#of the owner(s)'' sitting in the middle

[onethousxndvoices]

so i started playing prsk and noticed some similarities from another game i love

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon when a customer yells at reader for a mistake?

I love the way you guys think LOVE keep em comin!!

It starts when he's restocking his bar, carrying crates with fruit, bitters, coasters, and straws. He comes down from the pantry upstairs to a decently relaxed lunch crowd, when he hears the second half of the customer's tantrum.

"You expect me to eat this?! It's bloody raw!"

"I'm so sorry, I can take it back aga-"

"You already did that - went to the kitchen and stuck it under the warmer for a few seconds and thought I wouldn't notice, huh?"

"No sir, I gave it to the che-"

"I don't want to hear fucking excuses, just go fix my damn burger. I'm paying for this shit, aren't I? And you're working for my tip. So fucking work, cunt."

Humiliation isn't enough to describe what you feel - there isn't a strong enough word for it. Claiming you're a liar, saying you grovel for tips, yelling at you in front of your other tables, calling you a cunt - it makes your eyes sting with oncoming tears, staring at him and using every muscle in your jaw to keep from spitting insults back at him. You want to throw the food in his face, but instead, you grab his plate and storm off to the kitchen before he can see you cry.

The man scoffs, looking at his watch. "Fuckin' great..."

Simon's still standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his crates and staring daggers at the man. He knows what it's like, being berated by customers. He says "that's customer service for ya" and moves on. But for this wanker to berate you - he sees red. He sees his next target.

He swiftly crosses the restaurant floor, boots thudding against the old wood as he drops his crate behind the bar. Soap's already yelling about the asshole when he pushes his way into the kitchen.

"Order it fuckin' rare and ye get fuckin' rare, bloody clipe- talkin' mince, bawface bastard-" he slams the burger back onto the grill with a tense arm, continuing to grumble as it sizzles. "Cookin' ye a nice strip o' shoe leather-"

You're sitting on an overturned crate, sobbing into your hands, pen and notepad on the ground beside you. Price is on one knee, one arm around your shoulder and the other on your leg - you'd never officially met the owner of the pub, but now was as good a time as any, you suppose.

"Wot happened?" Is all that Ghost could say without going off on a rampage. He's saving that for later.

"He fucking embarrassed me, that's what happened!!" You snap, looking up at Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy after only crying for a minute or two, cheeks wet from your tears. You hug your arms around your middle and choke on a sob. "Told me his fucking burger wasn't cooked, so I sent it back- then he tries to say I never even gave it to Soap?! Calls m-me a cunt in front of my tables?! Make me fucking work for his money - I don't want his goddamn money!!"

Price shushes you, worrying your anger might be leaking through the kitchen door - he doesn't want the same customer to hear you bad-mouthing him, although it's rightfully deserved. He rubs your back gently as you drop your head into your hands again, shoulders shaking as you cry.

Simon's seething - he's already moving before his brain can catch up, still stuck on the picture of your teary face. He marches behind the line and reaches across Soap, picking the burger right off the grill.

Soap makes a shocked sound. "Ye gone mad, LT?!"

"Table six?" Ghost asks, holding the sizzling burger patty in his hand, grease dripping onto his forearm.

You stare between his face and the patty - your crying stopped, your face now replaced with a stupefied expression. "Uh- yeah."

And like that, he's off; he shoves himself back out onto the floor and makes his way towards the customer who yelled at you. The burger burns his hand, but he doesn't even notice the pain. He drops it onto the table in front of the man, who yelps in disgust. "What the fuck-"

"Better?" Ghost says, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he looked down at the man, now stuttering and blubbering in shock. Specks of grease are freckling his white dress shirt.

"Are you- is this a fucking joke?"

"It's your fuckin' burger."

"I can't believe this-"

"Then get the fuck out my pub." Ghost growls; he grabs the man by his arm, ripping his blazer off the back of his chair, and drags him to the front door. The other customers look with wide eyes as he busts the door open with his shoulder and throws the man onto the sidewalk. He wheezes as he hits the ground, and Ghost throws his blazer at him next.

"If I ever see your face in 'ere after this, 'm throwin' you out again and keepin' your bullocks as a fuckin' souvenir."

The man stares at him, flabbergasted, as Ghost walks back inside. People are focused on their meals now, heads down and pretending they didn't see Simon body a man to the ground - the guy deserved it, after all.

Simon huffs, picking up the burger from the now-empty table. His hand stings a bit, but he has years of callouses built up to keep any real burns from settling in. He gently kicks the chair back into place and starts heading back to the kitchen, when he sees you.

You're staring at him with wide, wet eyes, standing in the entryway to the kitchen and mouth slightly ajar in awe. You've fully stopped crying, but there are still tears on your face from before. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged a bit, but it only makes Simon's fondness for you blossom.

He gently nudges your shoulder with his elbow as he pushes past you. "Take a fifteen. I'll watch your tables."

You stare after him as he throws the burger into the trash, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping his hand. Wide back facing you as he looks at Soap, who stares at him with a frustrated sigh.

You're horny now. Horny for Simon - and you're definitely relaying this entire shebang to your friends tonight.

[catsukkii]

Prohero!katsuki — with florist reader

IN WHICH… katsuki was Inlove with a girl at the flower shop, ever since his mom brought him when he was little. He was always a bully to her because he couldn’t process his emotions. Eventually, he went to UA Highschool and moved on to become a pro-hero, leaving them no time to talk and leaving on bad terms, katsuki comes home for the holidays and tries to fix things, but damn she got even prettier.

Pairing; Katsuki bakugo x Afab!reader (she/her.)

Content contains; fem!reader, fluff fluff fluffy, swearing, cheesy love stuff, mentions of katsuki being a dick when he was younger, I think that’s it (lmk if u notice anything else!)

Word count; 1.6k

A/N; WOWOWOWO I got carried away I’m so sorry nobody’s gonna read ts LMAOO

Prohero!katsuki whos smitten with the cute girl who owns a flower shop, his mom used to visit it all the time when he was young, always buying potted plants and pretty flowers to decorate around the house, he always thought the owners daughter was pretty but of course he was a little shit when he was younger and was mean to her.

Prohero!katsuki who knows he was a dick when he was younger, he’s still repairing old relationships since middle school like izuku, he wants to build a relationship with you, but he figured you were off doing something for yourself at this point.

Prohero!katsuki who visits his mom back at home for the holidays, getting to spend time with family. His mom was decorating the house and wanted some pretty red poinsettias for the holiday spirit, of course she would have to visit her favorite florist shop.

“katsuki! do you remember that old florist shop we used to go to when you were just a small thing?” she speaks while putting some garland up, katsuki putting up some christmas collectibles on the shelfs, he froze once he heard this but quickly shook it off.

“yeah ma, I do. you’d drag me there all the damn time.” he rolls his eyes at the memory as she glared at him.

“you were so mean to that little girl! I remember having to yell at you so many times…” she tuts and shakes her head thinking back on the boys antics when he was younger, he has grown a lot and she’s seriously proud of him even if she doesn’t always say it.

“yeah…I know.” he grumbles out lowly, sighing to himself.

“yknow, her mother got to old to run the shop so she’s took over,” katsuki paused his movements at this, gears immediately turning in his head. “I want some red poinsettias, like we always got for the holidays. Why don’t you go get them so you can apologize to the poor girl? she runs the shop all herself now, and she asks about you sometimes.”

she explains finishing up the garland she was wrapping around various things. You asked about him? why? surely it couldn’t of been anything good, you were probably praying on his downfall and with good reason unfortunately.

Prohero!katsuki who immediately takes her up on her offer, she always knew katsuki was smitten with the girl, so it was a little bit of a scheme on her part. He drives over, his luxury car looking silly among your little mint green beetle car in the parking lot.

Prohero!katsuki who sits in his car for atleast 10 minutes contemplating what the fuck he would even say to you. he eventually gets the courage and strides in, seeing you sit with a bored expression twirling a pen in your hand. You got even prettier over the years, he can feel his face flush but he quickly shakes it off. He’s merely here because he was mean to you and wanted to rekindle a friendship, not some cheesy love story.

Prohero!katsuki who walks up to the counter with a gruff expression, crossing his arms and mumbling “red poinsettias…” you look up at him with confusion, barely understanding him.

“excuse me? sorry I couldn’t he—“ your jaw dropped at the sight, fucking katsuki bakugo was here after all these years..and jeez was he hot. He grew to a good 6’ at least and Jesus was he STRONG.

“…katsuki?” You question with a gasp, immediately turning your slouch into sitting straight up.

Prohero!katsuki who clears his throat and speaks up, “yeah…hey y/n.” he sheepishly looked around and scratched the back of his neck, he didn’t know if he could handle looking into your pretty eyes anymore.

Prohero!katsuki who cant help the smirk that crawls onto his face once you smile brightly up at him.

“omg katsuki! It’s been years— holy shit you’ve grown so much!?” you blurt out various realizations and stand up from behind your register, walking out from behind the counter with your hands on your hips, ready to catch up for the time missed.

Prohero!katsuki who is slightly overwhelmed by your greeting, grateful? yes. confused? also yes. how could you not hate him after he was a total dick? then again you truly were the sweetest girl no matter what. You never snapped back at katsuki when you were young, only crying.

Prohero!katsuki who gets a smug look when you talk about how strong and tall he’s gotten. “you’ve grown alot aswell.” he smiles down at you, before averting his gaze to look at his shoes and avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I can’t believe you’re a hero now! I only got to hear about you through your mom, I’ve been to busy trying to keep the shop from closing I haven’t had time for anything else.”

he frowned at this, it must be alot for a young girl like you to handle all by yourself.

“We barely have business and your moms probably the only reason the store hasn’t been closed yet…”

his frown grew evidently wider, you barely have business anymore? you guys had the best shop! that’s why his mother loved it so much! It was cheap, the quality was beautiful, and the service was excellent! how could you be falling out of business?

Prohero!katsuki who wears a look of pity for you for the first time in years. he sighs before looking at you and speaking,

“that sucks, I think you’re the best shop, sorry these extras can’t see that.”

it caught you off guard to hear him so sympathetic, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the irony of his drastic change over the years. you push his shoulder lightly,

“look at you being all nice and sympathetic! the katsuki I last saw would rather die then feel bad for me!” you smiled up at him brightly.

“yeah about that…” he trails off with a sigh. “I kind of came to apologize. I was dumb as a kid and…just a dick for my own personal reasons, but it’s not an excuse when you were nothing but nice to me. I’ve grown a lot and I’m still fixing relationships from back then so uhh..I’m sorry.” he finishes his speech and it makes you frown at his heartfelt words.

“awww…katsuki!” You rush over to him and wrap your arms around him tightly, he stiffens at first but eases into it and loosely wraps his arm around you with a breathy laugh.

“yeah yeah…you were always an emotional shit.” despite his sass he has a wide grin on his face, you pull away from the hug and roll your eyes, a few seconds of silence goes by before it hits you.

“the poinsettias!” you facepalm and rush around the store to where the pretty red flowers were potted, you grabbed the pot and brought it back to the counter where katsuki was waiting.

Prohero!katsuki who watches you intently as you work, “so do you want them potted or just the flower?” you ask simply. “I don’t know what the fuckin’ hag wants.” he replies with a scoff as if you asked him the most preposterous question.

“katsuki! be nice! she’s a wonderful lady..” he rolls his eyes at you and grunts. “I’ll just give you some of both, on the house seriously.” he scowls at you and shakes his head.

Prohero!katsuki “none a’ that shit.” you laugh at his antics, grabbing a knife to cut the stems. “seriously katsuki, we never get business. I’m probably gonna have to put all of these in our already very crowded garden if they don’t sell anyway.” you explain continuing your work on the flowers.

Prohero!katsuki who ponders for a moment before ultimately speaking up and deciding, “alright give me 10. I’ll double the price.” before you can even try to argue he’s pulling out his wallet, causing your jaw to drop and you quickly spin around to fully meet his gaze.

“nono! katsuki seriously it’s fine! I don’t wanna do that especially after all your moms done for the store.”

he gives you the meanest glare he can muster and just continues to ignore you and pull out money, you sigh but are grateful nonetheless. You grab some more of the flowers from their section, equally dividing it to be 5 bouquets and 5 pots. you made quick small talk as you worked catching up on eachothers lifes, he couldn’t help but blush just at your mere presence, not that you were any better off, you couldn’t look at him without your eyes drifting to his muscular body. you hand him the pretty flowers and offer to help load them into his car, he only accepts to talk to you longer if we’re being honest.

Prohero!katsuki who just doesn’t wanna say goodbye yet. “hey uh..I know ma wouldn’t mind if you went for dinner with us, if you don’t got plans that is.” he mumbles and glances around overwhelmed with nerves at your possible rejection.

Prohero!katsuki who lights up when you excitedly scream, “oh my gosh yes! thank you that’s so sweet..” and offers you a ride there, promising to bring you back after dinner so you can get your car and drive home.

Prohero!katsuki who is already smitten with the cute florist girl once again, and gets relentlessly teased by his mother when he walks through the door with her.

Prohero!katsuki who seriously hopes a sweet girl like you will welcome him back into your life, he’ll even help promote your shop if you let him. he just wants the cute florist girl to be just as down bad as he is.

a/n; guys pls this is cute (I think.) give it a chance…

[beeing1alive]

tokyo rev characters with s/o who sleep talks

Note: thank you so much for the fantastic idea :)

Would be shocked the first time because you suddenly started talking nonsense in the middle of the night. Will speak to you in the morning like: Beby…Why did you talk to me in the middle of the night tonight?? You'll have to explain to him that you're talking in your sleep and he's just sitting there slowly understanding what you mean. It doesn't bother him now that he knows everything is fine with you and he doesn't have to worry.

Souya, Hakkai, Takemichi, Takuya, Chifuyu

Listens to you all night, even though he knows you only talk in your sleep. He just fell for your voice, he doesn't care if you're asleep or not. He also doesn't care what incoherent shit you say, he's super happy. He'll probably fall asleep at some point in the morning, relaxed and satisfied by your voice. Will still point it out to you in the morning, just out of respect, but will say straight away that he really enjoyed it. Now looks forward to hearing your beautiful voice every day, even at night when he falls asleep.

Draken, Mitsuya, Inupi, Kakucho, Rindou, Koko, Baji, Taiju, Naoto

Stays up all night talking to you. He knows that you won't remember the conversation in the morning, but he doesn't care. He just finds it too exciting and relaxing at the same time. Sometimes you even answer when he asks you questions, for some reason it's strangely relaxing for him to hear from your deep subconscious that you love him.

Izana, Mikey, Ran, Kazutora, Nahoya

I also wrote other scenarios for them and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out <3

My request are open, so if you want to request something, just feel free to leave a comment or send me an request, love you all, have a nice day/night :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Oh, what a shame. This historic 1894 Victorian grey stone in Chicago, IL was the residence of Charles Washington, Chicago's first Black mayor. It's in the Bronzeville section and needs a lot of work. Someone bought the elegant 7bd, 5ba, 5,100 home and now realizes how much it will take to restore, so the owner put it on the market for $685k. We HOPE that someone doesn't buy it and do a cheap, modern, white & gray reno. You have to see how beautiful the architecture is.

In the entrance, the beautiful hall stand, wainscoting and railings with the bronze-topped newel post are all intact. There's also original tile and an old brass heat register. I also love the mural.

Gorgeous wall in the sitting room. The shelving is magnificent and look at the fireplace and mirror. Also looks like there were some lovely antique pieces that came with the house.

In this room there are pocket doors and that beautiful wood mirror.

The dining room is incredible, from the massive fireplace, to the wainscoting, and spectacular China cabinet. I wouldn't touch the wallpaper, either. Love it.

I don't know if the floors can be saved. There's water damage in this room.

The owner is in the middle of working in the kitchen. It looks like he intended to keep the outdated remodel.

The wall was tiled, but I don't know if it was original. The doors are definitely original and the staff stairs are still there.

I really wouldn't want to save those cabinets, but it would cost so much to replace them.

This looks like a bedroom. There must've been a bad roof leak and the fireplace has been blocked off. The mirror looks okay, though.

Well, there's definitely an original tub in here. Look at how long it is. I'm thinking that the mirror is also original. Maybe the sink is, too.

A round room with a beautiful built-in hutch.

There's also a built-in armoire.

The home has so many built-ins.

Looks like that door opens to a bathroom.

It looks like they started peeling linoleum off the floor and found wood underneath.

Somebody got creative in this bath. But, it has another original tub and also a vintage sink. That toilet is looking pretty old, too.

Someone paneled this bedroom.

This room has a lot of damage.

Looks like the basement ceiling is charred.

These must be functional.

Looks like a basement room.

And, in here they have laundry and a utility sink. I hope that someone buys and restores it. There's so much that's left of the original architecture.

10,000 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3936-S-King-Dr-Chicago-IL-60653/2070846420_zpid/

[purplephantomwolf]

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Two

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack

Previous Chapter: Chapter One

Masterlist

December 18, 2021

     You rush over to the windows, pulling the blinds down. You don’t think Max wants anyone to see him in this state. After making sure no one can see in, you squat down in front of Max. He’s got his head between his knees and breathing erratically. “Hey, can you look at me, please?” You softly ask. Max doesn’t respond. You gently touch his arm, trying to get his attention. His head jerks up, looking startled. “My name is Y/n. Can I take your hand?” You gently ask. He nods, still struggling with his breathing. “Okay, thank  you. I’m going to help you do what I do when I have panic attacks. Is that okay?” You ask. He nods again, slowly this time. “Okay, thank you,” you smile softly. You sit down next to Max, taking his hand in yours. “Okay, I need you to attempt to breathe in sync with me. I’m going to place your hand on my chest, so it’ll be easier. Is that okay?” You suggest, making sure he’s okay with everything you’re doing. Max attempts to speak while nodding. He doesn’t manage to get anything out yet. “Hey, hey. Don’t attempt to speak yet. Not until you get your breathing somewhat under control,” you shake your head. You lay his hand on your chest, taking deep breaths. You see him starting to take deep breaths. 

     Once you notice Max’s breathing has evened out some, you pull out the next thing you do when you have panic attacks. “Okay, next we’re going to do the 54321 grounding technique. I need you to tell me five things you can see,” you state. Max looks around the bakery. 

     “Uh, tables, you, register, chairs, and the kitchen door,” Max says, slowly looking at everything as he says it. You smile encouragingly. 

     “Good, good. Now can you name four things you can feel?” You encourage him, nodding.

     “Your heartbeat, my coat, the floor, your shirt,” Max lists off, starting to sound more confident. 

     “Okay, now, what are three things you can hear?” You ask. 

     “Your music, ticking of the clock, and-” Max tilts his head, seeming to be listening to things, “Someone talking outside.” 

     “Okay, two things you can smell,” you tell him. 

     “Easy, baked goods and flowers,” he slightly smiles, looking over at the flowers I have along the walls. 

     “Yeah, that’s a pretty easy one when you’re in here,” you laugh. “But last thing, one thing you can taste.”

     “Hmm, is that chocolate I can taste?” He looks around. 

     “Yeah, it is. I have quite a few items on the menu that have chocolate in them,” you laugh, looking at the display. Max grins, looking proud of himself. “Are you feeling better now?” You ask, placing his hand on his knee. 

     “I am, thank you so much,” Max blushes, looking embarrassed. 

     “Of course, I know how bad panic attacks can get when going through them alone. I didn’t want to make you do that. Now, when I have my panic attacks, I always feel weak afterwards. Food and a drink always helps me. Would you like something to eat and drink? I think I have some croissants and kouign amanns left, and I can make you some tea or water if you’d like?” You ask, standing up. You hold out your hand to Max, not really expecting him to yes. 

     “If it’s not a hassle to you or anything,” he whispers, taking your hand. You shake your head, helping him up. 

     “I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. Come on, I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, so it;s a bit of a mess still,” you blush, realizing the state of your kitchen. You hear a whine come from the kitchen and your eyes widen. Max looks at you, confused. 

     “What was that?” Max asks, eyebrows knitted. 

     “That would be my two puppies. They hang with me in the kitchen while I clean, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, I can take them upstairs while you’re here,” you say. Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your puppies. He violently shakes his head no. 

     “No, no! It’s okay,” he rushes out. 

     “Perfect, they’re sweet, but quite protective of me. They aren’t really around guys, except my employee, Louis. They might take a second to warm up to you. Elise will warm up to you quicker than Lacey, though,” you explain. You walk back to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you. You push open the door, and Elise and Lacey are immediately running around your feet. You laugh and squat down, petting them. “Max, meet Lacey and Elise. Lacey is the six month old Pitbull, Elise is the year old Golden Retriever,” I explain, pointing to each of them. 

     “Nice to meet you, Elise and Lacey,” he grins, sitting down next to me. Max holds out his hand for the dogs. They slowly walk over to him, sniffing his hand. Lacey takes longer at sniffing his hand than Elise. Elise is currently unsuccessfully trying to climb into Max’s lap. 

     “I’m so sorry! She thinks she’s still lap dog size,” you rush to pull Elise off of him. Max places an arm around her and lifts her into his lap. He smiles up at you, shaking his head, gently swatting your hands away. “Alright, alright. What would you like to eat and drink? I have croissants, pain au chocolat, kauign amann, and macarons, water, and tea,” you list off, looking at all your leftovers on the kitchen counter. 

     “Just a croissant and water, if it’s not too much of a hassle,” he mumbles, distracted by playing with Lacey. You grin at the sight, walking over the croissants. You quickly plate a couple, before getting a glass of cold water. 

     “You might want to put the food on the counter and stand to eat. The puppies will attempt to steal your food otherwise,” you laugh, setting the plate and water on a counter. Max lifts Elise off of him and stands up, walking over to the plate. You get back to cleaning the kitchen as he takes his first bite. 

     “This is delicious,” you hear him say. You peak over your shoulder to see his eyes wide, staring at the croissant. 

     “Thank you,” you mumble, continuing cleaning to avoid him seeing you blush. 

     Max clears his throat, and you turn to look at him. “So, I know you’re probably not my biggest fan, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the panic attack. I normally don’t have them, I just got super overwhelmed with some things,” he says, picking at the croissant. 

     Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “Why do you think I’m not your biggest fan?” You ask. You immediately start going through your interaction, trying to see when you said or did something that would tell him that. Max looks up at you, before pointing at your shirt. You look down, and your eyes widen. “Merde, of course I’m wearing this when I meet you,” you groan. “I promise you, I am not a Lewis or Mercedes fan; I’ve been a Red Bull fan since they entered F1. My dad got me this when Lewis was absolutely dominating, trying to convince me to switch teams. I only wear it when I clean, hence all the stains you see on it,” you explain, blushing. 

     Max smiles, “Okay. Good to know I’m not eating in the enemy's kitchen then.” You laugh, shaking my head. 

     “I won’t tell anyone about the panic attack,” you say, grabbing out some supplies to make the dough for tomorrow's croissants. “Do you want to talk about what caused the panic attack? I know talking helps me a lot, but I get that I’m a stranger, so I understand if you don’t want to talk,” you say, looking at him. Max seems to contemplate this for a minute. 

     “No, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. Thank you, though,” he shakes it. You plop the dough into a bowl, putting it into the fridge for tomorrow. You wash my hands, before turning to him. 

     “Alright, sounds good. Do you need more water?” You ask, noticing his empty water cup. 

     “No thank you, I think I should get going. Let you get back to your cleaning,” Max says, bending down to pet Lacey. Elise whines, running up to you, wanting attention. You laugh and squat down, petting her. 

     “Okay, well, you’re always welcome back. We’re open from 6 am to 8 pm. Always got to promote the business,”you grin. Max lets out a loud laugh, straightening up. His shoulders shake with laughter, and you grin proudly. 

     “Of course, of course. The croissants were delicious. I will be back to try other things. Do you make them all yourself?” He asks, leaning against the counter. 

     “Yeah, I make all the food myself. I have an older couple that I employ that work the front,” you smile. 

     “That’s amazing. I’ll definitely come back to try other things,” he nods, “My trainer is going to hate me.” You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head. 

     “Better not be eating too much then,” you grin, grabbing his plate and cup. You clean and dry them, putting them up. You can feel Max’s eyes on you as you do this. You turn to him when you’re done. 

     “Thank you for the help with calming me down,” he mumbles, turning red and rubbing the back of his neck. 

     “Of course, it is honestly not a problem. I had someone teach me the 54321 grounding technique and it’s been a life saver,” I shrug. 

     “I’ll have to remember it for if I’m in this situation again,” Max nods. You nod, heading to the front of the store. You grab your cleaning supplies, getting ready for the tough job of cleaning the front. Max follows after you, Lacey and Elise hot on our heels. You start to wipe down the tables as Max watches. After a couple moments of silence, he sighs. “I should get going now, thank you so much for everything tonight,” he says. He starts to walk towards the front door. 

     “Of course, any time. Have a good night, Max,” you smile, following him. 

     “You as well, Y/n,” Max smiles back, before leaving. You make sure to lock the door after him. You look down at Lacey and Elise running around your feet. 

     “What an interesting night,” you mumble. You quickly finish your cleaning. You feel your fighting to stay open, meaning it’s bedtime. You drag yourself up the stairs.

     Once you’re upstairs, you grab a quick bite to eat before starting your nighttime routine. Once done with that, you slide under the covers. Elise and Lacey jump up onto the bed with you, snuggling in for the night. You fall asleep cuddling with them, not believing how your night went.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three

[thegnomelord]

Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.

So here's an idea for an au:

Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.

Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.

He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.

And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.

When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.

Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.

He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.

"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.

"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.

With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.

But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.

And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.

Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.

And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)

He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.

You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."

You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.

Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.

Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.

"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.

Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter five

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): mentions of vomiting

author's note: i always sit down thinking i have nothing to write and then the chapters end up this long... i'm sorry. if you're reading this, maybe you can lmk if you'd prefer the chapters be shorter (esp since it's a series)

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JJ feels as though he can still tell which patches of grass he'd stepped over when he trekked the path he is currently walking less than twenty-four hours ago. Only yesterday, he was making his way to the familiar red brick steps that would lead him to one of his most life-altering moments. JJ had always expected to be a frequent flyer at the Kildare County Courthouse, but his two most recent trips to the establishment couldn't have existed in his wildest dreams. 

Getting married at nineteen — sorry, John B— to you would have been like a weird fever dream he experienced while on a crazy trip. Being a property and store owner with his best friends? That dream he had kept buried deep inside his heart for years. From as early as twelve, JJ saw the potential in the property where they'd built Poguelandia 2.0. He spent many nights using the open water to catch something to make for his dad and or to make an escape when he needed to. He knew that land and that water like he knew the back of his hand. Building a business like the shop from the ground up had been what JJ had made his eighth-grade career fair project about. He'd completed it with a piece of printer paper he'd stolen from the school library and a red marker he'd taken from his homeroom teacher. He'd crumpled it up and thrown it away before he could turn it in when he realized all the kids had made theirs on full-sized poster boards.

It was moments like those that had made him decide early on he'd never be a business owner. Those subtle reminders that he was in a league so far behind the rest that even completing a middle school project properly wasn't possible for him. When he and the rest of the Pogues had established Poguelandia 2.0, he couldn't believe it. It was proof that twelve-year-old JJ hadn't been wrong. Forget proof of validation- it had made him happy. So happy. To belong, to have purpose. And that happiness may be snatched from his grip in an hour. 

JJ drove the Twinkie up to the courthouse, and in the time he'd spent parking it, the Pogues had already begun making their way in. Spotting Kie, he decides to try to catch up to her. Kie had been quiet all morning, and he obviously hadn't had the time to talk to her last night. If he's being honest, he isn't sure what he'd say to her if she were willing to talk. 'I'm sorry?' 'You up?' Nothing he'd say in any other situation made sense in this one. What did a guy say to the girl he was sleeping with after getting married? 

"Kie—" JJ's call is cut quiet when he notices who Kiara has just met up with in the gathering crowd. Anna Carrera embraces her daughter tight, while Mike Carrera stands with a straight face behind his wife. JJ tries to turn the other way to dodge them, but Kiara has already heard him and is waving him over. Fighting a grimace, JJ makes his way over to the trio. 

"Morning," JJ says, nodding at Mike and Anna. He should probably shake Mike's hand, but he isn't a fan of false niceties and Mike and JJ are not cordial. 

"You showed up," Mike chides, resulting in a tap to his chest from his wife, who is clearly trying to keep the peace. 

"It's a hearing concerning my property. Where else would I be?" JJ shrugs. Mike has never been a fan of Kiara hanging around the Pogues, but he definitely has a personal vendetta against JJ. It's been like that for years. Maybe he has some fatherly sixth sense that told him JJ's relationship with Kie was different from the rest, but JJ thought it was more that Mike saw him for exactly what he is — nothing good. 

"Didn't bring your wife? Not dragging her into this with you?" Mike's question might have thrown JJ off — what with being addressed as having a wife— if it didn't feel like he'd spit the word. He can't figure out why Mike, referring to you that way, claws out an even darker part of him than he usually feels come out with Kie's dad. 

"Her name's Y/N," JJ corrects, his tone low. "She's a good friend of your daughters, actually. I dropped 'em both off here just now." JJ lifts his right shoulder to give off an air of disregard for Mike's faux concern. 

"Right. Well, I hope you don't mind giving us some time with our daughter," Mike uses his hand to gently guide Kiara into the courthouse with him, and JJ waits for Kiara to stiffen up and bristle, telling her dad no. But when he looks at Kie, he doesn't see the same fire he usually does when her parents are sticking their noses in her business. The fire is still there, but instead of defiance, it is fueled by something bitter JJ can't quite place. He watches as she lets her father guide her, not waiting to see if JJ will follow. 

JJ knows he probably looks like an idiot, standing alone like he's frozen. He feels it then, that tight pull right in the center of his chest. A loop of everything wrong starts to run through his mind: Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win. The loop won't end no matter how hard he tries to turn it off. The volume may decrease as he gets more feedback to interpret, but it'll still be there like a low thrum in the background. 

He finally picks up his feet and moves towards the courthouse, his mind only half there, as if he is floating instead of making the mindful decision to walk. As he draws near the ivory building, he sees Pope and Cleo standing by the doors, in conversation with Pope's parents. It's the person standing a few feet away from the red steps who captures his attention. 

There you are, standing all alone in the bustling crowds. His fucking wife. Your eyes keep flitting around the lawn, looking for something or likely someone. JJ ignores the tiny voice in his head that wants you to be looking for him. 

He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he can't get the image of you from last night out of his head. You in that white dress the moment he decided he liked your hair down best — loose and carefree. You when he was knelt in front of you, all the cards in your hand, still choosing him. You with the barely restrained tears that had felt like they were blurring his vision instead of yours.  And you, with that wide smile and those flushed cheeks from the summer night's heat. The way you danced, your body molding perfectly into his as he spun you closer. He had realized that somewhere between all the fun, he hadn't wanted to let go. There is possibly nothing more dangerous than feeling like he needed to touch you at this moment in time. 

JJ wills away the haunting memories of last night as he finally reaches you. You'd caught sight of him when he was a few feet away and are speaking as soon as he is in earshot. 

"You parked," You say, and JJ just smirks at you stating the obvious. He hasn't spoken to you one-on-one since you returned to your room last night. 

"That I did. You ready to head in?" You nod at JJ's question but make no effort to enter the courthouse. You bite your lip, worrying the soft skin with your teeth. JJ tries not to dwell on how badly he wants to free it for you. "What?"

"Something feels wrong, JJ."

"Yeah, no shit," JJ grumbles, though he finds comfort in being able to focus on his anger rather than whatever else he's feeling at the moment. "These fucking Kooks, man. Always in our way."

Kooks always win. Kooks always win.

You shake your head again before looking around. "I can't shake this feeling like we're forgetting something huge." 

"I think JB brought the Proof of Ownership certificate with us, but I'm sure the court has those files on hand, too," JJ says, trying to ease your worries. 

"No it's not…" You shrug, giving up on explaining this to JJ. "Never mind, I'm probably just anxious." 

"You sure?" JJ takes your nod for what it is– not at all assuring but a green light to proceed anyway. You both walk into the courthouse side by side, the perfect image of a united front. Pope and John B have saved you both a seat at the edge of their bench, and JJ steps back to let you slide in first. He settles beside you, his legs kicking out as he slouches against the backrest, but his attention doesn't stray from you. His gaze remains on your fingers as you wrap them around the edge of your green top, your nerves clearly needing a way to physically manifest themselves. JJ balls his hands in fists to stop himself from reaching out to hold your hand. That probably would do the opposite of consoling you. 

He fights the urge all throughout the start of the hearing. His mind's still running through his spiral, and as he fails to pay attention, the hearing plays on a loop. 

Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win.

JJ watches as your group elects John B as their spokesperson. He listens to his speech and knows he should be choking up on emotion, but instead, all he can do is focus on his own thoughts. Eventually, the other side is speaking, and he hears something that draws his attention.

"So, what the, uh, current occupants of the land don't seem to understand is that there is an injunction to invalidate the most recent sale," JJ straightens in his seat, no longer able to play the part of uncaring. What does he mean by invalidate? "There was a pre-existing promissory note from the original owner that was in the process of being finalized when the land auction took place." JJ bristles. From the corner of his eye, he can sense the Pogue's confusion, but as he searches his mind for an answer, the pieces are coming together too quickly. The hotshot lawyer keeps speaking, but all JJ can concentrate on is 'previous owner.' Before the Pogues, it had been JJ's house. Which means the previous owner is…

"Where is the original owner? And can he validate the authenticity of this document?" the judge asks, to which Dale, the lawyer, responds affirmatively. 

"He's right here," JJ turns slowly, the appalled gasps of the crowd barely registering past the blood thumping in his ear. There he is, Luke Maybank, his father. No – not his father. The man JJ had been thrown onto, never wanted and never loved, no matter what tiny moments JJ had believed they'd shared. 

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Somewhere around him, JJ can hear words like 'son,' 'JJ's dad,' and 'fugitive.' The only clear sound comes from beside him: 'We were missing something.' None of that feedback matters, though. JJ can't focus on one thing long enough to process it. The world around him has reached a screeching halt, but his thoughts are neverending bursts of chaos. Of course Luke didn't show up to stand behind him, to support JJ in not losing the land that their fragile relationship had been tethered to. 

"JJ, why would your dad–" Kiara's voice rings through to JJ from her spot next to Pope. JJ doesn't look up as he opens his mouth to respond, but your voice cuts in to answer for him.

"He's not his fucking dad," If JJ was in a more conscious state, he might have enough energy to flinch at your words and the lethal tone you spoke them in. Instead, his head falls, and he can feel it happening. The moment right before his chest completely constricts, and his legs carry him away, running from everything happening here. JJ stands up abruptly, facing the man who ruined him. Luke's eyes find JJ's immediately, and there is probably something he can read in them if he wants to, but JJ has no interest in that. 

From a distance, he hears a familiar voice. She's shouting something about love and not being deserving of it. But it's not the right kind of feedback. He can't use it to reel himself in. 

Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win.

JJ's feet carry him towards Luke, but he doesn't stop, ignoring him. He walks right past him, and with a frenzied turn of his head, he searches for anything he can grab ahold of. His fingers twist around the smooth surface of a chair and he lifts it over his head. He intends to crash the chair into a window and get some goddamn air in this room, but he never gets the chance. 

"JJ, no." It's you. You followed him? He looks up, his mind still not completely catching up with the moment, to see the rest of the Pogues crowding the front of the room. Then you. JJ scoffs at the fact that you feel the need to follow him. Always fucking babysitting him. 

JJ's arms are being restrained by the security officer who stands by the courthouse door. As he resists the man's grip, another security guard joins in. JJ can hear you telling him to stop, to not 'spin out.'

"Take him out!" You yell at an officer, and as they drag him out the doors, JJ thinks he never wants to see you again. Your self-righteousness is so apparent in your features. You always know the right thing to do, and in your mind, JJ couldn't tell his right foot from his left. 

"Let— let go of me!" JJ yells, his voice shaking with his body. "Stop!"

Eventually, the guards let go, and there you are again, your hands out in front of you in a cautious stance as if he's some animal that just escaped its cage. JJ can't see anything past red, and without Luke in front of him, you are slowly becoming his target. JJ needs to get past you and away before he does something he'd actually regret. 

JJ charges past, or at least he feels like he is charging. In reality, his movements are slow, from the delirious state he's reaching, giving you the chance to step in front of him. You reach your arms out, pushing them against his chest, and the force is strong enough to shove him to the ground and not even there at the same time. 

“Y/N.” JJ seethes. "Move."

"I won't let you do something you'll regret." JJ steps back, his hands coming up to pull at his hair. You are so frustrating. No. You are downright infuriating and he is so tired of it. You'd gotten in the way and gave him the chance to think about what he's doing. Thinking means feeling and feeling means he won't be able to stop from breaking down. 

"JJ," your voice comes out soft, as if you are trying to coddle him, and it sounds so wrong coming from you. So fake. You don't care. You can't care. Because you see him for exactly what he is. You see him like mold that ruins everything it touches, making it irreparable. Yet, he finds himself wanting to let go of his inhibitions and lean into that softness. He wants to trust it and wrap himself up in it. Your voice seems to be the right kind of feedback. He's able to focus on it and grab onto it. But he's not ready to.

Property hearing. Kooks always win.

Tears are gathering in his eyes, and he looks around quickly to see if anyone is nearby. A few stragglers have left the courthouse, and he immediately runs to the back of the building. He knows you're hot on his trail, but right now, he needs to hide from prying eyes. Everyone will be looking to see how Luke Maybank's son reacts. 

You don't say anything right away, and JJ relishes the moment of quiet. But all good things must come to an end, or so they say. 

"JJ, you don't des—"

"Screw that!" JJ's voice is loud and full of disdain. "Screw what I deserve. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to call that place his. He's… he's not fit," JJ emphasizes his point by hitting the pads of his fingers against his temple. "Don't they see that?"

The look on your face doesn't feel like pity but JJ still doesn't want to see it. You can't care. Do you care?

"No, he doesn't. I know he doesn't," you agree, and JJ shakes his head. "But he doesn't deserve you throwing your life away for him." 

"You don't get it. He's not fit," JJ's arms are being thrown in every direction as he made his point. "He's not fucking fit, and I have the receipts to prove it."

"What do you mean, JJ?" You ask with a note of hope that makes JJ's heart throb. "Is he not the actual owner? Did someone else own the property before?"

JJ sighs, a sound between a groan and a 'no' leaving his throat. "No— I… never mind." 

He watches your face fall; that light in your eyes, the one he found too rarely, disappears again. With the final bit of fight seeping from his body he slumps against the wall of the courthouse, his head falling between his crossed arms. He doesn't expect you to meet him where he is, and you don't move for a moment, but then he feels your hand against his arm. You're massaging circles into his bicep and even with the added layers of his gray shirt and blue flannel, he feels like his skin is on fire. He's still angry, it seems, because everything feels like it's on fire with you here. 

He lets you touch him still, unable to escape the heat. He doesn't lift his head or say a word, but he also doesn't move away. After a moment, he feels you rest your forehead against his shoulder. You both must look uncomfortable, the way he's curled into himself, and you are probably extending your neck far enough to reach his shoulder, but neither of you changes the position you're in. 

His mind is silent. No loop, no spiral. JJ is unsure how long the two of you sit there like that, but nothing seems to be pulling you away from him until he hears a voice from around the corner. 

"Let's check here," it's Pope's voice. When JJ lifts his head, he sees you haven't moved yours just yet. He has this lingering thought that he doesn't want Pope to find you just yet. Pope does, of course. 

JJ makes eye contact with Pope and then with Kie. The speed with which that burning sensation leaves his body is as though a bucket of ice water has been dropped over him. Kie's face gives away nothing, but her eyes tell a different story. She's upset, but right now, he can't really find it in himself to care. 

Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad.

"Guys," Pope speaks, only pausing for a second to take in the sight of you resting on JJ. You finally lift your head at his voice, pushing your body back so you aren't as close to JJ. "They're calling us in. Emptied everyone except us and Topper's team." 

"You guys go ahead," It's you who speaks up for the both of you. "We'll be right behind you." 

"Y/N, why don't you head in with Pope? I'll come with JJ," Kie's voice is void of malice, which JJ is relieved about. This whole thing is weird enough; he doesn't need Kie holding onto misplaced emotions because of your arrangement. 

"Right," You nod, standing up. You look at JJ once giving him a nod as well. No consoling smile or encouraging words to part. Just a nod like you had this one under control. Great job, comrade. 

And yet, he doesn't want you to go. He wants to stay like this for just a little while longer. He also knows he should want that with Kie. God, when had this all become so complicated? 

He turns to the curly-haired girl, who is already offering him that sympathetic smile you failed to give him, and he realizes he kind of hates it. He always hates that smile, but he loves what's associated with it. Free range to fuck up as profoundly as he wants. For once, he doesn't want that pass. He wants to believe he can be better and not need it. Laughable, truly. 

"Jayj, I'm so sorry." What else is she supposed to say, really? 'I'm sorry your dad's a piece of shit' basically sums it up. It still feels so pointless. "You deserve better family."

Alright, well now that one is definitely pointless. 

"Yeah, well, "JJ shrugs, pushing his arm out to one side. He's gotten up now and is already walking towards the front of the courthouse. "We all do." 

He knows she wants to say more, but he doesn't want to hear it right now. Kiara accepts that. He feels like there was a time she wouldn't have. She used to put him in his place, but somewhere along the way, she'd stopped. If he had to pinpoint a time, he thinks it was sometime after he'd spent his restitution money on that hot tub. She'd been so angry at first, but after seeing him all bruised up, she hadn't said anything again. She'd even argued with Pope and John B to let them keep the hot tub instead of returning it. In a way, Kie has accepted that this was JJ. He'd always be the guy who drew shit cards and kept gambling like he had a Royal Flush each round. 

"Mr. Maybank, is it?" the judge asks as JJ walks up to the front. John B pats him on the shoulder, leaving his hand there for a while. JJ only nods in response to the judge. "I trust you've calmed down enough to be part of this conversation."

JJ nods once. The judge, still displeased, continues anyway. JJ knows Luke's still in the room; he saw him as soon as he came in. He's standing between Topper Thornton and his lawyer. He must feel like he's on top of the world, sandwiched between those Kooks, and untouchable. He always sort of was for JJ. 

"As discussed during the trial, land ownership has been transferred from the original owner. Seeing as the property was auctioned off before these details were settled, the property is rightfully theirs." 

"Judge, with all due respect, that's unfair," JJ can hear the voices of every adult who ever told him life's not fair as John B speaks. "When we purchased the land, we weren't told of any such issues. To punish us for the fault of another party is wrong." 

The judge nods, not pleased with the situation either. "I agree, Mr. Routledge. However, these are not mere technicalities, and we must not treat them as such. I am sympathetic to you all, and for that, I've decided to grant you a one-week eviction notice." 

JJ scoffs and is pleased to find out he's not the only one. He looks up at you, and when you notice, you roll your eyes as if you are the only ones who can see how idiotic this judge is. 

"What about our money?" You say, your voice full of authority. You're not usually the one who speaks up in public, leaving that kind of work to Cleo, so JJ is surprised to hear you so sure of yourself. "We paid a lot of money for that property; if the auction is void, we should get that back." 

JJ hadn't thought of that. He'd been so caught up in losing this dream he hadn't thought about the fact that the money could be returned to you. That it should be. 

"I also agree with you, Ms. …" You don't fill in the space the judge leaves, instead sticking your nose up at the thought of sharing information about yourself. JJ does nothing to hide the smirk that comes out of him, subconsciously finding himself jutting his chin out to mimic you. The judge continues, but he does not looks happy about your display of rebellion. 

"The sum you paid for the property should be returned to all of you. However, because this auction was done through a third party and not by this court, the money's return could take between three to six months."

The judge lifts his hands at the outburst of the Pogues, cutting them off. "This is completely out of your control, but it is out of my control as well. I've decided that until the money from the auction has been returned, no work can be done on the old Maybank property." 

This time, the Kooks in the room react poorly to the news. JJ should be glad it's not all smooth sailing for the Kooks, but they'll still get there eventually. What's there to celebrate in that? The judge continues, going between appeasing you all and the Kooks and then going over the ground rules. 

The Pogues must leave by the following Wednesday at 12 pm. 

The Kooks may not remove any structures or begin work until the money has been returned to the Pogues. 

There will be another hearing between the two parties and the judge when the money has been returned and construction may only proceed then. 

There's more. So many rules, all of them pointless. 

JJ walks out behind all the Pogues except you. You're walking next to JJ again, with a little more space. No one speaks. 

"JJ," JJ stills at the voice of his father. He can hear it already, that tilt of apology present. JJ never could figure out if it was real. If his dad would have these moments of clarity, he could see just how cruel he was or if it was just a way to get JJ to keep coming back. 

JJ sighs, as if he'd rather be anywhere else than having this conversation, but he wants to hear the reason for the betrayal. 

"What?" JJ asks, his voice full of nonchalance that doesn't belong in this conversation. Topper and his family have already headed towards the parking lot, leaving only Luke, JJ, and the other Pogues. 

"JJ, I'm sorry," Luke starts, inching closer but stopping when JJ steps forward. When Luke's sober, he's a bit of a coward. You gotta believe me; I had no choice." 

"Could've been a man and gone to prison," JJ shrugs. "Simple as that." Luke's face is small, so different from how he looks in his fits of rage. 

"Son, please—" JJ flinches at the term. Son. He hates how much he loves it. 

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Suddenly, he doesn't want to have this conversation anymore.

"You don't deserve him," It's Kie who speaks up from somewhere behind him. "You don't deserve his love." 

JJ wants to vomit. Do they know he loves Luke? Do they not believe him when he pretends not to care? He doesn't want them to see through his act. 

"I'm talking to my son," Luke is shooting daggers at Kie, but she keeps going. 

"Don't call him that. He loves you, and you betray—"

"Kie, stop." JJ mumbles, but she doesn't. 

"You betrayed him. He's so much better than what you gave him." 

JJ's mumbling for Kiara to stop, but it's like she doesn't hear him. Or maybe he's not actually speaking out loud. He feels you then, brushing past him and walking past Kiara, who's come closer to where JJ is standing. You stride up to Luke and JJ wants to pick you up and tuck you away. He knows Luke's basically harmless when he's sober, but he still wants you nowhere near him. 

He watches as your hands grab the front of Luke's worn-out shirt, pulling him down to your level. Your voice is low as you speak, but the words still ring loudly. 

"You're a piece of shit who got in my way," Your teeth are grinding against each other. "Watch your back." You let go with a hard shove that pushes Luke farther back than someone who didn't know you would expect you to be able to accomplish. "And leave JJ and us alone, asshole."

You don't even wait to watch what Luke does, turning around and grabbing JJ's wrist to lead him to the Twinkie. You're mumbling something under your breath the whole way to the Twinkie that JJ can't understand. When you finally reach the Twinkie, you remove your hand from JJ's arm and cross them across your chest. 

"He's such a piece of shit," you whine, and JJ almost wants to laugh. One because you're telling him? And two, because you look practically childlike in your anger, and after such a devastating loss, it's almost a relief. There are no pitying comments in an attempt to soften the blow Luke landed. With JJ, certain steps need to be performed at specific temperatures. Right now, when he's cooled down, but his hand is still on the knob to start the stove, he needs to pretend that nothing is happening. And if he can't do that, he needs to pretend that what's happening isn't a problem unique to him. Somehow, you know exactly how to handle him right now. 

You're making the problem one he can share with you. He doesn't have to shoulder it alone and he doesn't have to feel like he's the only one drowning. He can use you to come up to the surface. 

"That he is," JJ whistles, then smirks as a thought strikes him. "How'd you like meeting your father-in-law?" 

You stare at him momentarily, your eyes comically wide, before you smile at him. Your smile against the backdrop of these circumstances feels like agony and he thinks he may be a masochist. 

"Think I may start calling him daddy." 

"Aye, that title's reserved for me—"

"Okay, okay," you shut him up, your arms coming up to shove at his chest lightly. You're laughing though. Your real laugh, the choking one. JJ's hands come up to catch yours, tugging you closer, and he relishes how your eyes become hooded, the only indication that his being near you does anything. Fuck, why does it do something? 

"You've got the keys," your voice is even, and you don't move away from his grip, almost making him second-guess whether he really does have any effect on you at all. "Unlock the car."

JJ reaches into his pants pocket and then the next, following with the one stitched into his flannel. He's making a show of not being able to find the keys because he knows how you'll react, and he wants that sense of normalcy. 

"JJ, I swear to God if you lost the keys," JJ quickly brandishes the keys from his flannel pocket, giving you a sideways look. You just roll your eyes and get into the back seat. You don't sit next to him when he gets in the driver's seat, and when Kie takes the passenger seat instead, he guesses that makes sense. 

The week following the town hall meeting had been painful, to say the least. It felt like everyone was tiptoeing around one another, afraid to directly address the issue and too stubborn to let go. The Pogues had tried to come up with solutions the evening they returned and the following day. Every option thrown in the middle of their circle seemed like it would be their life raft, but soon enough, they’d find a dozen holes in it. The Pogues were used to working in the gray, but this issue had them working in black and white. The problem was too entangled in legal technicalities to find a backdoor solution. 

You and the other girls are gathered in Sarah and John B’s cramped room because Sarah had said she felt too sick to get out of bed.

“What are you feeling?” You ask Sarah, whose head is resting against your thigh. She has a lethargic look painted across her features that’s making you tired. 

“Mm, don’t know,” Sarah mumbles. “Just feel tired.” 

“You must’ve caught a bug,” Kie says from where she’s sprawled out on the floor. “Just gotta rest.” 

Your hands run through Sarah’s hair to comfort her, but your mind keeps wondering what’ll happen tomorrow. No one is addressing the issue, and even though there’s been ample time to pack, no one has begun to do so either. 

“Where are we gonna go?” Your voice is hushed, afraid to be the one to bring it up. The atmosphere doesn’t shift so much as it intensifies. The threat of leaving this home is constantly looming over you all, but you’re bringing it down and covering the group with it by putting it into words. 

Cleo sighs from her corner of the bed, “We’re gonna go with Pope to his parents’.”

That much you had assumed. It was like when you arrived from Poguelandia and crashed in their living room. Your question had been more abstract. 

“Um, no,” Sarah says, and you can hear the nausea in her voice. It sounds like her words are escaping past a literal lump in her throat. “Y/N has to stay with JJ. You’ll come with John B and me.”

“Sarah, come on. It’s not that serious,” You argue. Your eyes find Kie’s, who has sat up a little and is already looking at you. You hadn’t had the conversation with her yet, and now it feels a bit pointless. You had already married JJ, so what was the point in running it by her? At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. In reality, you have built the conversation up so much that it felt like too high a wall to climb now. 

Sarah lifts her head from your lap, “It is exactly that serious. What kind of married couple splits up a week after their wedding?” You bite back your bitter reply of a ‘fake one,’ not wanting another lecture from Sarah. 

“Well, where exactly are we going? Because the Chateau doesn’t exist anymore.” Sarah’s entire expression changes. She’s biting her lip in a way that makes it seem like she’s sorry more than anxious. 

“So I went to see Rafe after he stopped by at the shop,” Sarah starts, her eyes flitting to the side. “He, uh, was talking about trying to… reconcile our family.”

You’re sure you’re staring at Sarah as if she has two heads. In what world is Rafe Cameron going to save their family?

“And you told him to shove whatever plan he was brewing up his ass, right?” Cleo asks. You hum in agreeance. 

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, if anyone knows how untrustworthy he is, it’s me. But… it makes the most sense right now.” Sarah’s picking at her cotton pajama shorts, avoiding you and Cleo’s eyes. Kiara rises from the floor and sits next to Cleo. 

“You’re planning on staying in his house… with him?” Kie’s voice is dripping with well-founded disbelief and defensible judgment. 

“I’m not doing that,” You add. 

“No, of course not,” Sarah finally looks up. “He has a one-bedroom apartment he bought to lease and said John B and I can take it.”

“And you trust that?”

“No, but I trust that he said we can call a guy to change the locks. And that he’ll finance it.” You tilt your head in semi-approval. At least she’s thought it through somewhat. Picking up on the fact that you aren’t entirely convinced, she adds, “It’s our best bet, Y/N. Where else are me, you, and Kie gonna go.”

She’s right, but knowing she’s right doesn’t make it easier to accept this is where fate has taken you. You’d never met someone as evil and, frankly, unhinged as Rafe Cameron. He’d tried to drown his sister, for crying out loud. Now, you were going to trust him to shelter you?

“So, let me get this straight,” Cleo leans forward. “We’re trusting Rafe Cameron to give you a safe space? That’s like giving a kleptomaniac the keys to your shop and asking him to watch it.” 

“What– what other choice do we have?” Sarah’s voice wavers, but she looks resolute about her choice. “I can’t just let us fall apart. Not again. I need to make this work, and if that means trusting Rafe, then so be it.”

You can’t argue with her when you hear how much this means to her. If five of you are together, that’s still better than zero. 

“Um,” You turn to look at Kie. “I’m gonna go stay with my parents.” You lock eyes with Cleo, both of you silently acknowledging how out of character this is for Kiara. Kiara’s relationship with her parents is rocky. Not in the way it was for JJ or Sarah, but her childhood home is not a place of comfort for her. She’s doing this because of you and JJ. Which makes no sense because you and he are nothing. 

“Kie, you’re coming with us,” You insist. 

“No,” Kie shakes her head. “I’m not. A one-bedroom can’t fit five people, and apparently, you’ve gotta stay with JJ. Guess the rest of us have to figure it out alone.” The bitter tone in her voice is not missed, and you’re scrambling to find something to take it away. Kiara may not be the closest to you, but she is your family. You love her like you love Sarah and Cleo. You don’t want to lose her because of a guy you don’t even like romantically.

You love them all, and they’re all slipping out of your grasp. Kiara’s bitterness, Sarah’s desperate optimism, and Cleo’s lack of contesting all leave you feeling like the ground is being taken out from under you. Then there’s JJ– residing in your mind in the form of a shadow and complicating everything. 

One moment, he’s behaving so much like the reckless boy who drives you crazy, his words biting and his actions thoughtless. He makes you want to scream, but when you least expect it, he’s pulling you in close and shielding you from the chaos — even when he’s the cause. His touch is always steady, anchoring you to this convoluted reality. That part of him — the one that seems like his rawest, most unguarded self — gives you whiplash. He’s a mess you feel you’re constantly cleaning and a safety net continually catching you. 

“Kie–” You try to get her attention. 

“Hey, Sar, I’m gonna go make you some soup. Just… call the boys back. Let’s have our last dinner.” 

You're not sure how the night had rushed by you so quickly. The dinner had been a haze of forced conversation, and the night had been full of drunken suppression. No one reminisced about their time at Poguelandia 2.0 and discussed how much they'd miss it. That might be something you'd all regret in the future, but it seemed like your last line of defense last night, to live in denial. 

You're all outside the house now, the early morning sun mocking you. The sun isn't gentle. It beats down on you but does nothing to warm you from the chill washing down your spine. The sharp light cuts you out of your thoughts of the wasted night, a cruel reminder that it's all over. Pope and Kie's parents drove up to help transfer their belongings, but they were waiting further away to give you all privacy. The yard, which you had loved for its spaciousness, feels too small. You could see Mr. Heyward leaning against his truck, trying to maintain a respectful distance from the group. Kie's dad had packed his car with her belongings and immediately sat back in the driver's seat, never wanting to interact with the rest of you. You know Pope's dad is carrying your grief with you all, but you wonder if Kiara's dad feels more smug– like he finally gets his chance to shout, 'I told you so!' You want to beg Kiara not to give up, not to go back to their house, but you don't because you think you're the last person she'll listen to. 

You're unsure how many hugs Sarah gives you, but she won't stop even though you are both going to the same place. Cleo isn't holding it together nearly as well as you thought she would. The strongest girl you know is failing at hiding the tremor in her voice, and it's throwing you off balance.

"You sure you and JJ can't just crash with us?" She asks, resting her hand on your arm. 

You shake your head. "We'd just make it harder for you guys." You can see on Cleo's face that that isn't the right thing to say, so you add, "Plus, Pope would get back pains after we force him to sleep on the floor."

Cleo gives you a shakey smile before pulling you in toward her. She hugs you tighter than ever before, and you return it tenfold. She'd been your rock since you were fourteen. You'd never spent a night more than a few rooms away from her, and now you'd be on different sides of this island, which you felt you were still learning some days. You didn't know how to survive without her guiding your way. 

"I'll call you," She whispers.

"Every day," You promise. 

When you pull away, you see JJ standing in the corner with Kie. He looks like he's trying to convince her of something, his hands waving as he speaks. Kie has that determined look on her face that you always admired. She doesn't look like she'll budge about whatever they're discussing. You don't want to stare at this private moment between them but can't tear your eyes away. Is he pleading with her? Apologizing? Only saying goodbye? 

You don't have to watch Kiara and JJ for much longer because suddenly she's stepping away from him with her hand out to halt his motions. That's the last you see of Kiara before she walks away from the slowly dispersing group. Pope and Cleo are the next to go, leaving a hole in your heart that you're not sure you'll ever fill. 

The ride to Rafe's apartment is quiet, even quieter than the ride you four had taken to the courthouse the day of your wedding. When you finally reach the building, no one announces the arrival and no one talks until you enter the apartment. It's a grand apartment, fully furnished and nicely decorated. You'd expect nothing less from a Kook property, and it makes you want to tear apart every – probably custom-made – painting on the wall. Why do they have to have everything? 

"Fucking Kooks," JJ mumbles, taking in the room. "Fucking Kooks."

"Couldn't Rafe have just bought the land? " John B. adds, and it feels like a stab to the chest. 

You can hear Pope commenting with some smart-ass comment or shockingly sassy remark, but he isn't here, and no one fills the silence. 

You don't bother unpacking your suitcase; you're so used to living out of limited storage space. Instead, you help Sarah hang her clothes while the boys go to the grocery store to get a couple of essentials. Sarah is in the restroom, and you've just finished hanging the last of John B's printed button-downs. For a Pogue, he sure did have a lot of shit.

"Oh my God!" You hear a screech from the connected restroom, startling you. You drop the shirt you just picked up from Sarah's box of clothes. 

With your heart in your throat, you approach the restroom door, "Sarah?"

"Oh my God, oh my God," Sarah continues to repeat the three words, her alarm rising each time. 

"Sarah, open up," When she doesn't reply but her panic persists, you try the knob and find the restroom is unlocked. "I'm coming in," you warn and rush in without waiting for a response. 

Sarah is bent over the sink, her left hand covering her mouth. Her right arm is hidden from your view, and she's shaking. 

"What happened?" You ask, leaning forward to find some semblance of an answer. 

Sarah doesn't say anything, but she pushes her right arm out towards you. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, her cheeks void of color. You take a moment to process what she is showing you. In her hand is a blue and white stick, and you take it from her hand to inspect it closer.

"Holy shit."

It's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test. Sarah's positive pregnancy test.

"Is this…" 

"It's real," Sarah whispers. You look up at her, and she returns your stare as if she is expecting you to explain this to her. 

"What are you going to do?" It isn't the right thing to say in this situation, but it's the first thing you can think of. 

"I don't know," Sarah's voice breaks, and her emotions flood out. "I mean, I'm nineteen. I'm living in my murderous brother's rental property because we don't even have jobs. Babies are expensive! I need a job. What will JB thi–"

"Hey, hey," you say, placing the pregnancy test on the counter and stepping toward her to cut off her rambling. Breathe, Sar. Just breathe." Her chest is heaving, and you exaggerate your breathing to model what you need from her. When she begins to calm down and matches her breath to yours, you ask, "Is this something you want?"

Sarah lets out something between an inhale and a whimper. At first, she shakes her head, but something changes when she turns to the sink, and her eyes catch on the test. Her shoulders fall, but instead of devastation, you see relief. 

"I want this so bad," She whispers. You agree with everything she said: having a baby in her situation doesn't fit, but you can't help but smile at her. "I didn't think I would, but if I am…" Her hand rests on her stomach, a streak of protectiveness you are both used to seeing from her and is entirely foreign to you. "I'd want to keep it."

Your chest swells with warmth. "Then that's what you'll do," you tell her firmly. "And we'll all be here for you. Every step of the way." You offer her a confident smile, and she returns it with a hesitant curve of her lip. 

"I'm going to have a baby," Sarah whispers again, but her smile seems impossible to contain as she says it. 

You laugh, pulling her in for a hug, "You're going to have a baby." 

Sarah tightly winds her arms around you, "I can't do this alone." 

After so many years, you want to cry for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. This beautiful girl who loves so freely is afraid no one will love her enough to endure this trial with her. Her tumultuous relationship with her family aside, your new family has been torn apart, and she's finding out there's going to be a new and very dependent member. 

"And you never will be," You promise. "This baby's got a village." 

"Baby," she squeals. Your laughter bubbles up and washes over the room, blocking out the weight of the world for this moment—this moment between two friends and their shared joy, hope, fear, love, and life.  

You'd decided you'd wait for Sarah to tell John B about the baby before you left the apartment. You had to. John B and Sarah would need privacy and space to grow their family. A one-bedroom was already too small for that task, and adding two grown adult roommates would worsen the situation. You'd already shared the bedroom with Sarah the night before when John B had insisted he'd take the couch. You couldn't keep that up. 

You didn't know where you'd go, but maybe you could take Cleo's offer to stay with her and Pope. JJ would have to bite the bullet and stay with Kie at her parents. You'd figure it out. But you didn't want to be more of a burden than you already were on your best friends. 

John B and Sarah had left the following evening to go on a walk, where Sarah would tell him the good news. You'd figured you'd use that chance to explain to JJ what was happening. 

"Hey," you announce your presence, though it seems a bit unnecessary since you are both on opposite ends of the same couch. 

JJ directs his attention away from his phone and to you, "Yeah?"

"So, I needed to tell you something," JJ must notice how serious you are because he shuts off his phone and tilts his body to face you. "It's about our living arrangement."

"You wanna stay with Cleo?" He asks. "That must be hard." 

You weren't sure if anyone else had noticed how much separation from Cleo affected you, but apparently, JJ had enough insight to assume it would. 

"No, uh, it's not that," JJ waits for you to continue. "But what I'm about to say is a secret. Like, a huge one. So no one can know."

This makes JJ's brows knit together in confusion. "Okay? What is it?" 

"Sarah's pregnant." JJ's jaw drops with humorous speed before he begins to open and shut it. He's sputtering, unable to form a thought. 

"Relax," You say, giving him a peculiar look. "You're not the father." 

"She's pregnant? John B's gonna be a dad?"

You nod, letting him process this however he needs the time to. JJ sinks back into the couch as if he is being physically hit with the news. 

"Wow," his hands run through his hair. "Parents. They're gonna be parents," JJ shakes his head, and you wish you could be in his mind at this moment. Is he being judgmental? Is he worried?

"Wait, are they?" He asks suddenly, sitting up straighter. "Does she want us to— does she need our help. Is that why you're telling me?" It takes you a moment to understand what he means. 

"No, she doesn't need us for anything like that," you assure him, a bit caught off guard by his awareness of situations like these. JJ isn't the most emotionally intelligent guy, at least you don't think so, and his awareness of other potential options is a bit of a surprise. "They're going to be parents."

"Wow, that's… amazing," He mumbles. "For them. Could not be me, but good for them." You laugh, the JJ you know poking through from behind all the maturity. 

"Yeah, agreed," JJ chuckles at your grave tone. "But that's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Right," He nods, suddenly remembering the start of this conversation. 

"We need to leave. The apartment, I mean. They'll need their space, and we can't overstay our welcome." 

"Where would we even go?" JJ rubs his hand against his clean-shaven jaw. 

"I could stay with Cleo, and you'd probably hate this, but Kie's parents—"

"What? No way," JJ leans forward again, his expression tightening. "We're not splitting up."

"We aren't?" You ask dumbly. You had expected JJ to push back on leaving the apartment. It may have had just one bedroom, but it was better than any home he'd had before. Plus, it was much better than encroaching on the Carrera's property for him. You hadn't expected him to be concerned about you two going your own ways. 

"We have to stick together." There's a certainty in his stare and an edge to his voice that has you second-guessing yourself. It pins you in place and leaves you defenseless. "Or none of this will look real." 

Oh. Right. What else would he have been concerned about?  

"I doubt Kie or Pope's parents would blow our cover," you say, keeping your voice light, hoping to conceal any disorientation. JJ gives you a pointed look, and you sheepishly correct yourself: "Maybe Mike, but we can find a way past that."

JJ sighs, not laughing at your light attempt at humor, "We're not splitting up."

"We don't have anywhere to go, though," You sigh. "Remember, you said it yourself, no one else will cover for us."

JJ's shoulders fall, and he gives you a look that makes you want to take back everything you've ever said. He looks so… fragile. You may have missed it if you weren't looking at him as closely as you are, but it's undeniably there. 

"We cover each other," he shrugs, and with those four words, he speaks so nonchalantly that he eases the weight you've felt growing on your shoulders. He sighs again, leaning back against the couch. "I know somewhere we can crash." 

You wouldn't have imagined going along with that uncomfortably vague statement a week ago, but now you had no other option. All you can do is follow JJ blindly, even though your trust in him is hanging by a fragile thread. For once in your life, you don't bother asking questions. You're too exhausted to try to piece together your next steps as diligently as usual. You'll figure it out later. 

When Sarah and John B returned, you'd tried your best to arrange a celebratory dinner for them. You'd used the ridiculously expensive glassware Rafe had stocked the apartment with – because, of course, Kooks that could afford real estate on this side of the Island couldn't buy their own plates and cups – and put a very fancy peanut butter and jelly sandwich on each plate. It was all you could do, but you made Sarah's a double-decker for what it's worth. It hadn't made you feel great that you could hear her hurling the contents of her dinner from your spot in the living room (JJ had gotten a good laugh out of that). 

It had taken a lot of convincing and even more tears for Sarah and John B to agree to let you go. They had reasonably questioned where you planned to stay, and JJ mentioned something about a Jim Buckley. The name meant nothing to you, but John B seemed to understand. John B had looked apprehensive but hadn't shut the idea down completely, which made you feel better. He'd even driven the Twinkie to drop you two off while Sarah turned in earlier than usual. You'd held her tight and whispered your promise to her again. You and JJ separating from them was only physical. Nothing could keep you away from that baby now that you knew they existed. 

When John B pulls up to what looks like a dock, you step out of the car to give him and JJ privacy. They'reTheir connection is like yours and Cleo's. You've seen how they communicate without words and how sometimes the only person who can reel JJ in is John B. Saying goodbye will be painful, even with the sweet reminder of who you're all doing this for now. 

You take the time to figure out where you are. The dock extends over a large lake, not the ocean. There'sThere are only a few man-made lakes in the OBX since most Kooks are in the market for real estate by the ocean. You notice a secluded mansion that seems like it touches the sky. In typical Kook fashion, it's humongous, but unlike most other mansions, the nearest house to it is a few miles down. 

When JJ exits the Twinkie, his eyes are misty, but you don't comment on it. Instead, you'd sidle up to his side, your entire demeanor asking him what's next. You hate this– not knowing and not being in control. You never relinquish your control unless it's to Cleo, and it took a few years before you could get to that place with her. The itch for control is catching up to you.

"Why are we at a dock? Whose house is that?"

"That would be Jim Buckley's house. Used to maintain his boat for him when I was younger." You nod, waiting for him to expand on that, but he doesn't. 

"And he's going to kindly let us stay with him?" You ask, a false sense of hope laced in your tone. You know that's not happening. 

JJ snorts, "Yeah, right. No, we're gonna crash on this fine boat of his." JJ waves his hand in front of him, towards the water. You look at the dock, and there, tied firmly to a post, is a cabin cruiser. More specifically, a Yellowfin 54. You'd dreamed of having one since you were fifteen, and after moving to the Island, you would enviously look at each one you passed. 

"We're gonna stay here?" You ask with a slight pep in your voice. You try your best to mask that little bit of excitement and focus on the issue at hand. "We can't. We'll get caught."

"Don't gotta worry about that," JJ shrugs, heading towards the boat. You follow him as he explains further. "Jim's usually flying internationally for business and the missus is usually miles away at Kelce's dad's place when that happens."

"She's cheating on him?" You gasp.

JJ waves his hand behind him, "It's fine. Jim's probably doing the same in, like, China." 

"Um, okay. I'm going to ignore how you know this, but what about maintenance. If they're never here, it must be in horrible shape."

"I used to do maintenance for them, and I know for a fact they have someone take care of it every Tuesday at ten a.m., without fail," JJ offers, and you can't lie that your nerves are calming a bit. "He uses it when he's in town, and Janet puts him in the dog house."

"And Janet is Mrs. Buckley?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am, she is," JJ stops right in front of the boat, turning to smirk at you. "I was wondering when you'd start your interrogation."

"Shut up," you roll your eyes and sidestep him to get up onto the boat. You don't take the hand JJ's offering you; instead, you stick your hand out so he can use you as support. JJ gives you a sarcastic smile but still takes your hand. He doesn't let go as he guides you to the front of the boat. Lifting the cushion of one of the seats, he pulls out a small key.

"Jackass still keeps it here," JJ mumbled, throwing the key up before catching it in his fist. He has that dangerous look on his face, the one he gets when he's winning a risky gamble. JJ leads you to a short, narrow door on the side of the boat. Before he places the key in the lock, he pulls you in, searching your eyes. He seems like he's waiting on you. For what exactly, you're not sure, but he doesn't deter his staring. You don't have to voice your concerns. He's used to you badgering him with your distrust. 

Still, you say one thing. "JJ, someone could find us." 

"I know," he nods. His voice is quiet but steady. He's grounding you again, tethering you. He doesn't cut into your concerns. Instead, he catches them and holds them with care and understanding. "You don't have to trust this, but try to trust me," 

"Impossible, I know," he says. A small laugh bubbles past his lips, his expression genuinely amused. He steps forward then, using the hand that's still clad in yours to pull you towards him. The smile leaves his face, but his voice softens as he speaks. "But will you try? For us?"

The air around you compresses, pushing you two together until there is space for nothing except a little spark between your chests. A spark ignited by the words Us. That word hits you like a bad wave wiping you off your board. In a literal sense, you are an us, two people in this together. But it means so much more. Like, after you step into the cabin, everything will change. There won't be a you or JJ. There won't even be a you and JJ. It'll only be an Us. One unit. For better or for worse, it's Us. 

"I-I'll try," you stammer. JJ gives you a grateful smile. 

"We'll lay ground rules, make sure no one catches us," JJ promises. There really is nowhere else to go, and all you can do right now is either give this a shot or sleep on the streets. "And if we get caught, at least the jails have cots." Or that.

You hit your hand against JJ's arms, and he pulls away, laughing. He takes two small steps away from you, but the spark doesn't snap. It grows. No amount of distance can extinguish it now. 

He puts the key into the lock and opens the cabin door. You note that the door doesn't creek. He ducks his head and crouches to step inside, flicking the switch to his right. The dim light spills out around him. You follow his lead, his hand– still holding yours– pulling you through despite any lingering hesitation. 

The interior looks exactly as you remember seeing it online when you would mindlessly scroll. The "lounge" area consists of a leather couch built into the floor, a sink with a microwave over it, a fridge under it, and two doors. If your research is correct, one door will lead to a full-sized bed, and the other will lead to a restroom that makes a porta-potty seem big. You'd dreamed of having a boat like this for vacations and fishing days. You'd never wanted it to be your home. After you'd left Terrance, you hadn't wanted to return to ship life, but at least it wasn't foreign to you. You'd know how to maintain it and make it work. 

JJ strokes his thumb against the skin of your hand as he announces, "Home sweet home." 

"Home sweet home," You agree.

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @loves animals0000 @b3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor @chloemaybank @sandaltoesocks @thexplosivegirl @rudypankowisbae @marleymarleymarleymarley @snowtargaryen @awurtzx06 @yumwhy @rudypankowisbae @thxtmarvelchick @otra-chica-0 @agnxstic @rinaarii @kaisgirlie

[onlyswan]

summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

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“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter One - Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter One - Nice Try, Owens

It was the end of the second tornado-chasing season for (Y/n) and the Storm Riders. A couple of years ago a local bar in Oklahoma named the Dust Devil Dive hosted a yearly celebration party for all the storm chasers to relax and share stories from the year's chases. 

Granted, most times it was just your team, a few from Storm Par, another smaller team named Atmosphere Aces, and the Tornado Wranglers. Thankfully when the owners, Kathy and Randy, threw this party they closed the place down to outsiders, which included all of the Tornado Wrangler fans. You and your team got tired of having their fans around constantly just because the leader, if you could call him that, was good-looking and charismatic enough to make any girl who looked at him melt. That man is Tyler Owens. 

While, yes, he is good-looking and a smooth talker, he was also reckless and annoying. There were numerous times you had watched him and Boone drive into the middle of a storm in that old red truck of his and put it in park to then shoot fireworks up into the tornado. You’d have to admit that his bravery and respect for the storm were admirable; driving into the middle of a tornado was not as admirable. 

You smirked to yourself while sitting at the bar while sipping your whiskey and diet coke thinking of all the crazy stunts the Tornado Wranglers have pulled. You turned your barstool slightly to watch the teams intermingle on the dance floor, forgetting about all the turbulence everyone had gone through the last few weeks. 

As Rodney Atkins played throughout the bar, you turned back to the bar and finished your drink hearing everyone sing along at the top of their lungs. 

“If you’re going through hell, keep on going, don’t slow down!” They all sang, “If you’re scared, don’t show it, you might get out ‘fore the devil even knows you’re there!” 

In the corner of your eye, you could see Tyler playing pool with Dexter while trying to teach Ben, a journalist from a city near London. You smirked while watching Ben try to use the cue to hit the white ball on the table which was basically lined up with the seven ball and one of the corner pockets. 

While he took his shot and missed horribly by barely hitting the white ball and almost falling onto the table, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That caused Tyler to look up from under his cowboy hat and make eye contact with you. 

For a man you didn’t necessarily enjoy talking with, he sure did something to your brain chemistry. You lifted your new drink and slightly tipped it toward him in a cheers manner. He did the same with his beer bottle, the two of you both took a drink and you turned back to the bar where the bartender was asking if you needed anything else. 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, placing your glass back on its chintzy bar coaster. You took your phone out of your pocket and scrolled Facebook for a minute or two to catch up on your family's lives that you had been missing for the last few years while out storm chasing. 

“It’s hard for you, too, huh sweetheart?” A voice you knew instantly asked from beside you. 

You glanced over and saw Tyler sitting on the stool while putting his bottle on the bar to signal the bartender for another. 

“I wish I could go back more and- wait. Why am I telling you my sap story of not seeing my family for the last couple of years?” You laughed, putting your phone down and grabbing your drink. 

“Because I’m just another friendly face at the bar?” He said, looking over at you and smiling slightly. 

“I don’t know about friendly, but definitely another face,” you said, stirring your straw around. 

“Ouch, okay, (Y/n)’s in that type of mood tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I’m in no mood, Tyler,” you stated, “Just stating a fact.” 

“I see how it is,” he chuckled, “And to think I was talking to quite a beautiful face.” 

This statement took you back slightly, you were used to Tyler picking on you and calling you other things like your last name and calling you Salado, which is the town in Texas you’re from that’s about 45 minutes away from Waco, Texas. Salado is a quaint village with what you can call an artistic flair. While your parents were cattle farmers, you did your chores and spent time with a few favorite cows; you also liked going to the heart of the small town and enjoying the artists painting and sculpting in the parks and the numerous bands playing around the town in the little saloons. That’s where you fell in love with music and tried to pursue it as a second job aside from helping out on the farm as that was a full-time job. 

When that fell through, you moved up to Oklahoma to try storm chasing as you had always been in love with storms when you were little. Instead of hiding under the covers or running to your parents, you were at the big picture window in the living room watching the lightning and trees blowing in the wind. 

You were jolted from your thoughts by Tyler nudging your elbow with his. 

“Hmm?” You asked. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, standing up and holding his hand out to you. In the mirror behind the bar, you could see the teams paired up in couples to do their best slow dancing. 

You laughed slightly, “Nice try, Owens.” 

“Please? We’re the only ones not dancing right now,” he said, taking your hand off your glass and pulling you to the dance floor to the tune of ‘Made For You’ by Jake Owen. 

He didn’t give you much of a chance to say no as he pulled you to his chest, his right hand going to your waist and his left finding your hand. You sighed to yourself and put your left on his bicep, which was more muscular feeling than it looked. You figured as long as you were here, you might as well enjoy the dance since the last time you slow danced was with your dad at a friend's wedding. 

You weren’t sure if he was just that intoxicated or if he was fully coherent, but he was rubbing small circles with his thumb on your hip while you both swayed to the music. While your body relaxed you took a deep breath in, smelling the mix of leather, dried rain, an almost musky smell, and a hint of sweat. All of it combined made your heart swoon for this crazy cowboy. 

“Hey (L/n)?” He whispered in your ear, holding his head close to yours. 

“Yeah, Owens?” You whispered back. 

“Think maybe sometime I can take you out?”

You looked up at his blueish green eyes that looked down at you with the most sincere look. 

“Why?” You asked, giggling slightly, “Why would Tyler Owens want to go out with someone like me?”

“Because the girl I’m holding in my arms is the best woman I’ve met in my years of livin’,” he stated, pressing the bridge of his nose to the top of your head. 

“Yeah right, Tyler,” you said, sighing, “Everyone knows you got a thing for Kate.” 

“But she is nothing compared to you,” he said, pulling you closer slightly, “Call me crazy, but I fell in love with you when we first met and I knew I’d have to try and get closer to you somehow. I just hate that it’s taken me this long to finally say somethin.” 

“I guess I don’t believe you?” You said softly, taking in the scent you’ve grown to want more of.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he said, “It might be, well, I know it’s the beer talkin’, but everything I’m sayin’ is true. You’re one of the smartest and most beautiful girls I’ve seen. And that’s sayin’ a lot since I’ve seen my fair share of gals.” 

“I can’t tell if that last part is an insult or a compliment,” you whispered, Tyler kissing the top of your head softly. 

“Always a compliment when it comes to you, baby girl,” he said, pulling away and twirling you as the song ended and ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ by Luke Combs started. 

You looked back up at him, his eyes looking back at you with happiness sewn in them.

“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt, just no YouTube star Tyler, got it?” You said, walking back to your seat at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, following you to the bar. 

“You should probably get back to your game of pool before Ben hurts someone,” you giggle, Tyler looking over and seeing Ben almost hit Boone in the gut with the end of the cue. 

“Good call, I’ll be back once we win,” he said while grabbing his beer. 

“If you win,” you state, taking a drink of your now watered-down whiskey coke. 

“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your head, kissing it before walking back to Dexter and Ben. 

You shook your head and laughed softly. If the tornadoes you chased didn’t do anything to you, this cowboy definitely would. 

Want more? Here's Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

[magics-neptunes-things]

Hide And Seek

Hi guys!

Another request that you can find it here, even if I'm only going to write it in one part.

Resume : Two times you and your secret girlfriend almost got caught by your big sister and the time she caught you.

Warning : Fluff, swearing (because it's Lucy), a little bit of angst because I like it with a happy ending. !BronzeReader

You met Alessia thanks to your big sister Lucy Bronze. These two playing together in the national team, it was not difficult to meet her. You meet her several times even, whether at parties for their different victories or when you go to see Lucy at her training sessions. You always thought Alessia was beautiful, but when you heard her talk about her boyfriend with Ella a few years ago, you got used to the idea that it was better to give up.

The months and years passed and Alessia was single for a little while when you had the opportunity to have a moment of exchange just the two of them, during their final win at the Euro. After having celebrated this with the families, some of them decided to extend the party in a nightclub and you accepted when Lucy offered to accompany them. Jorge being a father, he had to resolve to let his two sisters go without him, but you promised him to stay wise and not drink too much.

Lucy, on the other hand, just sneered at him. She is dancing in the middle of the track with several of her teammates, including Leah Williamson on fire. For your part, you watch the scene with a smile, proud of what your sister and her team has achieved.

"What are you doing alone?"

You raise your head to realize that the person who asked you this question is nobody but Alessia. You joked that it could have passed for a lame line from a lame flirt and when she blushed while sitting next to you you found yourself falling for her even harder.

You discussed the rest of the night, interrupted only when the nightclub owners kicked you out. When you arrived home, you could see that Alessia had started following you on Instagram and your relationship started like that. You made the decision not to tell anyone, starting with Lucy. There are some implicit rules in family life, starting with not getting in a relationship with your sister’s friends.

The first time you almost got caught was during the winter football break.

"Raise and shine baby, your sister's here!"

You are awakened with a start, the voice of your sister causing you a start of panic attack. This is not the first time she comes at yours when she's home from Barcelona, usually to bring you breakfast and spend time with you. And you like it, as much as you love your big sister.

However, this morning, there is Alessia with you in your bed. An Alessia not fully dressed, hair in bulk and eyes still asleep. This doesn't prevent her from throwing you a look of pure panic. Lucy doesn’t know that you two share more than a purely friendly relationship, you know that she wouldn’t appreciate you dating one of her friends. Just as it would be perfectly reciprocal if things were reversed.

"Y/N are you still sleeping? It’s past 10am"

You have always been a big sleeper, you are constantly quarrelled with this in your family. You quickly get up from your bed and beckons Alessia to do the same.

"I’m coming! Give me time to get dressed and I’ll come" you answer.

She grumbles and settles on your sofa, turning on the television. You appreciate even more the fact that she feels at home when she is with you. This will allow you to whisper with Alessia to get you out of this bad step.

"You have to hide" you mumble to Alessia while putting on a t-shirt.

"Where? I won’t hide in your closet, I warn you"

"Get dressed to start"

Alessia’s blue eyes cast a reproachful glance at you, certainly linked to the tone of the voice you just used. You apologize with a look and watch her get dressed.

"Go find your sister instead of looking at me, creep"

You roll your eyes and gently open the door to find Lucy actually installed in the living room. When she sees you appear she jumps on her legs and hurries to join the kitchen. Maybe things aren’t going to be as complicated as you thought.

All you have to do is keep her from entering your bedroom.

Lucy sitting at your kitchen table, you exchange the latest news of your lives while you put what she brought on plates. You listen to her talk about her life in Barcelona and you smirks when you hear her talk about this famous girl who seems to take more and more in her life, maybe joining Barcelona this summer.

"What?" she asks you when she sees you smiling.

"Nothing" you answer before laughing and biting into your toast.

You change the subject of conversation, going back to your nephew’s next birthday hoping that she does not delay too much. You can’t help but think of Alessia still waiting to get out of your bedroom.

"By the way, I need my camera back. You have it, you know where you put it?"

Busy doing the dishes after your breakfast and a few games of Mario Kart, you start answering without really thinking.

"It's on the dresser in my bedr…"

Holly shit.

By the time you turn around, Lucy’s already headed to your room and opened the door. You run after her, ready to face Alessia lying on your bed, but she’s not visible anywhere.

"Thank you" Lucy smiles, not noticing your lost look. "I have to go, but I’ll see you later, ok?"

"Sure. Can't wait to meet Ona though" you mumble, still looking around.

She gives you a light punch behind the back of the skull, puts a kiss on your cheek and leaves as fast as she comes. The door of your apartment closes and you turn towards your room.

"Lessi?"

The door of your closet opens slowly to reveal your girlfriend, her eyes cold and her face closed. She is really not happy at all.

"I am so sorry"

She grumbles for any answer but accepts the hand you hold out to help her get out of the furniture. You tell her again your apology, applying yourself to lay as many kisses on her face as possible, until she finally offers you one of her smiles that you love so much.

"It’s an original way to get out of the closet, though" you joke softly in the pit of her ear.

She frowns and punches you in the back of the head, right where Lucy did it to you earlier.

"Ouch? I didn’t know you were in the category of abusive girlfriends?"

She rolls her eyes and leaves the room, making you smile when seeing her rush to the toilet. You go back to the living room and prepare a plate with what’s left of the breakfast, determined to make amends. And, sorry Lucy, but you can’t help but tell her about your sister’s confidence earlier.

********

The second time you almost got caught was during the World Cup. You made the trip for the entire tournament, officially to support your beloved big sister. Unofficially to spend time with your girlfriend, which you simply can’t live without. You spent two separate weeks for her training camp and that was enough for you. By an incredible chance you found a job in London to be able to follow Alessia without it attracting anyone’s attention. Maybe because you were in the confidence of Alessia leaving Manchester for Arsenal from the beginning and you were able to do things smoothly.

After resigning, you have almost two months free before returning to work and you decided to fly to Australia.

Alessia sharing her room with Ella, you have at first to show imagination to be able to see you. Even if you are in the stands every time, it’s obviously out of the question that she comes to kiss you as if nothing had happened. Alessia finally confessed that she was seeing someone, not to mention your identity. Ella tried to find out more, but the pretty blonde didn’t want to embarrass her best friend and make her life complicated. If Lucy finds out about you and knows that Ella also knows, Tooney might get scolded too.

Except it only lasted four days before Ella understood. After helping Alessia escape from the surveillance of their teammates for a secret date on a beach, Ella didn’t think much of anything anymore. Eager to change her mind, she proposed a little nocturne ride to everyone and this was accepted by Lucy, always willing to discover the voisinage, Mary and Maya.

It was only when they turned around a street corner that they had never explored to come across a small beach that an alarm sounded in her head. She easily recognized the silhouette of her best friend, sitting on the wall at the beginning of the beach. However, she didn’t have time to try to recognize who was with Alessia that Lucy’s incredulous voice resonated beside her.

"Y/N?"

When you heard the voice of your older sister, you jumped and hurried to get up. And Ella understood.

"What are you doing here?"

"We asked her to come see you, we made this with Alessia" the surprise passed, Ella quickly made her brain work. " You seemed a little down because of your knee, so we thought seeing someone from your family would make you happy. Lessi had to meet her here and I had to take you there."

Alessia’s panicked look quickly turned into a look of relief when Lucy seemed to gladly accept the answer. Especially since it is true that her knee worries her and that the idea that this World Cup is the last one works a lot.

So happily passing her arm around your shoulders, she takes you a little further away from the others. Luckily, Maya and Mary didn’t seem to doubt Ella’s story. But seeing her best friend’s eyes, Alessia quickly understood that she was going to have some explanations to give her.

In any case, fortunately your kissing session had ended a few minutes earlier.

Lucy is back from Barcelona for the training camps for the national team, like many of her teammates. With the latter taking place in London, Alessia doesn’t have a lot of travelling to join it on the first day. That is why, the evening before, you went out to see a concert. And it might be possible that you will extend the evening by going for a drink somewhere. Alessia is not a nobody, but you are always careful not to be too intimate towards each other when you know you can be seen.

Except that last night, alcohol and the prospect of not being able to see you for a few days may have made you lose your mind.

And that’s why pictures of you and Alessia kissing each other appeared on the net. These kisses against a red brick wall in a London street certainly brought a very pleasant moment when you returned to Alessia’s apartment, but if the blonde could disappear under the ground now, she would. Her teammates obviously came across the photos and teased her with it since this morning.

By a miracle, it’s almost impossible to recognize you. They only see your hair and your back while Alessia’s face is perfectly recognizable. Ella tried to divert the attention of their friends by all possibilities, discovering herself a fan-girl side for your couple, but in vain.

Even worse, attracted by the giggles of the girls and the pink cheeks of Alessia, Lucy comes to mingle in the conversation.

"What did I miss?" Lucy asks while sitting next to Mary.

"Alessia has a secret girlfriend" sings Lotte maliciously.

A little surprise laugh escapes from your big sister’s lips, which Alessia avoids looking in the eyes since she realized that she and you have exactly the same color.

"I thought you were straight?" asks Lucy, curiously looking at your blonde.

"I’ve never stuck labels on myself" Alessia mumbles as she looks at her hands.

"You’ve only been with boys so far" Esme gently says.

"What do you want me to say? She changed my mind."

That was true. Without making a fuss, Alessia had always imagined herself as heterosexual before getting closer to you and realizing that it was not friendly hugs that she wanted to give you.

"Let me see the pictures"

Lucy reaches out to Maya's phone, who willingly reaches out. Alessia winces when she sees Lucy reading the article and enlarging the photos. You also saw the article, obviously. You tried to reassure Alessia by telling her that no one could recognize you and that it would eventually settle down.

"Can’t you leave her alone?" intervenes Ella, anxious to protect her best friend.

But Lucy doesn’t listen, distracted by the photos. Her eyebrows gently frown.

"Wait, I know this tattoo"

Oh no. Becoming white in a second, Alessia stands from her chair the most discreetly possible but barely has time to take a few steps before a roar sounds behind her.

"Alessia Mia Teresa Fucking Russo!"

Rushing to hide behind Mary who innocently enters the cafeteria, Alessia barely has time to hide behind the goalie’s shoulder as Lucy is already with her.

"Mary please, she’s going to kill me"

"Lucia what the fuck?" asks Mary, moving Lucy away from Alessia, putting her hand on her chest.

"It’s my sister! It’s my fucking little sister she’s kissing in these fucking pictures!"

********

You didn't hear about Alessia that night.

You tried to call her at the same time as usual, but not seeing her answer you simply told yourself that she was busy and that she was going to call you back. When you saw that the hours were passing and that it was not the case, the worry that she was injured became too strong. So, despite your desire not to disturb people, you tried to contact Ella. She did not answer you either, increasing your anxiety.

With no one else aware, it was impossible to contact anyone else to ask about Alessia. So you spent a sleepless night looking at your phone screen hoping to get a message, but nothing. The day has passed and you have never been so ineffective in your life at work. Your fear turned into anxiety throughout the day, unable to distract your mind from Alessia.

It wasn’t until the evening that you received notification of a message from Alessia. Except the message you received was far from what you expected.

From LessiBaby 🧸❤️‍🔥 We are over

From You What are you talking about baby? Are you alright? I was really worried, what happened?

From LessiBaby 🧸❤️‍🔥 You and me. We are over... I'm sorry Don't contact me again pls

And after that, Alessia had to block you since you couldn’t call her and none of your messages could be delivered to her.

A breakup with the woman you’re in love with is hard. But it’s even harder not to understand why. Everything was perfectly fine when she left for camp, she even took care to leave you several of her hoodies so that you can sleep with them in her absence, promising to see you as soon as she had the opportunity.

Then, finally, the infernal spiral of your thoughts made you understand that she had surely realized that she deserved better than you. A sportsman or woman like her, who surely does something more interesting than a simple job in an international company. Someone she could expose herself with.

On the third day of your breakup, you were unable to get out of bed to go to work. Feeling that something was wrong with you, your closest friend in London, who is also one of your colleagues arrived at your house. She didn’t ask a question when she saw you in your pajamas at 2:00 in the afternoon, eating chocolate ice cream in front of the television.

Instead, she made you pack a bag and took you home for the weekend. The first day you refused to leave the guest room, only answering your mother’s messages so she wouldn’t think you were murdered in a dark alley in London. The second day you confided in Ashley about the whole story. She listened to you, didn’t judge you for a second and tried to give you some advice.

When Lucy wrote to you asking you to go for a drink, you refused on the pretext of having something planned with Ashley. You know that your sister would quickly understand that something is happening in your private life if she sees you and you don’t want to talk to her about it.

The following Monday, you and your sadness returned to work under Ashley’s encouragement. Her boyfriend must have thought you were a psychopath but didn’t comment on your physical or mental state either. It allowed you to confirm to Ashley that he was a good man.

In the evening, you returned home, making a new night routine. Often just taking time to shower, you went back to bed quickly. The only news you have of Alessia is on England’s national team social media. Despite the pain of these images, you can’t help but look at them. She’s still beautiful. Tired maybe, but anyone is tired during these camps. You know they’re intense.

On Friday night, Ashley practically came to take you out of your bed to get out. She forced you to shower and put on something other than an Alessia sweater. However, you refused to wear make-up and fix your hair other than in a messy bun. You put on a ripped jeans and a white top with your black leather jacket and that’s enough.

You don’t know the bar Ashley is taking you to, which is not surprising since you’re still new to London. What you do know is that the hubbub that sounds as soon as you enter it will soon cause you a headache.

"Can you at least fake that you're not dying from the inside?" Ashley laughs softly after you have your drinks.

"Sorry" you mumble, well aware of your unpleasant company.

"I asked John to come, is it ok?" Ashley asks, mentioning her boyfriend.

You mumble that it's fine, before the door opens again leaving a group of about ten people to enter. You automatically glance at it before freezing to see who it is. There is at least half of the Lioness contingent. Mary, Milie, Leah, Keira, Lucy, Lauren, Beth, Georgia and Alessia and Ella closing the march. You shift on your seat, staring at Ashley.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"No! Of course not!"

You don’t have to study her face long to understand that it’s not Ashley who did it, but fate. Finishing your Daiquiri in one go, you turn towards your friend.

"You have five seconds to figure out a way to get me out of here without me getting noticed"

You didn’t respond to Lucy’s last messages with more than one sentence, also refusing a proposal to go for a coffee before one of her workouts. As for Alessia, you don’t have the courage to look at her now. You look at your fingers, fearing to turn into a salt statue or worse, to see her happy and smiling while you cried last night while not managing to open your new jar of jam.

Luckily, the small group chose a table at the end of the room, allowing you to think about an action plan.

"Your girlfriend doesn’t look very happy" says Ashley, who can’t resist observing them.

"Ex" you whisper, still looking at your fingers.

Ashley stays silent and you jump when someone falls between you on a chair. But it’s just John, leaning over to put a delicate kiss on Ashley’s lips. You greet him with a vague smile, happy to see that despite your breakup you manage to bear the happiness of others.

Ashley asked you if she could tell your story to John and you agreed, certain that the poor man didn’t care much about your problems. But you were wrong and he always shows you kindness and empathy.

A grimace appears on his face when your friend informs him of the situation and you shrug your shoulders in return. It’s at this precise moment that you realize how much you miss your big brother and that you feel guilty for not having written to him these last days. John is friendly but he’s nothing like Jorge.

You end up looking at the players' table, automatically looking for Alessia’s figure. Sitting next to Ella, of course. If the latter seems in full conversation with Milie, Alessia is leaning against the back of the bench, staring at the table in front of her. It makes you frown, if she is at the initiative of your breakup, why does she seem sad too?

Your eyes slide down to your sister at the end of the table. Her head leaning on her hand, she also talks with someone you can’t see, her eyes going around the room to discover the decoration.

"I have to get out of here," you whisper as you turn to your couple of friends.

"I’ll help you."

John throws you his cap that you put on your head to hide yourself. You hope to sneak out discreetly. Getting up, you let yourself be carried away by John who passed a protective arm around your shoulders. You sigh of relief when he opens the door of the pub, before finding you nailed to the ground, facing Mary Earps.

"Y/N? Who’s that?"

Her eyes get cold when they land on John and you quickly understand why. He also hurries to remove his arm from your shoulders, but you force the way out of the establishment. There’s no way you’re gonna get you spotted now.

"John, a friend. Don’t look at me like that, his girlfriend is inside and he was just helping me out."

After making sure he can leave you, John returns inside, probably impressed by Mary's icy look. You can understand.

"I’ll let your sister know you’re here" Mary informs you by grabbing her phone.

"No, no! please…"

Mary again raises her gaze on you and it’s your turn to find yourself in front of her icy gaze.

"Oh yes. Enough of your stories, I’m tired of Alessia looking at Lucy like she killed your whole family. And to see Lucy look at Alessia like she killed your whole family. And you look like someone who lost their whole family. If I don’t do it for you, I do it for my own sanity."

"I don’t understand what you’re saying "

Mary doesn’t answer, typing on her phone. You don’t have much time to think about it since Lucy comes out of the establishment, a questioning look on her face.

"Y/N?" makes Lucy gently before offering you a brief embrace.

You let her, determined to understand what’s going on before you get angry. You still missed her. A long silence passes, finally interrupted by Mary’s exasperated sigh.

"You’re not even trying. Okay. Lucy, explain why you made Alessia break up with your sister, please?"

"What?!" you jump.

You knew there was very little chance that Lucy would react well to this announcement, but between that and pushing Alessia to break up with you, there’s a world.

"I didn’t force her to break up, I told her what I thought of your relationship and the fact that you preferred to hide it from me rather than tell me."

"You told her that she was a traitor you couldn’t trust and that she should be ashamed of betraying her friends like she did."

Mary’s objection makes Lucy wince and makes you frown. You can imagine how much these words must have affected Alessia, it’s hardly anything that was thrown in her face when she left Manchester for Arsenal.

"What have you done Lucia?"

Even if she rolls her eyes when you say her full name, she still looks embarrassed. And you, kinda angry.

"I messed up. I tried to talk to you this week about it, but you were always busy."

"I wasn't busy, I was fucking heartbroken Luce! You didn't have the right to get into my relationship!"

You're cold, but you can't understand how or why Lucy would make a move like this. You never said anything about her relationships, unless it was friendly teasing.

Lucy opens her mouth again to speak, but it is only Alessia’s sweet voice that you hear above all this hubbub.

"Y/N?"

"Hi" you sigh by sliding your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

You remember bitterly that a few minutes ago, you had hoped to leave here quietly. A new silence takes place during which each of you is observed the others without knowing what to say. Mary finally reacts, taking Lucy by the arm to get her inside again, telling her that she will have time to reconcile with her little sister later.

So you find yourself alone in front of Alessia and you don’t know what to say to her. Worse, you realize you’re angry at her too.

"I’m sorry" said Alessia after a few seconds.

"I don't understand"

You can’t face her. While the only thing you wanted less than two hours ago was to be able to find her arms back, you now just want to go home and that the whole world leaves you alone.

"What don’t you understand?" asks Alessia gently.

"Why didn’t you fight for me? For us? Lucy tells you to end our relationship and you did, without even giving me any explanations or reasons. Do you have any idea what happened in my head?"

Alessia swallows, apparently not expecting you to talk to her that way. Aside from the little arguments, you never got confused. You don’t even know if she saw you once angry. But now you feel it boiling in your veins. And, as every time you are angry, you feel tears in your eyes and it annoys you even more.

"I told myself that you had found someone else or that you had realized that you wanted someone with whom things would be easier. Maybe someone more athletic, smarter or even more available than me. That you might have realized you deserved better than me, after all who cares about a simple accountant, huh?"

You see she wants to answer you, but now that you’re on the move, you can’t stop. You even take a step in her direction, pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

"I was in love with you, I would have done anything for you, Alessia. And it destroys me to see that it is not reciprocal."

Like you, Alessia has tears in her eyes. She looks like she’s blown away by everything you just threw in her face, like a boxer who just got hit in the face. That’s when Ashley comes out of the bar, freezing as she sees the scene. What a great timing.

"Can you please take me home?"

"Of course."

You need 20 minutes to get home. Meanwhile, as if to support the bad atmosphere, the clouds began to pour torrents of water on London. You had to promise Ashley several times that you were gonna be okay before she let you join your apartment alone. Despite the small hundred meters that you have to do to reach your building, you are quickly soaked.

Once at home, you hurry to get rid of your wet clothes to take a hot shower and put on a jogging bottom and a t-shirt much too big for you. This one also belongs to Alessia. Your phone stayed on your nightstand and you decided to leave it there. You just want the world to leave you alone. Armed with a hot chocolate and a plaid, you sit in front of the television and launch the first season of Friend’s.

An hour later, you jump when you hear someone knocking on your door. Fortunately, your cup has been empty ever since. You hesitate a few seconds to answer, before getting up, sighing.

You don’t know what you expected, but certainly not that. Alessia, wearing the same clothes you left her in front of the bar, soaked from head to toe. Her hair is stuck to her face and her clothes are glued to her body. She’s dripping on your doormat, but that doesn’t seem to be the most important thing to her right now.

You might have found her sexy if you hadn’t been seriously worried about her health.

"Jesus Alessia" you whisper before you let her in.

The young woman tries to speak but she shudders so much that you cannot understand anything with her teeth colliding.

"No wait, hush, shut up" you mumble

Without giving her the choice or really explaining what you are doing, you drag her into your bathroom. There, you push her under the shower all dressed and turn on the hot water, determined to warm her up as quickly as possible. You’re genuinely afraid she’ll end up hypothermic.

"Did you walk from the bar to here?" You ask her after a few minutes.

Alessia crossed her arms on her chest, probably trying to warm up faster. She still trembles but nevertheless manages to make an understandable sentence.

"I had to know."

"Know what?"

Still under hot water, Alessia takes a step in your direction to be closer to you. Unlike earlier, your voice is calm and concerned. And no matter how much you think, you don’t see what she wants to know.

"Earlier. You said I was in love with you. You used the past"

"Alessia…"

It was obviously not voluntary and finding you immersed in the blue of her eyes takes you back to every single good memory you had with her. You don't want to lie to her, you have always entrusted everything of your thoughts to her because you have full confidence in her.

"Please Y/N. I need to know. Do you still love me?"

Her voice trembles again, but it’s not because of the cold this time. You feel your heart break a little when you see that her eyes are full of tears and that some have even started to roll on her cheeks, mixing with the hot water.

"Of course I do" you end up whispering.

In less than two seconds, Alessia grabbed you by the shirt and you’re stuck between her and the wall. Two more seconds later and her lips are on yours. They’re cold, indicating that her body heat is still not at the right temperature. But that’s the least of your concerns. Her hands are all over you and you try to respond to the force of the kiss that Alessia offers you. This mixture of passion and despair is rather surprising and you must quickly catch your breath.

When Alessia looks back at you, her look makes you wonder if she will tear your clothes off or start crying again. She ends up opting for a third option, pressing her forehead on yours.

"I never wanted anyone but you. I’m sorry that such ideas came to mind. I’ve shown you very badly, but it’s always been you. I don’t want anyone but you."

The fervor of Alessia’s words cuts your breath. Her gaze in yours confirms that she truly thinks every word she just said. You smile at her, lightly stroking her cheek.

"Let's get out from here, right?"

You hurry out in the shower to wrap yourself in a towel, reluctantly removing the t-shirt you like so much. After taking out a towel for Alessia, you quickly get dressed, this time putting on a hoodie and an old shorts with the Manchester United logo. You also get something out for Alessia and when she’s dressed you slip under your duvet.

Alessia once again loses not a second before drawing you against her and you let her do it with pleasure, delighted to find your favorite smell.

"We need to talk to Lucy" Alessia whispers after a few seconds.

You let go of a little grunt for a simple answer. Now that you are reconciled with Alessia, you are not even angry with your big sister.

"Tomorrow" you answer before putting yourself on your stomach to be able to better observe it.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No" you answer, smiling as you see the relief on Alessia’s face. "Lucy told me she tried to contact me to discuss this with me. You know what it was for?"

"I think a discussion with Mary and Leah made her realize she didn’t choose the right way. They must have seen that those few days were complicated for me. I think she wanted to see how you lived it."

You just hum, resting your head on her shoulder. But Alessia won’t let you do it since she gently raises your face in her direction. Keeping her hand under your chin, she gently strokes your cheek with her thumb while talking to you.

"I need to know what you’re thinking. You used to tell me everything without filter and now I feel like you’re holding everything"

"I’m just still a little confused" you explain with a frown, trying to formulate as best as possible what is happening in your head. "I didn’t know Lucy was the reason you broke up with me. It was so sudden… First you didn’t answer my messages, Ella neither and then you wrote to me to tell me it was over and to stop writing to you. And then I realized you blocked me on all your social media. The only way I could make sure you were still alive was by the brief seconds you appeared on the Lionesses account."

"I am so sorry"

Alessia’s voice is strangled by emotion and you know perfectly well that she never tried to hurt you.

"I thought I’d lose you forever and now you’re back. I’m gonna need a few days to realise that I'm not dreaming."

"Would you like me to leave you alone tonight?"

"No! Never go again" you exclaim, supporting your words by wrapping your body around it.

Alessia’s laughter makes you smile and you close your eyes to well being when you feel that she puts a kiss on your hair.

It’s only at this moment that you realize that the screen of your phone turns on. Stretching your arm, you grab it and frown as you notice that you have ten missed calls from Lucy, as many Ella and other numbers that you don’t even know.

"What the fuck?" you mumble.

"What’s happening?"

You need two seconds to focus on what’s going on, Alessia’s lips being busy stroking your neck. You turn the screen in her direction to show her the notifications, making her frown too. You don’t have time to think any longer as your phone rings again, indicating Ella’s phone number.

Sitting on Alessia’s hips, you pick up, still so lost.

"Hello?"

"Y/N! Thank God! Alessia disappeared, she left without taking her bag or even her phone"

"Oh" you mumble, pinching your nose. "Don’t worry, she’s at my house. She’s fine."

"What?! We’ve been looking for her for hours, give her your phone!"

With a little smile of apology, you hand your phone to Alessia. She grabs it with a constrained air and you put a kiss on her cheek while seeing her startle when her best friend yells at her. You can understand every word Ella utters and carefully watch Alessia’s face go from pout to frown following the words spoken by the Manchester United player.

You take advantage of your position to observe Alessia’s face, in search of change. You can’t find anything, except that she looks tired. When your fingers begin to slide gently across her face, Alessia’s eyes look for yours. You simply give her a tender smile, to which she responds almost timidly, while continuing your caresses. It takes you a few seconds to realize that Ella’s voice has finished resonating at the end of the phone, taken in your moment.

"I’m sorry Ella, I didn’t think you’d panic like this"

You still hear some furious exclamations on the other end of the phone, making you smile softly.

"I’m sorry. Can you cover me with the coaches for tonight? I’ll explain everything, I promise."

Alessia smiles as she hears Ella groan something in return, making you laugh silently.

"Thank you. Love you"

After that, she gives you your phone back and you quickly answer Lucy that you will talk tomorrow.

"She’s not very happy," Alessia comments, sliding her hands on your knees.

"Didn’t you tell them you were leaving?"

"No. And now can I have a kiss please?"

You smile and put your phone on the bedside table, amused to feel Alessia pull you by the sweater. It’s obviously with great pleasure that you oblige, putting your lips on hers.

alessiarusso99 and yourinstagram

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alessiarusso99 Time to let them know I’m yours ❤️🤍

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YourInstagram I love you SO MUCH ❤️🤍  

↳ alessiarusso99 Love you

ella.toone Parents 🫶

lucybronze 😘

user1 Not Lessi hitting on Lucy's little sister 😂

liked by you

user2 It's as cute as unexpected

↳ user3 I saw them at England's last game. The alchemy was tangible.

↳ user4 she was wearing a Russo jersey too

[nrdmssgs]

Pookie would you hear me out on nikto interacting with our very spoiled very bratty cat cause I just got a fussy cat and honestly I get those cat owners who let their cat break their shit now

Masterlist

At this point you better admit it, love: you intend to beat this life on a hard level. Because having a spoiled kitty and this man around? Now that would be a lot.

He would get along with your cat relatively fast. One minute you turn away to bring him treats so that your cat might become interested in him, the next minute you return only to find your fluffy little treasure peacefully purring on his lap.

"H-how did you?.."

"Just ignored him."

This man knows how cats function. Not because he has that much experience handling these pet (he doesn't), but because this guy is himself a big cat stuck in a human body sometimes.

Sitting in a far corner and looking at the only person not paying him attention, barely blinking, is his way of manifesting his interest in them.

You remember, how you finally bought that fancy and madly-expensive toy for your cat and the little devil ended up playing with the amazon box instead of the toy itself? Well now you have a man, that will throw a silent death glare at you if you try to pull the gift box out of his hands and let him enjoy his gift.

"The box is a part of a gift. You packed it for me. I keep it."

Your cat wakes you up in the middle of the night with a loud meow and an adrenalin dance? Now the kitty got a partner in crime. Don't go to your kitchen at 2 am, even if the sounds reaching you from there are very concerning. You will find a big burly guy, standing before the heated frying pan in an absolute darkness, your cat on his shoulder. Two pairs of widened predatory eyes: pale blue and green.

"Idi spat, radost`, my s kotom gotovim bliny.*"

Idi spat, radost`, my s kotom gotovim bliny.* - Go to sleep, my joy, the cat and I are making pancakes.

[melanirana]

A Tune and a Drink

singer!reader x bartender!sun/ moon

Suprise! Have a little something. You are a singer in the 1930's and two specific bartenders have caught your eye, just like you have caught theirs.

I even have a musik recommendation for this one. Habits - Vintage 1930's cover and Levitating - 1920s style cover by PostmodernJukebox on YouTube. Check em' out they're really good.

with that said, enjoy

It’s the 1930’s, the era of glamour, fashion, parties but most of all, good music. Big cities are getting bigger, new opportunities arise on all sides, technology is advancing and you are right in the middle of it.

You are known throughout the whole city, not famous enough to be known across states but known enough that clubs and bars fight to have you sing on their stage. To have you bless their establishments with your voice and draw in the people, so these people make their bar The City Bar.

Whenever you agree to sing at their club they make it known immediately. Whether that is through the newspaper, telling their guests who tell it their acquaintances, or hanging papers around the city. 

“downright heavenly”

“the voice of an angel”

“as powerful as it’s wonderful”

“rich with a beautiful smoky undertone” they call your voice. A bit of an exaggeration you think, you can agree on the smoky undertone but the rest. It must be because you hear your voice every day, when you wake from sleep, when you talk, when you warm up, when you practice when you sing.

But other people only hear you when you sing, it isn’t often it is a special occasion, it is desired it is sought after. To them it means so much and therefore it means so much to you. To sing for people, to lighten their day, to make them happy.

There is barely ever you turn down an offer to sing, it is simply a matter of when you have time again. More often than not you don’t come back to a bar for a month or two, too busy singing somewhere else, writing, or any other reason.

So why is it, that even with such a full schedule, you always find time to come back to sing at one certain high-profile bar named Celestias. 

People wonder. Is it close to home. Do you have a deal with the bar. Does it mean something to you. Is it the celebrities that frequent this establishment. Or is it simply the wonderful view of the river that divides the city, that flows right by the building.

All good guesses, but utterly wrong.

The reason you keep returning is the bar, those how tend to it specifically. Two highly advanced Animatronics.

Metal polished like a brand new 540 K Special-Roadster, but not just a car. Highly advanced machinery capable of many things, but not an industrial machine. Eyes that see, hands that move, mouths that speak, but not human.

The robot pair is truly unique with their circular faces and wonderful colors. One bright as a golden Charleston-dress under a chandelier, eyes so wonderfully bleu they seem to be carved out of the ocean itself with a crown of metallic rays. The other shines like a blue evening gown under a low light, eyes as dangerous and enticing as a ruby with a long silk night cap that looks like it was sewn from the night sky.

Both with crescents that split their faces in the fashion of theater masks.

Both wear high-quality suits, the black of the suits contrast with their color, making their color shine even more and complementing their long limbs. A thick tie sits at the base of their slim metal necks, the end tucked neatly into their suits. The golden animatronic’s tie is a rich scarlet as well as his half gloves that always cover the animatronic’s hands. The blue animatronic’s tie and gloves contrast his counterparts wonderfully with their deep navy blue.

The robots are the bar's pride and joy, placed where everybody passes by, and the reason why they come here. The bar.

You noticed the animatronics the first time you visited, they were hard to miss as the owner proudly showed you them, even when it was from across the room. After that you had no time to pay the two bartenders any mind, quickly surrounded by people eager to meet you followed by your performance only to once again be surrounded by more people.

It was only your third visit that you truly saw them, and saw them you did. In the middle of your performance your gaze wandered to the bar, and what you saw was the golden robot cleaning a glass and looking at you.

You were no stranger to being looked at, your place was the stage after all, but the way the robot looked at you was different from the usual. Almost love-struck in that wonderful half-lidded lazy smile kind of way.

Your response to the animatronic’s gaze was a particular smile while singing a more romantic part of your song. This would have people hiding their faces as they reddened, have them melting on the table they are leaning on, or your favorite, bring a hand to their face as they hide their giddy giggles.

This however was not the response you got from the bartender.

Instead, you got a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, the robot placed the glass below the counter without braking eye contact. “Are you sure?” he said without making a sound. A challenge.

A challenge that you accepted.

For the rest of your performance during any particular romantic part of the song you made sure to let your gaze glide to the bar and exchange look with it’s bartender. His expression had changed ever so slightly from the first time you caught him looking. Still mostly the same but now with a hint of danger mixed in.

You could feel the tension between the bar and the stage rise with each exchanged look, neither of you breaking eye contact during the few seconds you had.

It was the most exciting performance you had in a long while, but it had to come to an end. The night just started and you needed to save your voice for your continued performance later in the night.

Immediately you were surrounded and distracted by people once you started your brake. Even though you couldn’t see the bartender you were pretty sure he saw you. Shortly after you began your brake a waiter came up to you, on a silver platter sat a single beautiful decorated crystal glass. The glass is short and wide like a whisky glass.

A rich orange liquid filled the short glass to a perfect half. When you asked the waiter who sent you the drink he simply said “It’s on the house.” You had ever the slightest hunch from whom it came. When you sipped from the glass the taste of honey sweet and yet smoky whisky filled your mouth, followed by a fruity aftertaste.

You couldn’t help the little that spread on your lips.  

Later in the evening, your performance continued. But this time it was not the golden robot tending to the bar but his blue counterpart. A little childish part of you wanted to make the two bartenders jealous of each other, make them vie for your attention.

While resting the owner had told you more about the robots, how highly advanced they were, how they are unique and that there is no second pair like them, how they work together like a well-oiled machine. “Almost like twins,” he said.

‘Twins’

Maybe you can cause a little bit of a sibling rivalry then.

Nothing too bad, just a little bit of fun.

You didn’t even need to get the robot's attention, when you let your gaze wander to the bar he was already giving it all to you. You went through the whole routine again, you smile at the bartender during a romantic part of the song, he raises one eyebrow in a challenge and you accept.     

And just like his counterpart, he did not break eye contact as the few seconds you had each song ticked by.

This went on for a few songs until his counterpart returned. When you looked back to the bar you saw the two of them talking, the blue one facing away from you and the other blocked by his counterpart. They looked neither irate or iterated, rather they looked natural at least from what you could tell during those few seconds before you returned your gaze to the guest. 

Oh, too bad.

Maybe they figured out what you trying to do and decided to ignore you then. You couldn’t really blame them, even if you did. A fun challenge ended because you wanted some excitement in your life.

When next you returned your gaze to the bar you where meet not by one but two pairs of glowing eyes, both pairs half lidded accompanied by lazy smiles. The two robots have banded together.

Two robots band together against you in order to win this challenge, that is known only to you three. They might have been at a numbers advantage, but if they thought that you were going to let them win they were in the wrong. You were not going to back out just because it got more exciting. 

And so this challenge went on for the rest of the evening and into the night, unbeknownst to the other guests in the large room. 

By the time your performance ended it was well into the night, the sun was long gone and the moon took its place in the sky.

And just like always the moment you step off the stage you were surrounded by people eager to snag all your attention for themselves. You gave them your attention, but not all. Just like on stage, you glanced towards the bar but there were no eyes meeting you.

The bartenders had returned to their duty, now that your performance was over the guests wanted their drinks. Both animatronics hands move at impossible speed around the bar, you were surprised they didn’t knock anything over at the speed at which they were moving.

Your challengers are distracted by their duty so you allowed yourself the be distracted as well.

Not long after a different waiter came up to you, on the silver platter a tall wide decorated crystal glass. It almost looked like a whine glass but not quite, that moment you decided that you’d have to brush up on your glass etiquette. The liquid inside this glass was deep red, along the edge a ring of sugar.

Again as you asked who this is from the waiter said “It is on the house.”

You toke a sip and the sweet flavor of wine spread across your tongue along with a light taste of citrus from the ring around the glass.

That’s when you decided you have to come back and come back often.

And so you did.

Over the following months, you were at the bar at the very least once a month. Every time without fail, after you went on brake or finished your performance, a waiter would come up to you with a wonderfully decorated glass and the best-tasting drink inside of it.

Once, when your voice wasn’t the best to the point where it was hard to miss that you weren’t at your best, a waiter brought you a simple glass, inside was warm milk with honey when you asked who sent it the answer was “The bar.”

Months and months have past, and a good amount of change happened both in your career and in your relation ship with the bartenders.

Career-wise you have taken off. Now recognized and sought after outside the state you were busy going to new locations, meeting new people, meeting contemporaries, and singing your new songs.

You were outside the city more often and longer, but you made it a point to always drop by your bartenders.

Your bartenders, with whom you have not exchanged a single word since you first saw each other. The bartenders with whom your relationship has developed past a simple challenge.

The looks you exchange have not increased in length, which was nigh impossible while you stand on stage, but they have increased intensity.

Their looks are no longer love-struck but devouring. Every time they look at you they drink up your entire being, as if your existence and your existence alone keeps them alive. They now let their eyes wander across your form, you never see them doing it but you can feel their eyes on you.

As their eyes travel up and down your body, drinking it in. The way you move, the way your costume lays against your skin, the slightest of wrinkles in your clothing, the smallest of hairs it doesn’t matter. They absorb it all, like a flower after drought drinking up all the water it can get.

That night when you first noticed their eyes traveling you, you almost lost the challenge. 

When your gaze followed the path it took so many times before, you saw them. Sitting behind the bar counter, leaning on it as they rested their faces in their hands. They had no shame as they showered you with their affection, attention, adoration and anything else they could give you through their eyes alone.

You immediately felt your face heat up and the urge to hide your face but you caught yourself before you looked away. Your cheeks remained a soft shade of pink trough the rest of the night and your singing had a bit more pep in your step.

Not long after you reviled a new song that made big waves and that caused you to become more known. A song about the sun and the moon, how the singer basks in the sun's warm light, how the singer would follow the moon's beautiful light anywhere and never feel alone, how the singer oh so loves the celestial bodies and their wonderful light, how they wouldn’t know how to live without them.

You let the song spread before you visited your favorite bar again, you wanted to play with them before returning the favor of a warm face. And play with them you did. You teased, called members of the audience the sun and the moon, said how the song is devoted to all and everyone. You played up how this song is to remind of the things one easily takes for granted and that whole spiel.

In the corner of your eye you could see how the robots seemed to deflate with each word. It hurt, and a lot more than you expected but you had to do it so it would hit just as hard as their affection.

When the part came where the singer talks about their love for the sun and moon you let your gaze wander before firmly landing on the bartenders, you had not looked to them before this part of the song. You didn’t care to hide your smug smile on your face as you look at your dear bartenders.

And it worked, like a charm.

They went rigid as they listened to the words coming out of your mouth, completely and fully directed at them.

The cheeks of the robots started to glow a bright orange as some mechanism in their face began to overheat, small puffs of steam expelled from their joints as they tried to cool themselves. And just like you, they almost lost the challenge.

Those few seconds felt like hours, hours their eyes were glued onto you before you released them. From the corner of your eye you could see them fanning their face, desperately trying to cool the mechanism in their face and failing.

For the rest of your performance, their cheeks remained a soft warm orange.

And now, here you are.

Sitting in front of your vanity in your brand new apartment right above your favorite bar. The owner had gifted it to you as a thanks for visiting the bar so often and coincidentally bringing in more guests and therefore income.   

Said guests have started to slowly leave the bar below as it is about to close. You can hear the distant chatter of people through your open balcony door. After one more look at yourself in your vanity mirror, checking your makeup and hair to see if it is acceptable to leave your apartment in these conditions, you get up the close the balcony door.

The chatter has significantly lessened since the beginning of closing time. The few people outside must be the last stragglers.

The bar is now officially closed.

When you return to your vanity you catch yourself in the mirror again. Your simple dark blue dress pants reach slightly over your ankle. They blend well together with your black shoes, they are not your highest shoe when it comes to heel shoes but your favorite, they give you just a few inches more.

A light green poke dot poncho hangs from your shoulders, down to your thighs. It's loose and frilly, one of your favorites. It shows enough of your silhouette but not too much, even if that doesn’t really matter since you’ve worn very form-fitting costumes on stage before.

And yet again you contemplate your looks, you have been doing this for far too long. Changing outfits, makeup, hairstyles and changing the outfit again.

You never have trouble picking an outfit for performances before. So why is it that you are struggling now to pick an outfit, your not even preparing for a performance.

You just want to finally actually meet your bartenders.

You have been exchanging looks with them for months, basically flirted with each other back and forth. Hell, you have even confessed each other's love for one another. You wrote an entire song to do it.

So why are you so nerves.

You look at yourself in the mirror for many moments and as the doubts about your clothing start to make their way back in your head and gnawing at your confidence, you all but run out the door. If you change again you’ll never meet the two.

They are already head over heels for you and so are you.

You make your way down the stairs. The staircase is illuminated by small decorative lamps along the walls, their colored glass shades bath the space in a warm yellow. With a rhythmic tack tack tack of your heals you make your way down the stairs.

Once you’re at the bottom you stand in the back hallways of the bar. No simple guest is allowed back here and yet the hallways are equally as decorated as the main floor. You haven’t had time to familiarize yourself with the all corridors, but you know the way to the stage entrance.

The path is well light and as you step on to the backstage, slowly you pass the curtain that decorates the side of the stage, the light just above welcomes you as always. Your heart is beating like insane in your chest and you have to take a couple of deep breaths to calm before you fully step out onto the stage.

The view of this usably packed place, now completely empty is more than a bit strange but that is not what you focus on. You focus on the bar and its lack of attendants. The bar sits completely empty, there is not a single metallic shine of robotic limbs to be seen. To say your heart drops would be an understatement.

Did you miss them, they should be here, they are always behind the bar. Do they just leave once the bar is closed.

Where are they.

As fear begins to pluck at your heartstrings, what if you don’t meet them now, will you ever actually meet them. Are the three of you cursed to only look at each other.

Suddenly a muffled noise from somewhere even further behind the bar gets your attention. You walk to the very edge of the stage and lean over the edge to listen for that muffled noise again.

It sounds like a conversation. And just when you think that it might be them, you see a flash of blue pass by a doorway in the bar’s wall that you didn’t even notice was there. All these months you look at the bar and nerve noticed that it has a backroom, well you were more so looking at the bartenders. But that doesn’t matter now, they are still here, you didn’t miss them.

Immediately your mood brightens by the power of the sun. You hop of the stage as quietly as possible and tiptoe your way to the bar counter. Easier said than done thanks to your heals. 

You are full of energy and nerves, your heart is doing leaps in your chest. You are as giddy as a kid whose dad is taking them to the toys shop to pick out a new toy.

In an attempt to stop the giggle building in your throat you bite your tongue. However that doesn’t stop the stupid smile on your face from spreading.

In on swift and quite motion you sit yourself on one of the bar chairs. You remain unnoticed. On top of the bar counter are two little bras bells, one with details painted in yellow and the other in blue. You have a hunch for what these bells are for.

Past the door, the conversation between the unknowing animatronics continues. You take one deep breath, then you ring both bells at once with a gentle tap of your finger. The sound the bells make is beautiful and light, but your trained ear can hear that one of the bells has a bit more reverb than the other.

The conversation comes to a stop and hear what you think is a synthetic sigh. Then out from the door steps one of your dear bartenders. His rays catch the light from above and give him the appearance of a glowing crown. His wonderful blue eyes don’t meet yours as he looks down to his hands where he works on putting his red half-glove back on his exposed hand.

His had is a wonderful shining chrome, the tips of his fingers are a brilliant yellow.

When he speaks his voice is butter-smooth and honey-sweet when he talks. “The bar is closed for tonight.” He sounds exhausted, like he had to have this conversation often. “I’ll have to ask you to leave-“

He finally looks up and meets your eyes, immediately freezing mid-step. He looks at you wide-eyed, surprised to see you of all people here.

“Oh, if you don’t want me here I can leave again.” You say as you turn on the chair as if to get up. “Ah- No. Stay.” The animatronic blurts out as he steps closer to the counter, one ungloved hand stretch out as if to stop you from leaving.

You lean back on the counter and smile at the sunbot, resting your head on the palm of your hand. “I’ll stay then.”

“Yes stay here.” The animatronic says quietly, sweetly, as he moves even closer. He drinks in your very being like he did so many times before, only closer now.

Your face warms up, about to catch fire. Already you can tell, that if he speaks even more sweetly to you, this will be a lethal encounter.

At least you know the names of your demise, after all the bar owner proudly told you their names during your very first performance.

From behind your Sun his counterpart emerges, his nightcap lazily resting on his shoulder, he is also not wearing his half gloves. Just like his counterpart, his hands are a shining chrome and his fingertips are a deep blue.

“Sun, what’s going on?”

You just about die. His voice is nothing short of heavenly. Deep and lush, simply beautiful. You can feel the vibration of his voice down your spine.

The lunar bot meets your eyes and visibly brightens. “Oh~.” You are deceased. “Finally decided to visit us~.” The animatronic says with a grin, showing his sharp teeth. He steps around his counterpart and stands next to him.

“Oh, you know. I had nothing else to do.” You lean forward, closer to them and fold your fingers together before resting your head on them. Both robots lean forward as well, closing the distance between you even more.

“Plus, I thought things were getting a bit boring, so I thought we make it a bit more exiting.” The smile that spreads across your face is smug.

Both bots raise their eyebrows, just like they did the first time. “More exciting? And how might we do that.” The golden bot asks.

Without saying a word you free your hand and reach for the sun bots face. His gaze follows your hand. Gently and slowly you reach under the bots chin and lift it, from where he was looking down at your hand, to look at you.

“Oh, nothing too big.” You say sweetly.

His internal workings kick into overdrive, the wiring inside his chest becomes louder, puffs of steam seep through his suit and the metal of his cheeks becomes a hot orange. The rays around his face fold back against his head and he stammers something before he wraps his hand around yours and removes it from his face as it is getting to hot.

However, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

Next to him, Moon lets out a dark chuckle and it’s your turn to melt.

“Playing the jealousy game again?” The bot accuses you amused. “It was worth a try. Don’t you think?” You retort playfully.

He chuckles again. His gaze lands on Sun who has slightly recovered from your flirt, now he examines your hand with a loving fascination. You follow Moon's gaze and watch Sun as he gently turns over your hand.

It is only then that you realize how much bigger Sun's hand is compared to yours, his hand completely engulfs your with ease. A few seconds later you realize how much bigger they are in general. Sitting at a bar with a human bartender, you see eye to eye but with these two you have to crane your neck to look them in the eye, even if they are already hunched over.

So lost in your realization, you barely notice the hand that is coming towards your face. Blue fingertips gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before tracing your skin and cupping your face.

You can't help but lean into the cool chrome hand and let out a small sigh. You relax as a cool thump softly draws circles on your cheek and yellow-tipped fingers work their way up your arm.

And there you remain for longer, with your dear bartenders, no longer confined to look at you, but now able to touch you just as gently as they looked at you.   

[sim-patelle]

Francis Mosses headcanons

sfw, nsfw mentioned ¬> MDNI

neutral!reader, it's really sweet, the tired guy, from the game "That's not my neighbor", MILKMAN

Artist from the fanart : @__kozuu on X(Twitter)

Looks

His hands + fingers are long and slim, a little bit brighter skin tone than his usual skin (yk cus cold)

His knuckles are a bit raw, just a little bit

Has cold hands definitely

Height between 5'10 and 6'2

Definitely is slim, but a little defined six pack

Not that wide shoulders, more like average

Had Scoliosis as a kid

A bit longer arms

Always looks kind of pale because he's tired all the time

Has defined cheekbones and jawline

clothes & jewelry

Mostly wears straight black jeans or trousers

He has black cardigans

He literally doesn't know any other color to wear except white, black, Grey and grey-blue

He needs clothing education from you

Only has a slim silver ring on his right middle finger as jewlery

But also wears a watch with him, just not on his wrist but in the pocket of his jeans

Anything pt. 1

Definitely listens to true crime podcasts (how ironic haha)

But when music is on his ears, it's mostly Falco, Joy Division, Taco and The Police

Still kind of Lana del Rey coded

I'd say he has a big brother who had asked him for money several times, but Francis got tired of it

Regrets his job, or at least wants to change his occupation

If he reads he has extra glasses for it, otherwise his eyes will burn

Reads mostly magazines about architecture and daily news

He definitely is a person that reads the newspapers

Physical activity

Challenge him to a fight and he'd win easily because even though he's slim, he surely has strength in his legs and arms

Flexible as hell

Can play basketball, but you need to build up endurance with him

Took some surfboard lessons in the past, but never surely can ride a wave in perfection

Today he mostly is busy with his job and chores, that he doesn't do any sports anymore

Appartment

Messy, his appartment is quite dirty, but still okay to look at

But definetly don't go into the kitchen

He only washes the dishes once in a week

Please show this man some color, his appartment is only decorated with white and black things

The plants he has are dried out, even the cacti

But Francis's bathroom is really clean

Like really clean

If you would enter the bathroom with shoes, he'd literally throw you out

He only once all 3 months has the urge to really clean his appartment

relationships

Had gone through a divorce in his mid 20's

Since then he never really trusted anyone, except you

You finally showed him how acception feels

He's grateful to have you

And he shows it by gift giving and acts of service

Since you are there, he finally tries to get his life together

Don't expect to get many words of affirmation, because you know he's an introvert

He loves to listen to you

He'd lean on the palm of his hand with his head and slightly smiles as he listens to you yapping

Then out of nowhere, he'd say how much he loves you

When you both go to sleep, he is on the side of the wall, with his back on it

He'd gently wrap his arms around you from behind, that you back is on his stomach

It's beautiful to sleep like that, when you're the little spoon

Often kisses your hand and scalp, everytime when he greets you

His hand would look so beautiful on your forearm, covering it almost fully

Nsfw ¬> MDNI

You know what those fingers could do..

And not only his fingers

Gentle Dom and Switch

Loves to see you over him as you sit down on his dick, his slim arms holding onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed

He's a hickey guy, but not like an owner thing, he doesn't really like to 'own' you, you are an individual and he loves how independent you are

He definitely loves when his eyes are covered with a blindfold when you take charge

he would also be the type who would start to whimper slightly when you put your hand over his mouth, when he's close to releasing

And when you do, god he comes so much

He's not really someone noisy, but he knows that you like it, so you hear his heavy breaths all the time and sometimes little grunts, and as mentioned the little whimpers

You always have your hands intertwined, he just loves to press your hands

It's also a safe-word thing between you two

accidently called you "mommy" one time

Mostly would say pet names like "honey", "my little one", "darling"

When you press his hand three times fast in a row, he knows to slow down or stop if you want it

It's really important for him to know you're alright

Would try out anything you want to try out with him and he'd be honest with you when he likes it or not

Is proud of you when you take his length all in you

He mostly would fuck you in the appartment, mostly on the couch or bed

But if the kitchen is clean, then definitely there, 100%

Would say things like: "I know you like that", "show me a little more honey", "you are so beautiful", "take it a bit more", "I'll be so good to you"

Anything pt. 2

Doesn't really drink Limonade or any other drink like that

Just give him water and he'll be fine

But istg don't give him milk, he'd freak out because he can't see it anymore

He'd fall asleep first when you wanna watch a series with him, you know why

Francis finally looks relaxed when he falls asleep next to you, his head leaning onto your shoulder or head

You have so many pictures of him sleeping

Francis always buys groceries when they're reduced

Drank too much energy drinks that they don't even help him anymore

When you once gave him a rose, he literally couldn't keep it together and you bet you saw a little tear in his eyes

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and didn't let you go for 10 minutes

He is just so happy to have you

And you are happy to be someone so special to him, that he got a picture from you next to his bed

[unknowntoyou2205]

Fear turns into confession (2/4)

Info: Y/n joins intelligence on a case, leaving Jay distracted from his job.

Requested by @maybankangel

Series masterlist

Two weeks had passed since y/n had returned from the army. Jay and her had become close, spending many evenings hanging out, with Mouse joining them sometimes. Erin still felt bitter about y/n and her bitterness had only grown with how much time her boyfriend was spending with the returned soldier. It didn't help that everyone in intelligence had grown to like her, leading to her often hanging out in the district. It wasn't unusual for y/n to turn up with lunch for the team, but Erin refused to like the girl. And y/n didn't seem that bothered by Erin's noticeable attitude towards her, instead opting to be the bigger person, opting to treat the woman her friend loved as a friend. The two didn't seem to be making any progress of becoming friends, but y/n accepted that, choosing to get along with Erin for the sake of Jay, and she hoped Erin felt the same way.

----------------------------------

Jay leaned against his desk as he talked to Erin, awaiting for the new case Voight was about to announce to them. There was word about kidnappings of women, where they were never found after they were taken. Six women were currently taken, and Voight was about to announce the plan of action. The team was blind as opposed to what it was, but they knew whatever it was they had to act fast, before things got out of hand.

The room went silent as Voight walked out of his office towards the middle of the room with pictures in his hands. Attaching them onto the board in front of him, he turned to face his team, and began to explain what was happening.

"Alright, here are the six women who have been taken in the past two weeks, each of them were seen in the local night club and that was their last sighting, meaning that the kidnapper is likely to be targeting that area. The victims were last seen getting into a taxi but they aren't traceable. Each plate comes up as legit taxi drivers, and when asked they say they weren't working the night the women were taken nd that they didn't even know there car was taken as it's in the same place as they had left it." Voight explained. "This guy is smart. He either managed to get the keys of these cars, take them and than return them when he's finished so as not to be caught quicker, or the cars are left unlocked and he wires it to turn on before leaving it as it was." Erin commented. "Well it worked, no one would know what happened apart from families becoming worried for their daughters." Kevin stated. "As you can see each girl here is in their 20's, has short h/c hair and e/c eyes meaning he has a type. So we need to catch him out before the next kidnapping." Voight stating, looking around as he finished explaining. "He seems to pick busy hours, when there are crowds around, hoping not to attract attention on him. College is out which means events are rolling in." Burgess stated. "When's the next event?" Jay asked. "Tonight there is karaoke night. He's bound to be there." Mouse spoke up, looking up from his computer. "Than we go there tonight. Hope to catch this son of a bastard." Voight spoke before The buzzer buzzed and the gate was heard opening.

Everyone's attention turned to the stairs as footsteps were heard, and each smiled slightly when they seen the woman walking up them. Y/n smiled softly as she held up a takeaway bag, having decided to bring Chinese for intelligence when Voight had asked her to come. She knew briefly of the case and knew that it would likely be a late one, so decided to bring some dinner for them when Voight had contacted her.

"Hey Y/n, what you doing here?" Adam asked, stretching over his desk so he could see her better. "Voight called, decided to bring dinner for everyone, sounds like a late night." Y/n replied, allowing Kevin to take the bags from her before moving to sit on Jay's chair, the owner of said chair craning around to smile at her in greeting.

Erin watched the two, unimpressed. She narrowed her eyes as Jay moved away from her side and behind his desk to hug y/n, y/n happily standing up to accept the hug. Wanting to drag her boyfriends attention away from the soldier, she started questioning Hank on their plans.

"So how are we going to catch him in the act? Neither me or Kim fit the description of the girls he's targeting." Erin asked, causing y/n to glance at Voight. "But y/n does." Voight pointed at said girl, causing everyone's attention to turn to her. "You can't be serious." Jay spoke out quickly, angered by the thought of his friend becoming a target. "Y/n fits what our guy is going for, she looks like a college student..." "Not sure how I feel about that comment." y/n spoke softly causing Kevin and Mouse to hid a grin. "She's a perfect match." Voight finished, gesturing to y/n. "I don't agree with this." Jay commented. "Jay stop, I've done more dangerous things than this." Y/n spoke firmly, "Besides I've already agreed." "You what?" Jay eyed her in frustration. "Jay, stop, she'll be fine. She's done more dangerous things than this." Erin stated, frowning at Jay for the way he was acting.

Jay only watched as y/n moved to Voight, allowing him to explain more in depth of what she was to do. He watched as she nodded along with his boss before they walked to Mouse where Hank told him to get y/n wired up.

"Jay, what you so worried about, she's fought worse." Adam spoke as he and Kim walked up to Jay and Erin. "She's on leave with an injury, and she's my friend, of course I'm worried." Jay explained as if it was the most obvious thing. "We'll be outside ready to interfere as needed. Once he goes for you let him take you, we'll be ready and waiting outside." Hank finished saying to y/n as Mouse helped wire her up. "How do we know if this is going to work?" Jay asked aloud. "We don't, but we have to try." Y/n stated, her brain going into autopilot.

---------------------------

Like previous missions and tasks, y/n was nervous, but she knew that the reason or doing this was to help save other girls and to prevent it from happening again. Her mind was on neutral, and she eyes a gentleman across the bar from her as she swirled her drink. He had been watching her all night, and y/n was sure that this man was the one Intelligence was looking for. Catching his eye, y/n smiled slyly before turning to talk to the barman in front of her.

“Could I get another please?” She asked, before downing the last of her drink. “I’ll get this.” The guy from across the bar suddenly appeared beside her. “That’s very kind of you.” Y/n smiled, batting her eyelashes a little. “It’s the least I can do for a pretty girl like yourself.” The guy spoke, causing y/n to look down as she blushed.

Outside in a van, Jay could only scowl as he heard the conversation between y/n and the guy. Erin sat beside him, and rolled her eyes at the look on her boyfriends face. He had done nothing but watch y/n before she went in, fussing over her and asking her repeatedly to change her mind. Halstead was worried about the girl, and that didn’t sit right with Erin.

“What do you say we head out of here, maybe someplace quiet.” The guy was heard over the ear piece, and the team sat up straight. “Y/n, go with him, but act surprised.” Voight coached the girl over the speaker, and Jay glared at his boss. “We just met, and you want me to leave with you.” Y/n feigned shock, turning her vision away from the guy in front of her. “Come on, you can trust me.” The guy laughed lightly, trying to encourage her. “I just don’t know if I should.” Y/n said unsure, trying to egg the guy on as he laughed before moving closer to her. “I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” The guy threatened, leaning towards y/n so only she could hear. Y/n gasped, showing fear. “Come with me willingly and I won’t hurt you. Struggle, and it will end badly for you.” The guy spoke. “Ok.” Y/n gulped, voice shaking.

“We got him.” Voight stated, smirking at the guys confession. “Than let’s go.” Jay spoke, not liking the idea of someone’s hands being on his friends. “Jay, wait.” Erin spoke. “We take this easy or it could all go wrong.” She stated. “Kevin & Burgess, take the left, Erin & Adam go right, Halstead, your with me.” Voight commanded to his team as they got ready to move out.

Y/n got off her stool and allowed the guy in front to take her arm as they exited the night club. Shivering under the cold air hitting her skin, y/n looked to the left as cars were heard skidding in the distance. The guys grip hardened more as he seen Intelligence step out of their cars.

“Shit cops.” He cursed. “Chicago PD, let her go.” Voight shouted. “Keep moving, don’t stop.” The guy commanded, pushing the barrel of his gun into y/n’s back.

Y/n tripped over her feet as the guy forced her to move. Her back arched as she felt the barrel. Knowing this could turn nasty, she choose to follow the guys commands. This was part of the plan but that didn’t mean the guy could turn.

Jay took off after y/n, not listening as Hank shouted at him to get in. He choose to keep running, and turned the corner he say y/n go, his mind only on y/n. He heard the cars rushing behind him, but his mouth tightened as she seen y/n being forced into a car.

“Chicago PD, stop a*****e.” Jay shouted, causing y/n to look back at him. “Help, help.” Y/n shouted, playing the act till she was pushed into the car, her head hitting the door, knocking her unconscious.

The guy fired at Jay, causing him to duck down, taking out his own gun to fire back. Another shot was heard from the passengers side of the car, diverting Jays attention as the guy got into the car. Hearing the car engine, Jay cursed and started shooting at the car, before dropping down as a bullet nicked his arm. He turned to look over his shoulder as he heard cars stopping behind him

“Jay, are you okay.” Erin shouted out, running to her boyfriend as the car in front of them drove off. “I’m fine.” Jay brushed Erin away from him, standing up to watch as the car turned a corner. “This was part of the plan.” Burgess nodded her head, trying to convince herself and Jay that all would be okay. “Yeah, yeah, sure.” Jay sighed, allowing Erin to look at his wound. “Let’s head back to intelligence, see what mouse has heard.” Voight spoke up. “Come on, let’s get you to med.” Erin stated, holding Jays arm as he got off the ground.

Jay just nodded, his mind on y/n.

[scorpioriesling]

Enchanted

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Pairing(s): Rhysand x reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Every birthday girl makes a wish... yours has been the same for years. One you began to doubt would ever come true; but what happens when it does?

SR’s Note: I am honestly giggling and kicking my feet over this one, and lately Rhys hasn't even been my favorite... I don't care. I like how this turned out. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift, of course. Enjoy (:

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Everything about the final day of Autumn was as it usually was; the cool sun bathing the Velaris cobblestone in light, the crisp breeze ruffling your hair, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. Even the townsfolk presented the same familiar faces you’d seen nearly every day now on your way to the public library.

Today was a treat; the day before your birthday, of course. The first day of the Winter season would mark the day of your birth, and usually you’d spend the day before spoiling yourself as you’d usually end up having to work on said birthday. This year, it was no different.

That is, before two large Illyrian warriors donning seven gleaming siphons each landed right in the middle of the square, their enormous bat wings spread wide. The townspeople, as well as yourself, whirled in shock at the sight. After straightening, the taller one (Cassian? You thought?) cleared his throat.

“Greetings, Velaris,” he said, voice echoing down every corridor and alleyway around you. Every wide-eyed fae stared back in awe as he looked from person to person.

“As you know, the High Lord will be having his annual Winter Ball tomorrow evening,” he continued. You’d known; it was an annual tradition. One you’d always ended up working as the bakery your parents owned supplied the delicacies for the event.

“…andddd this year, the High Lord has made it very clear that the celebration is to be extended.” He coughs. Gasps and murmurs begin around you, and you glance side to side as chatter begins.

“The ballroom cannot accommodate all of Velaris; so only a select few will be receiving invitations.” The spymaster calmly cuts in, and the chattering crowd around you stops. All eyes return to the pair in the middle of the street.

“The festivities are to be celebrated here in the city, though, should you not attend the ball,” Cassian fumbles. His brother raises his eyebrows, releasing a breath and gazing at the crowd once more.

“If you’re to be invited; you should expect to receive an invitation in your mailbox by this afternoon.”

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You practically jumped on the mail man when he approached your drive, scaring him half to death as his letters tumbled from his hands.

“I’m so sorry! I’m, um… just, really hoping something came for me today.” You laugh sheepishly as he thrusts a pile of letters into your hands.

“Yeah, you and every other female in Velaris.” He continues on his route with a hmmph, and you begin anxiously thumbing through the letters.

You almost trip when you finally make it back into your small flat, sitting at the kitchen table. Your hand shakes as you get to the last envelope in the pile, only one elegant word written across the front of it.

Y/N.

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“I don’t know if that’s the right… I don’t know, color?” Your best friend eyes you in the mirror, and you twist to one side, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Maybe not. I don’t know, it’s just not quite… right.” She says, the statement only a repetition of how your morning’s been going. You’ve spent the entire morning trying to find a gown for the ball tonight, but every single one you’ve tried just isn’t quite… the one.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and your friend / shop owner flits toward a wall of dresses, brushing through them once more.

“I feel like I’ve tried on a million,” you say. She returns just a moment later, a lovely steel silver gown in hand. You raise your brows at her.

“Yes, but, it’d be dress one million and one that might catch the High Lord’s attention.” You can’t help but blush, turning from her. It was no secret you found the High Lord of the Night Court quite intriguing; Gods, half of Prythian did.

She tsked at you and shooed you towards the dressing chamber, only for you to reappear a moment later in the gown. She didn’t hide back the gasp, or stunned expression on her face as you approached the mirror to look yourself.

“Oh come now, it can’t be…” But, it was. Seeing it in the reflection, you understood her reaction a little more. You were breathtaking; this one. It had to be this one.

You spend a good few minutes twirling, admiring the gown hugging you in all the right places. You finally glance down at the price tag, and your heart sinks. It was way too expensive.

“I don’t think I can…” You say. Your friend shakes her head, leading you back to the dressing room to change.

“Nonsense.” She says. You stare at her, a blank expression on your face.

“I can’t afford it.” You say. She only winks at you before shutting the chamber curtain, allowing you privacy.

“Consider it a birthday gift!”

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You'd never been to one of these before; not coming from a wealthy family, or even being High Fae yourself, there was never any reason to attend such an event held by Night Court royalty.

Yet, here you stood. In front of the polished black gate, separating you from the awaiting festivities inside.

"Uhh.. miss?" You turn, to see another guest had silently approached at your side. "Are you going in?"

You nod. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry if I held you up-" He shakes his head, a small smile offerred to you as the gates open and he steps beyond. He looks over his shoulder to you.

"No worries... but, I think it's beginning soon?" You hear the groaning of the iron bars and quickly step inside, keeping in step with this new aquiantence. You politely converse until you've reached the main building, and females in lovely gowns pass by you. You nervously look around; maybe you should've prepared better for this.

"I'll see you around," with a small wave, your company stalks off toward a group of males he seems to know. You sigh, taking in the beauty around you. The gleaming faelights, all of the attendees meandering around you, the scent of jasmine in the air-

"I personally want to thank you all for your attendance tonight," you hear, and the room is instantly filled with silence. All eyes are peering toward the front of the room, and the crowd shuffles together to hear the speaker more clearly. You try and get a good look, but you can't really see over everyone's heads.

"I haven't had one of these events in a while where I get to invite our court's friends to join us, and as this marks the first night of Winter," the voice drawls. It sounds lovely, as though it was coming from a cello - deep and smooth. Not like the sounds from Azriel or Cassian, but this one was much different.

"...we are very happy you're all here. So, let the dancing commence!" And with that, the crowd is in a frenzy, chattering and partnering off for the first dance of the evening. Your cheeks heat in embarassment as you realize you have no one to dance with, and you recede towards the stone wall to hide in the shadows for this one. You feel a light hand on your elbow, and you whirl around to come face-to-face with the kind male from earlier.

"I don't have a partner either..." He says, his cheeks flushing rosey-pink. You give him a soft smile, your embarassment fading with every passing second.

"I'd love to dance with you." You slide your hand into his and pull him to the middle of the crowd, just as the music begins. His hand rests on your lower back, the cold metal ring on his finger sending a chill up your spine. You suck in a breath as he pulls you closer to his chest.

"Is this... alright?" He asks. You nod, resting your free hand on his shoulder. Now that you're close to him, you get a better view of his face; his sharp jaw, auburn freckles dusting over his nose. His sultry amber eyes that match the flaming locks upon his head; he truly is beautiful.

But not the reason you came tonight.

He engages in polite conversation as you continue the waltz, asking you about yourself, laughing and making light jokes with you inbetween the spinning and dipping as the music intensifies. You laugh with him, appreciating him more and more by the minute. When he's turned you around, his back to the dias at the head of the room, you swear you meet those violet eyes, staring right back at you. Maybe you're just thinking wishfully, maybe... maybe he is just looking at everyone, but he looked irritated, besides the sweet sentiment he'd made before.

You have to look away, your partner realizing you're staring.

"Is, everything okay?" He politely asks you. You nod, reassuring him everything was. But it wasn't. You were living in this moment; the music, the liveliness of the room, the way you were pushed so close with this male's hand on your waist-

But it still wasn't who you wanted.

You wanted him.

His hands on you. Your body against him. His eyes looking into yours.

You felt like a fool for thinking that coming here would change anything for you.

"I, uhm," your partner fumbles for words to distract you. "I didn't catch your name?" He asks. You meet his gaze, smiling again at him. You knew the High Lord wouldn't need or want you, so you may as well make the most of your night while it lasts.

"Y/N," you reply. He grins.

"What a lovely name," he tucks a flyaway tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes catching when it is exposed. He immediately sees it is rounded; and shame courses through you again as you know he is High Fae.

He clears his throat. "What a beautiful name," he reiterates. "...for a beautiful girl." You can't help but blush at his words, this male is laying the flirting on you thick. Doing quite well at that, too.

"Why thank you," you say, voice feeling small. You didn't register that the song had already changed, your bodies abseltmindedly falling into rhythm as you continue to sway with the music.

"I should probably relieve you from me," he says, dipping his head and huffing a small smirk. "Had I known who you were, I would have let you dance with someone else. I'm sure Rhys will have my ass for this anyway," he concludes. You furrow a brow, as the song engages in the final chorus.

"Whatever do you mean?" You ask. He opens his mouth to answer, but clapping erupts and conversations get too loud around you. What was he even talking about? You'd never met the High Lord, not officially, anyway. Maybe in passing, but there was nothing there.

Suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, his hand on your back feels like fire and you feel like you are sweating. You could pass out, you just needed a minute to breathe and get out of this crowded room.

"I have to um," you shout, over the loud conversing around you. "I need a breath of air!" You say. He nods, and pulls you close, hands still holding yours.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He politely asks. You lean back, meeting his eyes and shake your head.

"I'll be fine!" You say loudly. He nods, and you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'll find you later?" You say, and he grins at you. What a cutie.

You search for an exit, clammy hands brushing the sides of your skirts. You find an open doorway, and travel down a side hall that leads to an unmarked door. Chest tight, you open it -- revealing the most wonderful sight you've ever seen.

You step out onto the stone terrace, walking all the way to the railed edge to get the best view. You let out a gasp; you can see all of Velaris from here. Soft music echoes from beyond, and you watch as a single shooting star stretches across the sky.

"This is, my favorite place to see the whole city too." You turn abruptly, not realizing someone had followed you. You stare in shock as Rhysand leans against the open doorway, arms folded, and one ankle crossed over the other. You immediately get embarassed again, remembering this is his building and his terrace and you were out here without permission-

"No need to worry, darling." He strides over to you, and you feel a tiny tickling inside your head. Your fingers brush your temple on instinct, and you remember that he could in fact see what you were thinking.

"Enjoying the ball?" He asks, his silky tenor causing your attempt to clear your mind to fail. You huff, turning back to the city beyond. He puts his hands on the balcony railing next to you, one hand nearly brushing yours.

"Oh! Um... yes. Yes I have been." Your mind flashes to the dances you'd shared with the readhead, how he held you, and how you'd wished it was Rhys the whole time...

Clear your mind, Cauldron! He could easily see what you were thinking.

"That's... great." His sudden clipped tone had you side-eyeing him. The night seemed to radiate off of him, the onyx crown atop his head gleaming in the moonlight. He was definately intimidating, but you remembered what your new friend said. Did you even catch his name? No. You were too focused on the High Lord, though this other man was nothing but nice to you.

Cauldron, boil you.

"Can I ask you something?" You say. He angles his head to you, a small smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.

"You'd like to know why I asked you here tonight?" He answers. You gape at him, and he chuckles, the sound like soft rain outside an open window.

"How did you-" You begin, and he turns to you, a hand tracing his knucles down the side of your face. You flush at the contact, as this was something you'd only ever hope for in a dream.

"This... is something we can work on later." He looks at the top of your head, the idea of mind shielding grazing your brain.

Has he been inside your head this whole time?

You almost feel violated; if it was anyone but him, you'd tell them to leave you be. But... you couldn't. He was finally here, with you -- but, you can't help from a little bit of your attitude peeking through.

"If you wanted me here so damn bad, whatever the reason may be," you start, pulling back an inch from his touch. His brows raise in amusement. "Why were you pouting about in there? I didn't even see you dance once." You finish. His gaze softens, and his free hand brushes yours on the railing. The hand that once grazed your cheek is now gliding down your arm, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.

"The partner I wanted was already taken." He answers lowly. You don't miss the way his eyes darken a bit, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard to try and stop from freaking out and dissolving into a puddle right then and there.

"Well..." You begin, taking one step closer to him. The soft scent of sea salt and nectarines graces your nose -- of course, one of your favorites. His gaze stays locked on you, drinking in every inch of you with his eyes.

"I'm not now." You say, as confidently as you can muster. His lips twist, trying to supress the huge smile he eventually allows to take over his face. You can't help but smile back; his gorgeous features only more enticing up close. His hand slips around the curve of your waist, pulling you in closer. Your breath catches, as his other hand guides your idle ones to his neck.

"I've waited much too long for this," he says. You are sure you look like a tomato; there was no way he was fawning over you like this. The way you'd done, every night in your room; every day in Velaris, constant reminders of him all over the city; every year when you'd use your bithday wish just to see him, just once -- and there he would be, waltzing into your parents shop before the ball as if he wasn't reducing you to mush each time.

"I'm not very good," he admits with a small laugh. You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you don't allow him enough time to read your mind before the words are spilling out-

"I don't need good. I need you." You take the lead, swaying to the distant music from the walls beyond and streets below, and he only follows. Its his turn to feel flattered, as his hands gently trail up and down your waist. You try your best to keep from shaking in excitement; but it isn't long before you see another star flying across the sky. He glances in your line of sight, grinning and letting one hand go of you. He takes the gleaming onyx crown off his head, replacing it atop yours, tucked behind the brained crown near the top.

You stare at him wide eyed as he pulls your body flush with his, leaning in to whisper, "I'm enchanted to finally meet you," as his soft lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. You can't help but let out a small chuckle, not knowing if you are going to cry or not. You could; you'd only wished for this very thing for years and years.

"You truly are a princess," he drawls on, fingers tracing your jaw lightly. His gaze flicks to the star trailing across the sky, and back to you once more. "One that still needs to make her birthday wish."

Your hands play with the soft hair near the nape of his neck, eyes loving the way he practically wills your mouth to his. It's like there is a thread, a rope connecting the two of you, and he is using his end to pull you closer, closer...

He finally kisses you, softly cupping your jaw as your hands slide down his chest. Pressed against him like this, that rope feels more like a threat tied so tight, golden aura coming from deep within you at the scene around you. He slowly pulls back, eyes searching yours for reassurance. You only reach up and swipe a tear away from his cheek, the new feeling connecting the two of you reassurance enough.

"I don't have one this year; it has already come true."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *