Harry’s jacket and he was joking back, accusing you of wanting him to freeze to death. You had to remind each other not to laugh so loud so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. Now the only sound in the hallway is your shoes on the floor.

Once you reach your door, you open your bag and start digging for your keys. “Thanks, um, thanks for inviting me. It was a really good show.” You find your keys and push them into the lock before turning your eyes to Harry.

He has one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Yeah it was... it was fun. Glad you could come with me.” He moves his hands from their places and awkwardly moves his arms out for a hug.

You smile and let out a sharp exhale through your nose at the awkwardness of this whole situation, but you gladly reciprocate the hug. Your arms completely wrap around each other, your hands tightly gripping his jacket. You can smell his cologne, like ginger and honey and cedar, and it’s making your head spin. You embrace for a few seconds and then release each other.

Harry sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly takes a few steps to turn away.

You turn the key in the lock, then turn your head to watch Harry take his first few steps away from you. You don’t want him to get any further.

“Harry?”

He stops and turns around to face you. “Yeah?”

You cannot believe the question that’s coming to your mind, but it’s the only thing that’s been coherent enough to put into words. You gulp and take a deep breath before asking, “Do you… do you still wish you could kiss me?”

You watch about three different emotions pass across Harry’s face. His mouth opens, his head tilts to the side, then his mouth closes and his eyes shift to the floor.

You feel a flood of regret. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. That was stupid. He doesn’t remember. Just play it off.

You know your face is flushed with embarrassment as you speak softly, “I’m sorry. I just. That night that you were really drunk and I brought you back here, you said that you wish- that you wished y-”

Hearing Harry say your name stops your rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I know what I said.” He’s eyeing you cautiously and taking a couple of steps toward you again. “And… yeah. I still wish I could kiss you. Felt that way for… a while now.”

Tears are brimming your eyes as you look into his, trying to absorb what he’s just said. Then it’s almost like the floor beneath you tilts in his direction, nudging you to move forward until you’re standing directly in front of him. You can smell his cologne again.

With your eyes still locked into his, you slowly raise your hands to place them on the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper, “I wish I could kiss you, too.”

Harry gulps and shifts his eyes down to your lips. He takes a deep breath through his nose before you feel his hand lightly grip your waist and his other hand takes a similar position on your neck.

You both stand there for a few breaths, eyes roaming over each other’s faces.

You start to lean in and then stop about half way and close your eyes. You’re both just waiting to see who will close the gap.

After a moment, you feel Harry’s grip on your neck and waist tighten and you feel him leaning in. Then his lips are on yours. They’re on yours again and again. You tilt your heads to deepen the kisses and he takes a step toward you. You follow his lead until your back is pressed against your door.

As much as it pains you to do so, you have to stop so you can catch your breath. You reach one of your hands into his hair and lightly pull him away. Both of you are breathing  in sync.

Once your breathing is evened out, you lock eyes with Harry. Your heart flutters when you exchange shy but knowing smiles and his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

After clearing your throat, you move your hand to your door knob. “Do you want to come in?”

Harry glances at your hand then returns his eyes to yours. He purses his lips and takes a sharp breath in. “I just want to know what you want.”

What just happened a few seconds ago already seems monumental to you. After the emotional roller coaster of this day, you’re not sure whether or not you’re ready for more tonight.

You take your hand from the doorknob and run it along his shoulder to return it to its previous position on his neck. “Honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted from today.” You watch as Harry nods his head in understanding. “I think all I want tonight is to hold you,” you notice the softness in his eyes, the same softness that you noticed for a fleeting second in the bar last night. “And keep kissing you.” This makes a lopsided smirk pop onto his face. “And I want to talk in the morning. About us.”

Harry leans in and presses a sweet peck to your lips. “I think we can do that.”

*******************

If anyone would have told you that your day was going to end with you and Harry in your bed, your head on his chest, and him running his fingers soothingly over your back, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Harry?” you say softly, just as your eyelids are starting to get heavy.

His fingers stop for a moment, “Yeah?”

Thinking over the sequence of events that led you to where you are now, you start to erupt into sleepy giggles. “Did you know that the performance was gonna be,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “that?”

Harry lets out a deep belly laugh and when you glance up at him, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t have planned that if I tried.”

Before you know it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, recounting the insane timing of the whole situation.

Harry rolls to his side so that he’s facing you and places a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’ll have to tell that client that any repairs she wants are on the house now.”

You throw your head back laughing and he pulls you into his chest, smothering your neck with kisses before resting his chin on top of your head.

If this is all you could have for the rest of your life, just a little love from each other, you would never want anything more.

************************************************************

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[morgana-ren]

Come Down to the Black Sea

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent. 

Rating: Teen, unless I chose to post the later chapters. Then things get all dirty and stuff.

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki. So, there’s that. Foul language, as always. Slight struggle.

Hello, please take my garbage. This was originally a discord exclusive ficlet that ended up too fucking long. I meant to post it a while back but got distracted. I’ve read over it and I hate it a lot more than I did originally, more than I can really convey, but I feel bad for not posting anything story related for a while and maybe some folks will enjoy this. I promise I edited, I swear. Never thought I’d write something like this. Ever. and by ‘like this’, I mean no filth less than 500 words in. Either way, here it is. 

“What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.”

The sea is as much a constant to you as the gentle breeze that blankets your little port town. Every action you take daily in some small way reminds you that not so far away, the unforgiving tides are lapping hungrily at the shore and the restless ocean waters stir miles from the coast. Every breath you take is somewhat tinged with the briny smell of sea salt and slight sulfur. Seafood stalls and restaurants dot the coastal region, making up a large portion of the diets and employ of the folks who make their homes here. 

Yet, for as big of a part of their lives as it is, there is so little known about it. 

The ocean’s mysteries are as vast as her expanse and as deep as the trenches that lurk within her depths. 

Children are raised on cautionary tales, made acutely aware of the ever-present dangers of life near the open water. Rip currents and drowning, sailors lost at sea and boats that never make it to harbor. Hostile creatures that make their nests within the darkened deep  beyond the pale of human experience. These things are often as mysterious as they are tragic and leave behind loved ones mourning not only the loss of lives, but the answers they’ll never have.

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if your kind has gotten just a bit too comfortable near the seaside. 

You’re not the only one that thinks so. 

It’s not by any stretch of the imagination to consider humans a loud and overwhelming presence. They dominate any space they come across, often having little to no regard for any other living creature and imposing their will on anything unfortunate enough to cross their path. Once tranquil steads are trampled, native creatures baited and hunted, and soon there’s no semblance of the beauty that once existed. Humanity leaves behind an impossibly large footprint that destroys whatever is caught beneath its crushing boot.

The ocean is no exception. 

Sailors, whalers, and fishermen blot the waters, disrupting the natural cycles of the creatures that make their homes beneath them. Garbage, rot, and other various forms of filth are callously dumped and left to drift. Human hubris has seen the death of the coral reefs, the extinction of entire species, and even radiation left to leak and poison everything in its path. 

The only place safe from the fecund shadow of destruction that looms wherever humans may roam are places far too treacherous to facilitate their survival. 

You’ve come to believe that maybe beings that are forced to breed in that darkness grow to harbor a grudge against that which pushed them there.

Your little seaport city has always been relatively calm. It attracts enough tourists to keep it economically stable, but not so many as to make it a cultural hub. The signature beaches are only mildly clogged with tourist trap giftshops, and while the sands are busy, there’s not so much foot traffic as to make it unpleasant to visit. 

Things have run relatively smoothly for your hometown, at least for the majority of your life. There’s the one-off oddity every now and again, but for the most part, it’s a fine place to live. The native folk are kind enough, and there’s decent opportunity for growth. Still, life always left something to be desired; some greater need that tugs at you and calls you toward the ocean.

Watching the fishing vessels come to and from the bay can be calming. What started as a time wasting hobby as a child has turned into a nightly practice. The marine layer makes it difficult to see early mornings, and the incessant chatter of tourists and their screeching younglings make it difficult to think during the daylight hours. It didn’t take long before the boats mattered little, and it was the time alone you valued. You’d curl up in the still-warm sand, gazing out into the horizon and watching the moon rise high above the waves, listening to the sound of the ocean and losing yourself in its subtle song.

Even as adulthood inevitably sought you out, you found time for your solitary moments that existed between no one but you and the horizon. 

It brought you a sense of peace. No matter how much time passed, a part of you stayed anchored to the beach. 

Yet, nothing stays peaceful forever, especially near the rocky shoreline.

It started with a missing boat.

It was the talk of the town. A small schooner had gone missing just off the coast and never returned. A band of brothers had set out for a weekend voyage and by Tuesday, no word of them had returned to shore. It had made the local news, pictures of the men aboard flashed across the screen, all smiling faces and sunburned skin. They were experienced sailors, raised on the waves and having spent more time in a boat than they did on land.

Surely, they were fine. Everyone hoped for the best. 

At least until pieces of the boat washed ashore a week later, no sign of brothers anywhere.

That incident was the first of many.

Early morning swimmers began to disappear without a trace, divers vanishing without warning. More and more boats failed to make it to harbor despite calm conditions, and soon some people rejected the water all together. The missing persons board was filled with more macabre grinning faces that served as reminders than ever before, and inevitably, people became paranoid.

Superstition gained favor over logic, and tales spread of a malevolent being plaguing the coast began to spread. Children were warned against playing in the tides and tourists begin to shy away from the port. Locals and witnesses talk amongst each other, claiming to see a pair of vicious, glowing red eyes from deep within the water after dark.

Those who denied the possibility shunned those who fell into the myth, claiming that it was clearly boat lights and that folks were too finicky. There was no mysterious sea monster, only misfortune and the loose lips of idle handed fools. 

Still, that didn’t account for the sudden surge in disappearances nor did it explain why no remains were ever found. 

The mysteries intrigued you, but you worry little for the danger. While you weren’t entirely sure what to think, you never stepped far into the ocean on your nightly visits, mostly only skirting around the water’s edges and observing. Superstition be damned, this was the one place you felt a sense of utter calm and peace. You’re not disturbing the sea or her inhabitants; only sitting by her and admiring her beauty.

You mind your business along the beach and you think that keeps you safe, but that doesn’t spare you his wrath.

A lonely night walker, you loiter along the sands and drag your feet through the wetness. You never let the water flood past your ankles, opting to squish the damp muck beneath your toes instead. He watches you, just out of his reach and still so close. Rage simmers in his chest and his fingers twitch, longing to rip you apart, feel your heartbeat as it slows and ceases beneath his fingertips. He doesn’t dare try his luck against the surface, but you infuriate him. 

Time and time again, he’s tried to lure you out.

You never fall for it, though he can tell by the way your eyes linger on the ocean a tad too long that you're curious. If he cared enough to place it, he'd say you look sad, maybe a little forlorn. After all, who comes to a deserted beach alone at night that isn't?

Always the same section of sand, always the same look on your face. You kick at the particles stuck to your grimy feet like it'll sooth whatever repressed emotion you're stewing in, and he can't help but scoff. 

Humans are completely ridiculous. 

Still, he watches, determined to see you inhale deep the waters around you while what little light you have left in your eyes leaves, same as the rest of your kind that has fallen prey to his deadly actions.

Night after night he waits, and night after night you resist. You don't fall for his tricks, even the ones that beguile the seasoned sailors. It's curious, he'll admit. No matter how longingly you look at the ocean like it could offer you something you need desperately, you never give into the temptation to wade just a little deeper, just take a few fucking steps forward. Perhaps you come from a sea fairing family who had elders that warned against the seduction of the low night tides, or maybe your primal human brain still holds an inkling as to what dwells deep beneath your world, but either way, it agitates him more than he'd like.

He's always had a wanderlust and never sticks around the same sections for long, but the fact that you've been evading the watery grave he dug just for you grates at him. He finds himself waiting moonrise after moonrise to see your form emerge, wracking his brain for ways to trick your feeble human mind into his waters. He's better than you, in every sense of the word. This shouldn't be this difficult. 

If he didn't know better, he would say that you know. You never quite look directly at him, but your head is always turned in his direction, as if you have some sixth sense of his location. He doesn't like it. Even though you're the one in the sights of a predator, it makes him feel like a goldfish trapped in a tank. You piss him off.

But eventually, one night, his patience finally pays off.

Warily, you perch yourself on some rocks that stray into the ocean. You don't even dip your feet in, which, while not ideal, would have been enough for him to work with. Instead, you sit with your arms crossed over your knees, same distant grimace on your face that you sport every night. You seem hypnotized by the reflection of the moon on his waters, hardly blinking or even really breathing except for the occasional despondent sigh.

The thing that stirs you from your daze is a flash of silver just under the water beneath where you're sitting. At first you think it's a fish, since it's not uncommon to see them around when all the beachgoers retreat for the day, but the eerie luminescent glow is unlike any fish you've ever seen before in a life almost wholly occupied by the sea. You watch intently for a moment, hoping to see it again, but give up when all that greets you is the deep, murky blue of sunsetted waters. 

Still, once you pull your eyes from the gently splashing waves, it catches your attention once more. You're curious if you're just seeing strange broken reflections of the moon, but that wouldn't explain why once you offer it your attention, it disappears.

You keep your eyes down and stare long into the water, and eventually it appears again. Long and stringy, it’s definitely unlike any fish fin you've ever seen. It's incandescent almost, reflecting the silvery light of the moon with an oddly hypnotizing pearlescent glow. You’ll admit, it’s strange, but what alarms you the most are the two crimson eyes staring up at you from beneath the tangle of silvered webbing.

You almost recoil, but you're anchored in place by some hybrid mix of fear and curiosity. The urge to scream becomes paralyzed somewhere deep in your throat when a thin, gangly arm reaches up and grasps at the craggy surface of the rock before your feet. It looks… human... or at least it would, if it wasn't for the slight iridescent sheen of the skin- if you look closely, you can almost make out what appears to be scales and a thin fin that runs the expanse of the forearm. Thick, slimy webbing coats the inside of each finger, becoming more apparent as long claws stretch and crawl toward your retracted legs.

Those maliciously alluring eyes draw closer and closer to the surface and soon enough, you can make out what appears to be a face somewhere just under the waves staring right back up you.

Another hand joins the one currently clinging to the rock and the figure hoists itself up partway from the water, and soon you're face to face with... 

Well, you can't really say what. 

You were right, it's human. He's human. At least… half human?

Drenched white hair slicks back just below his shoulders and clings to the sides of his face, beadlets of water sliding down from the wintery strands down to what appears to be a pair of gills that encircle the rounds of his neck. There's something akin to black fins parting the slicked hair where his ears should be, but even that's not enough to pull your attention from the perverse scarlet eyes burning into yours from behind the severely salt-chapped flesh of his face. 

Unnatural hue aside, they’re utterly petrifying, and while something deep in your body tells you that you should run, you can't bring yourself to move from the spot. 

He pulls himself up a bit, lithe torso exposed as he lazily rests his head on his finned forearms by your feet. His body language is completely contradicted by the obvious hate in his expression, which only makes it even more difficult for your brain to try and decide what in the fuck you're supposed to do in this situation. 

What the hell is he?

You try to ask, but the shock of seemingly stumbling upon a possibly malevolent supernatural creature in the dead of night has caused a severe regression in your speech capabilities. The only thing your mouth is capable of producing is a series of incoherent babbles and sounds, hands shaking as your resist the urge to touch him to see if he's real or if you've been slipped some form of extremely powerful hallucinogen.

He studies you briefly through pale lashes and you could swear you see him roll his eyes before a prolonged blink. 

I'm sorry, is this not the expected result? He's looking at you like you're the weird one in this scenario?

Regardless, he lets you stare at him and allows your feeble human brain to come to terms with what you're seeing. Amazing, how quickly your kind forgets you don't exist alone. He draws the line, however, when you finally find the ability to go to poke his fins. He swats you away with an unnaturally quick movement from his slippery, wet hand and you stare at the water spots he leaves behind like it's the strangest shit you've ever seen.

"Are you often so rude as to touch strangers, human?"

You skitter back on your ass, eyes wide and disbelieving even as the truth stares you back with a mocking expression. His voice is raspy and graveled, cracking from what you assume is disuse. It takes you a moment to process his words, despite being absolutely certain that you’ve heard them.

 "Holy fuck, you're real!"

"Just grasping that, are we?"

"What the fuck are you?"

His face contorts and his lips lift in a snarl, revealing the extremely sharp looking fangs on either side of his mouth. Okay, so that might've been extremely rude. He's obviously sentient, so maybe saying something so brash and offensive wasn't really the way to go.

"Sorry, I mean -fuck - I've just never, uh-" You clear your throat awkwardly, still trying to decide whether or not to bolt. He watches you through tautly narrowed lids, and you get the feeling you should tread very carefully. Whatever emotion it is you see in his face, it certainly isn't patience.

"Are you a..." What would you call him? A mermaid? A fish-man? A sea spirit? It doesn't quite matter, since he doesn't give you time to finish your line of thought.

"Your people have no word for what I am." He speaks the words almost bitterly. "But just because your kind doesn’t acknowledge me doesn't mean I don't exist."

You're not entirely sure if you should apologize on behalf of the human race or admit yourself into a psych ward.

"What, uh, what should I call you... Um, sir?" Smooth. But you're not really sure what to say here. What exactly are proper honorifics when it comes to situations like this? 

"My name," He sighs again, as if it's some great chore to introduce himself. "Is Shigaraki."

"Okay, Shigaraki," You say his name, trying to get the hang of it as it rolls off your tongue. "It's nice to meet you- I think?"

He pays your attempt at polite conversation no mind at all. 

"What are you doing here, human?" 

Okay, he's curt and to the point. Good to know. He seems to have very little consideration for your bewilderment, despite being the one that demanded your attention in the first place, which isn’t necessarily a good thing when you don’t really know how to answer his question between the confusion and the sheer oddity. To be frank, you can’t muster much of a response. 

"Just... sitting here?" 

"No, I mean what are you doing? Every single night, you come here, you look at the sea for hours. Why?"

His pointed tone demands an answer, seeming irate or even provoked by your harmless nightly activity. 

"I don't know." For some reason, the question frustrates you as well, mainly because you really don't know. The ocean soothes you, even if you're just spectating it. It's too busy during the day, packed with tourists and teenagers yelling and bounding around in the sand, and while you're happy they're having a good time and all, the voices are impossible to drown out. Even the sea seems to protest their presence, the tide becoming higher and higher and more rambunctious until it almost forces the invaders out. More than once, folks have almost drowned for being too stubborn and refusing to cut their beach day short despite the obvious danger.

It seems to calm itself at night, waves gently washing ashore instead of slapping angrily at the feet of anyone treading the sand as if it's trying to coax them deeper only to pull them under. 

"You don't know?" It seems more like a statement than a question, and it's an unimpressed statement at that.

"Yeah. I don't really know. I just like being here, I suppose." You shrug, letting your arms fall limp at your sides. It could be the shock, but somehow, you’re actually managing to carry on the conversation with him. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Something flashes in his eyes, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Once again his body language drastically contradicts the vibe you're getting from him. He leans back casually in the water, and just beneath the edge, you see something slick and shiny flutter where you're certain his legs should be. "I guess not. But if you like it here so much, why don't you ever come in?"

"I-I don't know... The water is dangerous at night..."

“Is ‘I don’t know’ all you know how to say?” He gives you a derisive smile, mocking your tone while swimming graceful circles back and forth in front of the rock with an inhuman grace that sets you on edge. "Don't tell me you're scared, little human."

"I'm not scared, I'm just not stupid."

He runs his tongue over his fangs and something akin to a smile crosses his features. "Sure you're not. A little girl like you could never be afraid of a little water."

He's taunting you and you know it, but the way his eyes stay locked with yours as he swims around and around and around is making you feel a little dizzy...

"I'm not afraid-" 

"Come in then."

He dips into the water and disappears, and despite knowing better, you find yourself leaning over the rock to see where he's gone. He's waiting for you just under the waves. You can see the fluid flap of an ebony tail glimmering in the moonlight, silver hair haloed around his head. One clawed finger beckons you toward him, and you can feel yourself leaning further and further.

You're willing yourself to draw back, but the closest you can come is ceasing your forward movements. Even as you try, you can't pull your eyes away from his, staring unblinkingly up at you and glowing that foreboding sanguine shade that cuts even through the darkness of the waves.

'Come in, little girl. Show me you're not scared.’

His webbed hand threads up through the rippling surface, ready and waiting for yours. 

You can't help it. 

You reach.

You feel the slippery surface of his scaley skin interlocking with yours before something in his expression morphs into something wholly ominous and knocks you from your stupor. His magnetic eyes darken, sinister snarl hinting through the smile he’s straining to keep. This isn’t a serene sea creature playfully helping you face your fears; the ill intent is written on his face too prevalently as his mesmeric movements lure you toward the water. 

This is a predator, one determined to sink his teeth deep into your neck and steal the life from your still beating heart. You can feel it as his grip begins to tighten on your own palm.

Whatever spell he might have been casting has been broken if only just enough for you to shake yourself free. He's almost fully closed his fingers around yours before you jerk sharply, yanking your hand away. In anticipation of your movements, he thrusts up and out of the water, sharp claws digging hold into the skin of your forearm. You cry out from surprise more so than the pain even though the tips of his pointed talons slice open your skin with little to no resistance.

Fangs bared and enraged, he’s clearly livid now. All facade of relaxation falls away as his tail flaps furiously trying to pull you into the water with him. He's strong, but your will to live is stronger. The layered skin of your knees breaks as it scrapes against the jagged rock, body thrashing and desperately try to release yourself from his unyielding grip 

"Let go of me!" 

"Get in, you little brat!" 

"No!"

Falling backwards and trying to use your weight as leverage, you do your best to kick the creature off. You land a few good hits on his lean chest, but it's not enough to fully dislodge his grip. It takes a well-placed, hard slap to the side of one of his headfins to finally stun him. It was a last-ditch effort, but oddly enough, it works. 

He instinctively releases you in favor of cradling his tender, damaged fin. It isn’t long before he realizes his error and comes to his senses, but it gives you just enough time to pull away. He snaps forward several more times in pure, seething rage, fingers clamping around nothing but air in his failed attempt to seize you once more.

Sputtering and hissing, he even crawls partway onto the rock as you're furiously backpedaling away from the water to save yourself, giving you good look at where his hips meet the sleek scales of his pitch-black tail. It’s fascinating, beautiful even, but your body knows better than to slow to give yourself a better look. The split-second flash in your memory will have to suffice, coupled with the sheer and utter terror that will no doubt be permanently ingrained in your memory from this encounter. 

His inflamed face and vividly gleaming red eyes that watch you with palpable hate written in his expression are the last thing you see before pushing yourself up on your haunches and sprinting away from the sea as quickly as your little human legs can carry you. 

He watches you run, slamming a fist down on the rock in frustration and spitting out curses. He almost had you. He was so fucking close!

Once he manages to calm himself, he allows himself to coax the sore fin on the side of his head. Its thrumming in pain, overly sensitive to the touch. It was like you had known just where to hit him to make it hurt. Yet, as angry as he is, he can't deny that you're interesting.

"You can't escape me, girl. You'll be back."

The sea calls to you, and you can’t resist that call forever. You can’t resist him forever.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH15

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: NSFW, Fluff

WC: 4290

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Dean left her to splash around because he had a business call coming in. Y/N was surprised, she never knew that he works on weekends. 

When she climbs up the stairs from the sea, she washes herself free from the salt water under the spray of the shower on the balcony, and slips into the pool. 

She can see Dean sitting on their bed with a laptop on his lap and a headset in his ears. He already changed into his swimming trunks so no video call, then. 

He’s laughing at a joke someone made and looks up. Their eyes meet. 

Getting out of the pool, she lies down on the sun lounger, letting her skin catch some rays. Her skin burns, but not necessarily from the sun. No, the burning feeling definitely comes from Dean’s gaze that followed her from the pool to the lounger. 

After a while she turns from her back onto her stomach. She closes her eyes, feels the ray of sun warming up her whole body. 

“Jesus, Y/N,”

She hears Dean’s voice from behind her, and blinks her eyes open. He sits down next to her. From this view she can see the creases his stomach makes when he sits. It doesn’t make him look less sexy, and that is totally not fair.

“You’re going to look like a lobster tonight and not a living one!” He sits down and she hears a squirt of a bottle before she feels his hands rubbing at her back, applying sunscreen all over.

“Mmh,” She sighs. It really does feel good.

Dean moves lower, works his hands over her lower back and then he moves her bottoms, pushing them into the crack of her ass to apply sunscreen on her ass cheeks. He takes more time there, kneads them roughly before jiggling them in his hands.

“Hey!” She laughs.

“What? That’s how I apply sunscreen,” 

“Sure,” 

He works down her thighs, getting his fingers between them and brushes against her clothed pussy. My god, she’s turned on by a simple touch. 

She hears a groan as he works his hand there, rubbing at her clit through her bikini bottoms, “Dean,”

“Right,” He clears his throat, and works down her legs to her toes.

When he finishes that area, he comes up again, applies more sunscreen onto her shoulders. He pulls at her bikini top, making it come loose. 

“Dean!”

“Relax, nobody will see,” He rubs his hands along the base of her neck, “Turn around,” 

He’s right. They overlook the big blue sea, there’s nobody close by. She turns herself around and lets him apply sunscreen to her chest. He pulls the bikini top over her head and drops it next to the sun lounger only to cup her tits in his hands.

Leaning down, he captures one of her nipples in his mouth and sucks at it. She arches her back at the sensation and a soft moan rolls off her tongue.

Dean takes his time with her other nipple too, while his other hand kneads and pinches her other breast and nipple. 

After what seems like forever, Dean comes up again and smirks, her nipples are hard and perky, “Right, gotta finish what I started,” He says, works some more sunscreen down her stomach and her thighs. To her surprise he didn’t touch her where she wants him most but she thinks it’s just a stupid game he plays. 

When Dean screws the sunscreen bottle shut and stands up, she can see the tent in his swimming trunks. He’s definitely not able to hide that. 

Smirking, she asks, “You are not going to enjoy paradise with me?” 

He lets out a soft chuckle before he sits down again, his hands stroking her cheek, “I got another conference call. I should be finished in about two hours, okay? Gotta wait til then,”

“Okay,” She pouts and he thumbs at her lips before he bends down, kissing her soft and sweet. 

“Maybe you should go into the shade, or at least out of my fucking sight.” Dean growls a little and smacks her thigh. 

“Why?” She turns around on her stomach and he can’t help but smack her ass, too. 

“You’re fucking distracting when I’m trying to close a deal.” 

She giggles at that and wriggles with her ass some more. Dean spanks her one more time before he leaves to go inside.

*

Two hours came and went and Dean’s still not finished. Deciding that she’s had enough of the sun for the time being, Y/N goes inside to take a shower. It’s slowly getting darker, so she closes the door to their bungalow because she hates to have mosquitoes inside. Although, she guesses that there won’t be a lot of them because they’re so far out from the beach and there’s a steady breeze going all the time.

Dean didn’t seem to notice her because he had moved to sit at the desk to face the wall with his laptop. Apparently, she really did distract him. He had ordered room service in the afternoon and made a reservation at a restaurant here in the resort for the first night, but if he doesn’t finish soon, she doesn’t know if they can make it there on time.

After her shower, she walks out in a comfy bathrobe. Dean’s still chatting away at the screen and typing up an email simultaneously. She takes a book out of her suitcase and plants herself on the bed, her back  rests against the headboard. The mattress feels comfy, and honestly, she can’t wait to sleep in it. She feels a little tired from the travel and the sun kissed her skin enough to make it glow after she moisturized it.

Just when she was about to open up the book to where she left off, her phone pings. She takes it from the charger. 

 R: [picture]

R: Guess you’re a celebrity now, huh? Don’t ever forget me, alright?

 Y/N thumbs the message open. It’s a picture of her and Dean at the airport, not really a paparazzi picture because the resolution of the picture is not that high and she can see that someone took it sneakily.

 Y/N: I am shocked they recognized Dean. It was so fucking early in the morning.

R: Everyone would recognize Dean.

 Ruby’s probably not wrong. 

 R: How’s Jamaica? 

Y/N: Great. I’ve been in the sea already and Dean spent his afternoon on conference calls. 

R: Sam said something about the deadline of closing a deal, poor you. He’s got to make up for it.

Y/N: Yeah, maybe he will.

R: [picture] 

R: I’m at his apartment, still. 

 The picture shows Ruby’s face and in the back, Sam’s sitting lazily on his couch. She grins, is truly happy about their progress. 

When she’s about to type something back, Dean stands up to take his headset off, and he rubs at his ear. It’s probably itching like hell. She has the same problem when she wears a headset for too long. 

Dean stretches himself. He’s still in only his swimming trunks. She can see every muscle moving and twitching. It’s kind of a turn on, not going to lie about it. 

He lets out a loud groan before he looks over to the bed and notices her. His lips curve into a smile as he slumps his shoulders down and walks over to the bed. He crawls over to where she is lying and lays his head into her lap. 

“I’m so exhausted,” He mumbles into the fluffy bathrobe and she chuckles, her hand strokes at his head. 

“I hope it was worth missing out on a swim for,” 

He looks up from her lap, grins the boyish grin of his that she has come to like, “We have a reason for celebration,” 

“Is that so?” She lifts one of her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” He nuzzles his head deeper into her lap, “Finally I can invest in that company I was after. Their chairman didn’t agree on the conditions on Friday but it seems like I could convince him.”

“How did you do that?”

He smiles again, “I’m just that good.”

She rolls her eyes at his cockiness. 

Dean turns in her lap, looks up to her, “What were you doing?” 

“I took a shower,”

His eyes widen, and he gasps all fake and adorably, “You took a shower without me?” 

“Well, you were busy, sir.” 

“And why were you grinning before?” He turns to his side, buries his face into her stomach and she strokes his hair once more.

“You didn’t notice when I was showering but you notice me grinning?”

He laughs into her bathrobe, it feels warm where his breathing hits, “Yeah, I always notice you grinning, or smiling, or laughing for that matter.”

“Ruby sent a text. There was a picture of us at the airport.”

Dean stills and looks up, “Already?”

Y/N thumbs over her phone to show it to him. Dean’s expression is unreadable. 

“I don’t like it,” He mumbles, “I mean, it helps the case but I don't like people snapping private pictures behind my back.”

“We’re not exactly private, Dean. I’m your fake wife for a reason.”

He doesn’t answer, he sits up instead and he’s thinking about something, she can tell by the way he looks at her. She decides to change the subject, and shows him another picture. The one of Ruby and Sam in the background. 

Dean snorts, “Tell her that Sam better fucking check his emails. He’s got work to do since I worked all day to close this deal.”

She types away, wants to send Ruby Dean’s exact words but before she could hit the send button, he takes the phone from her hand and places it on to her night stand, “Hey!”

“I didn’t mean now,” He grins and slots himself between her legs, still on his knees, and pulls at her legs until she’s lying flat on her back.

“No?” She asks, it’s her turn to grin cockily. 

“Nuh-uh,” Dean mumbles, his fingers working on the rope of her bathrobe. It’s barely held together so he has no problem opening it up. Dean swallows when he sees that she’s naked.

He gets back on his knees and leans over her, his hand cradling her face as he kisses her. And again, it grows from soft and tender to rough and hard, no other man has ever kissed her like Dean does. He kisses her as if he wants to claim her, as if he wants to dominate her, to make her his. And honestly, that’s all she wants at this very moment. 

Her mind doesn’t agree though because she realizes that they have a dinner reservation and they’re not going to make it when he keeps on kissing her the way he does. 

She breaks the kiss, and Dean can’t quite stop, sprays little kisses on her face, down her throat, “Dean, we’ll be late for dinner.”

Dean chuckles, pulls at the skin of her throat with his teeth, “I don’t know about you, but I’m about to have dinner.”

“Oh my god,” He’s so full of himself. Of course she likes it, but still…

“Baby, it’s the first time that I get to have you horizontal, you think I care about dinner?” He cocks an eyebrow before his mouth latches at her throat and kisses down a path to her chest. 

He flicks his tongue against one of her nipples, kneads the other tit in his big fucking hand and she writhes below him. Her hands fly to his head, fists themselves in his hair. Dean seals his whole mouth around her nipple, tickling it on the inside with his tongue and he uses his teeth too, making her moan out at the sensation and there’s something pulsing between her thighs but she can’t quite reach there because Dean’s blocking her fucking way. 

“Dean,” She whimpers, doesn’t care that it sounds needy because that’s all she fucking is. She squirms some more to make him notice. 

Dean chuckles and sucks in her nipple, only to let it out with a wet popping sound before his lips connect back to her body, and he licks his way down her stomach. He slots himself further between her thighs, and spreads little kisses along her pelvis, down to the apex of her thighs, leaving out her center on purpose and it’s fucking killing her. He’s such a tease. 

“Dean!” She’s louder, but she can’t help it. She’s dying here and he thinks it’s funny. 

“What?”

“Would you just—”

Dean licks his lips and grins at her before he thumbs along her center, parting her folds with both of his thumbs. He stares at her pussy and she feels a little uncomfortable. He lets out a low growl when he sees her glistening. She knows that she’s awfully wet. Has been since this fucking morning actually. 

“Tell me what you want,” Dean’s face is so close to her cunt, she can feel his breath hot against her center. 

“God, can you touch me there?”

“You’re too cute,” He chuckles but instead of teasing her some more, he gives in, licks a broad stripe up her center and seals his lips around the hood of her clit. 

Y/N fists her hands in the sheets, “Fuck,” 

“That’s the plan,” Dean mumbles against her slick folds, french kisses her cunt and groans when he feels her getting even wetter. 

They haven’t had that kind of sex before. It was passionate too, but mostly real quick and never horizontal. She can feel that Dean wants to take his time and that in turn, drives her fucking crazy. She also never had someone eating her out like Dean does. Her ex Kevin was okay with foreplay but he doesn’t really like it. He mostly licked her to get her wet enough to plunge his dick into her but that’s not the only point on Dean’s agenda. She can feel that he really, truly loves to eat her out, and he’s determined to make her come on his tongue. He doesn’t seem to mind if he would be down there for hours on end. It blows her mind. He is blowing her mind. 

Dean hums against her cunt, his scruff rubs against her thighs and she’s close because Dean sucks and his humming sends the right vibration against the nub of her clit. She pushes herself off the bed with her feet, driving her cunt deeper into Dean’s face and holds him steady with her hands in his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, hums along, licks and slurps up his own drool and her juice. God, it sounds so fucking obscene and it turns her on even more. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, oh god, don’t stop,” She moans out and Dean shakes his head, hums some more. He changes between nibbling and sucking and it feels so fucking good. 

“Oh god,” Here it comes, she feels her thighs cramp up, feels her insides trembling, her walls convulsing and she can’t help but push herself harder against his face. Dean’s hands are around her thighs, holding on for dear life as she locks her thighs around his face, caging him in, when she comes. 

She pants hard when the moment’s finally over, laughing loudly and Dean taps at her thighs, asking for her to release her grip around his head. 

When she releases him, Dean looks up from below, his nose and lips are shiny from her slick. He smacks his lips loudly, swallows hard, “Good?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” She says, clasps her hand over her face. She probably looks like she just ran a marathon. 

Dean places one more kiss on her clit before he pushes himself away and stands at the foot of the bed. With one swipe, he gets rid of his trunks and climbs back to bed, walks on his knees up to where she is. 

He strokes himself, jerks off his impressive dick and he bends down, kisses her hard. She can taste herself off his tongue.

“Fuck— I—,” Dean’s breathing hard.

She grins up at him, takes his dick in her hand and begins to stroke him up and down. She gets on her elbows, and sticks her tongue out to lick at his balls, sucking them in one by one while her fists are tight around his tip, stroking up and down. Dean spits on the head of his dick, helps slicking his cock up while she worries at his sac, “Fuck, your mouth feels amazing,”

He lowers himself a little when he notices that she wants to take him further into her mouth, his hands stroking along her legs and thighs. She takes him in, tongue licking up along his shaft before she seals her lips around his tip. Dean lets out a groan when she takes him deeper, his hand rubs circles on her clit before he toys at her entrance, slipping in one finger and then two. He moves faster inside of her, making her hum and sucking him off harder.

“Baby, as much as I would love you to suck me dry, fuck, I— your mouths feels too good,” Dean pulls his dick away from her, takes his wet fingers out from her cunt and flips her over with no problem at all. 

Dean helps her get rid of her bathrobe, throws it somewhere in the room, “On your elbows and knees,” He says, his voice is low and it sounds strained. 

Y/N can’t lie, she likes when he tells her what to do.

Propping herself on her elbows and knees, she waits. Dean’s one hand is jerking himself off while his other one kneads at the flesh of her ass. He spanks down on one of them, she’s sure that her skin turns red immediately. Leaving his hand there, he jiggles her ass, “Fucking beautiful,” He whispers and then he lowers himself, she can feel his face between her asscrack. Dean tongues at her clit, licks up her rim to her asshole and she moans out shamelessly. 

“Like that?” His voice is cocky.

“Y-yes,” She admits and Dean takes the cue to lick some more. God, she fucking loves it. Never felt anything like it before. 

“Fuck,” Dean curses, “You’re so tasty, but I really gotta—” He holds his cock out, threads the head through her slick and rubs it against her cunt, teasing her. 

“Dean, please!” She’s damn near exploding. She wants him inside right the fuck now. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—” Dean mumbles and pushes his tip into her waiting and slick cunt. He rests the tip there before he places his hands around her hips and pushes in, groaning louder the deeper he gets. 

“Oh fuck,” She bites down on her lip, lowers her forehead to the mattress, “You’re so fucking deep,”

“Jesus, you feel so good,” Dean groans, his hands kneads her ass, pulling them apart to watch his dick go in and out of hot and wet heat, “Looks so fucking great,” 

He goes slow, before he picks up speed and while it’s perfect, she can’t help but want even more. 

“Dean, please, harder,” Y/N’s body is filled with want, and she fucks back into him. 

“Christ, look at you, so fucking perfect,” He spreads her ass cheeks wider, “Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock, baby, take what you want, good girl,”

She shakes her ass while moving back and forth, and she can hear him chuckle before he spanks down on her ass. The pain is sharp, it soars through her body. Not going to lie, it is painful but it fucking turns her on.

“You like that? Like to be spanked?” 

“Fuck,” She’s glad he can’t see how she turns red, “Yes!”

Dean lets out a groan at her answer, spanks her twice more, for good measure, “Jesus,” He pants and then he starts to set a fast pace, fucking in to her with wild abandon. 

At one point, he leans forward, grabs her by her arms and pulls her up against his chest, his one hand yanking at her hair while his other hand goes down to rub at her clit. He never stops fucking her hard, like she wants him to. 

“Oh god,” She moans out upon feeling her second orgasm approaching.

Dean licks up the shell of her ear and whispers, “Come, baby, be a good girl, come for me,” 

And that, she does, comes hard around him, her cunt pushes him out and Dean has to let go of her and pushes her down on her elbow again to be able to slip inside once more. 

“Fuck, you’re still coming, so fucking tight,” He has to bite down on his bottom lip at the tight squeeze. It needed only a couple more thrusts for him to come deep inside her and he leans down, sinks his teeth into her back before he sucks and licks at the mark he left behind. 

His legs gave out and he collapsed on top of her, and he turned them around in his grip so that he was spooning her from behind. They’re still connected. Dean has his arms around her middle, kisses along the nape of her neck to her shoulder, “You’re something else,” 

“Am I?” She strokes along his forearm. 

“Yeah,” He breathes out a chuckle, “I came so hard I think I blacked out.”

They stay connected for a while longer until Dean slips out with a squelching sound. He carries her into the shower and she finds herself showering for the second time. 

He dries himself off before he goes out to get the robe for her and comes back holding it out for her to step into, “How about we don’t go out tonight? We can order room service.”

Y/N agrees because her legs are too wobbly to walk anywhere right now. 

They’re cozy in bed with her lying on her stomach on the other end from Dean who has the cover pulled to protect his modesty while typing away on his laptop. They’re both still naked and she’s well aware that Dean has a clear view of her cunt and ass, but she didn’t mind very much. It seems like the most natural thing to be when they are around each other. 

Finally she gets to send out the text to Ruby and there’s immediately a reply back.

 R: [picture]

R: Sam’s working right now.

 It’s a picture of Ruby’s face and Sam’s in the background, staring grumpily into the camera. 

She has to laugh which prompts Dean to look at her with one raised eyebrow. She looks back and holds out the phone to show him the picture, “Sam’s working.”

“As he should,” Dean says sternly and she turns back, her thumb hovers over her screen. 

Y/N starts to type a reply when Dean closes his laptop and gets out from under the covers to come crouching on top of her. He’s already half hard again, she can feel the tip of his dick brushing over her ass. 

“You want to send her a picture back?” 

She frowns, she’s actually never thought about it but now Dean makes her second guess it, “I don’t know,”

“Come on, do it,” He nuzzles his nose against her temple. 

“What?”

“I know you’re good friends and she always sends you pictures. So maybe if you really want, you can send one too, I’m okay with it.”

Tilting her head to her side, she meets his green eyes. He’s smiling, the crinkles deep around the corner. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” 

“I don’t know,” She is having doubts. It’s not like they have something going on like Sam and Ruby do. Their arrangement is purely business. 

“C’mon,” Dean takes her phone out of her hands, and holds it out to snap a picture, doesn’t even mind if they’re still naked.

His hands are longer than hers, it can snap up a picture from a wider angle. She sees herself on the screen, sees Dean behind her, his chin on her shoulder. Her hair covers her boobs.

Dean lowers his face, kisses and sucks at her shoulder while he looks up at the screen, the wrinkles on his forehead showing. She bites her lip because his warm tongue and sharp teeth feel great on her skin. He quickly snaps a couple of pictures. 

He gives her back her phone, urges her to send one out again when he nibbles and sucks at her throat. 

God, this man is doing things to her.

She quickly sends it out. Doesn’t even write anything else and abandons her phone because Dean turns her around, kisses her lazily soft. 

“Come on, we should get some sleep,” He whispers against her lips. 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t think I wanna wake up to a cranky you again tomorrow.” He chuckles lightly, and gets off the bed to pick her up before he pulls the cover away with one hand and lets her fall back into the bed with the other. He climbs in after her, spreads his arms for her to crawl in. 

He kisses her again, all soft and tender. It’s a contrast to how he just fucked her. She likes both sides of him. Likes how he can go all rough and demanding on her but shows her his softer side as well. And it’s easy, she thinks, they are comfortable around each other, at least as far as she can tell. She just wishes that the circumstances around whatever they have right now would have been different. 

CH16

[alwaysmychoices]

Contamination

Here is my Chapter 10 rewrite. I hope I did it justice.

Synopsis: When Charlie makes a chilling discovery about Senator Farrugia’s illness, lives are put at risk...

Chapter 16 of the “With and Without” series

Previous Series: “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 4.7k

Rating: T (language)

That morning, the sun was bright. The world was good, and Charlie was happy.

Ethan woke her with a kiss and an offer of coffee, but she refused and bought a steaming cup from the coffee shop a block from the hospital. Before her shift began, she cozied up in Kyra’s hospital room, and together, they laughed like they didn’t fear it would be the last time.

“So, what did you get up to last night?” Kyra asked, eyeing Charlie’s latte with envy, “And if you tell me you watched Netflix from your bed, you need a better life.”

“I actually didn’t go home last night,” Charlie admitted cheekily, and to her delight, Kyra reacted with scandalized enthusiasm.

“You’re kidding?” Kyra leaned closer, eager for every little detail, “You have to tell me everything.”

Charlie would have – even who it was with – but she didn’t get the opportunity. Her gossip stood no chance against Bryce’s authority.

“It’s time,” he announced, knocking on the door belatedly with a solemn stare. He was smiling, but it was more resolved than happy. He was ready for surgery, not goodbye.

Charlie promised herself not to cry, so she hid her flash of concern in the act of straightening her white coat. Her eyes were sad as she took Kyra in, but she refused to say a word. Kyra was ready, and Charlie didn’t feel right adding any crack in her armor. She loved her friend enough to take a deep breath, smile, and hug her good luck.

“Give me all the sordid details tonight,” Kyra demanded.

“Every single one,” Charlie affirmed, “Even the parts you don’t want to know.”

This made Kyra laugh, and that was enough for Charlie to feel compelled to keep her promise.

As Charlie walked out of the hospital room, she came to Bryce’s side, and in all seriousness, she said, “Take care of her, Lahela.”

“If I mess up, the only person that will hate me more than you would be me,” Bryce gave a single, concerned glance in Kyra’s direction. It was the only one he allowed himself for the day, and once it was over, he assumed his bravado by adding, “Besides, look at me. I don’t even know how to make a mistake.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, but she felt safer with Kyra in his care. She wished them both a bit of final good luck and a goodbye, and then she walked out.

And as she walked away, despite everything, she felt light – like everything would be okay, like this story had a happy ending.

It was the last time she would feel that way for a long time.

Charlie started her shift with rounds and scheduled her patients so that she could squeeze in time to check on Kyra’s surgery from the observation room. She wasn’t even thinking of Senator Farrugia when Danny approached her.

There wasn’t much to think about. After Charlie discovered his lead poisoning, her most difficult patient was finally off the agenda. Instead of bothering the diagnostics team with questions or observations, he stayed in his hospital room, making calls, taking interviews, and answering emails. He was so busy trying to monopolize the publicity that his difficulty manifested in his refusal to follow his treatment plan if it didn’t suit his schedule for the day. Listening to him work made Charlie’s stomach churn. Every day he stayed in Edenbrook was another day that he exposed a new, corrupt facet to his personality. More than once, Charlie and Ethan stood outside his door, wondering if stealing him from Mass Kenmore was worth it.

“Charlie?” Danny approached her, a test result in his hand, “I have the results from Senator Farrugia’s paint samples. You marked them as urgent.”

Charlie briefly abandoned her charts to accept the results, but when she read them, her face twisted with confusion.

“Are you sure these are the right results?” Charlie asked distractedly, reading the paper over and over again as if it would change the contents.

“I double-checked,” Danny affirmed, wearing a matching look of bewilderment, “They’re right… I don’t know how, but those paint samples tested negative.”

That wasn’t the answer Charlie wanted, but she trusted Danny too much to doubt him.

If it wasn’t the paint, what could be poisoning Senator Farrugia?

Charlie thanked Danny. With a heavy sigh, she collected her charts and walked to the diagnostic’s office for further research.

So much for her break…

Charlie didn’t know where to start, so when she logged on to the computer, she ran a general search for the senator. She flagged anything about trips or notable habits, looking for any clue of contamination. Most of this information had already been studied during their preliminary search, but at that time, they weren’t looking for lead. Even under the new lens, she was able to throw out most of the news stories.

The further she went, the less clear it became.

Senator Farrugia lived in a new, high-end condo in D.C. The area had no reported lead problem, and the building was too new for lead paint or lead pipes. She had already called up all of his regular haunts in the capital, and none had any helpful information. His life in Massachusetts was limited to his office, his home, and the farmer’s market he frequented for publicity. None were insightful.

She searched the internet until Farrugia’s name had the title Mayor preceding it.

 Charlie stumbled on a story from a decade earlier, when 3 died from lead pipes poisoning the water supply. She made a note to test his pipes in his home, and she clicked on the article for more information.

That was when she saw the photo of 13-year-old Jonathan Perry. The young boy was smiling for his school picture, all braces and excitement. He was the youngest victim of the lead poisoning, and there was something eerily similar about his pale skin and thin features. And the name…

Perry.

Like Travis.

On a hunch, Charlie googled Jonathan Perry. There wasn’t much to find – his old social media page, which was full of messages of condolences after his death, a news story about his middle school soccer team’s victory at state, and an obituary. She clicked on the sparse obituary. In lieu of flowers, the family requested donations for the local children’s hospital. They also used the same school photo as the newspaper article used.

Charlie skimmed the article, making an effort to remain doubtful.

But she knew.

She knew before she even read the last sentence.

“Jonathan Perry is survived by his parents – Deborah and Samuel Perry – and an older brother, Travis.”

Charlie’s blood ran cold, and she read the sentence again.

The second the thought – the horrible, terrible suspicion – crept in, Charlie jumped up and rushed to the senator’s room.

Charlie spent years reliving these moments. All in all, it was ten minutes at most, but they were replayed so many times that each second was accounted for. Charlie found every “what if” until they each tortured her.

What if she hadn’t rushed in? What if she had waited? What if she called Ethan and asked him what to do?

What if she just let Senator Farrugia die?

Would her friends still be alive?

Would she still be haunted?

But on that day, at that moment, she had none of those thoughts.

She just needed to get to Travis before something terrible happened.

Outside of Senator Farrugia’s hospital room, she found Bobby Gunderson, the security guard, talking with Raf about his upcoming move to Brazil. They were happy. They wouldn’t be once she spoke to them.

“Have you seen the senator’s assistant? Travis?” Charlie interrupted their conversation frantically. She looked between them both for a reply, though Bobby was really the only one who knew Travis. He had been assigned to Senator Farrugia off and on for the last week, and his dislike for the senator was matched by his disinterest in Travis. He never laughed at Bobby’s jokes, and Bobby took that as a sign of flawed character.

Bobby, understandably, was the one to answer Charlie. He looked startled by her, and she began to wonder if her anxiety was visible.

How could it not be?

She was on her way to confront an attempted murderer. She wasn’t prepared for this. She was terrified of being too late but also facing him at all.

“He’s inside with the senator,” Bobby replied, hoping that he would get an explanation in return. She didn’t immediately offer one.

“The weasel-looking guy? He was acting weird,” Raf chimed in, equally concerned by Charlie’s strange demeanor. He knew her well enough to know that he had never seen her like this.

He’s inside.

Charlie’s heart rate accelerated. The blissful morning turned sour, and every passing second felt more serious, the consequences direr. The stakes were higher now. Charlie felt young and inexperienced as she tried to do all the right things.

Nothing prepared her for this. She suspected a man of poisoning her patient. This was a man she had known for weeks, one that she had commiserated with over long nights working on Farrugia’s case. He seemed friendly and helpful. Now, he was dangerous. And he was on the other side of the door, potentially close to another murder attempt.

The moment she heard that Travis was inside, she started walking to the door. Panic clouded her vision until all she saw was Travis and the senator and that door. Turning to Bobby, she said, “Bobby, we need to call the police for a suspected poisoning and attempted murder of a public official.”

Bobby’s face dropped, and wordlessly, he joined her as they barreled for Senator Farrugia’s door. He radioed the call in immediately.

As Charlie twisted the handle, she didn’t notice Raf walk in with them. For a long time, she wondered if she would have stopped him if she would have noticed, but she likely wouldn’t have. And even if she had told him to stay away, he wouldn’t have listened.

The hospital room was calm and quiet, save for Ed Farrugia’s typing on his keyboard. Danny was at the end of the bed, perusing Ed’s chart and making notes in the top corner. Travis was closer to the senator, standing right next to Ed’s bed as he fished through a backpack Charlie had never seen before.

Once the door opened, Charlie’s anxious energy flooded the room, and all three looked to the group in surprise. Everyone was looking at them, but Travis’s eyes stayed on Charlie.

“Dr. Greene?” Danny asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“What’s going on?” Farrugia echoed, pausing his typing.

Charlie didn’t look to either of them because she never dropped Travis’s stare. She watched realization dawn on him, and his brown eyes filled with understanding. He almost seemed to revel in it, like he wanted to stop hiding. Like a curtain falling to reveal the light, cruelty was exposed, and it made Charlie shiver.

At that moment, she had no doubts about Travis.

She knew he was guilty, and she knew he was dangerous.

“Mr. Perry, we would like to speak to you. If you come with us, we can resolve this quickly,” Bobby’s voice was authoritative now. It was a little intimidating, even. Travis didn’t flinch.

“Dr. Greene, are you sure?” he was still looking at Charlie.

She felt disgusted by his attention. He made the question seem intimate, like they were in on some big secret. Never had her name sounded so vile.

“Officer Gunderson asked you to step away from the senator, Travis,” Charlie was firm and her gaze resolved. Travis’s face hardened.

“Why?” Ed asked incredulously. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, and he certainly didn’t like the tension in the room. He had a virtual interview in fifteen minutes, and he didn’t need the distraction.

Travis knew that he had been discovered, so with unreserved harshness, he turned to his long-time boss and answered, “Probably because I’ve been poisoning you.”

As angry as he looked, Travis seemed relieved with his admission. Ed gasped and instinctively jolted away from his aide as he mumbled a weak, “W… what?”

Bobby moved towards Travis just as Ed decided to get away from him. While the senator scrambled out of his bed and hurried towards the door, Bobby held out his hand, expecting to apprehend the young man as he said, “Alright, come with me…”

Travis didn’t even look at Bobby. All he saw was Farrugia running for the door.

In a wild panic, Travis reached inside of his bag to retrieve a black canister, and he brandished it as a weapon, pointing it to each and every person in the room as he demanded, “STOP!”

Everyone obeyed.

They had never seen a canister like that, but the way Travis held it commanded fear and trepidation. It appeared sinister, even from across the room.

Travis looked at them all but mainly Ed as he screamed, “Stand back! I mean it!”

Farrugia, who had almost escaped before Travis’s threat, took one cautious step in the direction of his aide. He didn’t come too close because he wanted the option to run. With his hands up in a pleading gesture, Farrugia urged Travis, “Travis… think about what you’re doing. Please…”

“Think about what I’m doing?” Travis repeated with disbelief, “What do you think I’ve been doing for all these years? From the moment we met, I’ve only been thinking of this.”

Travis waved the canister in Ed’s direction, eyes growing hard as his finger curled around the trigger.

“Travis!” Charlie interrupted, startling him just enough that his grip on the trigger lessened.

She couldn’t hear her thoughts for her heartbeat. She hardly remembered how to speak, let alone what to say. Her eyes kept drifting back to the canister, which was still dangerously aimed in her direction. She felt it watch her, like it was preparing for something horrid.

She felt everyone watch her.

And as Travis granted her his attention, the pressure prickled at her skin.

“This won’t bring your brother back,” Charlie said gently.

“You think I don’t know that?” Travis scoffed, “I will never get my brother back. I’ve lived with that since I was fifteen, and that knowledge destroyed my family. It destroyed my parents, and it destroyed me.”

His finger was back on the trigger, his hand shaking with the concentration needed to keep from pulling it. One slip and they would all find out what made Travis so confident in his weapon.

“Travis, let’s talk about this,” Charlie begged, refusing to look at the canister and instead looking for some sliver of humanity left in her opponent. If she could just find the right words, she could end this.

She could save everyone in this room.

She truly believed she could. Charlie believed in the world. She believed that tragedy and pain had an end. She believed that happy endings could be found if you worked hard enough.

She believed she would walk out of that room traumatized but otherwise unscathed.

She was wrong.

“No,” Travis refused, almost laughing at her, “There’s nothing to talk about. If I leave this room, I’m going to jail, which will be the end of it. And Dr. Greene, you don’t know the details of this story, but I’ll tell you how it ends. Ed Farrugia doesn’t survive.”

Travis surveyed the hospital room. He eyed Farrugia, who was just waiting to be out of his line of sight so he could run. Then, he looked to the four bystanders who had wandered into his plan.

“It’s unfortunate that four others will have to die as well,” Travis mused.

“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Charlie was shaking. Something was breaking inside of her. Maybe it was hope that they could leave this room, or perhaps it was faith in all that was good in the world. She begged for his humanity, but it felt too distant. “Please, you don’t want to hurt us. You don’t even know us. Travis, we have nothing to do with this. And you know you’ll regret it. Please.”

Travis offered a sympathetic shake of the head, “Charlie, you didn’t have to do this. You could have let him die. You know who he is. You know what he does. You know that his policies kill people. Don’t you see that you’re complicit? Not just in what I’m doing but in what he does!” Travis frowned in disgust, “You could have stayed quiet!”

“I couldn’t do that,” Charlie managed, fear gripping her so tight that even small words were shaky and uncontrolled.

She had lost control of herself. She had lost him, too.

Travis shrugged, “I hope your conscience is enough for you, then.”

Everyone knew they were in a final hour, that whatever was coming was so close that it breathed down their neck.

That was why Bobby stepped forward.

“Dr. Greene is right,” Bobby asserted, “Come with me before anyone gets hurt.”

And this was what Charlie lived a thousand times over – until she recounted the sound of Bobby’s step on the linoleum towards Travis and the inhale of Rafael to her side as he held his breath. It was never any less painful to experience the moment before it all unraveled. At best, it was numb. Today though, it was blisteringly agonizing.

Bobby reached for Travis, but his grip wasn’t strong enough. Travis pulled free, and without a thought or a word, he pulled the trigger on the canister. An aerosol gas released in a puff in Bobby’s face. There was a horrible, aching strangling sound as Bobby fell to his knees. He coughed violently, choking on the gas and his own breath. He gargled and thrashed in pain until he was on his back.

Charlie moved towards Bobby, but Danny made it there first. Instinctively, he pressed his fingers to Danny’s artery in his neck. An oily sheen covered Bobby and spread to Danny’s hands.

“Charlie, he’s going into cardiac arrest!” Danny yelled, already beginning the chest compressions.

They didn’t have time, and they didn’t have the equipment. Charlie belatedly realized that she was screaming into the hall for equipment, but she never finished the sentence. She was running to Bobby when she came face to face with Travis, who wielded the canister in her direction. She froze, the words dying on her lips.

“At least I’m not the only one with blood on my hands,” Travis sneered, and he began to pull the trigger.

In the split second before the gas was released, Charlie couldn’t move. There wasn’t time to run, not that she really thought to. Her vision was clouded with tears, but she could see the barrel pointed at her. And for it was worth, she accepted her fate.

She didn’t want to die, but she knew she would.

And for her last thought, she wished she had told Ethan that she loved him.

It wasn’t her last thought, though.

“Ahh!” Charlie cried as she was shoved to the side. She fell to the floor in an uncoordinated heap, and she looked up just in time to see Raf tackle Travis to the ground. They landed with a heavy thud, and Raf scrambled for the canister.

What followed was blind panic.

Gas filled the room as they fought for the canister. It spilled out of their grasp, and spinning in the middle of the room, it coated everyone but Charlie with a layer of oil. Charlie coughed as it infiltrated her lungs, burning and stabbing as it went.

Danny frantically tried to resuscitate Bobby as Raf fought to subdue Travis. Charlie, coughing through the mist, caught Farrugia sprint out of the room and heard Travis scream in response. The scream was guttural and garbled, and it was the worst noise she had ever heard.

Clambering to sit up, Charlie looked around the chaos and tried to find the place to help, but she couldn’t. She was startled still, watching as everything fell apart.

“What was that?” Raf demanded, slamming Travis against the wall.

“I don’t know!” Travis pulled free, only to vomit into the trashcan. Raf raged until he was consumed with a cough.

Danny’s efforts to save Bobby grew weak as both Bobby’s situation grew worse and Danny’s strength gave out. Danny pulled his hands away, examining them, and he breathlessly expressed his horror, “My… my hands are covered… I’m-I’m covered.”

Charlie shielded her eyes from the sight, tears streaming down her face as she hid from the terror and distress of her dear friend.

Her gaze landed on the door, and she knew what she had to do. Crawling on the linoleum, Charlie’s back was to the plight, but she felt it every second. It consumed her. It cemented her and demanded everything until she could give nothing. She couldn’t feel it now. She engrossed herself with her mission and shoved her trauma and her pain and her fear and her guilt out of her mind.

Charlie reached the door just as Ethan could be seen in the window. He walked towards the room with the innocence of a man who didn’t yet know that the world was ending.

Charlie wanted to run to him. She wanted him to save her.

But instead, she slammed the door closed.

Ethan’s confusion settled into surprise and concern, and with each step, he felt it mount. By the time he reached the door, he was terrified. He watched Charlie’s face – stained red from tears and eyes bloodshot. She shook, and he saw her ragged breath as she struggled against a burning cough.

And he pulled on the door handle, but she was holding it shut.

His Charlie.

His Charlie is not okay.

He pulled on the door harder, demanding to be let inside. He had no reasonable thought, only a visceral instinct to protect her and save her from whatever horrors were inside.

“What is going on?” Ethan pulled even harder, but she focused all of her strength in holding that damn door shut, “Let me in, Charlie!”

“Shut down the wing,” Charlie ignored the pain in his eyes. She ignored the way he stared. She ignored that he loved her, and she pretended she didn’t love him to spare herself.

If she opened the gates now, she didn’t know what would come out, and she didn’t know if she could do what needed to be done.

“Charlotte!” he jiggled the handle desperately, banging his hand on the wooden door like it might give way if he tried hard enough.

“Travis has tried to kill the senator with an unknown gas. We have no idea what it is, but Farrugia escaped,” Charlie felt empty as she tried to stay calm. Calm meant ignoring everything, yet she cried. She hesitated, and she almost cracked. She almost fell into the pit and lost herself in the sorrow as she said, “Bobby went into cardiac arrest after getting a blast of it to his face. Danny and Raf have been sprayed with it, and I breathed it in.”

Ethan stopped jiggling the handle, his hand slack.

He didn’t want to understand.

He wanted to break the fucking door down.

“We can’t risk it getting out of this room,” Charlie hadn’t lessened her grip on the door handle. She wasn’t sure if she could. She was bonded to her station. It was all she could do to maintain control.

It was all she could do to try and save someone.

Because the someone didn’t get to be her, or Bobby, or Danny, or Raf.

But it could be Ethan. It could be anyone on this hall.

She had blood on her hands, but it stained less if she could help someone else.

Ethan’s world slipped through his fingers, but he watched her instead. Everything – nor rather nothing… it was gone.

And he ached. He burned. He suffered.

He couldn’t remember kissing her in bed this morning and slipping her out of his apartment before his dad woke. He couldn’t remember making dinner with her or wandering Boston with Charlie on his arm and Jenner on a leash.

He only saw her now. Crying. Sick. And pushing him away.

“You’re right,” Ethan whispered breathlessly and helplessly.

He was broken, and she couldn’t look.

A sob was building in her chest – a body-wracking, heartbreaking, life-changing sob. She swallowed it and fought the air to keep breathing.

In the room, Danny and Travis were vomiting. Raf comforted Danny and glared at Travis. Bobby, perfectly still, was alone now.

Charlie found an air vent, and in it, she found her next distraction. With her back still turned to Ethan, she pointed to the vent and said, “Raf, I need your help to seal that!”

She opened every cupboard until she found plastic and tape, and Raf found a pair of scissors for her to cut it to size. Raf offered her a boost, and he lifted her up to tape it off. Once he let her down, she came face to face with him, and to her surprise, she wanted to scream at him.

She couldn’t believe how fucking irresponsible he had been! What the fuck did he think he was doing endangering himself like that? Why did he have to save her? Why?

But Danny was wheezing, and Charlie didn’t yell at Raf.

Charlie fell to Danny’s side as he leaned back against the hospital bed. His face was ashen white, and every breath was labored and pained. He tried to speak, but the effort was too hard. He only managed to say, “I… I don’t feel…” He paused, and his head fell back.

“It’s okay, Danny,” she whispered and took his pulse. It was weak and slow.

A lump formed in Charlie’s throat, and she squeezed Danny’s hand as she repeated, “It’s okay, Danny.” He weekly squeezed her back.

Charlie had to look away. When she eyed Bobby, she was on the edge of collapse. She felt everything and nothing, and one felt dangerously close to consuming her. Yet, hesitantly, she crawled in his direction.

Before she even touched him, she knew she wouldn’t find a pulse.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t heartbroken when it wasn’t there.

Raf followed her, and after a diligent attempt to find Bobby’s pulse, he grimaced.

They sat in silence, too many words to say to even begin speaking. The finality and grief were palpable.

They hadn’t saved Bobby, and they never would.

Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, holding her breath until the world might make sense again. It never did, and she exhaled in defeat.

Her limbs felt heavy, like a thousand atrocities now sat on them.

She was convinced that the world would never seem the same.

And she wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She couldn’t yet. Maybe not ever.

“Did you get much on you?” Raf asked finally, his eyes still on Bobby.

“Not much,” Charlie answered. She didn’t ask about Raf because she knew he was covered. He was relieved she didn’t mention it.

Charlie looked back to the window, where Ethan was on the phone. Behind him, she could see patients and employees evacuate, and she tentatively met his gaze. Face twisted with sorrow, Charlie nodded solemnly in Bobby’s direction.

Ethan understood, and it knocked the wind of out him.

Bobby was a good man. A colleague and a friend.

And he had been exposed to the same thing Charlie had.

His rookie. His Charlie. No.

Ethan pulled the phone away from his ear, and approaching the glass, he announced that the CDC was on their way.

“You’ll be okay, Charlie,” he promised, and trying not to panic, he affirmed, “All three of you. You’ll be alright.”

He said it because it had to be true.

It had to be.

He couldn’t lose Charlie, not like this. She couldn’t leave him when he’d just found her. This kind of thing doesn’t happen. And it doesn’t happen to her. It doesn’t!

And it won’t. And it won’t hurt her!

Anyone else but her.

He didn’t care if it was the senator. He was sad if it was a colleague. He was pained if it was a friend.

But it wasn’t her.

He didn’t know how to breathe. He didn’t know how to talk. He knew how to work, and he knew he needed to save her. That had to be enough.

His darling, wonderful Charlie.

He told her that she would be alright because it had to be true.

But Charlie didn’t believe him.

note: I probably should have spent more time working on this chapter, but it came out in one emotional sitting so I decided to share it.

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