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thischarmingmandalorian · 5 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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vanillawurld · 6 months ago

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༊*·˚ 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 · 5 months ago

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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 005 (PART 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

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

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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

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

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roosterforme · 1 year 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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lovers-in-love-around-the-world · 2 years ago

Text

Sitting on TR laps

Warning: cursing, pet names, affection, dirty talk but not describe

Pairing: baji x reader, Mikey x reader, ran x reader, Rindou x reader, kazutora x reader, chifuyu x reader, Draken x reader, izana x reader, kakucho x reader

Baji

Loves when you are on lap when he is playing games with Chifuyu.

While he plays he will gives you a few kisses on your head.

He will also make sure before he starts playing that you are comfortable and that you have everything that you need.

Now if he losses he groan and slam his controller, poor controller, on the table and wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly.

He holds you like you are a dang stuff animal.

He also curses loudly so if you trying to take a nap probably not the best time. Now if he sees that you are really tired he will try his best to be quiet so you could sleep.

He will also playing with the ends of your hair or have you play with his hair. Either one he doesn't mind. He loves both.

Mikey

Mikey is a little difficult. I mean it matter which one you are talking about. So we are going to go through all four.

Toman Mikey:

he is the one on the lap. Sorry sweetheart but this man loves being on your lap other than the other way around.

He loves being on your lap whenever he can. As long as you allow him too.

The only time he would let you on his lap would be when it's nap time and he wants to be the big spoon and not the little spoon.

Black hair Mikey:

Your on his lap. But not that much. I mean it's whenever he really feels like it.

This is normally on days that he is having bad days and wants to hold something close. That just happens to be you on his lap.

Kanto Mikey:

He is not really on either. He doesn't like being on your lap and you on his lap.

But he loves having you beside him with his arm around you or you between his legs with his arms around your waist, which only happens when you guys are alone.

Bonten Mikey:

He loves you on his lap. He won't show it but if you walk past him he will just grab you and pull you down on his lap.

If you arent on his lap that surprising.

When you are on his lap he normally has his head in your neck or shoulder.

Ran

I feel like Ran is kinda someone who likes you on his lap but doesn't really have you on his lap a lot.

But he will pull you down on his lap if he wants or if he just wants to embarrass you. Specially if you guys are in public and you are with your friends or his.

Now if you are his lap because he wants to make you embarrassed he will start whispering things in your ear, trying to get you more flustered so then people have to ask if your okay.

Now if it's just him wanting you there well then he will play with you hair as he looks at you face. He won't say anything but he might give you a few kisses here and there but that's kinda it.

(Sorry if this one isnt like him the most!)

Rindou

He doesn't like you on his lap in public. No matter what reason. That it just a no for him. He likes giving you affection in private.

He loves it when he making a beat with his DJ set. While he has you on your lap and your listening to it and telling him how well it is or if something should be added or anything like that.

He sometimes thinks because you guys do this it makes his love you just a bit more.

After some times of this he might stop here and there and pecks you neck or jaw or cheek and continue acting like he didn't just give you a little kissy kiss.

Kazutora

So kazutora. Well it kinda matters his day. Now he isn't like toman Mikey where he likes being on your lap but if he is having a day where he wants to be hold he will just lay on you instead.

But if he is having a day where he wants to hold you or something he doesn't mind you sitting on him.

Loves it when you are on his lap and plays with hair or earring. He also loves it when you give his kisses on his face and tells him how much he loves you.

But don't think he won't tell you how much he loves you back. He will with a small blush on his face while he tells you.

Chifuyu

He loves when you both are reading his manga and you are sitting on his lap. But he also loves sitting on your lap too, making sure not to put to much weight on you to hurt you or anything.

he isn't like someone who always wants you on his lap. I feel like with him it might be a here and there.

That's because normally he will have you laying onto of him instead.

He is normally a blush mess no matter how many times you guys did this.

Draken

This boy here now. He normally does it when you both are at home. That could be either eating, sleeping, watching tv. Anything really and he would sometimes just pick you up and set you on his lap and hold you.

This does normally happen when you guys are watching tv. He just likes having you on his lap while he will say something about the show and how stupid the characters are and things.

He would sometimes look at you and moves a piece of hair out of his way from seeing your beautiful face.

Izana

Izana.....

I see him more like asking you to sit on his lap or just pulling you on it and you have no say in anything.

He will pecks your face, jaw, neck, chest. Really anything he can reach.

I see him loving having you on his lap.

Poor kakucho gets to see this first hand since he is izana's best friend so he is normally there while this happens.

Man doesn't care if it's in public. Now if you whisper that someone is staring or anything he will just death stare the person before going back to doing it.

Kakucho

He has thought a lot of you sitting on his lap but won't say anything. He just doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

Now if you ask if you can he will respond with a fast yea and with a blush on his face.

When you do sit on his lap he is so nervous, he will get over it after a few times and things. He wont know what to do with his arms and you would have to help him.

He will get used to it later and would overcome his nervousness it just will take a bit. Just give him time. He will come around and will end up asking you sometimes.

But instead of asking if you want to sit with him or on his lap he will ask if you want to cuddle and cuddles means sitting on his lap.

2K notes · View notes

neptuneiris · 10 months 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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jishyucks · 1 year ago

Text

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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mangowillow · 1 year ago

Text

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person?

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead.

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?”

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night.

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen.

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than.

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you.

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…”

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond.

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.”

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.”

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated.

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights.

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul.

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him.

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond.

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles.

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio.

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away.

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #woosung x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook divorce au #jungkook fanfic #childhood friends #divorce au #mwillow: last to know

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writerofadream · 11 months ago

Text

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Twelve: Bubbling up

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby.

"Todays challenge will test your minds, your teamwork, and your skills in the kitchen." Chris had the campers gather on the beach and Duncan groaned, you sucked at cooking, a lot.

"You'll be cooking a three course meal, and serving it to me for tasting. The winners will get a reward the losers will send somebody home. Each team will appoint a head chef." Chris put a hand on his hip.

"To cook you need ingredients. Every morning a truck brings us food. Today's task starts there." A truck pulled itself out of the waters and you saw it was lined with food on the inside.

"We could do a killer italian theme." Geoff suggested. "Hello, head chef." Duncan smiled wide. "Seriously?" Geoff smiled clearly happy with his role. "We get it you love each other." You pushed the two out of the way and started grabbing food out of the truck.

Geoff laughed and Duncan rolled his eyes. Then you all got to work grabbing the food Geoff told you to get.

You all met in your kitchen holding various food items. "Okay so we have to make a three course meal and there's seven of us. So I say we all team up." Geoff suggested.

You had to smile at how kind he sounded, he was a good guy but some people just couldn't be in charge. Too nice.

You, and Duncan had desert duty which you heavily protested. "Last time I tried to make oatmeal, Tarun it turned out burnt. Hell, I've tried to make you hot cocoa before and somehow made it curdle." You just wanted to sit out of the challenge all together.

"That's because your father was a terrible cook, idiot. I'll teach you." Duncan rolled his eyes and wrapped an apron around you before you could say anything.

As the challenge progressed Duncan had you roll out dough. "Doll, I love you but your not even rolling the outside of it. It'll have huge edges and a paper thin middle." Duncan nicely critqued you. You stuck your tongue out.

He rolled his eyes and got to work fixing your mistake. He leaned over your back his chest hitting you as he put his arms around your making you roll into the correct spots. You giggled, but to his surprise you were blushing like an idiot.

Geoff snapped a picture.

---

|Trending on X right now|

#THEWAYHEHOLDSHER-

#obliviousidiots<3

#whenhecancook

#meantforeachother

#"illteachyou"brbsobbing

---

You didn't notice when Geoff winked at Duncan, but you did notice when Harold came into the kitchen wearing a pair of red underwear... and no shorts.

You gave the redhead one look and glared at Duncan. "I'm going to kill myself." You hissed.

"You'd never. You'd miss me too much." Duncan stuck his tongue out smirking. "Keep that tongue out much longer and I'll cut it off." You muttered going back to rolling the dough. Duncan quickly closed his mouth with a small smirk.

Geoff wanted to keep up with the classy italian theme so he had some old music playing in the background. The blonde also had made sandwhiches and when Harold had bit into his, he had spit underwear out much to Courtney's disgust.

Duncan pulled that trick on a bunch of dudes in juvie, frequently.

So it was to no surprise when you hit him in the back of the head. "أيها الأحمق، هل تريد الفوز بهذا التحدي أم لا؟ أقسم أنني سأدعوك بأمي إذا حاولت شيئًا آخر. توقف عن التركيز على رد الجميل لهارولد وابدأ في التركيز على التحدي أو ساعدني يا إلهي، تارون." You whispered in his ear (luckily the cameras picked it up). "Don't call my mom, doll. I'll stop." Duncan muttered looking a bit ashamed.

"Then focus on the challenge." You hissed.

---

You put the canollies in the oven and washed your hands. All that was needed to be done is the pasta sauce which Bridgette was working on.

Geoff, DJ, and Harold who was now wearing PJ's were talking about the dish pretty calmly to your surprise.

You were sitting on the countertop watching the people around you. Courtney was advising Bridgette on her tomato to water ratio, and Sadie was taking a picture of the meals to send to Katie.

"Put your head on my shoulder."

"Hold me in your arms, baby."

Duncan held out his hand to dance. You rolled your eyes taking it all the same. "I'm sorry I was a dickhead to Harold." He said not sounding all that sorry. "He deserved it, so it's fine." You smirked lightly punching his shoulder.

"This was Leo's favorite song." He commented quietly. "Was that the guard who always gave me pudding?" You asked with a small smile.

"No that was Jonah." Duncan quietly laughed as you both swayed together to the music. "Then which one was Leo?" You asked mildly confused.

"Squeeze me oh-so-tight."

"Show me that you love me too."

"He was the one who tased the dude with the blue hair on his first day." Duncan explained. "Oh! Dickface Leo!" You said remembering now. "He's the one that always took my extra pudding." You rolled your eyes.

"Mhm." Duncan smiled.

Sadie snapped a picture.

---

Sadie to Katie

S: *picture attached*

K: AW I LOVE THEM TOGETHER ROOTIN FOR THEM

S: ME TOOO

---

Duncan and you stayed like that for a while. Your head leaning against his chest as you stared at your feet swaying to the music. Duncan had his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin ontop of your head as you slow danced together.

You fit together like puzzle pieces.

---

Chris LOVED your team's food. Since DJ and Bridgette were definetely the more likeable ones on your team, Geoff decided to have them serve it too Chris.

Apparently, according to the blonde girl, Owen had devoured his teams plate.

---

You guys won dinner under the stars. Which honestly you could care less for. You would've been happy with hotdogs by a campfire. But instead you watched Duncan throw sushi into Geoff's mouth from five feet.

It was fun.

Sorta.

---

You and the girls dragged the tipsy boys back to the cabins. Once you got back you heard Heather berating Linsday for leaving her in the freezer. You had stepped out of the boys side of the cabin after tucking Duncan in and heard the words-

"For once in you pathetic life stop being such a ditzy bimbo blonde, and do something right!" Heather hissed at the girl who looked close to tears.

Leshawna was about to say something but this girl from the killer bass came up to defend the blonde.

"Okay just because no one likes your stuck-up rich white girl ass, ain't no reason to act like such a god damn bitch." Damn this girl must've had a death wish.

Leshawna watched as Heather's eye twitched and wanted to cackle.

"Go the fuck back to your cabin little miss crazy. I saw what you did to that intern." Heather hissed back getting in the girls face. "Then you know what happens when people call me crazy." The girl from the killer bass had this creepy smirk plastered on her face and Heather paled.

Y/N walked away not before giving Lindsay a hug. "Tell me if she doesn't stop being an ass." The girl whispered to the blonde who smiled gratefully.

Then the ex-con dissapeared back to her side of the camp.

Leshawna smiled. "I for one, love her." The girl laughed and Gwen agreed. "Hell yeah." The goth girl gave her friend a fistbump and Heather let out a frusterated scream. "Her cabin is over there! She shouldn't have even came over here." She whined.

"I'm glad she did." Leshawna muttered causing Gwen to laugh.

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selfindulgentpoorlywritten · 4 months ago

Text

The First Time (Ryan Graves Imagine)

Here's my work for @gravestrain for @wyattjohnston 's Summer Fic Exchange! I was so convinced this was due today and it’s not, so I suppose I’m early for once!

Rating: T

Pairing: Ryan Graves/Reader

Words: 2290

Warnings: none

Summary: A few of you and Ryan's "firsts".

Becoming a bespoke tailor isn’t as easy or straightforward as one might think. It’s taken years of schooling, apprenticing, and doing too much for too little pay to get where you are, but you’d do it all a hundred times over again so long as you got to have this moment at the end of it.

You’re tired, sweatier than you’d like to be. The temperature is finally starting to drop with the setting sun, the sky dyed a pink and orange ombre, cut through with warmly-tinted clouds. There’s a breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees, the rustling sound of it hidden under the thumping music from the DJ situated halfway between the indoor and outdoor portions of the venue. It’s a love song, an upbeat one that you recognize but don’t pay too much attention to.

It’s impossible to pay attention to anything other than him.

The First Time You Saw Him

You’re not sure if you still count as an apprentice, technically. You’ve been working with Max for a good four years now, and you mostly work on your own projects without supervision. When you have an extra minute, or Max is doing something unusual or interesting, he’ll let you hover nearby and watch, but those instances are becoming less frequent over time.

You usually handle the front desk duties for the shop, greeting customers as they arrive and manning the register before they leave. This time, however, you’re at the cutting table when the bell above the door rings with movement, Max greeting the customer from where he’d been passing by.

“You must be Mister Graves,” Max says, shaking the hand of the man who enters, ducking through the door to avoid hitting his head on the small frame.

“Please, call me Ryan,” the man replies easily. Max keeps talking but you don’t hear what he’s saying, because the man– Ryan– looks over Max’s head to where you’re standing, and the first sight of his hazel eyes hits you like a punch to the gut. A warm smile spreads across his angular face, and you know with devastating certainty that you’re in trouble.

The First Time You Touched Him

It makes complete and total sense that Ryan needs a lot of his clothing tailored, considering his unusual stature. What doesn’t make sense is why your heart skips a beat every time you see his smiling face coming through the door. He’s had a couple suits tailored, a few pairs of jeans, two button-down shirts. Max takes care of him each time, but he always insists on making time to talk to you when he comes in. It’s sweet, and you appreciate him not ignoring you the way some customers tend to. Your conversations are light, congenial, and you definitely don’t replay them in your head a million times for a week afterward.

“Hi Y/N,” Ryan greets as he walks in on a random Tuesday, “It’s good to see you.” You shoot him a smile, noticing the neatly folded fabric draped over his arm.

“Hey Ryan,” you return, “How are you?” He comes to a stop on the other side of the counter, murmuring a gentle good, how are you?

“I’m good, thank you,” you say, taking a breath before giving him the bad news, “I’m afraid Max is home sick today, though, so he won’t be able to help you.” Ryan looks almost confused at the statement.

“Oh, I hope he feels better soon,” he says, fiddling with the hem of the shirt in his hand, “But I mean– you’re a tailor too, right? So you could maybe help me instead?” That is, of course, the most logical solution. But most people who only work with Max, well, they only work with Max. Ryan is the first one to seem interested in your services.

“Oh, of course! I can definitely assist,” you assure him, “But it’s okay if you want Max to do it. He has your measurements, so you could drop it off and he’ll do it when he comes back. Don’t feel like I’m the only option, if you don’t want me.” This only seems to confuse him more, and the way he tilts his head slightly is unbearably cute.

“I do want you,” he says, seeming to only realize what he’s said after it’s out. His cheeks tinge pink, but he doesn’t correct himself. You swallow hard and remind yourself that you’re talking to a customer right now.

“Well, I can definitely take care of you, then,” you reply. It, you should have said you can take care of it, fuck. Ryan just smiles a little more, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” he says. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything, because it doesn’t. You extend your hand, palm up for him to hand over the shirt. He stares at your outstretched hand for a beat, before placing his own free hand on top of it. You can feel your mouth drop open as you stare at the point of contact, his hand impossibly huge atop your own, the warmth of his skin radiating up your arm, his callouses rasping against your own. When you look back up to his face, his eyes are wide, searching for something in your own expression.

“The shirt, Ryan,” you force yourself to say. The words snap the both of you out of… whatever that was. His laugh is awkward as he snatches his hand back, replacing it with the shirt.

“My bad,” he says, clears his throat, looks anywhere except your face, “I’ll just, uh… go. It was nice to see you.” It feels mean to say he flees the shop, but he does almost run face-first into the door frame, so you think it’s the most accurate word choice.

The First Time You Said Yes

You know who Ryan Graves is, in theory: a defenseman for the New Jersey Devils. You also know who Ryan is practically: your super hot, incredibly sweet customer who sometimes brings you snacks and knick-knacks because “it made me think of you”. The fact that Ryan apparently thinks of you outside of your occasional interactions is a fact that you’ve been staunchly ignoring for the past two months. Then he’d come in and offered you his hand, and you were suddenly incapable of ignoring it any longer.

With the way he’d run away last time, part of you expects to never see him again. Sure, you have his shirt now, but he can definitely afford to give up a single standard dress shirt. Yet, he returns two days later, the bell announcing his arrival.

“Oh, hi Ryan,” you greet, trying to sound less surprised than you are. He smiles at you, but there’s something different about it this time. He approaches the counter, shoulders squared and back straight.

“I’m sorry, your shirt’s not ready yet,” you say, genuinely feeling kind of bad, “You usually pick up on Wednesdays, so I figured…” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, caught up in the determined expression on his face.

“That’s okay,” he replies, dark hair slipping from behind his ear and falling into his face, “I’m not here for the shirt.” You check his hands again, sure that you must’ve missed some new piece of clothing he’s carrying. There’s nothing. You return your gaze to his face, your chest tightening from the intensity of his stare.

“Um, what can I help you with, then?” you ask, turning your lips up the barest hint, knowing you still definitely look more confused than anything.

“I know this is your job, and you might just be being nice because of that, and I don’t want you to feel pressured, you can definitely say no, I promise I won’t be upset,” he says all in a rush, stumbles, continues, “I mean, I’ll be disappointed, but that would be my problem, not yours, I would never–” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you.

“Ryan, what are you talking about?” you ask, stalling his racing run-on sentence. His mouth shuts so quickly his teeth surely click together inside. He clears his throat.

“Do you wanna go to dinner some time?” he asks, clearly trying so hard to appear more confident than he is. But he’s nervous. He’s nervous because of you.

“Like… as a date?” you ask, nearly struck dumb from even the implication of it.

“Yeah,” he nods, breathing deeply, “If you want.” Time stops around you, the constant thrum of the city outside fading away, and all you can see is his eyes, wide and earnest and hopeful. Everything you’ve been forcing yourself to not think of comes rushing back to mind, every conversation, every stupid joke and accompanying overly enthusiastic laugh, every shyly-offered treat. The time he’d given you a Devils beanie and told you, voice soft and reverent, that you looked good in his number.

“Yes,” you reply, finally.

“Yes?” he repeats, a huge toothy smile overtaking his face.

“Of course,” you confirm, grinning so hard your cheeks ache with it.

The First Time You Kiss Him

You aren’t in the habit of hiding things from Max, the man having earned your explicit trust long ago, but you decide it’s best to keep the four dates you and Ryan have been on to yourself. For now, at least. You’re not sure what you’re afraid of, but you don’t really want to find out if the nondescript fear is justified.

As it turns out, you don’t have to tell him.

The shop is open slightly later than usual on Fridays, so you’d asked Max on Sunday if you could leave a little early tonight. He hadn’t pushed for too many details as to why, but had turned those shrewd blue eyes on you for an eternity of a second before agreeing.

You’ve got the door halfway open on your way out, bidding Max farewell, when he says

“Have fun. Tell Ryan I said hello.”

You freeze with one foot on the sidewalk, turning your head back to gape at him. You fumble for something to say, to defend yourself, but Max just smiles, shaking his head and making a shooing motion with his hand.

“Old bastard,” you say, feeling terribly fond as you finish exiting to the sound of his laughter.

You’ve been to Devils games before, but you’re not used to… all of this. Ryan had insisted you use a ticket from him to sit with the WAGs, and you’d been too nervous to ask if that was his way of asking you to be his partner, but accepted anyway. The ladies are all so nice, immediately asking you about yourself and seeming genuinely interested in your answers. The game is great, though they don’t win, and the girls shuffle you around with them afterward, herding you to the tunnel to wait for the boys.

When the guys start filing out, your heart rate picks up a tad, breathing stuttering as you’re surrounded by even more strangers. Then Ryan emerges, his eyes finding you immediately, smiling wide as he waves, and something inside of you settles. Ryan is here, and he’s happy to see you. Ryan is here, and that means everything is going to be okay.

He introduces you to Dougie, whose hand you shake gladly. They guide you out toward the garage, Ryan insisting that he’ll give you a ride home since you’d walked from work. Dougie splits off to go to his own car, leaving you to finish walking with Ryan, swinging your entwined hands as you go.

You chat on the drive, fingers still tangled together on the gearshift between you. When the car stops in front of your building, you continue talking for a few minutes, until silence eventually descends. The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can’t help but marvel at how quickly you’d gone from skipping heartbeats and strangled breaths around him to this calm certainty.

“Good night,” he says, so quiet he barely breaks the silence, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” He lifts your joined hands and lowers his head until they meet in the middle, not breaking eye contact as he brushes his lips against your knuckles. You shake your head with a grin, reaching across with your free hand to cup his jaw. You hold him in place as you dip in to press your lips together. When you pull back to rest your foreheads together, there’s a matching smile left on his mouth.

The First Time You…

There were a million other firsts from that point on. The first time he called you his partner, the first time you called him your boyfriend. The first time you spent the night, the first time you woke up in his arms. The first time you introduced him to your family, the first time you met his. The first time you fought, the first time you made up. The first time you took a leap of faith and followed him, the first time you stepped foot in the house in Pittsburgh that’s now your home.

The time he proposed. Not the first time you’d said yes to him, but possibly the most important.

And now, here, the first time you get to walk across the patio to where he stands in the suit you’d made, taking his hand and telling Dougie sorry, I need to borrow my husband for a minute.

It still seems like a dream, sometimes, the way your life has panned out. Even more unreal is the fact that it’s still going, that you have so many more years of life and opportunity and love left.

#the summer fic exchange 2k24 #ryan graves imagine #hockey imagines #ryan graves fic #nhl imagines #andis coping mechanism

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eveninglight416 · 3 months ago

Text

Homecoming

A little thing I wrote during a rough time about my favorite noodle twins 💚💚 I figured I’d post bc whatevs. This is just me projecting onto Velvet but I like how it turned out :) (yes I did cry while writing this I’m just a girl)

I think the twins (especially Velvet) struggled a lot in school with not being popular or having partners (just like me fr). This is a little window into that and I think not having a great childhood explains why Velvet is so desperate for fame/fans, girl just wants to be loved <3

Flashing lights. Loud music. Pretty dresses. All things Velvet loved, but she wasn’t enjoying herself one bit in the back of the gym, with no one to keep her company but her brother.

No one had complimented her short gold dress, or extravagant hair, or makeup, or anything she had done to try and make herself stand out. She thought her junior homecoming might be different, but that was a stupid thought. Just the same old nothing.

At this point, she wasn’t even surprised no one had asked her to the dance. Well, someone did—her brother—in a kind attempt to make her feel better. She had smiled and accepted, but it only made her feel worse. It only reminded her that no one else would ever want to be with them. He was a nobody, too, taking his nobody sister to this boring dance.

As if to mock her, the DJ chose a love song next: Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Velvet could barely watch, but she couldn’t take her eyes away as all the couples paired up. Listening to the lyrics only made her more upset, knowing no one would ever feel that way about her.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Velvet looks away from the scene to see her brother, holding out his hand to her. She rolls her eyes.

“Very funny, Veneer,” she sighs, taking her gaze back to the couples on the dance floor.

“How do you know my name?” Veneer responds with shock. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it sure was a stupid attempt to make her feel not miserable. Just a reminder that he was the only one who thought she was pretty.

Veneer didn’t seem to care, smiling up at her with his statement green lipstick. He takes her hand from her crossed arms, and tenderly kisses the back of it.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m almost nervous to ask,” he starts, still playing pretend, “but would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Fine,” she huffs.

She lets him lead her to the dance floor, then lead in the dance, their fingers intertwined. She could already hear the rumors: those loser twins, dancing with each other because no one else would ask them.

Veneer keeps smiling, and she smiles back, but it was fake. She kept it to herself that they had ended up next to her crush, dancing with her new girlfriend.

Her name was Juliet, just like Romeo and Juliet. Velvet wished she could talk to her through her window, and stare at her through the fish tank, and kiss her passionately in her pool. But that was all a lost fantasy.

She hadn’t bothered learning the girlfriend’s name. Velvet didn’t know anything about her, other than she hated her almost as much as she hated herself.

She tries to focus on her brother, but it was impossible with all the happy couples surrounding them. Deep down, she knew Veneer was feeling the same way, and he was trying to distract himself as well as her.

Just as Velvet thought it couldn’t get worse, the song ends. She freezes in her spot, and watches through watery eyes as that atrocious beautiful disgusting gorgeous bitch takes Juliet into her arms, and kisses her lips.

One wasn’t enough. Juliet kisses her back, then again, and again, like they were the only two people in the world. But they weren’t, Velvet was right there.

She felt everything and nothing. She must have been crying, though, when she hears her brother’s voice, back to normal.

“Velvet, what’s wrong- oh…”

He trails off when he figures out the answer, turning his head to where she was looking.

She could finally feel the hot tears running down her face, witnessing a kiss between lovers. Velvet was nearly seventeen, and she had never experienced something like that, and at this point she didn’t think she ever would.

Everyone else was in love, and here Velvet was, watching the girl she loved kiss someone else. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t look away. Always a witness, never experiencing it. She would never experience it. Maybe she should just end her own misery-

“Let’s get out of here.”

Veneer takes her out of her spiral and the dance floor, practically dragging her out of the gym while she tried to control her tears. Being away from the couples didn’t help one bit; she still knew what was going on in there.

Hand in his, he takes her past the cafeteria, past the bathrooms where the cool kids were getting drunk, past the courtyard with even more couples talking. He doesn’t say anything, just guides her to the back door to the parking lot.

“What are you doing?” Velvet finally asks him.

“We’re gonna dance. Just us,” he answers, looking around before he opened the door. It was safe, of course, not even the teachers bothered to look at them.

The parking lot was dark and quiet, the opposite of the gym. Veneer seemed determined to make this their own dance floor, though, taking out his phone and looking for a song.

“I don’t want to dance anymore,” Velvet complains. “I don’t want to dance ever again.”

“That’s too bad,” Veneer refutes. “Just one dance, then I’ll drive us home. Please?”

“Okay.”

Fine, she’d dance if it meant she could go home. Being outside was a little better than being surrounded by couples, but she still felt miserable. She couldn’t even see the stars, they were covered by clouds.

Seeing Veneer’s car gave her an ounce of relief. Even when they got home, though, she’d still have to be embarrassed.

For the past few weeks, she had moved into her brother’s room. She had made plenty of excuses, like her room was too cold, he was scared of the dark, his room was closer to the bathroom. But they both know it was so he could keep an eye on her. She might’ve done something stupid by now if he hadn’t been there at night to calm her down.

Just one dance. Hopefully less than three minutes, depending on what song he picked. Just one dance, then she could go home.

The music was much quieter than the music in the gym, but Velvet recognized it immediately. One of their favorite songs: Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar.

She rests her hands on his shoulders, swaying with him in their own slow dance. When she looks up at the sky, it kisses her with a single drop of rain.

Of course it had to rain. Just another thing to make her miserable.

“It’s raining,” Velvet points out, even more drops falling onto her.

“That’s okay.”

Despite the rain, Veneer keeps leading her in the dance, and she had no choice but to go along. It his suit and tie, he looked happy, but the sadness was there in his eyes. It hadn’t left since… She couldn’t remember.

At the bridge, something changed.

The music soared over the falling rain, while her brother spun her all around the parking lot. By the bridge, it was pouring rain, and Velvet and Veneer were the only people in the world. He catches her in a dip, and she realized the stars weren’t in the sky, because they were in his eyes.

For a moment, maybe only having her brother wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d survive until they graduated, and then they could move to the big city and leave all this behind.

He smiles, and she smiles back, and it was real. The rain was messing up her hair, but for the first time in her life she didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone was watching her.

At the next crescendo, Veneer lifts her off the ground and spins her around. It felt like flying.

Up in the air, Velvet wasn’t sure if the water on her face was rain or tears. That wasn’t her problem. She just spreads her arms like wings, letting the rain ruin the outfit she had worked so hard on.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had really laughed. But she laughs now, laughs and laughs in the face of the crying sky. She was crying, too, but it was a good cry for once.

When Veneer puts her down, she saw he was laughing and crying just the same as her. As much as she wanted to finish the dance, she couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around him, hugging him tight in their rain soaked outfits.

They stay hugging until the song ends, then some after that, until their laughs and sobs overpowered the rain. Maybe… No. They would get out of here. They would make it.

“I love you so much,” she sobs, or laughs, they sounded the same at this point.

“I love you too!” He squeezes her tighter, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I love you more than anything!”

“I’m cold as fuck,” she changes the subject, finally noticing how freezing the rain was in her short thin-strap dress.

“Oh! Here you go,” Veneer offers.

He takes off his coat, then puts it over her like the gentleman he was. If more people were like her brother, maybe Velvet wouldn’t feel so depressed. At least she had her brother, and that was the best thing she could ask for.

“You still wanna go home?” He asks.

Right, their dance was over. She was actually sad it was, but she definitely didn’t want to go back in that building.

“Yeah, I think so.” She takes his hand, leading him to the car.

She takes out the keys from his coat. Before handing them to him, she takes a moment to admire a little picture of her and Veneer on some vacation, attached to a keychain. They couldn’t have been older than five, and the light was still in their eyes. Once the picture was obscured by raindrops and tears, she hands him the keys, then gets in the passenger seat.

Just as Veneer reaches to start the car, she stops him. She puts a hand over his, and connects their fingers, taking their hands to the armrest. He doesn’t comment, just sits there in silence with her.

She mostly looked down at the ground these days. But something compelled her to look up, through the moonroof, towards the sky. It was completely dark except for the lights illuminating the parking lot. The rain poured onto the moonroof, and if she tried, she could make out shapes in the drops. One figuration of raindrops made two stars, side by side.

Her ears rang, lingering from the loud music in the gym. She didn’t want to think about that place, so she takes her focus back to the rain. It was its own kind of music, pattering against the metal of the car. If love had a sound, this was it.

Her gold lipstick tasted bad, metallic. Velvet didn’t know why she even put it on, no one had any interest in her lips. But if she focused enough, she could still taste the chocolate chip cookie her brother forced her to take in the cafeteria. She barely felt hungry anymore, but right now, all she wanted was another one. And, for the first time in all her teenage years, she remembered how much she loved chocolate.

She had tried a new perfume, and in this moment, it was her new favorite. It was lemony with a hint of sweetness, and now she wanted to wear it every day until it ran out, and then she’d buy a new one. It mixed with her brother’s cologne on his coat, vanilla and some kind of citrus. She wished she could mix them together, but figured that would waste the nice bottles they came in.

Being touch starved was rough for a girl like Velvet, who craved physical affection more than anything. Veneer always made sure to hug her and hold her hand when she needed it, but usually something was missing.

Not tonight.

His hand, slippery from the rain, was still warm in hers. Her rings pressed against his fingers, and she looked forward to taking them off so they could hold hands again. If she really felt for it, she could feel his pulse.

While it was her main focus, his hand wasn’t the only thing she could feel. Her strapless bra dug into her sides. Veneer’s jacket fit her perfectly, keeping her warm after the cold rain. Her gold heels were uncomfortable as hell. She could feel her own pulse, still beating, even after everything.

She looks over to the reason it still was.

“Vels?”

“Hm?” She meets his eyes with a soft smile.

“You okay to go? I want to beat the traffic.”

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Veneer starts the car and drives them out of the parking lot. Once they were on the road, he switches to driving with one hand, and uses his other to hold Velvet’s. She squeezes, and he squeezes back.

He had turned on the radio, the volume just loud enough for Velvet to hear it mixed with the rain. She didn’t know the song, but she liked the singer’s voice. At a stoplight, she kicks off her uncomfortable shoes.

She stares out the window as they drive past the suburbs she hated so much. Through the rain, she could almost see it: them driving through the city, past all the bright lights, away from all of this nothingness.

Less than two years, then they’d be out of here. After tonight, they were one day closer.

Veneer pulls up to the driveway, greeted by the average sized middle class house he couldn’t wait to move out of. His hand was still in his sister’s.

He was about to talk, but stops himself when he notices Velvet fast asleep in the passenger seat. With a sigh of relief, he turns off the car.

As quietly as possible, Veneer walks around to the other side. He picks her up out of the seat, making sure her head rested on his shoulder. Her bag and shoes were still in the car, but they could deal with that tomorrow.

Trying his best to shield her from the rain, he carries his sleeping sister through the front door. Only one light was on, meaning their parents were asleep. Thank goodness, he didn’t feel like explaining why they were home early and soaking wet.

He carries her up the stairs to his room, then gently lays her on her side of his bed. Too tired for anything else, he changes into the nearest sweatpants and t-shirt, then lazily wipes off his makeup. He wasn’t sure why he put so much effort into his appearance for the dance, maybe some fantasy that a cute guy would approach him.

But that’s all it was. A fantasy.

Once he was done getting ready, he figured he should at least take Velvet’s makeup off and get her a dry jacket. Careful not to wake her, he trades out his coat for a zip up hoodie that had been lying on the floor. He takes off her jewelry as well, making sure they were laid out nicely on his bedside table.

He then gets out a makeup wipe, and tries to remove as much as he could while sitting beside her. She had put on quite a bit, and she looked beautiful as ever. With or without makeup, he loved looking at her, especially her smile. He saw less and less of it lately.

Despite what he thought was a delicate touch, her eyes start to flutter open.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he whispers, taking off the last of her blush.

“Hey…” She groans, sounding just as sleepy as she looked.

She swats his hand away, then changes her mind, and holds it instead. It seemed like she was about to fall asleep again, when she suddenly sits up, her eyes wide.

“I am not sleeping in this bra,” she declares.

“Good idea,” he agrees, though he was glad he couldn’t relate.

“I know you’re gay and my brother, but,” she finishes her sentence by standing up and throwing a blanket over him, sending him into darkness. “And I’m stealing your pajamas!”

That was fine by him. He stole her clothes plenty, though it wasn’t as fun now that she didn’t get mad. Still, it was one of his ways to be closer to her.

After a minute, she pulls the blanket off of him. She had changed into a set of hot pink satin pajamas—they fit her perfectly. They were one of his favorites, but he would gladly lend them to her whenever if it would make her happy.

She sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. Without a word, she wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. Her head fit perfectly in his shoulder, like he was made to hold her.

“I’m proud of us,” Veneer whispers into the hug.

“Why? We’re total losers,” Velvet disagrees, squeezing him tighter.

“But we’re gonna make it. In two years, we’ll be done, and we won’t be losers anymore,” he reminds her.

He had managed to do the complete opposite of his goal, when he hears Velvet sniffle. He understood, though—it had been a rough night for her. For them both. She needed this.

“I’m right here, I gotcha,” he comforts, gently rubbing her back.

“I know,” she lets out a quiet sob. “I know.”

He holds her through the tears, just as he had countless times.

A million thoughts raced through Velvet’s head, sadness flooding back the more she thought about everyone and everything. At least she had a shoulder to cry on, the one person who was there for her.

She had cried plenty that night, but of course her stupid brain had to make her cry again. If only she could be anyone else. But then she wouldn’t have her brother, and she decided that was even worse.

She knew what to do: in hope of blocking out the thoughts, she takes her focus to the rain. It tapped against the window, reminding her that it was okay, even if it was raining.

Velvet focuses on Veneer’s hand on her back: up, down, up, down. She breathes with it, in on the up, out on the down. Veneer breathes with her, until the tears were done.

“I love you,” he tells her, brushing off the last of her tears. “I love you, just the way you are.”

“That’s,” she takes a deep breath, then snickers, “That’s so cheesy.”

“I mean it!” He laughs with her, and flicks her on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah,” she accepts with a playful eye roll. “I love you too.”

“Can I tuck you in?”

She nods, and makes herself comfortable in his sheets. Veneer stands on her side, bringing the blankets up to her shoulders. Once she was tucked in, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

He smiles at her, and she smiles back. Before he moved, she takes his face in her hands, and kisses his forehead next. She already knew it was his favorite.

Veneer lays down beside her, and she quickly wraps her arms around his shoulders. He hugs her close, just as he had the past few nights. Something felt different about this time, though. It was less like she needed him, and more like she wanted him to hold her.

She tried not to think about the after parties she wasn’t invited to, or Juliet spending the night with her girlfriend that should’ve been Velvet. Instead, she was right where she needed to be: in the warm embrace of the person who loved her more than anything.

Her head rested next to his heart, the gentle pulse starting to put her to sleep. She feels a kiss on the top of her head, so she gives him one last squeeze in the hug. She didn’t need to say anything else; her touch was her language.

It couldn’t possibly get worse, so it had to get better, right? Something had to change, they just had to get out of this awful place.

For now, it was raining, and that was okay. The rain would stop eventually.

#velvet and veneer #velvet #veneer #writing #teen angst #someone give velvet a hug please #I mean veneer does but still #trolls band together

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