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mimicmimikyuwrites · 6 months ago

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Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: You can read part two here.

Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.

You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.

"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.

"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.

"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.

While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.

"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.

As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.

"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.

You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.

Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.

"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.

"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.

"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.

"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.

"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."

"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.

You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.

"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.

He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.

Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.

Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.

"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.

"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

"What? What are you—"

"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."

He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"

He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.

"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.

"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.

"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.

"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.

"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."

"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.

"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.

"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.

"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."

That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.

You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.

"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."

You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"

"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."

Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.

"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."

You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.

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cllightning81 · 10 months ago

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Panic - Part Four

Series Title : Younger Sister

Summary : Carlos is out ill and while Lando worries about him Ollie appears at your hotel room stressing because he now has to race

Pairing/s : Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader

Word Count : 2.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

It had been a couple of months since the British Grand Prix, and it was now the Hungary Grand Prix. Staying in a hotel room with Lando had become normal, and you stopped bothering about it because, actually, it was nice. Having someone to talk to at all times but also knew that quiet was a good thing. Not only that, but both you and Lando had the same energy levels, which meant there was always something chaotic going on in that room.

Lando had left a little early so that he could go to the gym before coming back to get you before finally going to the paddock so you were sat scrolling on social media waiting for Lando to get back when there was a knock on the door making you wander over to it as whoever was waiting on the other side kept knocking. Looking through the peephole, Ollie was standing on the other side, so obviously, you opened the door

“Ollie are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down for any visible injuries as he walked past you into the hotel room, obviously finding it extremely hard to stay still

“My parents' flight is delayed. I flew out with Ferrari cause I can but it’s delayed and I’m racing and there’s no one in the garage for me and I don’t know what to do cause its my first ever F1 race and I’ve only ever done practice and help” He rushed out and you looked at him taking everything in that he’d previously just flew at you

“Y/N say something” He whispered, rubbing his face as he paced the room

“Your parent’s flights are delayed, well that’s okay cause they’ll be here. Flights get delayed all the time. You race all the time without your parents there you qualified on pole yesterday” You rubbed his arm, looking up at him. Why did he have to be so tall? It made comforting him so much harder.

“Yeah but that’s F2 Y/N. This is F1” He whispered, and you looked up at him

“Wait what? You’re racing in Formula One?” You exclaimed, taking a step back as he nodded “Okay well today's practice and quali. Wait who’s out?” You asked, confused

“Carlos. Something about his appendix. He hadn’t been well all week” He explained, and you nodded

“I’ve never raced in his car, and I’ve never raced with his wheel, and I don’t know what to do Y/N” He whispered, and you wrapped your arms around him

“Well lucky for you, my brother just so happens to be a Formula One driver on the weekends” you joked, and he laughed. You smiled up at him.

“I’ll come stand in the Ferrari garage, Ollie. Please don’t worry about it. The more you worry about it, the more you stress, which leads to bad racing and crashes. Ollie, they have so many drivers they could have put you in that seat, but they picked you, which means they trust you, so you need to enjoy the fact that you’re racing in Formula One!” You smiled, and he nodded

“I’m racing in Formula One” He mumbled and you smiled watching him now enjoy the fact that he’s actually racing and he’s reached his dream even if it’s not the way he wanted to. Ollie hugged you back with a smile

“What’s going on here?” Lando’s voice came as you turned to look at him

“Ollie’s racing in Formula One” you cheered, bouncing over to Lando, who caught you very much used to the energy you have

“Hey, that's a great man. You’ll do great, just remember to breathe because I forgot to do that the first time” Lando chuckled, placing you back on the ground

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can get to the paddock” Lando walked into the bathroom, and you hugged Ollie again

“You should go get ready for the day, but if you want me there, then just give me a text, okay?” You smiled, and he nodded

“Thank you for that. I needed someone to rationalise my thoughts” You nodded, holding his hand

“Don’t worry about it. If you’ve not already had a shower today, then go take a nice cold one, drink a bottle of water, and remember to enjoy yourself” You smiled, and he nodded, walking over to the door. You followed behind him with a smile

“You’re great at the calming down thing” He smiled, and you chuckled

“I do my best” Ollie walked back to his hotel room as you sat on the bed on your phone, going back to waiting on Lando. When Lando finally walked out the bathroom dressed in his Mclaren uniform, you jumped over to him with a smile

“You’re so happy today? What have I missed?” He asked, confused

“Can’t I be happy?” You asked following him out of the hotel room

“You’re normally hyper, but you seem more hyper than normal” he shrugged

“Maybe I’m a little happy that Ollie is racing today” You shrugged

“You like him” He teased poking you in the side

“He’s just a friend” You shrugged

“We’re the same age it’s nice to hang out with someone my own age while following you about the world”

“Mhm whatever you say. I like him, by the way” He shrugged, pressing the button in the elevator, leaning against the bannister in the elevator as it moved

“I’m glad you like him” You rolled your eyes, stepping out the elevator and following him out to the Mclaren car awaiting his arrival. Oscar already sat inside, waiting for you both. Getting in the car, Lando forced you to sit in the middle of them, so with a huff, you complied.

“Y/N has a boyfriend” Lando hummed, wiggling his eyebrows

“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends” you whined, shoving him away

“Ohh who?” Oscar asked

“Ollie. He showed up at our room this morning” Lando hummed

“He showed up because his parents were in England, and Ferrari just called him up” You rolled your eyes

“Wait, who's not racing, by the way?” Lando asked

“Carlos. Something to do with his appendix” you shrugged, and Lando instantly pulled his phone out of his pocket, panicking.

“Oh forgot about your boyfriend” You rolled his eyes, and he ignored your comment as Oscar laughed.

Standing in the Ferrari garage felt wrong. Surrounded by red instead of papaya, but it was for Ollie, who was pacing about the place stressed before FP3. Everyone’s eyes were on him after the announcement that he was now driving. Ollie had taken to pacing three small steps slightly in front of you as he spoke to some members of the team.

Walking over to him gently wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek rested against his back he tensed up for a second before his hands rested on top of yours and he relaxed now standing in the one place as he spoke to the team member causing you to smile that he was no longer burning a hole in the floor.

You missed the cameras outside as you kept your arms around Ollie’s waist, but you certainly didn’t miss your phone exploding in your pocket. Charles smiled at you as he walked past back to his driver's room.

“Hey why don’t you go into the drivers room and relax Ollie” one of the trainers said, joining the small group as Ollie nodded, taking you to the drivers room with him. Sitting on the small beanbag, you smiled at him.

“You didn’t have to do that” He sat next to you, and you shrugged

“You were burning a hole in the floor, and I know that you don’t make enough to pay for that” you joked, and he chuckled.

“Thank you, though. I’m so stressed about today” You smiled softly, turning to him

“I’ll make a deal with you” you hummed, and he nodded

“Okay?” He frowned

“If you get P15 or above in Quali I’ll go on a date with you. If you get P10 or above in the actual race, then I’ll go on two” You hummed, and he turned to you

“Can I change that deal?” He asked, and you nodded slightly

“Depends on what you want to change it to” You hummed

“P15 or above in Quali a date tonight. P10 or above in the race and you become my girlfriend” You quickly turned to look at him

“What?” You asked, confused. It wasn’t that you didn’t find yourself attractive or other people didn't. It was just that you’d never had a proper boyfriend before. Just teenage boys who wanted to one up their friends in their relationships.

“Well obviously if I get that high, then I’ll ask you properly and take you on that second date, but obviously, if you don’t want to agree to my deal, then that’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable while you’re here making me feel like I’ve been racing in Formula one forever” He blurted going off on whatever he was saying with. Gently placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him back into the drivers room, he looked at you.

“Olls. Please take a deep breath with me. I’d love to agree to your deal. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was forcing you into anything and we all know that I’m not just with you for money or anything like that cause that’s what older brothers are for” You joked and he chuckled

“Well I guess I’ll be taking you on a couple of dates then” He hummed, and you chuckled

“Cocky much” you joked, and he smiled

“I’ll see you after FP3, right?” He asked, and you nodded

“Of course you will and after FP3. We’re going to get lunch together” You smiled, and he walked out of the drivers room after pressing a kiss to your head. Finally checking your phone just to see a billion texts.

Before you knew it, you were watching Quali, and it was the most stressful thing you’d ever watched. Not only was your older brother racing, but Ollie was doing his first ever F1 race and Quali. Ollie’s dad had arrived at the garage just as Ollie went out for Q1, so now he was standing next to you.

David was stressing more than Ollie was this morning. Ollie got slightly close to the wall just as the cameras turned into the Ferrari garage catching David's face as it happened although you were just as stressed except you had a lot more practice at hiding it after watching races with people from school. David, on the other hand, was new to close family members racing in formula one.

Ollie got himself through Q1 in P9 and into Q2. David walked over to Ollie’s car to say that he was here and to just focus on the race. You could see Oliver’s eyes as he pushed the visor on his helmet up. The stress that previously showed was no longer there. He looked like a kid in a sweet shop, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Q2 started, and David took his place standing at the back next to you. The fifteen minutes of Q2 was soon over and Ollie was unfortunately knocked out in P11 but he was a few hundredths of a second away from knocking Sir Lewis Hamilton out of qualifying that was something to be proud of.

Racing drivers had this thing where even when they drove exceptionally well they’d still beat themselves up even if there was nothing else they could have done and you knew by the look in Oliver’s eyes he was going to do exactly that except you now had practice and a deal you could cheer him up with.

You smiled, giving Ollie a hug as he walked over after he got out of the car. He was sweaty, but it made you happy to see the happiness on his face. Like seeing Lando doing something he loved.

“You did so well, Olls. You almost knocked Hamilton out. If you had another flying lap, you would have!” You exclaimed, and he smiled

“You should go along to Mclaren while I do post Quali interviews. I know Lando would love to have you there, and Max is here today isn’t he?” He asked, and you nodded

“The whole of Quadrant is here today. Something about Hungary being a good place for a new video? I don’t know. They tried to get me in it, but I refused” You chuckled, and he smiled

“Be ready for seven?” He asked, and you nodded

“You know where my room is” You walked along to the Mclaren garage with a smile hugging Max as you stood in hospitality with him and the rest of Quadrant. Ria smiled at you as everyone else was far too focused on Q3 that had just started.

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leo-muscle · 1 year ago

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Kings of the World: Caribbean Waves

Kai knew he was far above the rest. Born into money and power, he got everything he wanted, exactly when he wanted it. Women, cars, planes, food... all at the drop of a dime. He dressed in designer suits, which he constantly bragged about the price of. He wanted the whole world to bow to him, and worship the very ground he walked on.

This leads to Kai's 22nd birthday party, taking place in the Bahamas. He had invited five of his wealthiest friends, the only people he deemed worthy of associating with. They had spent the entire month on Kai's father's dime with women, watersports, booze, and dice, all leading up to one final drinking night on Kai's actual day of birth aboard his luxury yacht, moored to a private island. The party was too much: strippers dotted the decks, fireworks went off every half hour, loud music floated about, and poker chips poured like honey. Kai himself sat at the head table with his five rich friends.

"Here's to one more year of life!" Kai cheered, his voice slurring.

"Hear, hear!" His friends replied, and they all chugged down their liquor like it was water.

"Alright, guys, I've got the next round coming!" Kai shouted, as he dashed back to the bar... only something was amiss.

The scantily-dressed barwoman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, an absolute giant of an irishman stood behind the bar, dancing to the beat of the music. He wore no shirt, just a bowtie with a nametag reading "Dom," and short shorts, accentuating his enormous muscles. An easy smile sat on his face, accented by the enormous emerald earring in his right ear. Just by being in the room with the man, Kai felt a need to compete with him.

"Where's Chrissy?" Kai asked, a simmer of anger in his voice.

"Ach, she was feeling a tad ill, so she came to fetch me." The bartender replied in a soothing Irish accent. "Watcha looking for tonight?"

"Something powerful and special." Kai said. "You'd know a thing or two about that."

The bartender's smile twitched. "I think I got just the thing for a birthday boy like you. Little something from back home, you aught to enjoy it."

The bartender turned around, and started pouring a variety of liquors into a shaker, then dancing to mix it all up. Kai couldn't stop looking at his ass: while Kai was incredibly straight, he could easily tell that this man had a great, bouncy bubble butt. His pecs too were incredible, the girls should be all over him-- why weren't they?

The bartender brought the shaker right up to his enormous left pec, opened it up, and dumped something in it that Kai couldn't see. He then presented the drink into a tall tankard. It was a sparkling emerald green, unlike any drink Kai had seen before.

"What is this shit?" Kai groaned.

"Special recipe of mine. You'll learn to make it yourself, someday."

"As if. People make my drinks, not the other way around."

Kai took a big swing of the emerald drink, chugging it all in one go. Instantly, he could feel his insides bubbling.

"Did you poison me?!" Kai screamed, but was inaudible over the clamor of the party.

"Nope." The bartender said. "Enjoy." And with that, he vanished.

Kai ran to the restroom as his muscles began burning and pulsing with new strength. He could barely make it to the bathroom before he began to shake, shiver, moan, and grow.

As Kai grew, a single thought entered his head.

My behavior is not suited for a King.

----------

Kai's friends were starting to wonder where their leader had gone, when suddenly, a single text appeared on their phones.

Kai: Everyone, come down to the island. There's someone you need to meet.

The group stumbled to the beach, where a single man awaited them, carrying four drinks with him. He was enormous, seven feet tall, and was a stunning example of peak masculinity. He was clearly from the islands around here: his beautiful, dark skin reflected the setting sun perfectly, while saltwater trickled through his tight curls, mustache, and goatee. His gigantic, bouncy, fuckable pecs sat atop a tight muscle gut, indented with the turtle-shell pattern of abs. His biceps outsized his head, and were crisscrossed with a pattern of veins showing his strength. His legs would have been incredibly oversized on any other man, but on him, they were glorious, perfect cylinders striated with pure strength, able to cut through water with ease. His ass was a perfect breeding site for any cock able to work its way past his thick muscle cheeks. An inviting aroma of saltwater and musk wafted from him, beckoning the boys over. It assaulted their nostrils, the scent unimpeded by clothes, for this beach hunk wore only a speedo and a necklace of purest silver. It smelled divine, and although these boys were straight before, this musk was worth far more than any feeble heterosexuality. They almost climbed over each other to get closer to the man.

"Now, now," The beach hunk said. "We can take me in some other time; I'm not the important one here. What is important, is you."

"What do you mean?" One of the rich boys asked. "You're perfect!"

"And you can be too." The beach hunk replied. "You boys want a drink?"

"Yes?" Another rich boy said.

"I made them myself," The beach hunk said, gesturing to the drinks in his hands. They gleamed a pure silver, like liquid mercury.

"From this big boy down here." He continued, patting the massive cock straining to break free of his speedo.

By this point, every single boy had a raging-hard on. They needed to know what this man tasted like. They dashed over to the beach hunk, and each grabbed a glass from the man's enormous hands, and drank the whole thing in one gulp each.

Instantly, their bodies expanded. Their thighs grew from twigs to tree trunks, laced with power. Their arms mirrored their King's, bursting with strength the size of coconuts. Their abs, one by one, popped into existence, forming tight eight-packs on all of their cores.

Soon, one boy started noticing how hot his neighbor was getting. While the beach hunk was a true being of masculinity, his friend was definitely becoming capable of rivaling him. He reached over to his friend's chest, and touched his nipple--

And suddenly, his friend's chest ballooned past almost every letter of the alphabet with mass, growing larger and darker and more sensitive, until his pecs were just as bouncy and voluptuous as his King's.

"B-bro..." He moaned. "I... I need you to touch them..."

His fellow transformee showed no slowness as he latched his rapidly-expanding hands onto his friend's enormous muscle tits, pawing and kneading the muscle and nipple. His friend moaned with pleasure. How could his chest feel so good?

The other two had noticed what their friends were doing, and immediately joined in. One began worshipping another's ass, while the final one began giving his friend a blowjob. Soon, their asses and dicks had all expanded into pillars and beautiful mounds of dark flesh, sensitive and plush, perfect for kneading. The friends grew closer and closer together, their hair darkening and tightening as they went, until they had all become a massive literal clusterfuck. Each man was sucking a nipple, taking a dick, fucking an ass, all in the most intense pleasure any of them had ever felt in their life.

Though, eventually, it was all too much. They felt their load coming right from their new enormous bull balls... and they just couldn't hold it any longer. In a burst of cum, they all released each other, panting on the sand in their beautiful new forms.

King Kai knew his new boys would make great citizens of his kingdom, but there was still much work to be done. He would go about this subtly, with his own line of drinks laced with kingly fluid. Soon, the islands would be peaceful, and everyone would live freely and without strife.

#male tf #male transformation #jock tf #race change #latino tf #black tf #bear tf #butt growth #pec growth #straight to gay #kings of the world

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loveharlow · 9 months ago

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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 1)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.2k] A trip to Charleston leads to a wild chase through Kooksville and an unexpected reunion that turns the pogues worlds upside down, amongst other heartbreaking events...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, unestablished relationship, poor communication, tw // jiara mentioned, mild angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ don't shoot me pookies, it's for plot value😬

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND THE FOUR OF YOU WERE RIGHT BACK IN MR. SUNN’S CLASS. You had a permanent smile on your face from last night and something had shifted between you and JJ in the hours between then and now. While you were driving to school in the car you two had fixed up together, you’d made a joke about him being your passenger princess, the blonde laughing and then absentmindedly planting his hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride.

You were starting to feel like yourself after weeks of walking around like a ghost and you were holding out hope that after this was all over, once the cloud passed fully, that you could give JJ the answer he deserved.

Right now, you were muffling laughs as Mr. Sunn rambled about the current unit topic, you and JJ sending tiktoks back and forth, phones hidden under the desks.

“Mr.Sunn,” A man emerged in the open doorway, dressed down in a suit with an envelope between his fingers. Your laughter died as your attention went to him. “Can I borrow Mr. Heyward for a moment?”

The teacher looked dumbfounded between Pope and the man at the door, chalk clutched between his fingers. “Uh, we’re in the middle of a lesson.”

“My apologies, it won't be long. I’m from the Vanderhorst Foundation, Mr.Heyward was previously in the running for our scholarship.” He pressed once more, Mr.Sunn sighing and giving in, motioning for Pope to get up. Pope looked at the three of us before getting and leaving the room.

Your eyes met JJ’s across the room, both shrugging. Kiara was too engrossed with trying to peek out of the door from her seat. Even though the classroom was fairly quiet, it was still too far to hear any part of the conversation.

Maybe he was there to offer Pope another chance which would be, for one, great but also impeccably poor timing. You glanced up at your teacher as his attention turned back to the board, slouching in your chair and shooting a text in the group chat the four of you had.

You

think they’re giving him his spot back?

Kie

doubt it, the deadline’s more than dead :/

maybe they still want him, pope’s a certified genius

Just then, Pope came power walking back into the classroom, turning a few heads as he did so. He practically fell into his seat, turning around to face you, JJ, and Kie, holding the envelope the man from the foundation had in his hand just minutes ago — flipping it to reveal the very same wheat symbol that was branded into the gold bars.

“What the fu-” JJ started, gaining the attention of Mr.Sunn who had very teacher like expression of warning, causing JJ to trip over his words. “Fu-fudge…” He cleaned up. The teacher gave him a look and turned back around in his chair.

“We’ll talk about it after class.” Pope whispered, nodding and turning around his seat.

THE FOUR OF YOU BOOKED IT TO THE LIBRARY AS SOON AS THE BELL RANG, the middle-aged hag of a librarian shushing you at the door. You found an empty table and crowded it as soon as possible, all ears waiting on Pope.

“That was the guy from the scholarship committee.” He started, putting the envelope in the middle of the table. “But that’s not all. Read it.” He urged, JJ being the first to swipe up the letter but he hesitated to read. You were sat next to him, the both of you across from Kie and Pope, so you leaned over his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong?” You asked. JJ angled the paper in your direction, eyeing the two people in front of him nervously as you immediately spotted the problem — the letter was written in cursive. JJ couldn’t read cursive. “Oh, it’s fine, I got it.” You reassured, gently taking the letter from the blonde’s hands.

“What?” Kiara asked, brown eyes fleeting between the both of you. JJ shook his head, wiping his palms on the fabric of his cargo shorts.

“Nothin’. I just, I can’t read cursive.” He dismissed cooly but you could tell the subject made him slightly insecure. “What does it say?” He deflected, looking back at you.

You cleared your throat before reading, paper clutched between both of your hands. “Dear Mr.Heyward, I am reaching out because I may have material evidence that can exonerate John Booker Routledge…” You trailed off, shocked eyes meeting those around the table before you continued reading. “...It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at twenty-seven King Street, Charleston at eight PM sharp, tonight. Please come alone…?” Your face twisted at that. No way in hell was that happening. “Regards, C.Limbrey.”

“Charleston?” JJ exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Pope’s endlessly pacing figure. “That’s like an eight-hour drive.”

“Plus, the ferry.” You added. “If you want any chance of getting there tonight we’d have to leave, like, right now.”

“I have a free period.” Kie shrugged, sighing. “I gotta tell my mom, though…”

“Alright but guys?” You piped up, meeting each of their eyes before continuing. “If we get it this time, there’s no way in hell we are giving it to Shoupe. It's gotta go to higher ups or some shit.”

“Agreed.” JJ nodded, standing from his seat and grabbing his backpack, you following his lead before Pope, who was crouched in front of the library computer, spoke up.

“I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant.” He told the three of you, JJ and you sharing a look before rounding the table to stand behind the boy at the computer, a webpage pulled up — a biography for ‘Captain Herman Limbrey’.

Well. Charleston it is, then.

“I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!” Kiara’s mom’s voice traveled through the rolled down windows of Heyward’s truck. You, JJ, and Pope were sat with the music playing lowly as Kiara attempted to reason with her parents about where she was going.

The family of three was visible from the driveway, but you could no longer hear the conversation as their voices lowered.

“They’re takin’ it really well.” JJ quipped sarcastically. You were sat in the middle of the two boys, Heyward’s truck not having a backseat made this drive even more dreadful. “How’d you get this rig?” The blonde asked the boy in the driver’s seat, referring to his father’s truck. “I know your old man didn’t let you have it.”

Pope spoke absentmindedly, eyes too focused on the girl arguing with her parents some feet away. “I undid the intake valves on the carburetor, made it start pinging.”

JJ nodded his head in approval, shifting his weight in the seat. “Mm, and now you’re just gonna 'take it to your cousin Jeff’s house, just gonna get it fixed, and crash overnight’.” He suggested to which Pope agreed. “I think I’m rubbin’ off on you, Pope. Lyin’ to your old man, stealin’ his truck…”

You quickly nudged the blonde in his side, shooting him a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender and bowed his head. “Ma bad. Sore subject.”

Pope simply sighed, tipping the hat on his head. “I’d say we have about eighteen hours before my pops loses his shit. So long as we get it back before then, we should be good.” Just then, Kiara came storming in the direction of the vehicle, yelling at her parents over her shoulder.

“I’m not going to boarding school!” She shouted, JJ opening the door for the both of you to get out and allow her into the car but she paused in her tracks when her dad began shouting.

“Look at your life, right now! Look at your life!” Kiara looked around at the three of you and then back at her father, shrugging carelessly and not sparing a word. Pope then peeked his head out of the driver’s side window.

“I, um, I promise to have her back at a reasonable hour and safe.” He threw out, holding his hand up as if he was asking permission. Kiara looked at him, shaking her head.

“Kiara, listen to me,” Her mother started, not exactly yelling but her voice traveled clearly. “You wanna go? Then go. But if you don’t come back at the proper time, then don’t. Come back. At all!”

You turned to Kie from your place next to JJ. “Hey, don't even worry about it. It’s the same threat each time, you know they won’t go through with it.” You told her quietly, in hopes of not offending her parents but offering her some sort of comfort.

Kiara didn’t say a word as she ducked into the car, you piling in as JJ squished himself in next to you.

“This shit would be so much easier without parents...” She scoffed, throwing her bag down on the car floor as JJ shut the passenger side door.

You and him both shared a look, knowing Kie probably didn’t fully think about what she was saying or who was around. You both grimaced at one another before looking away.

“God, 's so hot in here.” She complained throwing her head back. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car again?” She directed the question at you. “I mean, isn’t it drive-able now? You and JJ spent like every day working on it…”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the willpower to make it to Charleston and back just yet.” You told her with a small shrug. The girl simply groaned, trying to adjust herself in between you and Pope so it wasn’t so tight.

“Okay, could you stop moving like that? It’s making it hard to drive.” Pope inquired, pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road.

“There’s no space dude, there’s twice as many people in here than this car was built for.”

“Okay, JJ and Y/N, can you guys lap up or something?” The suggestion almost made you cough. Sitting on JJ’s lap for the next few hours did not seem like a good idea, considering recent events.

“Why can’t she sit on my lap?” Kiara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Because she’ll block the rearview.” Pope threw out, annoyance growing in his tone.

You looked to JJ for some kind of reassurance, he simply nodded and motioned his hands for you to come on. The car was still moving so you tried your best to be careful, the blonde spreading his legs to make a little more room for you to sit between them.

Once you had yourself settled, it was almost like JJ didn’t know where to put his hands. He had them planted on his on thighs beforehand so he accidentally laid a hand on your thigh before quickly removing it.

“My bad.” He muttered nervously. You could see his face faintly in the passenger side mirror.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one kind of in your space, right now.” You shrugged, trying your best to come off nonchalant, as if this whole scenario didn’t make your heart go crazy.

“You sure? I mean, I got pockets, I can just-”

“It’s cool, JJ.” You cut him off reassuringly, the blonde hesitating before letting his hand make home on your thigh. You didn’t know how to sit, if you should lean back on him, anything. But you figured if you made it awkward, it was going to be awkward. So you took a deep breath and simply leaned back into him, the boy making no protest about the movement.

The only thing you couldn’t ignore was the growing erection that was pressing against your leg, harder by the minute. Heyward’s truck was no smooth riding vehicle, so the ride was quite bumpy. You could still see JJ’s face in the passenger side mirror and he looked mortified.

Neither of you were stupid — if you could feel it, you knew he definitely could. And if he could feel it, he felt terrible knowing you could too.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered out, coming out more like a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. You shifted your eyes to the left to see Kie on her phone and Pope was too occupied with driving, probably deep in thought about how much trouble he was going to be in if his pops found out about all this.

“It’s-” You cleared your throat before speaking, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”

“Nah, it’s not.” He groaned. “I can try and move so you can sit more on the seat-”

You cut him off quickly. “We’ll be at the Ferry dock soon. Honestly, JJ. Don’t sweat it.” You said finally.

The action did make a small well of discomfort bubble in your stomach with your last sexual encounter being non consensual and traumatizing. Just because it was JJ didn't quell any of your anxiety but you were trying not to live life as a victim.

A few deep breaths and you were calming down.

You could understand his humiliation and had your relationship with him been in different place, maybe you two would have laughed it off. But with this newfound depth of your “friendship”, it had you both sitting in silence the rest of the ride.

“MY PARENTS ARE SO PARANOID ABOUT ME BEING A POGUE LIKE IT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN…” Kiara complained leaning against the passenger door of the truck. The four of you had it made it to the ferry just in time to catch the current ride. You and JJ, who was rolling a blunt, were sat in the back of the pick-up truck across from one another, Pope leaning on the side paying the three of you no mind. The awkwardness between you two had alleviated by the time you reached The Ferry, but the situation still lingered in your mind.

Seagulls squawked as the boat sailed the water, the sizable ship making its way slowly but surely.

“Hey, I hear they got good weed at boarding schools, though.” He replied optimistically. “Y’know, ‘cause all the rich kids got a shit ton of money to blow.”

Kie shrugged, dismissing the blonde’s hopeful piece of information. “I’m not going to boarding school.” She protested firmly. “If they want me to go, they’ll have to kidnap me. I don’t even know what their problem is. I mean, my dad was a pogue, you know that, obviously…” She trailed off, throwing an arm out in your direction. “They’re so hypocritical and overbearing. Why can’t my parents be more like yours?”

You couldn’t contain your expression of offense at Kiara’s words, the statement flowing so freely from her lips. So carelessly. “...You want a dead father and an underlying criminal mother who couldn’t give less of a shit about you?” The question was rhetorical but you wondered how she planned on explaining herself.

“Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cocked her head as if you were being unreasonable. “It’s just that, you can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier for you without parents watching your every move and breathing down your neck. That’s... all I was saying...”

You drew your lips into a thin line, arms crossing defensively. “Okay, well, my dad was murdered and my mother probably had something to do with it. Not to mention she tried to kill me, so not having two parents hasn't really been a choice for me, Kiara. But hey, ‘can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier’ for it, right?”

“I wasn’t saying-” She tried to defend with half a scowl on her face before Pope jumped in, JJ tapping your shoulder and offering you the blunt he’d been preparing. You took his from between his fingers, taking a long drag as Pope spoke.

“Okay, can we not argue? Please? I’m already mildly seasick enough as is.” He suggested, Kiara muttering a ‘fine’ under her breath as she adjusted her ponytail. “Kie, have you tried to hit JB back on that number?”

“Like, twenty-million times.” She groaned. “Some random lady at a hotel keeps picking up the phone.”

Pope sighed, shifting his weight. “Well, until they contact us again, we gotta keep trying to clear John B’s name. Right now? This letter is our best bet.” He concluded, rubbing his hands over his head. You turned slightly to be able to see him, offering the joint to the boy.

His eyes fleeted between Kie and the smoking object, contemplating. She simply crossed her legs and arms, offering the boy a mischievous smile. “What Pope are you gonna be today?” She asked.

He seemed to ponder for a few more moments before shaking his head, you retracting the blunt and passing it back to JJ as he spoke to Kiara. “I’m good, gotta stay focused.”

“I’ll take that.” JJ offered himself up, plucking the rolled object from your fingers with a smile.

Kiara simply nodded, her smile flattening out into a grimace. “Good Pope…” She said. “Boring Pope.” And you didn’t miss the way Pope’s face fell.

“I’VE READ THIS LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES AND IT STILL MAKES NO SENSE.” Kie explained from her place between Pope and JJ, you once again on the blonde’s lap as Pope cruised through Charleston. You’d gotten off the ferry a few hours ago, the sun now lower in the sky. “The Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston. What do some elite Kooks from Charleston known about a murder on Kildare?”

“I’m more concerned about why Pope specifically?” JJ questioned, eyes looking up at the driver.

“Yeah. ‘Please come alone’? That’s off-putting, to say the least.” You added, sitting almost slanted in JJ’s lap in order to lean on the door. You were both a little hazy from the weed so your nerves were a lot calmer.

“I had the same thought.” Pope chipped in. “I was thinking it’s probably because-” He cut himself off as a cloud of smoke erupted from the hood of his dad’s truck, blinding the road ahead. “Aw, shit, come on!”

“Pull over.” Kie demanded. “Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke. Even for your dad’s truck…” JJ began cough, you using your hand to cover his mouth as he rolled up the window. When he had it successfully rolled up, he gently removed your hand from his mouth.

“Pope, I got sensitive lungs, dude.” He coughed out. A filter of smoke filled the car, you trying to wave it from in front of your face as it made your eyes burn.

“I’m pulling over, okay?” Pope assured, but the car wasn’t slowing down. Pope swerved to the side but instead of pulling over, the car kept going off the curb until it was cruising through a patch of grass next to a quiet farm and you didn’t miss the rim that fell off of one wheel fly by the driver’s side window.

“Every time we let Pope drive, nothing goes right.” You muttered as the car came to an abrupt stop, the hood still smoking. You heard the engine die as Pope put both hands on top of his head.

“No, no, no…” He whined as he hopped out of the car, JJ following suit and helping you before jumping out himself.

“It’s gonna blow up.” Kie worried, crawling out of the passenger side herself.

“It’s not gonna blow up.” JJ told her, coughing one last time and rounding the hood as Pope attempted to fan the smoke away with his hat. “You most likely unhooked the radiator, Pope.” JJ suggested, eyeing the state of the vehicle. “Damn, you knocked the entire hubcap off.”

“Yeah, the Limbrey’s might have to take a rain check for tonight.” You added, scratching the back of your neck and eyeing Pope pitifully. The boy had a look on his face — somewhere between terror and disbelief.

“There’s still, uh, public transportation?” Kiara tried to reason, not seeming completely sure about the suggestion herself. You took it upon yourself to life the hood and examine the parts yourself, picking up a little bit about cars here and there from JJ.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the radiator…” You said aloud, sighing. Pope groaned loudly behind you.

“My dad’s gonna kill me!”

“No, he won't. I’m sure-” You were about to reassure the boy before you took one glance back at the car. The smoking, hubcap-less, mess of a car. “Okay, he might. He might…”

“Look, Pope, buddy, I’m sure there’s somethin’ we can do, right?” JJ offered, putting a hand on the solemn boy’s shoulder. You took the time to pull out your phone, you didn’t have many bars out here but enough to open up the ‘Maps’ app on your phone.

“There’s a mechanic garage about fifteen miles south of here.” You announced, looking out at your three friends. “Think your dad’s truck can make it fifteen more miles?”

THE SUN HAD COMPLETELY SET BY THE TIME THE FOUR OF YOU MADE IT TO THE GARAGE. What should’ve been a mere thirty-minute car ride took nearly an hour, Pope being too afraid to drive more than twenty miles an hour and making a pit stop to check under the hood again.

The boy in question was inside, negotiating with the owner of the shop. It was some place called Archie’s Auto Repairs, right next to a gas station and rest stop. You figured you were killing about three birds with one stone – car repair, refuel, and food.

JJ and Kiara were waiting in the truck while Pope spoke to the man in charge and you went inside to relieve yourself and get snacks. You were in the gas station bathroom, finishing up with washing your hands when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Surprisingly, you didn’t look like complete shit. Your hair was a bit frizzy and you look tired but you looked better than you had in the last month. You felt better than you had in the last month. Ever since that text from John B came through, it felt like everything was returning back to it’s normal state, like your life had hit the refresh button.

And maybe after everything settles and John B is cleared, things could be different but in a good way. This new life you were building, with JJ and Marley, it was starting to make you envision you had never really seen before. A life with JJ as something more than a best friend. You’d thought about him like that a few times throughout your friendship but it was JJ. You needed him and you didn’t want to ruin something so special because you had an on and off crush. But this one stuck. Maybe it was the kiss, or the almost sleeping together, you didn’t know. But something in your head was screaming at you to give it a shot. Something inside of you was reaching for him, calling out for him.

So maybe, once everything was okay again, you could figure that out.

Leaving the restroom, you cruised down the aisles of the shops — candy bars, chip bags, and sugary drinks, the whole selection look appetizing when you hadn’t eaten in over five hours. You grabbed four sodas and two family sized bags of chips and took them up to the register, the older, gross looking man eyeing you up and down as he scanned your items.

“That’ll be nineteen sixty-eight.” He slurred, bagging your goods as you fished for the twenty in your back pocket. “You’re a pretty little thang, aren’t ya? How old are ya, darlin’?” He asked, leaning his arms on the cashier’s counter, bumping the register. You cringed, sliding the bill across the surface.

“Not old enough.” You sassed, snatching the bag from the counter and leaving out the door, the bell ringing above you as you left. “Perv.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your rounded the corner of the shop to see the truck come into view.

Just as quickly as you rounded the corner, you hid behind it. Your heart had stopped for a moment as your registered exactly what it was you had just seen. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly peeked your head around the corner to find that your eyes had in fact not deceived you — Kiara and JJ were kissing in the trunk of Heyward’s pick-up. She had both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into hers as his own gripped the side of the truck for stability.

You immediately tore your eyes away when they pulled apart, hiding behind the wall once more. You couldn’t hear them. Maybe you were grateful for that. You were torn between wanting to cry and wanting lash out on them both. But maybe you had no right, maybe you were the fool in this situation.

It was JJ. JJ Maybank. Half of the female pogue population could probably describe in detail what was hidden beneath his pants. And Kiara? Well, who would turn her down? But she was supposed to be “with” Pope and JJ was giving you all types of green lights. But maybe you were blind and couldn’t see them for the red flags that they clearly were.

But you refused to cry. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed. You felt a bit played, in all honesty. And by JJ of all people. And how could Kie do that to Pope when he’s less than ten feet away? They weren’t together or anything, sure. But rules of friendship and respect just seemed so thrown out of the window in the past sixty seconds.

So, shaking it off, you rounded the corner with the bag in hand. JJ was scratching the top of his head while Kie fiddled with her fingers in her lap before his eyes found you, immediately perking up.

“And the potty princess returns!” He threw his hands up in celebration. “Ooh, did she bring snacks? What’s in the bag?” He asked, coming closer. When he reached you, you pressed the bag into his chest, attempting to keep him at a distance. Letting him have the bag and not even sparing the two another glance, you hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle, absentmindedly slamming the door shut in your silent rage. You hadn’t realized that one of your hands was balled into a tight fist. Loosing your hand, you left crescent-shaped marks in your palm.

You didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about. So you just sat there, listening to the night air, the crickets, the cars that passed by. You felt like JJ had just stomped on your heart and you weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him for it. But you should’ve known.

You’re a pogue. There’s always a calm before the storm. Nothing good comes without something bad.

A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED. Pope had found an empty field to park the truck in — shaded by a large, thriving willow tree. None of you really had enough money for a hotel and the money spent on one would be a waste, anyway.

Surprisingly, there was no night chill in Charleston. The four of you opted to sleep in the trunk of the pick-up, using your jackets and flannels as blankets for comfort. You hadn’t spoken since witnessing what happened at the garage, even Pope was taking weird glances at you the entire ride.

At this moment, Pope was knocked out, Kiara right behind him. You felt a snarl of disgust edge your way onto your face when she leaned over to peck the curly-haired boy on his cheek before closing her own eyes and drifting off. What was she doing?

A part of you was angry that she and JJ kissed, of course. JJ had led you on with this ruse of giving yourselves time to figure out what was going between you two — whether is was grief-driven or genuine. And Kiara had been playing tug-o-war with Pope’s feelings for weeks, months almost, and the moment he has his back turned, she locks lips with his best friend.

As a friend group, you all had your moments. But you never went behind each other’s backs. Especially never like this.

So, you slept alone. As alone as you could, anyway. You were curled up in the farthest place in the trunk from the other three, closest to the front of the vehicle itself. The pit in your stomach was finally starting to settle as the beginning of sleep started to overtake you when a warm hand curled itself around your shoulder, startling you.

Your eyes shot open as you whipped your head to the side to find JJ’s face hovering over yours.

“Jesus.” You whisper-yelled, rolling your eyes before looking at the blonde once more. “What do you want?”

At your standoffish tone of voice and straight to the point question, the boy drew his lips into a thin line, letting his hand slide from your shoulder. “Okay, someone’s grumpy.” He tried to joke, a lazy smile on his face.

You stared blankly at him for a few beats, blinking. “Goodnight, JJ-”

“Okay, sorry sorry…” He protested quickly, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t wake the other two when the volume and pitch of his voice raised before looking back at you. You shifted to lay flat on your back, staring up at JJ as he stared down at you, leaning his weight on one of his arms. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been actin’ weird since we left that sketchy ass gas station.”

You simply cocked your head. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered in response, an air of frustration surrounding your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

He reeled his neck back at your reversal, his face twisting in confusion. “Wh-Nothing’s wrong with me. You basically threw a bag full of snacks at me and jumped into the truck. Did I say something? Was it the potty princess thing ‘cause you know I was just messin’ around.” He guessed, taking your lack of reaction and response as a sign that maybe that wasn’t the problem. “Did I do somethin’?”

“I don’t know, JJ. You tell me.” You pressed, eyes never leaving his own. He genuinely seemed to rake his brain for answers before settling on one that made your blood boil.

“No, I don’t think I did.” The statement sounded more like a question when it tumbled from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but scoff and roll your eyes, prompting the blonde to try and clean up his answer. “Yes? I don’t know what you want me to say here-”

“Nothing.” You snapped. You were so hurt and angry that you could feel your eyes twitching as you looked at him. “I don’t want you to say anything else to me.” You warned, shifting to turn on your side and effectively away from him. “Ever again.”

“...C’mon, Y/N. Are you just fuckin’ with me or somethin’?” When you didn’t reply, he put a hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you over to face him. You just shook him off. “Can you tell me what I did?”

The sadness in his voice almost made all the anger fall from your bones but you couldn’t allow yourself to be the weak and vulnerable. Especially not for him. Not anymore.

“No. Now, leave me alone.” You mumbled, shifting to get comfortable for the last time, hearing him sigh and lay down himself behind you. You felt one single tear fall across the bridge of your nose before you closed your eyes. Maybe it was a misunderstanding or something, but your brain couldn’t come up with any explanation of excuse that could explain what you saw. You wanted to talk about it but then again you didn’t. But you knew eventually you’d have to, tonight just wasn’t that night. In a million years, you never thought you’d feel this way because of your best friend.

For the first time in your entire life, you didn’t trust JJ.

“THEY’VE RUN CHARLESTON FOR, LIKE, THREE-THOUSAND YEARS.” Pope explained as the truck pulled to a stop in front of a large, three-story, gated property. It was the next morning and the sun had quite literally just set in the sky. Pope had woken the three of you up at the very first crack of dawn so you could make it there ‘on time’. You’d tried to remind him that ‘on time’ would’ve been last night, but you let him hang on to hope.

It didn’t help that the truck was significantly more crowded. You weren’t eager to sit on JJ’s lap this time around and surprisingly, Kiara wasn’t eager to take your place. Thankfully, the house was only a couple hours from where you slept.

“These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” JJ proclaimed, staring out of the window and up at the large, standing building. “You sure this is the place, Pope?” He asked, in awe of the property.

“Pretty sure.” The boy sighed, opening the driver’s side door and exiting, JJ following right after as you and Kie exited the vehicle as well, closing the doors behind them. The four you walked up the black, wrought iron fence. Pope held the note in his hands, reading off the address in confirmation.

“Talk about home security…” JJ trailed off, looking at the rather sizeable, sharp points at the top of the fence.

“Are those spikes to keep people out?” Kiara inquired.

Taking a good look at the property through the bars, you noticed a couple of things. You shook your head, a look of disappointment on your face. “No.” You spoke for the first time in hours, the three of them turning to you as you pointed to a section of the yard. “The slave quarters are over there.” You explained, looking at the three of them. “The spikes were to keep people in.” Was the last thing you said before heading up the steps to the front door, the three of them following behind you.

You let Pope take the reigns when you reached the door, him knocking three times on the structure before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards it from the other side. Despite the footsteps, almost a whole minute went by before anything happened.

Pope, nervous and jittery, went to knock again — getting two good ones in before someone opened the door. A middle-aged white man with small, beady eyes and short light brown hair. The expression on his face didn’t look like one of someone who was expecting guests.

Leaning against the door frame, he eyed the four you individually before settling on Pope, an odd smile growing on his features as he pointed at you friend. “You must be Pope.” He said almost excitedly, crossing his arms. Pope stumbled for a response. “Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My car…broke down on the way up here.” Pope explained, trying to mask his uneasiness.

“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville.” JJ voiced from behind Pope. He didn’t look nervous at all, he looked ready for anything. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He said, little emotion to his voice despite the apology.

“Yeah, she was, uh, real upset when you didn’t show up.” The man told Pope, a southern twang to his voice, almost as strong as Shoupe’s.

“We tried to call but there’s no number on the invitation.” Kiara piped up smally, looking at the invitation as she spoke. “We got here as fast as we could…”

“She also expected you to come alone.” The male said, eyeing you, Kiara, and JJ as he said it.

“Well, he didn’t, so…” You added in, crossing your arms and eyeing the man up and down. “Where’s the ‘she’ with all these demands anyway?”

Pope edged in front of you when the man took a threatening step forward, JJ also shuffling forwards. “Look, these are my friends. They helped find the Royal Merchant, too-”

“The instructions were explicit.” He cut Pope off mid-sentence, eyes boring into yours as he leaned forward, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. “Your friends…can stay outside.” He reprimanded, straightening out and turning back to Pope.

“We’re kind of a package deal, man.” JJ turned his nose up at the man standing between the four of you and the inside of the house.

Pope turned to the blonde. “JJ, it’s okay. I got this.” He assured, sending a small nod his way. JJ took his words at face value, sending a nod in return and taking a step back.

“We’ll be right here…” Kiara trailed off in support, sliding a gentle hand down the length of Pope’s arm. You simply rolled your eyes, something JJ didn’t fail to notice.

“We’ll keep the car running…” You warned, eyes never leaving the suspicious man in the doorframe.

“Well, c’mon now. Ms.Limbrey can’t wait to see you.” He said, stepping aside to allow a weary Pope into the mansion. The boy in question entered the home, not without a glance back at the three of you out on the front step, the door closing menacingly slow behind him.

“Fucking creep.” You scoffed, turning and heading down the steps swiftly.

“Hey, where are you going?” Kiara asked, running after you, watching as you walked the length of the wrought iron fence, examining the spikes.

“What does it look like? I’m gonna find a way into this…house of horrors.” You mumbled, shaking each of the poles for a weak spot, failing to find one. You resorted to attempting to climb the fence but didn’t even manage to get both feet up onto the structure at once.

“And do what exactly? What if you trespass and ruin all our chances at clearing John B’s name?” The girl asked, her face twisting in annoyance as you sighed and hopped down off the fence, turning to face her. Shifting your weight, you shoved your hands into your back pockets before speaking.

“Oh, like you did when you made Pope drop the camera?.” You shrugged, jutting out your bottom lip. “Y’know, the one that had the video of Ward killing someone-”

“That wasn’t even my fault!” She defended.

“I think we all collectively agreed that it was…” You argued nonchalantly, shooting the girl a grimace before walking off in the direction of the parked truck that JJ was leaning against, watching the entire interaction occur.

Before you’d turned away you could’ve swore Kiara opened her mouth to reply, but one warning head shake from JJ and her lips were sealing themselves shut. You were about to open the passenger door when JJ’s hand gripped your upper arm, the blonde staring out in front of him with a stoic yet pointed look on his face.

“Can you let go of me-”

“Does that look voluntary?” He asked, tone deep. You followed his unwavering gaze to find a blonde woman and the man who opened the door leading Pope further into the yard behind the gate. Pope was looking back pitifully at the three of you as the man pushed him forward and the woman, a cane by her side and a limp in her walk, led them both further into the greenery.

“Not at all.” You practically whispered back, attempting to take a step forward when JJ tightened his grip.

“Hold on, hold on.” You turned to him an impatient and questioning look on your face, throwing a hand out as a way to ask ‘what?’. “They’re goin’ around the back alley.” He said hurriedly, rounding the driver’s side of the truck as you hopped in the passenger side, Kie piling in beside you. “We’ll meet ‘em on the other side.”

JJ started the car, driving it slowly in order to draw too much suspicion — with the Limbreys or surrounding neighbors. You could almost hear all three of your hearts beating in panicked unison with every turn made. You didn’t know what these people wanted with Pope, but if they didn’t drop this whole super secret act, they wouldn’t be getting anything.

Driving and driving, and still no Pope. JJ eyes were focused ahead as you and Kiara looked to the sides of the road for any sign of him. “Where did they go?” Kie asked, peering out of the window. She sounded sad. The trio of you continued driving around, Pope nowhere in sight. You were starting to get worried, extremely worried.

If the Limbreys were like the Camerons of Charleston, there was no telling what they could be doing with your friend right now.

“Okay, stop the car.” You said, putting your hands on the dashboard.

“What?” JJ asked, although he slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop on the side of the road. You reached over key and threw the passenger door open before climbing over the girl. “Where the hell are you going-”

“Ouch, that’s my- Ow!” Kie shouted.

You threw yourself out of the vehicle before standing up and dusting yourself off, looking side to side before deciding to go back in the direction the alley was in. Even if you didn’t see Pope, there was a way in and there was no way in hell you weren’t taking it.

You set off quickly in the direction of the alley, Kiara and JJ calling out for you before two pairs of footsteps were trailing behind you. You passed a few people on the sidewalk, unintentionally shoulder-checking them in your haste.

“Watch it!”

“Hey! Rude…”

Reaching the alley, you made a sharp turn into the greenery. You could hear grunts and groans that stopped you in your tracks — you were no stranger to the sounds of violence. Your power walk turned into a sprint, pushing leaves and branches out of your path before reaching Pope, who was beating on the creep who opened the door.

He had him pinned down to the concrete, both of them reaching for what seemed to be a taser. Your eyes fleeted between the two brawling guys and the weapon before you decided to kick the object behind you in the direction of Kiara and JJ.

Pope delivered one last blow to the man’s face before getting up. “C’mon.” You demanded, being the first to run away, back in the direction of the truck. The four of you took the short way — hopping over a cement wall that guarded a small portion of the yard.

The car was a few feet away since you ditched the scenic route, the four of you wasting no time in jumping in. JJ in the driver’s seat with the three of you piled in as well.

“Who the hell were those people?” Kiara panicked, out of breath as she slammed the passenger door shut.

“I don’t know but they’re crazy as shit!” Pope’s voice cracked as he settled into the vehicle. “We need to get out of here now.” He warned, wide eyes drifting in JJ’s direction as the blonde started the engine and hit the gas almost all in one motion as the vehicle leaped forward, sending you all down the road.

Near moments after JJ had hit the gas, leaving a smoke trail in his wake, you looked behind you to see a car speeding behind you, the fishbowl windows allowing you to see the driver clearly. “Creepy guy recovers fast.” You panted, looking back ahead of you and prompting JJ to peek in the rearview mirror, pressing the gas a little harder.

“Here we go now!”

Heyward’s truck was going faster than you ever deemed possible, flying down the road. “Hey, JJ, slow down. This is a one-way.” Pope warned, the truck never slowing down. JJ was too focused to hear much of anything, you were gripping the seat for dear life. “This is a one-way!” Pope got louder as JJ started to reach a busier part of the town. A car suddenly appeared in front of you, the headlights blinding.

“Car, JJ! There’s a car!” You warned, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel yourself and making a right turn before the truck could collide with the SUV. Rounding the corner, you almost collided with two pedestrians — the two heads of blonde and light-brown hair looking eerily familiar for the slightest of moments.

“Jesus, look out!” Pope and Kiara said in unison as JJ took back control of the wheel and avoided hitting the two people.

“Get out of the road!” JJ shouted as he redirected the car on the street.

“Those were pedestrians!” Kiara reprimanded, gripping the passenger door for stability.

“That was evasive driving technique right there, y’all!” JJ patted himself on the back as you turned to look out of the rear window to see the man still hot on your trail.

“You sure about that ‘cause he’s still following us.” You warned, looking at the blonde for the briefest of moments.

“Hang on, I’ll lose him.” JJ assured you all, making a sharp turn that sent the three of you crashing into each other. Just as he turned into an empty alley, a pop sound following a hiss of air and smoke came from the truck. “I thought you said he fixed carburetor!”

“He did!” Pope said as the car came to a stop of its own.

“No, Pope, he clearly did not!” JJ retorted as he opened the door, Kie doing the same on the passenger side. The four of you got out of the truck, fanning the air and coughing.

“Number one rule, never trust mechanics.” JJ spoke mainly to himself as you all grabbed whatever you brought along with you out of the trunk of the car just as the car following you pulled in the alley as well. “Shit. Go, go, go!”

The four of you booked, the smoke hopefully giving you a bit of time as you ran through the alley. You and Kiara looked behind you as you ran, seeing the man get out of his own car and tuck something into his jacket.

“He has a gun.” You muttered, looking back ahead as you ran. “He has a fucking gun!”

Pope and JJ glanced behind themselves, past you and Kie to see the man not far behind. The squad of you picked up the pace, making the first turn available but you swore you heard someone calling your names.

The man was picking up the pace as well, getting closer to you all. “We might have to split up!” JJ suggested from the forefront of the group.

“Are you crazy?” You shouted, being right behind the blonde. “No way!” You continued, almost tripping over an unleveled section of the concrete. JJ, not paying attention, ran into a mailman, sending the packages in his hand flying into the air.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” He apologized over his shoulder. JJ led you all into another alley, this one much narrower causing you all to run in a line. The guy was falling behind, which was a plus.

Coming out of the alley, you all came face to face with a couple on a bike almost getting run over by them. But after taking a longer look at the two people who almost pummeled you all with their bike, your heart dropped farther down in your body than it ever has.

Every single one of your five senses seemed to cease to exist in this moment. You couldn’t hear anything, white noise filling your ears as your vision blurred on the edges, only allowing you to see what you could only logically explain as two ghosts standing in front of you — a very much alive John B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron standing in front of you, covering in mud and dirt and who knows what else.

Whatever breath you had been holding in your lungs released itself, the release of air allowing your senses to return, almost like coming up out of the water.

All of your expressions were somewhere in between a blank stare and a smile. You wanted to reach a hand out to see if they were real.

“...Get in. Get in! Get in!” John B broke the silence. His voice hadn’t changed. It was exactly like you remembered. The four of you did as he said, still partially in shock, piling into the bike. You, Kiara, and Sarah crowded into the cab of the pedicab as JJ and Pope pushed it from the back as John B pedaled as hard as he could.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of his back as he pedaled, unless of course it was to direct the same blank stare in Sarah’s direction. The Limbrey guy plus two other men were chasing the group of you now, JJ and Pope hopping onto the sides after it gained enough speed to ride smoothly with the six of you on it.

The entire ride to the boat, your friends were whooping and cheering. And on the inside you couldn’t be happier or more relieved at how well the universe seemed to work in your favor but for some reason, your body wasn’t so eager to show it on the outside.

For a whole month, you’d grieved someone who wasn’t dead.

Once you reached one of Ward’s boats the Sarah knew the location of — My Druthers Too, you all wasted no time jumping into it, sailing in the direction of The Outer Banks. Back home.

next chapter>

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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ihearthes · 3 months ago

Text

Abbey Road Studios:

A Harry Styles Meet Cute

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Original Unnamed Female Character

Rating: Fluffy Meet Cute

Word Count: 3439

“You’re shitting me?” I gaped at my manager. “THE Abbey Road Studios? How did you…? When am I…? What the actual fuck?”

Her grin across the desk was wider than a grand piano. “When I talked to the publishers about the audiobook, I assured them that being in the quintessential studio where the Beatles recorded The End would lead to a more inspired audiobook recording of your book The End.”

Leaping out of my chair, I rushed around her desk and hugged her tighter than a guitar string nearing its breaking point. Her laughter was rich, the hearty kind that could be served with both a spoon and a fork. Maybe even a knife thrown in for good measure.

“I’ll make you proud,” I vowed before releasing her and returning to the other side of the sparse wooden desk with its ornate carvings on each of the four legs.

“You already have,” she grinned. “After all, you have the most popular music podcast in the world.” Her statement was a major overstatement. Although my 2 year old podcast Time Machine Tunes was growing, it was barely in the top 100 music podcasts. Maggie was convinced the book would drive more listeners my way. “This book is going to be the icing on the cake of your popularity. You’re going places, kid.”

While I could have managed without the ‘kid’ tacked onto every sentence the 72-year-old American dynamo spoke about me, I was keenly aware that I still had a long way to go in establishing my career as a historical music writer. Without Maggie fighting on my behalf, I would still be shopping my manuscript to publishers. Meticulously researched despite the subjects not honouring me with an interview, my book was garnering buzz from the musical world before the final manuscript was even sent to the publisher.

“If you’ve heard the author’s podcast, you’ll understand her fascination with the greatest band of all time. You’ve heard the stories of how they ended, but this book delves more deeply into the stories surrounding their breakup,” read the promotional blurb written by Cameron Crowe.

Maggie never would tell me how she managed to convince the great Cameron Crowe to write a blurb for my book, but I suspect it had something to do with the past she never mentions, likely involving a stint as a groupie in the late sixties.

Days later, the popular zebra crossing was laid out before me with a steady stream of fans lined up to record their personal rendition of the most famous band photograph ever taken. I took a deep breath. In one tote bag, I carried my favourite teas, biscuits, and a bag of fresh fruit. The other tote bag held a copy of my bound manuscript with notes written in the margins of how I want to sound when I read certain parts of the text aloud. Places to pause were marked in pink highlighter. Sentences to be spoken with more emphasis were underlined. The usual.

This is how I prepare for my podcast, so I shouldn't have felt as strange as I did. At the bottom steps of the studio, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and whispering to myself, “Just act normal.”

My fingers pressed on the wooden door, and it surprisingly opened at my touch. Inside was a reception desk with a stony-faced twenty-something female sitting behind it, tapping lightly on the keyboard keys, and a security guard wearing a uniform that must have weighed double the young man wearing it.

“No tours. The shop is next door, Miss,” the receptionist politely used her pen to point the way.

Gulping air, I nodded, then spoke in a rush. “I’m here to record. I mean, I have an appointment. I mean I’ve – my manager, really – has reserved a studio for me.”

So much for acting normal.

“Which studio?”

“The Front Room?” I ventured.

She tapped her pen on the book in front of her before shrewdly surveying me from head to toe. “Oh yes. Hand over your ID please so we can verify your identity.”

I fumbled my way through my pocketbook, seeking the one item that always seemed to fall to the bottom, no matter how large or small my bag might be. Just as I felt the leather of the small wallet touch my fingers, it slipped away again until I finally had to set the bag on her desk to more effectively dig through it. In triumph, I finally withdrew the offending item, raising it above my head.

The security guard simply stared at me until I freed my licence from its card slot, handing it over with a flourish. With a brusque nod, he took it from me with two fingers, exiting the room to another office.

“Should I – follow him?” I inquired, my voice a combination of shaky and firm.

“No.” Her reply was curt.

Minutes later, he emerged, handing me back my licence before directing me to another door. “That’s the Front Room. The team is waiting for you.”

My insides quivered like a bowl of elderflower jelly as I took the steps necessary to walk to the identified door.

“Ta!” I waved to the front office team before opening the studio door and stepping inside. Closing the door behind me, I slumped against it, eyes closed, and whispered, “You daft git.” Because of course I would see them again. Soon probably. And every day for the week while I would be recording.

“Excuse me?” The voice caused me to stand up straight.

“Oh, I didn’t mean you.” My eyes took in the slight man standing before me in blue jeans and a cosy oversized jumper. His curls were ringlets that reached his shoulders, and his beard was neat and trim.

“Who did you mean?”

Wincing, I frowned, my face cycling through about five different expressions before settling on a smile that, I hoped, lit up my whole face. “Me. I meant me. I’m —” Freezing, I held out my hand to this man, briefly forgetting my name.

“I know who you are. I’m Sean, your engineer.”

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for helping me.”

Sheepishly, he shuffled his feet. “Don’t thank me too profusely. This is my first time doing this on my own.”

“Congratulations!” My voice squeaked out a little too loudly. “This is my first time recording in a real studio. My podcast is normally recorded in a tiny room at home that I’ve converted into a studio.”

“I’ve heard your podcast,” Sean reveals. “My partner and I never miss an episode.”

Grasping my hands together, I hold them over my heart. “Really? Thank you so much. It’s my baby.”

“One of these days you’re going to need a producer, you know. You can’t keep doing it all on your own. Not if you want to get bigger. And you’ll need a recordist. And an engineer too.”

“Oh.” My voice was tiny. His words felt like a scolding and a dismissal of my teensy podcast and my dream to grow it into something larger.

“No, no. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He was quick to correct my assumptions. “You’ll continue to expand your audience, and more people will want to be part of your team. It’s the natural evolution of recording. Unless you’re not any good – which I’ve already said you are.”

Choosing to take him at his encouraging word, I set my totes on the sofa in the control room. “Sean, I’m confident we’re going to get along just fine this week.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve just got me. It’s usually a bigger team here for the Front Room, but…” His voice trailed off, and I focused on his face.

“But?”

“It’s nothing.” He mindlessly picked some lint off of the immaculate sound board. “Some of the rest of the team thought it was sacrilegious for you to come into Abbey Road Studios to share your book about how THEY ended.”

The emphasis on the pronoun made it clear who he meant. “Ah, I see. They refused to work with me even though they had no idea what the book actually says or how much research I did?”

His shoulders raised and lowered, and his eyes roamed the floor. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

The reluctance of the rest of the team set like a stone in my stomach, but I shook off the negativity. Oh well. Fuck them.

“Their loss,” I grinned.

He smiled back at me. “Agreed. Let’s do this.” Sean gestured around the space, pointing out everything I needed to know, and I unpacked my totes in preparation for the day. “Nice selection of teas,” he commented.

“My throat gets dry sometimes.”

As if he needed my explanation. He had worked with loads of people who probably needed tea to lubricate their throats, so it couldn’t be unusual. Why I felt like I needed to justify every bit of my practice was beyond me. I was a professional after all.

A professional who had no idea what she was doing in a fancy studio like this.

Apparently I was feeling a twinge of imposter syndrome.

“Shall I heat some water now?” Sean asked as I unpacked the manuscript with all of its sticky notes resembling the jagged cliffs of Dover. It was really sweet of him to offer, so I agreed. The control room wasn’t very big; other than the sofa, it housed a couple of plants and, of course, the prominent sound board. Sean flicked the switch on the electric kettle to the left of his console and turned back to where I was standing, my manuscript tucked to my chest as though it contained a pirate’s treasure.

“Let’s get you into the booth,” he said, leading me through the only other door in the small studio. “We mostly do music here, as I’m sure you know. But I think I’ve got things set up well for an audiobook. I brought in this small desk and a chair. If you don’t like the chair, I can find another one. Oh, and I found this.” He directed my attention to a book stand. Sheepishly, he smiled. “I was worried a music stand would be too flimsy.”

His simple preparations were touching, and my gratitude was boundless.

My arse settled into the chair, and I sighed at how luxurious it felt on my bum. “Perfect!” I proclaimed, placing the first chapter of the manuscript on the book holder.

“Great! Let’s try some different microphones and test your voice.”

An hour plus a few minutes later, we had finalised the microphone choice as well as the calibration of the sound board controls with my voice. My cup of tea was to my right and my coloured pencils were to my left so I could easily grab them to indicate changes to my delivery.

To record, Sean closed the door between the control room and the booth, but I could see him through the full sized soundproof glass inset on the door between us. During the first couple of hours, he would encouragingly nod to me at times. Or he would grimace, and I would know I had to read a section differently. Or louder. Or softer. Or with more expression.

“Uh, this first chapter will probably take a long time to record,” Sean shuffled his feet as we finished our morning tea. “Don’t panic. Once we get into a groove, the rest of the book will go much faster. It’s just that we have to, you know…”

“I understand,” I commented, nodding graciously. “It’s fine. As long as we get finished with the book by the end of the week…”

“Oh, that won’t be hard.” He flapped his hand at me. “We might even have time on the last day to record a few of your upcoming podcasts.”

“Really?” I was intrigued at the thought.

“But only if we don’t get too distracted.”

Ha! What could possibly distract me from my work?

I found out the answer to that question that very afternoon.

Sean and I were finally recording chapter two, our bellies full of the lunch he’d convinced a studio runner to take away from a nearby Indian restaurant. The remnants, half-full boxes of rice and curry with naan bread, covered the top of the coffee table by the sofa.

We had switched out the comfy chair for a wooden stool so that I could sit upright, practise my best posture and, most importantly, not fall asleep after the heavy meal. Sean played the roles of engineer, recordist, and director with joy and a skill that I came to both appreciate and disparage as the early afternoon flew by.

When I looked up from the script in front of me as we were in the middle of chapter three, I was surprised to find Sean turned towards the main studio door, his lips moving as though he were talking to someone.

“Hey!” My voice expressed my gentle offence in his headphones. “I thought we were a team, but you’re not even listening!”

He shook his head, removing his headphones and punching the button for his microphone.

“Take five. There are a couple of fans of yours out here who want to meet you. I think you might recognize one of them.”

Ugh. Fine.

Standing from the stool, I stretched my arms over my head, my vintage Beatles t-shirt rising and revealing my belly button. Through the large window between the booth and control room, I watched as Sean stood, his head bobbing up and down and a grin on his face.

When I could stall no more, I opened the door, leaning against the door jamb as I examined the two men standing by the studio door.

“Hi,” said one.

My jaw dropped as the other man’s face came into focus. Holy shit. How was he here? Had Sean joked about him being a fan? He must have been because there was no way…

“Jeff Azoff,” I breathed, attempting to speak coherently. “You’re Jeff Fucking Azoff.”

“Yes” was his smooth answer. “And I’m sure you know who this is…” He gestured to the man with him, and I shifted my gaze briefly to him. While extremely handsome, his face didn’t ring any bells, but I decided I’d better be polite and go along with the implication that I should know him by sight.

“Nice to meet you,” I muttered, quickly turning back to THE Jeff Azoff. “How did you…? I mean, holy shit. The number of times your father’s name has appeared in my research is staggering. Did you grow up surrounded by all of those musicians? REO Speedwagon? Dan Fogelberg? The fucking Eagles?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

Man of few words.

“What was it like? Oh wow. What I would give to pick your brain. Did I hear Sean correctly? You’re a fan? You listen to my pod?”

Once more, he bobbed his head in answer to my multiple questions. And then he tried to hoist me off on his friend again.

“Harry has worked with some other great artists,” Jeff began, nodding towards his companion.

Dismissively, I waved my hand in the direction of the handsome man who simply grinned, an extraordinary dimple appearing.

“YOU know my podcast?” I demanded of Mr. Azoff.

“Yes.”

Holy shit. Confident I would need to pry any future responses out of him, I placed my hands on my hips.

“You’ve heard my series about the Eagles then?”

“Indeed.”

“And? What did you think? Are you going to tell me everything I got wrong?”

“No, but I really think you might want to talk to Harry about…”

I interrupted. Whoever this Harry was, I was much more curious about this man’s take on my podcast. “Has your father heard my podcast?” My voice may have squeaked a little when I asked the question.

A nod was the only reply I got before he turned back to the bloke with him.

“Is this weird for you?”

“No.” The handsome man appeared to be amused as his lips twitched to the side, and his eye crinkles magically appeared. “Unique, but not weird.”

Narrowing my focus on the handsome one, I squinted. “You’re a musician recording here?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he grinned. “I’m Harry.” When my face still showed no signs of recognition, he added in a smooth voice with a northern accent, “You might have heard of me. My music has won a few awards. Harry Styles.”

The blood drained from my face. I had been freaking out over Jeff Azoff when the muse to Stevie Nicks was standing in front of me? It was Harry who grasped my elbow when I started to fall over from a lack of oxygen, gently guiding me to the sofa.

“Maybe some water?” he asked Sean who rushed into the booth to grab my water bottle, handing it to Harry quickly.

“Sip it slowly,” the Grammy winner said, and I ignored his instructions, nearly choking as I sucked water into my lungs. “Hey, hey. Easy there.” Glancing at Azoff, Harry laughed, “This feels more normal.”

“You –” I choked, coughing between words. “You – know – Stevie – Fucking – Nicks.”

Curiosity furrowed his brow. “That’s why you nearly passed out? Because I know Stevie?”

“You not only know her.” My voice was filled with incredulity and awe. “You’re her muse. You’ve performed with her – and with Fleetwood Mac. And you were the one who inducted her. Holy fuck. You must have done something right in life.” Stopping, I swallowed. “Holy fuck. I must have done something right in my life.”

He had settled on the sofa next to me, his face a mass of confusion. His head was tilted, and his lips were pursed as he scratched at his head.

But I didn’t have time to wait for him to catch up. “You can introduce me! Fleetwood Mac is my next podcast series, and if this book does well, I might write a full book about them. I’ve been engaged in a deep dive of reading about their time as a band. I’ve read everything I can find – official or not. In fact, there is a stack of books on my nightstand about Stevie and Mick and the rest. You have to introduce me. It would mean the world to me.”

My pleading must have broken through his confusion, and he cleared his throat. “You want me to vouch for you to Stevie? I don't really know anything about you.”

“But you listen to my podcast, right?” My head swivelled between Harry and Jeff. “Oh! You could read my book. See what my style is. I swear I would do right by Stevie. I’m so disappointed that I didn’t get to meet Christine before she… Anyway, I’ll do anything for an introduction. What do you need from me?”

“Anything?” Harry humoured me.

“Yes.” Swallowing, I nodded eagerly.

“You’re saying I could read your book? The one that’s not yet published? The one you’re recording now?”

My head bobbed like a cormorant.

“The one that’s about The End? That book?”

I hadn’t stopped my silly affirming as my head continued to move in the same up and down pattern.

“And maybe Jeff could read it too? And my friend Paul?”

My head froze, mid-bob. “Paul? Sir Paul? Sir Paul Fucking McCartney?”

Harry laughed, a delightful tinkling sound, his head rearing back with his joy. “Does everyone in your world have the same middle name?”

“Huh?”

“Fucking. Jeff Fucking Azoff. Harry Fucking Styles. Stevie Fucking Nicks. Sir Paul Fucking McCartney.”

Slapping my hand over my eyes and forehead, I groaned. “Please don’t tease me or joke with me. I’ve been trying to get Sir Paul to talk to me and read the manuscript since I started writing it. Not a single response to my queries.”

“Hmmm…” Harry murmured, tilting his head to one side. “So if you would do anything to meet Stevie, what would you be willing to do to meet Paul?”

“Name your price.” I was hoping he wouldn’t ask for much. All I had was the flat I shared with a friend from uni and a wardrobe of vintage clothing I’d carefully culled from a variety of charity shops.

“I get to be there when you meet them.” My head whipped up so that our eyes connected. “Plus five dinner dates with me.”

My eyes narrowed, “In addition to any meals we share with Stevie or Paul?”

Nervously, he licked his lips and glanced at Azoff who shrugged, seemingly disinterested.

“Yes.”

Author's Note: This really is just an introduction to these characters as part of a series on Meet Cutes. Who hasn't dreamed of meeting Harry Styles somewhere? Live vicariously through these women who randomly run into Harry Styles as part of their normal lives. How might one chance meeting change their lives forever?

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #harry styles fanfic #original writing #harry styles meet cute #harry styles imagine

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cariantha · 5 months ago

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In a Mood

Book: Open Heart, Book 3 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mention of pregnancy Category: Grumpy/Sunshine; Angst Word count: 1.3K Prompt: From @kyra75, “Sunshine is humming and singing constantly, while grumpy at best just tolerates it quietly.” A/N: This is a prequel to their proposal fic.💍Hope you don’t mind, Kyra, but I reversed the grumpy/sunshine roles.🤭

Ethan stepped out of the high-end jewelry store, twirling his keys around his finger and sporting an uncontrollable grin. He whistled a happy, upbeat tune as he walked down the block to where he had parallel parked. Settling into the leather seat of his Jaguar, he started the ignition and cranked up the stereo. Safely merged into traffic, his fingers drummed to the classic rock beat as he sang along. “l said, are you gonna be my girl… 🎵🎶🎵… I say you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine… 🎵🎶🎵”

Sawyer woke on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe because it wasn’t the comfy bed she became accustomed to. She’d been sleeping in Ethan’s for the better part of the past year but stayed at her apartment last night to start packing. Her lease ended in a couple of months, and despite Ethan’s offers to pay the penalty for breaking the lease early to encourage her to move in with him, Sawyer insisted on keeping her room until after her board exams. The six-foot-four, blue-eyed sex machine was too great a distraction when she needed to hunker down and study.

Shuffling down the hall and into the kitchen, she found Sienna balancing a mixing bowl on her hip while she swayed back and forth, singing a Taylor Swift hit. When Sienna noticed her, she shoved a batter-coated spoon into Sawyer's face, suggesting she take over lead vocals, but Sawyer shook her head and grumbled. “Sorry, Sienna. I’m not awake enough for the Eras tour.”

The day continued in the same irritable fashion. She was fifteen seconds late catching the T. While she waited for the next one to arrive, a street musician embarrassingly circled and serenaded her with “The Lady in Red,” making her wish she had picked a different color jacket this morning.

Later, she watched from the gallery as Bryce led his first heart-lung transplant. He bobbed his head and lip-synced to a mix of 90’s alternative rock playing through the operating room’s speaker system. The intro to “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence began to play.

“Ohhh yeah,” Bryce hyped and looked to the gallery. “Brooks! It’s our song. Sing with me!”

Not one to usually shy away from some lighthearted fun, Sawyer just couldn’t get past her funk this morning. “I’m good, buddy.”

After a couple more headbangers, Sawyer wished him luck on the rest of the procedure and went back to work.

That afternoon, Ethan suggested a walk to Derry’s Roasters. On the way, he began to whistle a chirpy tune. It was familiar, probably a melody from one of the arias from the opera they attended a few nights ago. “Ugh, not you, too,” she muttered. Ethan wasn’t usually a whistling and humming guy, but something was definitely in the air today, and she seemed to be allergic to whatever it was.

“Did you say something?” Ethan asked.

“It was nothing.”

The annoying merriment continued into the evening hours. Music sounded from the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen as her man prepared dinner. It wasn’t loud, but he sang along with the lyrics. Ethan Ramsey was singing! It should have brought a huge smile to her face and forced her into a fit of laughter, but for reasons she could not explain, it grated on her.

She fake-smiled her way through dinner, not wanting to project her foul mood on her disgustingly happy boyfriend. When Ethan hopped in the shower and started humming another melody, Sawyer grabbed her phone and headed to the balcony. She texted her best friend, hoping Christian would allow her to vent.

A couple of days had passed since her text exchange with Christian. Saywer’s moodiness was at an all-time high, though she tried to curb it, especially around Ethan. He had been so sweet the past several days and had done nothing to deserve her bite.

Hoping a jog would burn off some of the negative energy, Sawyer headed to the waterfront. As she ran along the boardwalk, she made a mental note to shop for a new sports bra because this one felt like it was lacking support. With every pound of the pavement, her breasts ached. Midway through her route, she had to stop for a breather, her body heavy with an unusual fatigue.

When another female jogger pushing a stroller passed and politely waved, a potentially life-altering thought occurred to her. One that detoured her to the pharmacy on the way back to Ethan’s apartment.

Sawyer heard his happy tune when he entered the apartment later that evening. Finding her in the kitchen prepping dinner, Ethan greeted her with a “Hi” and kissed her temple. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

As he put his things away and changed into more comfortable clothes, Sawyer could hear the song he whistled on his lips getting louder as he returned to the kitchen.

Even if she found his carefree mood annoying lately, she couldn’t deny him his happiness. Her heart hurt knowing there was an excellent chance he wouldn't be humming or whistling much in the days to come. Because Ethan Ramsey didn't see kids in his future. He said as much two and a half years ago. When she had asked him the question, the fMRI scan of his brain confirmed it.

Ethan stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her from neck to cheek. He greeted her with a proper kiss when she turned her face toward him. "How was your day off, baby?" he asked.

Baby.

Sawyer hesitated before answering. With his hand splayed over her stomach, she wanted to say, "It was shocking, and I'm terrified to tell you because it's going to change everything."

Instead, she shrugged and answered with a deceiving truth. "I went for a jog, ran some errands, and waited for test results."

Ethan kissed her temple again and gently moved her to the side to take over dinner prep. "Stop stressing over those test results, Rookie. You've got nothing to worry about."

Sawyer stepped behind him to hide the mist gathering in her eyes. She squeezed him around the waist, and to herself, she said, "Please let that be true."

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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fivestar-outlaw · 2 years ago

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New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 2)

Chapter 2: Wishes

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.2K+

Warning(s): Mentions of rude customers, MC is stressed(tm), use of time jumps

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! I hope you guys enjoy it. I think its my favorite of the four <3 Not much else to say other than tadaaa and thank you for the love for the first chapter.

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

Series Masterlist | Navigation

You got out of your last class for the day in the afternoon and ready to get your shift done at the bookstore next. It was a warm Thursday but you were glad it was slowly starting to cool off. Shifting your bag your shoulder you pull out your phone and see you got a message while in class. You smile and press the kakaotalk app. Seonghwa had sent you a message.

'Good afternoon for you, (Y/N). I just woke up. I hope classes have been well.' Followed by a cute emote of a cat yawning in bed.

After inviting Seonghwa to your island to sell turnips and take Marshal, you two began playing together. This was initiated by him, saying that he wanted more Animal Crossing friends. You and him swapped gifts for a few days in the game when he asked if you'd like to message through kakaotalk and here you both were now. At first most of your conversations pertained to Animal Crossing but gradually it shifted to you two learning about each other and talking.

And not just over text either.

When Seonghwa learned you were learning Korean he offered to help you out with verbal conversations if you helped him with English. At first you wanted to decline since you knew he would be busy and the time zones would make it difficult. He talked you into it, however, saying on the weekend when he has a shorter practice day and on your Friday nights when you could stay up layer you'd both video chat to show the progress you've both made for the week. Though, soon that would lead to sporadic video chats when either of you had free time.

'Good morning to you. I just got done with classes and I'll be heading to work in an hour. :)'

You replied and a few moments later he responded.

'Want to have a quick video call before I need to leave for practice?'

'Sure, let me find a spot to sit at.' You quickly found a small picnic table in the shade under a tree and put in your earphones. You hit the video call button and wait for him to pick up.

The screen shifted and you see his face. He seems to be at his deak with his phone set up to perfectly capture his face. You could faintly hear his Animal Crossing game in the background. You couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Hey, Seonghwa. How did you sleep?" You greeted.

"Hello, (Y/N). I slept good." He smiled. "Were classes good today?"

"A bit boring. We just did lectures today and got a good chunk of reading to do for homework. Did you have breakfast yet?"

"I grabbed something small." You watch as he reaches over off screen and he holds up a bowl of cereal in one hand and an apple in the other. "I'll pick up more food when we get to the building." He lightly chuckled.

"Ah, yeah. I was running behind so I didn't have much to eat this morning." You saw him give you a playful scold. "But I'll be sure to pick up something at the café by my job. I have some left overs from last night that my roommate made for us that I am looking forward to after my shift."

"Oh, Redd is at my island and the real artwork is one I already have, the beautiful statue, do you want it?"

"That would be great, Seonghwa. I am missing that one. Man, it seems like Redd really likes visiting your island. He rarely ever comes to mine."

"Well, you've been having the better turnip-"

"Hyung!" Three loud, distinctive voices cut him off and soon you're seeing San, Mingi, and Wooyoung bust in behind him. Seonghwa was clearly flustered as he stared at you then looked back at the three men in his room.

You haven't gotten to speak to the other Ateez members before, nor were you ever begging or asking to. You'd let your friend decide when you'd be introduced to them. Seonghwa frequently mentioned the antics Ateez gets up to and he's mentioned that he has brought you up to them before. You were curious to see how this video call would go.

"Is that (Y/N)?" You see Mingi bend down into frame, looking at the phone. Wooyoung and San crowd around the elder male, who's ears were turning red.

"She is pretty, hyung." Your faces flushes with warmth when you hear Wooyoung not so quietly say. You smile though when you hear his words.

"It's nice to meet you finally. Seonghwa-hyung is always talking about you." San smiled brightly next to a mortified looking Seonghwa.

You chuckle, "It's nice to meet you three too! I hope you've heard all good things."

"Only good things. Hyung never shuts up about you." Wooyoung said playfully, rolling his eyes.

"Want to swap KaTalks?" Mingi asked while already pulling his phone out. San and Wooyoung quickly follow suit.

"Hey-!" Seonghwa tried to speak but the youngest in the room cut him off.

"We want to talk to and get to know (Y/N) too, hyung. And she can help us with our English. Right, (Y/N)?" Woo smiled at you and you can see a hint of mischievousness in his expression.

"Will the schedule Seonghwa and I have for those work for-"

"Yes, it would." San interrupts. "So KaTalk?"

You simply chuckle and immediately exchange numbers with them. You start to see notifications pop up on your screen of them texting you their names and emotes as well.

"Let's be friends." Mingi excitedly said with San nodding along.

"I look forward to talking to you guys."

"I look forward to talking to hyung's pretty friend-"

"Okay, out you three." Seonghwa cut Woo off and glared at the three of them as he stood up from his chair. You watch him shoo San, Wooyoung, and Mingi away, who were all very vocal in wanting to stay in his room and talk to you. You heard the door close loudly and then see Seonghwa sit back down in front of his phone. His ears, cheeks, and the sides of his neck were blushing.

"They seem fun." You tease.

"Try living with them. I'd never get peace if Woo was living in the dorm too." He rolled his eyes but still kept a soft expression. "I do love them despite the teasing."

"So you talk about me to them?"

"W-well, yeah. I consider you a friend and all-"

"Seonghwa!" Suddenly you heard Hongjoong's voice in the call. "Woo told us you were speaking to your game friend!"

You see Hongjoong and Yeosang flank Seonghwa and kneel on the ground while Jongho and Yuhno stand behind them, leaning down a bit to be in frame. The eldest male looked so embarrassed as they started to greet you and asking you to exchange numbers, making sure to tell you how much Hwa has mentioned you.

----------

It was late one Friday evening as you got home from work. You were feeling especially exhausted from dealing with rude customers and from staying up late the night before getting homework done. Your professors must be collaborating to make your homework levels as stressful as possible with all the assignments on top of the readings and the studying for finals next week.

And you swear customers must have planned to be the worst this week with their rudeness or staying in the store way past closing. Today alone you had a lady almost hit you with a book she tossed directed at your head and had a group of teens stay an hour past closing trying to see if they could stay in the store over night.

It hasn't been a good week. You've been so tired and drained, you've hardly been able to really communicate with Seonghwa or the rest of Ateez at all.

You slowly trudged to your room, saying hello and goodnight to your roommate on the way there. You wanted nothing more than to get into comfier clothes and sleep, but you knew your mind was too stressed to fall asleep immediately. Maybe some catching up on youtube or some Animal Crossing will help.

You close your room door and immediately toss your bag in the corner. You quickly grab some clothes to relax in before peeling off the outfit you'd been wearing all day. Almost instantly you felt some of the tension leave your body. You let out a sigh and roll your neck, stretching your limbs in hopes it'll help.

Your phone started ringing.

You look at the screen and see that it was Wooyoung wanting to video call.

Despite it two months since you got to officially meet the rest of Ateez, you were close with all the boys. Though, outside of Seonghwa, you talked with Wooyoung and San the most. Both were very sweet with you and you appreciated them and Seonghwa in integrating you into their friend group with ease.

You go and sit down at your desk and press answer, but didn't turn your camera on. You see Woo and San. They seemed to be outside somewhere, snacking on something. Both smiled.

"Ah, turn on your camera. We haven't seen or heard from you all week." Woo pouted. You really didn't want them to see how haggard you look, but you've come to learn you couldn't say no to him.

"Fine." You say, dragging out the word. You tap the button and see you are now on camera. Bother either could speak you sigh, "I know, I look like a mess. I just got home ten minutes ago."

"Weren't you supposed to get off an hour ago?" San's brows scrunch in concern.

"You look really tired, (Y/N). Are you taking care of yourself?" Woo's voice was gentle. "Have you eaten yet?"

"It's...been a hard week." You bite your bottom lip, feeling tears sting your eyes. "Just a lot of school work and then bullshit from customers. I'm just happy its the weekend tomorrow for me."

"Do you want to cancel the language catch-up lessons?" You felt your heart drop at Sannie's question. "Practice ended a few minutes ago, we just wanted a moment on the roof the relax. After we are done up here we are going back to the dorms soon, we can let the others know for you if that's the case."

"I'm sorry guys. I completely forgot." You couldn't help prevent the tears from finally spilling over.

"No, (Y/N), don't cry." Woo coos. You hastily wipe the tears and make sure to take steady, deep breaths.

"Don't worry about today, yeah? It's okay, we understand." San's kindness and his smile made you feel a little better. "The others will understand."

"Thank you both." You shakily say with a wet smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry-"

"Don't apologize for that." Wooyoung tsk'd. "I wish we were there, I would be giving you a big hug right now."

"Me too, (Y/N)." Sannie spoke, his tone and face exuding sweetness.

"I wish you all were here too."

"Now go eat something. We'll let the others know about tonight." The younger male smiled.

"And we won't tell everyone the details either. Just that it was a tiring week for you." San assures. "Take care of yourself, (Y/N), and remember all of us are here for you."

"You both take care too. Thank you again."

They both smile and wave. The call ended and you let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. You sit at your desk a little longer just to further decompress from the day. You were mindlessly scrolling on social media for a bit, letting your brain shut off.

---

Wooyoung and San returned to the dance studio a few minutes after their call with you ended. When they walked through the door they saw the others lounging around on the ground, some looking at their phones while others chatted.

"Woo and Sannie are back!" Mingi grinned and got up from the floor. "Now we can head home and talk to (Y/N)."

The two glanced at each other and then back at the others, who were getting up and grabbing their things to leave.

"We actually talked to (Y/N) while we were up on the roof." Wooyoung started. Seonghwa perked up when he heard they spoke with you. He and the others haven't heard much from you this week, which had them a bit worried.

"Is she alright?" The eldest couldn't help but ask, stepping closer to them. Everyone else looked at each other with knowing looks at his concern.

"She can't do the usual language lessons today. She told us she hasn't had a good week so we suggested she just rest tonight." San said. Everyone pulled out their phones and sent various supportive messages to the group chat you were in.

"That's too bad. I hope she is fine." Hongjoong crooned.

"She will be. Like we said, it was just a rough week." Woo nodded, his lips quirked up in a smile. "She needs rest."

"Let's get back to the dorms then." Hongjoong clapped his hands together.

Everyone let out several spunds of acknowledgment and started making their way out of the dance room to the garage to go home. Seonghwa lingered a bit, still looking at his phone before following the others at the back of the group. Wooyoung decided to move to the back with him to walk along side him.

"Are you messaging her?" The younger male asked.

"Yeah, she and I are going to video call and play Animal Crossing when we get back to the dorm and after she eats dinner." Seonghwa hummed, typing a few more things before putting his phone in his pocket.

"You care for her, don't you, hyung?" Woo's voice got lower so the others couldn't hear them.

"I do." Hwa smiled sincerely.

"Do you like her?"

"Of course I do. She's been nothing but a good friend."

"No, I mean as in you have a crush on her." Seonghwa looked to the younger males face, trying to discern if he was teasing him but saw nothing of the sort.

"No, I don't, Woo." The older male said softly. Wooyoung eyed him, but decided not to speak further on the matter. He could recognize Hwa was telling some truth, but he also could tell his friend wasn't completely aware of his budding feelings.

Wooyoung wasn't stupid and neither were the others.

Everyone else began picking up small things that gave it away. Seonghwa has gotten very happywhenever you two texted or video called. Whenever they took breaks during rehearsal, he'd immediately check his phone for any messages. He'd often laugh and tell the others a funny story you told him about your day before you told any of the others. Overall, he just seemed very happy.

And they were happy for him.

The boys were obviously wary at first and had expressed this to Seonghwa. He assured them that you've been nothing but genuine to him. And after them getting to know you on their own they came to that same conclusion. They just hoped Hwa could come to terms with his underlying crush and Woo hoped you could as well.

Only Wooyoung knew you had feelings for his oldest hyung and he hoped the two of you wouldn't drive him crazy.

---

The second Seonghwa walked through the door to his dorm, he immediately rushed into his room to wash up. He grabbed some comfier clothes and walked back into the shared space were Mingi and San were.

"I'll shower first." He smiled to them and didn't wait for an answer as he went into the bathroom. Mingi and San looked at each other before smiling while shaking their heads.

Seonghwa took the quickest shower he has ever taken. He felt less sweaty, clean, and relaxed from practice. He rentered his room and booted up his switch before he unlocked his phone. He sent a quick text telling you to call him when you were ready then got his phone set up for the video call. He did some fishing and bug catching as he waited.

When he heard the ringtone he quickly answered it.

You seemed to be lying on your stomach with your phone propped up at an angle, your switch in your hands. Seonghwa could see exhaustion clear on your face and he could see some puffiness to your eyes. Concern immediately filled his being.

"Hello, (Y/N). I'm sorry the week hasn't been kind to you." He crooned.

"How much did Woo and Sannie tell you?" There was almost a hint of worry in your voice.

"Only that it was a tiring week and you needed some rest." He gently smiled. "If... you want to talk about it, I am here for you. Only if you want to of course, don't feel like you have to share."

"It wasn't anything major. I've just been assigned a lot of homework, finals are next week, and customers have been a nightmare to deal with." You exhale. "I think today, though, stole the show with rude customers."

"What happened?"

"A lady tossed a book at me because we wouldn't accept it as a return and then some teens made me stay an hour late after closing because they wanted to hide in the store over night." You snort at the absurdity of it.

"I am so sorry its been hard for you. At least your weekend starts now."

"At least I get to play Animal Crossing with you. My mind hasn't been able to relax yet- Oh! And there is a meteor shower happening on my island!" Your face lit up and Seonghwa attempted to ignore the flutter in his chest. "Let me open up the airport for you so you can get some wishes too."

Seonghwa quickly had his avatar fly over to your island.

"Enough about me. How have you been, Hwa?" You lead him to a good vantage point on your island to wish on stars.

"The week has been good. We are practicing a lot for the various performances coming up and we've all been working hard. Sannie almost started a fire in the kitchen." He smiled when he heard you chuckle at that. "I'm glad to see you again, (Y/N)."

"I'm glad too. Sorry for being inactive-"

"You don't have to apologize for that. Life gets busy, we all understand. I just hope things in your life get less stressful for you."

"I'm already feeling better talking and playing Animal Crossing with you, Hwa."

"Good."

"Anything else happen this week? I know you can't say specifics but any antics with the guys?"

Seonghwa smiled as he focused on making his avatar make wishes. "Well, Jongho's been progressing nicely with his vocal training and practice. You didn't hear this from me, but he's been wanting to do a video call with you to show you that. Wooyoung and I did a home-cooked dinner for everyone on Wednesday this week. We all wished you could have joined for that. Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yeosang engaged in a brief prank war from Monday to Tuesday. I had to put an end to it when the rest of us became collateral. And then Yuhno and San put together everyone in teams for a small free style dance battle..."

He was about to continue on but when he glanced back up at his phone, he saw that you had fallen asleep. His features soften at how adorable you looked, one arm supporting your head while the other outstretched with your Switch still in your loose grasp. He could faintly hear soft snores from your parted lips.

Seonghwa felt a tightness in his chest. He could feel his face and ears flushing with warmth. These are things that he has experienced lately when talking with you. His mind suddenly went back to Wooyoung's earlier question, making his eyes widen.

Oh.

Taglist: @stopeatread @hee0soo @pocketjoong-reads @seonghwaddict @tridkeys

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monsterswithimagines · 5 months ago

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Undisclosed Desires - Part 14

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 696

Masterlist

My Joe is kind of like Netflix!Joe and also like Book!Joe, who kills people and then goes "So anyway..."

I thought you'd notice how distracted I am, considering the amount of time we've been spending together.

But no, you are fighting with your grandparents and your mother isn't answering your calls and you don't want to talk about it so I am giving you your space. It's that easy.

You are thankful. You promise you'll make it up to me later.

You don't have to make anything up to me, (Y/n). You are giving me the time I need to rid the world of a pest.

It's surprisingly easy to get Jasper alone. His polygamous relationship is unfulfilling (shocking), so he spends most of his free time running around New York with his ‘friends’, who probably wouldn't notice if I walked up and stabbed him right in front of them. His evenings consist of getting drunk at shady bars and buying drugs from shady people. It only costs me three days to figure out his entire pattern.

How this man manages to be so put-together at work every day is one of life's great mysteries.

On day four, I spend the early afternoon at a thrift shop. I buy a tracksuit that looks sufficiently used and a baseball cap that looks sufficiently new. At the end of the work day, I wait around outside your office (making sure you don't see me when you leave) for Jasper to come out.

And then I follow him.

Jasper doesn't drive. He's the kind of asshole who takes the train because he thinks it makes him look down to earth. Good thing for me, because it makes it so much easier to stay on his tail.

First, he goes home, but he only stays there for an hour. Just long enough to appease his wife. Then, he leaves again.

Tonight's shady bar is actually near your apartment, but I don't think Jasper knows that. All he knows is this is the wrong kind of neighborhood, which means it's the right kind of neighborhood for his purposes.

I really need to get you to keep your windows closed.

Jasper meets three guys outside and they all shout-greet each other and slap each other's shoulders the way these types often do, and then they go inside.

You know how you can tell that I love you, (Y/n)? I spend nearly six hours waiting inside the disgusting alley, leaning against the wall with one leg bent, foot against the brick, like drug dealers in movies do. I've got my cap pulled low over my eyes and I pretend I'm texting frantically. When the wrong people approach me, I glare at them until they walk away.

It's after midnight when Jasper stumbles outside. He is alone. He is either so drunk or so uninterested that he doesn't realize he knows me. He wants cocaine and I tell him I have some.

There's a woman smoking at the mouth of the alley, but her back is to us and it is so easy to lead Jasper around the corner to where there's a dead-end and knock him out. There are no cameras here, no doors. There is a dumpster, but nobody's going to come out and throw anything away until two am, when the bar closes.

Jasper should be grateful. He dies without anyone noticing - including himself. It's easy. Painless.

When they find his body, it will be a drug deal gone wrong and everyone will pretend they never thought something like that would happen to him even though they really did think it would. They were waiting for it. People like Jasper always end up like this in the end.

Nobody will ever think to connect either of us to his death. Why would they? You would never come to a place like this and me? I barely know the guy.

As I leave, I check my phone for texts from you. There are none because you don't know what I just did for you, so you don't know to thank me. But when you find out about Jasper's death, you will pretend to be sad and secretly thank whoever is responsible, which means you will be thanking me anyway.

#joe goldberg #penn badgley #you netflix #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg x reader #imagine #joe goldberg x female!reader #joe goldberg x y/n #joe goldberg x you #x reader

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cels-not-so-secret-love-affair · 4 months ago

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falling to the music pt. 3 (jily)

a/n: it’s been a slow sort of week, but we’re making a comeback with another instalment of my silly little jily band au. yay!

previous | next

Mr Nice, sensibly, waits for Lily to text him before attempting to call her. She’s calmer when she does so, and about to cook dinner for herself and her roommates in her student flat. It’s something to do with her hands other than holding her phone, or potentially throwing it at a wall if he says anything either too irritating or too attractive. A preventative measure. After explaining the situation to James, she pops him on speakerphone, and props him up on the counter.

‘Hello?’ His voice is slightly tinnier over the line, but it still makes Lily shiver a little. It’s got a richness to it that feels comforting.

‘Good evening, James,’ she calls, slicing her chicken into strips.

‘Lily! Lily Evans, how are you?’ The full name should not have the effect it does. Nor should it send flashing images of the words Lily Potter through her mind. Christ, there’s something wrong with me.

‘I’m okay. Still recovering from the bashing my ego took after being ghosted for almost a full business week, but I’m breathing.’

‘I really am very sorry about that,’ he repeats earnestly.

‘Yeah, well. Just don’t go lobbing your new phone at gaggles of seagulls or whatever, and I’ll let you off.’

‘Duly noted.’ She can hear his smile again. It bleeds into the shapes of the vowels. Diabolical.

‘Enjoy your Saturday?’ she asks, moving to wash her hands.

‘Yes, actually. We had practice in the morning, trying out some new songs. Then I got some work done for school, went on a run, came home. Now I’m talking to you, which is, naturally, the highlight of my day.’

‘You’re a flirt, Mr Potter. What degree do you do?’ Lily’s switched to chopping vegetables now and, against her will entirely, has found herself smiling down at her red peppers.

‘Architecture! It sounds poncey, I know, but I swear on my life it’s interesting.’

‘I’ll believe you. Although I have to say it doesn’t match up very well with the whole lead guitarist thing.’

‘No matter how many cool points those showy riffs might earn me, I am, at heart, a bit of a nerd. Sorry to disappoint you.’

‘I’m not disappointed.’

‘I’ve lucked out then. How about you, what degree do you do?’

‘Hmm. You know what - have a guess. If you’re right I’ll chuck a bit of carrot at my screen as a reward.’ James laughs at that, and Lily feels a sense of accomplishment blooming in her chest. The sound is very easy to listen to.

‘Alright, I love a challenge. Let’s see… something to do with English?’

‘Bloody hell. How’d you figure that one out?’

‘I’m right, then?’

‘Yeah. English Language and Literature.’

‘Score! It was a bit of a guess really. You had a pin on the strap of your bag when you came to talk to me after the show. A proper enamel one, shaped like a stack of books. I remember wondering where you got it from.’ Lily is momentarily baffled at how this man can forget to charge his fucking phone and remember this seemingly innocuous detail about her all in the same day. It’s sweet, though, that he takes an interest. It almost makes her forget the four days spent sans text message.

‘That’s observant of you.’

‘Yeah, I suppose. Where did you actually get it from, the pin?’

‘Oh, it was just a gift from a friend.’

‘The one that came with you to the concert? Or someone else?’

‘No, not Mary, though she is basically unbeatable in the gift giving department. It was from one of my flatmates, Alice.’

‘Mary isn’t a flatmate then?’

‘No, she grew up here, so she’s living with her parents whilst she does her degree.’

‘Nice.’ A short quiet falls then. With any other of her previous interests, it probably would have been awkward, but not with James. It’s just nice. He’s nice.

‘What are you cooking?’ he pipes up after a few minutes.

‘Something simple. Chicken stir fry.’

‘I bet that’ll be great.’

‘Hopefully, yeah. Have you eaten yet, James?’ Lily is surprised at how soft the question sounds when it comes out of her mouth. The bastard’s endeared himself to me, she thinks.

‘Not yet. I’ll message Sirius in a bit, see what he fancies. He’s a shit cook, so it’s either I cook for the both of us or we go out for dinner.’

‘You guys are really close then.’

‘Yeah,’ James says, and he sounds like he’s properly proud of it. ‘He’s basically my brother. We grew up together, you know? And then he lived with us for a few years until the two of us were eighteen, and then we came to the same uni together and everything. We just get each other.’

‘That’s lovely.’

‘Yeah. He’s like, the best thing in my life right now. Him, and the band, and big Tesco’s.’ Lily laughs at that last addition.

‘A respectable top three, to be sure. How did it come about, the band?’

‘We all went to school together. But like, school’s boring, right? Or at least secondary is. So we needed something to make it more bearable, and there were two typical teenage things we came up with in the end. Pranks - aimed at teachers and cocky year sevens and generally just creating chaos - and starting a band. God, I don’t know how McGonagall put up with us. We’d run round the place like dickheads setting traps for whoever was unlucky enough to be in the Maths department that day, and then spend all our lessons planning stuff to do with the band. What songs we were going to play, what outrageous outfits Sirius could wear next, what we’d call ourselves. And then that never really stopped.’ James has a way of speaking that just puts you at ease, Lily finds. It’s almost like magic.

‘Sounds a lot more eventful than my experience at school.’

‘Yeah. Eleven to fifteen was pretty insane. We calmed down a bit after that - A Levels to think about and all.’

They keep talking for a while, on their cosy little cooking call. The conversation just seems to flow, moving from topic to topic like embroidery thread dipping into silk until Lily is somehow already plating up, five neat portions of food ready to be served. She tells James this, and he congratulates her on a job well done. Then, they say their goodbyes and he leaves her to the rest of her night. There’s a strange sort of emptiness after he hangs up the phone. She didn’t realise just how much she’d gotten used to having his voice chatting away in the background.

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mellowyellow236 · 2 months ago

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A Week’s Worth of Wake-up’s

(As all of the characters are from a DND game I’m in, some of them have names that are the same as those in established franchises. Ignore the actual characters, everyone except Tartaglia acts and looks completely different. My one friend just… Wanted to be Tartaglia.)

“Next customer, please,” Kuri called, the last guy she worked with walking out of her office as she strutted beside him. Her eyes scanned the area, smiling when she saw a familiar face. “Hey, Mister.” She said. The tall man came up to her, a much shorter one behind him.

“Hello, Kuri. Thanks for finishing the design that I sent you. I’ve brought my son along for the ride today, I hope that’s alright.” He said. She nodded, leading him into the room.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Does he mind needles or anything?” She asked. The shorter man shook his head.

“No. Also, you can just talk to me.”

“First of all, you’re 19 according to Mr. BlaRa, which is a kid compared to me, with my birth being a whopping four years earlier than yours.” Fefe laughed a bit, as Kuri continued, getting her station ready. “Second of all, you’re tagging along with your dad on an appointment you don’t seem to want to be at. Third, in my office, I talk to who I want to talk to.”

He huffed, “You know, I can’t see you with any tattoos, either. You’ve got more metal on you than ink, I’d think you did piercings or were a jeweler for a living. And I just don’t like them in general.” She laughed a bit, getting Fefe’s arm under her needle.

“Good to know I won’t be getting any extra customers out of you.” She tased Fefe, who chuckled a bit. Kuri then turned back to Midias, “But be quiet or leave the room, Babe. I don’t feel like getting your dad’s arm botched up by laughing with you.”

She started focusing on it, as Midias moved to sit down on his father’s other side, taking out his phone to scroll or something. The work wasn’t hard, it was mostly simple shapes and didn’t involve more than one color, just a bunny in red. It didn’t take long, about an hour and a half, and she lifted the needle away. She then wiped down his arm with a disinfectant wipe,

“I’ve seen Alei a few times so you’ll get the whole lecture from him most likely, just don’t pick or scratch, tanning, drinking, bandaging, or tight clothes. Wash your hands before touching it and stuff. I trust you’ve got the rest covered, or Alei will make you. I’ll be sure to text him about it within a few days so he can check up on you.” She said, smiling at him, before turning to the other man. “As for you, thanks for being quiet. If you ever change your mind about ‘em, or you have a friend that wants one, come on over. I own the parlor, so it’ll mostly be me who does it if you decide.” She walked out of the parlor, and the two men followed her to the checkout. Fefe smiled, pushing Midis up a bit.

“By the way, Mister, how’s Alei been? He got a… Porcupine, I think? In blue and white.” She put an elbow on top of Midias’s head, setting up the touchscreen terminal for him to pay.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t care.” She shrugged, twirling the longer strand of his bangs.

“Alei’s been doing well,” Fefe said, “Although you’re free to take Midi off my hands so we could get some more alone time.”

“Dad.”

“Oh shush, your father’s a great wingman. And even better at finding me workers. If you’re up for it, I'd love an extra hand.”

“Perfect! Take him off my hands for the rest of the week! I have a vacation with Alei. Goodbye!” he said, walking out. Kuri pushed her arm down so it was around his neck, effectively trapping him unless he wanted to start wrestling her in the middle of her shop. Midias looked at her judgmentally.

“This was premeditated.”

“Is that a question?”

“No.”

“Good judgment. I have my bed and a pull-out couch. You the mattress or the floor.”

“I assume you’re not offering yourself for the couch?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘P’, putting her chin on his head.

“Kill me now.”

“I don’t feel like cleaning up a murder.”

The first day, Midias woke up on the couch. They hadn’t pulled the mattress out the previous night, the shop closed late and the laundry machine broke down while they were attempting to dry the sheets for him. So, they were outside, and he was inside on the couch. He had nothing to do but go on his phone for the full three hours she spent in bed after him. By the time she woke up, it was ten, and she was still in pajamas.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Rise and shine, sweetheart. What do you want for breakfast?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.” He huffed, standing up and stretching.

“Cool. What do you want to eat?” She padded over to the kitchen, which was much more of a kitchenette since the island was covered in art supplies. “I can make something, or we’ve got leftovers from last night.”

“How do you cook anything in here?”

“You see, the stove exists. And I will take matters into my own hands if you don’t answer me, babe.”

“Don’t call me that. And I’m not hungry.”

“No, and no.” He narrowed his eyes at her and frowned when she brought out a thing of eggs and bread.

“You can’t just say that I’m not hungry and make it the truth. That’s not how it works.”

“This is my apartment above my shop. I can do whatever I want within it.” She said, tying her hair up with a rubber band. He cringed. “Besides, I’ve got food, and you can’t survive on leftover pizza for days on end.”

“I can, first of all. Secondly, at least get a hairband. You’re going to pull your hair out like that.” She smiled at him, grabbing eggs and bread.

“How much do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll give you one egg, how’s that sound? Omelet or fried?”

“Fried.”

“I’ve got jelly and butter in the fridge.” He walked over to the fridge and opened it, taking out the condiments. She cracked the eggs and took the butter. “Toaster’s in the bottom shelf.” He did that as well, bringing it out and plugging it in.

“How many pieces of toast do you want.”

“Just one. I see you’ve changed your tune, huh?”

“You’re going to cook for me no matter what I say. I might as well get out of the cleaning you’d make me do if I didn’t help.” She hip-checked him, which he didn’t do back. “Where are the plates?”

“Top shelf, along with the mugs if you want to make coffee. The machine’s… Somewhere under there.” She gestured to the tarp-sized paper over a set of things, which was covered in drawn-on flowers, animals, and other designs. He gave her a disgruntled look. “Instant stuff’s in the cupboard along with milk in the fridge.”

She went back to cooking, as he attempted to get to the top shelf. Serval attempts to scale the countertop and Kuri unsuccessfully tries not to laugh later, he gets one of the barstools- which were all painted, one by an adult and three by either children or very incompetent adults¹- And stands up on the one with a checkerboard pattern with various possibly-bats in the white spaces and probably-ghosts-possibly-puffins in the black ones. The limbs of the stool were red, and so was the back, with a child’s drawing of a wolf on it.

“Why are your things up so high?”

“I’m 6’2”.” Midias grumbled at her response, but without a counter, he just brought down plates and mugs for them. “Mind getting coffee out of the pantry for me?” He nodded and walked away while she put an egg on his plate.

“Where in the pantry?” He opened a door.

“Not that- Ugh.” A large, although soft, sleeping bag fell on his head. She sighed, and he looked at her in disappointment. “Don’t open that closet.”

“Already done. What’s your day off this week?”

“I’ve got all week off. Your father and I agree that you’ll scare off customers.” She said half-jokingly and half as though it was a real concern.

“We’re spending the rest of the day cleaning out your things.” She whined at that, putting the second egg on the pan for herself, an omelet that she had taken a bit to spice. The toaster oven dinged, and so Midias walked back over. “I will not live like this for a week.”

“But does it have to be today? Why can’t we can’t wait for tomorrow? Today’s already half over.” She said, “Plus, my apartment’s clean, it’s just disorganized to you… I know where everything is, and it’s not like I’ve got bugs anywhere.”

“You woke up so late it doesn’t even matter, I think. You’ll get the whole night to do whatever you want to do, anyway.” She sighed and bargained.

“All I want to do is rest on my week off. You’re a student, you should relax too. I went to college once.”

“I don’t care. Also, I’m on summer break, so no need to worry about me.”

“Then you clearing up my apartment, if you really want to! I’ve already got to go grocery shopping today and call someone to fix the laundry machine tomorrow. Besides, you should feel lucky the sleeping bag fell on you. It rained last night, and it’s expected to rain again in the afternoon.” She huffed, as he raced himself to the balcony to check on the sheets. He looked at her from outside of the glass doors. “Midias BlaRa-Zeldgar! There’s no chance you’re bringing them inside until they’re dry!”

“That’s going to take hours. Let me bring them in now, and then put them by the heater.” He called out.

“And start a fire? No way in hell. Leave them outside, I have an air mattress somewhere in the closet, I think.”

“All the more reason for you to clean it out tonight.”

“…Shut up and eat your breakfast.”

Midias woke up in a sleeping bag on the dreaded couch the second day. The sheets were still drying outside, and his neck wasn’t so sore that sleeping in his annoying host’s bed was preferable. Even so, he woke up at the same time as he usually did, and got back to the task he had gone to bed with; Cleaning out the closets of his host, because she couldn’t be bothered to do so herself and he had nothing better to do with his time without his laptop and wallet, things he realized his father had taken from him when he left.

He had made her sit down with him to finish a few projects- the first closet, her pantry, which he found was oddly well-maintained, and the closet in the main bathroom- But he had taken it upon himself to sort her art supplies into boxes. Or, at least, into slightly more organized piles on the counter. The woman in question walked out when he had managed to separate the paints from the colored pencils from the paper. She immediately entered her room, and left again afterward, holding her phone. She put it down in front of him, already set to call someone named ‘Problem Mecanic’ He raised an eyebrow at her as she opened the fridge.

“He’s your cousin, you convince him to get over here and fix the laundry machine. Maybe you’ll actually get a bed if you do.” She made breakfast, the same thing as the previous day, it seemed. Midias did put the phone on speakerphone once he found Kiearan² picking up.

“Fix the dryer.”

“Good to know you’re already feeling at home in Kuku’s house. Your dryer now, too, huh?” Kuri stuck her tongue out at the phone, and Midias sighed.

“We don’t have anyone else- Wait, Kuronushi, do we have anyone else?”

“Call me Kuri. Also, no, Tiri’s on the vacation with with your dads.” She tried to restrain her laughter as Kiearan, who held no such boundaries, asked,

“Wait, they brought Neytiri and not you?! Damn, Mid, your dads must be desperate for you to get a girlfriend if they dump you here!” Midias felt his eye twitch.

“I am not desperate-”

“I will tell you the entire story if you come over and fix my dryer.” She bargained, “Including who else out of Tiri’s harem was brought with them for a double date, plus the actual third wheel.” Kiearan gasped,

“Seriously? Get those soaked sheets off your countertop, or bed if that’s the problem,” Midias just rolled his eyes, mentally praying that someone would strike his cousin down the moment he finished getting a bed to sleep on, though at that point he was weighing if the bed was even worth it, “And I’ll be coming to fix it!”

“They're outside if you must know. Haven’t been on a bed in a couple of months, assuming how smushed they were in the closet.” Kuri shrugged.

“Really? You better tell me what clothespins you use as a tip, then. Mom’s been complaining all morning that all her laundry blew away in the storm last night.” Midias just looked at Kuri as she walked to the balcony. She walked back again after checking.

“Change of plans, no sheets this morning. I’ll pay for pizza if you pick some up on the way here, Kiki.” Midias was about to strangle someone. Kiearan laughed manically from the other line.

Midias woke up with twin sheets awkwardly pulled over half a full-sized bed because, of course, that’s what his cousin bought. Although, it was more like a quarter by the time he woke up. Kiearan hadn’t stayed over but had promised that he would the next night, along with Tartaglia³. How wonderful…

Midias got up, and this time went to the kitchen himself, which was now tidy enough for him to be able to tell where everything was. Right on time, nearly an hour later Kuri woke up, her phone being dropped on his head as he was working on the toaster.

“Thanks, Mid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ah, so your cousin comes up with names to annoy all of us, huh?” She giggled, putting her chin on top of his head as he cooked. “What about Midusha, then?” He raised an eyebrow but sighed as she pulled him to the side slightly so she could keep resting on him but still get the jelly.

“You’re in charge of cleaning breakfast up today. I’m the one cooking.” She nodded, and he slid her phone off his head onto her shoulder as she walked away. “Why’d you do that?”

“You’ve got good balance, according to your father. I wanted to see if it was a posture thing.” She shrugged, getting out plates and things. “By the way, the pullout mattress is only made to handle two. Someone’s going to have to sleep on the floor.”

“There is no way that, after sleeping on a couch two nights, I’m sleeping on the floor.” He glared at the egg, imagining it was his cousin, as Kuri chuckled lightly.

“My bed’s always open, you know. I wouldn’t mind someone as cute as you in it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But stop flirting, I don’t like flings.” She nodded and went back to setting the table.

“Well, there’s no way Tartaglia’s giving up a bed, Kiearan’s annoying and would rather you sleep on the floor, and I ain’t letting them in my bed after the last incident- Don’t ask-” He was going to ask as soon as he got the chance once he had a bed, “So it’s me, the floor, or what’ll probably end up being a mattress on the floor after a few hours.”

“The couch will be fine. There’s nothing wrong with us using the couch, it can fit three people. It’s a big couch, and it’s leather. It can do it.” Kuri smothered a laugh with her coffee mug, very unconvincingly as it was still empty.

“Sure…”

“Has it broken yet?” She giggled again, and Midias took a deep breath. “Has it killed anyone?”

“-No…” She trailed off in laughter again, as if she was imagining something and remembering an event simultaneously. Midias took a deep breath. Assuming it wasn’t a death trap, which she confirmed, he would sleep on a bed with sheets on it at some point this week.

Midias was wrong. It was a death trap. He woke up after Tartaglia cut himself on the exposed strong at four in the morning after the bed fell to the floor a few hours earlier. And so here he was, at five in the morning, a time too early for a god to be awake in his opinion, sitting on one of the badly-painted chairs as Tartaglia whined about his quote “boo-boo”.

“Kuri, it hurts!!!” He said as the lady wrapped a bandage around his finger. She was laughing, but still disinfecting it for the baffon’s wound. Kiearan nodded sagely,

“You should kiss it better. You’re basically his mother already.” Kuri scoffed, and Tartaglia gasped in return.

“But mother! I thought you cared for me!”

“I ain’t your mama, Tartagles. I will bandage your cuts because I’m liable to be sued if not, but I’m not gonna kiss them. As for the other two, one of you has got to get that mattress into the street. The garbage truck comes by in two hours.” Midias did not look up from his cup of coffee and the blanket wrapped around him.

“No.”

“I hate to say I told you so, but… I told you so.” Midias wrapped the blanker he was wearing around himself and over his head tighter.

“You’ve said nothing else for me to believe for every day I’ve known you.”

“You’re just pissed she beat you in Uno.” Kiearan unhelpfully added. Kuri chuckled as she pulled away from Tartaglia to get herself coffee, from the machine Kiearan had managed to clean up and fix from the various craft supplies that were piled up on it.

“Also pissed he didn’t take me up on my offer to sleep in my bed. Pissy you chose the death mattress over a big bed with a pretty lady that you could sleep in on, huh?” She teased, hip-checking him as both other guys gasped.

“Betrayal!” Kiearan screamed, getting a whack from Tartaglia.

“No! Worse than betrayal! They have a secret love affair!” Kiearan gasped again, leaning into Tartaglia, who had forgotten about the horrible pain he’d been experiencing a moment own. The two men were acting like ladies in old horror novels; Horrible dramatic and likely to die or turn into a vampire first. “Next thing we know, we’ll be seeing a child, fully grown, pop out of the closet.”

“Where would I even keep a baby in here?”

“No, a middle schooler-!”

“I’m 23-”

“And he’ll be in the closet! You will store him there because you’re a horrible mother! You didn’t even kiss my wound, which I got from your faulty couch bed!” Meanwhile, Kiearan got a song loaded up on his phone. Midias stood up from the table, blanket trailing behind him.

“I’m going into your room.”

“Ze sweet caress of twilight… There's magic everywhere… And with all this romantic atmosphere…” Kuri followed up behind him to escape the other men, currently singing their hearts out.

“We both are.”

“Disaster's in the air!” The annoyances screamed in unison, Midias groaned, and Kuri just shoved him into her room.

Midias woke up at noon from an alarm blaring, this time in an actual bed. There was a set of pillows placed in the center of the bed, and he had just the crouch’s blanket rather than sheets over him, but it was still better than the horrors he had suffered over the past few nights. He heard someone padding over to him before he could open his eyes, and turning off the horrid sounds. He groaned, sitting up slightly.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” She teased, as he sat up.

“‘Morning. Are they still here?”

“Unfortunately. But not at the moment, they left to go pick up a pizza. I was just grabbing some clothes.” She giggled, her voice still much softer than normal. “Good to know you’re still your grouchy self in the morning.” He sat up, yawning.

“Cool. How much do I owe you for it.”

“Nothing, I keep telling you that. Besides, your dad keeps sending me money against my will. He won’t stop, something about how I never accept in person.” She shrugged as he raised an eyebrow, “I like talking to him, so I do most of their tattoos for free. Not like I need the money. But they caught on that I was only charging them, like, a dollar per time, and now your dad’s being annoying about giving for free. That’s probably why they dumped you here, other than so they could get some alone time.”

“So just accept their money so I don’t have to stay over with you again…”

“And here I was, thinking the fact that you didn’t care for the pillow barrier meant we were closer… I guess not.” She teased, sighing and putting a hand over her chest.

“…Huh?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“What… Did I say?” He asked, standing up and getting slightly red, ready to leave.

“Hm… Not telling!” She raced from the bed into the bathroom, as he gave chase. She managed to lock herself inside, though she was fiddling with the door handle. “Come on, you’re not gonna break in here, huh? It’s a girl’s bathroom, with a girl inside!”

“Gender means nothing when you’re keeping information from me!”

“And here I was, thinking you were a gentleman. Come on, it was cute!”

“Shut up! Just tell me what I said!”

“Something nice! It’s my secret!”

“Kuri!” She laughed at his exasperation, and when she spoke she enunciated every syllable, song-like in tone.

“Midusha!”⁴

Midias couldn’t wake up on the fifth day because he hadn’t slept. Instead, the night had been spent playing games, far more than Midias wanted, and later on, binging a show on the floor.⁵ So that was where he found himself as the clock struck three in the morning, buried in the arms of Kuri, with Kiearan on his other side sleeping and Tartaglia also awake with an arm around the two of them. Kuri sighed, speaking for the first time in a few hours, her voice soft from lack of use.

“I want to sleep with her husband.”

“I don’t. He’s the worst. He has no form of boundaries, he’s generally disrespectful, and he killed her in their past life. She has flashbacks, Kuri. He’s a bad partner in every way.” Midias whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, and his brother’s hotter. I mean, I look better than both of them combined, but his brother is still more attractive.”

“But he’s so pretty… Everyone in that show is so pretty…” She sighed, looking at Midias for a moment. “Kyle’s the prettiest. Blue eyes and white hair are a good combination.”

“I don’t care who you think is the best for her, we’ve barely met him at this point, but the male lead’s brother?! Tartaglia, what do you think you’re doing? Why would she date him, she clearly thinks of herself as his big sister!” He hissed, clearly more instead in the argument against the brother than against Kyle, as Tartaglia responded,

“Because he wants her happiness, I guess? Kuri, stop trying to hit on Mid over here and step in. It’s one of those tragic love stories you like, right?”

“Hitting on me? How?” Midias squawked, and Kuri sighed dreamily.

“Yep. He can love her all he wants, but so does the one person he wants to see the happiest. It’s a classic tale of star-crossed lovers… Honestly, most of the stories in this world fall under that umbrella, considering the male lead holds her so tight she can’t leave.”

“Because he’s a bad option!”

“Just get rid of them all. Date that Marie lady or something…”

“No!” Was shouted at the man previously thought to be asleep in unison, followed by a scream from across the street, carrying through the open window.

“Can you please stop yelling?! Some of us need to sleep out here, and you’re so loud!” Came the voice of an older woman, followed by Tartaglia trying to resist a snort. Kiearan soon followed suit, as Kuri put a hand over her mouth in mild restraint. Midias raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t tell me Miss Annie had an apartment behind you. I thought it was a few blocks away.” He answered when he saw the question in her eyes. “My father has met her before. I went along for the ride, much like I did with you.”

“Good to know I’m not the first lady your father’s set you up with. Anyway, we don’t talk about her often. She doesn’t like us.” Kuri shrugged. Kiearan barked out a laugh.

“Dislike us? She hates us. Especially Tartaglia, and kind of you because you live here.”

“Well, I can understand why someone would hate Tartaglia. But you, Kuri?”

“First, rude.” Came Tartaglia’s response, “Also, she’s as responsible as I am for throwing the couch out the window.”

“…You did… What? Pardon?”

“Just be glad he’s changed his tune, Tartagles. Also, I told you the couch wouldn’t hold up. He did toss it out the window and almost hit her.” She put her cheek on the top of his head and draped the rest of herself over him as she went on, “It was my idea. But for the record, I said ‘Maybe let’s drop it out the back so we don’t have to carry it out and I can make room for a new one’ and Tartaglia heard ‘Throw it onto the sidewalk!’.” She waved her hands as she finished the sentence, Tartaglia putting one over his chest and gasping, fictional pearls clutched in horror.

“How could you say such a thing! And after I brought it back in to dispose of the evidence!” Midias gave Kuri a dirty look, unhappy about the new information about the sleeping arrangements he was given as she pushed into him a bit more. “Why, Kuri, how could you… Kiearan! Defend my honor!” Kiearan sat up, pillow in hand. Kuri ducked her head behind the grouchier man.

“Noo! You must fight my knight instead! Go, Midias! Attack!”

“No.”

“I’ll give you something in return?”

“Like a kiss!” Tartaglia unhelpfully supplied, as Midias groaned and Kuri smiled slyly.

“I will not be called to action like a Pokemon after you made me sleep on a bed that was tossed out a window at some point, without telling me that crucial piece of information, might I add.” Midias eyed Tartaglia for a moment, “Well, more like heaved, I-” He was met with a pillow to his face, effectively smothered by his taller cousin.

“This is a battle! No slacking off, Mid! I will defeat you and defend the honor of the princess!” He laughed. Midias kicked him, nabbing his own throw pillow and whacking back.

“I’m not involved!”

“Then don’t hit me!” He laughed, the other guy groaning as Tartaglia whooped lightly from the background. Kuri was giggling, until she was hit by one of the two newly-appointed knights, and jumped to her own defense, with Tartaglia only joining in once they were close enough together for him to jump on top of the three.

Kuri adjusted to wrap her arms around the shortest of the four, Kiearan added himself to it by grabbing the other three. Midias struggled lightly, though with no real power behind his actions. “Let me go, I did not consent to this.”

“Nope. It’s a cuddle pile, Midusha. We’re going to sleep now.” She snuggled into him a bit as he huffed, but relaxed into the shared hold until Tartaglia headbutted him.

“Woohoo! Midias actually wants to do something with others that isn’t work!” He stuck his tongue out at the redhead, who wiggled his eyebrows back. “Put that away or I’ll tell Kuri to bite ya.” She rolled her eyes, though a chuckle escaped her.

“He didn’t win, so no kiss for him.” Kiearan booed lightly, in unison with Tartaglia, who was huffing and puffing now, equally as horrified as he was at the start of the battle.

“And yet I won, but I get no kiss! I haven’t got a kiss since we were five, Kuri. Five! And yet you offer the Жoпа⁶ one. Betrayal, Kuri, betrayal…” He rolled off of them, as Kiearan tossed a pillow at him.

“No! You’re the princess, I’m supposed to save you from the evil witch or whatever! Stop falling in love!” He jokingly called out, though turned a bit more serious as the two men went back to over whatever make-believe conflicts they needed to sort out. Kuri giggled softly but led Midias away, slipping out before the guys could move their focus to anything but each other.

“Come on, into my room. Before they can bring us into their problems.” She whispered, opening the door to her bedroom and then locking it behind her. Midias flopped onto the bed, Kuri copying his movements on the other side. “You only need to kick the blankets onto you now. Isn’t my aversion to chores wonderful?”

“No. You still need to organize your bathroom closet and actual closet.”

“I’d still let you do either.”

“I still don’t want to think of what I’d find in either of those, considering the boxes fallen on me when it’s a closet you don’t use often.” He huffed into the sheets. She leaned over to him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for it, by the way.”

“You said you wanted a worker when my father sent me here. And your shop’s closed, but I’ve still got to pay you back for letting me stay here somehow. Don’t thank me.” She placed a kiss on his cheek. He rolled away. “Especially not like that. I’m not interested in a fling or break-long romance, nor am I interested in receiving any form of favor for you, even if you think my work was unnecessary.”

“That was a participation award.” She tapped the back of his head, which was now facing her, although her body moved back slightly to account for his alleged lack of desire. “For the pillow fight. Why do you have your bangs like you do, anyway? You’ve got that long strand in the middle.”

“None of your business.” Came the curt yet quick reply. She led her hand down the front of his face, over to his nose, before curling the strand likely. “What are you doing…?” Was spoken in a soft tone, mildly skittish, and yet seemly unwilling to waver.

“Close your eyes. You go to sleep pretty early, right? Whenever you aren’t working on your papers. That’s what your dads told me. So, you should go to bed.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re touching me.”

“Are your eyes closed? I can’t tell.”

“Yes, Kuri, just answer me!” He sounded mildly agitated, voice rushed and hissed, though equal parts flustered, a nervousness not often heard.

“My mom used to do this for me, back when I was a kid. She’s just… Rub my face, and said that she was sprinkling pixie dust to make me go to bed faster. You were tense, and it always made me relax. Still kind of does.” She whispered. “You okay with that? Doesn’t have to be a romantic thing. I just want you to get a good night's rest.”

“…Okay.” He said softly, letting her fingers dance over his face. She hummed lightly, her voice slightly raised with the whispers of a nursery rhyme. Although, he couldn’t stay awake for long enough to hear the end. She was right in one way; The movements did send him to sleep quickly. So much so, that she had enough energy left in her for a kiss on his other cheek before she joined him in dreamland.

The past day had been quite lazy for Midias, though not boring. He’d only gotten up at nearly four in the afternoon, and since then had barely wobbled around the house. He was tired, and so were the other members of the household he had found himself a part of. Although, his one benefit was the ability to sleep on an actual bed, which he did much. The only other entertainment was the binge of a second TV show, this time one he had some say in choosing, done while snuggled into a comforter built for the cold winters he hadn’t suffered, was a wonderful way to spend his final day with the woman he’d grown the enjoy the presence. After all, he’d be called home late on the seventh day, assuming all went well with his fathers and their friends’ flight. That is until the serene peace of fluffy blankets, tasty chocolates, and horrible K-dramas was broken by a terrible, horrible man.

“Kuku, I want your wine cabinet!” Came the voice of a white-haired menace to society from outside the door that’d been locked after the last trip out of her room for the soda she was drinking.

“No, no one is going day-drinking today! You’re going to leave my house or let me relax! I’m not calling your mom or driving you home because you’re brain’s not attached to your body!” She called back. Midias moved slightly from his place with his arm around her neck to have his cheek on her shoulder, as she moved her head onto his. He looked up at her, ignoring the indigent screams from outside of the bedroom.

“You really like doing that.” He observed, noting how she resisted shrugging to keep him steady. A small but sweet gesture that didn’t go unappreciated or unnoticed.

“You’re at a good height for it.” She responded, nuzzling into him. He pushed back into her for a moment, before the knocking started up again. He groaned this time and yelled back.

“Get out of the apartment!” He screamed at the door, leaning forward just enough that he wasn’t yelling directly into her.

“It’s not your house! You come here less often than me!” The response of the redhead came from the other side of the door.

“I don’t care! Leave!”

“Why, so you can go smooch your girlfriend all alone? What’re you gonna do when we’re gone, huh? Kiss her? Be romantic?” The second buffoon questioned through the door.

“Yes, he will! So leave! I don’t want you in the house for that!” Kuri teasingly shouted back, “If you’re my son, go to your father so I can kiss your stepdad in peace!” She laughed, and Midias lightly smacked her arm and Tartaglia gasped.

“But Mother! Keriug hates me! You want me to go live with my horrible, terrible father with his nearly abusive and archaic rules?!”

“Like not letting you have ice cream and cheese sticks for dinner?⁷” Kiearan gasped this time.

“You let him do that?! I thought that healthy eating was important! I’m visiting my father now, and you’ll hear from his lawyers that edits to the custody agreement we once had!”

“Tell him I only want visitation!” She finished, hearing the front door open and close afterward. She then turned back to the show and draped herself over Midias once more. “Finally at peace…”

“What…? Keruig’s his brother, not- You know what, I do not care. Where were we in the show?”

“Greg’s drinking song.⁸” She answered as Midias returned to his former position next to her. “Anything you want me to get sent to the house? It’s like, what, four pm? We’ve got to think about dinner, and we went through the pizza with everyone last night.”

“I don’t care too much, it’s your house. You’ve got a bunch of cooking stuff, why don’t you make something?”

“That’s for baking. A very different skill, considering the cakes I can make and the poisons I’ve managed to inflict upon myself.” She gently rubbed her cheek into him again, “Besides, it’s your last day in my house. You should choose.”

“It’s your house overall. And I thought I wasn’t supposed to live off of nothing but takeout?” He responded.

“Yeah, and we’ve had plenty of healthy things before for this week. Like eggs, or soup.”

“By soup, you mean instant ramen, I assume? Anyway, it’s, once again, your house. I’m not making you get deliveries for me. I’ll just have whatever you normally do.”

“That would be instant ramen.” She said, “You know, if you married me, it’d be our house.”

“I will not marry you.”

“You wanted commitment.” She giggled, and he elbowed her slightly.

“Yes, as in long-term, not marriage.”

“I heard a yes.” Midias groaned,

“The answer is no.”

“Why?”

“I’ve known you for a week. Less than that, in fact.”

“Good point. How far away do you want the wedding to be.”

“A while. At least six months.”

“Lilies or roses?”

“Roses.”

“What kind of metal for the rings?”

“I’m not marrying you!” He exclaimed, exasperation sneaking into his tone. “I’d like to date for at least a few months first.” She blinked at him.

“I know. You said six.”

“If I want to, I’ll propose.”

“And I’m proposing.” He raised an eyebrow, but after staring at her for a moment, sighed.

“Plan for a year or more ahead. And no throwing money into it for at least the first six months.” He said. She nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “Also, silver, assuming that would go with all of your jewelry as well.”

“It would. I have mostly black gold, but plenty of silver, too.” She nuzzled him again, arms going around him. “What season for the wedding?”

“We can plan this closer to the date.”

“At least tell me if you want a big or small one?”

“I’ve got a lot of family, and I believe you do, as well. So, it would have to be a big one.” He answered. “But that’s the last question. Nothing else.”

“Just one more…” She pleaded before he hit his head into hers tenderly.

“No!”

On the last day, Midias woke up in a sea of blankets with a body wrapped around him and vice versa. However, what he woke up from was the rapid ringing of a doorbell. He tried to sit up, though was quickly pulled back into bed.

“Kuri, let go. I have to get the door. Let go.”

“No… It’s still bedtime, Рыбка…⁹”

“Kuri, it’s probably my dads. ”

“But it’s so early…”

“It’s,” He checked the time, “Ten in the morning.”

“That’s too early…” She muttered, not letting go. “Come back to bed with me. Your wifey misses you…”

“You can’t miss me. I haven’t left yet.” He patted her head before attempting to gently pry her arms off of him. “But I probably need to go now…”

“Alei has an emergency key…” She mumbled, clearly not deterred by his actions, still set on keeping him in bed.

“Do you want Father to know that Dad has a key?” He asked, which seemed to convince her enough to let him leave. “Thank you.”

“You come back here right after you’re done talking…”

“I have schoolwork to do, Kuri. I’m going to the library, most likely.”

“No…” She sat up, yawning.

“You didn’t listen when I told you that to marriage.”

“You love me anyway.” He held the door open for her, and she walked through it.

“I’ve known you for seven days Kuri. It’s not realistic to say ‘I love you’ after that. Give it a few weeks, or months.”

“It’s actually been a week now. You want a prize for that?” She asked. He raised an eyebrow,

“What kind of prize?”

“Kisses.” She supplied, a small smile dancing on her lips. He paused, flushing slightly.

“Very well. May I have my prize now, before Dad comes in or breaks your doorbell?”

“Part of it.” She nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears. “You get a free subscription plan for a while.”

“How long?” He asked, leaning against the door to her room, though he already knew the answer.

“As long as you want. I’d prefer ‘till death do we part.”

“I think I can work with that.” She leaned down, and for a moment, it was perfect. No cousins or childhood friends, no obnoxious doorbells or overly complicated attempts from parents to set them up. Just a kiss, the most wonderful gift from their adventure together and the start of another.

“Fe, wait. Maybe they’re sleeping in…” Alei asked, his husband still ringing the doorbell like a maniac.

“Midias doesn’t sleep in.”

“Well, he’s 19 now. Maybe he’s starting to, teenagers do that sometimes.” He put a hand over his shoulder, going on his to see into the house through the peephole. “Besides, we don’t need him until dinner. Neytiri, Rena, and Selena are all going home to sleep, remember? We-” He gasped, a hand going over his mouth to hide his smile.

“What?”

“I was right. They’re perfect for each other.” He fist-bumped the air, “Our Midi has a girlfriend!”

“Let’s hope it stays that way. My bet’s on they’re married within the year.”

“Hm… Give them at least two. Midi will probably want to be graduated first.” He smiled, as Fefe shook his head. “Agree to disagree?”

“Never. We’ve got two hopeless romantics that I’ve heard ask about each other before. It’ll be a miracle if Kuri doesn’t drag him to a courthouse by the end of the month.” He smiled widely at Alei, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “In return for that outcome, I will be ringing her doorbell to oblivion.”

“So we’re giving him away?” Fefe shook his head.

“No, we’re stealing Kuri.”

[1] The chairs were painted by Kuri (adult), Klee and Julian (children), and Tartaglia (very incompetent adult)

[2] As a side note, I hate writing Kiearans' name because I can never spell it right. It always goes badly until I check it with the Notable Characters document. It has more vowels than God intended for anything but the French language, and I hate attempting to spell it.

[3] Tar-Tar-Taglia lover of Sneznaya Queen. There was a cat that really was gone. Tar-Tar-Taglia lover of Sneznaya Queen. It was a shame how he carried on.

[4] “Midusha” is “Midias” and the Russian suffix for names “-Usha”. It roughly translates to “cute Midi,” and is a common way that people in Russia will refer to those that they are in a relationship with. But I “englished” it so it didn’t break up the flow of the sentence or words. Please note I don’t speak Russian much if you can even count me being able to kind of tell what certain words mean as “speaking it”, so I could be wrong with something there.

[5] They’re watching The Seventh Time Loop. I stand with Midias and Tartaglia in this case, the main character’s husband deserves to be put to death, even if my own Dnd character supports the other side because that one’s more in character for her. I do not hate characters easily, but he’s right up there with Trey Clover in “Characters I Want to Watch Burn”. He is the worst person, he constantly disrespects her, and when he killed her in his previous life it clearly traumatized her. It would be one thing if it happened and got glossed over which is just slightly dumb writing, but she’s shown to have panic attacks and explicitly tells him not to touch her as one of her conditions when he makes her marry him, and then he goes and does it anyway constantly. I can’t even complain about it after she permits him, but before she does, he is in the wrong, and even afterward she still gets the panic attacks! She’s still scared of him! And every side male lead except for the main love interest brother is also the worst as far as I can tell! This isn’t even angry ranting this is sad and dejected ranting from someone betrayed by a beautiful art style and adorably cliche plot description! (Although I haven’t finished it yet, I stopped watching out of anger around episode 8 right before writing this story.)

[6] Russian for “brat” or “ass”. It’s more of a term of endearment or said in a joking way than an actual insult, though, as far as I can tell.

[X] https://www.mamalisa.com/?t=es&p=6584 - A Russian nursery rhyme, translated by the aforementioned website. I know a surprising amount of Russian nursery rhymes for someone who can not speak Russian and has no desire to visit the country. (Though I no longer have the movements memorized) The scene for this got axed, but I wanted to include this anyway because it’s a cute nursery rhyme I want to share.

[7] The best dinner. Vanilla is the best ice cream flavor and I will die on this hill. I have a lot of hills I’m dying on today, it seems.

[8] Greg’s Drinking Song is the best song to ever be made. There is no competition for its beauty. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is hilarious. The other good songs that I recommend are Face Your Fears and A Boy Band Made Up Of Four Joshes. I think most of my friends would tell you to listen to I’m So Good At Yoga, though.

[9] Рыбка means “little fish” in Russian. It’s just a common pet name (pun intended)

This was pretty fun to write. It was going to be a yandere fic because my DM recently told me that was in character for my girl’s (Kuri) husband, but then I got really inspired by @solxamber’s work and decided to change course while writing the first day. I should edit the beginning more since it’s still kinda clunky, but at this point, I’m going to scream if I have to look at anything in this fic for a minute more. It’s been in the oven for a bunch of weeks now and I’m done with it.

As always, comments, reblogs, and asks are welcome. Requests are open. PLEASE send me requests or comments, I love reading them and testing my writing out with different prompts. I’m more scared of you than you are of me, I promise. If you want to see more of these characters please comment, I’ll probably post more of my works for them if this gets attention. Who knows, I might even bring out the two DND campaigns I run to talk about… :)

#tbh I have no idea what to tag this with #dnd character #dnd fanfiction #original character #fluff

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mrsparkjimin18 · 2 years ago

Text

Starting Over: Revamped

✎ pairing: non-idol! Jimin x OC

✎ au/genre: non-idol au, angst, smut, e2l

✎ rating: MA

✎ wc: 3751

✎ warnings: lack of communication leads to misunderstandings, accidental stimulation, graphic language and explicit sexual content, make-up sex ✎an: a big thanks to @downbad4yoongi and @moonleeai for their great feedback and editing at the last minute! This retake of one of my first network stories never would've been possible without you too!!!

Summary: When an ex reaches out for closure, Serenity is unsure of how things will play out, and even more unsure of how she wants them to be. Will he finally get the closure he needs?

“Why did I agree to this?” Serenity asks herself over and over again, even now after she boards the plane. On the one hand, she spent four years of her life with him, on the other hand, it was a horrible breakup, and many issues were left unresolved.

It’s been almost a year since she’s seen him, even longer since they’ve actually talked, but last month he reached out to her. She blocked him on all social media, changed her number, and even moved back to the states to create as much distance as possible from him. Nevertheless, her sister ran into him while on vacation and said he begged for her number– of course she gave it to him, insisting it was the right thing to do since he’d told her a conversation was all he desired.

Here she is, a month later, on a flight he paid for. She thought he’d make a million excuses before she agreed to see him, but surprisingly he only had one, “I need to see you, I need closure, you need closure, and we won’t get that over the phone.” She was reluctant, but she agreed only on the condition that he pay for her flight – he caught her off guard by also paying for her Airbnb.

After retrieving her luggage and securing a taxi, Serenity’s mind was wandering with ideas of what he possibly has to say that’s too important to be said over the phone.

He should’ve said what he needed to before he stormed out of their apartment that day. He left her with rent and bills she couldn’t afford to pay, and at the time, she refused to admit her fault in their breakup.

She now realizes it was wrong to only blame him because she hadn’t made an effort to communicate then either. Nevertheless, the fact that he wants to actually talk in person and get closure – lack of communication being the main issue throughout their entire relationship – may help mend the open wounds they were both left with so abruptly. Serenity’s in dire need of a vacation anyway, so she plans to revel in this rare opportunity.

She unpacks and settles in at the Airbnb, the home isn’t your typical South Korean Hanok, but she’s falling in love with the intricate details. Serenity can see the owners took pride in keeping some of the small intricate details of the home while renovating it, utilizing the size of the large yard to add a pool and hot tub. The stylish modern kitchen was an added touch that she didn’t expect - definitely something she plans to have in her future home. They even kept the old doors and entry gate, refurbishing them to their original state and still using a key to enter rather than a keypad entry system.

She texts Jimin letting him know that she’s arrived and is settled in, he responds to let her know he’s in a meeting and when he finishes up there, he’ll be on his way.

“On his way? Wasn’t aware I’d have to see him the first day I arrive,” she grumbles, staring at her phone. She sends a thumbs-up emoji back, but she actually wants to send an angry face.

She showers and chooses the perfect outfit to show him exactly what he’s been missing – a tight chiffon button-up with the top three buttons undone, black lace longline balconette bra, and black skinny jeans paired with her favorite black stiletto heels that make her stand almost as tall as him. She hopes they'll go somewhere public–contemplates suggesting it– she wants him to know, to see, that he left the best woman any man would beg to be with.

Her phone dings with a text from Jimin informing her of his ETA, and panic sets in – is she really ready to see him? Frantically, she searches the kitchen, finding a fully stocked wine fridge, and grabs the best bottle she can find. She returns to the living room with two glasses, staging the coffee table for his arrival.

She waits patiently for his arrival, scrolling through social media, double-tapping pictures of her friends partying back home. Quickly growing bored with her phone, she begins looking around the house, her first stop the kitchen, rummaging through drawers and cabinets, and finding the refrigerator unusually full of fresh groceries.

She turns around and is surprised to see Jimin walk in without knocking, dropping a set of keys on the entryway table, and he flashes that unforgettable smile at her.

She makes her way around the kitchen island, her hair exactly the way he loves it - half up in a bun, the rest hanging down her back - her makeup is flawless, and she smiles a welcoming smile back as he approaches her.

“Serenity, it’s been so long, but you still look...stunning,” Jimin pauses, looking her up and down, taking in every inch of her. “I’m glad you decided to come.” He wraps his arms around her and hugs her firmly. She returns his hug, inhaling his familiar scent, and feels like she could melt in his arms.

“Jimin, you still look great as well, I see life’s been treating you well. Care for a glass of wine?” She asks, peeling herself away from the hug before she’s lost in him again, and walks over to pour the glasses of wine. He nods in acceptance.

He swirls the glass of red wine around before bringing the rim to his lips, tipping the glass back, he finishes it in nearly a single swallow.

“Ahhh…Okay, I need to shower and change into something a little less stiff…” Again, Jimin looks her up and down. “I need to match your vibe, and I’ve been in this suit all day.” She wasn’t expecting him to leave so abruptly, just as she didn’t expect him to show up unexpectedly.

“How long do you think you’ll be? How far is your house from here? I’m only asking because I don’t want to get too drunk before you come back,” she laughs nervously.

He shoots her that devious smile she came to miss over time, “I am home, this…” Jimin makes a sweeping motion with his hands, “...is my home, I assumed you would’ve figured that out when you arrived. Did you not go into the bedroom on this floor?”

A small ping of irritation and anger ran up her spine. Rather than just allow her to reserve her own hotel or Airbnb, he was insistent on getting it for her – only to have her stay at his private home?

“No, I didn’t realize there was a room down here. I went directly upstairs and picked the largest room that I could only assume was the Master suite… Why didn’t you just tell me I would be staying in your home?”

“Honestly, because I knew you wouldn’t come here if I’d told you this was my house. I said I have a house you can stay at, I never said I was renting one.” Putting his hands up, placating, “I should’ve been forthcoming from the beginning, though. I can still book you a room or rent you a place if you’d prefer.”

Serenity can’t help but notice how sad he looks, not that she should care, but she doesn’t mind the house or the location. Rather than pack her belongings and let the petty urge tell him to find her another place, she gives in.

“No, it’s fine, Jimin. I’m already unpacked and settled in, it would be ridiculous for me to leave now, it’s not like I’m here for months.” She gives him a warning glare before continuing, “However, we’ll stay in separate rooms, and don’t try to sneak into my room in the middle of the night…unless I invite you.”

Her hand slaps over her mouth and embarrassment begins to settle in. She winks at him, a feeble attempt to play it off, and downs the rest of her wine. She can’t lie, watching his eyes go from soft and sincere to dark and fiery, brings a sense of satisfaction.

“Okay, I can respect that.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth turning up devilishly. “I’ll clean up and get dressed so we talk while finishing that bottle of wine, maybe even go into the city a little later?” She smiles and nods in silent agreement pouring another glass of wine, his smile broadens, and he quickly disappears down the hallway.

A bottle of wine and a little over an hour later, laughter fills the once-quiet house.

“Jimin! You still have the same sense of humor I see. I'm glad you find it funny that I ended up with such an eccentric roommate, but once I got to know her, she turned out to be pretty cool and easy to talk to!” Serenity pauses to fill her glass again, “Soooo, what’s new with you? Any lucky lady in your life now? You can tell me, my jealous tendencies are long gone now, I finally realized what I can bring to the table, so if a man can’t accept my greatness, then he can have whatever peasant he decides. However, he will never be able to forget this Queen, so, his loss.”

She drunkenly brought her glass to her lips and in her tipsy state, forgot she just gave herself a refill. The wine rushes out of the glass onto her face and inevitably onto her white shirt, a bright red blotch spreads quickly across her chest.

“Shit! This is a new shirt!”

Jimin quickly runs into the kitchen, grabbing a towel and club soda, rushing back over to help remove the stain. He was no more sober than her, so without thinking, he begins frantically pouring the club soda directly onto the stain, blotting and rubbing her chest with the towel.

The shirt hugs her breasts exactly where the stain is. He makes an effort to be gentle, but when he begins wiping at the stain, she lets out a tiny gasp. Jimin’s eyes meet hers, and she can only grimace and say, “It’s cold.”

The club soda seeps through, stimulating her nipples into tight buds. Wearing an unlined, lace bra was by far the sexiest option, but she didn’t expect this to happen. Jimin continues to rub in tiny circles trying to get the wine out.

When he pulls the towel away to see if he’s making a difference, he notices her erect nipples poking through her shirt and freezes. She looks down, her face flushes a light shade of red from slight embarrassment, but the look on his face tells a different story.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants, beginning to harden at the sight that is literally staring him in the face. He avoids the urge, placing the wet towel at the front of his pants, attempting to conceal his forming erection. She pretends not to notice, diverting her attention to her shirt.

“You know what? I can always buy another one…” She desperately wants to widen the space between herself and Jimin, “I’ll go change and then you can show me around the city, sound like a plan?”

Jimin nods in agreement, “I’ll put it in the wash right away, maybe there’s still hope to remove the rest of the wine.”

Serenity smiles coyly before heading upstairs to change. She quickly strips down to just her bra that reeks of wine and her matching panties, standing at the closet, rummaging through her clothes, trying to decide what to wear.

“For fucks sake, I brought enough clothes to last six months here!” Rather than frustrate herself more, she changes into a new bra and panties – open lace-back panties with matching lace balconette.

“Still look good in cheeky panties I see.” Jimin’s voice startles her, and she grabs the nearest article of clothing to cover herself. “I’ve seen you naked before, up close and personal at that.”

“Yeah…well…that’s when we were together, and we’re not now, so can I get a little bit of privacy?” Her cheeks burn with timidity.

“I actually came up here to get the shirt, you don’t want the stain to set, do you?” Grabbing the shirt from the floor where she tossed it, Jimin exits the room, closing the door behind him.

Finally picking something to wear, she pulls on her knee-high stilettos that match the outfit perfectly and makes her way downstairs.

“Jimin, where are you? I need you to zip up my–” All train of thought is lost when she sees him. The Edison bulbs above the kitchen island make his sun-kissed skin glow, his hair perfectly swept back, black Dior ensemble from head to toe, looking positively fabulous.

With a few strides, he’s in front of her, gently grabbing her arm and turning her around to zip up her dress.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

“Shall we?” Jimin gestures toward the front door.

After walking around the city streets, enjoying food from the street vendors, they end up in a small second-floor pub. The dim light over the corner booth offers seclusion and privacy from the other patrons, enabling them with the opportunity to finally talk.

“Jimin, I know things ended horribly,” she begins, “but I’ve never needed closure after a relationship. What I’m saying is…well, what I mean…I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say, but I’m not sure what it is you need from me.”

He lifts his drink, swirling the alcohol around the ice cubes before swigging the entire glass.

“Well…Serenity…I don’t really know how to say this.” Sweat beads on his forehead, but he fights back the anxious feeling. “I never wanted you to come here for closure.”

Serenity nearly chokes on an ice cube, “What?! Then why did you ask me to…Jimin, what’s going on?” She tries to laugh it off, but she’s starting to realize why he had her come here – he wants to be with her.

“I haven’t dated anyone else since we broke up, I’ve spent so many sleepless nights in bed trying to figure out how to contact you, apologize to you…make it up to you.” Tears begin to well up, “I knew I was wrong, but I know I can do better now.”

Jimin reaches across the table, placing his hand over Serenity’s, his eyes pleading for a response.

Pulling her hand away, Serenity stares at him in shock, “So you assumed that you could invite me here, wine and dine me, and I’d just fall back into your arms?” She rolls her eyes, her tone dripping with irritation.

Jimin’s head drops, he’s unsure what he could possibly say to help her understand.

“Nothing to say?” She scoffs, finishing her drink and slamming the glass down on the table. “I’m not even surprised.” She scoots to the edge of the booth bench and stands to leave.

Jimin desperately grabs her arm, “Please…don’t go.”

The resounding sound of sorrow in his voice doesn’t stop her from yanking away from him and leaving without another word. Jimin is left alone in the booth, frozen in time, unable to go after the one thing he wants most on this earth – Serenity, both literally and figuratively.

Serenity sits at the edge of the bed, she’s already packed her belongings, yet finds herself unable to leave.

“I have so much more I want to say to him…” She utters into the phone. “...I know, but you don’t understand…I guess I shouldn’t have come, I thought I’d be able to handle this, but I can’t…What do you mean? I am angry...Whatever, I have to go, I don’t have time to be lectured by my sister about why I shouldn’t have come in the first place! I need to find a hotel or sleep at the fucking airport until my flight leaves…I know, I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated right now…Love you too, bye.”

The call ends, and she doesn’t feel any better now than she did before. She wants to fight with Jimin, she wants to express all of the emotions she’s felt for the last year. Nevertheless, she can’t, she won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the struggles she’s been through trying to forget him, forget their love, forget everything.

“Fuck it.” She gathers her luggage and turns to leave the room, only to see Jimin standing in the doorway.

“Speak your mind. Tell me you hate me, that you never want to see me again, and I’ll have no choice other than to accept how you feel…” He pauses, taking a few steps toward her, “But if you can’t do that, then I won’t give up.”

He closes the distance between them, she can feel the heat radiating from his body, but she can’t move away – she won’t.

“Jimin…” She looks up at him, her eyes brimming with pain, “I–”

Before she’s able to continue, his soft lips meet hers, and she feels like she’s melting. Her lips part, allowing his tongue entry, and he delicately kisses her. She doesn’t object, she can’t, she’s been waiting for this moment. He places his hands on the small of her back, pulling her against his body, his arousal straining against his pants.

Serenity breaks away from the kiss, “Jimin, I…” His head drops in defeat, “...still love you. I hate that we ended the way we did, I hate that neither of us attempted to make an effort to fix anything, I hate that we just let each other…go.” A river of tears begins to flow down her face, she feels the pain slowly begin to release.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Jimin says, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears. “We’re together now, we realize where we went wrong, and now we can work on us together. I told you, and I’ll tell you again, I never stopped loving you.”

Jimin kisses her softly on her forehead, lifting her face so their eyes meet. His lips press against hers and he slowly begins unzipping her dress, his fingers run along her spine, the touch of his skin against hers sends chills through her. The satin dress slips from her shoulders and onto the floor around her feet.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, holding it tight between his teeth, her erect nipples enticing him through the thin lace, luring him to nibble at them through her bra. His dark, hooded eyes burn with a fiery desire, initiating her feral desire to grab him, kiss him until his breaths become hers.

She pulls him closer, her lips press hard against his, sliding her tongue between his lips, the intensity of her desperation is felt. Her longing to feel his skin against hers, she pulls his shirt apart, buttons scattering in soft clicks against the hardwood floor, his sun-kissed chest now exposed for her to plant wet kisses upon.

Slowly leading her toward the bed, an arm wrapped around her, he lowers her down. Her wet pussy glimmers beneath her black lace panties, making his member twitch against the restraining fabric of his Dior jeans, precum staining the inside of his pants.

She slides her panties over, playing with her clit while Jimin watches, unbuttoning his pants without taking his eyes away from her glistening slit.

“Jimin, I want to…no…I-I need to feel you inside of me,” she begs frantically, edging herself.

His pants drop to his ankles, and he bends his knees, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubs his thick tip along her slit, wetting it just enough before penetrating into her tight, slick walls.

“Fuck, you still feel so tight, so perfect, you’re always so wet for me.” His praise stimulates her arousal.

She grabs his ass, pulling him until he’s deep within her, holding him there. His cock begins to contract, oozing warm pre-cum into the back of her pussy. He loves when she takes control, making him lose all inhibitions, nearly reaching his peak.

She releases him and he slowly pulls out of her, giving his best shot to wane the desire to pound her hole, letting her tight walls tightly grip and tease his cock as he eases in and out of her.

He moans each time he inches deeper, holding out as long as he can, stroking slowly until his raging urges prompt him to thrust faster.

“S-Serenity, I’m going to cu-.” He moans wildly, his pace becomes frantic, reckless even, as her walls squeeze his member.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck me!” She screams, her body trembling as she coats his cock with her essence.

Jimin pulls out again, this time a smug smirk forms across his mouth, “I’m not done,” he demands. Rolling her over, he lifts her ass up and kneels behind her, staring at her round ass, and slaps his cock against her swollen cunt.

Gripping her cheeks, he spreads them wide and slips easily into her readied hole. He wastes no time, pounding into her relentlessly, promptly initiating another orgasm.

“Jimin, please, I can’t take anymore, please cum for me.” Her begging hastens his lust. His thrusts become wild, uncontrollable until he finally paints her walls with his cum.

She drops to her stomach, Jimin lowers himself onto her, he’s heavy, but she’s missed the skinship. They lay there spent and breathless, basking in this moment of delight and satisfaction.

After a while, Jimin moves from on top of her to her side, keeping one leg draped over her soft ass.

“Serenity, where do we go from here?” Jimin inquires, the sadness in his voice makes her heart ache.

“One day at a time, Jimin, because I know I’ll never find a love like we share. We just have to work on communication, telling one another how we feel, not running when it feels like the easiest decision when things get rough. I’m not saying it will be easy, but nothing worth fighting for is." She turns, looking into his eyes, her smile is warm and inviting, her eyes full of hope that they can make it work this time.

“So, are you going to move in?” Optimism and hope permeated from his tone.

"It'll take time, we have a lot to work on, and if we’re able to make it through this...then we'll go from there."

Tears of joy soak the sheets on the bed, they embrace one another, and in this moment, they silently vow to persist on this rough road together.

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