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rcmclachlan · 1 month ago

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Joining the 8x16 spec fic party. MCD warning!

Red Over Red

Buck/Tommy

Summary: Ships not under command identify themselves by showing two all-around red lights, one above the other.

Read on AO3

It takes Tommy maybe two minutes tops to do a post-flight check. It's so routine at this point in his career that he could do it in his sleep if someone would let him, but ever since Nico accidentally trafficked elephant tusks to Sacramento two years ago, napping in the cockpit has been strictly forbidden.

He's just about to take a look at the alignment of the skids when he hears his name. He turns to see Dana coming over. The blankness to her expression isn't what gives him pause, because that's just her face, but the fact that she's jogging.

Tommy's worked with Dana for eight years now and she has never moved at anything but a deliberate, sedate glide, no matter the situation. He once saw her stroll through the collapsing hallway of a building that was being actively consumed by a five-alarm fire like she was taking a leisurely hike through the Cucamonga.

As she hauls ass across the tarmac, he sees Dana's normally perfect finger waves are completely disheveled, and that fills him with more dread than anything this job or Afghanistan could possibly throw at him. She has her phone in her hand.

The moment she comes to a stop in front of him, her expression shifts to something resembling mild distress, which means that either half of L.A. was just sucked into an open fault line, or—

For a second, he thinks the klaxons are going off, or someone set off the fire alarm in the main hangar, because there's a high-pitched ringing in his ears that is trying to worm its way down into his vagus nerve and make him puke. Everything goes fuzzy, then slowly the knob turns until clarity comes back. He's bent at the waist, hands gripping his thighs, and Dana's the only thing keeping him from toppling over. Dizziness has him in a half nelson.

"Head between your knees, Kinard," she instructs quietly. "That's it."

He thinks about standing in line at DJ's Smoke Shop & Market weeks ago, bouncing on his heels while waiting for the guy in front of him to finish picking his lottery tickets, and trying to remember his nonna's recipe for home fries. The bottle of Prosecco he'd grabbed on a whim had been burning a hole through the basket and was probably cooking the eggs he was going to drop $13 on, but he couldn't stop looking at it. All he wanted to do was pop the cork and pour it into a pair of flute glasses he'd probably have to locate and unpack. Which sounded like a lot of work when it would be so much easier to simply pour the champagne into Evan's mouth and drink it off his tongue.

He thinks about Evan looking him in the eye and declaring he didn't need to feel anything for the people he slept with.

He thinks about living in a world where Evan Buckley isn't.

"Say it," Tommy chokes out, clenching his jaw against the sour crackle deep in the bone. He's going to be sick. He's going to— "You have to say it."

Dana places a gentle hand on his back. "It wasn't him, Kinard. Not him. Buckley's fine."

Sinuses burning, Tommy drops his head back down and takes a shuddering breath, nodding. Not him. Not him.

The thought of Evan dying, of Evan being dead and gone and higher than even Tommy can fly, slips every time it tries to catch a foothold in his brain. He refuses to even entertain it. This is a man who's survived being crushed by a rig, a tsunami, a pulmonary embolism, a lightning strike, among other things, and is still hungry for anything the universe might throw at him. And despite its best efforts, the universe is never going to get Evan to flinch first.

Clearing his throat, he ducks away from Dana and wipes his cheek with his shoulder. Their flight suits are polyester, so the evidence of this will dry fast. She won't say a word to anyone else.

"Who was it?" It comes out like it's being dragged over broken glass and he coughs to try and clear out the clog. "Oh god, it wasn't—it wasn't Howie, was it? Hen?"

When Dana doesn't answer, he looks up to find she's just holding out her phone to him.

Edmundo Diaz 03:51

He watches the duration of the call tick on, then squints at Dana. "Why do you have Eddie's number?"

"Is that the question you want to ask right now?" she asks, like she didn't politely goad Eddie into nearly putting his fist through a wall the last time they were in the same room.

Off kilter and still a bit dizzy, Tommy straightens up and takes the phone.

"Eddie? Who was it?"

He takes a deep breath in and holds it.

Despite the AirOps hangar being at least three times its size, the 118 station has always been larger than life. When Gerrard was in charge, every day it felt like walking into the gaping maw of some primordial beast, swallowed whole to be slowly digested, burned away over the course of a shift, until it spat him out just so he could do it again the next day. That he kept going back says more about him than it does about Gerrard.

The slew of interim captains they were saddled with after Gerrard felt like intermission, like they were just waiting for the second act to start. From the moment he stepped out of the rig and slapped a twenty into the pot to bank on his own odds, Captain Nash was there to stay. And he tamed that hateful creature enough that Tommy was able to leave every shift completely intact.

Tommy stands on the sidewalk outside the bay and stares at the closed doors. When Tommy had been there, Bobby refused to close them.

"I don't like the look of a closed door. I don't like what it implies," Bobby had said when Tommy awkwardly asked about it. "I want everyone to know they're welcome here, day or night. I want them to know it's safe for them to be here. The doors stay open. Captain's orders."

Swallowing, he walks over to the regular entrance and lets himself in.

Normally you can hear the crew shouting and laughing from half a block away, and there are always people milling about, doing chores, fixing things, coming outside to shoot the shit with passersby. Tommy always loved the sound of it. He loved how tight-knit they all were, but also how willing they were to bring someone new into the fold. The handful of times he picked Evan up after his shift, Tommy would end up talking to at least four different people, which would always eat into their date nights. They had to cancel a reservation once, but it felt worth it just to be able to walk back to his truck with that warmth in his chest, with his cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much. Evan never complained. If anything, he was happy to stay there a little longer himself.

Now the bay is so silent that Tommy can hear the racing of his own heart. Anyone else would think the place had been deserted.

As he walks past the parked rigs, he spies a few people from B-shift. Ravi has Moore wrapped up in his arms and is resting his chin on top of her head. Hoang is wiping down a hose coupling with jerky, inefficient movements, breaking away to dab at her cheeks with the cloth.

Ravi looks up and his soft gaze sharpens the second it lands on Tommy. This must be what a deer feels like right before the truck hits.

After a moment, he gives him a nod, which makes Moore's head bob a little, then tilts his chin toward the administrative offices.

Shaky, Tommy nods in thanks and heads in that direction.

With every step, the world gets a little grayer, a little darker, and he feels a bit like the prince in Sleeping Beauty, hacking away at endless, twisting brambles that are doing everything they can to slow his momentum.

It feels like he's been fighting for a year without a single moment's rest by the time he makes it to the admin section. When he sees who's hanging outside the office with NASH on the door like a guard dog, texting on his phone, Tommy wishes he'd taken a moment to catch his breath.

He must make a noise or something, because Eddie jerks like he's been startled awake and claps eyes on Tommy. Pocketing his phone, Eddie peels away from the wall he'd been trying to sink into to offer his hand to Tommy like nothing's changed between them.

"Thanks for coming," Eddie says, quiet, almost choked. It sounds like he even means it. "I wasn't sure—"

Tommy can't bear to hear the rest of that, so he takes Eddie's hand in his own and pulls him in for a quick hug. "Of course I came. Of course. Don't thank me for—there was never..." He takes a breath, steps back, and tries again. "H-How are you holding up, man?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Eddie says with a damp chuckle. He drops his head and heaves a sigh that Tommy can feel in his own lungs. "I'm grateful I was already here. The way I feel and probably look right now? They'd never have let me on the plane."

Tommy doesn't remember how he navigated Sea-Tac after his dad died. He honestly can't believe Jet Blue let him board, either.

"Has anyone heard...?" He doesn't know how to finish the thought, but luckily Eddie's always been perceptive. He was always on Tommy's wavelength.

"Not yet. Athena ID'd the b—" Eddie bites off the sentence suddenly and swallows the rest of it down. Tommy can taste the rot in the word anyway. "She confirmed it was him."

Tommy closes his eyes and tries not to think about the unshakeable Athena Grant pulling the white sheet off the love of her life.

He clears his throat. "Where are... where are Hen and Howie?"

"Hen went with Athena," Eddie says. "She left hours ago, so who knows. Chim's... Chim couldn't stay. He couldn't... it's worse for him, you know? He's been here the longest."

The idea of the 118 without Bobby is almost too much to bear, but the 118 without Howie Han makes Tommy want to rip his own throat out.

"And... and where's..." Tommy clenches his jaw, then relaxes it deliberately. "Where is he, Eddie?"

Eddie answers by rapping a gentle fist against the wall he'd been standing against. Bobby's office.

"He's been in there for a while," Eddie murmurs, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Athena called him a while ago and he's been in there ever since. He won't come out. I tried to get him to eat something, but..."

Eddie shakes his head, then shrugs. His shoulders drop like someone cut his strings.

"And you think I...?" Tommy hates himself for even asking, because this isn't about him. He wishes he could grab the words out of the air and stuff them back down his throat, but they float away like clouds.

Thankfully, Eddie doesn't call him a selfish fuck. Instead, he musters up a little smile as he mockingly says, "I don't think, I know. So try to forget you're a fucking idiot and just get in there, would you?"

Huffing a laugh, because damn. Despite everything, including the low-grade jealousy that he can't seem to treat no matter how much he tries, he really missed this asshole.

Tommy reaches out to squeeze Eddie's shoulder, then he steps around him to get to the door.

It brings him up short. The door is closed. The bay doors are one thing, but Bobby's office door was never shut. It makes him a little nauseated just looking at the way it doesn't quite line up with the frame.

Through the window, he sees Evan, and his heart breaks at the way his body curves in on itself, hunched over Bobby's desk like an animal trying to hide a wound. A renaissance painter couldn't have captured such despair. Heartbreak of the Favored Son, oil on canvas.

Tommy has no idea what kind of reception is waiting for him on the other side of this door, but Eddie seems sure Tommy won't be turned away. He wouldn't have called Tommy if he thought it'd be for nothing.

"He needs you, man," Eddie had said on the phone.

He takes a deep breath in and holds it, and opens the door.

Almost immediately, Evan lifts his head, like he can tell who it is by the way the knob turns, and his expression is such a miserable mix of relief and devastation that Tommy doesn't stop to second guess himself. He doesn't need to. By the time he gets around the desk, Evan's already throwing himself into Tommy's arms.

"You're here," Evan sobs, clutching at him like he's afraid Tommy might disappear. There will be bruises everywhere he touches Tommy come morning. "Oh thank god, you're here. T-Tommy—"

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere," Tommy whispers frantically into his hair, tightening his arms. "I've got you. Evan, baby, I've got you."

A tiny voice in the back of his mind hisses at him to close the door so no one else can see this, but he ignores it in favor of holding Evan tight enough that their bodies might soon start to merge together.

There are only open doors here. Captain's orders.

#bucktommy #tevan #911 spec fic #911 spoilers #911 8x16 spoilers #(maybe!)#for the record i am team fakeout until the credits roll on the season finale #rc's 911 fics #rc's harbor ocs

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katsu28 · 4 months ago

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summer's golden haze - chapter five

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a day trip to ibiza, a nightclub, and max—who can't keep his mouth shut. (5.3k)

a/n: apologies for the lack of new chapters these past few months! writer’s block is such a bitch but i’m happy to say that i am back and working on this series as best i can <3

previous chapter | masterlist

Everything people say about time flying when you’re having fun has never been truer. You’ve developed a close friendship with Lando and his friends, and something even better with the boy himself.

You’d say you were surprised at how fast you’ve fallen for him, but you’d be lying. Sure, you haven’t known him long at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Lando Norris really was that missing thing in your life. He slots in like he was meant to, just as you hoped he would.

You’ve all found yourselves spending more time at their place than yours because it’s just nicer. Today is no different.

Lando’s chin sits hooked over your shoulder comfortably, stubble on his face a little scratchy, but it doesn’t annoy you. Especially not with the way the thumb of his hand on your waist is rubbing circles into the sliver of bare skin between your top and shorts.

He’s warm to the touch, but not unbearably so, more like a comforting warmth draped against you as he nuzzles closer.

He likes to be close to you, you've learned very quickly—more often than not always having some part of him touching you. Fingers intertwined with yours, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your waist. When you're sitting, it's a thigh pressed against yours, a warm palm blanketing your knee.

Right now, he’s decided on sharing the same sun lounger as you, wedged himself in behind you comfortably.

Normally, you might’ve been put off by the sheer amount of casual physical affection he shows, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. You want to be close to him all the time too, you’re just taking a little longer to warm up to instigating it.

“What’re you lot up to tomorrow?” He asks casually, walking his fingers down your arm.

“Mm, nothing probably. Might just do a beach day and chill out. Maybe take a little walk, I dunno.” You shrug. “You?”

“Flying to Ibiza for the day. My mate Martin’s doing a DJ thing at a club there, figured we’d go support a friend.”

You pout up at him, cooing. “You guys are so sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Come off it now.” He rolls his eyes, pinching your hip. You squirm at the ticklish feeling, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He perks up then, and you swear you can almost see the gears turning in his brain. “Would you guys wanna come with us? We could hit up the beach together, hit up Martin’s gig at night, then fly back here afterwards.”

“It’s a boys’ day trip, we wouldn’t want to crash it,” You insist, shaking your head. “We’ll see each other when you get back.”

“But I’ll miss you.” He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I think you’ll be fine.”

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, muffling his response. “No, I think I might die.”

It’s kind of sweet, you think, that Lando gets so pouty over not getting to see you for just a day. One might call him clingy, but you find it cute.

You attest it to the two of you still being in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, and it makes you happy, but something else gnaws at your stomach. You’re not even sure what it is.

Before you can say anything, he angles his head towards the rest of the group, covering your ears gently before shouting, “Oi! We’re all going to Ibiza tomorrow, it’s been settled already. We’ll swing round yours to pick you girls up, then head to the airport.”

He gets no objections from anyone, which you didn’t think he would, and it makes him beam.

You try to see it from his perspective. Sun, sand, beautiful views. The two of you get to spend the day together on the gorgeous beaches of Ibiza. If you put aside your worries, everything sounds wonderful.

So why do you have this nagging feeling this isn't going to go as smoothly as Lando says it will?

-------

It seems like you’ve just blinked and suddenly it’s the next morning and you’re heading into the hangar of a private airstrip.

The sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon, and honestly, you’re still half asleep. Most of your weight is leaned against Lando’s shoulder, who’s got a strong arm slung around your waist even as he chats away with his boys on the way in.

You haven’t packed much at all, just a bag with a nicer outfit you can change into before going to the club. Lando insisted on carrying it for you, so it sits looped over his other shoulder.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting when he’d brought up flying to Ibiza just for the day, but for some reason, the private jet your gaze lands on as soon as you enter the hangar has you a bit stunned for words. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings wakes you up even more as you ascend the stairs onto the jet.

A long sofa stretches across the wall opposite you, sleek white leather to match the cushy armchair you’ve settled into. Elegant polished dark wood tables separate the banks of chairs, and there’s a fully stocked bar at the back. Even the lighting of the cabin screams money, not those awful dim blue lights on commercial airlines.

This is the kind of thing you’ve only seen in movies, and now here you are about to enjoy a few hours on one with your very new, very rich boyfriend. It feels unreal, and honestly a little daunting.

Then in the back of your mind, you remember that this is probably just how his life is. Private jets and day trips to beautiful places, anything he wants anytime he wants it.

It’s one of two thoughts echoing through your head through the whole flight, the second one being that you don’t belong here. You don’t ride along in chartered jets, or go on impromptu day trips to beautiful islands. This is all completely uncharted territory for you and it makes your stomach twist, but you’re able to just pass it off as being a nervous flier.

Lando holds your hand, makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time, and that’s that. There’s no need to worry him about what’s running rampant through your mind.

Thankfully, you fall asleep not too long into the flight, and you don’t wake up until you’re on the ground in Ibiza. From there, it feels like a whirlwind has taken hold of you. You’re put into a car, driving, driving, driving god knows where.

Lando won’t tell you a thing, just kisses your cheek and tells you not to worry. And just when you think you’re at your destination, you’re squeezed into a golf cart that eventually drops you off at a seemingly private marina.

A large yacht sits before you, pristine white and polished to perfection. Lando beams, holding his arms out to the side like a game show host. “Ta-da! Look what we got for the day!”

You’re at a loss for words. When he’d agreed to a joint beach day, you thought you’d actually be going to…well, a beach.

“How the fuck did you manage to charter a yacht on such short notice?” Maren asks, clearly disbelieving.

Lando aims a look at her over his sunglasses, arching a brow. “What, like it’s hard?”

“Don’t do Elle Woods. You can’t pull it off,” Samira chimes in, to which Max nods his agreement.

“Everyone’s a critic nowadays,” Lando mutters under his breath, flipping both of them off. “Just get on the boat, dream killers!”

Your friends seem to be taking it in a much better stride than you are, because they go exploring the moment they climb right on alongside the rest of the boys, chattering excitedly. You, on the other hand, have to take a moment after Lando helps you on.

“So? What do you think?” He asks earnestly, rocking on the balls of his feet.

“It’s gorgeous,” You admit, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a yacht.”

“Yeah, I got it so we could have the day to ourselves. Dock somewhere remote, swim and have fun without anyone else around. I know how important privacy is to you, and I wanted you to be able to relax today.”

It hits you like a heavyweight right then. Lando did this for you.

Went through all these last minute hoops that probably cost a fortune just so you’d feel comfortable. It has to be the sweetest, albeit most outrageous, thing anyone’s ever done for you.

You close the distance between you in two steps, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The force of it makes him stumble back a little bit, but he’s quick to recover, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck with a smile you can feel pressed against your skin.

“That was one hell of a thank you,” He breathes. You shrug innocently and he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to have some fun?”

Turns out fun means putting an anchor down just off the shore of some small island not too far away. The day is starting to heat up a bit, perfect for you and the girls to stretch out on the cushioned benches and soak up the sun whilst the boys mess around in the water off the back of the boat.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, but you’re about ready to drift off when you feel something on your face. A drop of water hits you square in the forehead, another hits your cheek, and it makes you peek one eye open.

Lando stands right above you, beaming down at you as he drips water everywhere.

“Hi. Water’s nice,” He says, shaking his hair out not unlike a dog would shake out its fur. Droplets spray all over you with the action, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily.

You wipe the water off your face with an amused chuckle. “Yeah, I think I can tell. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You should come in.”

“Maybe later. My sunscreen might not be dry yet.”

“I think it’s plenty dry.”

You arch a brow at his insistence, suspicious of the mischievous smile curving his lips, the glint in his eyes. He’s got something in that mind of his, and you’re starting to grasp what it might be. You sit up, inching away from him as he creeps closer. “Stop it. Lando, no. Don’t even think about it!”

He flops on top of you gently, enough to make you roll your eyes but not enough to smother you. “Lovely place to have a lay, innit?” He says innocently, squinting down at you.

“It was,” You groan dramatically, wrinkling your nose at the puddle of water beginning to pool around you. “Now I’m being crushed.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, no, the words you're looking for are big and strong and handsome. Did I mention the word strong?”

“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“Careful, or I might start to think you have a praise kink,” You joke. Though judging by the immediate blush that blooms across his cheeks and ears, you might’ve just discovered something about your boyfriend. “Oh! You—I didn’t mean it like—”

His lips press against yours before you can finish your sentence as if to deter you from finishing your sentence, and you forget what you were saying in the first place. You’ve found that this is usually the case any time Lando kisses you, any and all previous thoughts disappearing without a trace only to be taken up by one singular thing—him.

“Get a room, you two!” Samira grumbles, bringing you back to reality. “Happy for you and all, but I’m trying to sleep over here.”

Right.

You’d forgotten you were laying right next to her. Evidently Lando has too, because he whines something unintelligible, face hot against your bare skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” You mumble, giving Lando a pat on the back to make him get off you. He does so, but not without a pout. The quick kiss you press to his shoulder when you pull yourself into an upright position is enough to settle him.

He tilts his head invitingly, eyes bright now. “Come swim?”

“Is the water nice?”

“It’d be nicer if you were in it.”

“I’m serious, Lando! Is it cold?”

“Guess you’ll just have to jump in and see.” He shrugs, winks at you playfully before ambling away.

You can’t help but admire Lando as he walks away from you, broad shoulders on full display, muscles shifting as he stretches his arms high over his head. Moles dot the expanse of his back, and it makes you want to trace your fingers along his tanned skin like you’re playing connect the dots.

You’re expecting him to head for the back of the boat, but he goes towards the ladder heading up to the roof of the boat.

“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You call after him, raising your hand to block the sun shining in your eyes.

“Jumping off the roof!”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s totally safe! I’ve done it before,” Lando reasons, waiting until he reaches the top of the ladder to offer you a smile. Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better about him taking a flying leap from that high. “Wanna give it a go?”

The words fuck and no teeter at the very tip of your tongue, but he’s grinning so big, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least a little bit intrigued.

Jumping off the roof of a yacht into crystal clear waters isn’t something you’ve ever thought you’d do, but then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you never thought you’d do on this trip.

“If I die, I’m haunting your ass forever,” You warn. Once you’re up the ladder on your own, you accept his outstretched hand onto the roof as he leads you carefully to the edge, fingers firmly tangled with yours.

“There’s no one I’d rather be haunted by.”

He leaps, taking you with him before you can even think of a response, and for a few moments, you feel weightless, falling through the air with nothing but Lando’s hand to ground you. It feels less terrifying and more freeing than you’d thought.

You squeeze your eyes shut just before you hit the water, keeping them closed as you sink deeper and deeper. Lando’s hand leaves yours, but you don’t panic. You let yourself float, reveling in the quiet of being underwater until you start to feel it in your chest, and only then do you push towards the surface in a flume of bubbles.

The breath of air you inhale once you get above water is refreshing, and you tip your chin towards the sky, taking in the warm sunlight with a sigh. You wipe away the water cascading down your face before paddling back towards the boat, where Lando is sitting with his legs hanging off the back of it, waving at you.

“What’d you think?” He asks earnestly once he’s pulled you out of the water to sit next to him.

“That was…exhilarating.”

“See, I told you it was fun! Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you the world.”

Somehow, you don’t doubt that. If you’re an example of playing it safe, Lando is the definition of full sending it, impulse and chaos behind a handsome face.

-------

The day flies by, and before you know it, it’s time to head back to shore. Thankfully, the yacht is well equipped with a shower in the bathroom, so you’re able to freshen up nicely when the time comes.

Lando lets out a low whistle when you emerge back out onto the deck, eyes dragging down your whole body, drinking in the sight of you with his lower lip tugged between his teeth. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, makes your cheeks flame hot.

“Damn, you’re hot, girl!” He grins, winking at you.

“Stop it,” You huff, adjusting the strap of your heel.

“What? It’s true! Can’t I pay my hot girlfriend a compliment?” He argues, looking absolutely giddy. “C’mon, give me a spin.” You roll your eyes but oblige, and he whistles again. “My god, I’m a lucky guy.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” You chuckle, letting yourself be tucked under his arm as you make your way to join the rest of your friends.

“If ridiculous means obsessed with you, then yes, I am ridiculous.”

The place is only a stone’s throw away from the public beach near the marina and already bouncing when you get there. You’re expecting to fold into the crowd of people, but Lando skirts around it, heading for the very front of the giant area, towards the DJ box.

Maren’s hand clamps around your arm, squeezing tightly. “That’s Martin fucking Garrix!” She hisses, jutting her chin towards the stage aggressively. “You didn’t tell us Lando’s friend Martin was Martin fucking Garrix!”

“He didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know?!” is all you can utter back in response.

You’re just as taken by surprise as she is. You’d have never expected Lando’s friend Martin to be Martin Garrix. It’s not a connection you would’ve made at all, but you keep forgetting Lando is actually famous. Of course he has famous friends.

Martin gestures for one of the other people there to take over the set, swapping out to come say hello as soon as he spots Lando. Both boys sport identical massive smiles.

“Mate, it is good to see you again,” He says earnestly, bringing Lando into a tight hug. “I’ve been meaning to make it out to a race! You look great out there, though.”

Lando shrugs, enthusiasm flickering a little at the mention of work, but only for a split second. “Could be doing better, but yeah, cheers!”

Martin’s eyes flick over to you and he must get the sense that you’re a little nervous, because his smile turns more polite. “See you’ve made some new friends. Nice to meet you all, I’m Martin.” Then he notices how Lando’s moved closer to be next to you and you’re sure he’s already got things figured out. “Enjoy the set! I’m sure Lando will take good care of you.”

A few drinks in your system helps relax the knot of nerves sitting on your chest a significant amount, enough so to where you’ve actually started to enjoy yourself.

Lando’s hands slide around your waist from behind to sit at your hips, chest pressed up against your back as his chin drops down to nestle in the crook of your neck. He moves with the beat and you find yourself following, guided by his firm grip.

It’s so easy to get lost in him. You want to let yourself get lost in him, let yourself sink back into him and let your inhibitions free. But you can’t.

Anyone can see you right now, seeing as you’re not exactly in a private place. You’re tucked off to the side, partially obscured by Martin’s booth and entourage, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take a good look and recognize Lando, even with the smoke and flashing lights.

It’s risky to stay like this, and you want to tell him that, but then his lips press against the skin of your shoulder tenderly and your brain nearly short circuits. Heat blooms where he kisses you, traveling up to your cheeks and down to your toes like you've just been standing too close to a flickering fire.

It isn’t until his nose nudges in right behind your ear, and his warm breath fans across your heated skin, that you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. The loud music dulls down into background noise to the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Taking a shuddering inhale, you wriggle free of Lando’s grip, mumbling something to him about needing air as best you can and taking off before he can figure out what’s happening.

You squeeze through the crowd rather forcefully, just needing to get somewhere without people, somewhere quiet where you can catch your breath and calm yourself down.

Somehow you find yourself back at the beach, throwing yourself down onto a bench and burying your face into your hands with a frustrated, strangled groan.

You don’t even know what’s wrong. Everything is good—you’re with your best friends, with Lando, and you’re supposed to be having fun. So why do you feel like you’re not supposed to be here?

The answer is a mystery even to you.

Watching the gentle waves lap over the shore proves rather soothing, a repetitive back and forth that helps ease your mind just the slightest bit. Only a few people mill around at this time of night, and they pay you no notice. You’re free to drown in your own thoughts without any of them being any the wiser.

Footsteps approach some time later. How long, you’re not exactly sure—wallowing in your own self pity feels timeless. The tips of a familiar pair of trainers step into your field of vision, and you make yourself let your gaze follow up to see the extremely concerned face of their owner.

Lando doesn’t say anything when you meet his eyes, just holds out his hand for you to take. When all you do is blink at him, then he speaks. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” He tilts his head over his shoulder, towards the beach behind him.

“I can’t walk on sand in these heels,” You sniff, scowling a little bit. It’s a shit excuse, you know that, but you don’t feel like being very cooperative right now.

“I’ll hold them,” He replies, toeing off his own shoes first. You give in almost too easily, slipping off yours to give to him and accepting his other hand up. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, tugging you closer to him as you step into the sand.

You walk along the shore for a while before either of you feel like saying anything, and it’s him who speaks first.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks gently. Rather than saying anything, you press your lips together. “C’mon, will you talk to me? Please?” His voice is so soft, so full of genuine concern for you it makes you start to feel bad. “I think it’ll make you feel better, instead of holding everything in.”

“All of this—the jet, the yacht, everything—it’s a lot to take in,” You admit quietly, staring hard at the sand in front of you. “And I know you did it for me, so I’d feel comfortable, and I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to these things. But I…this is all completely new for me. Like, I can’t help but feel like such an outsider.”

Lando’s expression crumples. “Oh. I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t my intention. To make you feel like you don’t belong.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“This sounds like the start of a romcom breakup scene,” He says, then he freezes, brows furrowing. “Wait, is this—”

“No! No, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just…saying things.”

“Okay.” He nods, looking thoughtful. “How can I fix this, how can I help with what you’re feeling?”

You smile at him, grateful that he’s asking even though there isn’t anything for him to do about how you’re feeling. Putting it out there is already starting to help, actually. You were scared about your thoughts and feelings being cast aside, but Lando hasn’t done that. He’s nothing but kind and caring about it. About you.

“I’m fine, Lando. Thank you though, you’re sweet,” You assure him, kissing his cheek. “Mind if we walk a little longer before going back to Martin’s set?”

“We don’t have to go back,” He suggests. “We can stay here, go somewhere else, anything you want.”

“I want to go back. It’ll be fun,” You say, nodding firmly. The action is meant to reassure yourself more so than Lando, but he’s the one who looks wary.

His head cocks to the side, brows furrowing in gentle caution. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

-------

The jet is quiet on the way back to Greece after Martin’s gig lets out, with good reason. It’s late at night, bordering on very early morning, and everyone’s asleep except you and Max, who’s on the phone with his girlfriend.

Judging by the way Lando immediately found his way into your space as soon as you all settled in for the flight and promptly conked out not five minutes later, he's exhausted.

You glance down at the boy currently snoozing away curled up with his head in your lap, one of your hands clutched between both of his. His chest rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones.

Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been as content with someone as you are now with Lando. Even though things between you are still new, you feel like you really can be yourself without judgement around him too. And that talk you’d had at the beach has definitely lifted the weight off your shoulders a good amount.

Still, there’s something else you have to get off your chest. You turn your gaze on the only other person you can talk to right now, the one person you do want to talk to.

Max ends his call shortly after with a quiet love you, see you soon, catching your eye with a sheepish smile as he sets the phone down on the table. “Pietra says hi. She’s looking forward to meeting you guys when she flies in.”

“We’re excited to meet her too, she sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, she is,” Max sighs. Then he squints at you, like he knows something is amiss. “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

You nod carefully, absentmindedly winding one of Lando’s springy curls around your finger. He exhales a little harder in his sleep when you let it bounce back into place but doesn’t wake up, just snuggles deeper into you. “It’s kind of a weird thing to bring up, but I feel like I have to ask.”

“Anything, go ahead. We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s actually reassuring to know that Max’s opinion on you hasn’t changed since you’d gotten together with his best friend. You’re still friends just the same. That thought helps you muster up the courage to say what’s been weighing on you.

“Are you okay with us? Lando and I, I mean.”

You aren’t seeking his approval or anything, you just want him to be okay with the two of you. Or maybe you are, you’re not really sure. Max is Lando’s best friend, his brother. Other than Lando’s family, who you can't even think about meeting one day without your stomach churning, he's the person who's known Lando best since they were kids.

All these people, they’re everything to him, and it's important for you to know where they stand.

Max smiles warmly, says your name in that same soft, gentle way Lando always does when you get unsure. “You’re exactly the kind of person Lando needs in his life. Someone away from everything he’s got going on, someone who genuinely cares for him the way you do. You’re perfect for each other, and I hope you know that.”

You swallow the lump rising in your throat, smiling at Max through eyes glossy with welled up tears. His blessing brings you comfort, even if you weren't looking for it. “Thank you.”

“No, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.”

Your brows furrow, head tilting curiously to the side as to what he means. “Me? What did I do?”

“I know Lando’s filled you in about what’s been going on, so you know that he’s had a bit of a rough time lately.” Max says softly, clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotional thickness in his tone. You can tell how much Max really loves and cares for Lando. “He’s not been himself for a while, so this summer break, this trip, it was something that might help him leave it all behind. Just relax and find himself again, ‘cause it wasn’t good for him, bottling it all up like he was.”

Your heart aches for Lando. You can’t help but want to protect him. It was true when you’d been just friends and only grown truer since.

“I wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but then we met you, and I swear to god I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages. He’s been so happy, so in love, it’s been—shit, I don’t even know what else I can say other than thank you. You’ve made my best mate himself again, and…I think I owe you everything for that.”

You know there are other parts of his sentence that you should be paying attention to—being the reason Lando feels like himself again, making him happy—but only one thing echoes at the very forefront of your brain. “He’s in love with me?”

Max’s eyes widen almost comically at the realization of what he’s just done. The juxtaposition of the heartfelt conversation you’ve had up until this point with the sudden exaggerated panic in his eyes would’ve cracked you up had you not been stunned by what he’d just let loose. “I really need to learn how to keep my fucking mouth shut.”

“Lando told you he was in love with me?” You press. You’d kick him under the table, but then you’d risk waking up the subject of your conversation. Max just blinks at you, probably trying to figure out a way out of this. “Max.”

“Fuck, fine! Yeah, he told me.” You raise an expectant brow for him to elaborate. “Jesus, did you want a timestamp? He said, I think I’m falling in love with her.”

“He thinks?”

“Well, I don’t know! I’m not a mind reader, am I?” He huffs. Upon seeing your brows furrow, he sighs. “But if I could read his mind, I’d say yes. I’ve known Lando…shit, I dunno, ten years now? And I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else before. You’re special to him.”

“He’s special to me too,” You say softly, stroking a thumb over Lando’s knuckles gently. It should feel strange how much you feel for this boy and how strong those feelings are, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It feels exactly right.

“I feel obligated to give you the usual ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you’ bit, but I know you won’t. You’ve been a great friend these last couple weeks, and I trust you with him. I trust that you’ll love him as much as he loves you. You do, don’t you?”

You sigh, chuckling softly. “Figured out that one easily too, haven’t you?”

“Please, I’ve known since the day you lot came round ours for the barbeque. And both of you are shit at hiding things, by the way. You’d be terrible spies.”

“Thanks, Max. Seriously.”

“For calling you a crappy liar? You’re welcome, I guess?” He’s only joking, but you know he knows what you mean. Max is a really good guy, a really good friend, both to you and to Lando. “And if he ever hurts you, loop me in. I’ll give him a proper beating for hurting my friend.”

“Oh, I will. Avoid the face though, I kinda like it.”

Max snorts, shaking his head playfully. “Yeah, he’s got a nice mug, that one. Real moneymaker.”

The moneymaker is drooling a little bit with his cheek smushed up against your leg, but you pay it no mind. He still looks good.

He’s actually starting to look like your whole world, all wrapped up into one perfectly flawed human being.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris series #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris imagine #summer's golden haze

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months ago

Text

That's How You Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k (lyrics included)

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer finds little ways to tell you how much he loves you.

Square Filled: Club for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: this is based on the song "That's How You Know" by Amy Adams from the film "Enchanted"

Well, does he leave a little note to tell you You are on his mind? Send you yellow flowers when the sky is gray? Hey

The worst thing about being sick is waking up sick. All you want to do is close your eyes and go back to sleep, but the ache in your face prevents you from focusing on anything but that. You groan and sit up in bed, seeing the other half empty. It’s nine in the morning. Spencer is already at work.

You trudge over to the window and slide open the curtains. Even the weather is doom and gloomy. Gray clouds cover the sky with the promise of a storm coming. It makes everything in the apartment look gray and lifeless. Still, you prefer this to sunshine. You walk to the kitchen where the medicine is, only thinking about numbing your face and going to bed.

You pause when you see the little present that Spencer left for you on the kitchen counter. Bright yellow flowers with a note next to it. Yellow flowers are your favorite. They brighten up every room they’re in. They’re a great way to add a little sunshine to your life.

You walk over to the flowers and smell them even though you can’t really smell anything. Your nose is too clogged up for this, but you enjoy the feel of the petals on your skin.

Baby,

I’ll be stopping by on my lunch break to check on you. I saw these flowers this morning and thought of you. I love you.

Spencer

It’s just like Spencer always to get the things that remind you of him. You have an entire drawer of shit he’s given you, and this note will go alongside the rest.

Well, does he take you out dancing Just so he can hold you close? Dedicate a song with words Meant just for you? Ooh

You just finished putting on the dress to go out dancing. It’s long and flowy, perfect for swaying to music. This is your first day off in weeks, and you really wanted to go out dancing. Spencer’s idea of a perfect night is to stay in and read, but here he is getting ready to go to the club with you.

“Are you sure you want to go with me? I can call the girls to go out with me instead. I know you hate the club.”

Spencer walks over to you and stands behind you in front of the mirror. He runs his hands down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“You like to go dancing so we’re going dancing. You look gorgeous, by the way.”

You can’t help but grin happily. The club is only a twenty-minute drive and there are already a lot of people here. Spencer splits from you to talk to the DJ who nods once he whispers what he wants. The song ends and the one Spencer requested turns on. It’s your song. The song you danced to privately at your wedding.

The song was never written for you, but when Spencer sings it softly in your ear, it makes you feel like he wrote those words just for you. He slides his hands down your body and sways to the music with you, everyone else disappears so it’s only you two on the dancefloor.

Because he'll wear your favorite color Just so he can match your eyes Plan a private picnic By the fire's glow Oh

“Spencer, where are we going? We’ve been walking for ages,” you giggle.

He made you wear a blindfold from the moment you stepped out of the house until now. You’re not sure where you are or what you’re doing, but you know you’ll be safe because you’re with Spencer. He would never do anything to put you in harm’s way. Still, you want to know the surprise.

“We’re almost there. Just a little more.” It feels like you’re walking on a hill. Your legs slightly burn from the uphill walk, but you know whatever he has planned, it’ll be worth it. “Okay, you can take off your blindfold.”

You rip the fabric from your eyes and gasp at the scene in front of you. Spencer loves date nights. He puts in a lot of effort when it’s his turn to take you out. There’s nothing this man won’t do for you, and he can get away with a lot of things with his FBI badge. He won’t ever use that badge for nefarious reasons but it helps when he wants certain parts of the park blocked off.

Sitting on top of the grassy hill is a picnic that overlooks the city. This spot has a perfect view of the sunset, and the sky has such pretty orange and pink colors. It’s like something out of a romance novel.

“Spencer, I love it,” you gasp.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

You twirl atop the hill and smile at your husband. The glow of the sinking sun reflects off his skin, making him look ethereal. You’re wearing a light purple dress and Spencer is dressed in a suit with a light purple jacket.

“You’re very handsome,” you smile.

It’s Spencer’s turn to blush. No matter how many compliments you give him, his face always reddens. It’s cute. He walks closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers and kisses you.

It’s a little chilly outside but being so close to him is enough to warm you up.

He'll find his own way to tell you With the little things he'll do That's how you know That's how you know he's your love That's how you know he loves you That's how you know it's true

It’s another gloomy day but the flowers Spencer got you are in small vases around the room to give it a bit more color. It’s seven in the morning but you woke up to go to the bathroom earlier. Now you’re lying in bed watching Spencer sleep next to you. He looks so peaceful. You reach out and lightly drag your finger down his cheek. His eyes flutter open and he smiles when he sees you.

“Good morning,” he says in his raspy morning voice.

“Good morning.”

He closes his eyes and moves closer to you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I love you.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff

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sungbites · 3 months ago

Text

RAVE SWEETHEARTS ━ park jisung

pairing : jisung x fem!reader. genre : fluff, very cliche, rave au ?? warnings : drinking/getting drunk, awkward ji, two idiots obsessed w eo synopsis : usually you would be aggravated about someone spilling their drink on you but you couldn't possibly be mad at him. wc : 3k a/n : EEEK im acc excited to post this bc this randomly came to me from a rave fitspo tiktok so i hope u guys enjoy ^^ as always likes n reblogs are appreciated :))

jisung was so uncomfortable. he was uncomfortable with his outfit, he was uncomfortable with the large crowd of people, and he was uncomfortable by the loud dj set that was currently playing.

“oh loosen up” chenle glanced his way, rolling his eyes. “dude it’s so hot” jisung complained, the sun shining directly on his shoulders make him even more uneasy. “you’re barely wearing anything, c'mon let’s get some drinks in you and maybe you’ll feel better” chenle grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of the overpriced bar. jisung groaned but reluctantly followed him.

he didn’t even want to be here, but since chenle bought two tickets for him and mark, who just couldn’t go anymore, jisung was the replacement. at first the idea of going to a rave in the height of california heat didn’t seem all that bad until the weekend got closer and he started regretting agreeing to the idea. when chenle showed him the outfit he picked out for him, the feeling of regret started growing.

they reached the bar, jisung stood close to the fan they had set up to cool himself down. “two vodka sprites please” chenle told the bartender, handing his credit card. “you couldn’t just get me water?” jisung side eyed him and chenle only laughed. “a little vodka never hurt anyone” chenle replied back, not realizing how unironically wrong that sounded given the situation. the bartender handed chenle the drinks and he turned to jisung, handing him the drink. jisung gave him a look and chenle held out the drink further towards him.

the two of them began walking back to the crowd, the terrible dj set was now over so it wasn’t as loud or overstimulating. “i promise when you let yourself go it’ll be a lot more fun” and jisung rolled his eyes, “yeah sure” he muttered, following chenle through the crowd. they stood not too far from the stage but not too close either, it was feeling a bit better. “i wouldn’t have invited you if i didn’t know you needed the break, just let go man” chenle said once more, the words finally getting through jisungs big head. “yeah you’re right” jisung said, making chenle smile. “see! i told you” he shouted over the set that just began, making jisung laugh. maybe this weekend will be fun.

jisung clearly spoke too soon because five minutes into the set, someone bumped into chenle which caused him to bump into jisung and resulted in him losing grip of his drink, dropping it all over the stranger that stood beside him. “i am so-“ the words couldn’t leave jisungs mouth when he turned to see you. “i..” he mumbled, watching as you wiped the remnants of the drink off your clothes. your hair fell so nicely on your shoulders, and your outfit complimented your aura so well. to put it simply, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. he was sure of it.

you wiped down the drink from your shirt and looked up at him, smiling softly. “i mean atleast your drink was cold!” you said, your voice was even sweeter than how you looked. he didn’t know what he was more attracted to, you or the way you brushed it off so easily. either way it drew him closer to you. jisung wanted to say something but the words were stuck in his throat, out of fear or maybe anxiety. it didn’t matter because you smiled at him one last time before turning to talk to your friend.

by then, chenle had already turned away from the person who bumped into him and tapped jisungs shoulder, breaking him out of his trance. he turned to look at chenle, ears red and face slightly flushed but the only thing chenle noticed was the empty cup on the ground next to jisungs feet. “oh come on! that drink was like 15 bucks jisung!” chenle groaned, breaking jisung out of his thoughts. “yeah.. sorry”’ he finally said, beating himself up internally because the words wouldn’t come out when he wanted to talk to you.

chenle handed him his drink, “here just finish mine,” jisung took the cup and downed it, either trying to ease his nerves or cool himself off. chenle looked at him and grinned, “finally you’re not uptight anymore” he laughed, making jisung look at him with a small smile “shut up” he muttered, focusing back on the dj set and being hyper aware that you were next to him, dancing with your friend.

he glanced out the corner of his eye to see that you and your friend were in fact gone, probably left some time around while he was talking to chenle. you walked behind ningning, following her through the crowd to a stand to grab some napkins. “ning it’s fine” you groaned, watching her wipe away the remainder of the drink from your skin. “still! it must be uncomfortable i mean that guy wasn’t even paying attention” she replied, wetting the napkin with her water bottle to wipe away any stickiness.

you thought back to his flustered expression and the way his cheeks were flushed. you smiled softly, he was a cutie. you didn’t think you’d bump into a cute guy here but here you were, thinking about a cute guy. if only you knew his name it would make actually talking to him easier. “oh please don’t tell me you’re thinking about him yn” she said, throwing away the napkin and turning back to you. “i mean.. he was easy on the eyes ning,” you said, smiling softly, making ningning laugh aloud.

“what if he’s one of those rave fuck boys then what?” the two of you started walking back towards the crowd, the music starting to get louder as you got closer. “doubt it, he looked so nervous” you smiled, thinking back on his expression. “you’re doing it again!” ningning said, lightly punching your arm, making you laugh. “whatever it's not like i’m gonna magically see him again” you sighed out, joining the crowd once more. “yeah but who knows, maybe he’ll find his way to you without spilling a drink” she smiled, making you smile as well, maybe she was right.

jisung was exhausted, around 3 dj sets had passed and they were currently on the last one for the night. finally, jisung thought. next to him, chenle danced with some girl who kept flirting with him, making jisung laugh to himself. he scanned the crowd, ever since you left out of nowhere he was ashamed to admit it but he tried looking for you for a bit. even if it was taking quick glances he was never successful, that is until now. he saw you not too far ahead of where he and chenle stood so he did the most rational thing, make his way over to you.

after a little bit of shoving and squeezing through sweaty bodies, jisung was a little bit closer to you, approximately one person apart. just before he was going to get closer, someone bumped into you, causing you to tumble back but jisung reached over grabbing your arm. the person between the two of you was now gone so it was only the two of you in this huge crowd. “hi..” jisung said, making you smile. he let go of your arm and stood up straighter, “hi” you said, smiling up at him.

“jisung, i’m sorry about.. you know. spilling my drink on you” he held his hand out for you to shake and you shook it, smiling. “yn, and it’s fine really” you let go of his hand, wiping away your sweaty palm on your shorts. “so do you talk to every girl you spill drinks on?” you looked to him, making his ears turn a shade of pink. “only the pretty ones” he said, now it was your turn to blush.

“i’m pretty?” you teased, still smiling. you were smiling so much that your cheeks started to hurt. “i mean.. yeah. you’re more than just pretty but it’s too embarrassing to say here” he admitted shyly, not being able to hold eye contact with you. you smiled as his eyes looked at the speakers or the dj instead of you. “you’re pretty too” you said, making him giggle and ears turn pink once more.

the two of you stood there, moving along to the music and enjoying each others company. jisung glanced at you a couple times, smiling. you caught him, looking his way and he quickly looked away, in embarrassment or fear. what a cutie. “so do you usually go to raves” you tilted your head, jisung shaking his head in response. “my friend had an extra ticket and the person he invited wasn’t going, so.. here i am” he smiled looking at how you nodded, taking in his worlds. so he wasn’t a rave fuckboy, perfect, you thought to yourself.

“what about you?” he looked to you, smiling. he swore his cheeks would be more sore than his legs when he wakes up tomorrow. “this is my 2nd rave, but my friend also sort of forced me to tag along” you replied, smiling as you remembered how ningning tried to bait you into going with her. “so we’re in the same boat then” jisung muttered, laughing softly. you smiled and laughed along with him. “i guess so”

if the people around you two were listening to the conversation, they would think that you and jisung had zero interest in one another. the truth was far from that, you two were so interested in one another that you were both equally nervous to talk to each other. being so close to each other made it even more intimidating for one another. your hands brushed together, fingers so close to interlocking but jisung pulled his hand away in fear, his cheeks as red as a rose in bloom.

“so-” “so-“ both of you said in unison, looking at each other then giggling. “go first” jisung said, his smile only growing. “uh are you doing anything after?” you looked up and tilted your head slightly, jisung thought it was cute when you did that. considering you did it twice it had to be a habit for you. “aside from heading back to the hotel, nothing at all” he replied, making you nod. “same with us, we’re staying in a hotel as well” he smiled at this, must mean you live somewhere close to wear he lives.

“so where are-“ in the midst of jisungs question your phone started ringing, you pulled it out to see ningning contact card. you looked up at jisung and he shook his head, “please take the call don’t worry about me i’ll just. um be standing here” he said, a little awkwardly making you gush. you answered the call and put it to your ear.

“what?” you said, jisung glancing your way. you look a little frustrated but anxious as well. you glanced around the crowd, spotting what seems to be your friend. jisung really only thought this because she kept waving at you. you hung up the phone and turned back to him. “i really have to get going.. are you gonna be here tomorrow?” you said, jisung nodding. “yeah we’re here till sunday.. so i guess ill see you tomorrow?”

the two of you looked at each other and jisung quickly fished his pocket for his phone, fumbling while opening it to the phone app. “let’s trade numbers, you know so it’s easier to find each other” he said with a light tremble in his voice, you smiled and the two of you traded phones, typing in your phone numbers. “i saved my contact, you know in case you forget” you said, handing his phone back and he only smiled. “i couldn’t forget” he mumbled, making you blush for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” you said, looking up at him and jisung nodded. “see you tomorrow” jisung smiled back, waving as you ran off to meet with your friend. now if he could just grow a pair and text you tonight it could play out perfectly for him.

after having to drag a very wasted chenle to the uber and to the hotel, jisung washed up, getting out of the bathroom to see chenle sprawled on the bed, clearly not following the rule they set to stay on one side of the bed. he sighed, drying his hair with the towel and sitting on his side of the bed, or what was left of it.

he looked down at his phone and his thoughts only drifted to you, you would’ve texted him by now if you wanted to talk to him. what if you dropped your phone in the bathtub? or worse someone stole it. maybe you were asleep? whatever it was jisung was overthinking and his head was starting to hurt because of it.

he laid down in bed, the only things that were heard in the room was chenles soft snores and the hum of the ac. once again, his mind just kept drifting to you. maybe he was too pushy? maybe you didn’t want to give your number to someone and he forced you to so that’s why you weren’t texting him yet. jisung looked at his phone and groaned once more, feeling fed up with all the thoughts in his head.

he unlocked his phone and went to his messages, starting a new chat with his contact. his thumbs played over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say. after five minutes of typing and retyping his text, he finally sent it, immediately flipping over his phone and turning to the other side so he wasn’t tempted to look.

jisung [11:37 pm]: hi :)

your phone buzzed in your hand and you looked up to see the text notification, immediately sitting up. “what?” ningning mumbled next to you and peered over, also immediately sitting up. “oh my god you got his number you sly girl!” ningning teased, slapping your arm playfully. you turned to her with your shocked expression and her smile dropped, slightly confused.

“what do i do?! i don’t even know what to say and i didnt think he would text me i mean i was hoping he would but i didn’t think he would you know!” you rambled, ningning trying to keep up. “okay calm down uhm.. just say hi back! what could go wrong” she smiled and you nodded, faking a smile. ningning was wrong everything could go wrong

what if he thought you were desperate for replying so quick, or maybe he was asleep and he wouldn’t see until the morning so it would just be weird. you stared back at the text, now overly anxious. usually you had no issue texting people but this was different, he was a guy but not just a guy he was a guy you wanted.

jisung was a cutie and you can admit that you were attracted to him so it meant something that he texted you first. you sighed, trying to push your nerves down and opened the text to begin texting him. your thumbs did a little dance over the keyboard, trying to think of something to say.

jisung picked up his phone again, the screen still open to the conversation and his eyes widened when he saw your typing bubbles. he waited very impatiently as the bubbles appeared and disappeared, finally uncovering the message you were typing.

yn [11:42 pm]: hi :) what’s up jisung [11:42 pm]: nothing just wanted to see what u were doing :D yn [11:43 pm]: ohh, i just got in bed lol. wbu?? jisung [11:43 pm]: i’m in bed too hahah jisung [11:43 pm]: there’s a full moon tn, not sure if u saw jisung [11:44 pm]: it’s pretty jisung [11:44 pm]: you know if ur interested in that stuff :) jisung [11:44 pm]: cool if ur not yk

you read the incoming texts jisung was sending and smiled, holing back a giggle since ningning was now fast asleep. you shifted in bed and got up to open the curtain, looking at the full moon up in the sky. he was right, it was really pretty. you smiled down at your phone and typed away.

yn [11:46 pm]: it is really pretty, thanks for telling me :))

jisung smiled down at your message, shifting his position in bed so now his back was facing chenle. he smiled as he typed his message to you, feeling his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.

jisung [11:46 pm]: yeah ofc, so are u gonna head to bed? yn [11:47 pm]: most likely, im exhausted :/ jisung [11:48 pm]: lol me too, my legs hurt yn [11:49 pm]: see u in the morning :) ??

jisung read this text over and over, smiling even bigger the more he read it. he felt like such a high schooler during this whole thing because he was fighting the urge to giggle and hug his pillow like a schoolgirl.

jisung [11:50 pm]: yeah totally, see u in the morning yn :) yn [11:51 pm]: night night !! jisung [11:51 pm]: night night <3

the second jisung sent that text he immediately regretted it, seeing the heart on his screen. he groaned, flipping his phone over and holding his head in his hands. he was so dumb, you were probably so weirded out now.

you smiled reading his text, giggling to yourself. your cheeks started to feel hot as you laid back down in bed, the text still echoing in your head. you picked up your phone from the nightstand and typed away, hitting send on the text you were typing. then flipping your phone over so you could head to bed.

yn [11:52 pm]: <33

jisung read the text and smiled bigger than he ever had, almost squealing. he liked the message and set his phone down, a smile still big on his face. he turned over to face the nightstand, getting ready to head to bed, his mind still plagued with you. for once, he was glad chenle forced him out to do something.

taglist : @kisseudoll @hyuckworld @lqfiles @hyuckworld @bywonyo @aerifim

dream taglist

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thischarmingmandalorian · 10 months ago

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I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Couple, Bar Chapter 1

Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.

Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader

Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.

While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."

You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.

Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern. And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.

On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.

The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting. Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set.

Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.

"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music.

You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.

Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."

"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.

After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.

"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."

There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?

"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"

"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.

You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"

Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."

"Oh…kay?"

Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'

You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round. Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right.

You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."

You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."

Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"

You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry. You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.

This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played. You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself. Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is?

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.

You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.

"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"

You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.

"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.

"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.

"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.

"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.

"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything.

And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper.

You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front.

You'll show him sexually frustrated.

Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach.

"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.

Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.

"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder.

"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet. He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.

I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend

Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass.

"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."

Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."

#joel miller smut #fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou smut #couple bar #neighbor!joel

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katyswrites · 3 months ago

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, fingering, dry humping, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 4

After your encounter backstage with Steve, you consider a few options.

Make a beeline for the roof of the building and try to jump off, hopefully to your untimely death. Or -

- return to the floor, watch the rest of the show, and act like everything is normal.

It takes you most of the walk back down the hallway to pick the second, admittedly more logical, option.

You make your way back to the crowd in the venue, shouldering your way through packed bodies and pulling the bottom of your shoes off the sticky floor until you manage to spot Nancy.

“You okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed with worry - you were gone far too long for a bathroom run.

“Yeah, just a long line,” you lie, your voice higher-pitched than you’d like it to be. If Nancy notices, she doesn’t say anything.

You just do your best to stare straight ahead, and pretend to be captivated by the band on stage. In truth, they’re only okay - but it doesn’t matter, because at least you don’t have to look at him up there.

It’s then that you only know one thing for certain - you’re going to have to spend the rest of the school year completely avoiding Steve. That, of course, is virtually impossible. Unless -

For a brief, fleeing moment, the thought of quitting the radio station crosses your mind. In general, it’s the only time you see him - the university’s campus is big enough that you rarely encounter him in any other context. Though, knowing your luck, somehow he’ll suddenly start popping up on your regular walk to class now, making himself known across campus at your inconvenience.

Still… quitting the station really brings the chances of seeing him again down to nearly zero.

No, you can’t - you’re not going to stop doing your favorite thing because of him. That’s how Steve wins - maybe that’s been his plan all along, actually. You wouldn’t put that past him. You want to smack yourself for even considering the possibility - you’re in charge of the place, and you’d screw over a lot of people if you quit in the middle of the semester.

You’re still thinking about Steve, despite doing everything in your power not to. You’re thinking about him as the last band leaves the stage, as you drive home with Nancy, and even later that night as you’re lying in bed, willing yourself to go to sleep.

As you stare at your ceiling, you try to rationalize what happened. Maybe it didn’t happen at all, and it was some strange dream. But, you think about the taste of him, his rough hands wandering along your soft skin, the way he sounded as he -

You sit up, groaning as your head falls into your hands. You’re so unbelievably fucked.

*****

That Thursday, you do something you’ve never done before - you call out of your radio show, for no real reason. Most DJ’s aren’t allowed to call out more than three times a semester. You’ve missed your show exactly twice before this in the last 3 years - once due to having a horrible fever, the other due to your grandfather’s funeral. So, when you call the station to say you’ll be missing your show (and Eddie picks up the phone, because of course he does), he’s surprised enough that you have to pretend you’re sick. You’re not sure he buys your performance, but he just says he’ll cross you out of the schedule, allowing you to keep up the charade.

Still, you can’t stay away forever. You do your best to focus on other things - schoolwork, friends, and not Steve. It doesn’t matter that you keep a keen eye out as you walk across campus, your heart speeding up as you spot another guy with his silhouette and a similar mop of hair walking ahead of you, only to feel relief when he turns around and reveals he’s not who you thought he was.

You still end up seeing him sooner than you’d hoped, though - you thought you’d avoid him until the following Thursday, when you inevitably had to come into the studio and do your radio show after skipping the last one. But no - instead, there’s a meeting at the station this Sunday, because of course there is. You had scheduled it, of course, but that was before what happened at the show.

You just try to put him out of your mind beforehand, instead focusing on the agenda and main talking points - after all, it’s your job. If there’s one thing you love, it’s planning things - down to the minute, if possible. Here’s the problem with station meetings, though - the board meets beforehand, just as a small group, to go over everything before the rest of the DJs arrive. This has always been a bit of an inconvenience for you, thanks to Steve’s exasperating presence - now, you need it about as much as a hole in the head.

That morning, you’re the first to arrive - that’s to be expected. You unlock the station door and head into your tiny, messy office, pulling out your notes to go over with the rest of the board when they arrive - if they arrive. Perhaps Steve’s poor attendance record would continue today, and you won’t have to deal with him at all. You sigh, spotting the CD box in the corner. Bands and artists mail in their music all the time, hoping to be put on-air in the ongoing new music rotation. DJs can even take CDs home to review them, list some favorite songs, and note the explicit tracks that can’t be played on-air. Then, it’s your job to sort all the CDs by genre and shelve them in the studio, so other students in the station can find them easily. But right now, the box is overflowing - you’d probably have to stay after the meeting to sort it out. You sigh again, bemoaning the less-than glamorous parts of your job.

You hear the station door open, signaling someone’s arrival. You tense, hearing the footsteps walking towards your office door. It’s enough to make you whirl around, only to relax when you see Darius posp his head in.

“Hey - anyone else here yet?”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shaking your head as you return to organizing your notes strewn across your desk.

“Um, no - I only just got here a few minutes ago.”

He nods, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Cool - hey, did I spot you at Fuze Box on Saturday?”

Even the mention of it makes your adrenaline spike.

“Oh - yeah. You did a great job - emceeing, that is -”

He laughs. “Thanks. I get paid exactly zero dollars, but they said I can have any of their old equipment that I want, since they just upgraded everything. Speaking of which, I think I can score a few new mics to replace the ones without going into the budget - I mean, I’ll talk about it at the meeting -”

“Yeah, sounds good -” you say absentmindedly, eyes widening as you see something on your desk that catches your eye. Darius is still chatting, but you’ve stopped listening.

“Talk about it in a bit -” you add quietly, trying to politely dismiss him. He gets the message and steps out, presumably heading to the lounge. You hear a few more people shuffling in outside your door. But, that’s not what interests you right now. Instead, it the note on your desk, written on the back of an old napkin.

Meet me in the vinyl library, after meeting. After they’re all gone.

It’s not signed, but you can now recognize the handwriting well enough. When did he leave this?

He must mean today, after the meeting… after they’re all gone. He knows you’ve been avoiding him… but you can’t avoid him here. You examine it for a moment, picking it up and flipping it in your hands. There’s nothing else written, no other information. You crumple it up, tossing it in the small garbage can beside your desk. Your mind is racing - what’s he up to now? You remember the conversation about the vinyl library at the party a few weeks ago, and you feel your face heat. There’s no way he actually wants to -

Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft knock on your door. You jump slightly, and clear your throat.

“Yeah?”

Eddie pokes his head in.

“Hey - everyone’s here.”

You nod, offering a small smile as you grab your notebook.

“Right - thanks,” you say quietly, following him out towards the station lounge.

Sure enough, the whole E-board is there - Darius, Eddie, Argyle, Chrissy Cunningham, Diego Hernandez, Lucas Sinclair… and, of course, Steve.

You cast a glance around the room as you enter, and offer a friendly smile, but decidedly ignore Steve.

“Hey, everyone - thanks for coming out on a Sunday… I hope nobody’s too hungover,” you say, glancing down at your notebook. There’s a sprinkle of laughs.

“Okay, so - you guys know the drill… when the rest of the station members get here, everyone can say their piece about anything important pertaining to their position… I just wanted us to meet first, in case anyone had something specific they wanted to bring up to me, or other members of the board before everyone arrives. Also, reminder that Nancy’s not here today because of her internship, but she gave me her notes…so, what’ve you guys got?”

It’s only at the end of your spiel that you look up, glancing around. Steve is staring right at you - the bastard.

Darius raises his hand - a relief. You call on him, and listen as he starts going on about the secondhand equipment he procured for the station from the Fuze Box. You stare right at him as he speaks, feeling Steve’s stare burning a hole through your head from across the room.

The next hour or so flies by - the larger group of student DJs arrive, and everyone makes announcements. Eddie mentions the new time slot for his training show, Lucas brings up how he needs to take over other people’s slots if they fall during the university’s sporting events for commentary, Chrissy talks a bit about fundraising for the station’s music festival in the spring - pretty typical fare for a station meeting. When you finally get to Steve, you’re forced to finally acknowledge him.

“Harrington,” you say, matter-of-fact. “Any updates?”

Steve just stares at you for a moment, perhaps a moment too long, and shakes his head.

“Nope - nothing from me.”

You sigh.

“Nothing from the Program Director, at all?”

It’s not fair to do this in front of everyone else, you know that, but you’re too tired of his shit to really care.

He rolls his eyes.

“Nope - I’m already doing my job perfectly - thanks, though.”

There’s a smattering of snickers and whispers throughout the room. You ignore it, holding his gaze as you cross your arms.

“Fine - glad you’re so sure of yourself, Harrington,” you say curtly.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, nobody really sure what to say. You don’t break eye contact with Steve, refusing to surrender. After somebody behind you awkwardly clears their throat, Steve finally relents.

“Fine - um - everyone cool it with the explicit tracks on the air, or the FCC wil be on our asses - I’m looking at you, Munson.”

There’s a cry of protest from Eddie’s side of the room, followed by a series of laughs, and the tense moment has passed.

Steve holds your gaze for a moment later, then you look away. After opening the floor to questions and concerns, the meeting is dismissed not long after, with most students scattering, and a few hanging back to mingle.

As always, a bit of a line forms to talk to you - station members with all kinds questions, like asking when the second mic in the studio will be fixed (probably never), if they can have their non-DJ friends on-air (they can’t), and an abundance of other questions that you have gone over a thousand times already this year. This is typical, and you get occupied enough that you almost completely forget about Steve and his antics. Nearly an hour after the meeting, the last few students filter out, leaving you alone at last. You still have most of the afternoon left, and know you need to get home to finish up some homework and run some errands. You head into your office just to put away the meeting notes, and sigh - the box of CDs is still haunting you in the corner.

It’s better left alone - a problem for another day. You stil give in, and crouch down to pick it up. As you turn to bring it to your desk, you see someone standing in the doorway. You yelp, and the box of CDs goes crashing to the floor.

“Jesus Christ -”

“Nope, just me,” Steve says, pulling himself off of where he’s leaning against the doorframe to help pick up the mess.

“Were you just standing there watching me?” you ask, stooping down again to join him in picking up the debris.

“No - I just didn’t want to make a noise and scare you -”

“Nice job with that” you mutter, placing stacks of CDs into the box.

“So, were you just planning to avoid me forever?” he asks casually, handing you some more albums.

“I’m not avoiding you” you say, refusing to meet his eyes. Even you know that you don’t sound that convincing.

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

You sigh, looking up at him.

“What do you want from me?”

“Did you get my note?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yeah - you’re like goddamn a carrier pigeon.”

He laughs, a real laugh, and it just pisses you off more.

“Fine? You want to talk? Then talk - I’m busy, I have places to be -”

“Why do you think I don’t?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably because our meeting ended an hour ago, and you’re still here, you stalker.”

“I’m the stalker?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolls his eyes, and takes a step closer. “Everywhere I turn, there you are, being a pain in my ass -”

“Oh, so you finally know how I feel!” you retort, crossing your arms. “Am I avoiding you, or always up your ass? Make up your mind, Harrington!”

“Why did you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“You know what -”

You feel your face heat, and shake your head.

“Let’s just pretend that never happened -”

“Why? You seemed to want it pretty bad -”

“Shut up -” you insist, avoiding his eyes.

“Be honest - what would’ve happened if Robin didn’t interrupt?” he asks, his voice lower, rougher. You just shake your head, refusing to look at him.

“C’mon, princess - you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen -”

“Oh, I most certainly can.”

“Well I can’t,” he says firmly, closing the little space there is between you two. “I’ve been thinking about it - about you - a lot -”

“Harrington, just stop it right there - I don’t like you, you don’t like me - we’re not friends -”

“I know,” he murmurs. “My friends don’t kiss me like you did.”

You hear your own breath hitch, and want to kick yourself.

“We aren’t -”

“I know we aren’t… anything,” he replies, his face close enough that you feel his breath. “You’re stubborn, a pain in my ass, and even a stuck-up bitch sometimes.”

“Hey -”

“But - I can’t get the way you sounded out of my head.”

He slowly extends his leg behind him, hitting the office door with his foot to slam it shut.

“Harrington -” you breathe, his nose brushing yours.

“You gonna push me away, princess?” he asks softly.

You’re barely finished shaking your head before his lips are crashing into yours. You don’t protest, don’t fight him. Instead, you kiss him back, demanding. He smiles against your lips, and groans when your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging on the chestnut locks.

“You’re right - I hate you -” you breathe.

“Shut up -” he grumbles, capturing your lips again.

He presses you against the desk, his hands on your waist.

You gasp as his tongue enters your mouth.

“I - I can’t -”

“Princess - shut the fuck up, for once, and just -”

He emits a deep, guttural groan, as you bring your thigh between his legs, finding a bulge there. The sound makes you feel warm and tingly.

“Fuck it -” he growls, lifting you up with less effort than you and anticipated, sitting you on your desk. You gasp, and his lips are on your neck.

“Tell me to stop” he whispers into your skin.

“No,” you breathe spreading your legs as he comes to stand between them.

“Thank God,” he sighs, his lips finding yours again.

“Harrington -” you whine, too turned on to care about your dignity right now.

“I know,” he whispers, his lips swollen, face flushed.

“I wanna touch you,” he murmurs, and it sends warmth right to your core. You nod, and he looks like a kid on Christmas, reaching down to unbutton your jeans.

You know you should stop - that you’ll regret this, that he’ll never let you live it down - but all you can think about is how good his lips taste.

He gets your pants shoved down only a bit, just enough that he can reach down and cup you through your panties. You moan, and he chuckles.

“That’s the sound I’ve been thinkin’ about.”

You smack his arm, and his lips find their way back to your neck. You throw your head back to give him better access.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he mumbles, feeling your panties. “This for me?”

“You - you wish,” you say weakly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds as you’re actively bucking into his hand.

“Can I -”

“Yes,” you breathe, exasperated.

He doesn’t need to hear it twice, pulling your underwear down to meet your jeans, neither even making it halfway down your thigh.

He tentatively runs is finger along your slit, and you whine, gripping his shoulders.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked -”

“Shut up -”

“Why?”

“I don’t need you - fuck - commenting on - just touch me -”

You bring your thigh up between his legs, and he grinds down, his arousal straining against his jeans evident. It spurs him to listen to you, and coat his fingers in your arousal. He moans, and you smile against his lips.

“What is it?” he asks, breathless.

“I finally figured out how to make you - oh, god - do what I tell you -”

“Never,” he insists, his finger circling your clit. You cry out, eyes fluttering shut.

You shouldn’t like this - but you do. You like how he groans and sighs against your mouth, how his nose presses into your cheek, like he wants to devour you. You like that he kisses you like he knows what he’s doing, that tells you he knows how a girl likes to be touched.

So you let him touch you - you let him toy with your clit, slip a finger inside, then two. You clench around him, moaning with every crook of his fingers, every motion of his thumb on your clit. It’s wrong - letting the boy you’ve sworn to hate finger you on your desk, where anyone can walk in. But, damnit, it turns you on, too.

He’s grinding his crotch against your thigh, desperate for friction, and you let him.

“Fuck - Harrington - m’gonna - I’m close to -”

“Christ - you can’t say shit like that to me -” he growls, his voice wrecked.

You just whimper, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for a messy, desperate kiss. It feels filthy, but you don’t want to stop.

When you cum, it’s sudden, your cunt clenching around his fingers. You moan into his neck, pulling on his hair as he continues his ministrations, working you through your orgasm. He thrusts against your thigh, grunts loudly, then stills.

For a few moments, neither of you speak - the only sound in the room is both of your labored breathing, his heart pounding against yours.

It takes only a few moments for the reality to set in. You pull back, letting go of him quickly, and clear your throat.

“Um - did you - do you need -”

“No,” he admits, a bit sheepish. It takes you a moment to realize, then you let out a laugh.

“What?”

“You came in your pants? What are you, 13?”

“Fuck off -”

You roll your eyes, and use your knee to nudge him away, shimmying your underwear and pants back up your hips quickly.

He stands back, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck.

“So - um -”

“I should go,” you say quickly, your post-orgasm bliss being overtaken with a distinct sense of embarrassment. In fact, you’re mortified.

You don’t look at him as you grab your bag, making a beeline for the door.

“Hey -” he starts, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t -” you cut him off, wanting to shrink into yourself - he’ll never let you live this down. Hell, you’ll never let yourself live it down. You stop in the doorway, and take in the sight of him - face flushed, hair mussed, and a notable dark spot forming in his jeans. You smirk when you see it, and look away quickly when he looks down, face going red.

“I - if you ever told anyone I -”

You scoff.

“Like I’d advertise this,” you say, voice laced with contempt. Before he can respond, you’re gone, slamming the door on your way out.

author's note: hi everyone! I know it's been forever... I took a much-needed break from Tumblr, and writing in general. But, I want to get back into it, because I miss it! Plus, seeing Djo back in action has really given me some inspiration for this fic in particular. I don't know when the next part will be posted, but it won't be crazy long again. I always appreciate likes, reblogs, and comments!

#put on your records fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #put on your records (and regret me)

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vanillawurld · 11 months ago

Text

༊*·˚ Wait For Your Love

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Angst, crying, alcohol, kissing, cussing, fluff at the end.

✧.* Summary - After not seeing each other for almost a year due to a breakup, a whirlwind of emotions flooded both Joost and (Y/N). The desperation to be with each other again took over for the both of them.

✧.* Extra- We can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande crying emoji heartbreak emoji.

✧.* Word Count - 1,998

The club was always packed with drunk assholes and beautiful women dancing. It was a place to have fun. Dance, drink, and not worry about tomorrow (unless someone had to work). (Y/N) and her friends decided to go clubbing to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Everyone wanted to get shit-faced drunk and some wanted to end up in a man or woman’s bed by the end of the night. (Y/N) couldn’t wait to get drunk and dance her ass off to the music that was playing. As soon as they get into the place, everyone was already ordering shots and mixed drinks.

Even though she wanted to get drunk, (Y/N) decided to get mixed drinks because she hated the bitter taste of hard liquor in tiny shot glasses. She decided to take her night a little slow to be more alive in the club. (Y/N) felt like she needed the time out with her friends. After a massive heart break 10 months ago, it felt like she couldn’t move from her home, especially her bed. Her friends would try to get her to hang out, but most of the time all she wanted to do was stay in bed and stalk her ex-boyfriend’s social media.

By the time she was on her second mixed drink, some of her friends were already on their 4th shot of the night. The music was starting to get to everyone and they all dragged each other to where everyone was dancing. The DJ was playing American 2000’s music so the whole club was dancing and/or grinding on one another. (Y/N) and her best friend were dancing and practically grinding on each other to the beat of the music while singing and laughing together. Everyone was having the best time.

That was until (Y/N) mysteriously smelled a familiar scent she hadn’t smelled in a while. His scent. She slowly stopped dancing and started looking around to see if she can catch him somewhere in the crowd. (Y/N)’s best friend looked at her, “Are you okay? What happened?”

(Y/N) didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night with the topic of her ex-boyfriend, “Im fine, girl. I just need to use the bathroom and then im gonna get a shot.” (Y/N) walked away but stopped when she felt someone grab her wrist. She turned around and saw her best friend holding her wrist.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked. (Y/N) simply shook her head and continued making her way to the restroom. (Y/N) thanked God when she saw there wasn’t a line to go to the bathroom. She immediately walked in and looked at herself in the mirror.

She let out a sigh and was trying to convince her brain to not freak out because she smelled his scent. She didn’t want to ruin everyones night, she just wanted to have fun with no worries. She quickly fixed her lip liner and lips and head out to the bar. When she got to the bar to order her drink, she had a feeling someone was watching her. She decided to ignore it because there were a lot of people in the club so it didn’t matter.

The feeling of being watched got stronger by the seconds and it bothered (Y/N). She looked around to catch whoever was staring at her and when she turned around, she locked eyes with him. Joost Klein, her ex-boyfriend. She felt her heart race and her stomach drop to the floor. He looked extremely handsome and beautiful. They stared at each other strongly until the bartender put (Y/N)’s drink on the table, making her break the contact and turn around.

Even though they stared at each other for a couple of seconds, it felt like an eternity for them. (Y/N) leaned forward towards the bar table and let out a deep sigh. She was trying to keep herself together. Tapping her foot against the floor, sighing, but all of that didn’t work because she felt her eyes start to water. She knew she couldn’t stay in that place much longer. She didn’t want to look like the weird bitch crying in the club. She quickly took her shot and sped out the doors, walking toward the empty side of the club wall. She started to hyperventilate before letting the tears spill. She covered her mouth to prevent making any sound, but everything was going crazy in her mind, she didn’t care who listened.

Beautiful moments between (Y/N) and Joost started flashing in her mind. (Y/N) truly loved Joost. She still loves him. She truly felt a connection with that man. He always took care of her and she returned the nurturing energy all the time. They never had a dull day together, it was always filled with happiness and laughter. Everyday was a blessing for them. Everyone, fans and friends, idolized their relationship, so when they broke up, everyone was filled with shock and confusion.

The day Joost left (Y/N) was the day she died. She didn’t want to go out anymore. She had no motivation to do the things she loved. Everything reminded her of Joost. Even when she went to the places her and Joost last visited together, she would always tear up a bit. The truth was, (Y/N) was waiting for Joost to come back. She was waiting for his love to find itself back to her. The more she waited, the worse she got. (Y/N) slowly started detaching herself from him 7 months after the break up and was slowly started bettering herself. But in that moment in the club, felt like all of her self improvement was tossed out the window.

While (Y/N) was in her head, she hadn’t notice a tall male figure walking towards her side. When she looked, it felt like her heart skipped a beat. There he was, staring at her with a yearning look with sadness in his eyes. (Y/N)’s tears started coming in more but she didn’t want to cry more in front of him so she looked away and looked up at the sky.

“Hey,” she heard Joost say. That didn’t make things better. Hearing his voice made her tear up even more. At that point, she didn’t care and let her tears flow.

“Hi,” she said back.

Joost stared at (Y/N) and started tearing up as well. He was finally looking at his girl again after almost a year of not being able to. Even with running mascara, puffy lips, red eyes, and a tired look on her face, she still looked pretty as ever to him. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of his teary eyes and got closer to her. “How are you?” was all he said.

“Uhm, i’m… doing good, I guess. What about you?” she asked.

“Im doing pretty well too. I just saw the most gorgeous girl at the club, but she walked out and now she’s crying,” he said. He wanted to lighten up the mood. While his body language gave off zero energy, deep down he wanted to hold (Y/N) and kiss her tears away. Joost missed (Y/N) more than anything and seeing her teary eyed made his heart ache.

(Y/N) let out a chuckle and went silent. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two until Joost broke the silence, “I’ve missed you.”

That made (Y/N) tear up even more. “Then why did you leave me,” She asked.

Joost stayed silent for a moment before answering, “Honestly, I don’t know why. At the time, my mental health was down the toilet and I thought you were the reason why. I thought leaving you was going to fix it.”

Hearing that made (Y/N)’s heart ache. “Did it?” she asked.

“No. It didn’t. It actually got worse. When I realized you weren’t the problem, I felt like it was too late for me. I thought you hated me and didn’t want to talk to me. I thought of that saying you told your friend once ‘You made your bed, so now lay in it’ and that’s exactly what I did. I punished myself for ruining something so beautiful,” he replied.

Deep down, (Y/N) was happy when she realized she wasn’t the problem. But at the same time, she was sad for Joost when he thought she was mad at him. “Can I tell you something?” she asked and he nodded, “I was never mad at you. You could never be mad at someone you truly love.”

Love.

She said love. Not loved. That made Joost smile.

“For a good few months, I was stuck in a delusion that you would come back. I wanted to reach out to you so badly, but my friends kept telling me to let you feel my absence and that that was the best thing to make someone realize their mistake,” she continued.

“They were right,” he spoke, “when I realized you were gone, I wanted to crawl back to your apartment and beg for your forgiveness. I had no one to text me ‘good morning’, ‘good night’, ‘i love you’, ‘i miss you,’ it was hell for me.”

Their confessions made both of them realize that they were still in love with each other. They never stopped. They followed through with the, ‘if it was meant to be, let it be,’ and it brought them back. They never gave up on each other, even when they were apart. That is the true beauty of love.

Joost grabbed (Y/N)’s chin, making her look up at him with her beautiful teary doe eyes. “baby, I am so sorry for breaking your heart. I regret it so much and seeing you makes my heart ache and happy at the same time. I would do anything to be with you again,” he said with a yearning voice.

All (Y/N) could do was look at him. Her eyes started to become more teary. “I love you. I never stopped loving you,” she replied. They both started getting closer and closer until their lips touched. It was electrifying for both of them. The more their lips were in contact, the more loving and passionate it became. (Y/N) wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss.

When they pulled away, they looked at each other in the eyes. Deepening the intimate moment. The moment was ruined when Joost’s phone rang. When Joost checked who it was, (Y/N) saw it was one of his friend’s. She frowned because she thought their moment was over, but instead, Joost ignored the call and pulled her close to him by the waist. He laid his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, wishing this was his forever moment.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Getting comfortable and feeling each other’s presence after months of not being able to. It all felt like a dream come true. Until reality hit (Y/N). She didn’t want to break away from the moment, but she kind of had no choice,

“Joost.”

“Hm?”

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

(Y/N) giggled, “I do. My friends are probably looking for me and I have to visit family tomorrow in the morning,” she said while pulling away from his embrace. Joost and frowned. He didn’t want her to go. (Y/N) kissed him on the cheek and started walking away.

Joost watched as she walked away before calling her name, “Can we… call tonight?” he said, referring to staying on facetime while they slept like they use to. (Y/N) nodded and blew him a kiss. Joost practically sprinted towards her and passionately kissed her, one last time for that night.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” She said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, handsome.” She said. He raised his pinky, indicating a pinky promise gesture. She raised her pinky and hooked it onto his. Settling the promise.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Guys was this good be honest also im too lazy to spell check

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost oneshot

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loveharlow · 10 months ago

Text

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [8.5k] A newfound diary, an emotional blast from the past, and a chaotic bonfire.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, fist fight/mild violence, jarah drama, sexual innuendoes,

NOW PLAYING‧₊

for the house scene^

for the bonfire scene^

A/N‧₊˚ i'm sooo hyped, ik this song strays from the theme a bit but i really wanted a sexy lil tune for the bonfire scene AND this chapter has TWO SONGS because it's two diff vibes at once

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“JJ, GET UP.” You groaned for the last time, shoving your sock-clad feet into your shoes, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Mmmm…I am up.” He whined into the pillow, very much still sleep. You scoffed, walking over and snatching the blanket off of the blonde — a wave of cool air hitting his shirtless body. He whined, flipping over onto his back as his eyes blinked open. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, for one, it’s eight fifty-five. School starts at nine and we have a fifteen minute drive to get there. And, two, John B and Pope already left without us because they didn’t want to wait for you which means I am now responsible for driving you, which makes us both late.” You explained, tossing the boy one of his shirts and a pair of socks.

“Mmph…fine.” He grumbled, sitting up and slipping the item over his head as he yawned. You kicked his shoes towards him as he slipped on his socks, walking out of the bedroom to find Marley on the couch. The dog perked up as her two favorite people exited the guest room.

“Hi, girl.” You cooed, crouching down as the animal threw herself off the couch and into your arms. “How you feelin’?” You asked, scratching behind her ears before looking up to find Kie in the kitchen, lingering silently. She paced, fiddling with her fingers while struggling to hesitantly meet your eyes.

“Hey.” She said simply, eyes on you and JJ. You both sent the girl half-smiles, lips pulled into thin, tight lines. “I thought everyone had left, I didn't know you two were...I, um, I fed her so, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.” She told you, shoving her hands in her back pockets nervously. “How are you? Or is that a…bad question to ask?”

You just shrugged one shoulder, swallowing awkwardly. “A lot better. Thanks for asking…” You replied genuinely. The room was filled with such a strong tension. By this point, everyone knew about the kiss between JJ and Kie. And everyone knew that everyone knew. The three of you stood around avoiding each other’s gazes, the only sound being the birds outside and Marley’s heavy panting. It didn’t feel right to be so hostile with Kie after everything that happened yesterday. And plus, you guessed you never got her side of everything. But even if the tension was no longer volatile, it was still awkward and suffocating.

“Well, we should get goin’...” JJ piped up.

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” Kiara waved off, tucking her hair behind her ear and grabbing her tote bag from the dining chair. “I’ll...see you guys later.”

“You aren’t going to school?” You asked, Kiara stopping with her hand on the door.

“No, I have some stuff to do. But I’ll catch up later.” She said, holding her hand up as a goodbye. “See ya.”

You both watched as she left — hearing her sneakers crunch oddly fast through the gravel before the sound faded out. You looked to JJ as his voice rang out. “Is it my place to say that you two need to talk it out?”

You grimaced before walking forward, out of the front door and towards your parked car as JJ followed. “I don’t know…” You dragged on, opening the driver’s side door as JJ got into the passenger seat. “It’s weird now. We’re together and she likes you…”

“Eh, I don’t think so.” JJ shrugged as you started the car, shooting him a confused look as you pulled out.

“What do you mean?” You asked. “She kissed you.”

“I mean, yeah, but it was like she didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to say anything last night because it didn’t feel right to bring it up.” He said, looking at you as you drove, admiring the way the morning sun illuminated your eyelashes. “She came to me last night in the Surf Shack and apologized, said she had her feelings mixed up. I guess she meant between me and Pope, maybe? I don’t know. But she made it clear that she doesn’t like me like that, at the very least. But apparently, she also broke things off with Pope so, I’m confused on what she meant. Either way, maybe you’re the person she needs to talk to.” He suggested cooly. “Just sayin’.”

“Hm.” You hummed in thought, eyes trained on the road as your eyebrows pinched. Maybe JJ had a point. But when Kie was ready to talk, she would.

YOU AND JJ ENTERED THE CLASSROOM JUST AS THE LATE BELL RANG, the teacher shooting you both a look of warning and motioning for you to take your seats. JJ sat in front of John B and you sat behind Pope — the four of you forming a perfect square. JJ shot the two boys looks of annoyance, the both of them holding up their hands in surrender.

You watched as Mrs.Ortiz, the geometry teacher, began passing out papers. Kids around you sighed and groaned, causing you and JJ to share a confused look. It wasn’t long before the teacher made her way to you all, setting a paper on John B’s desk. “Nice of you to join us.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Good to be back.” He smiled back at her, the expression quickly fading when he read the paper in front of him. His eyes went wide just as the woman placed a paper on your own desk — two pieces of paper stapled together, the first page of equations already giving you a migraine.

“A test?” John B asked Pope, appalled. The boy turned in his seat, pointing an accusatory finger at John B.

“I told you we had a test.” He reprimanded under his breath.

“No, you didn’t.”

“The first thing I said to you-”

“Was to wake up.”

“Because we had a test.”

“A test was never mentioned-”

“Psst. John B.” A random girl interrupted. John B turned to her curiously, quirking a brow as she passed him a piece of paper, the three of you looking weirdly at one another as he unfolded the note.

Bonfire C U There?

John B eyed the note with an unreadable expression, the three of you turning away from him slowly once Mrs.Ortiz began talking. “You all will have until the end of this period to turn in the quiz. No phones, no notes, and no calculators. Once you are done, you may-” She was cut off when the landline on her desk rang. “Excuse me a moment.” She dismissed herself, picking up the phone before exchanging a few words and hanging up, peering over the classroom full of students before her eyes landed on you. “Ms.Carter.” She called, your eyebrows raising in question.

“Yes?”

“They need you in the main office.” She said, looking sad and pitiful. She looked sorry for you. You didn’t know why.

Your face twisted in confusion as you looked at your three friends and got up, not even taking a full step forward before she spoke again. “You may want to take your things with you.” She grimaced, clasping her hands together. “And no need to worry about the quiz. I’ll exempt you for today.”

Her mercy had you questioning what exactly they needed you in the main office for…

Scooping up your backpack, you shot JJ a look before walking out of the classroom.

WALKING INTO THE MAIN OFFICE, you spotted a familiar face.

“Shoupe?” You asked, face twisting as the man turned to you — a nervous look plastered on his face as his hands clutched his utility belt. There was no one else in the office aside from the secretary and a teacher or two printing papers — the sounds of typing and phones ringing filling the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” You asked the officer, eyes darting around the room as you hiked your bag up higher on your shoulder, subconsciously holding it tighter against you. The older man took in his surroundings, taking note of the peering eyes of the secretary. He motioned towards the door you had just walked through before speaking.

“Let’s talk outside…”

You unknowingly clenched your jaw, nodding and following the man out the door. He waited for it to close, looking up and down the empty school halls before speaking. “I don’t mean to pop up on you like this. I’m just…tryna make this whole thing a little easier on ya.” He claimed, licking his lips before continuing. “I don’t know if you or your friends watch the news but…we have your mom in custody.”

You nodded, drawing your lips into a thin line but allowing the man to continue talking. “She had her bail hearin’ this mornin’. Since she attempted to flee from police upon arrest, the judge didn't grant her bail so, she won’t be out any time soon. Just wanted to let you know that.” He explained, his eyes full of pity and regret. "...She's been askin' to see you."

You couldn't control your facial contorting out of disgust. Or anger, you didn't know. "No." You said bluntly and firmly. "I don't want to see her."

Shoupe just nodded, raising his eyebrows briefly. "Yeah...I figured as much." He informed. "No one's forcin' you, kid. Just relayin' the message." He said. “...Also, the department will be closing off your house as a crime scene early tomorrow mornin’. I’m not supposed to be doing this but…if ya have anythin’ that you’d like to take with you — clothes, jewelry — I’d suggest you gon’ and get it today before it ends up in an evidence locker.”

“...Thank you, Shoupe.” You expressed your gratitude, surprised at his change of heart. Maybe he felt bad for everything — knowing now just how much could've been avoided had he just listened to you and your friends to begin with.

“...’s the least I could do.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes for a brief moment. “But there is one more thing, kid.”

“What is it?” You asked, a moment of silence passing as a janitor walked by whistling with his earbuds in — the pair of you allowing him to pass anyway before continuing the conversation.

“...Since you are still a minor and have no current legal guardian that's not...imprisoned or deceased, you are now considered a Ward of the State. And unless you find someone to claim legal guardianship over you, there’s nothin’ I can do to stop DCS from payin’ you a visit.”

“Oh.” You said simply, lips stuck in a pursed position. You didn't think about that part...

“Yeah…” The man sighed.

“...Should I warn John B, too? Since Ward was his legal guardian?”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Shoupe dismissed, waving you off. “With Ward’s…passing, guardianship had been transferred to Rose as she was Ward’s spouse. But we both know that Routledge has been on his own for a long time.”

“So…what should I do?” You asked.

“That’s up to you, kid.” Shoupe shrugged helplessly. “Just find someone to take ya in. And soon.”

“HEY! WAIT UP!” YOU CALLED OUT AS YOU SPOTTED YOUR THREE MALE FRIENDS OUTSIDE IN THE COURTYARD. First period had ended by the time you’d gotten done talking with Shoupe, kids gathered outside before the bell rang for second.

You caught up to your friends in seconds, Pope and JJ separating to make space for you to walk with them.

“Glad to see you’re back.” John B threw out. “What’d you do? Steal test answers?”

“You’re hilarious but I don’t cheat.” You sassed, squinting at him. “I can do a simple math problem, I know that’s a foreign thing to you-”

“I was just askin’ because us three who didn’t receive a ‘get out of geometry free pass’ were kind of dying in there.”

“Speak for yourself.” Pope threw out, smiling smugly. “Finished that quiz in ten minutes. That’s gotta be a world record.”

“Yeah,” JJ added sarcastically. “For geeks, maybe.”

Popee flipped off the blonde as you and John B laughed, walking up the concrete steps. “But seriously, what’d they need you for?” JJ asked, looking down at you and throwing an arm over your shoulder.

You didn't miss the way John B and Pope shot each other smirks and low high-fived.

You sighed but smiled smally at the contact and slight PDA. “Long story short — my mom was denied bail so she's in jail for good, they’re taping my house off as a crime scene tomorrow and I have until tonight to get my stuff, and I am now a state-certified orphan and will be snatched up by DCS soon unless someone comes to claim me.”

“Sounds like someone needs a Routledge-level crash course in ‘Dodging DCS 101’.” John B smiled, holding the straps of his backpack.

“Or I just need someone to sign some papers and say they’re willing to take care of me.” Suddenly, all eyes glued themselves to Pope, the boy immediately shaking his head.

“Nuh-uh.” He declined. “You know I would if I could and my parents would love to help you. But that’s a lot of paperwork and they need other things, like proof of income showing that they can support another child. And Heyward’s has been a little slow since the whole boat thing with Topper…”

You all hummed in agreement, understanding his point. “Don’t sweat it, Pope.” You assured, nudging his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out. Hey," You switched your attention to JJ, voice lowering as the other two guys now held their own conversation. "I'm probably gonna leave school a bit early to go my house. Just so I have enough time."

"You want me to come with?" The blonde asked.

"If you don't mind..." You said, nervously — not wanting to be a burden. "You don't have to. I just don't think going alone-"

"I want to." He reassured, pecking your cheek.

“Ahh....” A chipper voice chimed in, the four of you facing forward to find Mr.Sunn standing against the school exit door that was wide open. “Mr.Routledge, Mr.Maybank, Mr.Heyward, and Ms.Carter — just the students I wanted to see.” He smiled, guiding you each one by one into the school building.

“Wish I could say the same.” JJ replied as Mr.Sunn walked in behind you four — guiding you to his classroom and ignoring your boyfriend’s sassiness.

“I have a question of historical nature for you…” The teacher explained, walking into a storage closet within his classroom. “I digitize documents for the Maritime Museum, and in return, I have been given access to the archives.” He went on, searching up and down the shelves before pulling out a box. “And I found…this.”

“A box.” Pope deadpanned.

“More than a box.” Mr.Sunn smiled, placing the container down on his desk, the four of you crowding around as he opened it, revealing what looked like a worn, brown journal wrapped in plastic. “Go ahead, Mr. Heyward.” The instructor encouraged as Pope picked up the item. “Careful with that.”

You all watched as Pope unwrapped the item from its packaging, fiddling with the fabric knot that held the book closed.

“It’s a diary.” Mr. Sunn explained. “The author’s unknown.” You all watched as Pope undid the knot, pages and pages of writing revealing themselves. It was written in cursive, some pages partially or completely torn out. But you felt the tension in the room rise when Pope let the pages fall to the very first one — a wheat symbol sketched onto it.

The four of you shot each other looks as Mr.Sunn placed a paper on the desk. “This…is a sample of the Denmark Tanny letter.” He smirked, looking up at the group of you. “Compare the handwriting.” John B was quick to pick up the paper, holding it up next to Pope’s hand that held the diary open.

Peering over the two boys shoulders, you could see the two artifacts side by side — the handwriting was distinct. But the similarity was undeniable. It was obvious that the two documents were written by the same person, down to the curves and flicks of the pen.

“No way…”

“It’s nearly identical.”

“...This is Denmark Tanny’s diary.” Pope said in a hushed tone, eyes never leaving the papers. His fingers trailed the worn pages of the journal, flipping the page to find a drawing — a captain standing by as the figures in the background pushed ships into the water, a larger ship looming in the back. “Guys, this is Captain Limbrey.” Pope pointed out, tip of his index finger on the man with the hat atop his head, standing proudly. “...August sixth, eighteen twenty-nine.” He read aloud, sitting down on the nearest desk top.

“That’s the year the Royal Merchant went down.” John B informed, eyebrows downturned in pity.

“I thought you all might find it interesting.” The teacher spoke up.

“Thank you so much for this.” Pope whispered, still looking through the journal.

Mr.Sunn sat on the desk beside your friend, leaning in to speak. “It’s important to know your own history.” He told him, you all looking at him with wide eyes before he got up and walked to the back of the classroom once more, leaving the four of you to your thoughts.

“...Oh my God.” Pope sighed, his eyebrows pinching together. “This is the Cross of Santo Domingo.” He said, the three of you sharing a look and walking over, crowding around behind him. It was a picture of some of the crew members carrying a large cross. “It was on The Royal Merchant.”

THE ENGINE OF YOUR FORD BRONCO DIED AS YOU TURNED THE VEHICLE OFF, looking up at the house you hadn't seen in over a month. To anyone else, it probably looked like a nice, normal home.

To you it looked haunted, forever shrouded in a cloud of darkness and gloom that would never go away.

"You want me to come in?" JJ asked, you only just now noticing him looking at you. You lowered your gaze to him, nodding as a response. He gave you a small smile before exiting the passenger seat and rounding the vehicle as you unbuckled your seatbelt to open your door and offer you a hand out of the car.

He shut your door after you climbed out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as you walked the path up to the front door. To your surprise, it was already cracked ajar, only having to give the wood a push for it to creak open.

The lights were off, the only light coming from the open windows. The wood screeched beneath you and JJ's feet as you walked further inside, the blonde allowing your hand to slip slowly from his own as your eyes scanned everything.

You spotted a suitcase at the bottom of the steps — laid out in the floor, flipped open. Clothes, shoes, and stray dollar bills scattered around the abandoned trunk.

Was that what Shoupe meant when he said she attempted to run?

It looked like the caught her before she even made it out of the front door...

It was as if the place had been raided. The coffee table in the living room was lopsided and off center, the couch cushions looked like they'd been thrown back into place.

The patio door was open, and the kitchen told a different story —alcohol bottles scattered on the counter like centerpieces. The smell of liquor even lingered mildly in the air.

You didn't say a word as you edged towards the staircase, stepping over the fallen luggage and making your way up the stairs. Photo frames decorating the companionway upon the walls swung, hanging from a single screw.

You'd seen how many officers came the day Ward died. Just how many ran through your house? Or what remained of it...

Reaching the top of the stairs, even more clothes littered the floor. There was even a sizeable hole in the wall...

You took a deep breath, shaking off your nerves before walking further down the hall and pushing open the door to your room.

Surprisingly, it looked untouched —almost exactly how you remember leaving it.

Your bed was unmade, the blinds were open, even your midsummer's dress was still hung on the back of your closet door. Remembering that night put a smile on your face.

Everything was messed up...but not this messed up. John B didn't know that his girlfriend's dad had killed his and yours. Pope didn't have any personal connection to the gold that made him a target. Kiara was still living with her parents and you were still friends. You and JJ had just gotten out of jail and seen each other for the first time all day.

Looking back, maybe your friends were right. How could you not see it all this time? Remembering the way he froze seeing you in your dress, you paid no mind to it then. But now, it was like reliving the moment in your mind. He looked in awe. He looked in love. He looked like he had never seen you a day in his life. And when he smiled at you...

You would never forget that night.

Walking over to the item, your fingers brushed against the smooth material — a small, sad smile spreading across your cheeks.

"You should take it." JJ startled you, turning around to see him in the doorframe. You hadn't heard him come up the stairs.

"I don't have any use for it, now." You said mournfully. "It's not like I'll be going to another one..." You reflected, opening your closet all the way and grabbing the biggest duffel bag you owned, pulling tops and jackets off the hangers and throwing them in.

In your peripheral, you could see your boyfriend remove the dress from it's hanger — folding it and placing it in the duffel bag. "That may be true but you'll need a dress for all the five-star restaurants we visit when we go full Kook." He joked lightly, winking at you, the action putting a loving smile on your face. "Here, let me help." He offered, stepping next to you and grabbing your bottoms and shoes, putting them in the duffel bag as well.

To your surprise, the bag fit almost everything you planned on taking. You'd probably need another backpack but the closet was almost entirely empty when you spotted a box in the corner. You scrunched your eyebrows, crouching and reaching for the cardboard box in the corner, dragging it out.

There was something written in sharpie on the side — Dad's Stuff.

Your hand hovered over the box, forgetting you had it back there all this time. You didn't even remember what was inside. Looking up at JJ who was already staring down at you, the blonde gave you a silent supportive nod, encouraging you to open it.

Turning back, you carefully opened the top flaps — your eyes immediately spotting your dad's tattered and worn 'OBX' hoodie that you'd taken from his closet after he died. You wore it for weeks after his death — so much so that your perfume still lingered on it, mixed in with fading smell of his cologne that you somehow still remembered the distinct smell of.

You carefully lifted the item of clothing, brushing your thumbs against the rough fabric. The letters were fading and there were small lint-beads around the sleeves but that didn't diminish it's value. You handed the object to JJ, silently asking him to put it in the bag. The boy understood quickly, taking the hoodie from your hands as you fished around deeper in the box.

There wasn't much. What took up the most space was the hoodie considering it's thickness. All that remained was a scrapbook and an old family camera.

You picked up the book first — it was a father's day gift that you'd made him some years ago. 'To The BEST Dad in The World' scribbled in your third grade handwriting on the front. The book was thin, made from construction paper and glitter.

Flipping it open, it was filled with pictures of you and your dad — on several of your birthday's, pictures of you both blowing out the candles because you refused to do it without him. One of his guitar picks was glued to a page, surrounded by a heart of glitter with a small sentence at the bottom — 'I stole this from you because it's my favorite and I don't want to lose it.'

You let the pads of your fingers trace the pages, eyes scanning over the small art project once more before closing it and setting it to the side with one hand, using the other to pick up the camera.

You fiddled with the object in your palms, eyes widening when, to your surprise, it came on as you held the power button. You vividly remembering your dad taking the camera almost everywhere you went — on family picnics, small road trips, birthday parties. He didn't use it as much when you got older.

You pressed the playback button, the last video he ever recorded popping up with the play button. You didn't hesitate, pressing play on the video as the terrible audio quality filled the silence of your room.

"Well, it's doomsday, people. Y/N has her very first pimple." His voice made your heart skip a beat. You hadn't realized until now that you hadn't heard it almost year.

"Dad, stop!" A fourteen-year old you whined, palming the lens of the camera. "It's ugly and huge..."

"You should let your old man pop it-"

"Ew, gross! No way..." You chuckled. Your voice was so much higher, you didn't even recognize it. "And please, stop recording. This is not funny."

"Okay, okay…" he said, turning the camera around to face himself. "Well, bossy pants says no more recording, so we're cutting it short today." He faked a frown before smiling mischievously and turning the camera back around to you for a quick second. You were hunched over the sink looking in the mirror when you saw the camera and ducked out of the way.

"Dad!" You whined. "Seriously!"

"Okay! Okay..." He laughed, the video ending abruptly. You immediately pressed the back arrow, skimming through photo after photo before coming across another video — a much older one.

"Alright, I think it's on. So, to whoever is watching this, my baby girl just learned her first guitar chord and beat her own record, all in one day. Tell them how deep you dove today, sweetheart." He prompted, spinning the camera to what looked like a ten-year old you sitting on your front porch — hair still slightly damp and wild.

"Thirty feet!" You cheered, voice even higher in this recording. You had his guitar in your lap.

"That's right!" Your father applauded from behind the camera, walking around to stand in front of you and get a good view. "She's a little natural. But now we're on to our lessons before she leaves me for her friends. Tell the people what chords you learned."

Your small frame was perched on the front steps, sun beaming on you. "E-minor, A-minor, and...uh...E."

"Good job!" He smiled, voice dropping to a whisper only the camera could hear. "She picked out the chords herself, I had no say." The statement made you laugh a bit, wiping away a stray tear as you continued to watch the video. "Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

You watched as little you positioned the instrument under your arms and your fingers in between the frets before strumming. It was gappy and you hesitated in between switching chords but the video made you smile nonetheless.

Once you were done, you looked up at the camera with a smile. "How was that?"

"That was beautiful, angel." Your dad said softly behind the device, walking closer to you and turning it around so it now recorded the both of you. "This is me and my little pufferfish-slash-popstar and we're signing off. Wave goodbye, Y/N."

"Byeee!" You cheesed and waved wildly, your dad doing this same as the video cut — stuck on the last frame showcasing both of your bright smiles.

You stared at it, silently crying. You let your tears fall, sniffing periodically when you felt a hand ease it's way onto your back. Turning swiftly and dropping the camera into your duffel bag, you turned and pushed your face into JJ's chest, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly.

You could feel his body tense and his hands freeze — he didn't know what to say or how to properly comfort you. Or if was he meant to comfort you as a friend or a lover.

He pondered for a moment before returning the tight embrace, kissing the top of your head before laying his on top of your own. He swayed lightly with you in his arms, allowing you to cry quietly into his shirt.

"Why did all of this have to happen?" You mumbled into his shirt. "Why are our lives the ones that had to fall apart?"

The blonde didn't have an answer for you, so he just chose to hold you instead — comforting you until you were ready and didn't need the need the comfort anymore.

He wasn't sure if he was meant to comfort you as a friend or as a lover — so he settled on comforting you as a person.

And he held you as long as you needed until you were all cried out, the two of you taking your bags of clothes, the scrapbook, the camera, the hoodie, and most importantly — your dad's guitar out of the house you hoped to never see again.

“GUYS, THIS IS FROM DENMARK’S DIARY.” Pope said. You were back at The Chateau, feeling a lot better now, and he hadn’t put the book down since he got it. You were surprised he hadn’t finished it by now. You’d seen the boy finish larger books in a matter of hours. “...‘August fifteenth, set sail from Port-au-Prince on calm seas.’” He read aloud, the sun beaming behind him. “...’Came up on the Spanish ship San Jose on fire. The entire deck was aflame. We could hear the screams of men trapped below.’” You cringed at the words, not being able to imagine the agony.

“‘The Spanish Captain cared about only one thing, his valuable cargo — The Cross of Santo Domingo and countless bars of gold. Once the cargo was on board, went to help the crew, but Captain Limbrey ordered us to pull bayonets and not to let any of the Spanish crew on board.” He paused, eyes softening before continuing to read. “...’He robbed them and left them to die.’”

Pope concluded, closing the journal and letting it fall on the table before taking a seat in the empty chair next to John B.

“So, it didn’t go down off Bermuda.” JJ offered, fiddling with a lighter as he laid outstretched between your legs, his head against your thighs as you laid against the arm of the patio sofa.

“And it was a Limbrey stealing shit again.” Kiara added.

“This diary proves that both the gold and the cross of Santo Domingo were on the Royal Merchant.” Pope put together, leaning his arms on his thighs.

“Why didn’t we find the cross in the well, then?” JJ asked, his blonde hair getting blown into his face by the wind, you brushing it gently out of his vision as he continued explaining his thought process. “I mean, if Denmark was able to get this, like, bedazzled cross off of the Merchant to the shore, why didn’t he just hide it with the gold?”

“...Because it was too big.” John B realized.

“You’re right.” Pope nodded, eyeing his two friends and nodding as his brained pieced the puzzle together. “He had to hide it someplace else…”

“But where?” You thought aloud.

“...Right before he was hung, Denmark said he buried the treasure at the foot of the angel.” Pope said.

“Wait,” JJ paused. “I thought this was about the key?” He pondered. “What’s the connection here?”

Pope sighed, pulling the aforementioned key from his pocket — the one he found in his grandma’s parlor. “The path to the tomb begins in the island room…” He said, reading the secret message revealed by the key, trying to mentally search for clues.

“But what is the island room?” Kiara groaned, throwing her head back.

“Y’know what helps me figure shit out?” JJ threw out, tossing the lighter onto the outdoor table, eyes focused on Pope. “Smokin’ beers and drinkin’ weed.” He said proudly, your face twisting in confusion. “The ideas just start to pour out of me. If we just sit here and try to figure this out, we’re gonna get nowhere.” He said seriously, sitting up to look at his friends more directly. “But if we get creative and go to this bonfire tonight? Maybe we get somewhere.”

“I think you just want an excuse to go to a bonfire.” You added, a smug look on your face as he turned to look at you, his hair messed up from laying in your lap.

“Shh…” He quieted with a finger to your lips, your eyes fleeting between the digit and his eyes. “You just haven’t mastered the technique to greatness yet. This is a plan of master intelligence. Drunk minds lead to sober finds, baby.”

You scoffed, lightly brushing his fingers from your lips as Kie spoke.

“Well, I just got disowned by my parents…and I’m an official member of the I-have-nothing-to-lose club.” She smiled, throwing her hands out.

“Pope?” JJ turned to the boy, a question on his lips. You all could see the denial brewing in his eyes, JJ catching it before any words left Pope’s lips. “Look — think about how much you could think if you just gave your brain a rest.”

He seemed to sit on the thought, looking at each of you individually before caving in. “...Okay, fine.”

“That’s a yes, folks. We’re headed out!” JJ exclaimed, jumping up from his place as the other three did the same, heading towards the van. You were getting up on your own before the blonde’s hand went under your arms, lifting you into his embrace. Your arms wound around his neck as he carried you happily. “First couple bonfire, baby!” He smiled, looking into your eyes. “You gotta do keg stand with me.”

THE BONFIRE — AN OUTER BANKS TRADITION. It’s the same weekend every year. Everyone goes. Literally everyone. After finding a fortune, and losing it, a little fun around a fire couldn’t hurt, right?

The party was in full swing by the time you’d all arrived, the entire party recognizing your small group by the sight of The Twinkie. JJ helped you out of the van, your ears immediately attacked by the loud cheering, endless chatter, and raging music.

The only real light was the huge bonfire in the center of the party — the flames lit in a small pit of the abandoned skatepark that happened to be this years secret location. Kiara and Pope went off on their own almost as soon as they left the van — the two getting into a small dispute on the way over. Pope believed that if Kie listened to her parents instead of arguing, she could go back home. Kiara disagreed and told Pope that he sounded like her dad.

You, JJ, and John B were already grabbing beers from a cooler — the two boys swallowing theirs down within seconds. John B did his own complaining on the way over — not a single sentence spoken without the mention of Sarah Cameron.

“And she was like ‘that’s it’. She done with me.” He whined, even after downing a beer.

“I know, but dude? Her father blew up in front of her.” JJ reminded, clapping a hand on the boys shoulder.

“J’s right, John B.” You said, sipping your own beer as you looked around at the party goers. “ Just give her a minute-” You were cut off when a beer can clattered at all three of your feet, looking up to find the girl who’d passed John B that note in class with a lazy smile on her face.

“Hey, derelicts!” She shouted, giggling drunkenly.

“Hey!” JJ exclaimed, kicking the beer droplets from his shoes. “There she is…” He mumbled, side-eyeing JB. “That’s all you, my friend.” He said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking away from John B. “I’m outta here.” He said, throwing a peace sign over his shoulder.

The two of you walked away with bright smiles on your faces, laughing.

“Was I good wingman back there? One through ten...” JJ asked, a light smile on his face.

“Eh. I’ll give you an eight.” You shrugged lightheartedly.

“An eight?” He asked, his arm slipping from your shoulder to hold your hand as he turned to talk to you, face to face. “Where’d my other two points go?”

“You lost them because for one, that’s the same girl he made out with last year and never texted back because he said she was trashy and desperate. But neither of you remember that.” You reprimanded jokingly. “And two, I do feel kind of bad. Sarah’s probably somewhere crying and John B’s out here flirting with some girl…”

JJ groaned, stepping closer to you. “Trust me — Sarah is not moping around. I’ll bet you a million dollars that she’s with her knight in shining armor right now.”

“JJ, that’s not fair-”

“But it’s the truth. I know you two are sort of friends again but you can’t seriously tell me that you don’t think she ran to Topper.” You chewed the inside of you cheek, squinting your eyes.

“...I say have some faith in her.” You challenged, shifting your weight and crossing your arms, a mischievous smile on your face.

JJ chuckled, downing the remaining portion of his beer before taking your face in his hand gently, rubbing a thumb over your cheek as he looked down at you — the fire illuminating the side of your face beautifully. “You’re cute.” He cooed. “Twenty bucks says Sarah ran back to Topper and they’ll show up tonight.”

“And if I’m right?” You contested, cocking an eyebrow. “If they don't?” You asked, eyes on the blonde’s lips.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He said, fighting a smile as his eyes bored into yours. “What do you want?...” He asked, voice just above a whisper.

Your tongue traced the inside of your mouth as your eyes scanned his face. The two of you had been dating for less than twenty-four hours and the tension was already suffocating. And you were in public, for that matter. But for some reason, that fact didn’t affect you all that much.

“Yo, Maybank!” A deep, brassy voice rang out — JJ turning around as you peered over his shoulder to find one of the football players with his hands up. “Beer pong?” He offered, holding a ping pong ball between his fingers.

JJ turned back to you, a raised eyebrow. You just shrugged as the boy took your hand, walking you over. “Yeah, me and my girl are playin’!”

“AND THAT’S THREE TO ZEROOO!” JJ TAUNTED AS HIS PING PONG BALL LANDED IN THE OTHER TEAMS LAST CUP, beer sloshing as the round object hit the liquid. The people surrounding you cheered as the other team, the football player and his girlfriend, groaned and downed the cup of beer.

You’d been playing for at least half an hour, you and JJ consuming more beer than a dad of three on a football Sunday. JJ was no lightweight. You, on the other hand, have never been too good at controlling yourself after your third or fourth drink. There were different types of drunks — the loud one, the whiny one, the vomiter...

You were the touchy drunk. The flirtatious drunk. And the countless cups of beer were just starting to kick in — your body feeling warm and tingly as the night went on.

A chill traveled up the length of your spine when JJ pulled you into a celebratory hug, lifting you off your feet and planting a quick kiss on your lips. It was such an odd thing — all these feelings you had for him just seemed to amplify.

You did mean it when you said you saw him as a friend. Most of the time. Before you were together or expressed feeling for each other, you had moments here and there where you saw JJ from a not-so friendly perspective. You may have a had a little crush on him but who didn’t? He was hot.

So, yeah, maybe you’d stare a little longer than appropriate when he’d take his shirt off at the beach and maybe, just maybe, him calling you princess would make your heart beat a little faster and maybe that’s why you would tell him stop.

But now, you were his girlfriend. And he was your boyfriend. And even a day into dating, he had no problem showing it. His hands never hesitated when he wanted them on you and if your lips were there, trust and believe he’d kiss them. He’d take the time to help you out of and into the van and he seemed to love throwing his arm around your shoulder.

The little touches and looks ignited a new fire in you and with the liquor running through you, the small flame inside was more like a wildfire. Ever since everything that happened with Rafe, you hadn’t really felt comfortable when it came to intimacy. But something about JJ made it feel like you weren’t treading in such deep water without knowing how to swim. You felt safe.

“Alright, we’re done. Go find someone else to kick your ass.” JJ joked as he set you down, taking a few steps to give his friend a bro-hug, clapping each other on the shoulder. JJ held out his hand when he turned back to you. You eagerly put your hand in his, the two of you walking away and towards the center of the pit where people were sitting and dancing around the fire.

The blonde sat down and motioned for you to do the same, his hand never unlinking from yours until you were completely sat and comfortable. “...You done already?” You asked, watching as JJ perked up at the sound of your voice.

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyebrows cinching curiously.

“This is your, like, natural habitat.” You laughed, motioning to the party around you. “Normally, you go from shotgunning beers to the keg stand within fifteen minutes.”

He laughed lightly at your observation, his head dipping down for a moment. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Soooo?...” You questioned, a tipsy smile on your face.

“...I don’t know.” He sighed, looking at you. The bonfire illuminated his hair, making it look borderline golden. “I don’t wanna tire you out. I know you’re still recovering from...you know-”

“Pfft-” You cut him off. “Don’t worry about meee…” You groaned, shaking the boys shoulders. “I’m fine. I don’t even know what Barry gave me-”

“Yeah, I know.” JJ said seriously. “That’s the problem. I probably shouldn’t have even let you down that many beers…”

“JJ.” You deadpanned, a semi-drunken pout on your lips. “I’m fine.”

“...No one is really fine after something like that.” He said sadly, looking you in the eyes.

In truth, he was right. The events of yesterday had been playing in your mind since you woke up. Little flashes, here and there. It made it so hard to sleep — and you prayed you wouldn’t have a repeat of last summer all over again. You may not remember every single event but you couldn’t seem to forget how the entire ordeal made you feel. Helpless, disgusting…alone. But you figured, you got through it all once, right? What was one more time?

You didn’t want to bring down the mood and it was clear that’s where this was headed. So when your ears cued in on the song playing over the speakers, a bright smile planted itself on your face as you stood up, holding a hand out for JJ that he took without hesitation. But not without question.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Dance with me.”

“Ah, I don’t think this is really a slow dancing song, princess.” He protested, a sheepish smile on his face. “And I don’t know how to do that, anyway.”

“Who said anything about slow dancing?” You asked as if he asked a ridiculous question. “We’re at a bonfire, not a debutante ball.” You joked.

“A what?”

“Oh my God.” You sighed with a smile. “Just dance with me, you loser.” You urged, spinning in his arms so that you were facing away from him and pressing yourself against him, putting both of his hands on your waist as you swayed against him.

“Oh-” JJ said, your quick movements catching him off guard before he seemed to find himself. “This kind of dancing.” He said — his fingers pressing into the exposed skin of your waist as he matched your movements. Your own hands trailed up his arms — one steady feeling up his bicep as the other traveled up to the nape of his neck.

Normally, you’d be a little nervous in a situation like this. But with the alcohol, the fact that most of the people around were too drunk to notice, and the consideration of the other ten couples that were nearly tongue-fucking one another scattered around the skate park — a little grinding was the least of anyone’s concerns.

You were surprised when you felt the skin of JJ’s lips brush against the skin of your neck, the hairs standing up at the contact. You could faintly hear him humming the lyrics of the song — the combination of his featherlight touch and the sound of his voice making one dangerous duo.

You didn’t realize you were subconsciously pushing yourself further into him until you felt the familiar feeling of something pressing into your backside, the same feeling you felt in Charleston. You were starting to take it as a compliment. And he didn't seem as apologetic this time around.

At the feeling of him pressed against you, you craned your neck to look at him when the boy wasted no time in encapsulating your lips with his — a sloppy, passionate kiss as you both swayed against each other. You swore you heard a wolf-whistle somewhere but you paid no mind, turning in JJ’s hold to wrap both arms around his neck as he pulled you even closer into him.

One of his hands started to trace your spine all the way down to your ass when shouting distracted you both.

“Relax!” You both broke your exchange, turning around to see Sarah, John B, Topper, and the girl you’d left John B with all in each other’s faces.

“Why don’t you just leave, Sarah?” The girl sassed, the entire party quieting down aside from the people egging on the altercation, flashlights coming on as people started to record. “You aren’t even together anymore-”

“Why are you still talking?!” Sarah exclaimed, hands in the girls face.

“Have a little respect. Her dad just died!” Topper jumped in, reprimanding the girl.

“Shut up, Kook!” She spat, chin up. “Back off!” She warned, pushing Topper back with one arm.

“What’s going on?” Pope asked from beside you and JJ — him and Kiara seeming to have made their way through the crowd.

“The confrontation of the century.” JJ laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “You owe me twenty dollars, princess.” He whispered, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. You didn’t miss the way Pope’s eyes squinted, you turning to look at him. The curly-haired boy pointed back and forth between you and JJ, raising an eyebrow and crossing his fingers — a silent question.

You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. Pope smiled and held out his fist, waiting for you to bump yours with his. You scoffed, giving him a fist bump. You couldn’t turn back to face the argument without meeting Kie’s eyes that no doubt saw the interaction between you and Pope. She looked sad. Disappointed, almost.

“She’s a real gem.” Sarah said sarcastically to John B.

“What am I to you, huh?” He challenged, stepping closer to Sarah as Topper and the girl argued in the background. “Am I just another one? Like him?” He questioned, motioning towards Topper.

“She just another groupie to add to your collection?” Sarah retorted, standing toe to toe with the boy.

“Sarah, it doesn’t matter-” Topper tried but he went ignored.

“Did I mean anything to you?!” Sarah’s voice rose, her fists balling at her sides as Topper tugged on her arms.

“You’re questioning me when you’re here with your ex?!” John B shouted back.

“Did you tell her?!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Hey, back off!” Topper stepped in eventually, eye to eye with John B. “You wanna start some shit right now?!”

“Do I wanna start some shit?...” John B asked menacingly, head held high.

“Come on, John B! Kick his ass!” Some random bystander yelled, phone in hand. The four of you looked at one another nervously.

“Should we…?” Kiara dragged out.

“Yeah.” Pope answered the half-asked question, the four of you wrestling your way through the mob of people to reach your friends. Too preoccupied with pushing your way through, you couldn’t see what was happening. But you could hear.

“They all know what happened last time!” That was Topper.

“Just get out! Go!” Sarah. Who was she talking to?

“I’ll beat your ass!” Topper. Again.

“Get out of here, Topper!” John B said.

“Hey!” A new voice. “She don’t want you anymore, bro!” Was that Kelce?

“Shut the hell up...” John B warned, pushing the boy out of his face. You were able to see this happen just as the four of you made it to the center where they stood.

“What’re you gonna do, John B?” He pressed. “Kill me like you killed Sheriff Peterkin? Huh?” Wrong move, Kelce. Wrong. Move. “Do something!-” And something was indeed done as John B doubled back to punch the boy in his jaw, sending him stumbling back into the crowd.

Topper took the opportunity to charge at JB, grabbing him up by his shirt and tossing him to the ground. This urged you and your friends to jump in, the crowd closing in.

“Hey!” The four of you yelled angrily, pushing people out of the way.

“Move!” You shouted, forcefully shoving bodies out of you way. “Get the f- move!” You broke through just in time to see the girl John B was chatting up push Sarah to the concrete, JB calling the blonde’s name. You shoved the girl away, seeing her tumble on her ass. “Move, bitch!”

“What’s your problem?!” Kiara shouted at the girl as well, emerging next to you after witnessing the assault herself. “You all right?” Kie asked Sarah as the girl pushed herself up.

“What the hell?!” The girl that pushed her screamed. “Whose side are you on?!”

“She’s our friend!” You retorted. “Guys!” You shouted, looking around for your three male friends — spotting them to your right. John B was being pinned down by Topper, Pope had bum rushed half a dozen people to get to him, and JJ had leaped over one of the short walls to help his friend.

Pope went straight for Kelce who was helping Topper jump JB — taking a few nasty hits to his torso before managing to subdue the boy.

JJ had his sights on Topper — snatching the boy off of his best friend and into a chokehold.

“JJ!” You shouted, you and Kie rushing over. “We have to leave!” You warned, not getting too close.

“It’s not worth it, guys, come on!” Kiara bellowed.

Pope was the first one to ground himself, pushing Kelce off of him and to the concrete before gathering JJ and John B. “C’mon, we’re done!” He rushed, pushing the two boys ahead of him.

“We good?” JJ asked John B, full of adrenaline. He was on a streak, huh?

“We’re good.” John B exasperated, adjusting his shirt.

The five of you walked away from the party, JJ grabbing your hand so he didn’t lose you in the crowd. Piling into the van, the five of you sped off watching the chaos continue through the vehicle windows.

“WELL, THAT WAS A LITTLE UNEXPECTED.” JJ pointed out the obvious, crushing an empty beer can in his hand and leaning against the van. You’d stopped at a convenience store, The Twinkie parked outside. You and JJ had gone inside to get drinks as John B sat inside, legs outstretched in front of him with a cold beer pressed to his head, Kiara and Pope sitting up front with Kie in the driver’s seat.

“Was it?” She protested, pulling her face together.

“Couldn’t just have one night without some shit going on.” Pope sighed angrily, throwing his head back.

“Hey, maybe she’ll come around.” JJ tried the optimistic approach, eyes on John B who looked like he couldn’t be more over it if he tried.

“...It’s like everything that happened to us didn’t matter.” John B said sadly, looking at his shoes. “And maybe it doesn’t.”

“I’VE HAD MORE BLACK EYES IN THE LAST MONTH THAN I’VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.” Pope said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t as gloomy as it was in the van on the way back, but the gray cloud was still there.

You were all back at The Chateau now, crowded around your own bonfire. You and JJ sat on one bench, Marley curled up at your feet while John B and Kie sat on another, Pope having a lawn chair all to himself as him, you, and JB roasted marshmallows.

“That was building up for years.” JJ said, taking a bite out of his fresh hot pocket as you laid your head on his shoulder, roasting your marshmallow. “Rumble in the jungle.” He joked through a mouth full of food.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, eyes running between you and Kie. “Did you guys really stick up for Sarah?”

You simply shrugged. “Yeah, look like she needed it.” You said bluntly, not in a mean way. Just matter of factly. “Pogues and Kooks fight different. Sarah isn’t the fighting type, not the pogue fighting type anyway.”

“Of course I did.” Kie replied after. “She’s not a real Kook.”

“Yeah, tell that to Topper.” Pope threw out. It went silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the crickets and the crackling of the fire. And the chickens in the coop. They were oddly active tonight.

At the sound of their incessant clucking, John B’s eyes furrowed — turning around and staring off into the distance. You paid no mind to it as JJ plucked your freshly roasted marshmallow of the stick and ate it just as you’d brought it to your lips.

“Ah- hey!” You removed your head from his shoulder, pushing him playfully.

“Sorry, got a little hungry.”

“You have an entire hot pocket in your hand.”

“Yeah, but-” He was cut off when you dipped your head down taking a huge bite out of his hot pocket — the steaming food causing you to breathe wildly while chewing. “That’s what your ass gets.” He laughed, his amusement dying when Marley took the opportunity to snatch the remaining portion of the item from his hand, gulping in down in few bites. “What the hell?!”

Your own laughter erupted, almost causing you to choke on the bite of food – JJ patting your back to help out when John B shushed you. The four of you looked at him.

“What?” Pope asked.

“...Someone’s here.” He said, standing up from his seat and taking slow steps towards the chicken coop.

“You don’t think Topper would…?” Kiara threw out the possibility.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” JJ said, trying to find whatever it was John B was looking at. The four of you stood up, trailing behind John B.

“Hey, who’s out there?!” John B called, the five of you creeping around the bushes and trees.

“You Kooks better not try anything!” Kie warned aloud.

Suddenly, a figure emerged. “How y’all doing?” You couldn’t help but loudly smack your teeth and roll your eyes — it was no one other than the creepy guy that ran with Limbrey.

“Not this motherfucker…” You sighed. "Don't you have a job?"

“You gotta be kidding me.” JJ complained beside you.

“Lovely evenin’ we’re havin’.” He smiled, walking towards you all and out of the woods with his hands up in surrender.

“Lovely evening we were having.” You corrected, a grimace on your face. “Go away.” You dead panned. “Creeping in the woods and peeping on minors is odd. And a felony-”

“You know, out of all of you, I think I like you the least.” He said.

“Is this where I’m supposed to fall to my knees in tears?” You sassed. “For someone dressed like a low budget G.I. Joe, I don’t think you should be too worried about me.”

“Look, I didn't come here to fuss ‘n fight.” He said. “I don’t hold a grudge with any of y’all, all right?” He reassured, slapping his hands against his thighs. “But this can go hard,” He said, patting himself down and holding his jacket open as he spun around to show that he was unarmed. “Or this can go easy.” He said plainly, throwing his arms out.

He was in front of you all now, surveying you each one by one. “You know what I’m here for.” He smiled. “Lemme give you a little demonstration, you see that swing?” He asked, pointing to the tire swing in hanging from the large tree in the backyard. “I got the best bow hunters in the Army Rangers with me.”

“Yeah?” JJ challenged.

“Mhm.” The man hummed, whistling two times before an arrow went whizzing through the air, embedding itself into the oak of the Magnolia Tree. The object startled some of your friends, you and JJ’s eyes glued to the man as he walked circles around you five. “They’ll stick you just as soon as I say so.” He threatened, stepping into Pope’s space.

JJ walked up behind him when an arrow flew right beside your ear, landing right at the blonde’s feet. You’d forgotten all about Marley until you heard her growl from beside you, looking down to see her eyes glued to the man as she bared her teeth.

You’d never heard her growl so lowly before. And maybe it was time to start teaching her some new tricks if she was going to be by your side through all this. Maybe you were both changing...

“Nuh-uh.” He warned, eyeing JJ before turning his smug grin back to Pope. “Now, I’m not gonna give you a countdown or any bullshit like that. I’m just gonna whistle.” He said bluntly, eyes boring into Pope’s who was breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

It was a tense few moments — It was Pope’s choice. But was it really? Were there really any choices at all? The air grew stiff and suffocating as you watched your friend dig into his pocket, his hand emerging with the real key this time.

He was about to hand it over when he clutched it, holding it to his chest. “No.” He muttered, shaking his head as he pressed his lips together. “This key belongs to my family.” He hissed.

The man laughed, pacing shortly on his feet. “I am losin’ my patience with you, Pope.” He informed, eyes void yet full of evil all at once. He turned back to Pope, putting two fingers to his lips, preparing himself to give the signal to his men in the woods when Pope handed over the key.

He smiled, taking the item with no urgency. “You did the right thing, kid.” He commended. “Knowing when you don’t have a choice is an underappreciated talent. You be safe, now.” He waved off, turning and walking through the remaining four of you. “Y’all have a good night.” He bid farewell as he disappeared into the trees again, multiple footsteps shuffling in the greenery to follow him out.

Pope stood there, panting like an angry bull. You’d never seen him so furious. Pope was the voice of reason. He was the level-headed one. The rational one.

Not whatever this was.

“...I am so sick, of this shit.” He rasped, his anger not allowing him to move his voice above an infuriated whisper. He shook his head, fists balled tightly as he walked off.

And you stood wondering just how much more personal was this going to get.

next chapter>

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #svn #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #SoundCloud

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eddiesghxst · 1 year ago

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 10/12)

helloooo, here are these two messy cuties once again, i hope you enjoyyy

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: time is almost up but who could deny a good karaoke session?

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, sexual themes, slight angst, those awkward/cringey scenes where they're singing (i apologize in advance), and lots of mixed feelings <3

word count: 3.9k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy hehe:

Steve and Robin love karaoke.

Nancy had warned you that the friendly pair practically fiend for a good karaoke sesh, but you hadn’t expected them to be as enthusiastic as they turned out to be.

For some odd reason, the city seems less busy today, so you, Eddie, and Eddie's friends can take up as much room as you’d like on the sidewalk.

In front of you, Robin and Steve are seriously debating what the first song on the queue will be. Walking just a few paces behind them is Nancy, who’s quietly taking in the city's bright lights; and next to you, palm burning a hole through your hand with his addicting touch, is Eddie.

It’s stupid, you think. The way Eddie has seen you stripped down and bare, whining and quivering for him at what could arguably be your most vulnerable state, yet you still find your heart racing 100 miles a minute with this soft gesture of holding hands.

Sure, you’ve held his hand before, but not for this long. Not in public when it’s not the heat of the moment and you’re simply walking around. It’s weird and new, and it makes your stomach twist in a good way, but fuck— you chicken out when Robin and Steve turn to face you, Nancy, and Eddie.

“Steve wants to start karaoke with Queen— like any karaoke amateur would.” Robin huffs as Steve rolls his eyes. You slip your hand from Eddie’s hold before either of them can clock the gesture, and you avoid looking at Eddie when he clears his throat.

“Because it’s the perfect opener!” Steve stresses. “Everybody always does, Queen, Steve! Plus, I’m not even sure I can physically pull through with how long their songs are.” Robin argues.

Steve’s jaw dropped as if Robin had just said the most foul thing he’d ever heard, “Their songs are not that long. And even if they are, they’re fucking amazing, so what’s your point.” “My point is we’re not starting the night with Queen.”

They’re an interesting group of friends, you’ll admit. Interesting in the sense that you swear they could be a part of some sitcom with how funny and unpredictable their conversations and interactions are.

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, Steve and Robin have an entire list of songs mentally queued up, and they make a beeline to the DJ operating the music as you and Nancy snag a table towards the middle of the room. The bar is to one side of the room while the stage is at the front, and the DJ booth is at the back; the rest of the room is full of tables where people chatter, laugh over drinks, and sing along with whoever is currently doing their performance. Eddie had split off to get drinks the second you entered the bar, so it’s just you and Nancy as you settle at the wooden table.

“Are you going to sing?” Nancy questions from the other side of the table. You pull a face, shrugging your shoulders up to your ears, “I’m not sure, maybe once I get a few drinks in me. How about you?” Nancy softly laughs with a playful roll of her eyes, “Unfortunately, I doubt Robin will let me escape this one.”

As if summoned, Robin slides into the seat right next to Nancy. “I put you down together, but there’s a few people ahead, so start thinking of the song you’ll sing.” She gestures between you and Nancy. You shrug, accepting defeat, and before you can pitch an idea for a song to Nancy, Robin is leaning her elbows against the table and blinking at you, “So, let’s cut to the chase. What’s going on between you and Eddie?” She asks.

Nancy’s eyes widen as she instinctively jabs her elbow into Robin’s ribs, “Ow!” “Rob, you can’t just ask people that— god.” You softly laugh as Robin rubs at her sore side. “Sorry if I’m interested in keeping tabs on my friend!” Robin sarcastically argued.

Nancy rolls her eyes and sends you an apologetic look. “Look, I’m just guessing— based on the fact that you two were in the back of a fancy restaurant— that something is going on. Oh— unless this is, like, a business thing, then you can totally ignore me.” Robin rambles.

“Robin,” Nancy stresses. Your cheeks seem to ache from the amused expression on your face as Nancy turns to you, “You don’t have to answer either way since it’s none of our business.” She says, voice raising near the end as she glares at Robin. Robin rolls her eyes, and you laugh with a shake of your head as you shift in your seat. “No, it’s fine, I understand, but um,” You shrug, “It’s just a business thing.” You finally answer.

And, technically, you’re not wrong. There is a business transaction going on between you and Eddie… and the rest of the band, which is primarily the basis of your relationship, but you’re not sure how appropriate it would be to say, ‘Yeah, I mean, Eddie hated me, but now he doesn’t, so then we fucked yesterday but then his manager basically told us to squash whatever that was, so now we’re kind of in a weird spot because we don’t hate each other but we can’t like each other. Oh yeah, and here’s the kicker, Eddie’s been a total asshole this entire time, and it’s fucked with my head a bit. But apparently, he wants to change!’

It’s a colorful mess of loopholes and twists and turns that probably nobody will fully understand aside from you and Eddie, so…. business thing it is.

Robin seems to take that as an answer, but Nancy is now intrigued by your tone, “That didn’t sound very sure.” She playfully raises a suggestive eyebrow. Robin hums, “What happened to it being none of our business?” She points out, to which Nancy just waves a dismissive hand in response. “It’s a business thing, but…” Nancy prods. Your face warms as you lift your shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, it’s… it’s complicated.”

Nancy nods with a shrug as she shifts in her seat, “So, how did you two meet?”

You take a deep breath as you lean to rest your elbows on the table, “Well, I’m a writer for Rolling Stone magazine—” Robin gasps, grabbing your attention, “No shit? Nancy’s a journalist too— ow!” She turns to look at Nancy with a disgruntled look as she rubs her thigh, “Would you stop bullying me?” She frowns.

Before either of them can get far into bickering, Eddie and Steve come waltzing back to the table with drinks in their hands. Eddie snags a seat beside you and passes a drink to you; you smile as you gratefully take the glass and softly thank him. Steve plops down next to Robin, sliding her and Nancy their drinks as he says, “Alright, I hope everyone has their songs picked out because I plan on battling each and every one of you.”

Although the weather outside is on the more chilly side of summer days, you find your body warm with liquor and laughter as you, Nancy, and Eddie watch a tipsy pair of Steve and Robin sing a surprisingly good rendition of Huey Lewis’ Heart and Soul. You’ve shrugged off your sweater and tossed it over the back of your chair— and you’re thankful to have thrown on a tank top underneath because, most of the time, you hardly bother to wear anything beneath sweaters.

It’s their fourth song of the night, Eddie and Nancy have both gone up at least once, but you’ve been on the observant side mostly, enjoying the ongoing conversations you’ve had with Nancy. There’s a bowl of chips and salsa in the middle of the table, and Eddie’s arm is draped across the back of your chair, heat pouring from him and seeping all around to wrap you up in an Eddie-scented bubble— it’s nicer than you’d care or like to admit.

Nancy has turned around to watch and cheer on the performance; she’s become more animated and loose after a few drinks, and you laugh as Robin practically serenades her from the stage. You lean back in your chair, softly giggling as you slightly lean into Eddie, “So,” you grab your drink and glance at the boy on your side, “What’s the dynamic here?” You ask with a jut of your chin towards his friends.

Eddie hums, leaning further into his chair, and in turn, pressing himself closer to you. His breath is warm against your ear and cheek, curly strands brushing against your skin as he speaks, “So basically,” He dramatically sighs, and you smile at his dramatics as he gestures between his friends, “Nancy and Steve are exes from high school and Robin and Steve are best friends.” You nod, gaze darting between the friends as you connect the dots. “But,” He raises a finger over his glass, “Robin and Nancy are dating now.” Your eyebrows raise at the full circle of events, but you nod as your suspicions are finally confirmed.

Eddie leans closer, voice dropping to a lower volume, “But at this rate, it’s safe to say Nancy’s playing third wheel for Steve and Rob since they practically share one brain cell.” You tilt your head, “Okay, I see it now.”

Nancy glances over her shoulder to glare at you and Eddie from her seat, “I heard that, assholes… you’re not wrong.” She grumbles. You and Eddie laugh as she turns back to face you both now that Steve and Robin are hopping off the stage.

“Steve’s actually seeing a girl now; she’s in nursing school.” Nancy pipes up, grabs a chip, and pops it into her mouth. Eddie leans forward at that, keeping his arm on your chair as he uses the other to grab a chip for himself, “Nursing school?”

Nancy nods as she sips her drink, “He goes down to see her like every other weekend. And they run our phone bill up like hell.”

Robin plops down into her seat, “What are we talking about? Steve’s hot nurse babe?” She asks, humming when Nancy nods. Robin scoffs as she turns to Eddie, “Can you believe they’ve been dating for, like, four months, and we have yet to even see a picture of her? They see each other every week!”

Eddie snorts, “Then who’s he talking to on the phone?” Robin shrugs, “Who knows at this point.”

Steve returns as if on cue, sitting down with a sigh as he glances at the table, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, just talking about your imaginary girlfriend.” Robin teases.

Steve groans, eyes rolling before glaring at his giggling friends— your cheeks hurt from smiling. “She’s real, okay? She’s real, and her name is Cassie, and the only reason you haven’t met her yet is because she’s literally in nursing school— she has a busy schedule!”

And although you wish Eddie and you had been able to finish your discussion without the abrupt interruption, you find yourself growing fond of this shade of Eddie— sure, you’ve seen him having fun and being unapologetically himself with Gareth and Jeff and even on stage, but this side of Eddie is softer— kinder, brighter— homey.

You realize as you watch him singing his heart out to some mainstream pop song that Steve somehow talked him into doing. You’re more surprised that Eddie knows the lyrics, but you’re too tipsy to dwell on it because Nancy’s scooting onto the chair beside you and asking what song you two should sing because, “We have to outsing them, obviously.”

And, well, you hardly have the time to stop your lips before you lean in and tell her the song you’d like to sing. Nancy snickers, giggling at the obvious undertone of the chosen song, and she eagerly agrees because “He’s gonna shit his pants.”

You go back and forth on who will take which role— who will sing Tom Petty’s key, and who will sing Stevie Nicks's key— but then you eventually land on just singing together for the entirety of the song. When the boys finish their song, Nancy drags you up to the DJ to request the song and magically persuades him to let you skip the queue of people to go next. She’s a good flirt, that’s indisputable.

You should probably thank Nancy at some point for agreeing to this song regardless of how little information she has about your situationship with Eddie, but before you even get the chance to, you and Nancy are already singing the first line of the song— Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door. Same old line you used to use before— and well, Eddie’s head has never turned his head faster, but you avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

And you’re doing good; you’re doing so good, and then you get to the second chorus and lock eyes with Eddie as you sing along to the track with Nancy— Baby, you could never look me in the eye. Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world. Stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my heart around— and, well… you think you made your point clear.

You and Nancy have a blast singing to Nicks and Petty, and when the song ends, the bar claps and cheers as they do after every performance, and you’re all smiles as you waltz back to the table, sitting next to the fidgeting boy you’d just indirectly serenaded. Steve and Robin are telling you and Nancy how well you did and teasing each other over specific parts of the performance, and they’re all so caught up in one another that they hardly notice as Eddie leans into your space, voice low and gravely as he speaks, “That was cruel, princess.”

You look at him, eyes falling to the ghost of a smirk that dances across his lips before you reach forward to grab your drink, wrapping your lips around the thin, black straw, maintaining eye contact as you shrug, “Did you get the hint?” You tease.

Eddie huffs around a laugh, shifting in his seat, left arm back to barricading the back of your chair, and you don’t fail to notice the tent in the crotch of his jeans. He rolls his tongue over his teeth, snickering when you raise an eyebrow, “Yeah… Yeah, I got the hint.” He nods, and you think you might see a pink tint dusting across his cheeks.

You smile, liquor making you bold as you blink up at him, “Good.”

It’s a long trip to the hotel with a pair of drunk best friends.

They ramble a lot— Steve and Robin— you come to find out, and Nancy and Eddie have become experts at handling them with ease. You realize this as you watch them get their friends tucked into bed. Nancy is tipsy, but Eddie informed you that she has a weird thing with tequila where she becomes highly functioning, so she’s moving about the room with grace and precision.

When the drunk pair is finally tucked into bed, Nancy walks you and Eddie to the door of the hotel room, thanking you for taking the time to make sure they got in safe. “I would say see you at breakfast, but I doubt these two will have crawled from the grave by then.” Nancy gestures back to Robin and Steve.

You don’t blame them; they’re basically on holiday, and you would do the same.

Your and Eddie’s rooms are on a different floor, and it’s a long ride up to the top, especially with the burning desire for one of you to say something— what, you’re not sure.

“I like your friends.”

That was you talking, you realize when Eddie turns to you with a smirk, “Yeah? They didn’t scare you off with their incessant shithead behavior?” He jokingly questions. You hum with a laugh, “I’ve dealt with worse.” You tease.

Eddie walks you to your room, his intoxicating smell and presence hovering around you as you unlock the door before stepping in. You turn around, hand resting on the edge of the door as you look at the curly-haired boy, “Good night, Eddie.”

Eddie hums, leaning against the door frame, eyes flickering to the twist of your mouth before reaching your eyes again, “Not gonna finish our conversation?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I hardly believe you’d be doing much talking if I let you in right now.” And you don’t think you’re ready to travel down that path again. Not so soon when you have the events of tonight to digest, not to mention the gift sitting in your bag.

Eddie shrugs with a small smirk, “I can multitask.”

His gentle smile is beautiful. Alluring and unique, and his eyes are taking you with such an intensity that you think you might melt if you stay a minute longer. “I didn’t choose that song for the hell of it, you know?” You ask. “Stevie’s got a mean fucking range. Lord knows if I’ll be covering her again.” You grumble. And really, how high can the woman go with her rasp?

Eddie laughs, turning his head and glancing at the empty hallway before looking back to you, “Yeah, I know,” He softly replies.

You nod and he takes a deep breath, nodding towards your bag slung over your shoulder, “Listen to the tape.” He reminds you.

You tilt your head, clenching the strap of your bag before speaking, “Are you under the impression that this would make up for everything?” You ask.

And you don’t mean for it to sound harsh or hurt his feelings, but you have to let him know that if that’s what he’s hoping, then he’s wrong. This doesn’t fix everything. This doesn’t fix the confused feelings and the harsh words. It’s a start, but it’s not a finish as well.

And although Eddie’s expression falters, he shakes his head, “No. But I still want you to listen.”

You nod quietly, gazing at each other and wishing you could start on a different foot. You clear your throat, straighten your stance, and step back. “Good night, Eddie.” You softly say.

By the time you finish showering and getting ready for bed, the only thing running on your mind is the pending need to sleep. The maids had changed out the seats so they’re not doused with the ghost of Eddie’s cologne and shampoo— but you don’t go long with Eddie out of your mind because there’s a hard object that pokes into your arm when you settle into the bed.

You groan, twisting your arm around your frame to dig out the small object from below you, and when your fingers wrap around the plastic case, you immediately remember the task you’d had for tonight— listen to the tape.

The sleep that weighed down on your body is suddenly gone as you sit up to grab your walkman and headphones before settling back into the comfy sheets.

You try your best to ignore the swirling feeling of nerves and excitement in your gut as you put on your headphones and slip the tape in, but you find yourself nipping at the skin of your nails as the tape winds either way.

It’s silent for a moment, the sound of shuffling and the soft thud of what you think might be someone setting a glass down. There’s a clearing of a throat— it’s Eddie, you can tell— and your stomach twists in anticipation at the first ring of a piano chord.

The beginning chords are soft and slow, gentle enough to lull you to sleep if you sink into it, and the recording is so vivid that you can hear the dull thud of each key beneath the press of his fingers.

Your heart races when Eddie’s voice seeps into the melody. It’s a ballad, something Corroded Coffin doesn’t have much of, and you wonder why because the softness of Eddie’s voice is arguably one of the most heavenly sounds to have ever touched your ears.

I'm feeling a way, off some kinda drug

Maybe it's lust, maybe it's love

I know I said I'd straighten out a week ago

I'm fiending though, 'bout to reach my peak, you know

The city's got me falling now

It’s… fuck, it’s fucking good, and you haven’t even gotten to the chorus, but god, your heart skips a beat at the following line because it’s a direct callout to you.

I'm fading away, I'm losing my head

I know you said leave, but fuck what you said

As much as you wish you could say you hate it… you don’t.

Even though the song is about you and your twisted relationship with Eddie— which definitely aids to your feelings towards the track— it’s genuinely a good song. Which, okay, is slightly annoying, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as the song carries on.

The future's never looked so bright, it's blinding me

It's hard to see, I'm swimming through dopamine

Your body looks like heaven and

I wanna give up, I just wanna leave

I'm floating away, I'm caught in the breeze

The outro of the song comes and slows down, a softer sound than before filling your ears, and shit— you’re at the edge of your seat now because Eddie is singing so gently, and it has your mind swirling.

I can't believe this is happening

What did I do? What did she do to me?

…

Mending my brain again

Please don't give up on me

This hurts tremendously

How will this end for me?

When the song dies off, you can hear shuffling again before the track ends, and you’re left with spinning thoughts as you take your headphones off and let the silent and dark room envelope you.

You have to take a moment, yanking the string of the bedside lamp to light up the room so you can see your thoughts more clearly because— how do you feel? You’re not sure, honestly, and the thud of your heart beating in your chest only clouds your judgment even more because— isn’t this what you asked for? For Eddie to be open and honest with you, to tell you his true feelings and where he’s at when it comes to you. And is it enough?

Would it ever be enough for Eddie to give you one simple, stripped-down track to allow him the chance to mend what he’d ruined?

Your heart wants it to be enough, but realistically, it’s not. Eddie has only just begun his journey to forgiveness, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not wrong to be hesitant to let him in, neither is it bad for you to want him as badly as you do. You’re both learning, and you’re both trying to fix the damage that’s been done, and it might take time, but if you both want it— if Eddie really wants you— then the time and work it takes to fix things won’t be a bother.

You listen to the song two more times, maybe more than twice, and you let the words sink into your bones until you practically have it engraved into your mind, lulling yourself to sleep with the haunting echo of Eddie’s voice and words bouncing in the walls of your skull.

And in your dreams, you meet Eddie, and for the split second you have with him there, everything is perfect— and by the time you wake up, the ticking time bomb to make your choice is now louder than it’s ever been before.

————

part eleven

————

a/n: OMG HIII, you made it to the end again !!! i would just like to specify that the song eddie has written and sang for birdie in this chappy (23 x chase atlantic) is not entirely a nod towards their relationship! reader is not specifically 23 years old nor is she struggling with any type of substance abuse, the lines that were used in this chapter are the lines that actually adhere to them imo, OKAY I THINK U GET IT I'LL SHUT UP NOW.

also, this is not the last of the songs that eddie has written abt birdie btw🫣

i hope u enjoyed and i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 AND AS ALWAYS, TY FOR READING, I LOVE U SO BIG MWAH <3

————

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

Don't You Want Me, Baby | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was like a fairytale, the way you stole Bradley's heart with your gorgeous face, retro denim jacket, and karaoke skills. But when you disappear into the night, leaving only one small trinket behind, he's left wondering if he didn't just dream you up.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing and karaoke

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley's favorite thing about '80s throwback nights at the Hard Deck was seeing how his friends dressed for it. Nat usually went with neon spandex. Bob had a vintage Nintendo tee shirt. Jake found a windbreaker and matching pants at a thrift store. Even Penny got in on things by wearing a hideous blazer with enormous shoulder pads.

But Bradley just wore what he always did: one of his dad's tropical print shirts from circa 1983, his snug Levi's, and his slick mustache.

When he arrived at the Hard Deck, he realized that his least favorite part of this kind of night was the fact that he was always the odd man out now. He'd been single for such a long time, and it didn't usually bother him. But the way Javy had his arm around Nat, and the way Bob's girlfriend was making him blush... well, Bradley was starting to feel like he was missing out.

Nat handed him a beer as soon as he strolled up to the bar. "I can't decide if it's funny or sad that you don't even have to try," she told him, eyeing him up and down.

"Says the woman wearing a neon pink jumpsuit? What even is that thing?" he asked, gesturing to her outfit. Frankly, it was scary, but Javy seemed to like it as he kissed Nat and whispered in her ear before he walked away, turning to look at her several times.

She rolled her eyes and told him, "It's '80s workout attire! I'm going to sing the song Physical for karaoke, and I thought it would be fun to match the theme. You, on the other hand, wore the same thing the other day when we went out for pizza. You live in the '80s my friend."

"Whatever," Bradley grunted, sipping his beer.

"Rooster, did you sign up for a song yet?" Fanboy asked him, jerking his thumb to the karaoke setup in the corner.

Just as he was about to reply, Nat smirked at him. "How about I pick a song for you?"

Bradley just shrugged. "Sure." He liked singing. He was pretty good at it. And with tonight's theme, he'd know all the lyrics even without the video prompt. But he didn't like the smug look on his friend's face as she strolled away in her hideous pink outfit.

He sipped his beer. There were a lot of people here tonight that he'd never seen before. It was usually the same Naval officer crowd every weekend, so this was interesting. And there were a lot of cute girls with their hair all teased and hair sprayed wearing things that made Bradley smile.

Then his eyes caught on a denim jacket and a mini skirt on the cutest girl he had seen in a very long time. "Oh," Bradley gasped, finishing the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle down on the counter. You turned to laugh at your friend who was behind you, but your eyes caught on Bradley's, and he started stumbling through the crowd in your direction.

Then the DJ in charge of karaoke night called up the first singer, and the crowd closed in on the stage. "Shit," Bradley muttered. He lost sight of you amongst the too bright neon strobe lights. The song Sunglasses at Night started blaring, and Bradley couldn't find his friends either. The more he tried to shove through the crowd, the more dirty looks he got.

Two more singers performed terrible renditions of songs that Bradley used to like until he heard them here. He figured you must have left, because he couldn't see you anywhere. With a sigh, he leaned against the back wall. And then Nat was there, pressing another beer into his hand.

"Why do you look so pissy?" she asked over the music.

He just shrugged and rolled his eyes at himself. "It's so dumb. But I saw the cutest girl, and then she vanished...."

There you were, not far from the DJ booth. You were dancing along to someone butchering Billie Jean. Bradley could barely see you through the crowd as he smacked Nat's arm. "It's her. Denim jacket. Little skirt. Fucking gorgeous face."

"Go talk to her," Nat told him with a grin that made him a bit nervous.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he asked, looking for the best way to get over to you. The way you were dancing and laughing had Bradley smiling as he squeezed past Bob.

When you spun in a slow circle with your friends, you froze, eyes meeting Bradley's again. This time you bit your lip and waved to him.

Bradley laughed and mouthed, "I'm coming." He watched as you pressed your lips together and ducked your face down.

"Hurry up!" you called when the song ended.

Bradley was about to start throwing elbows to get as close to you as possible. Then he heard his name.

"Rooster is up next! Where's Rooster?" called the DJ.

Bradley let his head tip back as he groaned. He waved to the DJ and then winked at you. "Sorry," he mouthed as he smiled at you.

You smiled and shrugged and that's when the DJ announced, "Rooster is singing that iconic song from Dirty Dancing, I've Had The Time of My Life."

He turned to glare at Nat where she stood against the back wall. "You picked a duet, you jerk! I can't sing that alone!"

But his attention snapped away from Nat when he felt your hand on his arm. You had managed to close the distance to him, and Bradley met your eyes as you let your fingers glide down his arm until they met his hand.

"I'll sing with you, Rooster."

Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you led him up to the stage as the bar was filled with applause. Bradley took the microphone from the DJ. You and he were going to have to share it, and he didn't mind that one bit.

"Ready?" Bradley asked you, keeping his flingers linked with yours.

"Let's do it."

Bradley nodded, signaling they were ready to sing, and when the music started, you smiled up at him. He missed the first few words as his heart pounded, scrambling to pick up the lyrics as you giggled.

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before. Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

Then when it was your turn, Bradley was hypnotized by your voice. He could come up with about a hundred more duets he was dying to sing with you. Either here at the bar, or maybe back at his place. Maybe you'd let him have your number.

He missed his next line again, completely distracted by you biting your lip and holding the microphone for him. "Shit," he said with a laugh, finally getting back on track again. But you seemed to know you were the reason he was distracted, and he could tell he was blushing.

And when it was time to sing together, your voice blended perfectly with his.

So we take each other's hand, 'cause we seem to understand the urgency.

And then you started to dance with him a little bit, just a sway of your hips, but Bradley moved along with you. It was perfect, the way you shared the microphone with him. The way your smile made the song even better. The way you laughed at the end when Bradley's face was close to yours and the room erupted in loud applause.

"Thanks for bailing me out," he told you as he handed over the microphone.

"You're welcome, Rooster," you told him with a smile that made him want to taste your lips. Then you were slipping your hand free from his as your friends called you over. You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley turned back to the DJ while another singer took the stage.

"I need you to let me sing again," Bradley told him.

"One song per person, sorry."

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled fifty bucks out of his wallet. "One more song? Right after this one?"

And then, just like that, Bradley was signed up. When he turned your way, you were already looking at him, challenging him to make a move.

"Excuse me," he said, encroaching on your friend group and holding out his hand for you to take. "But, my friend accidentally signed me up for another duet. Think you can help me out again?"

You slipped your hand into his and smirked. "Really? It looked like you signed yourself up this time."

He shook his head and pulled you closer to him. "Nah. Just a trick of the lighting, I think. It was definitely my friend."

Your laughter had him reaching his free hand gently around your waist, tucking it inside your denim jacket.

"That's a cute mustache," you told him, reaching up to touch his lip. "Did you grow it just for tonight?"

Bradley shook his head. "It's a permanent fixture."

"Oh, even better."

Bradley was thinking about it. He was going to do it. He was inching closer, ready to kiss you, when the DJ called his name again. "Rooster, you're up for an encore!"

The room erupted in more cheers as Bradley led you up to the stage, hand still at your waist.

"Which song is it?" you asked over the applause, your lips next to his ear.

His smile grew as he promised, "You'll know it."

Then Don't You Want Me started playing, and you laughed as Bradley danced around on the stage, singing just to you until the chorus when you joined him. Your perfect, smiling lips were so close to his as you both sang "Don't you want me, baby! Don't you want me, ohhh!" together.

And then he let you have the microphone for your part, and your voice sounded even better than the original song. He let his voice blend with yours again and again, but then too soon, the song was ending. He briefly wondered if he could get away with bribing the DJ for just one more song with you.

He had the microphone in his hand, about to check if he had more cash in his wallet, when you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Right in the middle of the stage. Right in the middle of the applause and the neon lights and the DJ introducing Nat as the next singer.

Your lips tasted as sweet as you looked, and Bradley almost dropped the microphone trying to get his arms around you as well. You kissed his lips softly and then laughed before you let your lips skim over his mustache.

"I had fun, Rooster," you whispered over all the commotion as you stepped off the stage with Bradley in tow. When Nat snatched the microphone out of his hand with a wink, you took his hand in both of yours.

"Think they'll let us sing another song together?" he asked, watching the smile on your lips as you took your denim hair scrunchie off your own wrist and pushed it over his hand. He looked down at his left wrist, now adorned with it. "What's this for?" he asked with what he was sure was a dopey grin.

"Keep it, Rooster," you said, but suddenly your friends were there, slowly pulling you away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his heart lurching as he ran his fingers over your scrunchie and tried to follow you. But the crowd was closing in on him, everyone going wild for Nat singing Physical. "I don't even know your name!"

You called out to him as you blew a kiss, but he couldn't hear you. He shoved Javy out of the way, trying to get to you again. As the crowd thinned near the exit, Bradley ran outside after you. But you were gone. There was no sign of you or your friends. All that was left was your scrunchie, the songs stuck in his head, and the feel of your lips on his.

--------------------------

"I imagined her," Bradley said for the sixth time at work on Monday. "She was perfect, but she wasn't even real." He was stretched out on the couch in the aviators' lounge with your scrunchie in his hand and a pout on his face.

"She was real, Rooster," Nat told him with an eye roll. "We all saw her. We all saw her kiss you before she left. Maybe it was your choice of song? Maybe she didn't want you, baby?" she asked with a devilish smirk.

Bradley launched the scrunchie at his friend's face, making her squeal. But then he was up off the couch immediately, running to collect his precious souvenir from the ground before anything happened to it. He balled it up in his hand and tucked it into the pocket of his flight suit.

"It would be impossible to find her again. I don't even know her name," he mumbled, kicking his foot along the floor as he sighed. "She was just..." He was thinking about your voice as you sang and your pretty face and your vintage denim jacket. "Perfect."

Nat took a step closer and patted him on the chest. "There has to be some way... Oh!"

"What?" Bradley asked, meeting her bright eyes with his hopeful ones.

"There would have to be other '80s karaoke nights around San Diego," she said quickly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Bradley's heart filled with hope as she said, "We could go to them, and maybe she'll be there."

"Nat. You're a genius."

When Friday night rolled around, Bradley picked Nat up in her hot pink spandex, and they drove to a bar in Oceanside where a throwback night was in full swing.

"See her anywhere?" Nat called over the loud music.

Just then someone started singing Don't You Want Me. Bradley's heart leapt. But it was a guy with a terrible voice and a girl who wasn't you.

"No," Bradley groaned, his heart full of frustration. "She's not here," he confirmed after walking through the entire bar.

And the following night, Bradley and Nat went to a bar in Balboa Park, ready to search for you again. They walked into a room full of people dancing around and singing to a Bon Jovi cover band.

After looking everywhere, taking his time to search the crowd, a dejected Bradley shook his head at Nat, and she followed him back outside to the Bronco.

The following Friday was no better as they hit up a club downtown. After they had no luck there, Nat told him about another karaoke night in Pacific Beach.

"This is it, Nat. This is the last one," Bradley told her, glancing at your scrunchie on the shifter as he drove. "If she's not here, then I need to stop looking."

"But, she could be-"

"Nat, come on. I've been like this for two weeks. I can't stop thinking about her, which is absolutely ridiculous. We sang two songs together, and then she bailed. I'm starting to think that even if I do find her, she's not going to remember who I am!"

She sighed in the passenger seat, and said, "I really hope she's here, just so I can see you proven wrong."

So Bradley searched the bar for you while he listened to so many bad singers in a row. He felt desperate now, knowing there wouldn't be another chance after this. And every time a denim jacket and a cute face caught his eye, he did a double take. But you weren't here either. The search was off now.

"Let's go," he told Nat, swallowing hard as he headed outside. And then he tossed your scrunchie into the center console, started up the engine and left.

-------------------------

"Come on," whined Nat, pulling on Bradley's arm. "I'll be fun!" Bradley was trying to head home after working late on Friday, but she wasn't going to let him.

"I don't feel like going to the Hard Deck tonight." He just wanted to go home, relax and pretend like he didn't still have your scrunchie in his pocket half the time.

But she stomped her foot. "No. You've been pouting. Javy, Bob and Jake are already there. We're going."

Bradley groaned and agreed to follow her to the bar to have exactly one drink. But when he walked in and realized that it was set up for karaoke, he turned to try to sneak back out.

"There he is!" Nat called, rushing forward to grab his hand before he had a chance to leave. "You promised. One drink."

"Fine," he grunted, sitting at the bar with his back to everyone else who was rushing up to pick a song to sing. And when Penny handed him a beer, he drank half of it in one sip, trying to finish it as quickly as he could.

When he was done, he reached into his pocket to get his wallet, pulling out your scrunchie at the same time. He shook his head, ready to toss it into the trash can behind the bar. But then he heard the opening chords of I've Had The Time Of My Life start playing. He'd been listening to the song nonstop for weeks, and when he spun to face the stage, he saw you. In your denim jacket.

"Rooster!" You had the microphone held up to your lips, and you were calling out to him.

"It's you!" he called back, trying to make his way through the crowd to get closer as his heart pounded.

"It's me," you told him with a bright smile. "Looks like I accidentally picked a duet as soon as I saw you. I need a partner. Are you available?"

He pushed his way through the crowd and jumped up onto the stage. "Yeah, I'm available." Then your hand was grabbing the front of his shirt, and his lips met yours. The crowd was screaming and cheering as you smiled against his mouth.

"I thought I dreamed you up," he told you, resting his forehead against yours. "Like a fairytale Princess in a denim jacket. Please don't leave this time."

"I won't," you promised, kissing him hard before turning to the DJ and giving him a thumbs up. When the song restarted, Bradley took the microphone and sang to you.

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before.

Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

And then he opened up his hand, showing you that he still had your scrunchie. You gently took it as you smiled up at him in surprise, and then you slid it onto his wrist before taking his hand. But after that song, Bradley didn't even bother trying to bribe the DJ for more, because he had you in his arms, your name on his lips, and your phone number saved for later.

-------------------------

If your man won't search the kingdom for you and then turn to a pile of mush when he finds you, then he's not the one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (04/10)

The Evolution

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the time comes for you to step out of your comfort zone a bit, so the party begins and you and Aemond must pretend in a new environment.

word count: 7.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

new chapter!🥳

before you start reading, I want to thank you for all the support I've received with this fic, it's the best and it means a lot to me that you're liking it so much🥺 there's still a lot to come and I can't wait for you to join me in the future chapters, so look forward to it!❤

and now yes, read and enjoy!

warnings: smoking, mention of weed, alcohol.

It's not like you're an alien, you've been to parties before, it's just not your favorite way to have fun.

And as you enter the huge house with DJ, colored lights pointing in all directions, beer pong tables, people dancing in the middle of it all with the music blasting in your ears and the smell of beer in the air, along with cigarettes and weed, you don't let go of Aemond's hand at any moment.

Fortunately not everyone notices you when you enter the house together, mostly because everyone is immersed in the big party, but some heads do turn to look at you and Aemond.

And together, you walk through all the bodies moving to the rhythm of the music, where Aemond has the purpose of looking for a less overwhelming place for you.

He skillfully guides you through the whole place, greeting some guys he meets on the way and congratulating him for tonight's victory, without him letting go of your hand for a second.

Until they finally find a less crowded and a little quieter corner on the back terrace, having in view the kitchen of the house where there are people smoking and drinking and in the background are all the people dancing.

Although the music is still blaring in the background, at least you can talk to Aemond without having to yell and he will hear you. And when you lean against the railing of the terrace, he looks at you with a knowing smile while you try to adapt to the environment.

"You don't really like this, do you?" he says, knowing the answer before you can say anything.

"Do I show it a lot?" you say, letting out a nervous laugh, "And I don't dislike it," you clarify, "It's just not my favorite place to be."

He nods sympathetically.

"I know, but we won't stay long, I promise," he assures you, "Do you want something to drink? A soda or water?"

You smile as you lower your gaze, a little shyly.

"Actually... I think I can handle a beer. It's a party after all."

You don't normally drink alcohol but considering you're at a party, you don't want to look like a party pooper. And you're sure that if you don't relax a little, you'll never make it through the night.

"Are you sure?" he watches you completely attentively, "If you don't want to—

"I'm sure, don't worry," you say, nodding.

"Good," he smiles softly at you, "I'll be right here," he points to the kitchen in front of you, serious and wanting to make it clear, "I'm not going anywhere else and I'll be back very soon."

You let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I know. Now go," you nod to him, smiling.

Aemond nods and walks away towards the kitchen, leaving you momentarily alone but not quite, as you can see him from where you are, moving back and forth with the two plastic cups. And then you focus around you, watching people dancing, laughing and playing party games.

The smell of cigarettes and weed reaches your nostrils, but you don't take much notice, as Aemond's company makes it all seem more bearable.

The music continues to echo in the atmosphere and after a few seconds, Aemond returns with the two cups in both hands, offering you your beer and you accept it with a grateful expression.

"Thank you," you say, feeling more relaxed to have him by your side again.

"I really didn't expect you to be up for a beer," he tells you with a playful smile.

"Please, it's just a beer," you reply with a laugh, taking a small sip.

"Careful or you might become the queen of the party."

"Don't overdo it," you tell him, laughing. "And what are you drinking?" you observe him curiously.

"Just beer," he says with a shrug, "But I drive, remember? So this will be the first and last of the night."

Aemond raises his cup in a casual toast in your direction, you smile and clink your cup lightly with his, then both of you drink in sync.

"Hey, what do you say we take a selfie?" he says animatedly, grabbing his phone, flipping open the camera, "I want to get a picture of you with my initials on your cheeks."

"As long as you don't put it as your wallpaper, it's fine," you joke.

"That's exactly what I want it for. Now smile."

That's what you do, you place your face close to his and you both smile. He takes a few more, where you make funny faces and also where he insists that you give him a kiss on his cheek, taking the selfie.

He then also insists that they take pictures from your phone as well, reminding you that you have to post them to your Instagram later and you rolling your eyes amusedly nod.

And once that's enough, Aemond looks at the photos with satisfaction.

"I'll definitely set this one as my wallpaper."

"Which one?" you ask him curiously.

He smiles and proudly shows you his screen, which features the picture of you with his initials painted on both of your cheeks, smiling and with the colored party lights uniquely illuminating your face.

"I look like an idiot," you say slightly embarrassed.

"A pretty idiot."

He says back, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, careful not to ruin his initials.

"Now, what's your background going to be?" he asks you intently, watching your phone screen.

"Hum," you also focus on your screen, looking at the selfies, "This one."

You point to the picture of you kissing his cheek and he nods with his little grin. He is about to speak when a third voice makes itself heard between the two of you.

"Aemond!" exclaims Aegon, heading towards you both from a distance with a huge grin and a drink in hand, with Helaena behind him, "There's the star of the night!"

Aemond suddenly tenses up and indeed so do you. You both exchange a quick, discreet glance, where he warns you and gives you a reassuring look at the same time.

And you mentally prepare yourself to pretend and look as in love with him as possible, telling yourself that you can't fuck this up.

"Congratulations, brother!" exclaims Aegon happily, coming towards you both and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "You kicked all those fucker's' asses," he says proudly, then focusing on you, "And you must be Y/N," he adds, grinning at you.

"Hi," you smile, trying to look relaxed and not at all nervous at the sudden appearance of Aemond's siblings.

"I'm Aegon, the older brother who always leaves everyone impressed, the most handsome and intelligent of the family. Pleasure," he introduces himself, extending his hand to you and you shake it almost instantly, laughing softly.

"So he says," Aemond says next to you with an amused smile.

"A pleasure."

"He's just envious and he's already told us so much about you," he lets you know, "Oh and this is our sister, Helaena," he points behind him.

"Hi," you smile at her too.

"Hi, I finally meet you!" she says with a smile bigger than yours, extending her hand in a friendly gesture, "And honestly the handsomest of my brothers is Daeron and the smart one in the family is me."

"See?" points out Aegon to Helaena seriously and incredulously, "Another envious one."

But Helaena pays him no attention and continues to focus on you.

After the introductions, you continue talking to them, who show great interest in getting to know you without losing their friendly and playful touch towards you, they ask you questions and share some comical stories about Aemond, where the conversation flows easily, wich surprises you.

But that's exactly what makes them create a relaxed and fun atmosphere for you, making the party more bearable. Besides Aegon is extremely funny and Helaena conveys a calmness to you that totally goes with your personality, pleasing you.

"I'm excited to have someone new in the family," she says excitedly, "And if you want, we can sit together sometimes on break," she offers, getting your attention more, "I've sat with Aemond and his friends before and I know what it's like, they're frustrating."

"Hey," Aemond reproaches her hurt.

"Am I wrong?" Helaena observes you expectantly.

"Hum," you look at Aemond and then back at his sister, a little nervously, "They are frustrating but fun."

"Want one?" says Aegon to Aemond, offering him a cigarette.

"Sure."

"But yes, sure, we can eat together, I'd love to," you smile at Hel, honest.

"Great."

Aemond lights his cigarette and lets the smoke escape between his lips, then places his other arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him confidently, wanting to clearly demonstrate his supposed connection to you.

When suddenly, Aegon takes his leave, watching a group of girls walking past you with great interest.

"I'm going to get something to drink, see you in a bit," he says without even looking at you, already walking away, following the girls and disappearing into the crowd.

Aemond and Helaena roll their eyes before sharing a knowing look between them, this being so typical of Aegon, then she too takes her leave for the moment with a smile.

"I think I'll leave you two alone for now too," she says starting to walk away, "Have fun!" she exclaims before getting lost in the crowd just like Aegon.

And once you and Aemond are alone again, you both can finally relax.

"They loved you," he tells you with a small smile, taking a puff on his cigarette, "You did very well."

"Not that they were hard to be with, but now we can relax a little more," you say with a soft smile, "I really liked them. They're very nice.

Aemond nods, agreeing.

"Aegon is a idiot. He loves to have fun and all he cares about is girls, but he's still funny," you nod, "And Hel, well, sometimes she's weird... but she's really sweet and fun too."

"Yeah, I noticed," you say nodding, "And do you have another brother? Daeron?" you ask, remembering how Helaena mentioned him.

"Ah yes, he's the youngest of all," he tells you and you listen carefully, still feeling his hand around your waist, "He's at Honeyholt on exchange in high school. All of a sudden he had the idea of wanting to see another place and Mom supported him. We have family there, so they are taking care of him until he gets into college."

"Oh," you nod, now understanding, "And is he really the best looking of the three of you?" you ask amused and he smiles.

"Of course not, obviously I'm the handsomest," he says condescendingly, smugly and you laugh, "I also have a half-sister, Rhaenyra," he adds, "But she's older than all of us. She's already married, with children and focused on her own family."

You nod again, attentive and interested, keeping that information, since you had no idea.

In fact about the families is something you haven't talked to him about, well, except that you know Aegon and Helaena, but you don't know anything else like for example his father and mother.

And he doesn't know anything about yours either. You suppose it's just a matter of time to build more trust between the two of you as this goes on.

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" he asks you curiously, watching you intently and you shake your head.

"I'm an only child."

He is about to speak when, again, a third voice interrupts him.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and see one of his lacrosse friends calling from the kitchen.

"Want to play beer pong with us?"

Aemond doesn't answer him right away, as he turns his attention back to you.

"Do you want to play or do you want to talk about it?"

"Hum... the truth is I've never played beer pong," you say a little nervous and embarrassed, "And I don't want to talk about it."

"Then I'll teach you, come on, it's really easy," he says excitedly, taking you by the hand, "It'll be fun, you'll see," he tells you as he guides you towards the kitchen.

You let him guide you, and you too enter the lively atmosphere of the kitchen, where the sound of music and laughter mixes with the aroma of drinks and cigarettes. And Aemond leads you towards the beer pong table where his friends you already know are, setting everything up.

"First, you need a ball."

Aemond says, taking one from the pile on the table and placing it in your hand. And before he can speak further, you do.

"Actually I do know how to play but I've never played," you clarify, "Besides, I have really bad aim."

"No matter, just have fun," he tells you with a reassuring gaze, "And forget about everyone, the stares, the talking, Alys, everything. Let's just have a good time, okay?"

You nod, watching him a little nervously but attentively and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, making you feel a strange sensation in your body that you haven't felt before.

But you know that he has done it because you are now among his friends and other people at school, so you have to pretend very well.

Music blares in the kitchen as you and Aemond join the beer pong game and take up position at one end of the table, facing your first opponent.

Aemond still repeats the rules to you once again, but his focus is more on enjoying the moment.

You hold the ball in your hands with a mixture of nervousness, not knowing exactly why, and excitement. And Aemond next to you gives you an encouraging look.

And finally you throw the ball and to your surprise, and also delight, it lands perfectly in one of the cups on the other side of the table.

"Yes!" exclaims Aemond excitedly, with a huge smile, instantly making a high five with you, being his turn.

This definitely makes you feel more relaxed and encourages you to forget about everyone and focus on this moment with Aemond, immersing yourself in these party games you've never tried before.

Aemond continues to hug you and celebrate each successful release, accentuating your complicity so you both keep pretending. That moment of the night progresses with laughter, exchange of complicit glances and impromptu pretending moments.

And every time you suddenly feel Aemond's hands on your waist hugging you and pulling you closer to him, it makes you feel strange and weird sensations through your body, which you try not to give much importance to.

Both Aemond and you immerse yourself in the illusion of the fake relationship, taking every opportunity to enjoy each other's company.

The party continues and as you share laughter and affectionate gestures in the midst of it all, you realize that although the relationship is fake, the connection you now have with Aemond and the fun you share is real.

And when the round of beer pong is over, Aemond introduces you to more of his friends, like Qyle Martell and Cregan Stark. Martell is like Aegon, you can tell and Stark is friendlier and also very nice.

"Are you friends with Alysanne?"

He asks you curiously in the middle of the conversation, as Aemond has one arm around your waist, leaning against the kitchen island, his other hand smoking a new cigarette and you find yourself in the middle of his legs, your hands on top of his arm and hand.

"Yes," you nod to him, "We recently became close."

"I assumed so because I saw her at the game with you," he tells you with a small smile, "But, do you know if she has a boyfriend?" he asks you more curious than before, getting your attention.

You're about to speak when Aemond steps forward.

"Cregan has had a crush on her forever," he says over your head and you turn your attention back to Cregan.

"Well, she hasn't," you let him know, "She told me she recently broke up with a guy from another school."

"Really?" he looks at you hopefully, "And could you talk to her about me? You know, see what she thinks."

You smile, nodding.

"Sure."

"I wouldn't ask you but I thought she was coming to the party."

"Oh no, no, it's fine," you assure him, "I'll talk to her."

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Aemond announces suddenly, catching your attention.

He gently removes you from between his legs, standing up straight and leaving the rest of his now non-existent cigarette on the kitchen island, then watching you completely attentively.

"You can stay and talk to Cregan. I'll be back soon."

"Sure," you nod to him.

Aemond wanders off towards the second floor bathroom, already knowing that the bathroom down here always has huge lines for wanting to get in, and so you stand around talking animatedly with Cregan, mostly about Alysanne.

As Aemond slips through the crowd, up the stairs and disappears down the second floor hallway, heading for the bathroom.

Actually he doesn't take long at all and soon enough he finishes washing his hands and exits the bathroom, walking back down the hallway to return to the big party downstairs.

But just as he turns down the hallway, Alys appears in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

Aemond watches her without expression really, feeling a little surprised inside, but only ignores her and tries to walk past her, but of course, Alys immediately blocks his path.

He watches her confused and she places a small grin on her perfectly painted red lips.

"What?" he asks her, disinterested.

"Can't I talk to you? Your girlfriend already so soon set rules for you?" she inquires him too, with a look of superiority, crossing her arms.

He certainly decides to ignore most of her comment and looks at her seriously.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Once again he tries to walk past her but she blocks his path again, irritating him and making him let out a sigh.

"What do you want?" he watches her in exasperation.

"Y/N? Really?" she inquires again pouting and with disdain, making Aemond again let out another sigh, "She's your new girlfriend?"

"Yes, she is," he tells her seriously and firmly, "Do you have a problem with that?

"At least you could be able to get something halfway better than that," she says with a mixture of mockery and seriousness, "I can't believe you dated me and now you're dating her, literally a nobody," she says confused, furrowing her brow.

Aemond frowns, definitely starting to get annoyed by her attitude and the way she's talking about you.

"First, it's none of your business who I'm dating now nor do you even have the right to reproach me for that. And second, Y/N is not a 'nothing.' She is an amazing person and I will not allow you to speak of her like that."

Alys further demonstrates her mockery.

"She's amazing?" she repeats, "Please, no one here even knew her from before she started dating you. She's just another one of those pathetic boring girls who sits in the background and can't say more than three words."

Aemond clenches his jaw, watching her seriously and sternly.

"Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" she teases him, watching him defiantly, "Am I telling lies?"

"Stop talking about her like that," he warns her with determination, "And before you judge her, first see yourself in a mirror, maybe you can fully surprise yourself."

She lets out a cynical laugh.

"Oh, look at you," she coos, "You have become the advocate for shy and invisible girls. No one would have expected it from you, not even me. But I'm sure you're only dating her to annoy me."

Aemond takes a deep breath, having enough of this.

"What I do or don't do doesn't matter to you. And don't get ideas in your head either, you're the last thing on my mind. Don't think you're important, because you're not," he tells her seriously and honestly, "Now, if you don't have anything important to say to me, leave me alone and let me enjoy the night."

Alys grits her teeth, obviously frustrated at not getting the reaction she was looking for from him. And finally Aemond is able to walk past her, away from her. But before he turns and starts down the stairs, Alys stops him with her next words.

"We'll see if the shy girl still likes you that much when you see if she can fuck you well, which I doubt," she says seriously and teasingly.

Aemond purses his lips, taking a deep breath to try to keep his composure. He feels a knot in his stomach, with a mixture of disgust and frustration throughout his body.

"You're completely insane, Alys, insane."

He spits the words at her completely seriously and finally walks away from her, leaving that unpleasant conversation behind.

As he returns to the bustle of the party, he struggles to clear his mind of Alys' words, which are still present and the unpleasant feeling still lingers. And it makes him angry to know that he allowed her to manage to ruin the party for him.

Finally he enters the kitchen and you are still there, talking to Cregan and before heading towards you, he tries to put on his best possible face so that his annoyance and bitterness is not noticeable.

And after a few seconds he turns to you.

"Hey," he says with a forced smile, placing himself back next to you.

Your smile fades a little and this immediately catches your attention.

Fortunately at that moment Cregan leaves you both alone, saying he'll fix himself a new drink, so you give him your full attention, noticing the seriousness on his face that he's trying to hide.

"Everything okay?" you ask him, slightly concerned.

"Yeah," he says softly, taking your hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

"Are you sure?" you ask him, not entirely convinced, "Did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm just a little tired," he lies, "Maybe in a little longer we should go."

Aemond, despite the feeling in him that still lingers, feels that he shouldn't overwhelm you with what happened with Alys. Being here, in the middle of the party with everyone watching them, is enough for you.

He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable when everything has been going too well so far.

"Sure but... are you sure you're okay?" you insist in a soft voice, running your hand gently across his forehead, gently brushing his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry," he smiles softly at you.

He holds you against his body, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you between his body, while you look around and realize that there are still, at this point in the party, people watching you.

When then Aemond's gaze falls on all the people dancing, an idea crosses his mind.

He puts on a small amused smile and lowers his face to look you in the eyes, tracing gentle circles with his thumb on your lower back.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asks you with his smile, instantly catching your attention.

You watch him with your eyes slightly wide open and your lips parted, but not because of surprise, but because you were dreading exactly this proposal.

He points with his gaze to where everyone is dancing and you follow, seeing how there are some girls dancing alone and shaking their butts in a fantastic way, there are also couples dancing together and people in groups dancing and singing along to the songs of the moment without a care in the world.

But that's not what catches your attention.

It's the way some girls, not to say most of them, dance in a sensual, sexy way, moving their body and waist in a magnetic way, also their buttocks as if it was as easy as breathing, attracting the attention of boys and girls.

There is no way you can move your butt and body like that. You would like to, but you don't know how.

There are also couples who dance very close to each other, in a very intimate way, chest to chest. Even the guy runs his hands all over the girl's body while they dance to the music and touches her butt in front of everyone.

And that definitely horrifies you.

You know Aemond would never try to touch you like that. Doing something like that didn't enter into any part of the contract.

But you still grimace involuntarily and feel embarrassed. You immediately turn your gaze to Aemond and with a flash of sincerity, you confess.

"I don't know how to do it," you say in complete embarrassment.

You think he's going to make fun of you and you're only going to feel more embarrassed than you already are, but instead, he smiles at you with understanding gently and begins to try to convince you enthusiastically.

"Come on, don't worry about anything, it's easy," he assures you, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

He takes you by the hand gently and guides you towards the center of the house, where everyone is dancing and music is enveloping everything.

Your heart starts pounding, feeling nervous, but you still follow with a certain heaviness.

The music, the colors of the lights and the energy of all these people become a kind of bubble around you. And as you walk, you feel the gaze of some people on you, but Aemond deliberately ignores them, focused on making you feel comfortable.

And once you're both in the center of it all, surrounded by more people, you watch him with some trepidation but he confidently places his arms around your waist, hugging you but leaning back slightly so he can look you in the eye.

"Is this okay or are you uncomfortable?" he asks you attentively leaning down to speak in your ear so you can hear him over the music.

"It's fine," you nod to him, but you lick your lips and really don't even know what to do with yourself.

He glues your body to his, still watching you intently, mostly because his lips brush against the bridge of your nose and it sends an electric current inexplicably through you.

And you feel like your heart will leap out of your chest at any moment from such closeness.

"And this is okay?"

You swallow hard and nod, unable to speak for all the sensations overwhelming you in that instant.

"Now you put your hands around my neck," he tells you as he takes your hands and places them himself where he directs you, then puts his hands back on your waist.

Again you bite your lips, while avoiding looking him too much in the eye, nervous and still not having the slightest idea what to do, but you stay like that, already feeling more the sorrow that maybe he can feel your accelerated heart rate.

"And now we dance, no choreography or specific moves... we just move," he says in your ear softly but loud enough for you to hear.

And just then you turn your attention to the song; One Of The Girls by Lily-Rose Deep, Jennie and The Weeknd.

Oh Gods.

"It's very simple, just sway your hips back and forth to the beat of the song."

You avert your gaze, feeling the awkwardness grow inside you, because you really don't know how to do this. Yet you force yourself to stay in the moment and do this, because it's no big deal, it's just dancing.

"Like this," he says, moving your hips with his hands gently from side to side, guiding your movements patiently, just as he moves his body slowly in sync with yours.

The song swells loudly in the background, creating an intimate atmosphere between him and you. And carefully, you begin to follow the rhythm, letting your hips sway to the music.

And honestly... you just get uncomfortable and barely more so, feeling completely awkward.

"Am I doing this right?" you ask fearfully, already knowing the answer.

"Easy, you're doing excellent," he assures you, "Just let yourself go," he says in your ear, his voice soft and encouraging.

Hearing his comforting words, you strain to relax, letting the melody envelop your senses, as Aemond looks at you with a reassuring smile, encouraging you.

And with his confidence and also his comforting presence, he makes you start to forget about everyone around you and focus on this moment, on him.

And with every movement you let yourself go with the rhythm of the music, as you both move in sync and the tension you felt before seems to dissipate with every second. Especially since some funny gestures from him during the dance make you relax more.

"See? It's not hard."

He tells you as he makes you both move with more rhythm, keeping his hand on your waist and the other on your lower back, not going any further, where every movement makes your body rub against his.

"You're even better at this than me," he mentions amused and you laugh softly.

"Don't be a liar," you tell him watching intently between your body and his, afraid of getting it wrong and missing a beat.

He maintains his grin and your eyes meet his, sharing complicity and amusement. And he encouraging you to let loose even more.

And only then do you start to really enjoy the dance, because you realize that you're probably not the only one who feels a little out of place, besides no one is even paying attention to you.

All the people here are enjoying the music in their own ways. So with each step, you become more immersed in the moment, forgetting the stares of others and remembering that you're also pretending with Aemond, so you stick a little more towards him, if possible.

"Yes, just like that," he says in your ear, his voice soft and soothing, "Alys is watching us."

He says as he glances out of the corner of his eye toward the entrance to the kitchen, where Alys is leaning against the wall.

And you discreetly look around for her, finding her and seeing the surprise and disbelief in her gaze as she watches the two of you, pursing her lips, looking clearly annoyed and even... indignant.

Immediately the look on Alys' face makes you feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, but you decide that won't distract you and don't pay too much attention to her, preferring to focus on the moment.

With each movement, you feel more in tune with the music and with Aemond next to you, who brings his forehead together with yours, sharing a moment of complicity as they continue to move to the rhythm of the music.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He says suddenly and you instantly feel tense and nervous again. But you understand why he wants to do it, clearly because she's watching right now.

"Okay," you say swallowing hard, having no idea if he even heard you over the music.

When he separates a little, just a little from you, still keeping one of his hands on your waist while with the other he gently places it on your right cheek, sliding his fingers across your soft skin.

Your gaze meets his, where there is a new lightness of silent complicity but in a more intense way that you can't quite describe.

His gaze is totally determined and even makes you feel nervous immediately, where not only his eye inspects your face, but also your parted lips just centimeters below his, this drawing more than anything else his attention.

This does not go unnoticed by you and you feel more nerves in your stomach, but when he leans forward, closing the short distance between the two of you, you tell yourself that you must be pretending just as well as he is.

You both close your eyes and the brushing of lips is soft and hesitant, where a barely audible sigh escapes your lips as you too let the overwhelming feeling of having to kiss Aemond in front of all these people.

The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears as his lips finally catch yours in a soft kiss.

You think it will be like the first time, just the contact of lips against lips, but Aemond literally moves his mouth, really starts kissing you, caressing his lips with yours... and you unexpectedly and instantly follow him.

Surprised and completely unsure, you feel Aemond take a firmer hold of your waist and deepen the kiss, while you try not to gasp into his lips and let yourself be carried along by his movements.

For you, each movement of his lips is like a new melody, awakening a surge of emotions that take your breath away.

This is completely new to you.

It is completely different from the first time you both kissed.

Your hands instinctively cling to his shoulders, seeking support amidst the whirlwind of sensations that engulf you, unable to help but feel a pang of surprise as you feel the softness of his lips against yours.

And though you are both pretending, both you and he let your own emotions mix with it.

Aemond continues to tenderly caress your soft skin with his thumb as he tilts his head and latches onto your lips once more, slow and deep, letting you feel everything.

His hand slides deftly down your neck and tangles in your hair, drawing you closer to him in an intimate, passionate gesture. And though you can't help it, everything about him envelops you.

You feel every detail, his comforting closeness, the smell of his cologne, so manly, the cigarette taste in his mouth that somehow you don't dislike at all and the way he is holding you against his body.

And finally when you are both out of breath, you separate and silence fills the space between you, broken only by the distant sound of music and the racing beat of your hearts.

Your gaze again meets his and strangely you find yourself lost in him, with an unspoken question hanging in the air as you both process what has just happened.

When he smiles softly, as if he is complicit in a secret shared between the two of you, which he is and leaves another soft kiss on your lips before continuing to dance with you, wrapping his arms around you confidently and firmly.

You again let yourself be carried away by the music, wrapping your arms around his neck again, with a question in mind:

What the fuck just happened?

Then, in the middle of the dance, Aemond again whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I think that went very well," he murmurs knowingly, "Alys keeps looking at us."

And then reality comes back into your mind.

Oh... right.

Reality comes back to you like a sudden blow, reminding you of Alys' presence and why you made out with Aemond like that, leaving the magic or spell of the moment.

You try to keep your composure, as if the kiss hadn't affected you in the slightest, but deep inside you know that's not true.

You try in vain to ignore the feeling of discomfort and surprise that creeps up inside you as you continue to dance with Aemond. Each movement seems stiffer, the music sounds louder and the weight of the kiss suddenly weighs on your shoulders.

Although you try to maintain the appearance of normalcy, Aemond seems to notice your change in attitude and looks at you intently, his brow slightly furrowed.

And despite your attempt to keep your face serene and completely unconcerned, he can still see the tension building up in your expression.

So finally, Aemond breaks the silence that hangs in the tension-laden air.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The question instantly catches your attention, but first you focus entirely on him.

"Don't you want to stay a while longer?"

"We've done enough and besides... I'd like to go get some rest."

"Okay, yeah, sure," you say in a soft voice, starting to pull away from him.

Aemond offers you a comforting smile before taking you by the hand and leading you towards the door, but not before saying goodbye to his friends and warning his siblings, who he asks if they will go home with him, but Aegon is still enjoying himself and so is Helaena.

The cool night air envelops you as you leave the house, bringing with it a feeling of relief and release. And as you walk away along with Aemond, you feel the tension slowly dissipate, giving way to a feeling of peace and tranquility.

But there is still that uneasiness and uncertainty within you.

The sunlight enters through the kitchen windows, while you finish placing your breakfast on the table and your father's too, starting a new week.

Normally on Mondays your father comes in a little later to work and taking advantage of his free time, he always drives you to school, so early in the morning you text Aemond that you don't need him to pick you up and that you'll see him at school.

At first you and your father talk about anything between scrambled eggs and sips of coffee, when suddenly the conversation takes a serious turn when your father mentions college, your future.

"Have you applied for college entrance exams yet?" he asks you, with a look of slight concern on his face, "I understand the application season is almost over."

Instantly you feel a knot in your stomach and involuntarily tense up, nervous.

"Yes, Dad," you reply in your slightly shaky voice, trying to hide it," I already have."

"Very good," he nods at you with a small smile, "Just make sure you're aware of all the deadlines and requirements. This is important and who knows...maybe you can get into Oldtown."

God.

This makes you even more nervous, but you tell yourself that you trust Aemond completely and that he is handling your direct application to Oldtown.

You haven't talked to him about it but that's what he's surely been doing, he has to. He promised to deliver on this if you fulfill your role as a girlfriend in love so he must already be doing it.

So you feel confident that everything will work out.

Again you nod in your father's direction and both of you resume breakfast, while you think that you have Aemond totally on your side in this.

Breakfast doesn't last any longer and soon your father is already dropping you off at the school parking lot. You kiss each other on the cheek, wish each other good day and finally get out of the car.

Both the hallways and the parking lot are flooded with students as you try to weave your way through them to get to your locker, hoping to run into Alysanne soon.

But instead you see Aemond who is engaged in a lively conversation with his friends at the lockers. And you don't know exactly why but seeing him immediately makes your nerves explode.

Since that kiss on Friday, neither you nor he has talked about it. He only drove you home after the party was over for him and you, where neither of you made a comment about it.

And honestly... you still feel a little weird about it.

You mean, you've never made out with him like that before, or with anyone else. And that's why you haven't stopped thinking about it, but you don't want to talk about it either, you feel it will be awkward.

And you don't need to turn to him and talk to him for him to notice you, as unconsciously his gaze meets yours as he laughs at a comment from one of his friends.

And he instantly says goodbye to his friends to head towards you with a small grin on his lips, which you return to him from a distance, until you both close the distance.

"Hi."

"Hey," he says to then unexpectedly drop a soft, quick kiss on your lips.

You remain static for a moment, as you're never really going to get used to this.

"Everyone's watching us," he says quietly to you in a discreet manner as he places one of his arms around your shoulder and begins to walk together with you down the hallway, "So, your dad drove you today?"

You nod as you both walk down the hallway together, where admittedly, you notice how some people are still watching you as you pass, but with Aemond's closeness, you are comforted.

"Yes, he did."

And as the two of them approach your locker, a nervousness begins to grow in your chest and stomach.

You hesitate for a moment before you renew enough courage to ask Aemond what you want to know, with the question hovering constantly in the back of your mind, ever since breakfast.

And releasing a long breath, you dare to speak.

"Are you already working on my college application?"

You immediately regret it, but what can you really do? He's already heard you.

Aemond's eye reflects surprise for a moment before a more serene expression settles on his face.

"Why do you ask?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling a bit awkward at the revelation of your concerns.

"N-no, it's just... I had a conversation with my dad about it, and I just wanted to know, that's all," you explain, hoping you don't sound too anxious.

"Well, don't worry about it, I've got it under control," he assures you with his reassuring look, when he quickly changes the subject, "And listen, I've got training now, so I've got to get to the field already but I'll see you in class later, okay?"

You say nothing, he doesn't give you the time, as he gently this time leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and walks away, leaving you with your heart beating fast and a mix of emotions that leave you reflective.

And then throughout the school day, you meet Aemond at various times during the day and each time, he is there for you. And the next few days too.

You walk to class together, share laughs at lunch or just in the hallways, as well as Aemond always pretends and proves to be an attentive and gentlemanly 'boyfriend' in the eyes of others.

Every affectionate gesture from him to you, from his gentle kisses to his warm hugs or holding your hand, even to post new photos together to the social, is perceived as genuine and affectionate.

And to you, each of these acts is just a facade, a role you're both playing to keep up appearances in front of others. And you remind yourself that these gestures mean nothing, other than to pretend.

But despite your attempts to keep yourself emotionally distant, you couldn't help but feel touched and to some extent 'special' by the way Aemond treats you.

It's like acting in a movie and being actors playing a couple in love, but you wonder; how come in real life actors don't fall in love for real?

And every time Aemond gives you too much attention and treats you like a boyfriend should treat his girlfriend, a little part of you starts to fear that these gestures might start to be more than just acting for you.

But you know you can't get confused and you can't get your hopes up foolishly. You also tell yourself that you can't let your feelings get complicated now, because it's not the right thing to do.

But still you fear that maybe you might mistake his actions for something real, when you shouldn't.

taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n

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emphasisonthehomo · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! I really loved misperception and I saw that you take requests. Can I please please get some of Tommy and Ryan talking about the dj situationship? 🥺

Thank you so much!!!

The fic in question!

Not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but here we are!

•

A lime green Lamborghini Aventador purrs into the parking lot. Tommy’s not sure which specific model it is, but it looks like a roadster. It’s… exquisite. The wrap job has an iridescence to it and the windows are tinted illegally dark. Tommy hops out of his truck and shamelessly snaps a few pictures as it rolls to a stop diagonally across two parking spaces. People who drive cars like this do it for attention, he’s not going to apologize for giving it to them. Damn.

He wonders why the hell there’s a fucking Lamborghini at Harbor, and then decides it probably doesn’t matter. LA is filled with people that drive exotic cars into benign places for no reason other than they have the money for it. Tommy changes his mind almost immediately however, when the passenger door opens and Ryan unfolds himself out of the car.

Tommy whistles.

“Nice ride, kid,” He calls out, walking over.

Ryan looks embarrassed but pleased, and wiggles his fingers in Tommy’s direction just as the engine shuts off. Someone Tommy doesn’t recognize gets out of the driver’s side. He’s blond, wearing a large pair of mirrored sunglasses and a too tight t-shirt with a logo splashed across the front.

“Hi Tommy,” Ryan says, “This is my… friend. Karl. Karl this is Tommy, my co-worker I was telling you about.”

Oh. Ryan’s DJ. If Tommy had bothered to envision how Karl might look, it’d be exactly this. Standoffish and ostentatiously wealthy. Tommy hasn’t heard much about Karl that he likes, but there’s no reason to be rude.

“Nice to meet you,” Tommy says politely, reaching out to shake Karl’s hand.

“Likewise,” Karl says, as he shakes Tommy’s hand firmly, “Ryan says you’re working with him during his probationary period.”

Karl’s veneers are unnervingly bright and white, and he speaks in a low and slightly accented voice.

“Yeah. Ryan’s great, we’re lucky to have him.” Tommy says, before giving into his curiosity and turning to look at the gleaming car next to them, “Nice car man.”

“Thank you,” Karl says, before adding unnecessarily, “It’s a Lamborghini.”

“An Aventador,” Tommy replies smoothly, nodding as he blatantly stares, “What year? 2017? 2016?”

Karl’s smile falters for a split second.

“2016,” He says after a beat.

Between them Ryan purses his lips.

“Whoever did the wrap did a good job,” Tommy says, “Was this done at a local shop?”

Tommy generally prefers a coat of paint over a wrap when it comes to his own project cars, but he can’t deny excellent work when he sees it.

“…No.” Karl says simply, before turning his attention to Ryan, “I’ll see you later darling, have a nice day at work.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Tommy says, respectfully turning away and starting to walk towards the front door.

Whenever he and Evan say goodbye it tends to involve a lot of tongue, even when they’re taking each other to work. Sometimes especially when they’re taking each other to work. Once Tommy had dropped Evan off at the 118, and after the fact Hen had sent him a text informing him that they’d sucked face for five solid minutes before Evan had gone inside.

It's because of this that Tommy is shocked when Ryan is shoulder to shoulder with him a few seconds later.

“So, your ‘friend’ is back in town?” Tommy asks, as they head towards the hangar, “For how long?”

“At least a month,” Ryan says with a smug smile, “He was in Europe for a while.”

“Festival summer,” Tommy nods, “Good for him.”

Behind them the car’s engine revs loudly. Tommy can’t resist turning around to watch as Karl peels out of the parking lot, leaving a wide skidmark on the asphalt. He’s driving way too fast.

“Did you tell him about the speed trap the cops like to set up a few miles down the road?” Tommy asks curiously.

“No,” Ryan says shortly, “He was late getting up this morning, and didn’t take me through Dutch Bros like he promised.”

The intricacies of their relationship, and frankly the appeal of it, is completely beyond Tommy. Karl isn’t even that good looking, and from what Ryan says, he’s also extremely petty. As if reading Tommy’s mind, Ryan continues talking.

“He has his charms,” Ryan says haughtily.

“You two going shopping later?” Tommy asks dryly.

Ryan laughs, long and loud, and then nods excitedly.

“I am going to get a new watch this weekend.”

#aron's fic #911 #bucktommy #misperception #(well minimal bucktommy in this snippet but within the larger fic or whatever yes)#anyways ryan and his dj and their risk aware consensual toxic situationship

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jishyucks · 1 year ago

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Gleam and Glitter — hhj

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

‣ wc: 3.4k

‣ summary: You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

‣ warnings: lots of being annoyed at the rich (even though reader and hyunjin are rich), 1st world problems, reader’s wearing a dress and heels but no specific pronouns are used (I’m pretty sure), the pair eat some desserts

‣ an: 2nd part for my True Love Gave to Me Series! It's a little slow at first but the parts near the end are cute! Just like the Mark one, I wish I could write more for these two, I srsly think I could've done more but still,,, ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

The venue was beautiful.

The ballroom was transformed into the party’s theme, Winter Wonderland, adorned with white, silver, and royal blue decorations. From the ceiling hung giant snowflakes, lit up with twinkling lights that glowed softly within the dim room.

The dance floor, placed in the middle of the room, was surrounded by tables draped in pearly white table cloths, giving it all a sleek, clean look. You can tell how much planning had gone into the centrepieces—delicate ice-looking glass sculptures of various animals. Within each of them were more lights, drawing out the details of the sculptures.

At the other corner of the room, the live band had already begun their setlist. They were dressed in blue or white, or both, as it was the theme of the party. You couldn’t quite tell what song they were playing, but it sounded nice and classy.

And guests were trickling in, entering the room hand in hand with their plus ones. You can tell that they were all in awe from the scene. I mean you don’t blame them—the scene looked like something straight from a movie. Whoever had planned and decorated the venue knew what they were doing.

The venue was beautiful… Too bad most of the people attending were snobby rich bitches who really don’t deserve anything good (respectfully).

The main purpose of the event was to raise money for charities involving children for god’s sake—sure it was okay to go all out and grab the attention of the wealthy, but it was so painfully obvious that two-thirds of the guests didn’t give a single fuck about the charities. They were just there for the publicity, hoping to look good in front of the press and it pained you.

It pained you because, although you barely had the capacity to have passions for anything, you did know that you wanted to use your money for good. And heavy on the good for children.

The party was now in full swing, guests mingling in practically every corner of the room. The live band had just been replaced with a DJ, party songs blasting through the speakers. A small part of you does want to join in, but you wouldn’t say that you associated yourself with any of the people here.

There was one person who you did love being around—your best friend, Hyunjin—but you simply weren’t sure where he had disappeared off to since you had greeted him at the start of the party.

“Shit.”

You’re not sure how you hear Hyunjin groan as he slumps in the seat next to you. He stretches his back over the chair before falling limp.

You can’t help but laugh, “What’s up with you?” You shift in your own chair to look at him, your blue evening gown getting twisted underneath your ass.

“My parents introduced me to like—I don’t know—six old business owners?” Hyunjin mutters, “I don’t even remember a single one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start working on that future CEO,” you joke, slapping his back, “Don’t wanna be the boss who calls his employees by the wrong name, do you?” You know Hyunjin hates when you call him future CEO, because, well, he doesn’t actually want to take over his father’s company once he retires. But being the only child in his family, it’s a responsibility that he couldn’t really get out of.

“No,” he pouts, lips jutting out.

You let out another laugh, this time rubbing his back to provide some kind of comfort. From a nearby group of people, you hear people laughing, though it didn’t seem genuine. You echo them.

“Y/N, they’re gonna hear you!” Hyunjin nudges your arm. “No they won’t. They’re all just caught up in their own world,” You roll your eyes. Then you dramatically say, “Oh how I wish to leave this place.”

There’s a few beats of silence between the two of you. Just by watching Hyunjin, you can tell he’s thinking, eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading a page of a newspaper.

“Would it be crazy if I asked you to run away with me?”

Your heart misses a beat, “What?”

“Run away with me,” Hyunjin repeats. He’s almost expressionless, staring back at you as he waits for a reply.

You blink at your best friend, utterly confused by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “Hyunjin, you really need to be more specific with your words.”

Hyunjin brings a corner of his mouth up towards one side of his face, trying to word what he was asking of you. It wasn’t that difficult to explain, yet Hyunjin’s short on words right now because of all the introductions he’s just had.

“Do you know what an Irish goodbye is?”

You shake your head, “No? Is that even a thing?”

“It’s when you just leave without telling anyone,” Hyunjin explains, “So… let’s leave without telling anyone.” There’s a youthful glint in his eye and you just know that Hyunjin’s ready to take off. He’s excited, even, just thinking about leaving and getting away from this place. You like the idea, too.

“And do what?” Hyunjin shrugs and your face contorts, laughing, “You’re the one who’s suggesting to leave and you don’t have a plan?”

The smile Hyunjin flashes is one that shows off his bottom teeth, brows raised and eyes widened, “Sorry, I didn’t actually think you’d consider it.”

“Do you even know me?” you scoff, “Of course I wanna leave. Anything to get away from these people.” You scoot forward in anticipation to go, but you still really want to hear what Hyunjin’s plan is.

Hyunjin searches the room as if it were going to hand him the answer. Then he hums and looks back at you, “Do you want to go downtown?”

Without any hesitation you nod, “Yes.”

Hyunijn watches as you scan the room, eyes trying to weed out your parents and his. You could guess they were speaking with people you’ve grown familiar with, so you try to pick them out, too. When you couldn’t spot any of your parents, your eyes darted in Hyunjin’s direction, eyes wide and round. “It’s clear.”

You don’t warn Hyunjin before you shoot up onto your feet, trying your best to keep discrete from any wandering eyes. The heels under your feet almost fail to support your pace, but you pay no mind, eyes dead set on the doorway furthest away from anyone’s attention. Hyunjin’s close at your tail, turning back every few steps to make sure that there was absolutely no one watching you both leave.

The adrenaline’s causing your heart to pump above the average, and you can’t help but let out a laugh the moment you reach the door, soon finding yourself in an empty corridor of the venue (save for the doorman at the front and the woman attending coat check).

Hyunjin stumbles out after you, breathing heavily, “You didn’t even tell me you were going to take off like that!”

Ignoring Hyunjin’s exclamations, you start making your way toward coat check, heels clicking against the marble floor. Hyunjin is unsure how you’re moving so quickly in heels, but he chooses not to question you.

“Y/N~” Hyunjin whines, “Slow down!”

“If we’re not quick we’re going to get caught,” you shoot a reply over your shoulder. You kindly ask for your coats, retrieving them within seconds before you toss Hyunjin his jacket. “Yeah, but we need to wait for Mr. Jang to come pick us up!”

By the time Hyunjin finishes his sentence, you both find yourselves outside of the venue, cold air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. There were cars whizzing past, all probably on their way to your desired destination. Right at the bottom of the steps was a sleek black car, similar to what your family owned, and a man who you recognized as Mr. Jang, the Hwang’s driver.

“So you did plan this!” you look over at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, but Mr. Jang will jump at any chance to actually do something.” The boy leads you down the steps and reaches the vehicle before you do. He greets Mr. Jang with a bow and then tugs on the door’s handle, opening it for you to hop in. You can’t help but giggle at the gesture, giving Hyunjin a look before sliding in. He shuffles in after you, smiling out of excitement.

“Where to, son?”

“Downtown, please.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s when you both get to downtown that you realize that neither of you knew where to go.

Sure, the plan was downtown but the city was a big place. Hyunjin should have been more specific, because right now, you were both standing in the middle of a busy street trying to decide which direction to go.

“Close your eyes, spin, and then stop when I tell you,” you suggest to Hyunjin, who’s trying to search his phone for any places you both could visit.

“How about you do it!” Hyunjin’s brows furrow and he pouts, “It sounds like you’re going to ditch me.”

“Now why the hell would I ditch you,” you sigh, “Just do it. I would do it, but I’m in heels.”

You gesture for him to go on with the action, but not before he mutters a ‘the heels didn’t seem like a problem earlier’, earning him a thwack on his shoulder.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hyunjin sticks an arm out, using his index finger to point. Then, he begins to spin clockwise. From an outsider’s glance, this man probably looked ridiculous—he was dressed in formal attire and spinning like a top, almost taking out a few passerbyers in the process.

You were finding this so amusing that you almost forgot that you had to tell him to stop.

And when you tell Hyunjin to stop, he somehow ends up with his finger just inches away from your nose. You burst out laughing, your hands coming up to clutch your stomach because, for one, Hyunjin took the challenge seriously, and two, he looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there eyes closed and pointing.

You don’t notice how Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open to see what was going on and how his taut expression relaxes the second they land on your bright figure just laughing, even if it is at his expense. His arm drops to his side, making a muted whap against his jacket. This catches your attention.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping a tear that has managed to slip out of the corner of your eye. And when Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, you take a step closer to him, “Hello?”

“O-okay, so, that way!” Hyunjin’s brought back from space, head shaking. He side steps and walks around you, leading the way down the street while making sure you were following him.

Hyunjin has no idea what just happened. It wasn’t like it was the first time he's seen you happy. In fact, you’ve always been happy around him. So, why did he suddenly freeze seeing you happy this time?

Hyunjin shakes the thought out of his head, dismissing it as the remnants of wine from the party still in his system, and continues walking down the street, just a few paces in front of you.

You and Hyunjin weave through the people walking down the street against you, hands full with shopping bags or stuffed deep into their pockets. The pace Hyunjin had taken began to speed up, as if he had spotted something over the crowd that you couldn’t quite see even with heels.

Glancing back, Hyunjin gently latches onto your wrist, afraid that you’d get lost in the sea of people, pulling you closer before he continues to step through the occasional gaps between bodies.

“Where are we going?” you say out of curiosity. Hyunjin’s too occupied to answer you, still keeping his grasp firm around your wrist. He tugs you along for one more block, and by then you can tell that he did have an idea of where you were. Hyunjin knew where to go.

You feel like you’re able to breathe again when Hyunjin leads you into a plaza, and you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. There was more space for people to walk around, buskers at each corner of the opening, and restaurants decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. Some places were blasting Christmas tunes out of outdoor speakers and, from afar, you can see Santa Claus taking pictures with children. You feel your heart fill with warmth in the atmosphere, excited to wander around and kill time with Hyunjin.

“Do you want to eat something?” Hyunjin questions. The boy halts in front of a food truck, head falling back to scan the menu. The food truck was a dessert truck—candied fruit, ice cream, cake pops, and more. You can see that they also sold drinks.

You nod, “What are you getting?”

“I’m thinking a cake pop… you?” The line shifts forward and you both take a step forward to follow.

You hum and try to decide on your own treat, “Can you get me candied strawberries, please?”

It takes a little bit to reach the front of the line and finally receive your food. When the man on the truck hands Hyunjin the food, you go to grab it but Hyunjin refuses to let you take it, pulling the treats back to his own body. “Huh?” you frown, “Do you want me to pay you back or something?” Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of the tanghulu. It was almost unrealistically red, like strawberries you’d find in cartoons.

“It’s cold,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “You can keep your hands in your pockets… I’ll hold it for you.” Then he holds the stick up to your lips, “Here.”

Your brows furrow and you groan, “Hyunjin, I’m capable of holding it myself, you know.” You’re quick to grab the stick from Hyunjin and give him a look, “But thanks anyway.”

Hyunjin grins, "Alright, suit yourself." He takes a bite of his cake pop as you enjoy the sweetness of the candied strawberries. The plaza is filled with a festive atmosphere, and you decide to stroll the rest of the area while munching on the treats.

By the time you were halfway finished with your food, you had been able to properly take in the scene of the plaza. It was actually much larger than it was at first sight, the area stretching down another block or two of buildings. It extended into a wide pedestrian mall, with shops busy on either side of the broad walkway.

Everyone there looked happy, like characters in the background of a movie. They minded their own business, stopping to watch the street performers entertain the passerbyers, or taking impromptu stops at the local shops lined up along the mall.

And though it did seem like such a first world problem for you to want to experience this without the stress that your parents constantly impose onto you to run a company, you like to think that your feelings still count. Even just a little.

“Look over there,” Hyunjin speaks up. He’s pointing further down the road and into a smaller plaza. There were people skating on a small, man-made, ice rink.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you when you take notice of the gigantic Christmas tree sitting off to the side of the rink. It had been strung from top to bottom in lights that occasionally changed colours. Ornaments decorated the tree with large ornaments, accented with ribbons and garland.

It was beautiful.

It was beautiful and you wanted to go get a better look at it.

Leaving Hyunjin’s side, you begin walking ahead of him, long forgetting the tanghulu in your hand. And just like earlier, Hyunjin calls for you to slow down, mainly because you were charging through the crowd with a pointy skewer, but also because he cannot catch up. You paid no mind to his attempts to slow you down. You were already dead set on catching a closer glimpse of that tree.

Hyunjin reaches you when you finally choose to stop. Your head falls back to look at the tree from its topper to its base, mouth falling open in awe, “Tell me why I’ve never seen this before.” Then you turn to look at Hyunjin, who’s looking at the tree himself, “How do you think they decorated it?”

Hyunjin lets out a laugh in the form of air shooting out his nose, “Cause all we know is work and school and business. I guess we never really have the time to enjoy these things, do we?” Then he thinks up a clever answer for your second question, but fails, “And honestly, I don’t know. Maybe one of those man lifts?”

“You’re right,” you laugh, “We need to Irish Goodbye more often if it means we get to see more things like this.” You glance around the area and find a bench nearby. Wordlessly, you grab onto Hyunjin’s sleeve and tug him along to sit.

You can feel how cool the metal bench is through your dress, but you lean back anyways, continuing to admire the Christmas tree. It was weird because you were feeling this sort of delight growing in your chest just at the sight of the decorated tree, though if you were asked what you were feeling you wouldn’t be able to put words to it. It was like the cherry on top of the sundae, perfectly fitting the ambience of everything that you and Hyunjin have seen tonight.

And for Hyunjin, sure the tree and the lights strung up all over the plaza were beautiful, but he was having a hard time keeping his attention on them, and instead kept taking glances your way. It was probably the fact that this happiness was different than the ones he’s seen before. It was like your inner child had jumped out, eyes filled with all the galaxies the universe held.

The corners of his lips had stretched at the slightest, eyes following in pursuit.

Hyunjin realizes now that if you were happy, he was happy. And he’d do anything to make it happen.

But he wouldn’t admit that to you just yet.

Or anyone.

It was enough for now that he had admitted it to himself.

Feeling eyes on you, you catch Hyunjin looking at you, expression soft. "What's up with that look?" you tease, your eyes narrowing. You lean over and nudge his arm with your shoulder.

Hyunjin feels heat rush to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of ears. He hopes that you don’t notice, “It’s nothing… just thinking about how we should actually do this more often.” Hyunjin pries his eyes away from you and forces himself to look at the tree which, frankly, wasn’t as pretty as you.

“We should…” you nod, “This is way better than the gala.”

Hyunjin agrees silently.

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence, just taking in the environment. It wasn’t everyday that you both got freedom like this and it was nice. And you can tell that Hyunjin felt the same.

Before you finally go to speak up after a while, your phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, your heart rate shoots up when you see it's your parents at the other end of the line. You quickly answer it to not cause suspicion, already sensing the concern in their voices.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, sweetheart, where are you?" your mom asks. You could hear your father’s voice saying something in the background, followed by another man’s voice.

"I’m still at the venue," you lie, "I just needed to get air. Why?"

“We found the owner of—” You roll your eyes. Of course.

“I’ll be right there, mom,” you say flatly, “Bye.” And you hang up.

“So?” Hyunjin questions. You notice that he had shifted in his seat to look at you, “What did she say?” He didn’t want to get you in trouble.

“She was talking about the owner of some company,” you shrug, “But that means we have to go.”

You stand up and take one last look at the tree before you have to drag yourself back into your own reality. It was good while it lasted.

Hyunjin frowns at your expression and gently takes your hand in his, “I’ll take you back here soon.”

You smile, eyes lighting up at the thought of coming back here again (and in much more comfortable clothes, too). “Promise?”

Hyunjin’s glad to see the joy instantly return to your previously deflating figure and nods.

“Promise.”

an: Thank you soso much for reading! Pls stay tuned for the upcoming members!

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #my skz writings #my writings

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