#been waiting for this concert for three fucking months

[wannabecatwriter]

Kamelot, let's go!!!

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3

In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.

Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List

(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)

Monaco May 2024

F1GossipOfficial posted

34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml

Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted

493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??

Amalfi Coast August 2024

maxverstappen1 posted

987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too

October 2024 Austin, Texas

You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.

While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.

Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.

While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.

You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.

After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.

While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.

Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.

"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.

You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."

"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."

Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.

"How far are you from the track?"

You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."

"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"

Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.

"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.

You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.

Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.

Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.

Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.

The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.

And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.

Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.

You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.

"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.

"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."

yourpersonalinsta posted

348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)

It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.

You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.

"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."

John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.

"She said yes."

You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.

Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.

"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."

Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.

Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.

"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."

Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.

"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."

"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.

"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."

You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"

You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"

"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."

You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."

You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.

"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.

You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."

"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"

You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.

"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."

You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"

Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."

The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"

yourpersonalinsta story post

story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.

TheYappingHour posted

876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day

Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:

You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?

Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!

You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.

Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!

You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!

Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.

You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.

Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.

You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?

Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.

You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!

Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.

TheYappingHour posted

1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby

"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.

"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."

You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.

Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.

"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.

"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."

Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.

"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."

"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.

A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.

************************************************************************

It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.

A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.

"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.

Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."

You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.

"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."

Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.

As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.

He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?

Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.

Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.

Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.

"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"

Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.

"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."

Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.

"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.

"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"

And that's exactly what he does.

yourpersonalinsta posted

938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.

Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[satorusugurugurl]

Toji as a bodyguard

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)

Part Two Part Three Part Four

Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.

One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.

But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.

It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.

That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”

You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.

“W-What—?”

“No, never!”

“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”

Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.

If you could even call him a man.

A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.

“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”

“E-Everywhere?”

“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.

Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?

“Right, thank you.”

“You’re welcome--”

“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”

“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.

“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”

Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.

Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.

Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”

“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”

“A sign? Like a signal?”

“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”

You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.

“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.

“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”

“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”

“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”

Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.

There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.

“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”

“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”

The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.

“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”

“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”

Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.

But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.

Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.

After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.

After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.

“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”

Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.

“Did you make sure to tag the—“

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”

Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!

“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”

“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”

You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.

Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.

The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.

Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.

If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.

Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.

These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?

You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.

You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.

You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.

“Ijichi! Hi!”

“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”

Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.

“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”

“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”

No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.

“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.

“Huh?”

His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”

“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”

“I don't eit—”

Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.

“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”

“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”

This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!

You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.

“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”

“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”

Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.

“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”

Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.

“And another thi—”

The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.

“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”

Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.

This was fucking serious.

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[hannieehaee]

Can you write something, anything, about woozi and his ass cuz that one clip of 96z shaking their ass has made me into a whole new person. Literally just Lee jihoon ass appreciation.

18+ / mdi

content: sub!woozi, afab reader, smut, reader is extremely horny and depraved, the word pretty is overused, body worship, woozi is thoroughly felt up (oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1139

a/n: U AND ME BOTH ANON

masterlist

"w-wait slow down."

these were a few of the last coherent words jihoon would let out that night.

or at least that was the plan. especially considering his egregious behavior mere hours ago.

you see, you knew your boyfriend's body like the back of your hand. you had kissed and worshiped every inch of his skin, leaving no part untouched at some point or other.

however, this past month, you had been unable to relish in the privilege that was to have lee jihoon's body at your utmost disposition. work had kept you away from him, leaving you sad and lonely and without his pretty body to gawk at for an entire month.

finally being back, you were slightly peeved off at knowing he'd have back to back concerts for a few days just on the week of your arrival, but it was fine! as long as you got to keep him to yourself afterwards, it was okay.

it was okay until it wasn't. until the moment you saw him step out on stage, tight button up on, blonde hair up in a bun, and the worst of all, the most fitting brown slacks you had ever seen on your boyfriend. the sight made you feel like a caveman, no coherent word leaving your mouth as you gawked at him like a piece of meat.

you watched as he swayed his hips, showing off every delicious curve of his body, taunting you without so much as realizing.

it had been an extraneous three hours (damn you, never ending aju nice) until you were able to get him in a car and back home.

the moment you stepped foot into your shared apartment was when you began your attack, pushing him up against the wall and shutting up any question leaving his mouth with your tongue down his throat.

your hands were frantic, feeling him up like you were starved for his touch – and you very much were. your wandering hands groped at every curve, swallowing every gasp of delight let out against your lips.

when you finally disconnected for some air, trailing your lips down to his neck, he gasped out his request to slow down, but you simply couldnt. you needed every inch of his body marked by your kiss, touched by your hand, licked by your tongue.

finally pulling away completely, you dragged him over to the couch, sitting him down and crawling your way on top of him after having carelessly discarded your clothes. he followed without instruction, throwing off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, unable to get them all the way off as you sat on him.

your lips went back to his, hands still frantically feeling him up, scratching at the milky skin of his toned chest.

"so pretty, hoonie. fuck ... do you even know how gorgeous you are?", your lips trailed down to his chest, careless splotches of red left behind by your teeth as you marked your territory.

"prettiest thing ... looked so good on stage ... wanted to fuck you so bad," you groaned against his nipple, licking at it as he cried out above you.

"s-stop it," he complained, too shy to take your shameless praise.

"wanna see you, pretty. wanna see your gorgeous body, yeah? so fucking sexy ... make me feel like im losing my mind ..."

without even realizing it, your hips had begun grinding against his crotch, hands digging into his shoulders for support. his strong arms held your waist, helping you maintain your pace.

fuck, he was so meaty and strong. the thought alone made your eyes roll back.

despite the pleasure of his delicious cock dragging against your cunt, you needed to change positions. you couldnt ride him tonight. you needed to feel him up so more, up until getting your fill of him.

flipping him around (with his help ..), you laid on the couch, with him now above you. you bit your lip at the sight. his pretty hair was covering the sides of his face, making him look like an angel from above you. you voiced this compliment to him, making him scoff and scrunch up his nose in embarrassment.

"hoonie ... fuck, so fucking pretty and sexy. so obsessed with you ...", you groaned, hands reaching back to squeeze at his ass and drag him against you.

"no, i- fuck. you .. you're the pretty one, i-", he hiccuped opting to bury his face in your neck before you could see his reddened cheeks.

as embarrassed as he was at your blatant comments, he also relished in it, allowing you to touch him in such ways and even following the guidance of your movements as he ground against you, your hands still grasping harshly at his ass.

your hands went up and down the delicious arch of his back, groaning at the thought of how pretty he'd look on all fours for you, gorgeous body ready for you to do whatever you wanted to it.

but that would come some other day. right now you needed him to get his dick in you and make you lose all ability to think.

slipping inside you, he groaned against your ear, humping against you thoughtlessly. the contrast between the controlled movement of his hips on stage made you chuckle, enjoying how his desire would make him lose control so easily.

"feel so good, shit- you- love you," he murmured against you, "d-don't stop touching me ... love when you touch me ... when you love me like this."

your hands went even crazier at his admission, digging your nails into every bit of skin you could reach and dragging his hips towards you.

"my pretty boy ... body's so fucking gorgeous. and you're all mine? fuck ... prettiest little thing all mine ...", you gasped against his ear, making his pace go even faster at your endless praise. your hands never stopped feeling him up, dragging his toned body against your own as he showed the telltale signs of his orgasm.

with a high pitched whine, he came inside you, with you joining him right after. the sight of him alone had you pent up for hours, so cumming with him was an effortless task.

falling halfway on top of you, he cuddled against you, kissing at your neck before nuzzling into your hair.

"love you," he whispered.

"love you too, pretty," you whispered back, "but i'm not done with you yet ..."

the rest of the night was spent productively. your lips found every inch of skin on his body, leaving love bites on all your favorite parts. by the end of the night, his hips were unrecognizable with pretty red marks left by your lips. his chest and back were red due to all the grabbing your hands couldnt help themselves with. and jihoon? he was sleeping with a satisfied smile on his face.

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, nothing else really?

summary: your life goes back to normal— how things were before you knew steve— and it’s fine (or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | ❝𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆❞

Spring Semester 2017

“This is how villain origin stories are born,” Robin said with a loud sigh as she closed her laptop for the time being. “Apartment hunting. Why does this suck so much?”

“Because everything’s severely out of our price range,” You responded, looking up from your own laptop. “Also, there are barely any three-bedroom options.”

“And the ones that are available and in our budget are very shitty,” Vickie added and you nodded in agreement.

The three of you were sitting on the carpeted floor in your dorm room. Living together for the next school year had been jokingly and playfully talked about in the very early stages of your friendship with Robin, but then as the months passed, it settled into an idea that actually became serious; mainly because of how much sense it made. And then Robin introduced you to Vickie and another friendship, and roommate, was born. 

Eddie was also set as a fourth roommate for a bit, but then he told you that he and Chrissy decided to live together for junior year, so it became settled that it would only be you, Robin, and Vickie. Which sounded great, and you were already excited about it since you hated living alone, but the apartment-hunting part quickly proved to be a lot more of a nuisance than any of you had expected.

“Fuck it, let’s just do a four-bedroom, then,” Robin said, shrugging. “There are a bunch more options for those, anyway. Like, the one I showed you guys yesterday. That place was perfect.”

“Did I miss the moment when our fourth roommate magically appeared?” Vickie asked, a playful smile on her face. 

“We can easily find someone else in one of those, like, Facebook group things.”

“That’s honestly not a bad idea,” You responded, already going to pull up Facebook on your laptop. 

Robin smiled. “Thank you. I always have great ideas.”

Vickie gave her a look. “Do I need to mention the ‘donating blood to get concert ticket money’ idea you had a week ago?” 

“No, that’s okay. We don’t need to discuss that low point.” 

You were the one who showed them Talia’s posting on one of the “searching for roommates” groups. She seemed nice and interesting and both Robin and Vickie thought so too. The three of you put together a quick message— briefly introducing yourselves and that you were looking for a fourth roommate— and sent it.

“Okay, fourth roommate, check,” Robin said once you pressed send. “Now, we have to get the place that I showed you guys yesterday.”

You laughed a little. “Let’s wait until she actually says something, Rob.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Initially, it felt equivalent to a family meeting. Well, more so what you imagined a family meeting would be like because the four of you never actually had to have one before. 

But then, it actually felt like you were giving some sort of speech or presentation because of the setup. Robin, Vickie, and Talia were on the couch and you were standing in front of the TV and explaining everything to them. 

You kept in most of the details— you and Steve agreeing to fake date, your feelings for Eddie being the reason behind it all, and how it was only meant to go until Spring Break. 

Aside from the fact that they all seemed shocked to learn that you had feelings for Eddie, their collective thought was that the entire relationship between you and Steve had seemed so real.

“We were just really good at faking,” Was your response to Vickie specifically saying how cute you two had looked together; especially during the one reality TV night where Steve came over and picked the show.

You remembered that night pretty well, but you didn’t remember any specific moments where you had felt as if you and he had to “play up” the relationship or lay the PDA on thick since Eddie wasn’t around that night, so you weren’t sure how that moment was considered a definingly cute one for the two of you. 

“Were you good at faking or was it not really fake?” Robin asked, giving you a certain look. 

“Definitely fake,” You didn’t hesitate to answer because you deliberately didn’t want to think about her question too deeply. “We’re not even really friends, and he just went on a date last night. Hence the Eddie punch.”

Eddie was still sleeping in your bed. When you got back from Steve’s place, you weren’t in the mood to wake him up or tell him to shift over and make room for you, so you spent the night on the couch. 

“Damn, it kinda sucks that we’re never gonna see him again. He was the only one that liked when I made the pumpkin cheesecake cookies,” Talia said.

Vickie laughed a bit. “The only reason we don’t like it is because that's clearly a Fall cookie, Tal, and it's Spring right now.” She then looked as if she thought of something. “Hey, but at least you won’t have to get stuck on a team with Eddie for game night anymore. We’re back to individual stuff or you being the referee.”

Talia smiled. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“Wait, that just made me remember something,” Robin started. “Guys, I need you to please hear me out on this one,” She paused for what seemed like dramatic effect. “I think it's time to bring back Monopoly.”

There was a collective groan that immediately filled the air upon hearing her suggestion. Monopoly was a near friendship-ending game for you all, and it was only meant to be played on the rarest of occasions; which actually meant never. 

You sat down on the small loveseat then, glad that the subject had been shifted and that your speech, mixed with a Q&A, was over. “Robin, why do you wanna ruin all of our friendships?”

She quickly shook her head. “Come on, it’s been months. We’re all much more mature and reasonable adults, and I doubt we’ll have any arguments like last time.” 

Before any of you could respond with any sort of rebuttal, your bedroom door opened and out walked a tired looking Eddie. 

“Somehow, I heard the mention of Monopoly and I’m here to immediately veto that suggestion.” 

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Go back to sleep, Munson.”

The game night conversation continued, and from there, things were normal. And you didn’t mind the normalcy that your life settled back into over the next few days and then weeks— even though, at one point, the thought of it bothered you and you had missed a lot of the things that came along with fake dating Steve. Now you knew there was no point in missing any of it; in fact, it felt kind of dumb to. 

Your classes got more and more intense during the entire month of April, so there wasn’t that much time to think about Steve or wonder what he was up to. However, the moments you did think of him surprisingly hit hard. 

When you all ended up playing Monopoly at game night, after Robin’s many begs and pleads, you thought about Steve and how different things would’ve been if he was there. You imagined him as a pretty competitive Monopoly player, and felt almost certain that he would’ve either had the biggest rivalry with Robin or formed some sort of alliance with her; she was the one that actually ended up winning after an intense and exhausting seven hours of playing that night. You wished that he could’ve been there. 

And then there were the reminders of him that were left around— his t-shirt that you’d never gotten around to giving back to him, his sunglasses that you didn’t realize you’d stolen until you were finally finishing unpacking your stuff from the Mexico trip, and the bear that he got you for Valentine’s Day that you refused to ever get rid of, but you eventually stuffed Hartford away in your closet instead of leaving him on your desk to make things feel easier. 

Anytime one of those moments happened where you randomly thought about him, you immediately reminded yourself of the rule and simply buried yourself further in whatever school assignment you needed to focus on, or made abrupt plans with Eddie, Robin, Vickie, or Talia. 

It was late in the month when Talia wanted to set you up with a guy from one of her classes, who she claimed would be “perfect for you.” Initially, you were hesitant— more so leaning toward no than yes— but he had the Talia stamp of approval, so you let it happen. She gave him your number and there were a handful of text messages shared between you two that led to a museum date a week later. 

It wasn’t terrible. But, your heart wasn’t in it at all, and neither was your head most of the time. And by the end of it, more specifically as you were in the elevator headed back up to your apartment, you realized that you probably wouldn’t see him again. 

When you walked into the apartment, you spotted Talia in the kitchen and the entire apartment smelled amazing; which, of course, didn’t surprise you at all.

“Hey, what are you making?” You asked as you pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the empty hooks next to the door. 

“I got bored, so I decided to do a quick roasted chicken. It’s in the oven now,” She said, shrugging as if that was entirely normal. It would never not amuse you how her boredom would always spur on elaborate meals. “So, how was the date?”

“It was fine. Good, actually,” You answered after the briefest moment of hesitation. “He was pretty cool and we had a lot in common and stuff. But, I don’t know… It just didn’t feel right, I guess. My head was in a different place a lot of the time. Thinking about other stuff.”

“About Steve?”

Hearing her say that, surprised you. “What? No. I haven’t talked to him in like a month.” 

She gave you a quick shrug. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t think about him.” 

“I guess that’s true, but I haven’t really thought about him,” You said. It was a small lie that you were okay with telling because you didn’t want to admit or even ponder what it meant that you did think about and were so easily reminded of him sometimes. 

“I’m kind of surprised that you two aren’t friends or something,” She told you as she went to grab something from the fridge. “I don’t think I could do a whole fake dating thing with someone and not, at least, be friends with them after it.”

You leaned back against the counter. “We came up with a bunch of rules when we started it, and that was one of them.”

“To not be friends after?”

“Not exactly that, but pretty much, yeah. The rule was to go our separate ways once the fake dating was done,” You shrugged. “Becoming friends was the last thing on both of our minds when we came up with that since we were basically strangers at the beginning of this. And when we were ending things, we both knew that it would be impossible to be friends after because of all of the lies that started this.” 

She looked at you then. “But we all know the truth now, though. So you two could be friends and none of us would question it.” 

Talia’s words made complete sense and they were something that you should’ve realized and thought about a lot earlier than this moment. You were quiet for what felt like forever because you didn’t know what to say in response. Your immediate reaction was to still say no, you couldn’t be friends with him, but if she followed up and asked why, you knew that you wouldn’t have an answer. 

When the oven started beeping, it felt like a very “saved by the bell” kind of moment. Talia pulled out the chicken from the oven and let the conversation shift from there. “You got back from your date just in time, by the way. You wanna try this?” 

“Of course, I’ll never turn down anything you make.”

You went to your room first to change out of your date outfit and put on some pajamas instead and then you joined Talia back in the kitchen. The chicken was quite literally perfect, which didn’t surprise you, and you retreated to your room for the night after you finished eating, while Talia put on a documentary that she had to watch for one of her psychology classes. 

As much as you tried to focus on anything else as you lay in your bed, you inadvertently spent the rest of the night thinking about Steve— it was too hard not to. 

You thought about every moment that you had been reminded of him over the past month— how it hadn’t felt like much at first, but when you thought about it all at once, it was a lot. You also thought about what Talia said and why you and he weren’t friends even though it was pretty obvious that you should be— what else could explain why you both had prolonged and dragged out the conversation in his car the night you two “broke up”? Neither of you had wanted to let the inevitable happen. 

All of this was about more than just following the rule to you. Of course, it was about more than just that. 

Deep down you knew exactly why you couldn’t listen to what Talia said— why you couldn’t text him, go to his place, or do anything else to lean into that short-lived friendship you two had that you actually had a feeling was still there— but right then you refused to admit it. 

Instead, you grabbed your phone and put on a random podcast just so you could use the noise to drown out your thoughts and force yourself to fall asleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t until a few days before finals that you thought about Steve again. It was kind of hard not to because you ran right into him— or more so tripped over him. 

The campus library during the week before finals week was probably one of the worst places to be, but you were in a last-second search for a book that you needed to do an essay on and you refused to buy it online because, for some reason, it was way too expensive.

Your eyes were trained solely on the spines of books as you searched for the one in particular when you tripped over something in the middle of the aisle. It wasn’t a full-on fall, just a very awkward stumble, but it somehow felt just as embarrassing. 

You let out an abrupt yelp in the middle of your stumble and heard a voice before you even got to see what caused you to trip. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You recognized Steve’s voice immediately and it sent a surprised jolt through you as you turned to look at him. He was leaned back against the long bookshelf with his legs stretched out and there was a textbook opened in his lap. He must’ve just been sleeping because you saw him rub his eyes and let out a quick yawn.

He looked up at you as he crossed his legs under him instead of having them stretched out in the aisle. He seemed as if he was surprised to see you too, but from the look on his face, you could tell that he saw it as a good surprise; you weren’t sure if you could say the same just yet. “Shit, now I feel worse knowing that I just did that to you.”

That got the smallest smile out of you. “Yes, you should feel a thousand times worse for almost ending my life.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sleeping here?” You asked. Both of you were keeping your voices low because you were on one of the quieter floors of the library. 

He shook his head. “I’m not sleeping. I was taking a break from studying for a test and just resting my eyes for a second.” 

“So sleeping?”

“A very brief nap,” He corrected.

“Ah, okay, got it,” You nodded, words coming out completely sarcastic. “Sorry for interrupting your very brief nap then.”

“Sorry for almost killing you.”

“Thank you.”

You knew that you should’ve let the brief conversation end there. You should’ve looked away from him then and continued searching for the book you needed to find. But, you didn’t. 

Instead, after the briefest moment of lingering silence between you two, you sat down across from Steve. The book and the essay that you needed to work on became the farthest things from your mind for the time being.

You didn’t have the strongest grasp on what you were doing right then and why you were doing any of it, but you decided not to question it. Instead, you simply did what felt good in the moment. 

You leaned back against the bookshelf opposite Steve and crossed your legs as well. “Hi.” 

He gave you a questioning look at first— maybe he was also expecting the conversation to end in that previous spot; like it would’ve with any other two people who weren’t really friends that had just randomly bumped into each other. 

But then, he was smiling, a genuine Steve Harrington smile that felt really nice to see. “Hey.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

a/n: ….. i'm sorry for the cliffhanger !!!!

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[roses-r-rosie3]

Hi! Can I request a male reader x hobie! Where m! Reader gets introduced to the friend group, looking like a mess, he thinks but hobie thinks otherwise, and clear marks on readers neck.. from Yk

Pls and Ty!

You & Me

Hobie Brown x M!Reader

Warnings: slight smut,

A/n 1: we are getting straight into the smut part so beware 🫣

A/n 2: Sorry if this feels rushed! I’ve just been really busy recently but I still want to give u guys something to enjoy

Quote: “God you reek of sex”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Fuck!” You groaned as you came inside of Hobie.

You moved back and forth inside of him, but you gradually slowed down before coming to a complete stop. You let out a sigh as you pulled out of him and collapsed next to him.

“That was amazing as always” you panted.

You and Hobie stayed in bed just cuddling with each other for a while until you got up and started to clean the both of you up with a warm rag.

“So, are you ready to meet my friends luv?” Hobie smiled.

“Yeah, I can’t wait! It’s next week right?” You asked.

“No, it’s in a couple of minutes” Hobie said.

“WHAT?! You knew that we were meeting your friends today and you decided to have sex with me!” You panicked.

You and Hobie had planned to meet his friends from the spider society at some concert that they all loved, months ahead of time. You were excited to meet them after all the stories Hobie would tell you whenever he got home from some crazy mission. And now all that planning might go to waste because you decided to have sex with Hobie last minute!

“Calm down, it’s not like they will notice” Hobie laughed.

“I have a huge hickey on my neck and we have to go in a few minutes!” You said.

“I’m sure they won’t notice” Hobie smirked.

You quickly cleaned both yourself and Hobie up before quickly changing, you didn’t even have time to do your hair!

“God you reek of sex” Hobie teased.

“And I wonder whose fault that is” you scolded.

When you and Hobie finally arrived at the concert, you were praying that his friends wouldn’t see the notice or hickey on your neck or your messy hair.

“Hey gang, this is my boyfriend y/n, y/n these are my friends, Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr” Hobie smiled.

You shook hands with all three of them as you introduced yourself to them and vice versa. All seemed well at first, until they noticed your messy hair.

“Did you just wake up?” Gwen asked politely.

You quickly realized what she was talking about and you had to make up a lie, quickly.

“Yeah, Hobie here forgot to wake me up today, so I didn’t really have much time to get my hair fixed up” you laughed nervously.

Everyone believed you at first, until the inevitable happened, and they saw the bruising on your neck. Both you and Hobie could tell that everyone knew, and Hobie just looked at you with a shit eating grin.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Fringe Benefits

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: “you’re spending more time at my desk than at your own” for Roy

Roy Kent x Reader 0.7k words Warnings: Language

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

You turned around, smiling at Roy as he strolled into his office. He raised his thick eyebrows at you, nodding a greeting. You wondered if he could see the way your eyes flickered down his figure, checking him out, the way you could never resist doing when you saw him.

You’d been working at A.F.C. Richmond for about three months now, having been hired by Keeley Jones to manage their PR. It was a fun job and, if you were being honest, the sight of Roy Kent in those track pants was definitely a perk.

“Hey,” you hummed. “I was just leaving you a note.” You nodded at the sticky note you’d begun to write on before the sound of his growling voice interrupted you. “Got those concert tickets for you and Pheebs for Friday. But make sure you post on your Instagram, alright?” You gave his arm a playful smack. “Or I’m never doing you a favor ever again.”

A smile broke out across that handsome face. “Fuck, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.” He paused, gazing at you thoughtfully. “This is what, the third time today you’ve been down here?” He narrowed his playful eyes at you. “I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at your own. What, you using me to get your fucking steps in?”

You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe your crush on Roy Kent was obvious to everyone at Nelson Road. Keeley teased you about it nonstop. The players, especially Jamie Tartt, often gave you sly, knowing smiles when they saw you make your familiar way to Roy’s office. Even little Phoebe had asked you if you were her Uncle Roy’s girlfriend when she met you at a Greyhounds match- a question she repeated every time you saw her, actually.

“Come on Kent, you know I just come visit you for the snacks.” To punctuate your point, you opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a sweet. With a wink, you popped the treat into your mouth.

Now Roy rolled his eyes at you as he approached you, standing a smidge too close, the way he’d been doing almost since the day you started working at Nelson Road. “And here I thought you came all the way down here for the pleasure of my company.”

Another sweet found its way into your mouth. “Ah, that’s just a fridge benefit, Coach.”

“Fringe benefit, eh?” Roy snorted, his cheeks tinging pink as he glanced down at the floor. Fuck, he looked adorable like this. How could a man look bashful and confident at once? And how could he look so damn good at the same time? “So, you’re basically using me to manage your sweets cravings, then?”

“Afraid so, Kent.”

He nodded as he glanced at you through his lashes. “Then maybe you let me buy you some kind of fruity drink after work today. For your cravings.” He smirked. “And the fridge benefit of my company.”

Could he see the way the color rushed to your cheeks? “O-oh. Yeah. That would be nice.” You took a step back towards the door, needing to run back to your office and call Keeley to squeal- and maybe ask her to come drop off a change of clothes. “I’ll see you after work then.” As you turned, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you suddenly felt, Roy cleared his throat.

“Oi.” You glanced over your shoulder, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his cocky grin. “And see if you can get one more ticket for that concert. You don’t have plans Friday, do you?”

Oh hell. If your smile got any bigger, your cheeks would probably crack. “I’m free,” you managed. “And I’d love to go to the concert with you guys.”

Roy nodded, looking nothing short of pleased. “Right. I should let you go back to your work, then.” His expression became teasing again. “I’m sure you’ll be back down here in an hour or so. I’ll have some snacks waiting for you.”

A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you shook your head at Roy. “I’m sure you will.” With a little wave, you strolled away, already coming up with another excuse to come back downstairs to visit Roy Kent.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of May. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) My Heart's In Overdrive, And You're Behind The Steering Wheel | Explicit | 1,649 words

Being late to class means Harry and Louis have to pose together for figure drawings. That being said, the hate each other, but maybe they don't?

2) It's A Question Of Lust, It's A Question Of Trust | Explicit | 2,258 words

Louis is shaken up after being assaulted at the barricade in Panama City and feels guilty, he can't get it out of his head. Harry knows what he needs to escape the worry. Harry steps over, speaking quietly into his ear. "Good boy, doing as I asked." He looks beautiful, his skin golden, dark nipples puckered, his cock starting to get hard. His breath already ragged. "Not that you always do, eh?" "Sir?" His blue eyes stare at Harry, nervous, uncertain. "Letting those tarts fondle and grope you after each show. When you know you belong to me."

3) If Walls Could Talk | Explicit | 2,394 words

Louis is waiting backstage for Harry after his second show in Coventry. It's their last night together before Louis leaves for his own tour. Harry's mission for the evening is to worship Louis' body and make him see himself through Harry's eyes.

4) In An Octopus's Garden With You | General Audiances | 4,682 words

Autistic alpha Harry, a teacher, spends an overwhelming day on a field trip to the aquarium. Luckily, his omega, Louis, knows just what he needs.

5) I Didn't Have To Search Cuz I Still Know Your Number| Explicit | 5,161 words

As Louis approaches the front of the old flat he sees a light on upstairs in what used to be their master bedroom. A memory flicks through Louis’ mind of Louis spread open on the duvet with Harry between his legs nipping and sucking on his hole while Louis whimpered and writhed, clutching the sheets and moaning out Harry’s name. Louis looks down to see his dick at half mass and sighs. Louis flicks the butt of the cigarette to the ground and pulls his phone back out of his pocket. He exits the Uber app and pulls up his contacts, scrolling down to the H’s until he lands upon Harry’s name in his phone. He pulls up their messages and sees the last time they talked was right after the break up all those years ago. Louis begins to type out a message to Harry, hoping he hasn't changed his number. Louis: U up? (sent at 1:14am)

6) You Have Me | Not Rated | 5,529 words

Louis is escaping his mundane reality, avoiding his fiancée, and going to an anonymous hook up party in the woods. When the mysterious stranger who has been eyeing him all night asks him to come back to his tent, Louis is game for anything. He doesn’t know that he’s going to get an offer he can’t refuse.

7) All My Life | Not Rated | 5,553 words

The four times Harry tries to propose and the one time he gets it right (or does he?)

8) Limping In The Limelight | Explicit | 5,832 words

Harry breaks his accessory navicular during a concert in Birmingham in 2015.

9) I Like to Watch | Explicit | 9,287 words

If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.

10) House Husband | Mature | 11,853 words

Louis and Harry are happily married with two beautiful kids. Harry is a lawyer who provides for his family and Louis is his sassy house husband. This is a week in their life.

11) For A Sushi Restaurant | Explicit | 13,345 words

And yet, in the depth of the sea, where water started to go from that sky blue to the dark petrol blue, almost black, of the unknown, creatures moved, ready to attack at a moment’s notice, sleek tails and pale, blueish skin helping them with mimesis. Or, cecaelia Harry and human Louis.

12) Peaches And Soft Myth | Explicit | 36,192 words

“Greta kissed me,” he said at last. It wasn’t the main issue, but it was a start. Louis’ smile was radiant. Eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Harry’s stomach felt a little funny, wishing he could feel as happy as the cheerleader. "Oh, my god? We did it! I’m a genius ! Was it long? Slow and sensual, full of lust and passion, tongues intertwined—" he gasped. “Did she tremble in your arms?” He hugged himself. “That’s not—” “No one believes me when I say I am a good matchmaker. They are always like, ‘Oh Louis, you have the worst eye for couples and men. You always miss the real connections.’ Who missed now? Not me. Nuh-hu, I saw the potential. Your grumpy attitude did not deter me. I'm probably the greatest matchmaker on campus. Don’t you think?” Louis’ smile faltered. “Wait… why do you look as if you were about to throw up?” “She told me her roommate leaves for a few days after spring break. She invited me to her dorm room.” “Okay?” Louis said slowly. “Am I missing something? Is it about clothes? Because I can totally find something—” Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not about that.” “Then what?” “I…” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m a virgin.”

13) The Maddest Obsession | Explicit | 100,974 words

One fears the dark. One rules it. Harry Styles, the dangerous mob enforcer, finds himself entangled with Louis, the strong-willed mafia-princess. As they navigate the treacherous underworld of New York, their forbidden love sparks a deadly game of loyalty, betrayal, and passion. Will their devotion to each other overcome the chaos surrounding them, or will their love be their downfall?

14) At Our Seams | Explicit | 185,290 words

Newly mated and happily engaged Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, are moving into a new phase of their lives. Together, their world felt complete. However, the world beyond their bubble has been strung into chaos. Political strife is raiding the streets and oppressive policies are being enacted everyday. Louis is desperate for something to change, to finally set the record straight for omegas and non-soulmate children everywhere. Harry is determined to keep his mate safe, even if it goes against Louis’ wishes. Unfortunately, he can’t control everything, and things quickly fall out of his hands. Who’s this new alpha who’s entered the beloved couple’s life, giving Louis another purpose Harry hadn’t been expecting? What happens when the soulmates don’t exactly see eye to eye? Will the protective alpha get his wishes, or will he concede to his cherished but oh, so stubborn omega? How strong are the seams that bind? Only time will tell.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[wild0moon]

eating up ur captain design............ /pos

can i ask how pico and captain met in your au (i think its an au anyway)?

very canon adjacent, but it's an au, yeah. my friend and i's funky little universe just to the left of canon where we take things too seriously, you feel me

short version: they happened to meet at a cop shop while pico was waiting for (yet another) police interrogation, weeks to a month after the events of pico's school. john took an interest in pico and offered, mostly as a joke, to teach pico how to handle a gun properly. what was supposed to be a one-off lesson for a quick bit of entertainment turned into regular practice sessions and accidental (but immediate) emotional attachment from both parties. whoops!

and if you'll indulge me, here's the long version, because it's been brewing in my brain recently and i guess my hand slipped

(WARNING: descriptions of and vague flashbacks to the events of pico's school)

💚💚💚💚💚

The police station was usually quiet at this time of day. Idle tapping of fingers against a keyboard, muffled sounds of cars passing outside or of people talking in another room, none obtrusive enough to disturb the thoughts swirling in his head.

Now though, he was entirely preoccupied by annoyance.

Shut up. Why are you so loud? If you don't like pigs, why did you even come in here?

Pico had seen the strange man in black from the corner of his eye, swaggering in like he owned the place, only to start chatting to the receptionist with all the warm familiarity of two former classmates who never really liked each other very much. Derisive whispers in Pico's head grew louder in concert with his rising stress, adding to the noise, birthing a cacophony he couldn't escape from.

The man went quiet, and for a brief moment, Pico was sure he felt eyes on him. His own gaze stayed firmly on his sneakers.

The receptionist finally piped up with something other than a disinterested hum. "That's, uh, that Pico kid. Pico Fulp?"

"Ohh, so you're the kid who shot up his school."

Pico's head snapped up.

In an instant, his vision was dyed red, blood running so hot it threatened to burn him up from the inside. He didn't know when he got to his feet, but he was already taking steps toward the man.

"It wasn't me!" he snarled, words bubbling up and bursting out before he could stop them. "It wasn't! Watch your fucking mouth or I'll break your jaw, you stupid—"

"I got it, kid, calm down," the man talked him down, in a far more stern tone than Pico had been ready for, stopping him in his tracks. Matter-of-factly, he added: "I don't care how tough you are, you've got another thing coming if you think you can break any bone in my body."

Pico grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

The white-hot fire of rage burnt out almost as quickly as it ignited, his little body only growing colder as he actually looked at the man standing before him, red giving way to black and white.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing sunglasses so dark it was almost impossible to see the inscrutable eyes behind them. He was uniformed — the army, not the police. Which rank was the three stripes for? Was the 'Captain' on the tag his rank, or his name?

Pico dared to speak up again. "It wasn't me," he repeated, far softer than before.

Captain turned bodily to face him. "I heard you the first time. So, what did you actually do?"

He looked away again, wringing his freshly scarred hands. "I... I stopped it, sir. I killed the shooters."

The slight movement of Captain's eyebrows snared the corner of Pico's vision. "Really now?"

"I... I found a big gun in the janitor's closet, they must've stashed it in there," the words spilled forth, as if he were back in that vile interrogation room already. "So I took it, and I shot them. All of them. There were four, a-and I didn't even know what I was doing, I was scared out of my mind, I'd never held a gun before in my life, I don't know how I—"

"You've never used a gun, but you still managed to take down four armed threats all by yourself?" There was a note of interest in Captain's voice, despite him crossing his arms.

Pico swallowed thickly.

"Please leave me alone!"

"I was told to just scare you! I wasn't gonna kill you!"

"...Two of them weren't moving, sir. I'd disarmed them, and they were afraid..."

Captain hummed. "Right. And the other two?"

No answer. Memories of callous men in blue giving him withering looks or laughing in his face when he told the truth kept his jaw clamped shut.

Captain lifted his head, looking around the otherwise empty room. "Where are your parents?"

A half-hearted shrug. "They don't want anything to do with me right now, sir."

They never did in the first place.

The soldier's thick eyebrows furrowed, but for the life of him, Pico wasn't sure what it meant. The man was as easy to read as a book with all its pages glued together. That, or he was just illiterate.

"I probably only lived because we were all just kids who barely knew what we were doing," Pico found himself saying, as if he hadn't also slaughtered a giant alien that day — Cassandra had been young and inexperienced in her own way, too. "If something like that happened again, I… I dunno."

Captain said nothing, just staring down at him, seeming thoughtful.

Silence fell over the room for a long moment, disturbed faintly by the nasty voices Pico had learned only he could hear. When the man's voice broke through the murmurs again, it hardly sounded any kinder.

"Look, if I were you, I'd stop pissing myself and go get some actual experience under my belt."

"But—"

He wasn't done. "You know where the gun range is, right? The one five minutes north of here? Meet me there at thirteen-hundred tomorrow. Even a minute late and the offer expires, got it?"

…What?

Pico lifted his gaze to meet Captain's, incredulous. "You mean... But, why would you help me?"

It was Captain's turn to offer a lazy shrug. "I'm bored outta my skull, and this is the most entertainment I've gotten in months."

He said that, but he didn't look very amused. Besides, a soldier like him surely didn't have time to waste on such petty entertainment as watching a child grappling with fear. Pico tried scrutinizing the man's face for a moment longer, unsure what he was even searching for, but quickly found himself at a loss.

The easy answer was that it was a genuine offer to help, to teach him how to properly handle a firearm and put that aspect of his trepidation to rest. Pico wasn't sure if he believed that, but for some reason, he really hoped it was true. That would mean that Captain saw something in him, something more than the unfortunate kid and murderer that the other adults saw, something worth taking a chance on.

Nice. This man, a total stranger, was being nice.

When was the last time anyone said something nice to him?

(Weeks ago, in a sterile hospital room, two hands gently clasping one of his own, their owner smiling in spite of the anxiety behind those pretty black eyes, the sweetest voice Pico had ever heard telling him over and over how everything was going to be okay—)

Pico shook his head, as if he could physically clear the memory away.

He's gone now. Stop thinking about him.

By the time Pico dragged himself back to the present, Captain was already on the way out, muttering something about the stench of hogs. Pico watched him walk away, until he disappeared from view.

"Prick," the receptionist muttered, returning their attention to their computer.

With little else to do, Pico returned to his seat. His own thoughts quickly took center stage as usual, but they were different now, looking tentatively to the future, rather than the bloody memories that tugged insistently at his back.

It had been a while since he had something to look forward to.

[ladykailitha]

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 6

The last part. Thank you everyone for all the love and support this little story has gotten. It’s been such a wild ride.

I have started writing the next part of “Can Anybody See Me?” but I really want to write Steve taking a recovering Eddie to the Ozzy Osborne/Metalica concert in Indy. So we’ll see what happens there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

*

Appendix: Sleeping Together

“Wait, wait,” Max said. “I thought we weren’t going to be talking about sex in this?”

“This isn’t about sex,” Eddie said with a grin. “I promise. Besides the last thing I want to discuss with you is my sex life.”

“Thank god for that,” she sighed. “Then what are we talking about?”

Depending on the person you may get a chance to fall asleep with them before you are together. This is how you navigate that with your feelings being what they are.

“Oh.”

Eddie smile was strained. “Yeah. Oh.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Max admitted. “It’s something Lucas and I used to do all the time.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It’s why I brought it up. In case it’s something that happens naturally while you’re wooing your jock.”

“Is that what happened with you and Steve?” she asked. “You just fell into it naturally.”

Eddie bit his lip. “You cannot tell the others about this. Steve doesn’t want anyone to know.”

Max straightened up. “I promise.”

Through the fog of sleep, Eddie could distantly hear the sound of a phone ringing. He looked over at his alarm clock bleary eyed. It was after three in the morning.

Distantly he could hear the ringing stop as Wayne answered the phone, the deep timbre of his uncle’s voice as he groggily spoke into the phone. He heard the sound of the phone being put down. He knew it wasn’t an emergency. Whoever it was would have used the walkie-talkie if it was.

Wayne knocked on the door to his bedroom. “Eddie, you awake?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, I’m up.” He got to his feet and answered the door. “What’s up?”

“It’s your boy, Steve,” Wayne said gruffly. “It sounds pretty bad.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” And as he passed his uncle he murmured, “He’s not my boy.”

Wayne chuckled. “Not yet, but I know how you get when you go a courtin’. You’ve been chasing that boy for months.”

Eddie blushed. “Some things are worth the wait.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Eddie hurried to the phone and picked it up. “Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry to call so late,” Steve whispered into the phone. “I had a nightmare that you bled out in my arms and needed to hear your voice.”

Shit.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured his assurances. “Do you want me to come to your place and keep you company awhile?”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before the tentative, “Yes,” came from the other end.

“I’m on my way, beautiful,” Eddie said. “Do you think you can unlock the door for me?”

There was a whine on the other end that Eddie took as a distinct NO.

“Is your window open?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“‘Kay, darlin’,” Eddie replied. “You keep it open for me and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“Holy shit,” Max said.

“Do you know you say that a lot?” Eddie asked.

“Oh fuck off,” she spat. “I didn’t realize he got nightmares like that.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t want you guys to know because if he breaks down then glue keeping the party from a full on meltdown is gone and he can’t–”

“He doesn’t want to be responsible for the implosion that would happen as a result,” she said softly.

“So don’t let the others know, okay?”

“You have my word on Billy’s grave,” she said solemnly.

Eddie nodded.

When Eddie got to Steve’s house he stood in front of it with his hands on his hips looking up at Steve’s window.

Shit.

There were some bushes and things in front the house but nothing that he use to climb up. He wander around to the back. He stood on one of the loungers and bounced, testing if it would take his weight.

Once he was satisfied that it would, he dragged it over to the side of the house and made his way to the up to the lower part of the roof. He scrambled over the tile on all fours trying not to slip and fall. He finally made it through Steve’s window to see the man pressed against his bedroom door, clutching his nail bat, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “It’s just me.”

Steve opened his eyes and sighed. He dropped the bat and lunged at Eddie, throwing his arms around his waist as he sobbed.

“Oh, hey there,” he murmured once he was sure they weren’t going to be tumbling through window and to their deaths. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Steve let out a little sigh. It was more like a hiccup but it wasn’t a sob and Eddie was going to fucking take that as a win.

Eddie bullied Steve over to the bed and immediately spotted a problem. There was barely enough room for Steve on the damn thing. He sighed. There was nothing for it. He laid down first and held out his arms for Steve to lay on top of him.

Steve went willing and curled his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he mumbled by way explanation.

“Ah.” That made sense. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Steve nuzzled his chest a moment. “Me, Nance, and Robin were fighting Vecna and suddenly I could hear Dustin’s screams. Just full on screaming. But I could tell he wasn’t...he hadn’t–”

“You knew he wasn’t the one hurt?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “We destroyed Vecna and I came running. But by the time I got there it was too late. You were cracking jokes trying to make Dustin feel better, and then you were gone.”

“That’s not what happened though,” Eddie reminded him gently. “I’m here all thanks to you.”

Steve sighed. “I know that. Objectively, I know that. But...”

“But there is nothing the mind loves more than the worst possible ‘what if...’,” he said gently.

Steve lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Do you...? I mean, have you had those thoughts?”

Eddie kissed his forehead. “Sure do, sweetheart. What if Jason and his friends caught me on Lover’s Lake? What if Jason had hurt Lucas and Max? What if Vecna won and everyone but me died?”

“Those are some pretty terrible what ifs,” Steve muttered, settling back down on Eddie’s chest.

“So let’s make a deal,” Eddie said. “When I have those dreams I call you and vice versa?”

Eddie could feel Steve’s smile against the plain of his chest. “I just have one condition.”

“What’s that, Stevie?”

“That you don’t tell people about me having nightmares,” he murmured.

“Why not?”

Eddie could feel the hot tears soak his shirt as Steve gripped it tight. “They expect me to the strong one. The one all this washes over, what do you think will happen if I break down?”

“They’ll see you’re human and cheer?” Eddie said.

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “If only.”

Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Steve and fought back tears of his own. Yeah. If only. But they both knew that wasn’t the case. The party would fucking riot. It would be beyond chaos, it would be outright pandemonium.

“So let me take care you,” he whispered. “Let me be the one to some of the burden of taking care of everyone else, by taking care of you.”

Steve lifted his head again. “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie gently pushed Steve’s head back on his chest and sighed. It was going to be a long night. For both of them.

Max smiled. “Thank you. On behalf of all of us. Even though they can never know. Thank you. Since the two of you started this, he’s been happier. He has more fun. And that’s all thanks to you.”

Eddie ducked his head. “I think it helps that I have been through all of what the rest of you have. Yes, my time in the Upside Down was traumatic but it’s still a drop in the bucket of what Steve has gone through.”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess navigating your emotions for sleeping in the same bed,” Max concluded, “is about putting their needs above yours?”

“Right in one, Red,” Eddie said. “It’s not easy. Not even close. But you’re there for them.”

She nodded.

Afterword:

They were all together again for another movie night when Lucas cornered Steve in the kitchen.

“Hey, Steve,” Lucas asked shifting from one foot to the other.

Steve looked up from the fridge where he was pulling out the sodas. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. Like romantic advice.”

Steve set the soda on the counter. “If you’re wanting to know how I bagged Eddie, the answer is I don’t know. I still can’t figure it out.”

Eddie walked in just as Steve said the line and started laughing. “Some day I’ll explain it to you, sweetheart.”

Lucas looked dejected, but Steve patted him on the back. “You’ll get there, too.”

Eddie followed Lucas out to the front room and winked at Max. She smiled back and walked up to Lucas, taking some of the sodas from him to help.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “I was going to the skate park on Sunday to work on a new trick. You want to come watch?”

Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? Anyone else gonna be there?”

She shook her head. “Not anyone we know anyway, there might be some other kids out there though.”

Lucas smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” she said. “We can go together. You can bike and I’ll skate.”

Steve came up behind Eddie and wrapped his arms around his waist and put his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “You think there is hope for those two?”

“If she follows my guide to dating an oblivious jock,” Eddie teased, “I’m sure she’ll do fine.”

“Your what?!”

Eddie cackled and tried to escape but Steve held him tight. “You are an absolute menace, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie turned just enough to peck Steve on the lips. “Yes, but I’m your menace, Steve Harrington.”

Steve cocked his head to the side and then spun Eddie around so that they were facing each other. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eddie threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips. “By the way, getting your jock alone is step three or four depending on your jock.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve murmured. “What are steps one and two?”

Eddie gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Like I said in the kitchen, Stevie, I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise.”

“Oi!” Dustin called from the center of the floor. “Can you two stop being so disgusting for two minutes so we can start the movie?”

“I’ll hold you to that, sunshine,” Steve said and then let Eddie go.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and led him to the sofa where Robin was already waiting for them.

As the movie started, Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head and looked over at Max and Lucas who were chatting excitedly about the new move Max was learning.

Yeah, they were going to be just fine.

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[its-time-to-write]

chapter 2

I’m going to write a book someday, I swear and none of you people are going to know it’s me but if/when I do it’s going to be a football (soccer) romance because apparently that’s all I can write.

table of contents

i would die for you in secret

It all goes strangely quick; from the doctor’s appointments to the baby shower to holding Clare (the tiniest thing you’ve ever seen) to your chest as she continues to take her first breaths. She has your last name and she’s just so fucking small.

The name Bean sticks and it’s apt because she’s about the size of one. 

You’ve whittled down your clients and passed them off to colleagues for the past seven months, and the only one left is the same client that started you as a manager. They’re a small band (in size, not in following) and you just couldn’t bear to part with them. So you don’t, which is why Clare is two months old and with her nanny while you’re in your office meeting with the frontman.

“I think this is a bad idea,” you tell Calum, but he’s only half-listening.

“Why’s that?” asks his girlfriend and bassist Sarah. Unlike Calum, she’s actually paying attention but that still doesn’t mean she’ll agree with you.

You frown. “For the obvious reasons. I’m tired. I haven’t been out of my house in three months. I have a hard time showering regularly.”

Sarah shrugs. “That’s a load of shit, and you know it. You’re a damn good manager. You should come.”

You want to go to their concert, you really do. It’s just complicated. In all the time you’ve managed them they’ve hardly asked a thing from you. Calum was the one who got you the job despite the fact that band management wasn’t necessarily a skill you possessed.

“You’re a perfectionist,” he had said. “You’ll pick it up.”

You had, and it was exciting, but you’re just not sure going to their concert is a good idea.

“You’ll have your own dressing room,” Calum chimes in. “Comes with snacks.”

You waver for a moment. “Is there a couch?”

“Obviously,” he grins. “C’mon, stop being such a mum for a night. We’ll make sure everything is taken care of.”

—

Calum was right. Everything is taken care of, which means you have time to think. It’s been exactly eleven months since you last saw Jamie and despite Madeline’s best efforts to dress up and have a proper girls’ night tonight, you’re able to think properly think about him for once.

You hate it.

Madeline notices, of course she does, so she grabs your hand, sings in your face, and swings your arms so you don’t think of Jamie or of Bean, asleep in some back room with baby headphones and the nanny.

It’s a good set. Possibly the band’s best ever, so you hug them extra tight before beelining your room to hold Clare. You thank the nanny, slip her a backstage pass, and point her in the direction of the band. Madeline’s waiting in the hallway to lead the way (and flirt with the pianist) so when the door closes you are well and truly alone. 

Or, as alone as you can be with a baby.

You pick Clare up, flip off all the lights but one, and settle into the couch. She’s hungry and you’re tired, but Madeline’s driving tonight so it doesn’t matter. 

Roughly one month before Clare was born, you’d googled Jamie. For research, obviously, he’s the father of your child in the most technical sense of the word, so it’s natural to take an interest, right?

You’d breathed fucking hell, with your whole chest when the first articles and pictures had popped up. Apparently, Jamie had quit football (speculated to be due to the new gaffer from America) and joined the cast of Lust Conquers All, a show Madeline joked about going on but never did. You’re glad, now. And then he just disappears.

No recent posts on his socials, no outrageous news articles, nothing. You’d think he’s dead but that would certainly attract media attention so it’s more likely he’s partying in Ibiza where everyone is too intoxicated to care if the person they’re dancing on is a celebrity or not.

You decided right then and there that Clare would absolutely fucking not know about her father until she was at an appropriate age. What that age would be, you were supremely unsure. 

And of course, once she was born, it just made the choice all the easier. How could you corrupt something so innocent, so pure? No, Bean didn’t need to know her father was a royal fucking tart (pun most viciously intended).

“How’d you like your first concert, Bean?” you murmur, back in the present.

She doesn’t say anything, just blinks her eyes slow like she’s going to fall asleep again.

“Me too, girl,” you say. “Mummy is fucking knackered. And ready to retire. And maybe move to Majorca. You’d like it there, I think.”

It’s quite. You hear the low hum of people talking far away and the white noise of the auditorium, but otherwise you sit and enjoy the peace in the dark. 

You must have drifted off because you dream that the door opens and Jamie walks in. You suppose that’s what you get for thinking about him so much, and for holding his baby right now. He looks like he did on LCA, new hair and a slight slump to his shoulders. He’s more clothed in your dream, wearing awful skinny jeans that you had begged him to throw out on more than one occasion.

“They said you were back here,” dream-Jamie says. “And I saw fucking Madeline so I knew you weren’t far.” He stands in the doorway and it isn’t until Clare makes a noise that you realize you are very much awake.

He reaches for the light and you say a sharp “Don’t!” so he doesn’t, just freezes and looks so awfully sad that you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

But Clare’s here, and so Jamie is no longer on your list of people to care for. 

He says, “You alright?” and damn you still want to kiss him.

Instead you say, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Time doesn’t exist in this little dark room, the closest Clare will ever have to her family being together. Jamie says, “The lads and I- we’ve got a night off.”

“The lads.”

“From Richmond,” Jamie explains. “Gaffer took me back after I left City. We’ve been getting on.”

“You were at City again?” you ask before you can stop yourself. That’s news to you. As is the fact that Jamie is apparently friends with his teammates at Richmond. You were unaware that he thought much of them, or that they particularly liked him.

“Yeah, I-” he stops. “Is that a baby?”

You’d forgotten how well he sees in the dark. It’s a stupid question, and you won’t answer it. Jamie comes closer. “It is. The fuck did you get a baby from?”

You don’t say anything and Jamie blows out a breath. “Fucking hell. You’re with some bloke, have his kid, and here I am, stood like a fucking idiot.” He sighs again and rubs his face. “Fucking hell.”

He sits gingerly on the couch as if he expects you to reach out and slap him. Clare’s asleep, so you detach her from your chest, cover up, and position her comfortably in your arms. You have no idea when Madeline is coming back and until now, that hadn’t been a problem. 

Jamie smells the same, which might be the worst part because now you’re thinking of all the times he held you and the fact that he was actually a decent boyfriend for a while before deciding to be the world’s most massive prick. 

“Who is he, then?” Jamie asks. “Footballer? Musician? Doctor? Shit, tell me it ain’t that arsehole from Leeds.”

You say, “It’s not,” and hope Jamie will get the hint that you are not talking about this. 

He doesn’t.

“Came here to try to fix things,” he says. “I’ve been working on meself recently. Keeley broke up with me ages ago, said all this shit about accountability, and I dunno, it must’ve stuck.”

“Was that before or after the jacuzzi?” you pointedly ask, and Jamie winces.

“Alright, yeah, fair enough. After. Thought about you the whole time, not in the jacuzzi, you know what I mean, since we- since the last time I saw you and when I heard you were here it seemed like another chance. Makes fucking sense, though. Most people aren’t as stupid to let you go. Can’t believe you’ve got a whole fucking kid, though,” he continues. “Mad, innit? And you’re two years younger than me. Wouldn’t want one till I’m at least thirty, so I got four years left to fuck around. She’s a cute little bean, though.”

His words are a knife. 

They’re a reminder why Clare is yours and no one else’s. (Maybe Mads’s too, but she tells you at least once a day that Clare is the only child she’ll even tolerate). Jamie has no interest in fatherhood, in responsibility, in anything other than trying to fuck you. 

But it doesn’t help that he’s called her Bean, because it’s making your brain conjure domestic scenarios of the three of you as a happy family. Changing diapers at midnight together, or watching Clare eat a cupcake on her first birthday. Videoing her first steps to send to her grandparents. 

Jamie has lapsed into silence. But it’s a strange silence, and he’s looking at Clare’s face with just a hint of confusion.

“Oi,” he says, “that’s not- she’s not-”

You’re saved from replying by Madeline throwing open the door.

“Tartt,” she says venomously. She stomps toward him and grabs his ear. “Get the hell out!” She pulls him out the door and slams it shut behind him. The noise wakes Clare and she begins crying. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Bean,” Madeline coos, “I’m sorry.” She looks at you. “You alright?”

You shrug. “Surprised it took you so long to get here. Your radar’s usually better than that.” 

She grimaces. “I was distracted by an exceptionally attractive pianist who happened to mention that arsehole was here somewhere. I would have been here sooner but,” she gestures to her smudged lipstick.

You grin despite yourself. “Do you want to go back?”

Madeline shakes her head. “No, seeing Tartt has turned my stomach. You ready to go home?”

You nod your head, gather Clare’s things, and successfully make it home with no further trace of Jamie.

next chapter

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 6 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: PG-13 (whole fic M, minors DNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! This chapter has been a long time coming. Hope you enjoy~~

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6 | ch 7 | epilogue

The whirring of the hotel elevator reverberates through your head as you, Namjoon, and Jungkook ride up to your floor. You landed, finally, in another city after what should have been a direct, three-hour flight turned into a thirty-six hour travel nightmare. You were supposed to arrive on Saturday night and have all of Sunday to prepare for a week’s-worth of depositions. It’s your first class-action suit and you wanted to be fully prepared for Monday morning, but thanks to the reroutes, thunderstorms, and airplane malfunctions, every moment you spend with your eyes open is another moment without sleep. 

The firm booked a three room suite for the trip, for strategizing purposes, apparently. You suspect it was just cheaper, but at this point, you would take anything that has a bed. 

Namjoon sags against the wall of the elevator. Jungkook, the traitor, can fall asleep anywhere and managed to get some rest on the plane, but even he’s clutching the handle of his luggage for dear life. A headache that started at the beginning of your last flight pounds behind your eyes. You’re ready to wash the smell of airplane out of your hair and you desperately need to brush your teeth. Sweet, crisp hotel linen is in your future and it’s the only thing keeping you going. 

Before you left for the trip, you had the idea to sneak into Jungkook's room if the opportunity presented itself. Things have been going well with your maybe-boyfriend. You're still not sure what you are, and you're not in any hurry to define anything, especially since you blush like an idiot schoolgirl with a crush every time you see Namjoon. Namjoon, whom you have seen more in the past thirty six hours than you have in the last month. Endless meetings have kept him out of the office. Still, every time you see him, you can't help but notice Jungkook's eyes tracking him too. Things felt a little awkward at the airport as you waited for your flight, the conversation stilted, hesitant.

The elevator dings, and the door opens. Not that can spare more than a passing thought to all of that now. Your legs feel like lead, and you send up a quick prayer that the room isn’t in the furthest corner of the hotel, and that the keycard works once you get there. If the keycard doesn’t work, you may just curl up in a ball on the hallway carpet. 

Namjoon waves the keycard in front of the reader a few doors down from the elevator. It beeps green and you sigh in relief as the door opens to a kitchenette and a small living area. 

At first, you think you’re seeing things, that you’re just too tired to see the other bedroom doors branching off from the living room. That if you rub your eyes enough, two more rooms will materialize. Because this can’t be right. You get closer to the door to investigate, Namjoon and Jungkook behind you. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Yeah, no. When all you wished for was a bed, you didn’t mean one singular bed. 

You’re the first to take action, locating the room phone and dialing reception. It doesn’t take long to confirm your worst fears. There was a mistake in your booking and thanks to conventions and concerts in town, the hotel has no other available rooms for the night. 

“So you’re saying there’s nowhere else for us to stay.” 

“The couch in the living room should be a pull-out couch?” At least the receptionist sounds appropriately apologetic on the other end of the line. 

You gesture to the couch, but as Jungkook tries to remove the cushions, they stay firmly attached to the base. 

You sigh into the receiver. “It’s not a pull out couch.” 

“All our couches are supposed to be pull-out couches,” she says in dismay. 

“Maybe this one sprouted legs and switched places with a regular couch.” You wince as the words come out of your mouth. It’s not her fault, you try to remind yourself. Don’t shoot the messenger.

“I do apologize ma’am. Normally, I would be able to resolve this issue but we don’t have any other rooms available…”

The poor girl sounds like she’s about to burst into tears. You can’t help sighing once more into the receiver. “I understand, but I expect this issue will be resolved in the morning? A three bedroom suite for the duration of our stay.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Understood, ma’am.”

The click of the phone into the receiver echoes through the quiet room. When you look up at Jungkook and Namjoon, they look back at you with dumbfounded expressions. 

“You’re mean when you’re cranky,” says Jungkook. 

You don’t have the energy to send a glare his way. 

“So, what do we do?” asks Namjoon. 

It’s clear none of you can think straight, not after all the regional airports and middle seat economy seats. No one moves. Your headache goes from pounding to piercing, and you pinch your nose to help you think. 

The clock on the bedside table ticks over to three a.m. You have had enough.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We have—shit—five hours before we have to be out the door. We’re all exhausted, we all need sleep. This is king size bed. There’s plenty of space for all three of us.” 

A look of panic comes over Namjoon’s face. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

You let out a bark of a laugh. “I can’t even stretch my legs out on that thing.” 

“I have to, it’s—“ 

“Go sit on the couch Namjoon, see if you can stretch your legs out.” 

He does. It’s almost comical how hard he tries to stuff himself into a comfortable position.

“See? We’re only getting a few hours of sleep, so we’re all gonna do this on a comfy bed. You know how important this meeting is tomorrow. If it doesn’t go well, all our prep will be for nothing.”

They still look dubious. You feel delirious with exhaustion. 

“Look, we’ll do this. It’ll be me, then Jungkook, then Namjoon.” You gesture to the bed, indicating where each person will sleep. “There’s plenty of room, we don’t even have to touch each other.” 

Jungkook nods along, but Namjoon makes a choked sound. “But you guys are dating.”

You and Jungkook share a look. Even thinking about doing anything remotely intimate is exhausting. Jungkook looks like he can barely keep his eyes open.

“That is the furthest thing from my mind, but if you’re worried, you can be in the middle.” 

He opens his mouth to protest again, but you put up a hand. “I don’t care what order we sleep in. I’m taking this edge, but I’m gonna shower first.” 

Showering is a sweet relief, and the warmth of the water eases your tired muscles. As you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, you don’t even have it in you to be self-conscious about being in your pajamas around Namjoon, or to get all swoony about sleeping next to him. You start dozing off as soon as you tuck yourself between the covers, eyes heavy and mind tired. The sounds of the guys getting ready for bed sound distant to your ears. You don’t feel the dip in the bed as Namjoon gets in next to you, your dreams already swirling with depositions and settlements. 

“I had to share a bed with my colleagues. This is unacceptable.” 

The receptionist, a different one from the one you talked to on the phone, glances over to Namjoon and Jungkook and fails to cover a smirk. Infuriatingly, they look refreshed and handsome as ever. You tried your best to look presentable, but it’s like you can feel the lack of sleep hanging in bags under your eyes. No amount of concealer could hide that. 

“I am so sorry. That must have been an awkward night.” 

“Don’t give me that look. I barely got any sleep.” 

She lets out a strangled giggle.

“And not because of that either. They both snore like grandpas who need CPAP machines. Will the suite be ready for us by this afternoon, or not?” 

There’s a slow heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s dragging you up to consciousness. 

Your mouth feels like cotton and just thinking that thought feels like someone reached into your head and squeezed your brain. How much did you drink last night? 

You don’t want to be awake right now. You don’t even know if it’s worth it to be alive right now.

Maybe if you close your eyes even tighter, you can convince yourself you’re not awake. You snuggle in closer and try to will yourself back to sleep.

A thought floats slowly to the surface. Your arm is wrapped around a waist, but it is not the enviably tiny waist you're used to.

You don’t panic, not at first. 

You crack open an eye only to squeeze it shut again. Morning sunlight streams in from the open window, sending a piercing pain through your head.

But… was that…? 

You look again, squinting against the brightness. Yes, confirmed. That is Jungkook’s tattooed arm draped across the same torso you’re clinging onto. You lift your head, blearily seeing that the has his head tucked into a neck. And that neck is attached to… 

Now you’re wide awake, your stomach flipping in surprise. 

How the hell did you end up sleeping on top of Namjoon? 

You poke Jungkook’s arm and you want to strangle him when he makes a bothered, mumbled noise and burrows his head deeper into Namjoon’s neck. The movement makes him stir, a deep grumble going through his chest. You feel it more than hear it. Your stomach does a funny flop again. 

Several things happen at once: 

1) Jungkook opens his eyes and freezes when he sees it’s not you he’s cuddling. 

2) Namjoon wakes up and clocks that you and Jungkook are sprawled on top of him. “This has to be a dream,” he mutters, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

3) You realize the funny feeling in your stomach isn’t because of Namjoon’s morning voice. 

No, your stomach feels funny because you had one too many cocktails the night before. And several glasses of champagne. Stumbling back to the hotel room with Namjoon and Jungkook, who were just as shitfaced as you. You all tumbled in through the door together and — 

Fuck. 

You’re about to puke up the contents of your stomach. You bolt upright, pushing past the tight embrace of Namjoon’s arms around you. The only thing more mortifying than waking up as one of the slices of bread in a Namjoon sandwich would be to throw up all over the glorious sandwich. You make it to the bathroom, barely.

As you’re decanting the contents of your stomach, flashes of the day before come back to you. The claimants settling before noon on Tuesday. Celebratory cocktails for happy hour. Ordering too much sushi. A second round at a karaoke bar. Pulling Jungkook and Namjoon by their ties to your bedroom. 

The rumble of deep voices comes from your bedroom as you hug the porcelain bowl. You’re never having alcohol again, you decide. 

Once your stomach settles, you pull yourself to your feet. Your reflection in the mirror startles you. You look like shit, your hair knotted and tangled, mascara smudged under your eyes. The thought of Jungkook—let alone Namjoon—seeing you like this makes you want to heave again. 

Wait, no. You do have to heave again. 

It takes twenty minutes for you to be sure that your stomach won’t rebel again, and for you to wash your face and brush your teeth. Your hair, you decide, is a lost cause. You pull on a robe before leaving the bathroom, because even if you made a mistake and slept on your boss in your undies, you sure as hell don’t want to parade around without pants. 

Namjoon and Jungkook sit on opposite sides of the bed when you come out of the bathroom, two feet of space between them. Jungkook looks like a dream, because life is unfair, and he always looks like a dream. Namjoon, mere mortal, looks like someone that just woke up after a night of drinking, face a little puffy, and hair sleep-mussed. They’re in similar states of undress as you, in undershirts and boxers. 

Namjoon notices you first, but Jungkook speaks first.

”Are you okay?” 

His voice is hoarse. He always goes too hard at karaoke. 

“I’ve been worse,” you say, voice croaky from all the karaoke and all the puking. You clear your throat and try again. “I can’t remember when, but this is surely not the worst. Um, how are you guys doing?” 

Jungkook looks down at his hands, his gaze flitting to Namjoon. 

Namjoon scrubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, his deep morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t know what happened.” 

“We drank too much is what happened,” says Jungkook under his breath. 

Namjoon shakes his head. “Drinking is never an excuse. It wasn’t appropriate.”

You sink into an armchair in the corner of the room. “I’m pretty sure it was me who dragged both of you in here.”

“‘A win calls for a cuddle.’” Jungkook imitates you in a high voice. 

If you had a pillow and the energy, you would chuck it at him. 

A little crease appears between Namjoon’s brows as he frowns. “Still…” 

“I need an aspirin if we’re going to keep talking about this,” you say. Your gut is a jumble of embarrassment, satisfaction, and yearning, and combined with the queasiness, you want to hit pause on this conversation. It takes you a second to muster up the energy to heave yourself off the armchair, but you get up, somehow, and go to your suitcase to take out the bottle of painkillers you always carry with you. “Want one?” 

They both nod, looking as miserable as you feel. 

You make your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. They follow you like little ducklings, copying you as you swallow down the medicine and several gulps of water. It brings sweet relief to your scratchy throat. You want to chug the entire glass, but the water sloshes around in your empty stomach, making you feel a little sick. The clink of the glass on the counter shoots through your brain. You climb onto the barstools by the kitchen counter and rest your head on the counter, the cool marble soothing. Your headache starts to fade a little, but not by much. 

“I’m sorry,” says Namjoon into the silence.

“Stop apologizing,” you say into the counter, words muffled. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” You hope the words sound sincere coming out of your mouth, but a voice inside of you keeps repeating that you don’t regret it at all. Not when you can still feel the warmth of him beneath you, the tight squeeze of his arms around you, too. 

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t appropriate. I’ll report myself to HR when we return to the office.” 

You sit up, room swaying a bit. Jungkook stands against the counter, worrying his lip ring with his teeth. Namjoon grips his water glass so tightly you fear he’s going to break it. 

“Did something beyond sleeping happen, and I’m not remembering?”

A look of panic comes over Namjoon’s face. “I don’t think so.” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “No.” 

“Okay, then. We’re all adults here. I wasn’t touched in a way I didn’t want to be touched.” You try not to cringe as the half-confession slips from your lips. “Did you feel uncomfortable Namjoon?” 

“No, but that’s not the point.” Your stomach does a funny flip and this time it is because of him. He doesn’t regret last night. “I’m your boss, and there’s a power im—“

“Jungkook,” you say, turning to him. “Were you touched in a way that you didn’t want to be touched?” He shakes his head. “Were you in a situation you didn’t want to be in?” He shakes his head again. 

Something shifts in the silence that follows. Everything has been all but said, and you’re left feeling unbalanced. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol still talking. The throbbing behind your eyes makes it hard to think straight. 

“There you go.” You put your head back on the countertop, unable to look at either of them directly. 

“Still—“ Namjoon starts. 

You hold up a hand without raising you read. “Stop beating yourself up about it. The worst thing we did was sleep in the same bed together. It’s not like this is the first time, anyway.” 

Someone chokes on water. You keep your eyes closed, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. 

No one says anything for a while. 

Just as you’re about to fall asleep hunched over the counter, Jungkook’s quiet voice jars you back to reality. 

“What’s the plan now?” 

“What do you mean?” comes Namjoon’s response. 

“We’re supposed to be here all week for these depositions, but now that they’ve settled…” 

“I’ll check with the firm.” 

You hear movement in the kitchen, clothes rustling, glasses being placed down. When you muster the energy to sit up, only Jungkook remains. He looks lost in thought, staring into space. 

“I’m gonna shower.” 

He only gives you a grunt in response, eyes focused on another plane of existence.

You stand under the spray until your skin is red and wrinkly. When you come out, the sight of the rumpled bed reminds you of how warm and tight Namjoon’s embrace as around you, how right it felt to be with the two of them in the same space. You want to wail, because you got a taste of the impossibilities you’ve been dreaming of. It would have been best to leave it to your imagination. Why did you have to give in to your drunk impulses? 

You pull on the closest comfy clothes that look clean and go to sit in the living room. Jungkook, also freshly showered, sits on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. The way he’s looking through his feed, you can tell he’s not processing what he’s seeing. You slump down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. He takes his hand in yours, thumb tracing slow circles on the back of your hand. The repetitive motion almost puts you to sleep. 

“Oh.” 

You open your eyes to see Namjoon in the doorway, looking at you two on the couch as if he walked in on something forbidden. He starts to back out of the living room. You sit up, and take your hand back. Or maybe Jungkook takes his hand away; you’re not really sure.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt—“

“No, you aren’t. We were waiting for you,” says Jungkook. 

You feel like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Namjoon looks like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to run away or come closer. The three of you are standing on a knife’s edge, waiting for something to tip you to one side or the other.

“Did you get in touch with the firm?” clarifies Jungkook. 

Air fills the room again, and you slump back into the couch, winded. Back to pretending like everything is okay, then. Like nothing has changed between the three of you.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Yeah, we’re staying as planned.” 

It’s Friday night, and the three of you are outside of the hotel waiting for a cab. Namjoon made a reservation on Yoongi’s recommendation for a trendy new restaurant that just opened. The cold, February air has a bite to it, and you pull your coat tighter around you. 

The world felt askew all of Wednesday and Thursday, as if you were on a ship permanently tilted by waves.  Work kept your mind off things, for the most part. As soon as Namjoon made the call Wednesday morning, Jimin and Hoseok got to work and scheduled a full afternoons of meetings for the remainder of your time on your trip. When you weren’t in meetings, you were in your room, sitting cross-legged on your bed as you answered emails and drafted briefs. 

During your free time, you had to remind yourself to act normally around Namjoon, as if acting normal was the only thing keeping everything from careening out of control. Every time you looked at Namjoon, he was either turning his gaze away from you, or looking at Jungkook with a sad expression on his face. Jungkook, on the other hand... you were worried he would chew off his lip piercing with how much he fiddled with it as he worked. 

Though by Friday morning, things felt like they settled down, with normal, easy banter between the three of you. It felt like a relief to laugh, and not feel on edge. You’re looking forward to going back home, to settling back into your normal routine. 

“Oh hey,” says Jungkook as he checks his phone, “it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“Is it?” Your breath puffs out in a small cloud and you try to suppress a shiver. The longer the car takes to arrive, the more you’re regretting sacrificing warmth for fashion. You’re wearing your warm winter coat, but your legs are bare under your dress. 

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders and rubs your arms to warm you up. He whispers into your ear, “Will you be my Valentine?”

Even though he whispered it, you see Namjoon stiffen out of the corner of your eye. 

You scoff and push Jungkook away, rolling your eyes, in an attempt to clear the tension. “It’s a stupid capitalist construct.” 

“C’mon, I’ll buy you discount chocolate tomorrow.” He pouts and gives you puppy dog eyes. 

Had you been alone, you would have made him beg for it. With Namjoon present, though, you want to kill Jungkook for acting like this.

Thankfully, the cab pulls up before he can do anything else. 

“Okay, but only because no one else is going to put up with your annoying ass.”

Luckily, there’s no more talk of Valentines on the way to the restaurant. You worry a bit if you’re going to be surrounded by lovey-dovey couples and if that will make the whole evening even more awkward, but unlike other places, there’s no red hearts plastered everywhere, no romantic candlelit tables with pink confetti. 

You get distracted by the good food in front of you and by the end of the main course, you forget about the tense atmosphere of the beginning of the night. A couple of drinks and everything gets right back to normal, the alcohol softening the edges of all the emotions you’ve been feeling. It finally feels like you’re at ease, like the three of you can go without blushing every time you make eye contact. It feels normal, instead of illicit, when Jungkook slips his hand onto your thigh under the table.

You’re laughing at a story Namjoon is telling about his first trial out of school, embarrassing in the moment, but hilarious in hindsight.

“Hey, hey, if it isn’t Rap Monster!” 

“Oh no.” Namjoon cringes as he twists to see who called out. 

Rap Monster? You try not to laugh as you exchange confused looks with Jungkook. 

“Who’s that?” asks Jungkook. 

“My past,” says Namjoon with a rueful smile. He gets up to greet the newcomer, a lean brunette with all the attitude of a carefree frat boy. 

“Hey man, how’s it going?” The man extends a hand out in a handshake.

“Hey Jackson. All good man.” Namjoon takes it and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “These are my colleagues.” He introduces you and Jungkook. “This guy was my freshman year roommate in college and we went to law school together.” 

“Oh, the stories I could tell…”

“Please tell us about Rap Monster,” you say. 

Jackson lets out a loud laugh. “Believe it or not, Namjoon was an underground rapper back in the day.” 

“No way.” 

“You never mentioned that!” says Jungkook. 

“With a name like Rap Monster, I’d like to leave that in my past.” 

“I’ll send you a link on YouTube,” says Jackson in a stage whisper, winking dramatically. He turns to Namjoon. “You should have told me you were in town for work! We haven’t caught up in ages.” 

“Big case. Took up all my spare brainpower, you know?” 

“Last big case, then? Rumor mill says you’re moving on.” 

You go cold. Namjoon’s eyes go wide, and he tries to get Jackson to stop talking, but Jackson keeps talking, unaware. You and Jungkook look at each other, then back at Namjoon, who looks like he’s watching a train wreck in slow motion. 

“What’s that all about, bro? Jumping ship just as we all thought you were about to make partner at Bang & Associates.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

A/N 2: Sorry for the cliffhanger 😘 Next installment coming soon, I promise! I'd love to hear from you if you have any comments!

©sowoozoo-7 2024

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[jayswritings13]

Hazbin/Helluva: Asking to go to the Eras tour/Barbie movie

Note: Can't ever forget girl summer of 2023💖

💗Masterlist | AO3

Charlie & Vaggie have been waiting and waiting to see the Barbie movie since it was announced. Charlie has had your outfits planned months in advance and Vaggie helped decorate part of the hotel for the premiere night, turning the hotel into a Barbie dream house. It has been months and the three of you are still finding glitter on the main entrance carpet.

Alastor is absolutely against any music that does not involve jazz. He refuses to even play into the idea of going with you, which you expected. Though he does find it sickeningly nice of you ask, sweetheart.

Husk immediately tells you no, while looking up showing times for the Barbie movie. He buys the tickets after hearing enough of you talking and talking about it. He grumbled the whole way in, but you caught him laughing and invested in the movie, despite what he says.

Angel Dust bought the Eras tour tickets before you could even suggest going. He is so fucking hyped. He expects you to dress up in your favorite era and you better know all the goddamn words, bitch. He will cry if you make friendship bracelets with him and share them.

Sir Pentious is confused mainly. He's tried to go to Angel and have him explain this Taylor Swift and the Eras, but cannot seem to understand it all. He wanted to impress you with his knowledge after you asked him to go with you. It's cute, even if he isn't getting it.

Lucifer had fucking tickets before they were announced. He surprised you with them, a bright smirk on his face. He knew how much you wanted these and he is more than happy to do whatever he needs to do to ensure that you have a great time.

Vox wants so badly to be Reputation, but he is so 1989. He is all for this concert for the publicity and VIP treatment. Also, just to splurge some money on you. Okay, a lot of money. But, he puts his foot down at being forced to dress up as 1989 or Speak Now. He wants to be Reputation and just let him have it, damn it.

Velvette has been planning her fucking outfits since the tour was announced. She's not that into Taylor whatever, but she wasn't stupid and knew how much of an Internet sensation this was gonna be. She had to go, and if she was, might as well bring you along.

Adam laughs in your face. He can't believe that you would honestly fucking suggest going to see Taylor Swift with him. He makes fun of you for thinking that that was a smart move, but begrudgingly goes with you anyway. But, you fucking owe him, big time.

Lute would rather see Oppenheimer than Barbie. She tries everything to convince you to drop the Barbie movie from the Barbenheimer movie marathon you suggested, but no dice. Once you offered to see Oppenheimer more than once and a few other movies that she wanted to see, does Lute actually join you for the Barbie movie.

Blitzo is fucking pumped for this concert. Anything for an excuse for him to dress slutty and get drunk is fine with him. Besides, hearing drunk Blitzo try and sing long to the words, but get them all wrong is so funny and precious. He was not happy at how much you recorded it for blackmail, but also proud because same.

Moxxie & Millie were more than excited to go with you, planning your outfits all together so that none of you wore the same era. Although, you definitely couldn't dress up as Lover or Reputation because those were M&Ms and you couldn't pry it from their cold, dead hands.

Loona is not like other girls©, so she immediately scoffs when you genuinely suggest going to see the Barbie movie. She told you that she would never go in a million fucking years. However, after some persuasion on your end, Loona at least agreed to watch the first 30 minutes before she would walk out and find another movie.

Stolas is over the moon that you want to see Barbie with him. He's been hearing about it, but wasn't too interested in it all that much. Well, until you asked him to go with you. He immediately began to get his outfit together in the spirit of the Disco dance sequence of the movie. It was fucking amazing.

Ozzie & Fizzeroli were more excited than you for the concert. Ozzie had everything taken care of for both Fizz and you. Worried about what you're gonna wear? Don't worry, Ozzie's assistant has been gathering your outfits for weeks, with Ozzie s final approval before revealing it to you both. All you and Fizz had to worry about was having fun.

Verosika Mayday has been waiting for this movie for months. She denied it, but you noticed how she sent you all the Barbie memes and behind the scenes stuff. If you don't go all out and dress up, she doesn't know who you are and will sit on the other side of the theater.

Striker had no clue what the fuck you were babbling about. So, he looked into it, and was not fucking thrilled about it. But when he bought tickets to Taylor Swift, the grin on your face was well worth the 3+ hours of pure 'torture' he was going to endure.

[philomenie]

RIDE THROUGH AN AUTUMN NIGHT

Pairing: Jolly x Alice

CN: angst, grief, break up, mention of cheating, drugs, alcohol, fluff

@reyadawn @nojoyontheburn @dsireland86 @jilliemiw86 @fadingintothegrey @aubrey-melinoe

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Exhausted from lack of sleep and jet lag, Jolly stands at the car rental counter at Stockholm airport waiting to finally get the damn keys to his rental car.

The last few hours seem almost surreal to him... he's now been traveling for almost 13 hours, and on top of that he's hardly slept at all, as he left straight after the last concert in L.A., went to the airport, waited there for the next available flight to Stockholm, which fortunately wasn't fully booked and left in less than half an hour.

So now he's in Stockholm, overnighted, exhausted, without luggage, in sweatpants and a hoodie, although at this time of year, unlike in warm California, it can get pretty cold in Stockholm.

The last rays of sunshine on this sunny October day have long since faded and it is already dark.

Jolly needs nothing more than a bed and a good night's sleep, but he has to go through with what he has planned.

He is afraid that once he is asleep about everything, his courage might leave him and he knows that if he retreats now, he will probably never have the courage to do what he wants to do, needs to do.

He is now firmly convinced that he simply MUST do it. He MUST seize this opportunity, this last opportunity, to perhaps have a minimal chance of saving what he so carelessly threw away so long ago. The love and affection of Alice.

The woman who once meant the world to him and whom he first abandoned and then repressed. Repressed, not forgotten, because he could never really forget her completely.

Whether it was a one-night stand, friendship plus or a relationship after Alice, he had unconsciously compared every woman to her, as he had realized in the last few hours on the plane.

He thought long and hard and came to the conclusion that he was a huge fucking asshole who too often just wanted to have fun and live the rock star life to the full.

Whether it was women, partying or the occasional drug, alcohol.... He lived his life to the limit for a long time without showing much consideration for others. Others who should have meant something to him, meant something to him, like Alice....

FUCK, what an idiot he was.

Lately, or rather in the last two or three years, he has slowly realized that this life isn't everything, can't be everything, and he has taken a step back, no more random one-night stands, no more drugs, hardly any alcohol, hardly any parties.

Somehow he's only really grown up now, in his mid-30s, and has realized what's really important in life....

The decisive factor was actually his last failed relationship, when his girlfriend at the time accused him of only being half-hearted about it, of not fully committing to her and the relationship.

This got Jolly thinking six months ago and he realized that his heart was still attached to Alice, as his thoughts kept wandering back to her and the questions of 'what if' and 'what could have been' still dominated his thoughts and feelings.

“Right Mr. Karlsson... here are the papers I need you to sign here and here..... and here are the keys to your hire car!” smiles the young woman behind the counter, snapping Jolly out of his thoughts.

He looks at her, irritated.

“You still have to sign here and here!” she explains kindly a second time and pushes the rental agreement and the insurance contract towards Jolly.

“Um... yes, sorry, I was thinking it!” mumbles Jolly and quickly signs the papers, then has the key handed to him.

“The car is in our parking lot, right here at the airport, you can't miss it if you go straight out through the main exit.... Parking lot number 14!” explains the young woman with a smile, ”Have a nice stay in Stockholm!”

“Hmm, thanks!” nods Jolly and walks off, out of the building, where the cold, crisp fall air rushes towards him.

Jolly stops for a moment and takes a deep breath of the fresh air, closing his eyes briefly. The smell of home runs through his head and a pleasant shiver runs through his body.

Home... what does that actually mean to him now?

Is it California, L.A.?

Or is it rather Sweden....

In the past, he would have said L.A., his new home, without batting an eyelid, but right now he feels a certainty deep inside him that this is his real home, always has been and always will be.

His roots are here and perhaps it is time for him to realize what that means.

Home.... Jolly also knows that it's not just a place, a feeling, but also a person.... His home has always been Alice. With her, he felt safe, loved, understood, accepted just as he is, wasn't questioned, didn't try to change.... He was simply allowed to be himself..... just be....

He could just kick himself in the ass for throwing it away like that... God you asshole, you moron, he thinks to himself angrily!

Jolly quickly finds the car, a silver-colored SUV from Volvo... a Volvo, of course... what else here in Sweden, he thinks to himself and has to grin.

He gets in, then sets the sat nav before driving off.

Fuck, three and a half hours' drive, and it's already past 9 pm... which means he won't be in Jönköping, or rather Husqvarna, a suburb of Jönköping, until half past twelve. His old hometown, where he was born and raised, where he took his first steps in the music business with his first band, where he met and fell in love with Alice.... The place he was all too ready to leave, just as he was all too ready to leave Alice. For a career in America.... For a life to his liking..... an extraordinary life.

But this extraordinary life has been demanding a lot from him lately, almost too much if he is honest with himself.

Sighing, he turns the ignition key in the lock and starts the car, drives out of the parking lot, letting himself be guided by the voice of the navigation system in the dark, starry autumn night.

Jolly's thoughts drift back to the previous day, the concert they played, which was something of a turning point in his life, depending entirely on the outcome of the conversation Jolly wants to try and have.

Nevertheless, he already knows that no matter how the conversation turns out, he won't be the same person he was before.

Too much has happened at once, he's learned things he didn't know, never thought he would, and he's realized how much he's hurt Alice.

God, she won't listen to me anyway, probably won't even let me get a word in edgewise, if she even opens the door....

Jolly becomes uncertain.

Damn it, shouldn't he go to a hotel after all.... NO, at least he has to go to Jönköping today. He can stay in a hotel there.

He doesn't want to go to his parents, especially as they don't even know he's here. He hasn't told anyone that he's coming.

Of his bandmates, he only told Noah because he came to the conversation, if you can call it that, that he had after the concert.

Jolly is sure that Noah has told everyone by now that he had to leave urgently.

He can still remember Noah's words: “If you're going to do it, do it properly, be honest, just go completely naked if you want to have another chance with her!”

And that's exactly what he plans to do!

Kilometer after kilometer passes in the starry night. Jolly has opened the window a crack to feel the fresh, cold air on his skin and to dispel his tiredness.

He takes a few deep breaths in and out.

He reviews what has just happened in his mind's eye.

During the concert, he had already noticed the young woman standing near the barricade with her friends. The first time he consciously looked at her, he messed up the chord, which earned him an irritated look from Noah. Normally, he never messes up.

But he was too perplexed, because at first he really thought he was looking at Alice. About the same height, same figure, even the same hair color, almost exactly the same facial features.... Even the dimples when she laughed were identical.

This woman looked exactly like Alice did when he left her, nine years ago...

Jolly had to keep looking at her, which her friends also noticed and pointed out to her. The cool, disparaging look that he then received from ice-blue eyes made it clear to him that it couldn't be Alice, as Alice has green eyes, but he was familiar with this look and had already received it in the past.

From Maja, Alice's little sister, who is 10 years younger than Alice and hated him with a passion back then. That definitely hasn't changed, in fact it has intensified.

After the concert, he practically stormed off the stage, more or less threw his guitar into Josh's arms and went down to the barricade, but Maja and her friends were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck... he just has to find them and ask for Alice....

He had searched social media for her some time ago, but couldn't find her profile. His internet search revealed that she still lives in Jönköping, Husqvarna. In a typical Swedish house on the edge of a small settlement, just as she always wanted.

A lump then formed in Jolly's throat as he recalled some of the conversations they had.

At the beginning of their relationship, when they were just 20 years old, Alice and he often played a game, What if....? A question and answer game

What if I'm 30 years old... Alice once asked.... He still remembers this question very well, including his answer!

Then we're married and you're touring the world with me because I'm a famous rock star....

Jolly feels that lump in his throat again and angrily punches the steering wheel.... FUCK!!!

God, they were so young and so in love.... Alice was friends with Petter's sister and once happened to be at a band rehearsal in Petter's basement.

They had both fallen head over heels in love with each other. However, it took a while before they finally got together because both were too shy and insecure at first to reveal their feelings to the other.

Heavens, when Jolly thinks about it now, he gets the same weak knees and that tugging in his stomach, in his chest, as he did back then, whenever he thought about Alice or saw her.

He can even smell her scent if he closes his eyes for a moment, which isn't safe considering he's sitting in a car right now and driving. Lavender. Alice has always smelled of lavender.

A flower that even he knows, as his mother has dozens of lavender bushes among her roses in her garden.

Alice was always at his side, at every performance, whenever she could manage it.

They were inseparable.

Until... until he became something like a megalomaniac! In any case, at some point everything was too small, too little, not spectacular enough for him. He wanted more, much more. Fame, success and, stupidly, other women who willingly offered themselves to him.

After every infidelity, he crawled back to Alice in remorse, promising her again and again that it would never happen again. After every drunken binge, he swore to her that he would drink less or nothing more. Because as soon as he got drunk and Alice wasn't with him, he ended up back in bed with some girl anyway.

He still doesn't know why Alice kept taking him back. She seemed to be able to forgive him for all that.

Maybe because they were simply made for each other, she knew that, only he had forgotten it?

FUCK.... Alice was just perfect for him, in every way.

Her silky dark brown hair that shimmered reddish in the sunlight. Her green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, her cherry-red, full lips that he loved to kiss so much, her dimples when she laughed. Her sparkling laugh in general, which always made him weak.

Her delicate hands with the many silver rings, her perfect ears with the piercings. Her swan-like neck, which he loved to cover with kisses.

Her narrow waist, which he loved to embrace, to pull her towards him, to signal to everyone that she was his and only his.

At some point, he began to pull away from her more and more, partly out of a guilty conscience, partly out of selfishness.

Maja more than hated him at this point and showed it openly as soon as they met.

Jolly has to think about her last evening.

Alice must have known back then when he turned up at her door. With his hoodie and baseball cap pulled over his face, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, staring at the floor as he began to speak haltingly.

She was still defending him against everyone and anyone at this point, not letting anyone say a bad word about him, even when he hurt her, unconsciously but also consciously... in the end it was mostly conscious and he didn't care.

That absolute shitty evening when he stood stammering on the porch outside her parents' house and told her that he was leaving and that he was therefore ending their relationship, he knew for a fact that he was breaking her heart.

She plunged into an absolute hole of despair and he hardly cared because he told himself that it was the right thing to do, that it was time to move on, to get to know new things, to start a new life....

HE decided what Alice wanted didn't count for anything at that point.

Jolly angrily hits the steering wheel again.

Damn selfish idiot, he growls again and again.

Maja then appeared at some point and shouted at him because she had heard her sister crying. The girl hit him and shouted that he should fuck off, preferably die and never come back, just leave her sister alone.

Jolly was almost right, he could practically escape from the situation, which he did without looking back once.

He blocked out Alice's sobs until he drove away with screeching tires.

FUCK..... Now he remembers this little detail, just before he started talking.... Alice said we need to talk.... Jolly thought she meant their relationship, that it's at ground zero right now, disastrous, messy, destructive!

Now he knows she wanted to talk about something else... FUCK!!!!

If only he had listened to her once....

If only he'd let her talk first....

However, he's not sure if that would have made much difference at the time.

FUCK, he really is the biggest scum.…

Jolly has to stop because he feels sick and dizzy, so he pulls into a parking bay on the side of the road, switches off the engine and pulls open the driver's door, sucking the crisp autumn air into his lungs.

Slowly, the dizziness and nausea get better.

Damn... he hasn't eaten or drunk anything for a long time....

Just as he is about to let the navigation system search for a gas station or a snack bar, his cell phone buzzes.

It's Noah.

“Arrived safely?” he wants to know immediately.

“Hmm,” grumbles Jolly in agreement.

“So, are you in Jönköping yet?” Noah continues.

“Not yet... I've still got a good two hours' drive ahead of me!” gulps Jolly.

“Fuck... have you slept at all?” Noah asks anxiously.

“Some.....” Jolly qualifies, stifling a yawn.

“Are you still going to see her today?” Noah asks.

“Honestly... no idea right now!” growls Jolly, ”Since I've been on the road, I've been thinking about everything, what mistakes I've made, how much I've hurt her.... But also how much I loved her... how much I still love her...... Noah, she was THE one... and I broke everything, threw everything away.... How am I supposed to just show up at her door in the middle of the night after almost 10 years and beg for forgiveness? Beg her for forgiveness with the idiotic hope that she'll take me back?”

“You can only try, what she does then is not in your power to influence!” Noah explains seriously, ”Like I said, get naked! If she really means as much to you as you said, then this is your only chance!”

“I know..... but I'm scared shitless right now!” whispers Jolly harshly, ”So much depends on it.”

“Exactly, that's why!” hisses Noah, ”Jesus, Jolly, since when are you such a doubter? You're not a coward! Face up to everything, admit your mistakes and hope for the best, that's all you can do!”

“Yes, I am a coward... I was and I probably still am.....” mumbles Jolly, embarrassed.

“Then face it!” Noah declares seriously, ”Just do it!”

“Hmm” grumbles Jolly.

“Listen, let me know when you've arrived and what you want to do then. Maybe you'll have a bit more clarity by then!” Noah explains gently, ‘And one thing you shouldn't forget, despite everything, is what Maja's girlfriend blurted out!’ he then grins.

“Hmm” nods Jolly, a little more hopefully.

“So! Stand your ground and don't run away!” Noah reiterates to Jolly before hanging up.

Jolly stares thoughtfully at the display of his cell phone.... The words of Maja's girlfriend still clear in his ear.

FUCK, he has to try, Noah is right, so he sits back down, closes the car door and drives off again.

However, he makes a little detour to the nearest gas station and stocks up on various snacks and drinks, as his blood sugar feels off the charts.

After he has consumed most of the snacks and 2 cans of Coke, he feels better again. Not just physically, but mentally too, so he is determined to go through with it.

Preferably tonight!

The longer he drives towards Jönköping, towards Alice, the stronger his longing for her becomes. God, it just has to work, he tells himself again and again.

Alice is his home, always has been and always will be....

Maja will strangle him, as she has sworn to do, if he dares to go to Alice, but he accepts that.

Maja was so angry, mainly because her friends, especially Selma, had blabbed and only didn't go after him because Noah suddenly appeared next to him.

Jolly has to grin at this memory.

It was pure coincidence that he met Maja and her friends after the concert after all.

After he and the others had freshened up, they actually wanted to get to their minibus in the venue's private parking lot.

On the way there, they had to pass a group of concertgoers, separated by barricades.

Jolly's gaze automatically wandered over the people and got stuck on Maja, or more precisely, her rear view.

Jolly was struck by lightning at first and couldn't move, but then he gave himself a jolt and approached her, talking to her over the barricade.

Her friends' eyes almost popped out of their heads, but they stared at him and Maja open-mouthed and speechless.

It felt like an eternity before Maja turned to him with a cool, hateful look.

“What do you want?!” her voice couldn't have been icier.

“Talk?!” he shrugged his shoulder awkwardly in response.

“What would I want to talk to YOU about!” came the reply.

“Maja... please, I know it's been a long time... but when I saw you earlier.... Damn you look so damn much like her.....” he swallowed.

“You realize that now, after fuckin almost 10 years?! Fucking asshole! You could have contacted her long ago if you'd really wanted to! Suddenly you're getting sentimental? Remembering the good old days? Or are you horny? Don't you have a slut to fuck right now?” she snapped at him.

Her friends were more speechless than ever, and other concert-goers listened with interest.

“Maja... please.... can we discuss this in peace and quiet? In a different setting?” he tried to reassure her.

“Forget it, Karlsson, you're scum and I'm certainly not going to listen to you!” was her reply.

Until Selma regained her composure and blurted out a few things.

“FUCK.... Then HE really is HIM?!” she stammered.

“Shut up!” growled Maja.

Jolly couldn't quite follow that.

“I thought you were joking when you said you knew the fuckin guitarist from fuckin Bad Omens.... FUCK!” blurted out one of the other women.

“Yes... I 'know' that asshole... unfortunately!” Maja hissed.

“But is HE really HIM then?” Selma followed up.

“Shut up!” growled Maja.

“FUCK... you know very well that Alice still loves him, if that's who he is! Hasn't forgotten him. As well as.....” Selma blurted out, interrupted by Maja.

“Shut your mouth, Selma! I won't say it again!” Maja grabbed Selma's arm angrily.

“Alice still loves me?!” whispered Jolly tonelessly, more to himself than to the others. This information turned his whole world upside down.

Selma, who had broken away from Maja, nods, “Yes, she does... She hasn't had a steady relationship for years, dates now and then that have all come to nothing.... Which isn't just because of Liam!”

“Liam?” Jolly furrowed his brow in irritation.

“That's enough... it's none of his business! He ran off back then and Selma, I swear I'll wring your neck if you make another sound!” Maja hissed at her friend.

“Who's Liam?” Jolly wanted to know.

“As I see it, your son!” Selma nodded and Maja tried to lunge at her, which Jolly just managed to prevent with a firm grip.

“DON'T TOUCH ME!” Maja yelled out all her anger and frustration, ”AND LEAVE ALICE ALONE!”

“Maja... is that right?” gulped Jolly, thunderstruck.

But Maja preferred icy silence.

“Yes... Alice has a son and he must be yours!” Selma nodded instead.

Jolly felt like he might faint in an instant, so he clung to the barricade. Panting and gasping for air, he stood there, “Really?” he croaked with a pleading look at Maja, who didn't give him a glance, instead stabbing Selma with her eyes.

“Maja... is that true?” he repeated pleadingly.

“He looks a lot like you... your hair color, your eyes....” Selma enumerated, ”The right age. She hasn't told anyone who the father is, but..... well, when you see him, you'll just know!”

“Maja....?” Jolly choked out questioningly.

“Luckily he doesn't have your nature...” Maja hissed almost inaudibly, but Jolly had heard and his legs threatened to buckle.

At that moment, Noah joined them and was able to observe Jolly's strange behavior from a distance.

Worried, he put a hand on his back, “Are you OK, Jolly?”

“No... actually, nothing's ok....” Jolly choked out, ”I have to go, Noah!”

“What, where? Why?” Noah wanted to know immediately.

“To Sweden... She's still in Sweden, isn't she?” Jolly asked and Selma nodded.

“Yes, she's still alive, or rather back in Jönköping!” Selma confirmed.

“If you care about her, you leave her alone!” Maja suddenly declared icily, ”She's been through hell because of you, even after.... Now it looks like she's made up with her life and everything. Don't you dare destroy that again by showing up, turning everything upside down and then disappearing again! Besides, it's also about Liam, a child!”

“I.... Maja... I need to talk to her!” gulped Jolly.

“Yes, YOU have to talk to her, all right. Once again, it doesn't matter what she needs!” snapped Maja.

“Maja, she still loves him.... She told me at the summer party when Nils broke up with me. She told me about her great love that she could never forget and how hard it is to let go, even though you don't really want to....” Selma explained gently.

Jolly felt sick.... FUCK, he really destroyed Alice back then.

Noah looked from one to the other uncomprehendingly, “Alice, Liam... kid?? What are we talking about here?”

“I guess I have a son!” gulped Jolly and Noah went no less pale than Jolly already was.

“WHAT???” he gasped tonelessly.

“Yeah, with Alice... I didn't know about anything... had absolutely no idea, she never told me.....” gulped Jolly.

“Yes, I wonder why!” Maja added spitefully.

“The Alice you told me about? The one you still love?” Noah then wanted to know, which made the women present sit up and take notice.

“Yes, that Alice.....” nodded Jolly.

“Then go to yourself, get your shit in order, get naked and try to win her back!” Noah nodded seriously.

Jolly looked at him questioningly, but Noah just gave him a shove, “GO, for fuck's sake, what are you waiting for?”

So he ran off, took a cab to the airport and is now here, in the middle of the night on a lonely road in Sweden on a clear fall night. Ready to take his fate into his own hands and win back the love of his life.

Monotonously, kilometer after kilometer goes by. Jolly goes through countless scenarios in his mind, what he should say to her, how he should say it.

FUCK, he feels like a schoolboy trying to slip a love letter to his crush. Just as excited, just as insecure.

As the lights of Jönköping slowly illuminate the darkness, Jolly's heart beats faster, he feels sick again and starts to sweat.

He nervously brushes his hair out of his face.

What should he do now? Go straight to her or check into a hotel and wait until tomorrow to attack her?

Jolly is getting more and more nervous.

Swearing, he pulls up again with squealing tires. He has to get to her, otherwise he's afraid of losing his courage.

The small settlement on the outskirts of Jönköping already seems to be sleeping peacefully, with only a few illuminated windows to be seen.

The SUV slowly rolls along the road until Jolly reaches his destination.

Alice's house.

His heart is pounding in his throat and he feels like he is going to faint again when he stops and takes the ignition key out of the lock.

He has to inhale and exhale deeply for a moment.

A glimmer of light can be seen from a window at the side. Alice must still be awake.....

She's always been a night owl, he remembers, and a smile steals across his face.

With trembling legs, he walks through the small garden gate and along the gravel path that winds its way to the house, climbing the steps to the porch that nestles against the front door.

Should I really, it races through his head......

He almost lets his hand drop again, but then he raises it again and knocks hard on the front door.

It's so loud, he himself is startled and looks around because a dog has started barking somewhere nearby, so he doesn't even notice that the hall light has gone on and keys are being turned in the door lock with a rustle.

Only when the door opens a crack does he startle, staring into bright green eyes that widen in shock.

Before Alice can slam the door shut again, at least that's what Jolly assumes, he pushes his foot between the door and the hinge and presses his hand against the door.

“Please.... We need to talk!” he chokes out, looking at her pleadingly.

Alice is so shocked that she can't get a sound out, nods automatically, undoes the chain in front of the door and then opens it completely.

As she stands there in front of him, Jolly's knees go weak and a stupid grin appears on his face. God, how could he have left her.

A whole world of emotions assaults him.

Love, desire, longing, security, home.... He feels all of this at the same time, just at the sight of her and the delicate scent she exudes. Lavender.

Alice is still unable to make a sound, so she just stands there in her leggings, oversized sweatshirt, thick woolen socks and messy hair bun, from which countless strands have stolen and are winding around her delicate face.

Jolly would have liked to tuck her behind her ear, but he doesn't dare move a finger, let alone touch her.

So he just chokes out, “We need to talk!” again.

Alice must have recovered from her initial shock. She clears her throat, wraps her arms around her torso, pushes her chin forward slightly and narrows her eyes.

She's even more enchanting than usual when she's angry, it occurs to Jolly as he looks at her like that and his desire for her continues to grow.

“About what?!” she growls softly at him.

“About just about everything....” sighs Jolly softly, ”Please.... Just let me finish, then when you say go, I'll go. I promise!”

Alice eyes him coolly, but then nods.

So Jolly plucks up all his courage, puts everything into a balance and begins to apologize to her, revealing his true feelings, what a fucking idiot he has been. In the end, he begs her forgiveness, asks for a second chance.

“I love you, Alice. I always have and I always will. I was just so stupid that it took me so long to realize that..... and then I had to work up the courage to go to you!” he mumbles.

“I understand if you send me away because I hurt you so much..... tore you to pieces.... All I can say is how sorry I am!” he swallows.

Alice looks at him for a long time. You can see how hard she is working, how much she is struggling with herself. But then she straightens her shoulders.

“It's too late, Joakim!” she whispers harshly and Jolly flinches as if he's been hit, but he was actually expecting this answer, ”No one has ever hurt me like you before and I'll never let myself be hurt like you did again! So please go!”

The question about Liam is on the tip of Jolly's tongue, but he remains silent. He understands that he has no right to ask Alice about his son. He has no right to anything. He gambled it all away a long time ago.

“I see...” he just nods, ”If I could, I'd turn back time... but I can't... I'd like to shake myself, beat myself up, to come to my senses.... I'm so incredibly sorry, Alice. And I know you won't believe me when I tell you I love you......”

Jolly can't move, but then he tears himself away, turns and storms out of the house, leaps down the porch steps and hurries to his SUV.

With trembling fingers, he unlocks the lock, but before he can open the car door, he is overcome by a wave of nausea and has to lean against the car, retching and gasping for breath.

It all seems to be too much for his body, his legs buckle and Jolly has to kneel down, leaning his head against the car door.

He feels hot tears running down his cheeks, so he presses his face against the cool car door.

In a surge of despair, he bangs his head against it a few times, just to stop feeling this despair, letting suppressed sobs escape his throat.

FUCK... this must be exactly how Alice felt back then.....

“YOU FUCKING STUPID IDIOT!” it suddenly hisses next to him and Jolly blinks upwards in confusion, where Alice stands like an angry avenging angel, staring down at him, trembling and equally crying.

“WHY???” she continues to hiss and punches him on the shoulder.

Jolly tries to get to his feet and stands up, trembling.

“TELL ME WHY??” Alice continues to cry, pounding his broad chest with her fists. Jolly just lets it happen.

“WHY ONLY NOW??? WHY ARE YOU ONLY COMING NOW? WHY DID YOU GO TO .....” Alice gasps.

“I... can't tell you... because I was a stupid asshole... scared of what we had.... Felt constricted..... I'm sorry.... I'm so incredibly sorry!” he mumbles.

Alice continues to lash out at him, taking all her frustration out on him until she stands sobbing in front of him, “And why do I still love you......” she breathes so softly that Jolly thinks he has misheard her at first.

Alice looks him in the eye with a teary gaze, “Why?”

Jolly can't help but pull her into his arms and hold her close. Alice clings to him, sobbing.

“I'm so incredibly sorry, Älskade!” he swallows.

“I can't do this again.....” sobs Alice.

“I know, min Älskling, I know...” whispers Jolly tenderly, stroking her hair, ”If I hadn't realized that, I wouldn't have come...... I came to stay with you!”

Startled, Alice looks at him, scrutinizing him closely, but all she can see in his gaze is love and the promise he has just made to her.

“I don't know.... I....” she swallows.

“We don't have to rush into anything!” nods Jolly, ”I'll stay here for now... let's just start over. Get to know each other again.”

“But there's something else I need to tell you.....” swallows Alice.

“I've known that for a while... And the thing I'm most sorry about is that I wasn't there for you!” Jolly nods seriously.

“Where from?” asks Alice, stunned, and Jolly tells her that he met Maja and her friends in LA.

“And Selma's still alive?” Alice has to ask.

“Well, at least she was when I stormed off!” smiles Jolly and kisses Alice's forehead.

“Maja will kill her and me!” Alice then nods.

“Why you?” Jolly wants to know.

Alice buries her nose in Jolly's broad chest, breathes in his tart scent, which lulls her and gives her the security she has missed for so long, “Because I'm so stupid and say yes....” she whispers.

“You're saying yes? You really want to try again with me?” Jolly's heart seems to burst.

Alice nods, “Yes... because I still love you, I've missed you so damn much and this feels so good, so right......”

She lifts her head, “But if you.....”

“No!” Jolly interrupts her immediately, leaning in and kissing her tenderly, ”No, I won't!”

The gust of wind that catches them both and pushes them closer together is like a sealing of this promise.......