#worked on my papers some more over the weekend so i’m still going to count those days even if i’m not posting them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tinycozycomfort · 1 year

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rest in the cup of my palms (part one)

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x art student f!reader

chapter one: drawing from life

series masterlist | next chapter

series summary: you went back to school to find out who you are—to make another leap in the hope of self discovery. when you finally find that first glimpse of yourself, it’s in someone else. what happens when the mirror tries to pull you in? or you’re everything joel could’ve hoped to find. he doesn’t let go easily.

chapter summary: ellie volunteers joel to model for a drawing class on campus. you find someone worth dreaming about.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, no use of y/n, (for everything) -> mutual pining!, possessive behavior, smut (w individual tags to come), unnecessary descriptions of joel being beautiful, ellie is joel's daughter, ellie and reader attend the same university but reader is in post-grad, age gap (joel is late 40s, reader is not), alternating pov, slow-ish burn, joel miller wins girl dad of the century via unanimous vote (for this chapter) -> masturbation (f), intense feelings of loneliness, existential rumination

word count: 7.2k

rating: explicit (18+ only! mdni)

A/N: some good ol' work up, necessary to explain the rated r plans i have for them. ive been terrified of writing a series but i'm also tired of editing everything down to be one-shot appropriate, so today we try. im full-swing into my fixation era and on my 'i cant be loved + ive known how to love you for 1,000 lifetimes' bullshit. this fic is as self indulgent as they come, but i hope you can enjoy it! and for those of you willing to trudge through this with me, i love you.

read on ao3

“To photograph people is to violate them, by seeing them as they never see themselves, by having knowledge of them that they can never have; it turns people into objects that can be symbolically possessed.”

Susan Sontag - On Photography

───────

A halo of hot light falls through the pane of glass above the sink. Joel’s got one eye pinched semi-shut, trying hard to focus on not burning himself while he drains boiling water out of a pot of pasta.

When he woke up this morning, the blinds on every window in the house had been strung up to the lip. He’d barely gotten a hand around one of the strings in the glass frame above the couch before Ellie appeared out of nowhere to literally slap his wrist, ‘I’m drawing’. Still groggy, he tried to challenge her, ‘Do they all have to be open?’, to which she patiently explained—for what she probably feels is the millionth time—that she needed the extra light, and if she had them all open when she started, they’d need to stay that way until she was done.

So he left her to work, knowing she’s got midterms to finish, walking around with his eyes closed until he felt his way back into his bedroom. He came out once for coffee, and not again until dinner. This is their weekend.

Joel spoons out some of the food into bowls, leaving them to stay warm by the stove before he steps into the dining room. He stops himself half-way, hanging back in the archway to give his daughter another minute as the last shreds of strong sunlight start to wane out.

Ellie’s right where he left her: at the table, cross-legged in her chair with an eraser-less pencil held tightly in her fist. She’s hunched over a large pad of paper, the back of it lifted at an angle under a pile of old books and dog-eared tool catalogs. The sketchbook she uses as a reference guide is propped up on the corner of her left knee, leaned against the edge of the table. She rifles between two pages of it, eyeing some of the quick sketches—visual notes, as she puts it—that she took in class to help her navigate the larger, more detailed version with ease. Silent save for her short huffs of breath, she’s concentrated, wrist-corner lifted to not misplace any graphite. Her process is always the same; a little creature of habit.

She’s wearing her headphones, the cord winding dangerously low, threatening to dip into a cup of water she’d placed in the empty triangle between her lap—the same one he’d seen her with six hours ago. She hasn’t even touched it, still full nearly to the brim. He wonders if she’s gotten up at all. The girl works herself a bit too hard, he thinks, always falls head first into whatever project she’s working on, nothing if not like her dad. The corner of his mouth tugs up so tight it hurts. What is he going to do without her?

He just stands there, feet crossed on top of each other and arms in a twist over his chest, and watches her while she’s not looking, knowing she still gets shy sometimes when he catches her like this. She’s the sweetest reminder of everything good Joel’s ever done; another life he’d gladly offer his own for.

It’s always come naturally—to be what someone needs of him—in a way that transcends reward or expectation.

Joel had been his brother’s primary caregiver first, from birth and then well into their adulthood—always around to bail him out of jail or lend him money he didn’t have. Because he cared. Loved him. He couldn’t ever really say it, always had a problem with the wording, but he knew that at least some of what he wanted to explain had come across. He can see it in the way Tommy is with his own family.

His brother has Maria now, and the kids, and seeing how happy Tommy could be in spite of their upbringing was the first time Joel had ever put his priorities into question. Somewhere in all the caring-for he did, he’d forgotten about himself; the possibility of having his own wife and child and home. He’d always ached for that, deep down, but didn’t even know it was an option until he saw it happen. By that point, he wasn’t sure if he could do any of it, or if he even had the time to start. Then came Ellie.

She entered his life when a close friend of Tommy’s had died unexpectedly and no one came forward to claim her, unknowingly giving him a second chance; one he worked to make count. She was tough to crack at first—also like him in that way—but the love had always been there, waiting its turn after all the awkwardness and misunderstanding and adapting before finally showing its face. She’d needed him then, as much as his brother had all those years ago, carrying on the torch of purpose that Joel so feverishly searched for.

He rolls his eyes at himself; he’s been having too many misty-eyed moments about her lately. It’s so unserious, the actuality of it; of being her dad. Going to work and the supermarket and museums, being there to chaperone field-trips and take one-thousand mostly-blurry photos of her graduation. But it’s been everything to him. He’s desperately clung to the five years of her life that she’s shared with him, and he’s so proud to witness it, but he knows she’s getting to a point where she needs to be her own person. He’ll miss her when she’s only home for summers, then only home for Christmas, then only home once in a while—so he holds on to every bit, and tries not to think about what’s next for him.

He walks closer to her, tilting his head to try and steal a glance of what it is she’s working on. He catches a glimpse of the face of a woman, a portrait from shoulders-up. She’s pretty, with a soft and thoughtful expression, looking downward off the side of the pad. From what he could make out between the movements of Ellie’s hand, she even looks a little shy. His daughter rubs at the cheeks and nose of the girl on the paper, imitating the shadow-less areas where light would fall. Joel is mesmerized by the way she creates so effortlessly, like breathing.

Without moving her head, she pulls a tiny white bobble out from her ear, “I know you’re watching me, weirdo.”

Joel laughs, wet and thick in his mouth with the emotion he’s still climbing down from, “Is this how you treat me when I’m trying to feed you?”

She smiles, he can see the fat of her cheek rounding out even from this angle, “You should’ve just said that.”

Ellie leaves her set-up untouched, just getting up and moving down to an empty seat while Joel goes to bring the food out.

She shifts around in her seat, feet folded again on the flat of it, eating too fast—ill-mannered—and it reminds Joel of all the nights they spent at Tommy’s for family dinner, right at the beginning, back when they’d just begun to become close. When she’d push his patience with her behavior to see if he’d say something, to see if he still paid her mind—he always did, still does, “Jesus Christ, kid. Have I taught you nothing?”

She holds back a laugh, mouth full of tomato sauce, “You love it. I’m charming.”

He snorts, the two of them falling into a comfortable quiet for only a few minutes before she breaks it again, “Speaking of how much you love me, I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Oh no,” He jokes, “What now?”

“Remember those drawings I turned in of you last month?” She starts pushing around the last bite of her spaghetti, never a good sign, but he nods anyway for her to continue, “Well my teacher really liked them. And there’s been an issue with finding people to sit for the drawings. Sooo,” she really drags it out, “I signed you up.”

“What do you mean, you signed me up? For what?”

“To model,” Joel’s mouth pops open in an immediate attempt to oppose, but Ellie’s quicker, “Didn’t you say you’d always support me in school?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Joel finishes his plate and then they’re both just clinking their forks against porcelain for a heavy eightnineten seconds before she gives it another shot.

“C’mon, seriously. I’ll get extra credit if you do it,” She lets out a long sigh like she can’t believe she has to explain anything more than that, “My professor teaches a Monday session for the master’s program and they need people. It’s just one time.”

“Ellie. It’s Sunday. How are you gonna tell me this now?”

“Please, you just sit there for, like, two hours while they draw you and you don’t have to talk. That’s two of your favorite things. Three if you consider that you’d be helping me out.” she looks at him with a sticky-sweet smile, eyes crinkled—like she knows she’s getting away with it.

She might be.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to do it?” Joel gathers up their plates from the table to carry them into the kitchen. Ellie picks up their still half-full glasses as an excuse to follow him.

“Because we all have class together tomorrow on the other side of campus. Plus, you’re easy to draw and—”

“Hey.”

She ignores the flat look he shoots her, flipping on the sink, “That’s a compliment, by the way. But really, it’s no effort and you’d be getting me into a good place with my professor ‘cause she’ll be super grateful. The budget’s kinda tight this semester.”

“Then what am I payin’ for, if you’re gonna make me do this stuff myself?” It’s a half-hearted dig—he’s mostly annoyed because she probably already figured out he’s going to agree.

Her little smirk graduates to a shit-eating grin, she knows it, “Best dad ever.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Just because I knew you were gonna say that, I actually signed you up for two.”

───────

Joel stumbles out of the elevator, filing hurriedly through groups of students with a new-found purpose now that he’s managed to make it to the correct floor. Ellie made a point of not mentioning that he had to be at the school at 7:30am until she was saying goodnight to him a few hours ago, because she thought it would dissuade him—she was right—so now he’s running late on top of everything else.

He’s got the little scaled-down, splotchy-printed version of the campus map gripped tightly between his hands. Room 14B is seemingly only two turns and one corner from where he stands—if he’s holding it the right way. He wants to ask for directions, but he feels too out-of-place to set aside his embarrassment. He’s older than at least half the staff, and some of the attendees are even younger, and he doesn’t want to run the risk of looking incapable, as foolish as it is. He wishes Ellie would have just offered to show him where to go before she headed off to her own class.

For someone who prides themselves on their ability to parent, he feels hopeless now without his daughter; not for the first time, but it’s especially harsh considering the circumstances. It hurts something bittersweet, to think about how much more they’ve bonded since he started working less and she decided to live at home her first year of college (though it’s coming to an end sooner than he’d like). Again, too many sad thoughts, and she’s not here, so he trudges on.

He walks in two more circles before he finds the right place—down a fucking hallway and hidden behind a door he didn’t know he was allowed to open, of course. A woman with long, dark blonde hair is sitting at a desk by the door when he enters. She doesn’t look up at him.

“Good morning, ma’am. Sorry I’m late. My—uh. You teach my daughter? I’m here for—”

“Ellie’s dad,” She cocks her head without meeting his eye, “Late? You’re about twenty minutes early, she told me you probably would be.”

She knows me too well, the brat. He chastises her in his mind but outwardly he corrects himself, “Yes, right, sorry. I’m a little turned around.”

“That’s alright. There’s just a waiver you need to sign, and you can get undressed in the bathroom down the hall. I’ll give you a cover-up to wear until I come to grab you.”

Right, he’d have to be naked. He already knew that—sort-of—having seen dozens of Ellie’s sketches from semesters past. He knows the students don’t see it that way, knows that they’ve all drawn the same things so many times they would be desensitized to his nudity. They’d probably all be desensitized to him as well; in their eyes, he was just a reference, as familiar as any of the memorialized piles of fruit or arrangements of glass that Ellie's also brought home.

Still, Joel feels a wash of anxiety come over him. He’s more than comfortable in his body, after putting it through so much, but this degree of vulnerability is severe in comparison to vanity or sex—it’s a state of living he hasn’t participated in for a long time. He doesn’t like to be seen, and being documented—having physical evidence of how he’s interpreted by others—makes his stomach turn. He hasn’t looked in a mirror for more than a moment in months, but it can’t be that bad, right? Ellie’s always given him a favorable light, but he worries she has a bias beyond belief. What if he sees something about himself he doesn’t like? What if everyone’s been able to see it all along?

Caught in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize the woman is still talking, “We have a scheduled break halfway through class. You can leave then. Next week it’ll flip and you can come for the latter half so they can finish.” She slides the form and a swath of black fabric across the table, and almost like she can sense his apprehension, finally raises her head to give him a meaningful look, “Thank you again for doing this. I know it can feel weird, but it makes a difference for them. There’ll be a joint show at the end of the month, too, with Ellie’s class.”

He just offers her a little nod of his head, thank you, signing the form and padding to the bathroom to unceremoniously disrobe in an empty stall.

It’s just two hours.

───────

If they make you take another figure-drawing class, you’re going to scream.

You’d think this far into a second degree, the school board would stop requiring you to take what is essentially the same class every semester. Sincerely, the only thing that changes is how long the session runs and what number follows the class title. It’s getting old.

To be fair, it’s not necessarily that you dislike drawing—it provides a pretty firm foundation for your personal work to stand on—it’s just tedious. Nothing is inspiring about assignment-based work, especially when they’ve decided the only way you can prove your skill-set is to make you draw the same three objects five-thousand ways.

But it’s not up to you.

So here you are again, two weeks from spring break, back in this frigid building after surviving another forty minutes of traffic, body still stiff from fighting the urge to fall asleep at the wheel.

It’s important, you remind yourself, to show up and put your fullest effort into everything, no matter how much you don’t enjoy it. Even if just to prove to yourself you can still finish things.

Coming back to school was an idea you’d toyed with for years after graduating.

There had been a lot of pressure on you to go in the first place, from your parents and your teachers and your nightmare of an ex, because according to them you’d get nowhere without it. After enough pressure and in a need to appease them, you folded and went; suffered every long night and pushed through every period of self-doubt and smiled for every ‘worth-capturing’ moment right up to the end. And then when it was over, gone faster than you could comprehend, you felt like something was taken away from you, even with how low it had made you—the worst kind of stockholm syndrome.

In an attempt to keep some momentum, you were over-eager for more right out of the gate. There was an initial need to continue, because you’d been reliant on academic structure just by the nature of familiarity, and maybe a little ill-prepared to face who you were without guidance. Without the instruction of someone with two degrees and a smoking addiction and no teaching license. Now it sounds silly, but then you spent a few too many nights uncontrollably looking into post-grad institutions or internship programs, googling professors and reading forums for first-hand accounts.

Then, after a year, the thought of continuing got a little less exciting, and you became comfortable in the freedom of nothing after being in school your whole life. So you pretended to research, emailed everyone about how great the options looked, signed up for one-on-ones you didn’t show up for—until people stopped asking.

It was at that point that you finally had the time to process what you were doing and why, and accepted that you didn’t have to have all the answers, despite what everyone had led you to believe. Truthfully, you still had no idea who you wanted to be and that’s okay—living with it and living alongside it weren’t mutually exclusive. You just took time to practice being yourself—sucked up the embarrassment and did the work, little exercises in unleashing yourself onto the world instead of letting every experience be done to you. If you were going to do anything anymore, even something like continuing your education, it had to be on your own terms, to try it all in the effort of self-discovery.

So yes, applying and getting accepted and attending every class—even this one—this time around was for you—to better yourself instead of just filling an expectation. You’re determined to make good on the opportunity.

And it has been better, so far. You even have friends this time around. Okay, two, and one of them is your roommate, but it's more of a support system than what you had going into undergrad.

You say yes now, too; not to everything, but to more than before. Which is maybe how you got roped into getting ‘introductory’ drinks later this evening with everyone, now that more people have joined the program as winter thaws out and it’s easier to commute. It’ll be nice to swap ideas and catch up and maybe even get laid instead of spending hours staring at the ceiling and willing time to pass. That thought alone is enough to keep you here.

It’s just two hours.

The room this semester is a little bigger, at least; probably the only perk that moving up so gracefully from Drawing II to Drawing III had earned you. It’s still unfortunately just another classroom; windowless to protect it from outside influence and drenched in fluorescent light to create a controlled environment. Old, stained art horses form a circle in the center of the space, crowding around a painted-gray wood pallet like an audience. A metal stool sits atop the make-shift stage, providing a seat for the subject. It’s clinical, the way the elements come together; a perfectly disarrayed scene that’s been neatly curated to emulate every ‘socratic seminar’ model you’ve seen in education since you can remember. Always the same.

You’re hoping for someone new today to rest on the chair; the department has been in less-than-preferred financial standing lately, so you’ve seen the same faces interchanged for most of the term.

Your professor is at her desk when you make your way in, greeting you with a grin despite the tired look on her face. A hardworking woman, the shadows under her eyes gave her a beauty you could only explain as determined. You knew she cross-taught for both sections of the department, and you respected her for it. It couldn’t be anything short of a struggle to toggle between those modes of seriousness—to have the patience to answer the younger students’ unending questions and the passion to keep the post-grads engaged.

Moving to get a seat as far on the outskirts of the cluster as possible, you watch as your classmates arrive slowly until all the slots are filled. No one really talks, probably all similarly bogged down by the early start and the cold weather outside. Ian, your friend who’d invited you out tonight, waves at you from four horses down and you halfheartedly nod back at him.

“Good morning everyone, we’ve only got two more classes after this until your week off, so we’ll make this next one a two-parter and have critique on the twenty-first. I want you guys to focus on composition more than anything else,” She turns in her seat to write some names on the board behind her, “We’ll go for two hours then break. If your name’s up here we’ll have a conversation about your thesis. The rest of you can go.”

Thankfully you’ve been spared this time—granted another seven-nights-straight writing the segment of your thesis that was meant to be finished two months ago. Your brain hurts inside of your skull.

You set up your little station, sketchpad raised against the easel, body straddling the drawing horse as you fiddle with some dirty erasers in your pack.

You can hear the slap slap slap of the model’s feet on the concrete floor as they enter—a long gait paired with hard, thudding steps; probably a man by the sound of it. Tall and heavy.

“Okay guys, we’re starting,” She winds up the dial on a plastic kitchen timer and sets it on the edge of her desk, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be making a few passes throughout and we’ll exchange thoughts.”

You roll your neck, knowing the model tends to take a minute to find a comfortable position, and that people watching didn’t do anything to help. A tempered soundtrack—the poorly contained buzzing of the clock and the moan of the air-conditioning—plays on in the background. Your leg is asleep. It’s cold in here. You count to thirty in your head. That’s enough time, right? You shift again, stretching your arms once more just in case.

Looking up, you peer over the side of the easel to get a quick look at the model’s pose and immediately do a double take.

It is a man.

He’s sitting on the chair, facing the girl a few seats down from you so that you can only see him from a three-quarters view. He has one long, thick leg pushed against the lower bar of the stool, the other one, closest to you, hiked up on the seat, folded so that his knee points towards the ceiling. His arms are crossed, hugging his erect shin with his wide back wrapped over his thigh, effectively shielding the ‘naked’ parts of him from view. He looks shy, but not uncomfortable; either like he’s done this before or he’s accustomed to protecting himself—to hiding.

The frame of his body is captivating; he looks strong but used, little nicks and scars littering his shoulders and hands. Weathered. As you make your way up his torso, you find it’s a similar state of experienced, tan profile and neck bearing the slightest difference in color from the soft of his side, and you can see the faintest curve of a hem-shaped tan-line across the dip in his shoulder. Little wisps of gray-dusted brown curls frame the edges of his face. He’s beautiful in a gentle way, with a dark, heavy brow that leads into the sharp slope of his nose, plush lips pursed like he’s concentrating.

Part of you feels bad about staring, but it’s easy enough to disguise it as working, so you map him with your gaze again and again until you can still see him when you blink. It takes the constant movement of your classmate’s hand sketching something in your periphery to remember you’re being timed.

You choke out a cough, repositioning your body and grabbing some charcoal.

The way you usually approach this task is simple: get down the general gist of the body, careful to keep out the details of the person in favor of capturing light and weight—there’s a graded challenge to be considered, after all.

Yet as you watch him, you decide you can fulfill the requirements in a way that gives him more room to exist. You crop the drawing tighter, paying careful attention to the landscape of his face; the hills of his cheekbones and the valley between his lips. You want to immortalize him.

You’re suddenly deeply concerned with the history that’s woven itself into the shape of him, in what happened to make him look this way. It seems like life has been useful to him, but that he’d had to grow from something to make it so—like he had to work for it. He’s the living manifestation of his own grief and enjoyment and passion, and you want to know all of it.

Countless minutes pass as you take him in and spill him out, fingers moving quickly to recreate the weighted feeling of his posture, exhausted and heavy, muscles held together on the string of bone that runs through the center of his back. You write him down, again and again, flipping to a new page half-way through to get in one last version of him—one for yourself.

You’ve never seen him before, but you see part of yourself in him. He mirrors the anxious peace you’ve been operating under for the last few years, humming with energy but willfully stagnant. It makes you feel seen, less burdened by your recent inability to connect—he makes you want to keep trying.

You wonder if he writes or draws or makes, and if he’d show you. You want to hear him talk. You want to see the other side of him, literally and metaphorically. You want to feel—

The tinny ring of the alarm sounds off, and you’re taken out of the fantasy.

The second drawing is only really half done, but you didn’t make it with the intention of sharing it anyway, so you flip back to the original to hide it..

You try not to watch the man when he stands—remembering that just because he’d been hidden before doesn't mean he wasn't naked the entire time—maybe more for your sake than his. You peek around the room instead, taking a healthy, albeit competitive, glance around for other interpretations of the man; did they see him too, the way you do?

When you look up to take a comparative look, he’s gone. You’re a little disappointed, admittedly, but there’s still one more chance to interact with him, and you can make up for it then. You start to pack up your things in an effort to make it to the parking lot before the crowd. A sudden rise in the volume level in the room tells you that the shock of the early morning has started to burn off. You try to tune it out, so much so that you don’t hear someone walking up behind you.

“Wow.” It’s a man’s voice, deep and smooth. You pivot in your seat.

It’s him, in all his communal-robe wearing glory, even more gorgeous from head on. It’s a pleasant surprise, this reveal; his beauty is evenly distributed, like a handwritten note that extends into the margins or when a movie’s ending is just as good as the start.

“Oh. Hi. Thank you.” You feel exposed, like you got caught doing something bad, even though there are ten other people in the room with even more detailed portraits of him.

“Can I see the other one, too?”

“What?”

“You flipped your page. I didn’t see anyone else do that. Did you make two?”

You just nod, shocked that he was watching you back, peeling back the paper to reveal to him the unfinished drawing. He won’t question it if you don’t give him a reason to.

“Are you gonna finish it?” He asks, eyes rolling over it with an intense curiosity.

“Uh, probably not. I don’t like it as much as the first one.” Maybe lying your way through this would provide better reasoning than ‘I wanted a part of you that no one else could see’.

“Can I have it?”

When you can’t find something to say fast enough, he just continues.

“I’m sorry, is that rude? If you’re just gonna get rid of it, I’ll take it. It just… looks like me. I mean they all do, I’ve been told I have a ‘simple face’,” He coughs awkwardly in acknowledgement of his own tangent, “I just mean to say that it feels a lot like me. If that makes sense.”

“You’re actually very visually interesting.” Is the first thing you can think of, and fuck, did that come out really fucking wrong, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it’s better if he takes it, if it’ll stop you from fumbling, “But yeah, you can have it.” You pull a little plastic mail-tube out of your bag, ripping the drawing free from its perforated tether and rolling it in on itself.

The edges of his mouth pull up, a cute little thing, free of laughter or judgement, “Thank you. I’m Joel.” One of his hands drapes across his stomach, palm spread over the knot of the wrap—he’s holding himself at length again. Why?

“Hi Joel. You seem to know a fair amount about this whole thing. Not your first time, then?” You offer him your name in return, and he parrots it back—guard still up, still standing too far away.

“It is, actually. The closest I’ve come to this is sitting in the yard for my daughter,” He watches as you slide the drawing into the cylindrical case, “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you.” It feels weird to hear the praise twice, “How’d they get you to pose for no money? I heard the department’s a little strapped. I’ve been subbing in for the undergrads too when I can.”

“My daughter volunteered me, she’s on the other side of the program. Your teacher was giving out extra credit.” He takes the roll when you pass it to him, going out of his way to grab it from the middle, his thumb grazing yours. Your skin heats up where he’s touched it, and you look down at the floor, suddenly nervous.

“Wow, this is the first time I’m hearing anything about that.” You continue to pack away items into your bag, “I’m owed quite a lot if that’s true.”

His face falls in on itself in a wince, “Oh. Didn’t mean to do her in like that.” You can feel him looking at you for a few beats too long, and his eyes narrow like he’s about to say more.

In the same moment, as if summoned, your professor turns on her heel, walking over to your bench.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay without it. I’ll see you next week, right?”

He shakes a little, releasing his stare, and throws a thumbs up in your direction with his protective hand, “Yeah, see ya next week. Nice to meet you.”

───────

After another four-hour class and a too-long nap and a break for dinner, everyone from this morning joins together in a few cars to head to a bar downtown. You meet up with Ian, who offered to drive as a bargaining chip, because he knows by now that you’d back out if you had to show up on your own.

The bar is dark and divey and perfect for being overly-observant in secret. You’ve warmed up to this crowd enough, but you’re still on plus-one basis with a lot of them, Ian serving as your invitation. You like to just listen to them at first during these outings, strategically planning your involvement so you don’t feel put on the spot when they give you a turn.

It’s a lot like being in class; the group of you occupying a dimly lit corner, a round-table of bodies, with the person in the center alternating as the topic changes. Tonight you stay at the furthest end.

You cling to the single tequila soda you ordered, watery and flat by now with pea-sized ice chips bobbing around in the center to avoid the heat of your fingers. You watch them swim, tipping your cup to see them swirl in a frenzied circle until they disappear.

Some guy from your English class—Andre or Andrew or who cares—is talking at you, making his best attempt at what you think is supposed to be flirting. It’s really just him asking your opinions on his five favorite books, not hiding his disapproval when you mention you haven’t read one or the other.

You watch Ian, who left you twenty minutes ago in search of the bar-top for another drink. He’s caught now on his third conversation on the way back, maybe thinking he’s doing you a favor by taking his time. You try relentlessly to catch his eye instead, and he bounds over without question when he sees you. The glass of wine in his hand is already half empty, and the English-class-guy spooks at the sight of what he probably thinks is competition. So much for that.

“Having fun?” he prods when he slips in the chair beside you, already aware that you are absolutely very much not having fun.

Ian’s a nice guy, and he means well. You met him a week into your first semester—almost a year ago now—at orientation, because your last names were the beginning and end of the line of their respective letters. He was from somewhere in Canada, studying photography with a minor in painting and drawing. He’s maybe a year or two older than you, though you’ve never asked to confirm; tall and long and pretty, for lack of a better word, with big eyes and a permanent split in the little bangs that cover his forehead. He’s the first man in years you’ve been comfortable around, never initiating anything or pushing too hard for your friendship. All in all, no one’s been as welcoming to you, except the person you literally live with, and you’re happy to let him drag you out if it means he’ll continue to look after you the way he does.

“Of course, when have you ever known me to have a bad time?”

“No luck with Adrian?” Adrian. You were close.

“Just likes to hear himself talk, I think. I wasn’t interested in being an audience.”

He hums, “Someone else on your mind?”

“Like who?” You lean the lip of your cup against your mouth.

“Saw you making eyes at the model today,” He teases, nudging you in your rib when you take a sip of your drink so that you keel over slightly. You sputter, unamused with the tactic to get you to fess up.

Was it that obvious?

“Isn’t that the point of the class?”

“Yeah maybe, smartass, but that’s not what I meant. I saw him talking to you, saw you give him a little gift,” He bobs his eyebrows at you suggestively, “Excited for him to come back next week?”

“So I can stare more, you mean?”

“So you can get his number.”

“Ian.”

“I’m just saying you should try and find someone outside our section of the building. No writers, either, obviously.” He gestures to where Adrian is already trying his shtick on some girl from your class.

“He’s a little too old for me, don’t you think? His daughter goes here.” You muse. He’s mostly right about you needing to expand your reach, but you won’t let him off that easily.

“Maybe. But if you don’t care, and he doesn’t care, what’s it matter? He’s not too old to fuck you.” He makes a face and you roll your eyes.

The thought is nice, but you know forging relationships is unlikely when you’re concerned, at least as of late, “I don’t want to spend my night talking about people I’m not going to fuck.”

“Whatever you say.” He slinks out from his seat, mumbling something about a glass of water. A few steps away, he looks back over his shoulder, “You’re not doomed, by the way,” the asshole can read your mind, “You can enjoy yourself without feeling guilty. You’re allowed to like people.”

And then you’re alone again.

It’s like that for another hour, small attempts at chatter and meetings until you realize you’re too tired to fuck anyone, let alone continue to sit upright. Being up so early this morning took more of a toll than an hour nap could fix, and you're begging Ian to take you home. He agrees, spending the trip trying to plan another outing later in the week before everyone’s gone on vacation.

You give him a sleepy goodbye when he pulls into your apartment complex, making sure he’s still going to class tomorrow before letting him drive away. Once you’re inside, slipping quietly in through the front door, you realize your roommate isn’t home. She’s probably still in a late class or at her boyfriend’s or somewhere else. You enjoy the quiet enough to not think about it too hard.

The five sips of tequila-mostly-water has settled into your stomach by now, making you a quarter-second slower when you strip all your clothes off and climb into bed.

You twist under the sheets, and after a while your skin starts to feel too hot, even in the cold air of your room. Breathing deep, you try to think of something boring to get your mind to still, but when you sense the sleep about to take over, it switches.

You see his face behind your eyelids, the man from today, strong and pretty and delicate, remembering all your favorite details—the length of his fingers and the depth of his voice. You curse yourself for assigning this importance to him. He’s just another page in your portfolio, if you even keep him, yet you can feel a slow heat bubble up at your core when you remember the stretch of his body under the robe. It’s okay to be taken with him, you think, he’s objectively gorgeous.

Your conversation with Ian replays in your head—less about his sincere advice and more about how you need to get laid. It’s been too long; maybe you are just horny, and maybe taking care of it just this once could be enough to stop this hollow interest from growing.

You reach a hand down under your blanket, the tips of your digits pushing into the slit of your cunt. You’re wet, arousal tacky and pooled so much that the light pressure you meant to be exploring with is enough to have you accidentally slipping inside. Okay, he’s really hot. So what? Was it really that bad if you thought so?

You dip a finger further in, timid at first; you’re used to keeping quiet for this kind of activity, and even though your roommate was gone when you got here, it doesn’t mean she hadn’t come in in the thirty minutes of rolling around you’d done before giving into your desire. You lay your free hand over your mouth just in case, teeth biting into the meat at the base of your thumb to keep yourself quiet.

You slide in a second finger to the knuckle to join the first, the light stretch of it enough to make you pant. You see him again, hard and soft and beautiful. You think about what his skin would taste like, if he’d let you sink your teeth into the sinew of his neck. It feels weird to know what he looks like without his clothes, and you’re weirdly proud of yourself for holding back from seeing him fully; it's easier to dream about that way. You wonder how he’d present himself to you, how he’d want to fuck you. You imagine him winding a hand around the hinge of your jaw, fingers pressing hard into the soft of your cheeks. Would he be gentle? Would he make it hurt? You suspect either would be too much. You feverishly palm your clit, hips canting in an effort to climax. The pictures flash faster—his cock in your mouth, his tongue in your cunt, the way he’d spit and grip and hold—and you’re coming, drooling over your hand as you hear him say your name in your mind.

You take your hand away after a minute, breath pushing out heavily from your nose. It��s fine, you needed to do it, just one time. No shame in that. It’s out of your system now.

And if you see his face one more time before you fall asleep, it’s probably an afterthought.

───────

By the end of the week, you come to a horrible conclusion.

It starts the next morning when you take your sketchbook out, itching to get a handle on the many writing assignments you’ve been dutifully ignoring, hoping for an outline or a free-flow of ideas. Nothing comes to mind. You draw a little bit to fill the space while you think, just a mess of material on the page, strokes of your hand that leave barely anything behind.

Then on Wednesday you’re at your laptop, typing with one hand while the other one slides against the wood of the dining table, down and around in a loop, mimicking the same shape each time.

And again last night in the shower, letting the shame of a different semi-failed night-out wash over and off of you. You slosh your foot around in the water in the basin below, catching it as it runs down and pools, ankle dragging in a tiny, controlled movement.

It’s not until now that you put it together.

You’re sitting at your desk, with creative materials at your disposal this time, trying to make sense of what it is you’re forming. You find that no matter the medium, your hand automatically makes a single hard line. The same line, from memory. It’s negligible at first, just a light press of pen or pencil or crayon, until it drags down, down, down. It’s not until you lift your utensil that you recognize it. The hook of a nose and the crest of a top lip.

A hard pit forms in your stomach, blood draining from your head to gather in the center of your chest, a blooming sickness of obsession you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re drawing him. You’ve been drawing him. You know this feeling, have participated in this kind of behavior. These are the actions that cause the humiliating dregs of attraction to bleed over into fixation—juvenile and universal and unavoidable. He’s going to be a problem.

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader

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wh0re43van · 11 months

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I’ve always cared (Jimmy Darling X Reader)

Summary: Elsa took you in, seeing herself in you, when you and Jimmy were just 6 years old. Everyone at the camp loves you, Ethel has taken you under her wing, but Jimmy is much less than thrilled with your presence.

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: I’ve gotten a couple requests, it may take a bit longer than expected because Im in college and I’m swamped at the moment, but I am working on them! This is just a Jimmy imagine I had been working on for a while. I tried to make this one a bit shorter! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

I glance at the wooden clock hanging on the lilac wallpaper covering my small trailer. 3:00pm, I better go meet Thomas, my new beau, at the entrance of the carnival. Hopefully Jimmy minds his business this time. It seems like every time I bring a date back here, he scares them off.

I look in my mirror, straightening out my purple and white dress before walking out the creaky metal door. As I step out onto my porch, I glance over at Jimmy’s trailer which happens to be about 50 feet from mine. He looks away and takes a sip out of his whiskey glass, resuming his reading of today’s newspaper. Theres always been tension between us. Well, more like a blatant dislike towards me. Jimmy always managed to get me in trouble with Elsa when we were little, now he constantly chases off boys I bring home. Whenever I would ask him why he hates me so much, he would just walk away, so I gave up.

I walk through the giant clown mouth and up to Thomas’ automobile as he steps out.

“Hey suga’. ” Thomas flashes a bright smile and pulls out a comb to slick back his dark hair.

“I’ve missed you Thomas,” I beam as I lean up to peck his cheek. I grab his hand to lead him back to my trailer.

As we approach my door, I see Jimmy glower over his newspaper. Not at me, but at Thomas. They make eye contact, and neither one wants to look away first. Seeming to be in some weird battle of unspoken dominance.

“Why so crabby, lobster boy?” Thomas teases. I roll my eyes. To my surprise, Jimmy says nothing. Just sips his whiskey, still refusing to break eye contact.

“Thomas quit it,” I huff then all but shove him into my trailer.

“I don’t know what that guy-“ I halt his words with a soft kiss, putting my hands on his chest.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” I smile and pull his black shirt from behind his buckle and over his head. “Just pay attention to me.” I bite my lip and a devilish smile creeps onto his face. I push him onto my bed and turn on the radio before straddling his waist, dipping down to kiss his neck. Thomas reaches up to close my blinds above my bed.

•

Jimmys POV

•

I see some shuffling out of the corner of my eye. I glance up at Y/n’s window to see that bastard shirtless with her on top of him. He notices my looking and gives me a sly wink before closing the blinds. I feel my face contort into a scowl and my blood pressure raise. I gulp down the last of my whiskey before I slam the paper down, shaking the table and knocking the glass over, but I’m too pissed to care. I march over to where my mother is starting supper.

“Why is she allowed to do that?” I huff, pointing at Y/Ns trailer.

“Why can who do what, son?” my mom asks while chopping some celery.

“Y/n,” I take my hat off to scratch my head. God, she makes my skin crawl from anger. “Why is she allowed to bring random guys here all the time?”

“Oh Jimmy,” Ma shakes her head. “She’s young and beautiful, let her have her fun.” She grabs the celery and turns to take it to a big pot. I follow her with angry footsteps.

“Yeah, well my trailer is 50 feet from hers Ma. I’d prefer to not have to hear her ‘fun’ every weekend.” I argued. Ma turns to look at me.

“Maybe if you brought some ‘fun’ back here for yourself you wouldn’t be in such a tizzy,” she raises her eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at her, grunting in annoyance before storming into the main tent. My mother had managed to make me even more angry, possibly because she might be right.

“Elsa!” I shout throwing the striped curtains out of my way. Elsa turns around in the fold up chair, removing a cigarette from her mouth.

“Yes, boy? What is it?” She asks flatly.

“Tell me why y/n is allowed to bring normies snooping around here for free all the time,” I question, stomping up to stand in front of her.

“Its not for free boy. They often come back with their families or friends for the real show. When she picks the wealthy ones, they even buy refreshments. So, are you asking why I’m allowing free publicity?” she pauses to take a drag off her cigarette. “I hope not because that’s a stupid question.” she exhales the smoke in my face. Once again, I march away, even more heated with whiskey sloshing in my veins. “dummer junge.” I hear the crone mutter in German as I beeline towards y/n trailer. A storm opens up, pouring down rain as if matching my emotion.

•

Y/N’s POV

•

Thomas leaves wet kisses on my neck as ‘put your head in my shoulder’ plays from my old stereo. I set down my glass of wine to help him unbutton the blouse of my dress. His eyes shimmer with lust as I reach behind my back to unclasp my off-white brazier. Out of no where, my door swings open.

I snap my head to my doorway as a very angry, slightly drunk Jimmy crashes through. I freeze as Thomas jumps off me, his face flushing in fear. He just stands above us for a second, Jimmy stares at me, I stare at him, and Thomas stares at Jimmy.

“Get bent lunkhead!” Jimmy snarls at Thomas. I’ve never seen this look in his eyes before. The boy next to me grabs his shirt and bolts out of my trailer into the rain. I call for him and stand to run after Thomas, but Jimmy grabs my wrist firmly. He stares into my eyes, glancing at my chest. My cheeks reddened in embarrassment. I was a bit too tipsy and stunned to realize my whole chest is exposed.

“Let me go Jimmy!” I pull my arm away, turning around to pull the top of my dress back around my shoulders and clumsily fastening the buttons. “Jimmy get out!” I holler, too wine drunk and embarrassed to deal with his shit. I turn to face him. He just stares at me with glossy eyes and his brows furrowed in a way that almost scares me.

“Fine. I’ll just leave then,” I huff brushing past him, storming out into the thunderstorm. Jimmy follows close behind me.

“You think you’re so fucking perfect!” He shouts. I turn around.

“What are you on about Jimmy?” I shout back in confusion, my voice being crowded out by the heavy rain falling around me. The man stumbles towards me, his white shirt sticking to him as the rain soaks in.

“Everyone thinks you’re some perfect little princess!” he yells with whiskey on his breath. “You have them all wrapped around your pretty little finger, even my own Ma adores you! But not me Y/N,” he screams while toddling closer to my face.

“Get your drunk ass out of my face!” I shove him back, but he doesn’t even move. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re perfectly normal Y/N!” he slurs slightly, seeming to not even notice that I pushed him. “You don’t need to be here! Go out into town! Get married and have a normal life with a decent guy and quit fucking sleeping with guys who obviously want nothing more than your body! You just keep getting hurt!” He screams, grabbing my shoulders and basically shakes me.

“Don’t touch me!” I slap his hands and step back. “Since when do you care about me or what I do?” I scream right back, spitting some rain out of my mouth that’s running down my face. Surely, he can smell the wine on my breath just as I can smell the whiskey on his

“Since fucking ever Y/N! I’ve always cared,” he shouts the first line, softening at the second. What? Our screams stop, the sound of the rain floods my ears. I just now feel how wet my skin is, how soaked my dress has become.

“Well you sure have a poor way of showing it,” I say still bitter, but much more quiet.

“Truth is, I’m jealous of you Y/N. ” he admits almost in a whisper, still inches from my face. “you’re just so perfect. Your face, your body… your hands. You could be in the pictures! You’re just so…” he trails off maybe searching for words. All the rage flees from his eyes and it’s quickly replaced by admiration and guilt. Before I know what’s happening, Jimmy’s lips are on mine. I’m shocked, but oddly enough, I’m not upset. The boy pulls away and puts his hand on my wet cheek as the storm continues to come down in sheets around us. “You’re so perfect it makes me angry, and I’m sorry for how I’ve treated-“

I don’t need to hear anything else. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I cant help to pull him back into another kiss. He returns the motion. Kissing me with a passion that’s been building for 15 years. He doesn’t need to speak; I can feel his guilt in the kiss and see it in his eyes. Maybe it’s foolish, but I don’t care. All I care about now is Jimmy’s lips on mine. Our kiss turns from slow and passionate to hard and desperate. Jimmy slips his hands under my ass, and I jump to straddle him.

“Lets go inside Jimmy. Let me get these wet clothes off you,” I pant in his ear. He almost runs, busting the door to my trailer open for the second time today, but this time with me in his arms. He sets me down on my feet not breaking the kiss. Wet clothes go flying around the small space in a whirlwind. Within a minute Jimmy and I are stripped down to the bone. Jimmy carries me over to my bed, laying me gently on my back.

“Jimmy,” I look up at him as water drips from his soaking wet curls onto my bare chest. “Do we really want to do this? I mean we both have some alcohol in our system,” I feel like I’m in a dream, everything has happened so fast.

“Y/N, I know it may not seem like it, but this what I’ve wanted for years. I thought I never had a shot with you, and I feared the rejection. That paired with my jealousy of your ability to lead a normal life...I acted like an idiot. And I’m truly sorry.” Jimmy admits his cheeks redden a bit. I can’t help but smile. I know this should be a sweet moment, but I’m desperate to feel the one man whose always resented me inside of me. I reach up to caress his face.

“I’ll forgive you Jimmy,” My hands snake around the back of his neck to pull his ear down to my mouth. “But only if you fuck me first.” I bite the side of his neck hard, making his breath hitch in his throat. In an instant his already bruised lips are back on mine in a wet kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance, of course he wins. His conjoined fingers reach down to spread my legs. finding his way to my entrance. He dips his hand in, moaning against my mouth at how excited he’s made me. He uses the slick to massage my clit, sending pleasure shoot through my whole body.

“You make me feel so good Jimmy,” I whimper as he leans up to look at my face. He seems to enjoy watching how much pleasure he’s bringing me. He keeps his eyes locked on mine and a big grin on his face as he dips part of his hand in my entrance, the other part still rubbing my clit. The feeling is heavenly, making me arch my back. I moan his name in praise, but he does this for women every weekend. I’m not just one of his whore customers. “I don’t want your hand jimmy,” I reach down grabbing his hand to move it away. He looks confused, almost hurt. “I said I want you to fuck me. I’m not just a bored house wife,” I bring his hand up to my mouth kiss his fingers, tasting myself in them. I want him to know that I’m not insulting his hands, I just want more than them. I sit up reaching between his legs to give his perfect cock a few pumps. His eyes squeeze shut and he tenses at the contact. “I want all of you Jimmy,” I whisper. “Lay down.” I command as I stand from my bed allowing him to lay in my place. He watches me with wide eyes, audibly gulping as I crawl on top of him. Settling between his legs, taking his dick into my mouth. He gasps, his hand quickly finding my hair, pulling it out of my face so he can watch me gag on him.

“Fuck Y/N” his words come out in a husky groan. “Shouldn’t I be pleasing you?” he asks before whispering some more profanity’s. I take his dick out of my mouth with a pop.

“Oh Jimmy don’t worry im I just getting you ready for me,” I grin, sliding his length between my fingers. “As much of a cock block you’ve been the past couple years, you have a lot to make up for,” I remind him as I line him up with my entrance, steadying myself with one hand on his sweaty chest.

“I am more than happy to pay up for that,” he smiles as I tease my self with his tip. “Especially since my efforts were successful. I almost feel sorry for those guys though,” as soon as he’s finished that last word I sit down slowly until he’s entirely inside me, the feeling of him filling me up making my toes curl. Jimmy lets out a breathy moan. “because if a man ever denied me this pleasure, I’ d stomp his fucking brains in. Y/N Y/L/N, you are truly a site to behold.” He grins with a look of lust and admiration in his eyes, reaching up to cup my breasts in his beautiful hands. I begin to grind slowly, my hips moving against his.

“And Jimmy Darling, you surely know how to make girl feel special even when your cock’s buried seven inches inside her,” we laugh as I begin to bounce up in down. The laughter quickly turns to moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Jimmy slides his large hands down to my ass to help me bounce on him, thrusting his hips up as he slams my ass down, repeatedly pounding into me impossibly deep, making me scream out his name so loud I’m sure everyone in the city could hear. A knot begins to form in my stomach and my hand finds its way to my clit rubbing in circles to help my orgasm build. Jimmy seems to be in a trance. His eyes following my body up and down like he’s being hypnotized.

“Just like this Jimmy please! I’m so close,” I scream out. My voice going horse.

“That’s it doll. Cum for me. I need it baby.” he grunts out. Jimmys encouragement pushes me past the tipping point. I come undone around him. Feeling such intense pleasure like I’ve never felt before. I clench and feel myself release, accidently squirting on his stomach, something I’ve only ever done once before. That was enough to make jimmy cum. I was only able to feel embarrassed for a second before jimmy threw me off him, barely able to get me off in time, shooting his thick strands of cum all over my leg as he clumsily attempts the stroke himself. I grab his dick, helping him ride out his orgasm. Jimmy stares into my eyes, his mouth agape, brown curls sticking to his forehead, and-

“Jimmy, are you drooling?” I ask unable to contain my smile. He quickly reaches up to wipe his mouth with his arm.

“I can’t help it doll,” he pants out, his dick still twitching. “you’re just so mesmerizing. I never imagined that I’d see you like this.” He admits. I giggle crawling up to lay my head next to his.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it, because you owe me a lot more, don’t forget.” I remind him. He reaches over and grabs the pack of cigarettes that Thomas left behind, popping one in his mouth. I grab the matches, lighting the white paper for him.

“For this? Doll you come get me, night or day,” he promises, exhaling smoke. I giggle and nuzzle into his chest. This was by far the best apology I’ve ever received.

#evan peters #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling imagines #kit walker x reader #kit walker imagine #kit walker smut #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #ahs asylum #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs cult

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ssahopelessly · 2 years

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Or Something

Synopsis: Spencer Reid doesn’t call out. Ever. A personal day is a foreign concept to him. So how does reader react when he takes a sick day?

A/N: I had intended this to be a blurb but it somehow turned into a oneshot. Inspired by the exchange:

“Kendall’s not here because she’s got the flu or something?”

“I actually didn’t have the flu.”

Warnings: BAU work environment (minus the casework), absense from work, illness, existing close to a sick person, cough

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

The sixth floor was too quiet this afternoon. Aaron Hotchner was in his office, brow furrowed in the way they always did as he looked over paperwork, pile after pile covering his desk. Derek and Emily were sitting across from each other in the bullpen, tossing a paper ball back and forth. Penelope and JJ had been in the roundtable room, preparing something that would soon reveal itself. And Rossi had walked into the break room for another coffee refill. Everyone was here… except, “Where’s Spencer?” I finally voiced, turning to look over at the two still with me among all the desks.

“Oh! He called in sick.” Emily held the paper ball in her hand for just a moment before tossing it back to Derek.

“Sick?” I had to ask aloud to process the fact. That slightly explained his absence, but it still felt like a foreign idea.

“Yes?”

“Spencer Reid does not call in sick.” I mumbled aloud, but mostly to myself, as I gathered my bag and important belongings from my desk surface.

“Where are you going?” I think Derek had asked me. It could’ve been Emily. But it almost didn’t matter. Making my way over to Hotch’s office, I gave him a simple answer for my sudden departure before walking towards the elevator. Spencer Reid doesn’t call out, and Spencer Reid doesn’t really ever get sick.

Spencer hadn’t answered the phone, after I had called about three times. In normal Spencer behaviour, he would maybe answer by the second call, if anything the third. But before I could make a fourth call, I decided it was easier to just show up at his apartment. Knocking on apartment 23’s door, it would’ve been mindful to keep it soft. Because what if he actually was sick? What if he was napping? But there was an instinct in me now that needed to hear from him. There was movement on the other side of the door before the wood left the frame. “What are you-“ he quickly turned his head from me, wrapping his arm over his face, coughing into the oversized sleeve of his cardigan before looking back to me, “what are you doing here?” There was a layer of congestion to his voice, making a reality the phrasing “something sitting on your throat”.

“Oh my god, you are sick.” I wanted to take a step back. If it was a cold, I was not exactly thrilled at the thought of being sick right now. But the need to help him in any capacity was stronger than that fear.

“And you’re going to get it if you don’t leave.” I could feel my lips pressing together at the thought, but one look at him told me more than I knew it could. While the self preservations and paranoia were urgent in not wanting to get sick, I wanted to make sure he was okay. And from the way he looked, he needed someone to look after him and provide that level of care.

“Nope. I’m here to take care of you.” Pushing his door open further, I entered his apartment like it had been any other weekend for the two of us.

“Why?” He groaned from his spot at the door, surely locking it into place.

“Because last time you caught the cold on a case you spent two nights in your hotel room and you were a baby on the jet.” There were a number of tissue boxes around his sofa, on the floor and coffee table. The curtains over the windows hadn’t been drawn back, leaving the room overall dark with a singular lamp illuminating the space. “What was the last thing you ate?”

“Some soup?” Moving past me, he sat on his couch, head immediately falling back to rest against the back of the frame as his eyes closed.

“That’s good!”

“Last night.” His body was wincing as I looked back over to him, eyes squinting as he tried to lean away from me.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” I was starting to feel like my parents, using full government names to chastise. I wasn’t nearly as serious as my parents though, a smile pulling at my lips.

“I was going to make something!” His tone was defensive as he looked over at me, eyes looking to the kitchen and back.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” It was a quiet answer this time, a tone he often never used in the office.

“Go put your ass on the couch, I’ll make you something.” Setting my bag down near his desk, I moved towards his kitchen, immediately trying to figure out where he kept what in the small space of cabinets and drawers.

“You’re exposing yourself the longer you’re here!” He called over from the couch, coughing at the end of his sentence. If he was going to eat anything, he needed to start by drinking something. Thankfully, he had apparently just did a grocery run as his refrigerator wasn’t as empty as it could’ve been. There was a container of orange juice and a clean glass sitting in the dish drainer.

“And I can take care of myself. You-'' Stepping out of his kitchen with the glass of orange juice, I placed it on the coffee table in front of him, “are sick. And I am here for you so-“ he took a few sips of it before laying down on the couch as I returned to the kithcen, trying to think what on earth I could possibly cook for him with whatever he had in his apartment.

It was several hours after the fact. Once he had eaten a solid meal, I encouraged him to go get a shower, if anything hoping the steam would help open his respiratory system so he could breathe easier. While he did so, I ran to the store down the street and got him new medication to start taking, hoping it would make his recovery easier and get him back to his normal self faster. There was a documentary playing on the TV now, something he must’ve put on in my absence. Taking a seat on the couch, he soon joined me, resting his head on my shoulder as he got comfortable. “The team called.”

“And?” I asked, my hand moving to comb through the roots of his hair, his head becoming heavier against my body.

“They want to know why you left the office.” His hands were fumbling to grab the blanket that was bundled at his feet, pulling it up along his body to about his chest and waist. There was a slight tremour coming from him now as he snuggled closer to me.

“Theyre profilers. They can figure it out.” Slightly moving my body along the couch, we soon found ourselves in a position where his head was resting against my chest, my arms resting over him, the blanket over both of us. Continuing to comb my fingers throug his hair, I noticed how he soon became slightly heavier and his breathing had picked up a rhythm. Spencer had fallen asleep in my arms, and it was the best feeling in the world.

Tell me what you think here!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid y/n #spencer reid fandom #oneshot #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #david rossi #ssahopelessly

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daceydeath · 3 months

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Cigarettes and Cliche's (Part 10)

Pairings: Bad Boy Felix x Reader Word Count: 5.5K Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol, Smoking

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to stay away you couldn't even if it might cost you everything and leave you heartbroken you couldn't ignore him.

You felt lighter now that Seungmin and Jeongin knew but you knew they were still going to be protective of you and once they got used to it would start taking the piss out of you. What you didn’t expect though was the kid glove treatment that you got the following morning when they decided to join you at the table while you savored your coffee.

“What are you doing today?” Seungmin asked after swallowing a mouthful of cereal.

“I’m working later but not much” you smiled, noticing they both had bowls so that meant no smoke alarms for burnt toast at least.

“Are you going to see Felix?” Jeongin questioned not looking up at you.

“Is there a reason we are playing twenty questions?” you mused looking at each of them pointedly as flush crept up their ears.

“No, I just am curious,” he blinked owlishly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing today. I could study a bit and I think Changbin and Han wanted to grab dinner at some point so I’m not sure” you shrugged feeling satisfied that they were only being sweet.

“There is a party tonight if you want to come, after work of course, your boyfriend will probably be there” Seungmin smirked which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe it depends on my shift” you sighed feigning indifference even though a spike of nervousness shot through you“I assume you will be spying on him to make sure he behaves himself?”.

“No…well yeah” Jeongin grinned shamelessly.

“To be honest I don't know how people will react if they see us together so soon after the Nali thing” you chewed the inside of your cheek and frowned. Part of you didn't care what people thought you wanted to be with Felix and you were happy but another part of you was scared that people would think you were a liar and that maybe Nali was right about you even though you had proved at the time she wasn't.

“You don't have to worry about that, I swear no one will say anything” Seungmin interjected sympathetically, his hand reaching out to squeeze your forearm. Besides, do you really think that Felix won't punch on if someone insults you? Shit I'll join in too”.

“I would prefer that there were no fights” you rolled your eyes remembering the first time you had met Felix had been due to Seungmin losing a fight.

“Well I won't be getting in any fights, blood would ruin my outfit” Jeongin smirked, not reassuring you at all as he got up to put his cup in the sink.

“Boys.” you sighed heavily, your sarcasm obvious while trying not to smile as you too moved to put your dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in my room if you need me”.

Retreating to your room you sat at your small desk and woke up your laptop, you really should get a little bit more studying in before the final weekend of the break actually hit you and you would need to figure out which tests you could show to your parents without them realizing you had over exaggerated now much work you needed to get done before the starting week of the new semester. An hour passed before you stopped to stare at the screen, your grades were high, your scores were damn good and your lowest grade would be an A- even if you missed a few of the graded minor papers that would be required in the next 10 weeks but you knew that would not be enough for them.

Lix, Do you really think I could change my degree? Would the university inform anyone if I did?

You typed quickly, still not totally comfortable to just call in case he was still sleeping. When you went back to the University portal and left your academic outcomes you clicked on the link giving you information about changing majors, degrees or doctorates scanning the pages for what the most negative outcome would be for you. With the grades you had in the mathematical side you would be pretty much level in that aspect of the change but you would have to add a whole extra year to be able to achieve the design grades for you to be able to graduate.

You want to change to architecture? That’s great baby I’m so proud of you x

The uni wouldn’t tell anyone unless it fucked up your scholarship. But I will help you figure it out, my super smart baby.

Your stomach dropped, your scholarship, how could you forget something so important the only reason you could attend was that scholarship and if it jeopardized that there was no way you could even afford to attend university anymore let alone add a year to change your career. Taking a couple of deep breaths you picked up your phone and dialed Felix if he answered he was awake at least. It only rang once before his deep albeit croaky voice filled your ear.

“Morning baby” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.

“Did I wake you Lix? I’m sorry” you pouted apologetically, your cursor hovering over the button leading to the contact of the administration about how they could help you.

“Nah I’ve been awake for a while, just had a late night “you could hear the smile in his voice “you want to change your degree? That’s a huge deal baby I’m proud of you”.

“I want to, I want to be able to do what I want in my life” you admitted the heat climbing up your neck as he snickered quietly.

“Do what you want hey? Like sneaking off and getting a boyfriend?” you could almost see the smug face you knew he was pulling. “Going on dates and partying?”.

“Something like that” you mumbled feeling shy “but only if it doesn’t mess up my scholarship”.

“We can sort that out if it comes to it but it might not” Felix reassured you, the sound of fabric moving was distracting you slightly.

“What are you doing? I can hear all this moving” you asked trying to distract Felix from provoking you any further.

“I’m still in bed baby, just looking at the view, wishing you were here and as half dressed as I am” he teased huskily, making the blood rush not only to your face in embarrassment but also far lower on your anatomy.

“I’m hanging up now” you groaned, placing your other hand on your cheek to cool it down.

“No baby don’t go I’m just playing I promise” he protested sincerely “There is a party tonight do you want to come with me? Did you want to come over here since they guys will be going and we could hang out”.

“I have work this afternoon so If you want to go you should I can text you if I’m going and we can decide then. I don’t want to pull you away from all your fun to have a boring night with me” you smiled honestly not minding at all Felix had proved you could trust him after all.

“I would rather have fun with you than go to a party and spend the night thinking about you” Felix admitted, clearing his throat softly as soon as the words left his mouth, his words making you feel warm all over.

“Alright Lix, I’ll talk to you later” you whispered, turning your attention back to your screen to click on the email template for making an appointment to change up your degree.

“You will baby” Felix answered making a small kiss noise before hanging up leaving you feeling flustered all over again. Giggling breathily you had to admit he was a massive flirt when he wanted to be and he flustered you so easily it was almost pathetic.

Filling out all your details and your questions about changing from accounting to architecture and whether that would affect your finances and scholarship you hit send and hoped that you would get an answer before the start of classes. Checking the time you got yourself ready for work, when you finally emerged from your solitude you found Seungmin and Jeongin booting up the game console in the lounge so they could play something while you went to get a snack.

“Guys I’m thinking about doing something drastic and I want your opinion” you announced flopping onto the other couch to watch them play.

“Is it drastically stupid like sleeping with Felix? Or is it drastic like quitting your job?” Seungim asked jokingly, not looking at you.

“I’m thinking of changing my degree” you confessed, making Jeongin drop his controller and Seungmin hit pause immediately so they could both gawk at you.

“You're dropping out of accounting?” Jeongin blinked at you confused.

“Well I’d change from accounting to something I would rather do, since being an accountant is what my parents wanted me to be” you explained carefully.

“What would you change it to?” Seungmin asked, perplexed that you were going to give up a degree you were working so hard on.

“Architecture, that’s what I wanted to do” you continued the corners of your lips turning upward as you watched their confusion melt away into encouraging smiles.

“You should do it, shouldn’t she Seung? You should follow the career you want” Jeongin nodded excitedly, elbowing Seungmin.

“Fuck yeah you should” Seungmin grinned “If it will make you happy then do it you would be incredible at it”.

“Even if it means I would have to move back into the dorms because I couldn’t pay to live here anymore? Even if it means a whole extra year added to my studies? Even if it means my scholarship might be in jeopardy?” you stressed each question falling as rapidly as gunfire from your lips.

“Yes” Seungmin nodded earnestly “Absolutely”.

“Your so smart and have such good grades you could probably get another scholarship or even a full ride one so you wouldn’t have to worry about your parents anymore at all” Jeongin’s eyes lit up as he thought up ideas for how to work around any obstacles “You wouldn’t need to move we could totally cover your rent for a while anyway until you either got a better job than the coffee shop or you started getting Study Aid payments”.

“You couldn’t do that Innie! I wouldn’t let you” you insisted back gently not wanting to sound ungrateful for his support but also not willing to take advantage of him.

“We could and we would” Seungmin shrugged “But that is getting way ahead of ourselves anyway”. Easily dismissing the idea before it could become a proper issue between you all “We would only need to worry about that if it came to it”.

“So I guess don’t think it's a stupid idea then?” you sighed feeling like it mustn’t be that far fetched if the smartest of your friends thought it wasn’t dumb.

“It’s a great idea, you should talk to Han about it. He changed his degree after only half a semester when he first started because he realized he hated what he had chosen” Jeongin added, picking up his controller again.

“I’ll even say dating a man whore isn’t a dumb idea if he gets you to make decisions about doing things that you want to do for your life instead of living for your parents” Seungmin waggled his eyebrows at you.

“Seung fuck off” you grumbled thowing a cushion at him and going to make a coffee “I could have way stupider ideas like telling my parents I want to change career options…. Or dating Minho”.

You had been at work for a little over an hour when you noticed Changbin and Chan wander in, each giving you a little wave before grabbing a seat in the back corner of the cafe still deep in their own conversation. From your spot behind the coffee machine you could see that it seemed to be a serious chat between the two of them with Changbin looking slightly annoyed at whatever Chan was saying but your attention instantly turned to the register when you heard Han’s voice ordering their drinks. He moved over towards the end of the counter where you were working leaning casually against the wood countertop.

“Hey, you still up for dinner with the three of us tomorrow?” He greeted you energetically while watching you steam another jug of milk.

“Of course, unless you have more exciting plans” you giggled watching him start bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“Nope, getting to hang out with you without Seung and Innie is a treat we will not pass up” Han informed you with an overly dramatic wink.

“I’ll bring your drinks over to you. I'm due my first break by then” you smiled gesturing him to go and sit down, which he did joining back into their conversation. You made the four drinks Han had ordered, confused about the fourth but still, but took them over all the same after slipping off your apron and grabbing your phone. One of your other coworkers had already delivered the food that Han had ordered and they were already picking at a basket of fries by the time you got to the table

“The last ones for you before you ask” Han interrupted your thoughts making you huff out a small laugh on your way to put the tray back on the counter before joining them again.

“So where are we going for dinner and what time?” you asked, looking between them for answers.

“The new fancy burger place a few blocks from here and what time do you finish?” Changbin replied, taking his first sip of coffee and closing his eyes to enjoy it “God I needed coffee”.

“Happy to provide it” you nodded and I’ll be finished at 7 tomorrow” you smiled.

“Oh we will meet you here then if you like, you don’t need to get changed, it's just a burger place” Chan stated easily “unless you want to go home and change, in which case I’ll pick you up from the apartment if that’s better for you?”.

“I’m not making you drive to my place and get me since it’s the opposite direction Chan” you sighed “but I will go home and change. I'm too clumsy to stay perfectly clean for a whole shift”.

“Easy We will pick you up at 7:45 then” Chan grinned, making Han laugh and you roll your eyes.

“None of us are letting you walk that far after it's gotten dark” Changbin smirked, “just let him win”.

“Fine you win! 7:45 at the apartment then” you groaned playfully while drinking the iced coffee Han had so generously ordered for you.

“There is a party that the others are all heading to that we were thinking about hitting tonight” Han added meeting your eyes “It will be larger than the last one but we will look after you, even get the manwhores in on it inbetween their slutty behaviors”.

“I’ll think about it” you relented knowing that you would end up going because you were feeling that it was greedy to steal Felix away from his friends constantly. “Oh! Changbin I forgot Hana asked me to give you her number if you were remotely interested” you looked at him happily to change the topic of conversation.

“Hana? Do I know a Hana?” Changbin narrowed his eyes and poked the tip of his tongue out between his lips as he thought hard about who this mystery girl was.

“She’s the coworker who thought you were cute the other day” you giggled making him relax as Han and Chan chuckled at him.

“Oh yeah you said that, sure” he shrugged, opening his phone for you to add her details.

“It’s only if you want though I didn’t promise her anything” you added as you saved her number and slid his phone back to him.

“Changbin has had his eye on someone but I think he may have figured out it’s one-sided” Han teased mercilessly, picking up several fries and shoving them in his mouth as Changbin glared at him.

“Not like he did anything about it so how would she even have known?” Chan added snickering as the flush that was forming on Changbin’s cheeks deepened.

“Don’t listen to them if she knows but doesn’t act on it she is dumb” you smiled sweetly at Changbin hoping to make him feel better “But if she doesn’t know that’s on you big guy because I’m sure you’re a catch”.

“Yeah I was slow on it and she’s interested in someone else I’m pretty sure, but Hana was pretty but I’m not sure if she’s your friend you have shown you have poor taste” Changbin retorted but smiled at you regardless.

“Wow. I mean sure blame me for the fact that the man whore’s caused problems” you spluttered jokingly. “Especially since pretty much all my friends are your friends too. What does that say about you?”.

“So are any of you going to tell me who the girl was or am I going to have to guess?” you smirked remembering that Seungmin had flippantly told you that Changbin would be crushed by the news of your dating status change.

“Umm… that isn’t important but I have heard a strange rumor from Minho” Han butted in, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh yeah and what would that be?” you tried sounding sarcastic but it instead sounded flat, you knew that Minho must have already started dropping hints to the others hoping to catch you out.

“Apparently that hoodie you wore to our place wasn’t yours, apparently it belongs to a guy” he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee and looking straight at you.

“So this juicy rumor is that I borrowed a hoodie?” you replied dryly, pursing your lips to contain the laugh that was trying to escape you.

“When you say it like that it doesn’t sound as suspicious” Han whined admitting his defeat by shoving some more fries in his mouth and grumbling around them.

“But ok then I admit it, it wasn’t my hoodie” you chuckled watching him sulk as Chan raised his eyebrows ready to question you again but you cut him off by standing up and grabbing your almost finished drink. “My break is over, I'll see you later”.

Going back behind the counter and putting your apron back on you quickly let Felix know what you were doing, he could be the one to decide how public your dating would be and you would just go with it.

Lix I think I want to go to the party tonight xx

Not waiting for an answer you began making more coffees for the orders that had come in during the changeover between your break and your co workers. Hoping the rest of the shift wouldn’t drag on too much and that Chan didn’t come over to ask you any more questions.

I’ll pick you up baby.

Fuck I’ve missed you I hope you don’t mind if I can’t keep my hands off you.

Unless you don’t want me too ;)

Blood rushed to your cheeks as his messages came in one after the other making you feel almost dizzy, you mentally slapped yourself and tried desperately to concentrate on work.

You rushed home after your shift to give you time to get ready, Seungmin was showering when you got in so you passed his room completely before knocking on Jeongin's door.

"What's up?" he questioned, opening the door for you but going instantly back to his bed where he was putting together possible outfits for the night.

"Innie you have a far better fashion sense than me. Can I get some advice?" you grimaced knowing he was going to either tease you or complain about your entire wardrobe.

"Are you coming with us tonight?" his eyes widened excitedly. “Do you need my help to make you look hot for your new boyfriend?”.

"I was going to go with you but if you’re going to tease me all night I won’t. I thought I should ask you for help because maybe I should look at least a little bit nicer. Especially since it will be the first time I'm at a frat party with Felix, and I don't actually know IF he's even going to acknowledge that we are together in public yet. But I don't want him to be disappointed that I didn't make an effort to look nice and not embarrass him" you rambled until you almost ran out of breath leaving Jeongin looking at you like you were unintentionally hilarious but that he understood your concerns so he was trying really hard not to laugh at you.

"Felix doesn’t care how you dress, obviously, and I’m sure he would never be embarrassed by you either'' Jeongin shook his head letting a small giggle escape his throat.

“Thank you Innie” you sighed heavily, chewing on your lip as he looked you over.

"Come on let's see what I can do with your terrible closet" he sighed dramatically walking out of his room and towards yours while you huffed and followed him dragging your feet. Jeongin basically emptied your entire wardrobe looking at everything you owned frowning, sighing, rolling his eyes and then frowning again.

"We are going shopping after this" he grumbled putting his hand up towards you without even looking at you "that is a statement not a request your clothes are tragic".

"I'm not going to be taking up partying Innie" you sulked instantly realizing how much of your savings he would insist you blow on clothes that were unimportant anyway since you might not be able to afford them later.

"Stop thinking so hard" Seungmin smirked from the doorway no doubt hearing the conversation while he was getting dressed. "He won't let you pay for it so you might as well make it easier for yourself".

"So do I have anything worthy of wearing or should I just stay home so I don't cause you a lifetime of shame for being seen with me?" you whined as Jeongin held out his hands with a large black lump of fabric in it.

"This skirt and top with a pair of tights, black preferably but your lace once would work too, with your boots and I will lend you a jacket if you promise not to get it filthy" he smiled pleased with his decision.

"Alright if you are sure'' you nodded, smiling relieved as you were not sure if you would regret this but at least Jeongin deemed this to be enough to not embarrass yourself in public. Jeongin left your room shoving Seungmin playfully as he passed, letting the door swing shut behind him. Pondering your decision one last time you pulled your shirt over your head and started undoing your jeans.

"Wear a nice bra too, would you" Jeongin yelled through the door making you jump.

"Innie!" you screamed feeling both panicked and annoyed at his audacity, you heard him laugh again as you begrudgingly followed his instructions and found a nicer bra to put on instead of the plain pale blue one you had on. You were annoyed when you looked at yourself in the mirror and realized he had been right, even down to the bra, you did look considerably better than you usually looked even when you tried to look pretty but you were never going to admit that. The black top clung to you in a flattering way and the skirt fell just past your mid thigh. Your black tights gave you a little more cover and you knew your boots would make it look casual enough to not look overdressed. Scrunching up your face you went into the bathroom to touch up your makeup and finish getting ready.

Going back into the lounge you were not expecting to find both of your roommates waiting for you to show them your outfit but both nodded approvingly as you carried your combat boots out with you.

“I would say I have excelled given how boring your clothes are” Jeongin poked fun at you again while motioning for you to turn around so he could see the full outfit.

“Pretty” Seungmin smiled before looking down at his phone “Should we grab something on the way or order in?”.

“Order in” you suggested going into the kitchen to look what there may have been in the fridge to snack on.

“Easy, did you want a lift with us? Is Felix coming to get you?” Seungmin continued tapping away on his phone ordering whatever it was he wanted.

“He said he would pick me up” you called your head still in the fridge frowning because you were sure it had only been a few days since Jeongin had been shopping and there was hardly any food left. You could hear them bickering about how how much tteokbokki to order on the side so when the buzzer for the lobby doors sounded you knew you would need to answer it, pressing the button you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips when you saw Felix, who blew you a kiss, in the video screen.

“I’ve ordered” Seungmin called down the hall going back to whatever he was doing before you left your room. A soft knock drew your attention straight back to the door which you tried not to wrench open too quickly.

“Shit baby” Felix whistled looking you up and down before stepping inside and pulling you into his arms to kiss you gently “you look too good”. You shyly buried your head into his shoulder, slapping him softly on his shoulder.

“Come in we're just waiting on some food so the boys don’t get annihilated again” you took his hand and led him down the hallway only to stop as soon as you entered the lounge room unsure if you should be holding Felix’s hand or if that was considered too childish.

“Hey Felix” Seungmin nodded, grabbing his game controller. “Want a match before we leave?”

“You mean you want me to beat you before we go out? Odd form of foreplay but whatever” Felix smirked, stepping around you and going over to the couch where Seungmin was already loading whatever game he wanted to play.

“Here I said I would give you a jacket” Jeongin smiled, handing you a black and white leather varsity jacket. You just smiled gratefully placing it on the dining table beside your purse not noticing that Felix kept sneaking glances at you or that Seungmin was fully taking advantage of that to take out Felix’s character earning a loud shout from him.

After eating the four of you left for the party your nerves start to wreak havoc with your thoughts as you squeeze into the back of the Uber between Jeongin and Felix, the latter wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you tucked against him. Pulling up to the house you could see just how many people were milling around in the front yard and on the porch you subconsciously wrapped Jeongin’s jacket around yourself tighter as you stepped from the car. You had been told by several of the guys that it was going to be a far larger party than the last one but you hadn’t really registered how much bigger until Felix wrapped his arms around you from behind kissing your ear.

“I’m with you, nothing will happen” the feeling of his warm breath on your sensitive skin made you shiver letting him take your hand and interlace your fingers to lead you inside to find your mutual friends.

“Finally Lix! Minho has already fucked off and I need a wingman for that set of twins I met last week” Hyunjin called over the thumping bass.

“Yeah Nah” Felix laughed, making it through the last line of people and moving you in front of him, his arms around your waist again.

“Fuck me you’re at another party! Minho owes me” Hyunjin cackled, not even looking disappointed that Felix turned him down.

“Woah, woah, woah. What the fuck is this?” Han spat a mouthful of beer out barely missing covering Changbin with a mist of beer.

“Hi guys” you waved, not sure if your voice was loud enough to be heard over the music. At Felix’s urging you moved between the guys and the coffee table to the couch that sat at the back of the room, Felix sat pulling you into his lap letting you get comfortable so you could see everyone, his hands finding their place on your hips.

“So this is new” Chan blinked, returning with another armful of beers from somewhere.

“Um yeah, it is” you smiled unsure of how to answer Chan since although you were together you hadn’t really announced anything.

“Felix” Changbin warned, sounding annoyed but also wary.

“Her roomies know and they are ok with it, so don’t start” Felix groaned.

“I can make my own decisions guys” you interrupted “and I am literally right here” you rolled your eyes as Seungmin returned with a plastic cup handing it to you.

“It’s lemonade and I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he grinned looking back towards some girl you assumed before disappearing into the crowd again.

“Congratulations are in order then” Han smiled tilting his bottle towards you.

Talking turned into taking the piss and the drunker the guys all got the funnier they were, Seungmin had slinked back to join you all looking far more disheveled than he needed to be with a fresh hickey on his neck and a deep blush that flared up as soon as Changbin mentioned it. Hyunjin disappeared and didn’t return because you assume he had managed to convince the twins to give him a shot without help and Minho finally appeared looking like the cat that got the cream.

“You know” Minho started a conspiratorial smirk plastered on his face “I think if one of you knocked on the last bedroom door upstairs Hyunjin might need a hand” he put his hands up as though it was an innocent suggestion. “Just saying”. You could feel the rumble of laughter that rumbled through Felix’s ribcage into your back from where you sat on his lap as Han lept from the couch and took off with a tipsy crooked run that it was either going to be a good night for him or an utter disaster.

You felt more and more comfortable the longer you sat listening to them talk and watching people come and go, you could still feel eyes burning into you now and then as though people couldn’t believe that you were sitting in Felix’s lap for so long with him seemingly completely happy with it. Finally you needed to move so you could pee, making your way through the throngs of drunk people you made your way upstairs to the bathroom avoiding as many couples hooking up in the hallways and behind closed doors as possible. Waiting behind a group of girls to use the bathroom you heard them gossiping. You tried to tune them out, frowning as one of them blew smoke all over you not even noticing you were there, you rolled your eyes as you watched them share a horrible neon pink drink that looked like it would glow in the dark, you still didn’t like parties. When you returned downstairs to where you had left the guys you found there was only Jeongin still sitting and waiting for you looking a little worse for wear.

“Aw Innie, do I need to get you home?” you giggled patting his hair before he got up swaying slightly under the influence of the alcohol.

“Maybe” he laughed, grabbing your jacket and pulling you along until you were on the back porch almost causing the two of you to fall over the threshold. “I found her” he sang, holding your arm up like a prize.

“Here I thought Seungmin was the puppy” Changbin roared laughing as Seungmin tried to kick his shins and failed miserably.

“Baby, did you want to go?” Felix asked, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“I think Innie needs to go home and by the looks of it Seung too” you sighed as Seungmin frowned, still pointing at Changbin. “You can stay, it's fine”.

“Nah if you leave I leave simple as that” Felix grinned tucking the cigarette behind Minho’s ear as he stepped around Chan to get to you, his fingertips sliding under the seam of your top. “Besides I’ll get us a cab”.

“Are you sure?” you pushed gently as he tucked his phone away “I don’t want to ruin your fun”.

“You will never ruin my fun baby” he smirked, pulling you against him and kissing you deeply to the cheers of the guys around you which only made you hide your face in his chest.

A/N: I'm sorry that it was a fairly slow chapter but thanks for sticking with me all the same I will try to update this more frequently but I'll have to see how I go. Love you all to bits xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @bakedlilgoonie @shiy @is2cb97 @beautifulixr @skyhold-tara @army-stay-noel @skizzel-reblogs @facelesswrittes @animehideout @mrsseals16 @honey-pop @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @seungminluv3 @obeythemasters @tanzen-ist-gold @thicccurls @juskz @3rachasninja @reiheis @partyparty-yah @leeknowyah @warren-thedarkangel @highlydestiny

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captain-joongz · 3 months

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Abraxas; Act 1, Chapter 2 Part 2

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police office!reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, humour, angst, investigation themes, dark themes, eventual smut, slowburn, some fluff

Chapter summary: As spring time comes, the police station finds itself intensely focused on several cold murder cases linked to the gangs. Amidst this chaos, it's hard to find time for anything else except for grappling with the position in the team and the burning ambition to be accepted, but something lovely might just be awaiting right behind the corner. The complicated relationship with the Min gang continues to get even more muddled.

Chapter word count: 18.3k

Warnings: discussion of crimes and murders, mentions of violence and gore (nothing too graphic, they're vaguely describing a murder scene), general anxiety? (our girl is NERVOUS in this one), Yoongi almost isn't in this chapter, start of reader x OC, gets suggestive at the end (it's not with Yoongi but he IS endgame, dw), also this chapter might be a bit slower and investigation and exposition heavy

Previous part | Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: unexpected sleepover kept me busy most of the weekend but here finally comes the second part of the chapter, i'm so excited for you to read the ending hehehe! let me know in the comments or through asks what you think, i'm curious to know your opinions! <3

The early summer heat was already hitting halfway through May, and as I sat in the station that was barely AC-ed, I suffered like a dog through the sudden and surprising rises of temperatures in between of bouts of rains.

Truthfully, looking out of the window, I wasn’t sure whether I’d rather be sitting here in a half empty dead office with barely anyone present (6 o’clock on a Friday afternoon usually not pulling much traffic around these parts) or sitting in full leather on my bike by some seedy club peeping at what Jungkook was doing this particular evening like a creep.

I wasn’t able to put much time into any extracurricular activities, the current task I’ve been made responsible of forced me to spend most of my time behind a desk, scrolling through endless police reports, paparazzi photos and news articles, taking names of cases and trying to find out what kind of people they were and who they were associated with. And after the hours and hours I’ve spent on this I was truly starting to get sick of it, almost missing the few days I spent watching a warehouse in the middle of the winter only to get trolled by Yoongi. Obviously, I wasn’t made for an office job.

With a sigh I finally gave up after trying to focus on the currently opened case on my table and dragged myself to a bistro on the corner. I’ve been drinking so much coffee these past few weeks I was on the verge of throwing up anytime I just saw a brown paper cup, but I soldiered through for the fresh batch of caffeine that would allow me to die a little slower and more painfully. And as I waited in the line, I dreaded returning to the station and continuing in what’s been my sole purpose in life for days upon days.

Still not being able to move anywhere with Jungkook kind of haunted me, it stayed at the back of my mind practically every day, just calling me to go out there and do something. But I couldn’t exactly spend the whole night chasing shadows when I had to show up to work at 7 am. Sometimes I would wonder what Yoongi thought about my sudden absence, whether he was trying to uncover some mastermind psychological warfare plan while I was really just too busy to do anything other than sit in that damn building and sleep, but admittedly it did always put a little smile on my face imagining him being silly over why I’m not following his every step like before.

Occasionally I would tag along with the team for additional interviews and questionings, stand behind Minjoon and listen and absorb their strategies. Unfortunately, all the people we talked to, all the witnesses who were mostly workers from around the warehouse, they knew very well to keep their mouth shut about anything illegal. In the end we couldn’t get more out of them than them hearing shots and calling the police. Nobody saw anything and heard nothing beyond that, as it seemed.

But we knew we were going to hit the wall here, no one in their right mind would snitch like this, especially if this truly was the Min gang. For all the neutral demeanour and suave charismatic energy, people were still terrified of Yoongi. No matter the image he had right now, no matter how much he tried to situate himself as a businessman unconcerned with the underworld, everybody still remembered how he came up, how much violence it took for him to take his place, how much blood was spilt and continued to be spilt any time someone went against him. You didn’t act up against a man like that.

And given the fact the Kims were somehow involved as well, it was double the risk. A single word could cost you your life, no matter which side the hit came from.

That only left us with carefully dissecting the lives of the victims, trying to find out how they got there and who they messed with to end up massacred on a floor of a run-down warehouse in Incheon, which was a feat in and of itself, but Minjoon and Seungcheol worked on that diligently. I sometimes met him just as he was about to leave to presumably go question someone about them, but I haven’t heard much from them yet. So lately we were all mostly stuck behind our computers.

I shook my head at nothing in particular and with one last sigh I picked myself up and went back to the station coffee in hand, resigning myself to another few hours of ruining my eyesight and back at that stupid little cramped desk. These past two weeks really made me realise just how on each other we were in that little space, and how Park sat comfortably in his office doing god knows what.

When I arrived back, I was shocked to see Minjoon suddenly back sitting by his own desk submerged deep into whatever it was he was looking at. He barely even registered my entrance, and I deliberated on going up to him or going back to my own desk to not disrupt him, but in the end decided to procrastinate just a while longer.

Minjoon looked up as soon as he heard footsteps approaching and we exchanged friendly but tired smiles while he pulled out a chair next to him for me to sit at.

“Doing overtime too, I see,” he greeted me with, eyes once again glued to the monitor. I looked over his shoulder to see him reading up on a report of a crime from two years ago. The name was very familiar to me after all these days. It was one of the guys from the warehouse.

“You going over what Park Doyun was involved in again?” I jumped straight into reading the report alongside with him. It was an armed robbery from two years ago, but due to a mess up in the prosecution they were acquitted on some obscure technicality. It was honestly a huge embarrassment, because there was some good evidence, but it all went down the drain. It was the first thing that really smacked us in the face once we put the guys through the police database, because everyone was talking about it around the precinct and Minjoon immediately made the connection.

“Yeah, supposedly there was a third accomplice, but I can’t find any mention of anyone else being involved,” Minjoon muttered somewhat dejectedly, the exhaustion showing through his expression and posture. I patted him on the shoulder, trying to bring his spirits up while I was just as sick of this as he was. He only shot me a grateful smile over his shoulder and went back into the report.

The Police Academy truly doesn’t prepare you for the hours and hours of just pure research and paperwork, what a lie.

“Is that what one of the people in the neighbourhood told you?” I queried some more, desperate to distract myself from my own tasks long enough to gain some strength to go back to it. Minjoon hummed absentmindedly, but in the end gave up as well and turned to me.

“Yeah, it was the most I could get from this one old lady sitting by a convenience store on his corner,” the detective said around a yawn, decompressing into the chair and letting the day just wash over him. It was obvious that whatever he was doing today was catching up to him, and it didn’t surprise me much given that he was gone for most of the afternoon.

“What do you got so far?” I leaned back on my chair as well and turned so that we were face to face, and we just lounged there for a moment smiling at each other cheekily, “About the whole thing.”

That got Minjoon sighing again, wiping his hand over his face. “Most is the usual stuff,” the man started, launching into another long monologue brought up by my questions, “out of the six victims, two grew up in the same neighbourhood down in Gojan-dong. You know, the same old – not the greatest families, poor backgrounds, started messing around the block and got into a lot of trouble. That’s where the reports start flying in. The other four are from around there as well, but not as close by.”

I sat on the information for a moment, as this was the first time I outright asked about the details. “So they’re all from Incheon anyway?” I ended up saying, and Minjoon only nodded.

“Two of them lived pretty close to each other, went to the same school, and they have that one record together,” he continued talking, “but you know how it gets. The people living around there only talk about how pitiful it is they fell off the good path, and if there is something more organised going on beneath, they either don’t know about it, don’t want to know about it or will never talk to a cop about it.”

“But we can be pretty sure they were already tight back then,” I hummed. Minjoon moved a little on his chair to get more comfortable. I saw his eyes jump to the time showcasing on his computer before he turned back to me and the conversation, and I was suddenly hit with the realisation that he most likely wanted to go home and I was keeping him here.

“Yeah, according to the teachers they were troublemakers and there was some violence happening on other students,” Minjoon expanded on that, “and one also mentioned a kid from a school on another block that they used to hang out with a lot that was also known for trouble, but she couldn’t remember his name. She wasn’t very surprised that they died in a gang affiliated murder though, according to her they were most probably dealing already back then between the peers.”

“That’s tough, that’s real tough. Surviving on the streets like that just gets you involved in all kinds of trouble” the empathetic words spilled from my mouth before I could really think twice about it and I panicked a little. I wasn’t sure how much the people around the unit knew about my childhood, but it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with any of them, even Minjoon. Some things were just better left in the past, especially since it’d probably make my colleagues dislike me more.

“Yeah, but the worst thing is that I just can’t get the name of that third kid,” Minjoon carried on completely submerged into his own world, “I showed her pictures of the other guys, but she didn’t recognise them. Then I was trying to choke some info from an old lady sitting by one of their addresses, but she only mentioned that there were three boys involved in that robbery but couldn’t remember the third one because he was from a nearby neighbourhood, just that these three were always together and didn’t do anything good.”

“And it’s not any of the other four guys?” I asked once more, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Minjoon shook his head and leaned back onto his chair, just watching me with tired but smiling eyes.

“But I think it’s a safe bet that these three must have stood at the beginning of everything, I just can’t get the name of the last kid,” Minjoon finished with a sigh, fingers subconsciously playing with the hem of his shirt, “I don’t know how they got into the big game or where the other dude is though.”

“Do you think there’s a possibility he escaped? That he’s alive somewhere but skipped cities or something to get away from the trouble?” I pondered out loud, as we both exchanged conspiratory glances, but Minjoon just shrugged.

“I mean, anything is possible in this game really,” the detective closed the conversation with a definitive nod of his head. I thought that was my cue to go back to my desk and let him leave, but he surprised me with turning the conversation around on me.

“What about the files? How are you doing?” he asked suddenly just as I was preparing to stand up and go. For a split second I looked at him surprised, and then relaxed into the chair again with a smile.

“Honestly, it’s such an annoying work,” I complained a little whinily, allowing myself to be a little more open with Minjoon, “I have to go through every little article, report and a picture on the internet concerning the victim. Some of them are normal working class people who worked around the docks or clubs, but some are wealthy bastards.” Minjoon chuckled at me, fingers drumming a calming beat into the table.

“Some have no ties to Yoongi at all apart from like eating at his restaurant once or staying at his hotel, but some I think are worth investigating into,” I went on, giving Minjoon the opportunity to just listen to me babble for once and not the other way around, “like some businessmen that have done deals with some of Yoongi’s shadow companies or were frequent visitors of his clubs, there was this one dude that was really closely related to some charity events Yoongi put on. I think it’s worth looking into those.”

Minjoon smiled at me brightly, his whole persona suddenly lighting up at hearing me talk about the case. He straightened up and leaned towards me, hand grabbing my shoulder in a gesture that has become very familiar to me coming from him to a point when I had to fight an embarrassed blush and a smile at the warmth and pride it filled me with.

“Good job, Y/N, good job,” he said earnestly, eyes looking straight into mine until the direct contact got a little too intense and I dodged it, “I knew I could count on you with this.” This time I really did blush, an intense feeling of vindication filling me at finally having someone recognise the work I was putting into this case. I mumbled my thanks to him, too overwhelmed to even look up, but I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder in answer before he retracted it back.

“I put them into different groups,” I jumped back into the explanation to escape the atmosphere change, “the ones that are inconclusive when it comes to gang involvement, the ones that are mostly low-tier workers around the gang affiliated hotspots and the big wigs that died under strange circumstances and most likely were closely related to Yoongi’s business in one way or the other.”

I didn’t even realise I had naturally switched into calling him Yoongi even in front of Minjoon, but thankfully he either didn’t notice or didn’t think it strange. Once I clocked it though, I promised myself to make sure to never make the same mistake in front of Hwang or Park, who I didn’t want to risk questioning me about it. Was I paranoid? Maybe, but I had a good reason for it with my track record.

“Have you looked through all of them?” came Minjoon’s question after a few moments of silence and I startled minutely before shaking my head in response.

“Not yet, I’ve got like a case and a half left,” I answered him truthfully, the distaste over having to go back to my desk and keep researching this file still rotting on my table resurfacing and souring my mood. I had managed to forget I’d still need to return to it once Minjoon left and it had me slumping into my chair.

The man must have noticed my change in mood, since he gave me a small encouraging smile and then leaned towards me somewhat conspiratorially before lightly enquiring “you wanna get out of here and grab something for dinner?”. I visibly relaxed at the offered out and nodded enthusiastically basically before he even finished speaking, making him laugh heartily.

In one swift movement he was standing on his feet offering me his hand. I took it gingerly and let him haul me up, the feelings of guilt that have been eating me away for not dedicating more of my time to the task soothed by Minjoon’s approval of ditching work.

It didn’t take us long to turn off computers and collect our belongings before we both headed out into the still incredibly hot air of the parking lot in front of the station. He must have been just as excited to leave as me, with how gingerly he led us out and towards his car, only stopping when I lightly grabbed his arm. The officer turned his whole body to me, surprise and confusion written over his face at my sheepish expression. I gestured towards the other side of the parking lot where a solitary dark car stood parked.

“I’m here by car as well, we could go to the restaurant down the street so we can both leave by car?” I suggested and Minjoon as quickly brightened up and agreed.

Thus we found ourselves sitting over our respective bowls of kimchi jjigae just a few minutes later. This was a known spot for us, as they fed most of the police force from our station with the homely family run restaurant located only three minutes by foot away from our office. When we walk in, the kind middle-aged lady running it already greets us by our names and knows our tastes by heart. It was such a nice feeling to have a place like that, I had to admit that.

We both must have been pretty hungry, because for the first half none of us even spoke, too focused on our bowls and stuffing our faces like a pair of vultures. Once the dust settled and we were handing the empty dishes back to the smiling woman, we found ourselves once again just looking at each other not knowing how to start up a conversation. After few moments of awkward silence, Minjoon decided to break the ice.

“You mentioned you sorted the cases into three groups, right?” he started off the subject of our work again, waiting for me to nod and then continuing, “Once you get through them all, you should pull out the other cases we have connected to Yoongi and look through them again with the new ones in mind. There might have been things lost or not noticed.”

The feeling of disappointment that hit me was almost palpable in the air, and I felt my expression freezing into an awkward smile trying to not let it show outwardly. I didn’t want to anger Minjoon or make him feel bad about this, and I did realise I was a total newbie to the unit and a newbie to this particular investigation, but I would lie if I said it didn’t hurt that I seemed to be eternally stuck behind the computer while the others actually did all the investigating.

Minjoon still must have felt my lack of enthusiasm, even though I tried to show my agreement as happily as I could muster, and he hit me with another sheepish apologetic smile.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the man begun, hands on instinct raising as if trying to console me, “but this could be your own thing, you know? It would be your call and your own investigation. We could also ask the violent crime team to help you out with questionings.” Now, that did sound marginally better, and I found myself swaying. I mean, I really didn’t have much choice, I would still agree even if I was truly just a glorified secretary to them, otherwise I’d be booted of the team quicker than I could say ‘fuck you’. But like this, it at least didn’t feel like a complete lost.

“So, once I went through the cases, I’d have free range and I could try to investigate and close some of them?” I made sure before I truly consented to anything, and when Minjoon nodded and agreed, I relaxed a little bit.

“Okay then,” finally I accepted, “I’ll look through the old cases too.” That seemed to make him very happy, and he made sure to smile at me brightly and shower me in gratitude and praises, but I couldn’t really help the sinking feeling at imagining myself going through more cold cases. At least there was a clear end to that in sight with these.

After that the conversation shifted slightly to lighter topics and Minjoon ended up telling me some funny stories about our colleagues’ mishaps at work. I laughed at them heartily while feeling this strange rift between us deepen even more, realising more than ever that I was truly a stranger in this unit full of people who actually somewhat liked each other.

I promised myself that this time next year, I will be sitting here with the whole unit and be a part of those fun stories as well.

Later in the evening, as we walked leisurely back to our cars after finishing up at the food joint, Minjoon suddenly seemed a little more hesitant and withdrawn. At first I saw it as a reluctance to part after a nicely spent evening, but soon I came to realise that there was something he wasn’t sure how to tell me. I could see it written all over his guilty unsure face, mouth opening for a moment without words coming out and then shutting again. I waited patiently for him to gather his courage, until the man finally broke the suddenly awkward silence.

“So, we were making some plans with the team,” Minjoon opened hesitantly and immediately I felt a shot to my heart knowing I wasn’t a part of whatever discussion they were having as a team, but I kept my mouth shut. I only hummed in response, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, next Friday we’re going to speak to Ms. Kim,” he finally got out, and I froze a little, “I just felt that a heads up was needed for that particular encounter." And I wasn’t going to lie, there was a little bit of panic that seized me at the mention of her name.

Miss Kim, alias Kim Jiyu, alias the sister of the man currently in charge of Kim Enterprises and any other business the Kim family was running legal or not, was notoriously known in both the underworld and the law enforcement sphere as a very unpleasant and harsh woman that people only ever can have the displeasure of meeting. There was a lot of stories floating around about her, and most were extremely unflattering to her character. All kinds of adjectives were attached to her, from spoiled or mean all the way to downright cruel and heartless.

The meeting with her could mean only one thing – they were trying to get the meeting with the Mr. Kim himself, but as most people, couldn’t get through his sister first, as she acted as a wall between him and the rest of the world. Unless you came with a warrant, the chances of speaking to him alone or at all were very slim, most visitors got handled by Ms. Kim before they even made it through the receptionist.

I shuddered a little bit at the thought of meeting her and doing a questioning against her and the crimes her family was involved in. Allegedly. After this thing was over, I had to go to good old Jungkook and troll him a little over parking tickets to decompress from this whole ordeal.

I turned to Minjoon, taking in his worried face, and I put on my bravest expression, nodding with a gentle smile. We didn’t really speak after that again, both of us just processing the information that was traded throughout the whole evening.

When I got home, I was so exhausted I just wanted to crash into the bed and sleep for twelve hours but sleep just wouldn’t find me until the early hours of the morning, and I found myself lying there with closed eyes, brain overheating with everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours.

I nervously shimmied around, earning another judging stare from one of the maids and a warning shake of head from Minjoon, as we waited in the entrance hall to be accepted by the lady of the house.

When Minjoon mentioned going to interview Ms. Kim, I truly didn’t even begin to imagine we would go into her house. That morning pulling up in front of a huge modern mansion and getting greeted by a chauffeur and a gardener before I even made it halfway through the gate was truly a shock. I don’t know why I was expecting maybe an office or something, given the fact it was one of the richest residential parts of Seoul, but still.

As usual, my nervousness made it that I was there first, way before Sunmi or Minjoon got there, who were the two people assigned to this task, Hwang and Seungcheol trying their luck loitering around the office building where Mr. Kim must have been. It was a tactic that was already well known to me in our unit, fighting on two fronts and then exchanging found out info. In my mind I was transported months back, to the first time I was brought along, the “first time” I officially met Yoongi in the VIP lounge in Pied Piper and how I nervously sat in front of him while he laughed at me like my presence was the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him.

The feelings of unease and queasiness that thinking of Yoongi often brought along manifested themselves and I started sweating even harder, slowly gaining Minjoon’s worry as he looked me up and down. I shook my head to him very slightly, hoping it was seen as a comforting gesture and it wouldn’t make him hover over me in an attempt to shelter me or comfort me.

The silence in the hall stretched for several additional minutes and the three of us stood there awkwardly, scrutinised by every member of staff currently on standby. I felt the scolding gazes doubly, as I didn’t make much effort on the visual front, rocking up to one of the most expensive houses in the most expensive neighbourhood in my worn washed out jeans, a simple black tee and a breezy short-sleeved shirt with an aggressive flower print, hair styled in a way that was the most practical and needed the least amount of time to achieve and a face red and sweating both from the hot temperatures and the nerves, the look finished with a pair of old sneakers basically crying for help.

I couldn’t look more out of place in the pristine light green hall with sleek furniture and floors made from massive marble tiles and I felt properly as an outsider, both from the perspective of a kid growing up in an impoverished block and as a colleague that wasn’t properly informed about the details of the visit. Even Minjoon wore a nicer pair of jeans and a shirt, which he never did, and Sunmi looked as elegant as ever in her dress pants, light blouse and beautiful wavy hair let hanging loose around her shoulders. I swallowed my bitterness and regret at not checking up on the area first and not getting the chance to also dress accordingly. And avoiding looking like a beggar accidentally let in from the streets.

My train of thought was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, the distinctive clacking of high heel shoes on the marble floors carrying to us all the way from deep inside the house, and I found myself almost letting out a breath of relief, as I would finally be able to escape this oppressive atmosphere and disappear somewhere into a corner of a room and just quietly make notes.

With each clack getting closer to us the tension in the air grew lightly, the forms of my colleagues also straightening out, hands last minute fidgeting around their clothes to gather courage and look as composed as we could. From what I understood, from the people present here only Sunmi had the pleasure of meeting our host before, and it was only twice. Not nearly enough for the initial instinctual apprehension to wear off. Therefore we were all probably experiencing similar levels of unease. Most probably. Hard to say, I was pretty strung up.

Finally, the form of a woman rounded the corner and materialised at the other end of a very long corridor, slowly inching towards us with the elegance and prowess of a hungry lion, her form slightly shimmering. At first I thought my eyes were watering or I was straight up hallucinating, but as she came closer I realised it was because she wore a silvery dress that reflected every light and surface around her.

She was taller than me, quite a bit (not a big feat honestly, I barely grew out of looking like an 8th grader) with a small, graceful face, each inch perfect and carefully maintained. Both her make-up and dress looked very sophisticated, showing clearly that she was a member of the higher class, with her beautiful dark hair pulled into a tight intricate bun at the back of her head. She was absolutely stunning and, to be honest, for a moment I got a little starstruck. It felt like meeting a movie star or a celebrity, she had that aura around her, and for a few seconds I completely forgot why we were there and almost started asking for an autograph and a detailed explanation of her beauty routine.

That all shattered the moment she finally reached us though, as her impassive face suddenly broke into a cruel smirk, venom taking over her dark eyes and she scoffed, looking us over like we were pests about to be exterminated. Before even giving us a chance to introduce ourselves, or really say anything, her focus shifted to Sunmi, gaze burning her down intensely.

“I thought we were over this, detective,” she said in a strong voice, sounding just as annoyed as mean, “There’s no need for you to come over and ask your silly little questions. I told you everything you need to know.” I saw the moment Sunmi steeled herself, eyes hardening, readying to play her part of an unshakable detective. And damn, did she do a great job.

“Please Ms. Kim,” she retorted, her body relaxing a little as she adopted a posture to counter the other woman’s stiff elegant figure, “You know I’ll never have enough of asking you silly questions. Just let us bother you for fifteen minutes and then we don’t have to see each other again for a few months.” There was a little impish grin tugging on her lips and I could notice our hostess was starting to get a little bothered by that, her annoyance slowly running through the roof. I watched on with bated breath, both me and Minjoon just hanging back quietly, taken aback by the sudden change in the air.

Ms. Kim’s face turned into a bitter grimace, the disgust obvious in the downturn of her mouth as she stepped aside and gestured down the long hallway she herself came from.

“Fine, you got fifteen minutes, after that I’m not entertaining any other visits unless you have an arrest warrant,” she bit out almost in a bark, before she turned around without waiting and stomped her way back inside the house. We all scrambled to follow her, suddenly thrust into action after just weirdly hanging about for such a long time. Sunmi took the lead, confidently striding after her, but as she passed me I could hear her releasing a huge puff of air as she steadied herself to carry on.

I gazed after her, taking in her stoney face and confident posture, my respect towards the female detective immediately skyrocketing. If Minjoon told me I was looking at her with hearts in my eyes, I would totally believe him. I liked to pretend I looked similar while dealing with Yoongi, but Sunmi clearly perfected the pest bratty power play that just drove these types up the wall, and I hoped I would be able to learn from her before we all had to go our separate ways again. I’m sure the Min gang would infinitely appreciate it. Especially the maknae.

Miss Kim led us only halfway through the corridor before she disappeared into a room on the right, and like ducklings we all followed inside. Minjoon came through last, but immediately went for the chairs, so I took it upon myself to close the door. When I turned, I was the last one to take the room in. It was quite a standard home office space, with a dark desk dominating the space, some shelves with books and decorations, and of course, the two chairs waiting for visitors to be scrutinised from the high table.

Not wanting to pull much attention to myself, I quickly hurried into the left corner where a lone small armchair stood, sitting myself there. I was already pretty much invisible to them as they sized each other up.

Just as before, Miss Kim didn’t seem overly interested in getting our names, getting straight to business without any preamble.

“I cannot imagine what else you’d like to hear from me, Miss Lee,” her piercing voice sounded through the room, taking on a slight whining voice. I jerked slightly in my chair, head immediately flying up to look at the woman before I realised that me and Sunmi shared a surname and she was talking to her, not me. The relief that flooded me at not having to face her yet was quite mortifying, so I just focused on fiddling with my notepad and pen, waiting for something worthy of being written down.

“A multiple homicide took place on your front lawn, of course we’d be interested in getting your perspective as much as we can,” Sunmi replied to her matter-of-factly, holding her own in the intense power battle that was currently taking place between their gazes.

“On my front lawn? That’s news to me,” Miss Kim leaned back into her chair, throwing her arms into the air, “That’s not our warehouse. The Kim Enterprises don’t own it.”

“Cut the shit, that’s your turf. You want to tell me that someone was murdered on your turf, and you don’t have even the slightest idea? Not even if Mins were involved?” Sunmi snapped back immediately and even I was surprised for a split second before I schooled my expression and watched the two of them attentively.

Miss Kim seemed hardly surprised, she didn’t even blink at Sunmi’s approach, just sat there and stared at her blankly with not even a single hair out of place. Then she smirked lightly, fingers drumming a quick rhythm into the desk.

“I have no idea what Mr. Min is doing, but I can assure you he’s doing it far away from me,” she said diplomatically, “We’re not exactly the bestest of friends.” There was a tense venomous smile on her face and I fought back the scoff. That was some understatement. But she was really good at acting as if her whole clan didn’t almost lose their lives to Yoongi’s six after actively trying to sabotage him several times.

But guess they must have gotten a little mercy from him since most of the conflicts happened while the old Kim, her father, was still in power. Since he has died and his son took over, the relationship between the two powerhouses was still considerably strained, but also much calmer.

There was a moment of silence, Minjoon quietly looing to Sunmi whether she wanted to keep going and when she didn’t stop him, he cleared his throat and turned his full attention to the woman behind the desk.

“It might not be your warehouse, but we know the area is pretty much under your rule,” he said seemingly amicably, a stark difference to Sunmi’s irate approach, “We don’t care about any other stuff that’s happening there. We don’t care about drugs or smuggling right now, this is a murder case.”

To that the woman smirked and rolled her eyes. “So what? If I give you information, you’ll overlook anything else that might be going on? You want me to be a snitch?” she drawled out, clearly mocking us all, then threw her hands out into the air, “Not my warehouse, not my problem. Why would I know what’s going on in a house that doesn’t belong to me?” The answer was pretty clear, to be honest. Even as someone from a rival gang, if she knew something she wouldn’t cooperate with the police. The retaliation would be merciless if Yoongi found out. And he always did.

“Anything you say will be recorded as an anonymous tip, it will only push us in the right direction,” Minjoon told her, in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but his voice was too hard and matter-of-fact to be friendly. The elegantly dressed woman’s eyes jumped from the two with a slyness that left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. In that moment she looked more like a viper about to strike than an heiress to a huge successful family. An ugly smirk curled around her lips and her face took on a certain savageness, suddenly she looked nothing like the graceful lady that greeted us in the foyer.

“Well, detective,” she started in another drawl, now her voice pitching more towards an almost playful hostility, like she was trying to make herself seem less lethal than she truly was, “all I can say is that they were drug dealers. Which is something you already know. So you probably have to ask… why did they lose their lives because of it? Hmmmm, I wonder… wonder who and where does drug deals that has the reputation of killing anyone that just looks at him bad…” She ended that whole spiel with a sharp grin, and promptly stood up and in a grand gesture flicked her wrist towards the door.

“I didn’t really expect that I would have to do the police’s job for them, should have fucking gone to the academy,” she hissed out in a snarl, “Now get the fuck out of my house and don’t bother me again about bullshit that doesn’t concern me.”

The two detectives didn’t seem to be bothered by her words or sudden turn in mood at all, instead they both stood up almost coordinated and without a single word or a glance back turned to leave the room. I scrambled to follow them, the whole thing replaying in my mind as I absent mindedly smacked about the door to catch the handle. The split second I turned to see where it was, I caught Miss Kim’s eye for the first time that evening. Hers were sharp, face a hard grimace of uncaringness and cruelty. She smirked at me in a mocking way, like she would at an insect right before she crushed in under her heel, her pride and ego clearly displayed like trophies in her arrogant stance and upturned head. I shuddered lightly and decided to leave the door be, breaking into a light jog to catch up to my colleagues much to judging looks of the servants. I didn’t care much, I just wanted to be out of there.

Once back on the street, a weighted silence stretched between us as we marinated on what we were told. Really, these interviews always felt so short and so little information would come from them, and then you’d look at the clock and find out it’s been thirty or forty minutes spend just turning in circles. This was one of them.

“Of course we know the drug deal is an important aspect of the case,” Minjoon suddenly bit out, peeved as the last comment clearly got him, “A group of drug dealers doesn’t just get murdered by accident. But Yoongi is self-sufficient, he has ties across the sea to Japan, he doesn’t do deals with small in-Seoul gangs.” We both looked at him, trying to ignore his petulant outburst, trying to be empathising because all of our emotions ran a little wild at the moment. I looked to Sunmi, studying her calm face that was in contrast to her hand tapping her thigh in a quick rhythm, her mind working fast to slot everything together and re-evaluate what we found out till now.

“Well, then the reason must be there,” I voiced out unsurely, getting nervous when their gazes turned to me, “If what she’s insinuating is that they were doing a deal with Yoongi and got killed, then we gotta find out why. If he normally doesn’t do that, then why now?” Sunmi nodded at my words, eyes squinted both against the sun and in thought, mulling over it.

“Yeah, that’s really the only way I see here too,” she stated finally, voice carrying strong, “We were working with theories that they maybe provoked him or split from him and stole some of his cargo, maybe tried to push his turf somewhere, the usual reasons for this brutal of a punishment, but maybe we should explore the option that they were actually partners. Maybe they scammed him with goods, that could get you murdered in this business.”

I pursed my lips tightly, keeping a neutral face to reign in my surprise, as most of those things she said were total news to me. I had known they were looking into their past and that they were drug dealers, that they missed one guy and maybe he got away. Nothing of what she said actually made it to me, and I had to stand there and pretend like I knew what she was talking about. I mean, I wasn’t dumb, these were the usual reasons for murder between gangs, but it would have been nice if someone actually told me we were looking into these options.

I swallowed my bitterness down and kept my eyes trained on Sunmi, nodding along. I didn’t want my negative experience with my team and unit to tamper down the respect that was quickly growing in me towards her, the detective has in the short period of time I’ve known her become something of a model for me, and I knew that it wasn’t her responsibility to keep me updated since she was from a different unit. No, this transgression was on the side of my own colleagues, so I stubbornly kept my eyes from straying towards the officer in question, who was nervously shuffling next to her.

I let out a tired sigh, the disappointment was so constant with them that I barely even found it in me to be properly annoyed, just felt resignation bleed into me slowly. I knew that I would most likely just keep getting fucked over like this, but still, I stubbornly and selfishly wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, and it hurt. But really, what other option did I have.

“We should get back to the station,” I piped in, cutting short the conversation that started up between them while I was spacing out, and I felt Minjoon’s guilty gaze on me, “Get the info to the others and re-evaluate.” Sunmi once again nodded, patting my shoulder and giving me a friendly smile.

“You’re here by car, right? We could definitely squeeze you in if you need a ride,” she offered easily, and I found myself genuinely smiling back. I thanked her and pointed towards my own vehicle, and she patted my shoulder some more, a little more awkwardly, and made her way to her own. Minjoon lingered behind a little, but whatever he wanted to tell me, we didn’t have time for it anyway, so I shot him a polite smile and went my way too.

The day went by surprisingly fast, considering I didn’t speak much for the rest of it, the earlier realisation weighing heavy on me. The briefing was pretty short, with mostly Sunmi making sure the other two detectives were caught up. They split their duties quickly too. Minjoon and Seungcheol were supposed to keep looking into the mysterious third accomplice while Sunmi and Hwang would start looking more sharply into their mob ties, hoping to somehow trace them to Yoongi if they scrutinised them hard enough. I sat there and watched them awkwardly, until Minjoon turned to me and somewhat sheepishly asked whether I wanted to share my findings. So I did.

I recapped to them everything I said to Minjoon a few days earlier before he stepped in and informed the others I agreed to go through the older cases as well and would try to build a new bigger case. I gulped down my own simmering anger, that was admittedly dwindling down with every hit I took from them, and smiled, nodded, agreed. Minjoon kept glancing towards me as if he wanted to say something more, but I ignored it for the moment. Now was not the time. He asked the other team if they would volunteer to have someone tag along with me. Seungcheol agreed. I shook his hand and thanked him. In my head I clung to the promise Minjoon made me, that this would be my own big case, and kept myself in check.

By the evening, I was finally wrapping up with the original task, a huge boulder falling off of my shoulders and then promptly building back up when I curiously checked how many files I would have to pull up come Monday. It was a lot. I did catch myself just sitting at my tiny desk kneading my face in my hands, smushing my features all together and then pulling them again, as my eyes focused and unfocused on the computer screen.

And that’s how Minjoon found me too. He walked up to me quietly, and at first I didn’t even notice him through the existential crisis I was going through, but soon his hip moved into my field of vision and I jerked back, embarrassed at my antics. Minjoon still looked just as apologetic as that morning, and I couldn’t even be annoyed with him after the day I had.

“Dinner?” he asked quietly, unsure of whether I would want to go with him or not. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but instead I just nodded tiredly, pushing the files under the desk and turning off the computer. I was done, done for the day and done with working on this, so I just wordlessly stood up and glanced around. Just like last week we were the last ones around, even Park already long gone from his office where he basically camped out.

Minjoon waited for me patiently, as I gathered my belongings and then just walked out without looking back. We ended up at the same restaurant, ordering the same thing, the lady behind the counter giving us winks and mischievous smiles while I tried my hardest to push the flustered part of myself as deep as possible. That was the last thing I needed, really.

Minjoon launched into his apology as soon as we sat down, stating how tired and overworked he was and pleaded for me to forgive him just this once for forgetting to forward the information to me. How it just slipped his mind and how Hwang just plainly refused to have to keep running to me with every new little thing and always left it to him and he was just so busy. I sat there staring blankly, not even really in the mood to pretend it was fine like I usually would for the man, and he stewed under my intense gaze, stuttering to find a way to make it up to me.

I wanted to be spiteful, wanted to tell him just how tired I was as well, how if they even invited me to these meetings in the first place, we wouldn’t have this problem, but failed to find the reason why I should bother.

“Then how about this? I have an offer to make,” Minjoon said suddenly after a few minutes of awkward small talk, a mischievous smile slowly stretching on his face. I perked up at the sudden change in mood and curiously nodded at him to continue. “I always have the time to tell you everything when we eat here and I can relax at the same time, so it’s pretty obvious you should keep coming to these dinners with me. Just for the work’s sake of course,” the man suggested slyly, eyes colouring with mirth and something else, something a little darker and sweeter. That insufferable flirt.

That time I did blush full force as soon as the meaning of those words hit me, ducking my head shyly as the negative emotions dissolved confusedly into something a little more excited and jittery deep inside my chest, the anger forgotten under the sudden attention. I found myself nodding and Minjoon rewarded me with such a blinding smile it made everything worth it, all the work and the bitterness long pushed from my mind.

That evening, there was plenty more conversation, none of it about murders or crime which was a refreshing change for both of us, and we both seized the opportunity to actually mention anything that didn’t have any tie to Yoongi, who seemed to have become a constant in my life. For a first time in a really long time I laughed freely with another person, nothing holding me back from the amusement and nothing weighing heavy on my mind.

When I made my way home that evening, the hopeful joy making itself known in my heart seemingly erased all the negativity of the day, of the week, of the month. The only thought that fought its way through was the flash of Yoongi in my mind as I passed the street that would eventually lead me to Pied Piper.

I turned my head straight and drove on.

The days quickly bled into weeks, into a month, until I was sweating my ass off in the office towards the end of May, the sudden heatwave hitting right after a week of storms and rains. The heat always seemed to get even more exaggerated inside the building, something about it just had to be cursed. And with how old and rundown the station really was, hoping for a working AC soon turned into a fruitless endeavour.

I spent the month the same way I spent the month before that, buried neck deep in old cold cases that never saw enough evidence or attention, cross-referencing every little thing down to wearing the same-coloured socks. Similarities started quickly adding up, and by the time I opened the 20th case I could confidently say whether it was truly a Min murder or not. I even had bets going on which one were Jungkook’s and which ones were Hoseok’s. There were even few that I suspected belonged to the Kims, but it wasn’t a theory I felt was strong enough to actually present to others. I had become something of an expert on violence.

Truly, throughout the cases, there were few names that kept repeating – names of companies that could be traced back to Yoongi’s umbrella corporation, names of middlemen that were known to hang about him, names from other cases. They all tied together a nice picture of shady business and in the middle of it all sat Yoongi, like the devil himself.

I was able to painstakingly trace some of the new cases to the older ones, fully incorporating them into the agenda after confirming truly that they were most likely victims of bad deals and finicky power dynamics. Then came the gut punch – the man that was linked to most of those cases, Moon Jiwoo, the middleman whose sole occupation seemed to be to link up wealthy influential men with Yoongi, has gone and turned into a cold case himself. This time a missing person.

Damn you, Jung Hoseok, ruining all my fun.

But obviously this was something worth looking into, given the fact that he was “taken care of” as well. So I started rearranging the files into different groups and sub-groups once again, making a pile that was directly connected to Moon Jiwoo, then a pile of cases that was linked to the victims in the first pile and then seemingly unconnected cases that were still most probably carried out by the Min gang. Thus I ended up with thirteen cases – seven that were connected to the middleman, the middleman case itself and five that had a link to the main seven. Ten more cases sat on the side, for now looking rather random, but maybe I would come to find out that they fell into the intricate web of murders I was currently looking at.

These lucky thirteen mostly had quite peculiar history of travelling between units until they ended up here. Some started off as missing persons cases until a body was found, death undetermined or suspicious enough to have the violent crimes look it over, some were first classified as an accident until someone from ours found it and pulled it over to organised crime. There were two cases that made it straight to us as soon as they were reported – the missing Moon Jiwoo, a known associate, and a dock worker that was employed by an affiliated company. Unfortunately, it was much easier to make a poor man working in the docks disappear than a filthy rich magnate, so those few cases that made it to us were mostly thin and under-investigated.

Stepping into this task, I have to admit that at first I was quite surprised that someone as infamously known for being a dangerous silent killer that almost never leaves any evidence as Hoseok had left this many cases for us to look into, but once I started properly going through them I realised that there was a stone wall at every turn and most of these cases went completely cold only a few weeks after happening. And considering it was a pure stroke of luck that even brought them to us, the chance that they would have been eventually completely forgotten was extremely high. I had to give it to him, he was extremely efficient, enough to make me progressively more annoyed every time I hit a dead end, cursing him in my mind four times a day. And I shuddered to think about the number of cases that never made it to us or that didn’t even get reported.

But now at least I had a firm idea of what would have to be investigated more thoroughly and which avenues I would look into. You bet that I was gathering those thirteen files to bring them home and put them on the map wall, silently sighing at the image of the macabre décor in my own bedroom. It was truly unfortunate it was the best room for it in my tiny tiny apartment, but sadly I was getting used to it by now. So much for calming relaxing mornings.

A cup of coffee landed on my desk and I jumped in fright, realising I had been just emptily staring at my computer screen as I went over everything I would have to do at home during the weekend and my plan starting Monday. I looked up with cheeks coloured by embarrassment, catching Cheol’s amused expression before he tipped an imaginary hat in my direction.

“Howdy, partner,” he drawled out and took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back onto a neighbouring desk and making himself as comfortable as he possibly could with the sharp edge digging into him. I chuckled at him and tipped my head in return.

“Howdy,” slipped out of my mouth easily, “thanks for the coffee.” He only smiled as a response and then nodded towards the computer and the mess of files everywhere.

“How’s it looking?” the detective asked. I sent him a faux annoyed looked, but there was a smile tugging on my lips. In the past few weeks Cheol made it his mission to check up on me regularly. He’d usually come with a cup of either coffee or tea and start asking about my progress. Since he had volunteered to be my partner in this, I understood his reasoning, but the first few times I found myself quite annoyed by his incessant questioning. Until I realised he was doing it on purpose and was just pulling my leg. After that I was able to relax and see the interaction for what it really was – an attempt to build some comradery, not an effort to press and humiliate me.

I found out he was actually pretty easy-going, he had a sense of stability and strength around him and yet still managed to be an absolute goofball, which helped me feel less nervous and I even started catching onto some of his jokes. I liked hanging out with him and I already trusted him as a teammate despite the fact that we hadn’t even gone out to the field together.

“Same as yesterday,” I told him finally, pretending to be annoyed with him, “Monday big briefing, then we can kick off.” My voice turned serious in the second half, conveying that it truly was an information he needed to keep in mind.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” he responded to just as seriously, only a small smile on his face as I nodded at him and then gestured to the mountains of files. “In the meantime I’ll have fun organising this for you, so you better not be ungrateful,” I joked right back at him, “I am not above abusing my power.” That got an amused chuckle out of him.

“Sure thing, rookie,” his voice turned slightly jokingly exaggerated, but I heard the genuineness in it, which pulled an honest grin out of me, “we’ll see about that on Monday.” With that he pushed himself off the table and started walking off somewhere, only waving around the cup in lieu of a goodbye.

On his way out, presumably back to his own unit, he passed Minjoon’s table, and I caught the man’s eye as I watched Cheol dramatically take his leave. Immediately I felt a blush spreading and I ducked my head back between the files quickly. There was a slight grin on his face witnessing my reaction, and I chastised myself to behave while at work. We weren’t highschoolers anymore and I could get in serious trouble sending puppy eyes to my colleague. If somebody caught wind of that, they’d disrespect me even more, it would become absolute hell here and I couldn’t afford to make the atmosphere even more hostile when I was barely making it now.

True to his word, Minjoon took me to the little restaurant by the office once or twice a week to eat and gave me the whole rundown of the other team’s plans and findings to keep me updated on everything going on. He would relay everything to me with care, making sure I wasn’t left out and that he wouldn’t have to awkwardly fill me in under Hwang’s hateful eyes. But we would always end up talking about everything and anything, and soon I started anticipating our dinners not because of the information, but because as soon as that was told, we would start chatting and laughing.

One moment I’d be asking about the next step against Yoongi and the next we were trading stories about the most embarrassing things we’ve done in high school or our favourite childhood spots to play in. Minjoon talked a lot about his family, about his older brothers and parents, and while I tried to avoid that topic as much as possible, I ended up also sharing some childhood stories without many details.

Honestly, those evenings became my favourite moments. The weeks and the work were both so hectic lately and I found myself swamped with cases, searching for the tiniest details, and more often than not I was going home totally exhausted with red raw eyes and a migraine that just wouldn’t leave no matter what I did. I almost perfected sleeping in a way that didn’t aggravate my headache to a point I almost threw up (I did throw up once, after I came home and almost passed out not realising I didn’t really eat anything the whole day).

The moments I spent with Minjoon were a beautiful escape, a few hours a week I forgot completely about my responsibilities and didn’t care about murders and gang activity, and only sat back and traded jokes and bashful flirts. We both have long since stopped pretending we weren’t interested in each other, and it made those encounters even more exhilarating as we danced around the attraction with careful teasing smiles and soft flirting. I was still very much nervous about the unit catching on and realising what’s going on, but Minjoon’s warm presence in my life slowly erased those fears and made me more open to the possibility. The last few meetings toed the line of propriety with more ways than one, flirtation straying further than before and Minjoon’s insistence he drives me home leaving us in a few tense charged moments by my door.

It was exciting and terrifying, but I liked the officer. He’d been the only one that went out of his way to actually accept me and treat me as a human, he helped me and pushed me through to give me opportunities to prove myself to others and he continuously cared about my well-being. I liked spending my evenings with him, he was charming and kind and we both seemed very compatible.

The only problem that stood between us and made us both hesitant to cross a line further than friendly dinners was the fact that we were not only coworkers, but team members. That left us awkwardly trying to navigate the sudden tension that arose between us without giving away how close we were getting. Honestly, every day I was nervous that Sunmi or Seungcheol would look at us and see, like it was written all over my face that I was starting to like Minjoon from a wholly unprofessional standpoint.

It was like there was a huge ticking clock hanging over my head just waiting for a disaster to happen, but it didn’t stop me from looking forward to the Friday evening every week. And Minjoon seemed to be in the same boat. But as long as we didn’t cross over to uncharted territory, we were fine.

Thus, we both just sat there in the office and exchanged timid grins, making sure no one saw us making eye contact, like we were two criminals fleeing from the law.

I tried to focus back onto my monitor, but I was absolutely fried. It was still noon, but the whole weight of the last two months just hit me and I was fighting to stay awake, knowing I was done with one of the most annoying boring tasks I’ve ever had to deal with and that from Monday I’ll be even more busy.

There was both panic and excitement coursing through me at what was waiting for me, all the possibilities from actually doing some real investigating and solving cold cases to finally having the chance to put my energy into something productive and not only sneak around Seoul at the ass crack of dawn hoping to catch a sight of a serial killer working for the most annoying man in the existence.

Finally I’d have a chance. And that was just as scary. It felt like I had twice as much to lose, given the fact I was barely tolerated now. I had everything to gain, but everything to lose. If I failed this, if I messed up or got us into trouble, it’d be the end of me on this precinct. Not successfully closing at least one of these cases wasn’t an option, I had to yield results.

For the nth time that day I tried blinking away the tiredness from my eyes and the early onset of another migraine, but as soon as it started being hard to focus through the pain, I decided it was time to give up on trying to achieve anything today.

Already having great experience with gathering my things to leave as fast as possible, I was ready to leave within five minutes of deciding to go home, the relief coursing through my veins like ice cream on a hot day. And it was a very hot today.

Still, I stopped by Minjoon’s desk, surprising him for a moment before he gave a confused smile, the question marks reflected in his eyes without him even having to ask anything. I grinned at him wildly, no doubt looking slightly insane from this angle of him looking up at me.

“You said that you haven’t questioned Yoongi yet, right?” I enquired out of nowhere, confusing him even more as he fully turned to me, and I could see him trying to figure me out. Then he slowly nodded.

“Yeah,” he drawled out, “we decided to go into offensive and start pushing him, so we’ll start questionings in the following weeks.” I nodded quickly, shooting him a rushed smile before I made my way out into the hot noon air and blasting sun, leaving supremely more confused Minjoon behind, not even giving him a chance to really say goodbye.

There’s been a thought playing around in my mind for a few days now. Was it finally time to go see Yoongi again? Now seemed to be the best time to make my grand return, remind them of my existence and cut the suspense. The team was already planning to go talk to him anyway, come June they’ll be hot on his tail, back to their strategy of annoying him. It would be kind of a sweet little treat to find out how much he knows, whether it already made it back to him and he was onto us or whether he was still blissfully unaware of what we were investigating. I was slightly embarrassed by the amount of excitement that flowed through me at the prospect of teasing the man again, of hearing his remarks, now that I fully had a leg up (though the last time I thought that it went spectacularly wrong).

I wanted to try to throw him off his high horse. To unnerve him, in the same way he always did to me. To return the favour of always finding a way to get under my skin and make me mad. I wanted that. I wanted him to know that I would be getting him behind those bars, just as I promised two months ago in The Rose.

Waiting until the evening seemed almost impossible, not even my own exhaustion that tried to lure me into hours long nap could distract me from the slowly ticking clock, and I was restless the whole day. Sitting around, staring off into space, always wanting to pick something up, some chore or an easy task, but unable to focus on anything except for whether it would be better to catch him still in the office or make a grand entrance to the Pied Piper, where he should be today.

And pulling up to said club twenty minutes after 7pm, I did pray that he was there, as I immediately recognised those same bouncers and desperately wished there wouldn’t be a repeat of that whole situation. Though, if I did manage to cockblock Yoongi twice, that would definitely put a smile on my face, that’s how petty we were getting here.

But that hardly mattered, not when I walked up to them and before I could even get a single word out of me, a mean glint present in my eyes to let them know I remembered them and I wasn’t amused by whatever bullshit they would try to pull, they were already opening the doors to me and gesturing for me to enter with smug smirks. My whole actor bit got thrown off and I stared at them shocked for a moment, before I hurried to scramble inside much to the distaste and grumbling of people waiting in the line right behind me. There was some disgruntled shouting, a warning growl and then the door fell shut and I was left in the dark hallway leading deeper into the heart of the club. That was entirely too easy.

From here, I could only sense the loud drums pulsing through the walls, their faint echo thrumming through my very bones, as I mechanically forced a foot in front of the other, pushing myself back into my carefree smug attitude. Stop being stupid, I thought to myself, something like this can’t throw you off. But it did mean that Yoongi was already no doubt alerted to my presence, sitting like a king in that red balcony waiting for me to get there.

Well, I couldn’t let him wait for long, could I? We had a game to play.

Somewhat nervously I shuffled with my clothes, choosing to show up in a little bit more club appropriate attire so I could sell my arrogance and triumph, and flaunt it properly in their face. I had to appear strong, this was a crucial moment between us and I couldn’t fumble here. Though, deep down I felt like this evening, just like all of my other encounters with the man, would inevitably end in disaster. Still, I made sure my skirt and crop top were in place, short heels properly strapped and hair and earrings where I wanted them to be, hoping my makeup still looked as okay as it did when I left my apartment.

This afternoon, as I desperately tried to come up with some sort of a plan, I had realised everyone around Yoongi always walked around in pristine high-end clothes, while I ended up running after them dressed in rags, basically. The encounter with Miss Kim only strengthened this idea within me. I had to step up my game. I had to learn how to play by their rules just enough to get away with it. So, I made sure to dress up a little. Only a tiny bit.

With a deep stabilising inhale and exhale, I set out down the hallway and down the stairs into the main room. I ignored the bar that opened up to my right and went straight for the VIP section entrance. I was anticipating to run into a little more trouble here, as I made my way towards the two unsmiling bouncers all jittery and trying to look more confident than I’ve ever been in my entire life; but upon seeing me, they just stepped to the side, unhooked the red rope and waited for me to walk through.

I did, though my nerves grew with every step I took up those stairs, knees and hands slightly shaking, and I clutched my little handbag until I risked damaging it. The upper floor, the VIP section, was just as intimate and infinitely more pleasant than the downstairs as the last time I was here, and my eyes quickly scanned through the seated guests, trying to make out whether there was someone I recognised, but it was too dark. I caught the barman’s eye and he winked at me cheekily, gesturing at an alcohol bottle he was just fiddling with, attempting to lure me in to buy a drink. My returning smile was apologetic, but it did stop me, and I found myself just awkwardly standing there looking towards the wall where I knew the balcony entrance was.

Trying out the same strategy as before, I loudly inhaled and exhaled, forced my body back into working order, and started moving slowly towards them. With every step I shoved a little more false confidence and condescending attitude to prepare myself, steadily growing surer in those heels and schooling my expression.

Just like downstairs, the bouncer moved out of my way and allowed me to enter the private zone, but as I caught a glimpse of his face, I did a hasty double take. A wry grin made it onto my face, watching the man up and down.

“Good evening, Mr. Choi,” I greeted the bodyguard with a sense of mocking in my tone, a sentiment he gladly returned in his patronising little bow he did towards me, eyes fighting to not roll to the back of his head. I chuckled and moved on, finally climbing those last few stairs.

Coming face to face with the men after such a long time was truly terrifying, especially as I stood there in my ditzy little outfit in front of several of the most dangerous criminals in the city and noted the shock and interest in their eyes as they fully took me in. Several different instincts warred through me – to hide away, to run, to flounder under their attention, to throw my attitude into their face, but all I could really manage was stand there in a manner I hoped that screamed carefully constructed indifference.

Yoongi was spread out on the central sofa, just like last time, comfortably seated in a way that almost made him seem half melted into the soft furnishing, but his eyes were sharp just like his smirk, thoroughly studying me. I could already see the cogs in his head turning, realising this was a beginning of a new game, even more exciting than the last one. I fought the shudder that tried to overtake me under his heavy gaze and instead turned my attention to the sofa next to him.

There was no Jungkook today, his dark sulking mass would be hard to miss, but Taehyung was here, elegantly sitting near the corner of his settee with one arm curling around the top of it and the other gently laid on his crossed legs. Everything about him screamed how comfortable and confident he felt, all the way to the playful smirk and studious eyes. I would have to be more careful around him, he was kind of a whole lot to deal with and I had no idea whether I could take that tonight.

But I couldn’t stop the surprise from displaying clearly on my face as I clocked in the last figure in the room, sitting close next to Taehyung, full body turned to me with a wide smile that had a dangerous edge to it and strangely deep dark eyes that had my fingers trembling in a tinge of fear. It was Hoseok, dressed in a nice suit and comfortably sitting there with a glass of alcohol loosely held in his hand, swirling over his expensive shoes. He was grinning at me like we were old friends, but somehow that made me even more wary of him, an unease setting into my insides that had me reconsidering whether tonight was a good idea.

But I was already here, so. No way but forward.

Gathering my wits back I plastered a smile on my face and regarded the three men with a cheery “Gentlemen” while I made my way towards the little chair sitting straight across from Yoongi. It was my place anyway, we all knew it, he clearly had all the unwelcome guests sitting on it to make them uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, so I had to own it as effortlessly as possible.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise, officer,” Yoongi started with his smooth voice that he only used when he was being intentionally an ass, “Come here to club and destress on a tough Friday night?” His eyes flicked down to my attire and then back to me, the amusement shining through alongside another strange glint to his eyes. He was interested in what my strategy was here, inviting me to set my starting pieces.

I ignored him and turned straight to Hoseok, finding his dark unsettling eyes already on me, but I forced myself to smirk lightly. “Shocked to see you here,” I said with my full voice, a cheeky undertone to my words, “Aren’t there enemies to be murdered? Bones to be buried?” His eyes narrowed slightly, smile turning a bit sharper. I’d never really spoken to him before, and our first exchanged words were a taunt from me? It was as brilliant as it was stupid, but it did throw the man off for a few seconds, his face immediately becoming a little more closed off, the happy smile still dutifully in place.

“Everybody deserves a day off here or there,” he retorted back, drawing an amused smirk to Taehyung’s face. Yoongi was watching us closely, studying the interaction before taking the control back.

“Could I interest you in a drink?” he asked, testing the waters, sharp eyes observing me. I nodded. He smirked. “Perfect,” he hummed, “Finally truly came here on a day off?” I only chuckled in response, watching him wave to someone behind me, presumably to Soobin. I squirmed a little on the tiny seat that simply must have been designed to torture the people sitting on it, always playing a balancing game on the little square with nothing to really lean on. The dark-haired man’s eyes still followed my every movement and he suddenly gestured to the space next to him.

“Of course, if it would be more comfortable for you, you’re welcome to join us on the settee,” Yoongi drawled out with a smirk, Taehyung hungrily watching our interaction with some sort of dark amusement glinting in his eyes. It made me shudder, nerves threatening to swallow me whole under their intense scrutiny, especially since Hoseok was also present. I would have never guessed I’d meet him here, casually drinking with Yoongi. Somehow I gained the idea that he just always crawled around in the dark like some kind of a mythical creature.

I pushed all of the uncomfortableness to the edges of my consciousness and quickly straightened, moving to the sofa in a few confident strides. This suddenly put me much closer to the man than I’ve ever been before, my stomach revolting and filling with lead. I quickly clasped my hands together nonchalantly to hide the slight tremor that started up again in them.

If Yoongi was surprised by my decision, he didn’t let it show and only continued to regard me with rampant curiousness and interest. I felt like a puzzle game that he desperately tried to solve just for fun, and it was increasingly more difficult to not start tensely shifting around; my eyes flitting around the room and lungs seizing until it was hard to consistently breathe.

I figured since I sat like this with Jimin in The Rose when I went there I’d be fine now, but I should have known that Yoongi himself was a completely different ballpark. He shifted around in his seated until he was half turned to me, leisurely lounging on the red velvet with one arm rested on the top and the other playing with a glass of what I assumed was whiskey. He was a picture of aloofness and power, all painted in black and red, and his aura was slowly crushing me like I had found myself at the bottom of the ocean. All I could do was try not to flounder too much and stand firmly.

I had come here to play their little game, to shock them and throw them off, to show them that I can keep up, that I’m not just a stupid little girl that’s in over her head. I needed to be bold, to play with them the same way they play with me. So, I took a few steadying breaths and ignored the way my whole body was screaming at me to leave, instead grinning self-assuredly at the man.

The silence stretched on, the other two men present sat back and watched Yoongi with amusement and something akin to respect in their eyes as he stared me down. For few long moments no one said anything, and Yoongi’s eyes just bored straight deep into my soul, picking me apart and making me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. Unlike the first time he did this to me, I fought to keep myself defiantly staring back but I couldn’t hold the eye contact, every few seconds flitting to something else before I looked at him again, shame creeping into my features. His smile grew larger and more entertained until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Just as I started considering just turning away from him in humiliation the moment was broken by a waiter coming in to serve me a cocktail and I exhaled deeply in relief just as Yoongi chuckled and nodded at the boy. I took the drink eagerly, absolutely ecstatic that I had something to put my attention to instead of those fuckers smiling smugly right next to me. The drink was something very fruity and it tasted sweet, my features immediately perking up in delight as the taste hit my tongue.

Next to me Yoongi chuckled again, and I pointedly ignored him until he spoke. “Your eyes are so genuine,” he muttered, something warmer than just plain amusement creeping into his voice, “Everything’s so clearly written all over your face.” I froze at the tone, my mind transported back into The Rose to the respect he so clearly showed towards me, and I almost fled the club in absolute panic at the reminder of why I distanced myself in the first place.

I wasn’t the only one thrown off though, Hoseok sitting right at the corner of my vision visibly tensed at Yoongi’s words and looked at him in a way that could only be described as a warning glare. Not that the man himself paid him any mind, though I was sure he certainly knew of what Hoseok was doing right to his side.

But even when all of my alarms were going off in my mind and I was so undeniably shown just how much I was losing control of the whole situation (if I even had any from the beginning) and how I got myself into real trouble fraternising with Yoongi and going along with his stupid little whims, trying to outwit him and always managing to play right into his hands, I still stubbornly refused to stop. I still stubbornly refused to back down and admit to myself this was slowly crossing lines I couldn’t afford to cross, I still tried to force myself to believe that it would mean my defeat, my surrender. And I couldn’t surrender, that’s what he wanted. It was pedal to the metal all the way, baby.

I pulled myself back together and shot him a carefully crafted smirk in return. “Don’t try to butter me up with your words, you’re not taking me home tonight,” it took everything in me not to flush at the insinuation, and I cocked my head to the side with a cheekiness I’ve seen from him many times before to sell it properly, giving him back what he always gave me (especially in The Rose with Jimin, those bastards). But the answering grin that immediately spread over Yoongi’s face had me nervous again. He looked like he won the lottery, like I just perfectly played into his cards. The man just leisurely brought his drink to his lips, before a look crossed his eyes.

“Of course I’m not, that police officer is,” he retorted nonchalantly, one eye cheekily looking to me to gauge my reaction over the rim of his whiskey glass. I froze, some spectacular mix of emotions passing through my face, and I had no idea what kind of expression was set there, but it greatly entertained my whole audience, all three of them grinning like wolfs that just stumbled upon a little girl in the middle of the woods. My heart gave a few painful jerks, and I buried my face in the glass again, hoping to regain some composure.

“Been following me too, huh?” I shot back weakly, head still spinning from this particular information coming out his lips. God damn him, god damn them all. The man laughed at that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course, my favourite police officer just suddenly disappeared,” he said in a mock worried voice, “I had to make sure that you were alright. What if you needed help, officer?” Now my whole body trembled as I went over my whereabouts in the past two months. How much did he know? What did he see me do? Does he know what we’re investigating? Is he aware of what we’re trying to spin him into? Did I doom this operation right from the start without even realising it?

Yoongi was blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil and happily continued yapping. “Though I must say you have a rather boring life, somehow I expected a detective’s life to be more interesting,” he mocked some more, but really I didn’t care about what he thought about my life. I needed to know how much he knew about my work.

“Must have been at least a little interesting,” I tried to spin him to talk more, forcing my hands to calmly pick at my skirt to play up my aloofness, “had you interested in why the sudden absence, did I not?” He chuckled lightly, eyes dissecting me carefully with a cheeky look.

“I’m always up to indulging you and your little games, officer,” Yoongi half whispered back to me, leaning lightly forward, “Keeps my life more interesting. At least I have something to do over my lunch break.” I regarded him, spread there on the sofa leisurely like he owned the whole city, smirking himself half to death, and I decided to take a gamble.

“Oh, I have the most interesting game prepared for you,” I whispered too, subconsciously leaning in as well to make sure he heard me, “Trust me, you’re going to love it.” From this distance and under this lighting his eyes looked absolutely consumed in darkness and even as they crinkled in amusement, there was something predatory in them, especially as his lips curled up delightedly. I couldn’t help myself but think he looked almost like a tiger spirit that just managed to catch another poor soul unawares.

But when I searched the black irises for any signs of mockery or knowing, I only found pure interest and eagerness to see how this unfolds. With careful hope I allowed myself to believe that he somehow managed to miss me going to the crime scene or to Miss Kim’s house, for a short moment thanking the unit for not taking me with them as often as it clearly prevented from spoiling Yoongi his surprise.

He probably wasn’t expecting me to push an actual investigation against him at all, and probably also wasn’t warned by the Kims that we were asking around about those warehouse murders. That’s when a true smirk unfurled on my face, all the despicable joy I felt about paying him back surfacing freely onto my face.

There was a new kind of calculation reflected in his gaze, eyes never suspicious but always storing away every little detail about our interaction.

The atmosphere between us grew tense, I almost felt the air crackling, almost tasted the electricity on my tongue. I finally leaned back away from him, mirroring his relaxed posture and took a long sip of my drink.

My eyes flitted to the two other men that have just been silently sitting to the side watching the whole interaction, and suddenly I flushed realising they witnessed my shameless taunting of their boss. Hoping the light would hide any unusual colour on my face, I rather focused on deciphering their expressions.

Taehyung was watching me like a new toy that he couldn’t wait to figure out, like a game that he’s been dying to play and find out how the story ends. It made me shift uncomfortably under such raw curiosity, though I’ve been slowly getting used to the fact that he was just someone that would inevitably always throw me off. The man was basically 85 % deception and 15 % flirting, I’d rather keep myself amused by other means than striking up any kind of conversation with him.

Hoseok on the other hand had during our discussion leaned back into the sofa and he watched me with his face closed off and clean off any smile, only apprehension shining through in his gaze. He watched me with distrust and like I was a problem he wouldn’t hesitate to solve. That sent a wave of shivers and goosebumps down my back, finally giving me the opportunity to see the man behind the mask. This was the man people feared, this was the man the petty criminals respected, or they’d find themselves solved. This was the man that walked amongst the docks, and everybody listened. I fully believed that had Yoongi given the order, he’d be happy to get rid of me right here in the club.

Sitting here, drinking leisurely while these three men grinned at me like hungry wolves, I fully realised just how far deep into shit I shovelled myself with this personal justice route I had taken. Yoongi kept me around only because it amused him to watch me struggle and both Jungkook and Hoseok were firmly against indulging me.

As much as I enjoyed annoying Jungkook cause he was one of the members that always let his anger show, and that was very therapeutic for me, I was aware the reason why I was such a sore in his existence was because he hated how close Yoongi let me. Given the chance he’d prolly kill me even without Yoongi’s orders.

Other than that, Jimin and Namjoon were dangerous to be around and speak with, and Seokjin I haven’t even met, but Jimin insinuated he was also getting a little trigger happy when it came to my meddling. Now gloves were off and I was truly treading thin ice. One misstep and I would turn into a warning, just like any cop that got too close. Up until now it was all fun and games, what’s a little tailing and tracking between friends, but once I put this investigation to life, I’d truly be in danger of retribution.

I once again glanced at the satisfied grin on Yoongi’s face, at his hands gently clasped around a whiskey glass, at his relaxed shoulders and designer suit and shoes, pretty hair curling around a pretty face, and I saw the violence hiding underneath. He was good at masking his, and that made him so dangerous. It was so easy to forget what kind of man you were talking to. And from now on I would risk standing in the direct line of Hoseok’s ire as well.

I threw back the rest of the cocktail I had in my glass, my stomach protesting as I hadn’t eaten much the whole day, and I stood up to leave. I felt their stares on me, all three of them burning through me with those fiery eyes, each of them showing a different kind of craze. The gaze of a puppeteer, the gaze of a honeytrap and the gaze of a killer.

I shuddered and moved away from them, closer to the edge overlooking the rest of the club. Everyone was enjoying just a normal Friday night, having absolutely no idea what was going on just a few metres above them. I envied them a little bit, I envied how carefree they seemed.

“Feel free to enjoy yourself tonight,” Yoongi spoke suddenly into the silent tension, “The drinks are on me.” With his arm he gestured over the railing of the balcony, down to the pit of bodies moving together to the rhythm as one. Suddenly the spell was broken and I once again started to percieve the loud club music blaring throughout the whole space as it reverberated through my bones.

Without me noticing, Yoongi had stood up as well and moved to me, his presence and the warmth radiating off of his body abruptly crowding me in against the railing. I froze in a moment, just sensing him right behind, close enough to make me feel he was there but not enough to touch, as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“You do deserve to let loose and relax once in a while,” he spoke to me in a hypnotising drawl, his voice turning into almost a purr, “So don’t be shy… indulge.” A full body shiver wracked through me, making me jerk in place with the force of it, and for a brief moment I wondered whether this is what it felt like to be sung by sirens into a sure death. Yoongi chuckled again, a low rumbly sound that made me twitch, and then he stepped away from me.

The cool air rushing in broke the spell and I collected my bearings again, throwing a disgruntled stare at him over my shoulder while my knees fought to work again, hands clenching the railing like it was the only thing currently keeping me alive. I just managed to catch a glimpse of the man’s sardonic grin before he turned completely and left.

The two other men stood up as well, both of their faces once again amused by my plight as I was very obviously flustered by Yoongi’s behaviour, before they stepped out right after their boss, leaving me completely alone in the luxurious balcony bathed in red velvet and sin.

Defeatedly I sat down onto the nearest sofa with an ‘oompf’, all bones turned into soup as I decompressed now that the oppressive atmosphere left with them, and blankly stared at a wall for a moment before I was able to process things normally again. My phone started wildly buzzing in my little handbag and I decided that ignoring whatever just happened and taking the distraction it offered me was a better choice than to dwell on it.

Fishing the phone out, I checked the neglected notifications, not much really coming in except for a text from Cheol confirming he read my email about the files and that he’d be ready Monday to go over it once more and some social media pings. And then, a very noticeable slew of messages from Minjoon. The first one was from 19:22, which was around the time I arrived here, asking whether I’d still be up for a dinner. It was currently over 8pm, but there was a few more asking minor questions with the newest one only from a few minutes ago.

I quickly opened the chat and answered an affirmative, my brain just begging for me to distract myself from tonight’s happenings. Minjoon was happy to hear from me and I finally took him up on the offer to drive me, as I couldn’t exactly sit behind a wheel right now.

On my way out I pointedly ignored the bartender’s small smirk, or the bouncer’s curiously raised eyebrows, I ignored Yoongi sitting at the downstairs bar chatting amicably with the guy manning it and sending me very unsubtle mirthful glances, I ignored Taehyung’s flirty wave as I passed him in the hall and most of all I ignored Hoseok leaning against a sleek black car outside of the club with a cigarette between his fingers, icy eyes following my figure for as long as he could.

The second I disappeared behind a corner I half expected him to run after me and grab me, the feeling of being watched slithering along my back in a way that made me shudder in disgust and fear. I hurried towards a bigger road, the Friday evening rush swallowing me and hiding me amidst drunken college kids, foreigners and working folk trying to forget their responsibilities for at least one night. I could relate to that, but no matter how much these meetings took away from me, they always gave me some sick satisfaction in return. And I couldn’t wait for the day I truly bested him.

I waited around for a few minutes, just enough to have the evening chill start setting into me, before a familiar car came into view, slowing down until I could hop in quickly. Minjoon smiled at me warmly, his eyes getting caught on my outfit and he fought for a few moments to keep his eyes on the road. I blushed deeply under his gaze and felt the relief of not having to police my reactions like I did with Yoongi, finally getting the chance to freely feel without fearing his mocking eyes.

“Where were you?” he asked incredulously, voice a little shaky as his glances kept getting caught on my short skirt and exposed legs. There was an electric current going through me at his obvious interest, a fire slowly waking to life right under my skin, and I found myself subconsciously trying to fold my legs in a way that make them look even prettier.

“Just out with some friends,” the lie slipped out of my lips so easily I didn’t even stop to think about feeling guilty about it, too preoccupied with feeling the tension between us slowly cracking, clutching the handbag like a lifeline and revelling in my rising heartbeat. I felt so free, so opposite of how nervous and jittery Yoongi made me. And I wanted.

“I see, I thought you were going home to rest, so I didn’t want to bother you at first,” Minjoon said, lips turning into another warm smile, which I returned tenfold, my whole face lighting up.

“I’m glad you did, I was getting hungry,” I told him teasingly, “It’s always nice with a personal chauffeur, you know?” He went along with my teasing happily, hands attractively flexing on the steering wheel as he shot me a look with one eyebrow raised, lips playing with as subtle smirk. The whole atmosphere shifted; the tension close to overflowing. Suddenly it became very clear to us that we’ve been dancing around the line for too long.

“So where to, your highness?” Minjoon asked, even though he was obviously already driving with some goal in his mind. I only grinned at him and responded: “Wherever you want, sir.”

The place turned out to be a cute little restaurant, the kind that is open at all times of the day and a girl in full club attire in the evening wasn’t a strange sight there. I had to laugh at Minjoon’s choice, as he clearly improvised upon seeing how I was dressed. But the man was watching me with something I could call fondness in eyes and that was all that mattered to me as he placed his hand on the small of my back and led me inside.

Once seated, I found that there wasn’t really even a need for talking about the team, and frankly I wasn’t even in the mood to be discussing Yoongi when I had just met with him and was doing my best to distract myself from that. Minjoon was still watching me with some sort of fascination, his gaze flickering between intrigued and sensual, and I was sure he also wasn’t particularly interested in work related topics.

We exchanged some more flirty grins while we ordered, but politely waited to be alone before starting up any kind of conversation.

“So… outing with friends?” Minjoon started, gaze once again slipping to my attire before jumping back to my face slightly flushed. I only nodded, too spent to come up with something and spend my evening lying. “I wasn’t really feeling it,” I added after slight deliberation. Minjoon grinned.

“Was feeling up to meeting me though,” the man retorted, flirty expression taking over his face, “Gonna make me feel special. Be careful or it might go to my head.” I chuckled at him, leaning over the table to graze our fingers lightly together. Minjoon’s eyes immediately jumped down and zeroed in on the place of contact before he looked back to me, eyes hooded.

Suddenly feeling parched, I licked my lips, rolling my tongue along them slowly and curled them into a sly smirk. “Everybody deserves to feel a little special,” it came out almost on a whisper, the tense atmosphere setting between us and freezing us into our spots with dark eyes and hungry stares.

I still felt jittery from my encounter earlier in the night and it mixed together with the anticipation of what was to come from this, throwing me into a whirlwind of emotions that made my body tremble slightly. My stomach was all knotted up, but it didn’t feel unpleasant, instead there was excitement brewing and slowly spreading through my bloodstream.

Even after the food arrived, the air kept getting tenser, even as we attempted to have regular conversation, it crackled between us like an onsetting storm. Every word, every sentence inlaid with telling mischievous smiles and expressive eyes. Sometimes during the dinner it started dawning on me that this was inevitable, we both were already too far. With all the flirting we’ve been doing this was really only a matter of time, and it just so happened that tonight the tension was going to explode into something that we probably shouldn’t be doing.

I looked over at Minjoon again, properly eyeing him and his expression, and when his gaze met mine and darkened as he sat there with his cheeks dusted with pink, hunched over like he was ready to launch himself over the table, sitting there like he would rather be anywhere else and preferably somewhere where there were no barriers between us, that’s when I realised he also wasn’t as opposed to this as he should have been.

The small talk flew all stilted between us and we mostly just stewed in our own cocktails of emotions and sensations, trying to chew through our food as fast as possible so we could leave; and even though it was already a little chilly outside, there was a heat coming from within that was enough for a thin line of sweat to bead along my hairline. I couldn’t imagine what picture I painted at that moment, if with one look it was obvious how the arousal was steadily rising in my veins with every another second spent just shyly exchanging heated stares.

Every so often my eyes slipped a little lower, eyeing the young man’s collarbones just peeking out from his dark green tee, sliding up and down his arms as he leaned on the table and ate, and I could see from the delighted sparkles glinting in Minjoon’s eyes that he was aware, and very much returned the favour.

God, this was definitely going to end in disaster. There was no way we could avoid this any longer.

And I was right.

Once done with the food, we sat around for a moment just looking at each other silently, before Minjoon finally gestured towards the door. “You wanna go? I’ll drive you home,” he offered immediately, the kind words that I was already used to by now tinged by something a little more tonight. I nodded and after some flirty arguing over who’s going to pay, I finally surrendered and went outside to wait for Minjoon to settle the bill.

The cold air rushed over me and cooled my burning skin a little and I took a few big breaths to ground myself. The night Seoul was loud and lively, I found myself surrounded by joyful groups and couples dressed in their best sitting in restaurants and eating or walking around the sidewalk laughing, clearly aiming for one of the establishments in the area. It was quite refreshing to see, and I lost myself in the rush and buzz, watching others enjoy themselves.

And that’s how Minjoon found me when he came out, sitting on a little wall by the sidewalk dreamily staring off into the distance. He came over, hand going straight to my face, gently catching a strand of my hair and slowly pushing it behind my ear. He lingered there for a moment, fingertips brushing the reddening tip as all the blood rushed to my face in a mighty blush. On instinct I ducked my head being too flustered and broke the contact, but the man just smoothly moved to my shoulder, pushing me up to stand.

He was very natural in his movements, pulling me to his side and wrapping his arm around my shoulders very lightly, and I just went with it, too shy to express it but too happy to go against it. I fought against the instinct to giggle like a schoolgirl and set out to his car, which was quite a short walk, and unfortunately to my apartment it was a quite short drive as well, even in the restless silence that stretched between us.

Our arrival at my doorstep seemed to have come sooner than I was anticipating, sooner than I was ready to end this little outing. I turned to the brown-haired man and studied his face for a moment. We steadily exchanged eye contact, the tension between us back with vengeance, my throat drying up under his dark gaze. I was fluttering on the edge of propriety, in my head still repeating all the reasons why this was such a bad idea, but it didn’t seem to matter when Minjoon watched me with the same longing and desperation. I felt my skin heating up, my insides stirring with something I haven’t properly felt in such a long time it hit me with a ferocity I wasn’t prepared for.

“Aren’t you going to go home?” he whispered so lightly I almost didn’t hear him. He sounded slightly breathless, tone curious and probing.

“Can you walk me to the door?” I shot back immediately, almost unthinking. He licked his lips, his kind face getting twisted with something akin to intense desire before he quickly nodded, and we both scrambled to get out of his car.

The walk was brief, of course it was. I lived on a second floor and my door was accessible from an outside walkway, so all we had to do was clear two stories of stairs and we suddenly found ourselves by my tiny apartment.

I turned to Minjoon, something expectant in the air between us, and each second ticking by felt like a countdown to the inevitable. I wasn’t ready to end this night here. I knew I wasn’t. And judging by Minjoon’s bottomless eyes, I could confidently gamble on his interest and hit jackpot every time.

As the tense silence stretched out a little, neither of really sure how to tackle this situation as we were caught in the ‘will we won’t we’ and ‘should we shouldn’t we’, until I decided to break the curse. Stepping a little closer and looking up at him through my lashes, my hand latching onto the sleeve of his jean jacket that he put on in the car and tugging lightly, I steeled myself and jumped over the line head first.

“Do you want a cup of coffee before you go?” the whispered question escaped my lips and hung for a few moments between us. I watched as if in slow motion as Minjoon took it in and nodded once, then twice, and then his hand caught mine.

I turned hastily towards the door, jabbing the key in and pushing inside without a single thought in my mind. It turned out, there wasn’t even a need for an awkward pretending of drinking anything, because the second the door closed behind us, we were on each other.

It was like dam broke between us and we suddenly couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Minjoon kissed me quickly and desperately and I fought to keep up, hands going around his neck immediately while his snaked around my waist. Taking off shoes long forgotten, we stumbled inside and towards the sofa.

In that moment, I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about the huge maps in my bedroom. I didn’t realise how lucky I was we didn’t make it any further, too lost in the way Minjoon’s tongue was finally sliding against mine and how his calloused hands caressing my sides felt a lot like heaven.

And when he inevitably got his hands on my skirt and I inevitably thought of Yoongi’s eyes taking me in when I arrived at the balcony, and when Minjoon pulled me closer and I thought of Yoongi’s presence caging me in with his warmth against the railing, of his lips turning into a smug smirk as Minjoon kissed me, then I just pressed my eyes closed harder and tangled my hands into his short brown hair, banishing all thoughts of curly black locks far away into the deepest corner of my mind.

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mountttmase · 1 year

Text

A Mountain To Climb - Chapter Eleven

Note - this was my favourite chapter to write so I hope you love it 🥰 I’d love to know you thoughts so please do let me know and thank you all so much for all your support on this series it’s honestly blown my mind 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

You were on the hunt for a specific lip liner and you were pretty sure you knew where it was. The bag Mason had dropped off all those weeks ago still sat by your door as you were unable to bring yourself to unpack it. You were meeting Sophia for a quick coffee as you’d taken Thursday and Friday off of work so you could treat yourself to a long weekend and she’d been messaging you about meeting up all week as she was going back to Germany for a few days.

In the end you told yourself to get over it, taking the bag into your room and unpacking it quickly as your makeup bag was on the bottom. You were almost there when your hand grabbed a plastic package and you took it out with a confused expression on your face. Your name was printed in the front with nothing else so you ripped into it quickly, curiosity getting the better of you as you couldn’t face going out and not knowing what it was.

You knew exactly what it was before you’d even got it out of the bag, the blue colour familiar to you instantly and you let out a small laugh as you held it up to reveal Masons name and number on the back of the Chelsea shirt he’d promised you. A small piece of paper was attached to the front by some tape and you carefully removed it before reading it.

Sorry it’s late, I tried getting you one with Kepa’s name on the back but was told it’s impossible so you’ll unfortunately have to put up with mine. I can’t wait to see you wear it next time you’re at the Bridge.

Lots of love

Mason xxx

You let out a short sharp breath after you’d finished reading before reading it again and then a third time. He’d clearly snuck this in the night you went to Bens and your eyes stung when you held it up again.

‘Stop crying’ you whispered to yourself with a laugh, placing the shirt down on your bed before hunting for the thing you went into your bag for in the first place. You knew you’d be late now but you rushed as quickly as you could to meet Sophia. You found her inside her favourite cafe with a small suitcase next to her and you quickly ordered before joining her.

She thankfully kept the conversation Mason free and even though you’d never discussed it with her you gathered she knew something had happed as her and Kai told each other everything and the more she avoided the topic the more you wanted to talk about him until you finally cave and asked.

‘If you don’t know then it’s fine, but do you know how Mason is?’ You asked quietly and she gave you a small smile to let you know it was okay. ‘I’ve tried to not look into anything but I just wanted to check he’s doing alright’

‘Honestly? He not been fantastic. I haven’t really heard from him but Kai said he seemed a bit brighter yesterday. In fact a loads of them are having a boys night tonight so I’m kinda glad I’ll be out of the country so I won’t have to deal with Kai’ she laughed as she rolled her eyes before her phone started ringing. It turned out to be the taxi she’d ordered for the airport and after a quick goodbye she was gone.

Rather than head straight home, you went to the park nearby and sat with your thoughts for the first time in a long time. You knew you wanted to speak to Mason but you had no idea how to go about it. In the end you pulled out your phone and typed up a message for him but you couldn’t seem to get the words right. Finally giving up and going home after about half an hour of trying.

Friday morning you’d set aside for a lie in. You didn’t get them very often but you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. Waking up on your own without the sound of your alarm felt like heaven and when you checked to see the time it was coming up to half nine which made you smile.

The five missed calls and a few texts from an unknown number made you curious though and you quickly read over the texts to see what was happening.

Your heart sunk as you read over what Ben had said, an uncomfortable churning in your tummy at the thought of him wanting you around in his drunken state and you just wanted to wrap him up and tell him he’s alright. You contemplated calling Ben but you knew you’d probably talk yourself out of it so you sent him a quick text and got yourself ready to go as fast as you could.

It was just over an hour later when you text Ben to let him know you were outside and he was soon pulling the door open, giving you a small smile at the sight of you.

‘Thank you for coming’ he whispered, holding the door open for you and you were shocked at the scene in front of you. Cups and rubbish strewn across the floor, different bits of furniture moved about and the whole place just felt like a giant mess. ‘Don’t worry about all this, Masons gonna call a cleaner when he gets up’ he told you and you gave him a curious look. ‘You can go wake him up if you want’

‘It’s fine I’ll wait. You can head off Ben, thanks for getting a hold of me’

‘It’s fine. Thanks for being here, I know he’ll appreciate it’ he nodded before he was out the door.

You couldn’t face sitting here in all this junk so you made your way to his kitchen and rummaged around to find some bin bags so you could make a start on tidying up. Once the hallway was put to rights you made a start on the living room and soon enough you were five bags deep and at the end of the roll. Figuring he must have some more in the cupboard you stood on a chair to so you could look higher up but they were just out of reach still, casing you to reach up onto you tiptoes and just as you placed a finger on them you lost your balance and tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on your wrist as you yelped out in pain.

‘Shit shit shit’ you whispered and ten seconds after you heard someone running down the stairs. You didn’t have time to think about seeing Mason properly for the first time in a month before he was standing in his kitchen doorway, dressed only in his boxers as he tried to fathom what was going on in-front of him.

‘Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you alright, what happened?’

‘I was trying to clean up’ you told him as he crouched down next to you. ‘I couldn’t reach the bags and I fell off the chair’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘My wrist is a bit’ you whispered as he placed your good arm around his shoulder and scooped you up before carrying you to his sofa. ‘I said my wrist, Mason. That doesn’t stop me from walking’ you squealed but he didn’t listen to you, just carefully placed you on the seat before running back off to the kitchen.

He came back moments later with a bag of frozen peas that he’d wrapped in a towel and after placing a cushion on your lap he popped your wrist onto it gently before laying the peas on top.

‘Just keep this here a sec yeah? I won’t be long’ he told you before going upstairs. You laid you head back and shut your eyes, taking some deep breaths as the pain eased ever so slightly. You were so in your own head you didn’t realise he was back until he was sitting next to you, now dressed in shorts and a hoodie as he placed some bandages on the coffee table. ‘Can I see?’ he whispered and you nodded as he gently removed the bag away from your hand.

Your wrist was a little swollen but you could wriggle your fingers without any pain which seemed to satisfy him but he insisted on wrapping it up for you, gently apologising every time you hissed or yelped in pain.

‘Are you sure nothing else hurts?’ He asked, securing the bandage at the end but you could only nod your head as you knew your voice would wobble. Once he was happy with his handy work he placed your hand back onto the cushion and looked up into your eyes. You knew they were glassy and he’d be able to read you straight away so you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug you knew the pair of you so desperately needed.

He was shocked at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pull you closer and slot his head into your neck. The pair of you didn’t utter a word to each other as you sat there in a tight embrace, your good hand reaching up into his hair so you could scratch over his scalp lightly and you felt him melt into you even more. The only noise in the room was the sound of each others breathing until you built up the courage to pull back and look at him, his own eyes now full of tears making your heart break even more. You took a big gulp before speaking, your voice quite and wobbly.

‘I think we should talk’ you whispered and he nodded sadly. ‘There’s some stuff I need to tell you that I want you to know. You know I said It’ll explain a lot’ you you him with a little laugh and he gave you a sad smile.

‘Only if you’re sure’

‘I’m sure’ you told him and he shuffled down on the seat, placing a cushion down flat so it looked like a pillow.

‘Will you lay down with me? My heads thumping’ He told you nervously and you gave him a small smile before nodding. The pair of you laid down with your heads on the cushion, your hands automatically resting on his chest and as much as he tried to hide a smile, you could tell he was happy that you’d initiated some physical contact and he tentatively placed his arm around you waist. Even though you had a sweatshirt on you could feel him lightly tracing shapes on your back which settled you instantly. You wanted to tell him you missed him but you were trying to hold it together so you could talk to him.

‘I only ever speak to Freya about this stuff, I’ve never really got it all out in one go’ you muttered, warning him just in case you muddled your words but you could tell by his eyes that you were in safe hands.

‘It’s okay. Just take your time and if you don’t wanna tell me then you don’t have to’ he whispered and it took everything inside of you not to lean over and kiss him.

‘Do you remember that day we went for a walk?’

‘The day where you wore a red jumper and I accidentally insulted you?’ He joked and you let out a little laugh.

‘That’s the one’ you chuckled ‘you told me about your family and stuff and I felt so embarrassed about mine that I lied. My life was nothing like yours growing up’

‘That’s okay, I never want you to feel embarrassed about anything like that. I know not everyone grew up like I did’ he reassured you and you gave him a thankful smile before your hand moved up to his jaw, stroking over his stubble lightly out of habit and you watched him give you and adoring look. Even though you were comfortable as you were, you didn’t feel close enough to him so you shuffled forward, tangling your legs in between his as if the touch if his body on yours would give you the courage to speak.

‘Well it was just the three of us growing up. I never had any siblings or loads of extended family like it was literally just my parents and me. That’s all I ever knew. Then, when I was 12 I came home from school one day and my dad was gone. I didn’t think anything of it at first cause he was always the last one in but when it got to bed time and he still wasn’t there I asked what was going on and my mum told me he didn’t live with us anymore. She didn’t tell me why for a while but in the end I found out he’d been having an affair and he left us to start a new life with his other family’ you told him calmly and you felt him sigh next to you.

‘I’m so sorry, that sounds awful’ he whispered and you gave him a sad smile.

‘Yeah it wasn’t great, when you’re that old stuff like that sticks you know? Things were never the same after that. My mum didn’t help, I think I reminded her too much of him and she didn’t like being around me that much’

‘Well that’s her loss’ he mumbled before placing a quick kiss on your forehead which made you shiver.

‘Then, when I was 14 I got my first boyfriend. His name was Max and he was a boy in my class I’d had a crush on for ages. We were together all the time and I think it really pissed Freya and Maddie off at first’

‘Who’s Maddie?’ He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

‘My other best friend’

‘I didn’t know you had another one’

‘You’ll find out why’ you laughed and this time he laughed along with you. ‘Me and Max we’re together for seven years in total, his family was basically like mine and when I turned 17 they let me move in for a while so we could save up and get our own place. We had all these plans for our future…’ you trailed off and he pulled you in even tighter is that was possible.

‘Y/n please don’t get upset, you don’t have to do this’

‘No I’m fine. Honestly’ you told him, and with one final deep breath you finished your story. ‘It was my birthday and we’d all gone out to this club in London, I came out from the loo and could hear Millie giggling from behind the door that lead outside. I was curious so I followed the sound thinking I could tease her about whoever she was with but that’s when I heard Max’s voice. She was asking when he was gonna finally break up with me so they could be together properly and he told her soon. I didn’t give him the chance and ended it there and then. Turns out it had been going on for a year and I haven’t spoken to the two of them since’

‘Come here’ he whispered, and you didn’t realise you were crying until your head hit his neck and you felt the warm tears press onto your skin. The arm that you were laying on reached up so he could stroke your head whilst his other hand traveled under your top, stroking the bare skin of your back as he tried to offer you some comfort. ‘That sucks y/n I’m so fucking sorry’ he whispered into your hair and you nodded into his neck before pulling back ever so slightly.

‘I know it’s not an excuse, but when stuff like that happens to you twice you start to think it was your fault. Like everything I touch I seem to ruin’

‘None of that was your fault. People are shit sometimes and I’m so sorry that’s happened to you but please don’t blame yourself’

‘It’s why I didn’t want to let anyone else in, I didn’t want to feel like that again’ you hiccuped as he stroked up and down your back gently.

‘I know sweetheart’ he whispered, kissing your forehead and you felt yourself relax at his touch again. ‘I get it okay. I really do. Thank you for telling me’

‘Feels kinda nice to get it off my chest’ you whispered, already feeling lighter about not having to hide any part of yourself from him anymore and he smiled at you warmly. ‘I’m not done yet though’

‘Oh?’

‘That day you came over with my bag, and I shouted at you? Well I was on the phone to Freya when you knocked. She called me to ask if I was okay since she’d figured I’d seen something’

‘Seen what?’ He asked, his face scrunched up with confusion and all you wanted was to kiss his worry lines away.

‘Max and Millie got engaged. I saw it on instagram just before I answered the door’ you told him and you felt him sigh under your fingers. ‘I was so angry. Angry at them, angry about what I’d done to you and I just lost it. I know it’s not right but-‘

‘You don’t have to explain, y/n. I completely get it. I should of knocked a bit earlier I was standing outside your door for about ten minutes, I’m surprised no one complained about me’ he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

‘I’m not angry about it anymore. Why should I be? They both did a horrible thing and they’re welcome to each other. I guess I’m just annoyed they got their happy ending and I haven’t got mine’ you told him and he was smiling at you almost softly. ‘But I am sorry for what I did to you, and I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you at my house. You didn’t deserve any of that and you were right. Just because they were shit to me doesn’t mean I get to do it to you. I really am so sorry Mase’

‘I mean I shouted at you too’ he admitted and you watched the guilt wash over his face. ‘Im really sorry, I can’t believe I said all that’

‘I understand. I know I’m frustrating and I was awful to you. I only said all that stuff cause I knew it would hurt you and then maybe you could move on from me. I don’t want you to just brush it away like it’s fine cause I know it’s not’

‘I’m not, I just don’t want you to beat yourself up about it. I know you’ve felt bad about things but I’ve been feeling pretty awful about what I said too. We can’t change it but I’d love it if we could move on from it’

‘Yeah? I’d really like that’ you smiled and he gave you a sad smile back.

‘I’m sorry you saw me the other night and thought I was on a date too. I’ve been a bit of a grump for weeks and Bens sister was in town so a few of us went out but I get how you got to that conclusion and it wasn’t nice to see but I’d never do that to you’

‘I know’ you smiled, caressing his cheek to let it know everything was fine and by the way he settled into your touch he looked like he believed it.

‘I didn’t mean any of it at all, I just thought we were finally there you know? That i’d worn you down’ he laughed.

‘That we’d finally climbed the mountain?’ You whispered and he looked at you in confusion . ‘That day after Bens when we came back here and I napped on your sofa? I heard you on the phone saying you felt like you had a mountain to climb with me’ you told him with a smile and he laughed as he tried to hide his face.

‘I mean yeah, It did feel a bit like that. It knew it was going to be hard work, and I needed to be patient and keep going but once I got to the top I knew the view would be worth it and I’d get to see things that no one else would see’ he whispered and your whole body erupted in goosebumps at his sweet words

‘And how’s it looking from up there’ you joked as he tickled your back lightly.

‘Beautiful. So fucking beautiful you have no idea’ he breathed, his eyes flickering all over your face and you felt your chest grow warm as he looked at you with loving eyes.

‘I think I might’ you whispered, as the tears that were threatening to fall overflowed from your eyes and before you knew it your lips were on his.

You were both needy for each other, but you kept your kisses soft, knowing full well you’d have ample time to make up for the lost weeks. His tongue invaded your mouth almost instantly as it brushed up against your own and you could feel his heart hammering in his chest under your fingertips which made you smile knowing he was just as nervous as you.

You’d never had a kiss like this before and when he eventually pulled away the pair of you laid there out of breath and looking at each other full of shock.

‘Can I just check? You did come here to tell me that you want this right? Cause if you’re about to end everything after you just kissed me like that then I will go absolutely crazy’ he told you and you burst out laughing at his serious face.

‘I want this, I promise. I’m not gonna lie and say it’ll all be easy from here like I know I’ve still got stuff to work on but I don’t wanna do it on my own anymore. I like you, a lot more than I’ve ever really liked anyone and I just really don’t wanna loose you’

‘You’ve got me’ he whispered, a tiny smile flickering over his face to match yours. ‘You’ve had me from the second I walked out of my hotel room and found you outside’ he laughed and you cringed at the memory. ‘I thought you were a deranged fan at first’

‘Who says I wasn’t? Maybe this whole thing was just a ploy to make you mine’ you laughed and he tickled your back gently as you both laughed.

‘Well I’ll happily be yours’ he whispered and you felt your heart thud in your chest as he looked at you. ‘I want us to stick together and work through this, yeah? That doesn’t mean we have to put labels on anything just yet but I want you to know I’m here for you and when you’re ready to take the next step I’ll be ready too’

‘Why?’ You laughed, almost astounded at the way he spoke about you and cared for you. ‘I’ve been awful to you when you think about it’

‘Maybe I like a challenge’ he winked and you laughed whilst rolling your eyes. ‘I guess I thought we’d come so far from where we first started that I wasn’t willing to give up without a little bit of a fight and if that means giving you time then so be it. Yeah, I won’t lie it was a rocky start and I did wonder what’s the point sometimes but I’ve felt this pull to you from day one. Remember that first night we stayed at Bens? I couldn’t sleep for ages I just laid there and watched you and thought about how lucky I was that you’d come into my life. You’re smart, and cheeky and you’re kind when you want to be’ he winked and you rolled your eyes as he kissed your cheek ‘you’re also the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen’

‘I think you’re pretty too’ you giggled and he laughed as a deep blush crept over his cheeks.

‘If you’d let me, I’d like to be your happy ending’ he whispered almost shyly and you lent over to kiss his nose.

‘I’d like that a lot’ you whispered back, gripping onto him and you both giggled like little kids.

‘You got plans for the rest of the day?’ He asked, fingers still dancing over your back.

‘No, I was planning on sitting around and doing nothing’ you laughed. ‘Would you care to join me?’

‘The thought of doing nothing with you sounds better than doing anything with someone else’ he winked and you fake gagged as he tapped you on the bum in fake annoyance. ‘How did you get in by the way?’

‘Chilly text me, said you kept asking for me last night and asked if I could come over’

‘Of course he did’ Mason blushed as he tried to remember what he’d said last night.

‘You look like shit by the way, how much did you drink?’ You asked, gently stroking the bags under his eyes before you placed a soft kiss on the end of his nose.

‘Enough’ he laughed as you stroked his cheek, closing his eyes as he was enjoying the gentle feel of your fingers on his skin.

‘Why don’t I make you something to eat? Then we can have a nap?’ you asked and he nodded up at you shyly.

‘You’re the best’ he sighed pulling you into him even tighter as he pressed a few kisses against your neck. ‘But we can order something, I don’t want you hurting your hand anymore than it already is’ he told you leaning down to leave a gentle kiss over the bandage.

‘You’re lucky I don’t sue’ you winked before he pulled you up so he could grab his phone to see what he could order.

‘Oh yeah? What do you want? I’ll give it to you right now’ he laughed and you pointed to you cheek in hopes he would kiss it. It didn’t take much for him to lean over and place a delicate kiss to your cheek before gently gripping your chin so you were facing him. You watched his eyes flicker all over your face before they landed on your lips and he bought you in for a kiss just as soft. ‘That one’s free’ he winked before opening up his phone, leaving you looking down at him with a smile. Thankful that today had gone the way you’d hoped.

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00 @chelseagirl98 @mountpulisic @chaotic-taco-collector-blog

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Chapter 5: The Broken Machine

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @welcometostayingawake (she's the real MVP)

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

Steven and you need to find more ways to be alone. Thankfully he has some ideas.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded.

Word Count: 4.6k

Your mind had been buzzing since Wednesday night. It was now Monday morning, and you’d spent the weekend tossing and turning through sleepless nights and struggling to get your work done. Somehow you managed though, despite your mind being almost completely preoccupied with the thought of Steven’s lips on yours.

Nearly every night you’d found yourself waiting for Layla to fall asleep so you could close your eyes and touch yourself to the thought of Steven’s glossy lips after he kissed you. Seeing the way he became completely undone over you was constantly running through your head.

While you’d spent the weekend with your mind in the clouds, Steven spent his fighting the voices in his head. He’d been successful at shutting them out, despite Marc’s desperate attempts at taking over. Steven’s affections for you and his determination to make the other two honor their promise kept him stronger than either Marc or Jake realized he could be.

When he wasn’t arguing with them, he was grabbing the curtain rod while the water ran over his back in the shower and jerking himself thoughts of you. If it wasn’t in the shower, it was in his bed with a towel handy. Steven wasn’t a wholly sexual man, he appreciated the mind more than the body, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely entranced by the thought of taking you on his desk.

He knew he was going to see you today, but he didn’t realize it would be so soon. You were at Moonbean Coffee, back facing him, getting your drink. He didn’t even hesitate to walk inside. When you turned around to face him, it took his breath away.

“Steven.” You said softly. “Hi.”

He had that dumb smile on his face that you couldn’t get enough of. Dopey with hooded eyes that seemed to devour every inch of you. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi…I, uh, remembered my wallet today!” He said proudly.

You chuckled, “that’s good. I’m on a college budget after all.” You grabbed your coffee from T and thanked her.

Steven walked up and ordered his drink as you waited. Still nothing wrong with walking to class alongside your professor.

“Did you see about that art gallery? On the poster there?” Steven asked, pointing at the wall behind you.

You looked at it wistfully and sighed. “Yeah I saw it. Like I said, college budget, can’t exactly afford to go do a lot of extra things like that. Would’ve loved to go though. Oh well.”

His smile faltered and he cleared his throat, “yeah, I can understand that.”

Steven had nearly forgotten what it was like to be a college student. He knew all too well the feeling of indigestion that came with eating ramen for lunch several days in a row in order to save a little cash. He felt bad for even bringing it up, realizing how insensitive it was.

Steven picked up his beverage when it was handed to him, and the two of you made your way outside. Neither of you said a word, you felt too nervous to ask him about Wednesday night, afraid that he might shush you or tell you never to speak of it again. The thought of him rejecting you was gut wrenching.

“Did you finish the paper for class?” He asked, fortunately breaking the awkward silence with something other than the talk of your not relationship.

“Yeah I did, I…Oh shit!” You stopped walking and looked over at him pleadingly. “I forgot to print it. I’ll be a couple minutes late, I guess. I’ll run to the library and get it now.”

He smiled affectionately toward you. He liked it when you looked a little flustered.

“That’s alright, love, just get in as quick as you can, yeah?”

You nodded, “yeah, ‘course.”

His eyes were stuck on yours, they trailed down to look at your lips for a second before you heard someone walking down the sidewalk.

“Dr. Grant!” They shouted. It was another student.

He sucked in a breath and looked over at them and then back to you.

“Go get that printed and I’ll see you in class.” He patted your shoulder.

You felt Steven’s phantom hand on your shoulder for your entire walk to the library. He had you in a daze, unable to think about much else other than his very attractive, though disheveled, appearance.

You pulled out your laptop at your regular table in the corner of the library and got your document opened. It was quiet there, only one staff member and a couple students scattered around. You were genuinely relieved not to see the librarian that Steven had apparently stood up. You felt a little bad for her, but that quickly faded when you remembered why he stood her up.

You set your paper to print and went into the printer room. The machine wasn’t working. Of course it wasn’t working. You knew you should’ve gotten up earlier to make sure you printed it on time, but the sleepless nights thanks to Steven wandering through your mind day and night made it hard to get up on time. You started pushing buttons on the machine when you felt someone step in behind you, standing just a little too close judging by the body heat.

“I think…if you push that button there.” Steven’s voice was closer than you thought as he reached around the left side of you and pressed a green button on the machine. The printer hummed and started right away.

A daring hand touched your right hip. You felt your body tense. He leaned forward, the stubble of his chin touched your soft cheek. You spun around and grabbed the printer behind you for support. Steven’s eyes were bouncing between yours rapidly, his breathing coming out heavy. You tucked the stray curl that fell in front of his face back, Steven humming quietly in response.

Steven was anything but rough, though when it came to things like this, he had a tendency to get carried away. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you against him closer, squeezing tightly. Before you knew it, his mouth melted into yours with a desperation, a need that he couldn’t rightly fulfill there in the printer room of the library. You lost your balance and backed up into the printer, forcing the printing to cease with a loud unhappy sound.

Steven stopped, backing up and looking you up and down. He wiped the spit from his lips and then shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. You wondered if that was a way for him to keep his hands from betraying him even more. You turned around thoroughly flustered and grabbed your papers from the machine.

“Shit.” You muttered, rifling through them. “It only printed a few of the pages.”

The machine had an error message on the screen indicating a jam. Groaning, you pressed your palm to your forehead. Steven placed a comforting hand on your back.

“Let me see what you've got, love. Why don’t you get the rest of it to me later, yeah? I’m sort of to blame.” He let out a soft chuckle and gave you that smile that made your body melt instantly.

“You can’t treat me differently than you treat the other students.” You said under your breath, “that’s not right.”

“If one of my students came to me and told me they’d had trouble printing, I’d let them have a little extra time. I want to be one of those cool professors, you know? The ones all the students like?” He walked out of the room and sighed.

“So far, I’d say you’ve made a good impression.”

With that cheeky statement, and a skull full of nothing but air, you walked over to the table and collected your belongings before following Steven back to the classroom. He didn’t have to wear those tight pants, did he? Hugging the curves of his ass so nicely. You still couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. He gave you a sly smirk as he held the door open for you.

Class was difficult to get through, to say the least. Steven was managing to keep his eyes averted from yours, choosing to focus his gaze on other students. He knew that looking at you would turn his insides into mush, but you had no choice but to watch him and try to absorb his teachings. As he talked your eyes were fixated on his lips, staring intently and trying not to imagine him touching you in all the most depraved ways imaginable.

As class ended, you were trying to leave with the other students so you didn’t look suspicious, but Steven called your name, stopping you just before you reached the door. You turned to face him. He stood up and took his glasses off, placing them on the desk and waited for everyone to leave before speaking.

“Erm, I was thinking that it might be good to move the tutoring sessions to my office instead of…here.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You think it…” you furrowed your brow as you trailed off in thought. Moving the tutoring to his office would be anything but helpful. “Steven, I don’t know if that will really be a good idea, do you? How will I get anything done with…”

“With what?” He stepped forward, your breath caught in your throat.

Did he even know the effect he had on you?

“I’ll make sure we get studying done, I just think …might be nice to have some one-on-one teaching. Less chance of interruptions.” He gulped, “it’s for your benefit.”

Steven wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or you. You were standing there with your eyes wide, biting your bottom lip. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you two were going to be getting any actual work done.

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll be there.” You gave him a smirk before leaving for your next class.

That night you hardly slept again. Your mind was wandering, thinking about Steven pinning you against the printer in the library. Steven was always having trouble sleeping, even before the voices in his head were relentless, but now he was finding it even harder. He was doing it though, he was keeping them away, he wasn’t going to let them interfere with his life anymore, especially now that he’d found you.

Tuesday was tough to get through. You were staring at the clock as Professor Harrow’s class concluded and he dismissed you all.

“There will be a quiz on chapter two of your reading assignment so please make sure to study!” He called to the class as you walked out to the hall with Cameron at your side.

“Do you have another class right now?” Cameron asked, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I was probably gonna just work on a reading assignment for my poetry class, why?” You saw him look from the library and back to you.

“I suck at quizzing and wasn’t sure if you wanted to help me? You always do great with them.” He looked at you with a pair of pleading eyes that made it hard to say no.

Cameron was always so nice to you, and he was genuine. He always helped you with your other classes, and the classes you’d had together in the past, the least you could do was help him with this.

“Sure, let’s go to the library.”

The two of you found a spot near the entrance. You managed to keep yourself from scowling at the librarian that Steven had asked out the other day. You didn’t have any real reason to dislike her, but the thought that he almost went on a date with her brought a little pang of jealousy to your chest.

You and Cameron got to work quickly, and he turned out to be better than he claimed. Professor Harrow’s quizzes weren’t usually very hard as long as you read the chapter he gave you and absorbed the material. It was a creative writing class, and the book was exploring the different ways to express emotions in writing. The big message was “showing” instead of “telling” the reader, which was easier said than done.

You looked up at one point and couldn’t help noticing Steven walking into the library. Your breath caught in your throat, as it often did when he was in the room. Trying to focus on what Cameron was saying became impossible while you watched your history professor make his way to the check out desk. The woman he’d asked out was at the counter. They spoke quietly, but you could make out their conversation.

“I’m sorry for what happened the other night. I should’ve texted you but now’s not a good time f’me. You seem lovely though, so I wanted to apologize for that.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, a sign that you learned meant he was nervous.

“I don’t really care.” She said bluntly. “I took a chance on you because you seemed different than the other losers I’ve dated, but you’re not so…yeah. That’s why I always keep my expectations low.”

“Oh my God, look at this.” Cameron pointed to a passage in the book.

It wasn’t as funny to you as it was to Cameron, but his laughter was contagious.

Steven’s eyes found you when he looked over to his right and saw you sitting with Cameron. You were looking away from him, smiling and reading over something with the other student. While he knew that was good, you talking to someone your own age, it bothered him. It bothered him even more when something the boy said made you giggle. It made him wonder if there was something really wrong with him, feeling this way about someone like you. Everything about it was wrong.

You were so full of life, so curious and kind. There wasn’t anything Steven could think of that he would desire more in a woman. The age difference didn’t matter to him, neither did the fact that you were his student. He just wanted to be around you, to learn about the things you liked, your dreams and goals. He felt himself falling deeper and deeper into this infatuation with you the longer he stared.

Your eyes turned up and met with Steven’s.

“Unless you need something else, then we don’t need to talk.” Jane said to him, breaking his train of thought.

“Yeah, sure, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make things even more awkward.” Steven chuckled.

“Well, you failed so…”

Steven didn’t actually come into the library to apologize to Jane, he had seen you head here from the hall and wanted the chance to see you. It was when he saw Jane behind the desk that he decided he should try to at least clear the air, especially since they were both working in the same building. Really, it was Marc’s fault, he never should’ve pushed Steven to date the poor girl in the first place.

“Right, well. I’ll see you around I guess.”

Steven looked at you one more time on his way out the door before turning the corner and disappearing.

You and Cameron wrapped up your studying before your next class, where you found yourself plagued with more thoughts around Steven. Your thoughts weren’t purely sexual, though those ideas did cross your mind. You wondered what he liked to do on the weekends though, and what kind of music he listened to. He was clearly a worldly man, so you were sure he had a good list of books he enjoyed and stories to tell. Everything about him captivated you, and you wanted to know everything.

When it was finally Wednesday night, after both you and Steven had spent his entire class earlier that day trying desperately not to look at each other, you found yourself standing outside of his office door, knocking on it with a trembling hand.

“Yeah! Just a minute!” You heard him yell out.

After some banging around and several curses, Steven opened the door. He was breathing heavily and giving you that goofy smile that drove you crazy.

“Are you alright?” You asked, chuckling.

“Yeah, better now, just banged my knee on the desk s’all.” He ushered you in the room before closing the door.

You walked over to the chair on the opposite side of his desk and stood there awkwardly. You weren’t sure how to navigate this, now that you were both being more open about your feelings. Did you walk over and just makeout with him? Did he even want to makeout with you? Was this just going to be a normal tutoring session? You decided it was probably best to wait and see what he did.

Steven’s mind was wandering, too, though, just as confused as you were. He wanted nothing more than to pick you up and kiss you breathless all evening, but he also knew that wouldn’t be the most productive thing. You’d worn such a short little skirt, too, and he’d been eyeing you in it all day. You put your bag on the chair as he walked up to you, not close enough to touch, but he was slowly inching closer, clearly unsure.

“So, Steven, now that we’re in your office…” you gulped.

He walked another step closer, “yeah, I thought you could benefit from some…one-on-one tutorin’.”

Another step.

“Are you going to teach me? I don’t know a lot.” You admitted. You were certain that you weren’t talking about history anymore, but wondered if Steven was catching the hints you were handing him on a silver platter.

He took one more step, now standing close enough to reach forward and kiss you if he wanted to.

“Are we…” He leaned in close, “are we still talking about history lessons or…”

You grabbed Steven by the shirt and pulled him in, unable to resist the feeling of his soft lips against yours any longer. He groaned, grabbing your hips and breathing you in with every kiss. You were finally alone, finally able to taste him again, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. Both of your hands were grabbing the back of his head, keeping him close, a small part of you afraid that he was going to pull away from you too soon again.

He didn’t though. Steven wanted to feel as much of you as you would let him. He pushed you back into the desk, grinding into you a little when he did. You felt his erection plainly through his pants, brushing up against your leg gently. You scooted up with his help, various office supplies fell off the desk all around you.

“I’m sorry.” You said breathlessly, working on taking off your jacket.

“Don’t care about that stuff.” Steven muttered while he lazily kissed down your neck.

You finally got your coat off and Steven wasted no time exploring your waist with his large hands. He snuck one of them under your shirt but before going further, he stopped and looked into your eyes.

“Please tell me if you get uncomfortable, alright? We can stop any time, just say something, please.”

You nodded breathlessly before grabbing his curly head and going in for more passionate and sloppy kisses. He was moaning, more than you were, desperate and needy. You’d never been with someone like that, someone who wanted you so badly and so openly. His hand reached up and tucked under the cup of your bra, brushing over the smooth skin of your breast. He brought his lips back to your neck, lapping his tongue over the skin there gently.

“Steven, I want you to touch me…please.” You begged, putting a hand on his arm and slowly pushing it down between your legs.

He looked at you in awe before tucking his hand under your skirt and pressing it against your panties. Steven let out a shuddering sigh upon feeling the soaking wet fabric. You leaned your hips forward into his touch.

“Oh, love, is that…is that all f’me?” He looked down at his arm and then back up at you again.

You bit your lip, “y-yeah, been thinking about you so much. Please, help me.”

He slid his fingers up and worked them in between the waistband of your underwear. The moment his middle finger touched your clit, you gasped. Steven covered your sweet little whimpers with his mouth. When he started swirling his finger around in your juices, you whined even more.

You wanted to feel him. You had to. You were desperate to know what his cock felt like in your hand, how it looked. Steven kept rubbing his finger over your clit while you pulled at his shirt. You were trying to undo the buttons, but they were giving you trouble.

“Just rip it, just take it off, don’t care.” He said, watching you pop the buttons off with a harsh pull.

He brought his chest to yours again, laying you back on the desk while he kept moving his fingers over your soaked folds. You helped him get your panties off so he could get to you easier.

“Wanna hold your cock in my hand, please Steven.” You said softly, pulling at his pants.

He stepped back and undid his pants, pulling them down around his thighs along with his boxer-briefs.

“Oh. Oh wow.” Your eyes grew wide at the sight.

“What?” Steven looked down at his thick cock and then back up at you. “S’not good? Something wrong?”

“N-no I just…it’s huge.” Your jaw was hanging open until Steven let out a self satisfied chuckle and came back over to you.

He replaced his fingers over your clit, drawing circles around it, teasing you like mad. The feeling of having him so close was intoxicating and you almost couldn’t believe it was really happening. You reached a hand down grabbing his cock firmly in your hand. Steven’s body trembled at your touch. It was so thick you couldn’t wrap your whole hand around it. He bucked his hips forward, forcing your hand down to the base.

Steven went back in to cover your lips in his before slipping a finger into your slick channel. You hummed into his mouth, squeezing his hair a little harder and tightening your grip around his cock. You moved your hand up and down in a slow jerking motion, not sure if you were doing it right, but he seemed to like it.

That’s the moment that Steven realized that when you said you didn’t know a lot, it’s because you hadn’t done a lot. His finger was thick, and your cunt was tight. He didn’t dare to try for another. He slid his one finger back and forth, running it along your soft walls, drawing whimpering moans from your lips. He separated his face from yours and looked at you.

“You’ve never…you’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked breathlessly.

You shook your head, “I mean, I’ve done some stuff before but I’ve never, like, gone all the way with someone.”

As if he needed another thing to add to his already guilty conscience. He couldn’t hear Marc, and hoped that Marc wasn’t silently listening in because he knew he’d get a headful later if he was.

“Don’t you worry about anything other than this, yeah? I want you to feel good, feel ready. What you’re doing there with your hand, that’s perfect, love, s’all I need.”

He seemed very insistent on kissing you as much as he could, as though your lips would run off if he didn’t hold them down with his own.

You held on to the back of his head for support while you kept sliding your hand over his shaft. A big part of you really wanted to give yourself over to him, to feel him inside of you, splitting you open, molding you to his size; the other part of you, the part with some common sense, knew that it was better to wait. You weren’t ready, that much was clear by the way you were trembling in his arms.

Steven churned his hips in rhythm with the finger that was fucking your hole. You felt so wet, so soft, he couldn’t believe you were so aroused by him. He knew you were into him, that much was apparent, but he didn’t know you were that attracted to him. The feeling excited him. He so desperately wanted to feel what your cunt would be like, clenching down over his girth while he filled you up, but he knew you’d tell him when you were ready. For now, your little hand wrapped around his cock, sliding deliciously in time with him felt more than enough.

“Oh, love, you feel that? Your pretty little…oh it’s just tightening so much over my finger, does that feel good, darling?”

You nodded, “yeah, yes it feels better than anything, Steven I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer.”

All those nights you’d spent finger fucking yourself while dreaming of this moment couldn’t compare to the real thing. You never thought Steven would feel this good touching you, his thick fingers feeling so much more intense than your own. In one more push forward, one more run against your walls, your arousal pooled in your core and sent you gasping, head tossed back while your mind went blank.

Steven thrust faster into your hand, which you’d stopped jerking at that point, unable to continue moving your body at all. You felt the spurts of cum as they hit you, some on your inner thighs and some even landed on the floor. Steven sounded beautiful when he was coming, and his face had never looked so at peace as it did in that moment.

He leaned in and kissed you again, keeping his lips there for a while before pulling you in for a long embrace.

“How was that? Did I do okay?” You asked as he pulled back from the hug.

His brow furrowed, “love…” he touched your cheek softly. “‘Course you did, you could just do nothin’ at all and I’d be just as thrilled.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this infatuation from him. He stepped back and started pulling up his pants. Sitting up, you reached between your thighs and took a glob of his cum that had landed there and held it on your fingers.

“Oh, let me grab you a-”

You stuck your fingers in your mouth to taste him before he could finish speaking, too curious to stop. It was salty and sweet, a delicious combination that you weren’t expecting. The texture was different, but not bothersome to you at all. Steven’s lips were slightly parted and he just stood there with his hand pressed against his chest.

“Is that, erm, what did you think?” He asked.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you about the taste of his cum, or if he was referring to his fingering you, but it was all better than you could’ve dreamed.

You smiled at him happily, “all of it was more than good, it was perfect.”

Previous Chapter - Next Chaper

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed):

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @outmodead, @sleepyamaya, @pimosworld, @ababynova, @flordelalunas, @360iris, @momo-mochiball, @missdragon-1, @lunar-ghoulie, @liquorlaughslove, @kiwibaekie, @wordacadabra, @deezisnotreal, @onzayhe, @romanarose

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endereies · 6 months

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Fuck it - Matt Sturniolo - Part 6

Spotify playlist:

Summary: Fem!oc x Matt Sturniolo

Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Authors notes:

I'm finally finished with school for the break so I should be updating a little quicker over the next 2 weeks.

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 3265

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Is this something we are meant to do?” “Fuck it.”

“Okay, so, we submit this on Monday and we still have four scenes to analyse and then two exam questions to go through.” Matt mumbles as he places his back down next to me in the library and unsheathes a load of sheets, more are crumpled than ones that aren’t. The amount of them excelling the more meetings we had after school.

“We can get that done in a weekend, right?” My voice tainted with uncertainty. I had got to the library fifteen minutes before him so all my work was already displayed out in front of me with scribbles of different coloured pen one each of them.

“right.”

We were a little bit behind in our project since the majority of our meetups end in us just talking about random things or playing music with our home equipment. I would borrow Chris’s old guitars which was covered in a metallic red with black strings. The picks he bought matched perfectly dividing the red and black shades with lines of silver. Matt’s drumkit was similar to the school’s own designs yet on the base drum was the name ‘sturniolo’ in a faded midnight blue. Each drum fastened with the same blue wrapped around them. He had custom drum sticks too, fading from the original beige wood to a dyed neon-blue. The vibrancy capturing my attention every time, I bet he knew that to with the amount he’d smirk at me when he noticed me staring.

It's why we planned on staying in the library to finish the project, hopefully none of us get distracted. That’s if Matt stopped tapping his pen on the table.

“Matt.” My tone is stern as I frown still facing the pages of my book. He was too distracted in his ‘mini-concert’ that I grabbed his wrist firmly, which made his pen fall out his hand and onto the wooden desk below him.

He stammers a little as I glare at him and raise an eyebrow at him.

“The fuck did I do?”

“If you keep tapping that fucking pen on the desk, I will snap it in half.” I hold eye contact until I’m finished speaking and I let go of his wrist, watching his circulation fade back.

“And yet, you can do it all the time.” He smirks at me again and I retort by scoffing.

“When I’m in class and have nothing to do…you haven’t written anything for 10 minutes.”

“Normally by now we are playing music at our houses, this is a long ass day and this is only making it longer.” A sigh escapes my lips and I drop my pen, lean back for a moment and fold my arms loosely across my chest.

“Okay. If you work with me until six, I’ll buy you lunch all of next week.”

“Ain’t no way, you aren’t serious.”

“And you can get whatever you wish, no matter the cost, doesn’t even have to the food on campus.” I interject him by cutting him off and leaning closer over the table.

“Fine. Deal.” He holds out his hand in front of me and I look up at him with a blank expression.

“What are we, in 6th grade? I’m not shaking your hand.” I roll my eyes to him to just pick up my pen and start writing again.

“Damn, you’re no fun.”

“No…I just happened to hit puberty.” I click my tongue inside my mouth

I feel his glare on me before he continues to work on the papers in front of him. I take out my small white case and take out one of my headphones and pick up my phone to play some music in to them. I don’t bother checking what playlist I click on and immediately blast heavy dubstep into my ears, loud enough to make Matt pay attention to me again and giggle when I jump from the volume. I spam the volume control and turn it down rapidly until I can tolerate it. Matt immediately looks away from me, trying not to laugh when I hold my gaze on him for a few seconds.

“Is it nearly six, Alyia. My hand is fucking cramping up.” Matt whines for the fourth time in ten minutes.

“Like I said two minutes ago, no. Besides you have yet to finish of that question and it’s been nearly thirty minutes.”

“I don’t understand how you’ve been writing for that long without taking a break.”

“I want to get this finished; I don’t exactly want all this effort to go down the drain. I’ve stayed up too many nights for this.”

“Really…?” His voice filled with concern as his smirk and joke-filled demeanour faded quickly.

“What.”

“I would’ve done more of you asked me to…you didn’t have to stay up for any of it.” I interject him before he can continue

“Matt. I have more time than you, the project’s getting done. Does it really matter?” I look up to him, dropping my pen for the first time in a while.

“Of course it matters, you need sleep Alyia.”

“I also need this project done.” He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, returning the glares I’ve been giving him all night.

“Promise me you’ll relax after the project is due and let me finish off the last two questions.”

“You really like your promises, huh?” My page fills the silence as it crumples, getting caught on itself, making me purse my lips as I try to fix it before continuing to write.

“Alyia.” He grabs the pen out my hand and places it far from my reach and I narrow my eyes at him again. “I mean that, let me handle the rest of it and get some rest. Please.” I raise my eyebrow at him.

“I’ll sleep appropriately, fine, but I’m writing the last question. You can happily take the other one if you so desire.”

“Thank you. I’m not having your sleep decrease because you don’t want to ask for help.” His words make me raise my voice at him.

“What do you mean by that.”

“I don’t recall me stuttering. You have been sacrificing your sleep because you didn’t want to ask me to do a little more work.” He leans in to me, as if he is mocking me and I scoff.

“Not true.” My words mumble, subconsciously knowing he is right.

“Whatever, look it has gone six now, c’mon. We can work on this later on.” He shuffles papers together and stuffs them into his bag, lacking organisation which makes me stare at his back with a slightly shocked expression.

I follow his actions, however, and with a heavy sigh I put all my work in a pile, putting the sheets in between two books to keep them straight.

“You want to hang out later or something?” He slings his backpack over his shoulder and looks back at me.

“Hang out, me and you somewhere. I would recommend my place but Nick is there with Chris and Madi.”

“I know a place we could go if you want? I haven’t been there in a while so I don’t know how overgrown it is.”

“Wait wait. Did you say overgrown, what kind of fucking place is this.” Matt waits for me to catch-up to him and I walk slightly faster so he doesn’t have to wait so long.

“Amery Grove? There is a line of old houses at the back that people kind of forgot about, maybe like twenty years ago? I’m not sure.” Matt gaze falls to me as I start to ramble, simply listening to my words.

“Well, anyway, about two years ago a few of my friends and I decided to fix a few of them up during the summer. We didn’t decorate or anything but we cleaned old furniture and threw out what we didn’t need. While it wasn’t the prettiest, we hung out there a lot.”

“So, you just went to abandoned buildings and fixed them?” He keeps walking and opens doors in front of me as I keep talking. When he does, I quickly walk through them and turn to face Matt, proceeding to talk with my hands.

“Yeah, it was fun, even if our skills were mediocre, it made for good hangouts and a few parties.”

“You go to parties?” He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes in response.

“Not as much anymore, I went when I had more friends to talk to and less schoolwork on my back. Maybe at some point…”

“Cmon you are slow” I drag out my words and groan as I get more excited, wanting to jump up and down to reduce the amount of energy but instead I shake my hands around.

“Jesus Alyia, I’m just putting our bags in here, I’m not carrying all of this across the Grove.” He arranges the bags in the back seats like some real-life game of Tetris. After another minute or so he finally shuts the car door and locks it.

“Okay I’m done, let’s go.” He puts his keys back by his belt and returns to my side.

“I haven’t been here in a while, so no promises on how clean it’ll be.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He smiles at me briefly before focusing on walking through some reasonably tall grass.

The trail I normally use is more overgrown than what I used to walk through so as we walk, we use old trees to climb past different areas and our feet to stamp on brambles and stinging nettles. It is pitch-black outside by this point so we are using our phone’s flashlights to guide our way through the trail. Leaves hang down from nearby trees and I start to wish I brought my jacket with me.

I place my feet onto a tree stump and try to climb over a fallen branch, but when my weight switches feet, I slip on some moss and fall backwards from the stump. My phone drops from my hand and the flashlight goes into my eyes, making me close them. I place my hands back to support myself for when I hit the floor but I never do. Instead, a tight grip snakes around to the side my waist and upper back, slowly pushing my body back to stand straight.

“Woah woah, are you alright…” I open my eyes to see Matt looking down at me with concerned eyes. I can barely make it out since he dropped his phone and its flashlight instantly to catch me. His chain dangles above my face and once I stand up properly, he uses one of his hands to push his hair back, keeping the other on my waist.

“Uh huh…” I regain my focus and brush myself off and pick up our phones from the damp grass. “Thanks”

“Of course,” He takes his phone back, brushing off the debris, continuing to walk ahead of me and over the branch I just slipped on. “You need to be more careful, sweetheart.”

It’s that fucking nickname again.

“Here we are!” I run ahead of Matt and smile bright at the few houses on a quiet lit up street.

“Its still the same…” I smile to myself, remembering how I used to run around here.

“Yeah? I think it looks fucking awesome.” He circles around me looking at the few houses, clearly seeing a difference between the ones I fixed up and the ones I left.

“Really?”

“Really. Y’know…maybe one day we could fix one up?” I turn my head a little too quickly to face him, who was already smiling at me.

“You wanna? Like, for real?” He simply nods to me before walking off to look at one of the houses closest to us.

I run to catch up to him again and I grab his wrist to show him inside one of the houses. The inside walls occasionally spotted with carvings of names and dates, ripping through worn out wallpaper. Unfinished projects left abandoned, mostly within the kitchen. I pick up an old and now rusted hammer and spin it around in my hands, recalling the last use of it going towards a leg of an old chair that lay on its side next to it. A bittersweet smile covers my face the more I venture the house, with Matt always following right behind, dragging his fingers across old cabinets and cupboards.

“you guys did so much work in here…” He picks up old projects that remain unfinished and analyze them one by one, awe showing within his eyes. “Why did you ever stop this?”

“We stopped being as close I guess...nothing personal to one another, just different schools and points in our lives. I still have contact but no one really talks as much anymore.” I quiet my voice and sit down on one of the chairs and put down the hammer.

“None of us ever took that personally, we just drifted. Miss it all like hell though.”

Matt stays quiet for a moment, just looking at me with slight pity.

“That’s a shame, especially since nothing even happened that you could’ve changed.” The distance between us closes as I stand up again but I simply keep walking towards the bottom of the stairs before I slowly walk up them.

Matt pov:

I follow her up the stairs, stepping where she did in case any areas are weak enough to break, but once I put that focus into the decor upstairs, I stand still. The upstairs was so much nicer, covered in intact wallpaper and furniture that made it seem like someone actually lived there. More carvings were decorating the walls and less tools were on the floors. I take in more of what’s around me, admiring the hard work.

Hearing the stories about her old friends make me smile but also makes me wonder why she is more closed off to people now.

We start to wonder around the different areas that she decorated and I admire the craftsmanship and efforts they put in to it.

“We can chill up here if you want?” Alyia points to a balcony that is guarded by a wooden fence, a few old chairs are stacked up and leant against the glass door and I walk through.

“Can I ask why you took me here, not that I hate it or anything. Just…if this place reminds you of your friends, why bring me here.” Alyia’s face falters slightly and I feel bad for bringing them up.

“This place has many memories but I feel stuck whenever I come here, and I love this place. I don’t want to come back here and feel self-pity when I see those carvings on the walls.”

“I meant it by the way.”

“Meant what Matt?” I look up at her before looking over the edge and down onto the weakly lit street.

“Fixing a place up with you, could be fun.” I smile at her before looking back over the edge and laying my arms on the wooden fence, trying not to apply a lot of weight onto it.

“I have no idea if any of the lighting still works properly, a few faulty lights here and there but nothing major enough to set anything up properl-“

“So? We have already walked through here in the dark easily enough, besides we don’t have to come here only at night.”

I turn back to look inside the house but my vision is slightly impaired from looking at the street lights too long. I change my point of view and glance down to my phone to check the time.

9:24pm

“Shit, it’s kind of late, do you parents want you back at a certain time?” I message Chris and Nick an apology after seeing the copious number of texts and missed calls.

“Uhm no, I can be back whenever” She trails off and I remember the phone call she had at my place.

“Oh…is she not home again?” I receive a small nod in return.

“You can stay over if you want to?”

“No, it’s okay I have things to do anyway…” She avoids eye-contact with me but I try not to question anything

“Alright then, should we head back, I’m being attacked by Nick so much” I see her smile as I finish speaking and just stands up and starts to walk back to the stairs.

“Just here, okay?” I turn the wheel and look through my window for any parking on the edge of the road.

“Yeah, this is perfect, thanks again” She thanks me for the millionth time tonight.

“Kid, I’ve already said it’s okay to drive you places.” I finish parking which makes the car tilt slightly as it reaches over the curb.

“Goodnight Matt.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

The drive back to my place was quite bleak, even when I turned aux on, none of the songs fit the mood I was in. Whatever that mood was. I just focused on the road ahead and the way the lights shone through my windshield and lit up areas in my car like a mini disco. I sigh when I hit another red light and pull the cable from my phone and I resort to the radio music. It immediately blares and I turn it down quickly to a volume quiet enough for some background audio.

I should hate you – Gracie Abrams

It was already half way through the song but I let it play none-the-less, letting the calm guitar fill the car. The quiet and soft vocals relaxed me and I was able to take a deep breath that didn’t result from frustration.

I notice the song fading out just as I pull into the road that I live on so I turn the radio off completely as to not ruin my mood, but as soon as I step inside it gets dampened anyway.

“Oh my God, Matt. Where were you!” I drop my keys into a small bowl and I instantly get bombarded by Nick’s concerned voice.

“Out.”

“Out? Is that all you have to say. You said you were revising the project until six and then you would be home. It is nearly half ten and this is the first we have heard from you!” he starts to exclaim and honestly, I can’t blame him for the way he is acting

“I went somewhere with Alyia…that’s all. I guess we lost track of time.” I mumble quietly, knowing I’m in the wrong but I’m not going to apologize for having a good time.

“I’m not saying you can’t hang out with people, just let us know, okay? It could be three am for all I care but as long as I have some form of communication. You had us worried…” Nick takes a deep breath and looks down to the floor.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve said something…Where is Chris?” I try and change the subject to lessen the amount I get yelled at.

“He’s asleep upstairs, he wanted to wait for you but he was exhausted after hockey so I refused to let him.”

I look up to Nick and give him a tight-lipped smile, feeling guilt twinge inside briefly.

“You better go have a shower or something, you’re covered in dirt, Matt.”

“Yeah, I will…sorry again.” Nick simply hugs me tight.

“It’s alright, just don’t let me stay up again.” He punches my arm lightly and we smile at each other.

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07

#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

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k-evans-reads · 2 years

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In Living Color

Chapter 5 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,182

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

May 2021

The furious scratching sound of Nat’s graphite pencil was the only thing that could be heard in her office as the California sunshine poured through the big windows. She could see by the dent in the fibers of her paper that she was pushing down too hard as she worked on some of the character sketches on her to-do list, but when she glanced over at her phone, she knew exactly why she was holding the pencil with such force.

Nat knew that she should just close her phone, after all it wasn’t as if she’d missed a text from Chris with as many times as she’d checked their text thread over the weekend. But it still was just as quiet as it had been since Saturday when Chris had texted her to tell her something came up and he couldn’t meet her after all. At first Nat hadn’t given it much thought, knowing with the way they had kissed and flirted that Friday night that his longing to see her the next day had been authentic. But when the calendar had flipped from Saturday to Sunday, and now to Monday and still no word from Chris, she realized she’d officially been given the brush off.

It wasn’t a new feeling for her, and she knew it deep deep down that the fleeting chance they’d held together was gone. He’d come to his senses and realized Nat was, as many had before, not good enough for even the guy in the apartment down the street, nevertheless the man in the sprawling home perched on the edge of Laurel Canyon, who made more money from a single movie than Nat could ever hope to make in her career. She was used to getting close to someone, only to have them realize that she was just too much to handle, not ever being able to fully understand her and looking for a way out and it seemed that Chris was no different.

But that didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt.

She hated to admit just how much it was bothering her, wishing she had just stuck with her more recent realization that she’d be better off alone for the rest of her life and not given a second thought to Chris. If she had, it’d be saving her the pain she was feeling. Nat reached over and quickly exited out of the text conversation, hating how it felt as if it was taunting her and shoved her phone in her purse, realizing it was about time to leave.

Even with the disappointment she felt in her heart at the moment, she knew that there was a man in her life that had never disappointed her and she was on her way to pick him up right now. She’d spent the entire morning watching her notifications not only for a text from Chris, but also for the flight updates from her dad’s airline, and just as she’d gotten up, her phone buzzed with the final update that his flight was about to land.

Making her way out of her office and down the hall, she poked her head into Jamie’s office, just as some of the other department head’s left the manager’s meeting in his office. “Hey Jamie, I’m headed out to pick up my dad,” she reminded him, shifting the bag on her shoulder as his head popped up from where he’d been typing an email.

His brows were furrowed for a split second until he nodded, reminding himself, “Oh that’s right, he’s coming today.”

“Yep and he’s staying until Saturday morning so I get almost a week with him,” she grinned, unable to suppress the happiness she felt at that. It’d been a long and lonely few months in Los Angeles, going from working in-office and living with Shane prior to lockdown, to moving home and surrounding herself with her family during quarantine, until she finally moved back to California in the late fall. And while it certainly had been an adjustment now, she had begun to realize what life would be like in her new reality only once she’d returned to working on campus in the early spring.

“That’s so great Nat, I’m excited for you,” he smiled at her, and Nat knew just how truly happy he was for her. Both Jamie and Mark were the people she was closest to outside of her family and had been for years, so they knew just how much it meant to her to have this time with her dad. Nat stayed leaning against the doorframe when Jamie asked, “Are you taking the day off or are you coming back?”

“No, I’ll be back today. Dad is going to just hang out in my office and read his book so I’ll see you in a little while,” she explained, and as her phone chimed with a text from her dad – presumably telling her they landed. With a rushed smile, hurried goodbye and a repeated promise to come back to finish out the day, she headed out to her car and headed out of the campus.

Nat dumped her bag into the passenger seat before starting the car and heading toward the exit of the parking garage, but she hadn’t even been able to pull out onto the road when the phone ringing chimed loudly through the speakers in her car. She smiled as she saw Heather’s name on the call, knowing it was time for the traditional Marton sisters Monday lunch break phone call.

She barely began to say hello to her oldest sister when Heather interrupted her, asking, “Is dad there yet?”

“No, I’m on my way to the airport to get him now,” she replied as she slowed to a stop at a red light.

The phone beeped momentarily before Alex’s voice filled the car’s speakers as she said, “Hey, I’m here! What did I miss?”

“Nothing, we just started,” Heather informed her. “I’m pretty surprised Nat doesn’t sound more excited about dad almost being there. I figured you’d be bouncing off the walls, Nattie.”

“I know, there hasn’t been a day in the past month that you haven’t mentioned it in the group text,” she could hear Alex laughing from the other end of the call.

Nat slid her black sunglasses on her face before pulling onto the freeway, running a hand through her thick curls before being unable to hold her feelings in and told them, “I am excited, I’m just having an emotional crisis.”

“A real one or a Nat version?”

She tilted her head at the comment, laughing at her eldest sister’s comment before wondering, “What’s a Nat version?”

Heather scoffed, supplying, “When you get in your artist mood and feel all nostalgic or cry over a pretty tree or some shit.”

“No this is real,” Nat shook her head even though she knew that neither of her sisters could see her.

Her sisters were silent for a moment until Alex quietly asked her, “Is it a guy?”

Nat sighed, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she slowed to a stop as she waited to get off the freeway. “Well-“

“Oh my god it is! Who is it? What’s going on?” She immediately recognized Alex’s voice as she rapidly fired her questions, interrupting Nat without a care in the world.

Nat hesitated, unsure how much to open up to her sisters. While she feared sharing her thoughts would speak her worries into existence, she needed some advice. Finally, she began, “Do you remember my friend Chris I mentioned?”

“No, who is that?” Heather wondered, not being able to keep it all straight between her hectic job, kids, and keeping up with Nat and Alex’s lives.

“He’s the co-worker,” Alex piped in before Nat could even answer and then quickly demanded, “Okay hurry up and spill, I need to know.”

“I just don’t know what’s going on,” she confessed with a huff, frowning as she drove through an intersection. “We’ve been friends for a little while now and a few times it’s felt flirty but I wasn’t sure.”

“Flirty as in what he’s said or how he acted?” Heather tried to clarify.

“Both,” Nat answered, quiet as she tried to gauge their reactions. “But then on Friday we kissed.”

Alex let out a low whistle, causing Nat to purse her lips as her sister murmured, “You could have led with that.”

Nat couldn’t repress the smile and her fond eye roll at Alex’s statement. “But here’s the weird thing. So we were flirting a lot at Mark’s birthday party on Friday and then we just were like touching and well just flirting I guess. Then he walked me to my Uber and we kissed,” she explained quietly.

“Have you seen him since?” Alex asked, her voice curious.

“That’s the weird thing,” she told them while finally turning off at the right exit. Nat still couldn't figure all of this out in her brain and hope that her elder sisters could tell her something she missed and explained, “He seemed so into it and brought up us getting together the next day but then he texted me Saturday and said something came up with work and I haven’t heard from him since.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Heather muttered, “Yikes.”

“See? I knew it was bad!” Nat’s left hand flew off the steering wheel as she tossed it in the air, deflating into her seat with a sigh as she asked them, “He’s giving me the brush off isn’t he?”

“I won’t lie, Nattie, it kind of sounds like it,” Alex hated to admit it.

Although it wasn’t surprising to her, Nat still was hopeful that maybe their answer would somehow be something different. A long sigh escaped her before she muttered, “I’m not really surprised. He’s out of my league anyway,”

“Maybe it was something with work though, I mean, it is only Monday afternoon,” Heather pointed out, but she knew her eldest sister well enough to know that she was trying to cheer her up and soften the blow.

“It’s just so unlike him to just not say anything though,” she conveyed, knowing that it was true. In the few months they’d known each other, she had come to learn just how vocal Chris was, their text chain rarely lying silent for more than a few hours. “I just don’t know how to read this whole situation.”

“Don’t text him, let him be the one to pursue you or not, that way you’ll know,” Alex tried to guide her younger sister, speaking from her own experience.

Nat hated how much this hurt. She didn’t want to be attached to someone like this again and hated that she’d let herself fall for someone so unattainable so easily, telling her sisters in a defeated tone, “After Shane I didn’t even want another relationship and this is partly why.”

“Honestly I was a little surprised when you called and said it was about a guy. I just didn’t think you wanted to be involved with someone yet,” Heather admitted, knowing that the facts didn’t all line up.

“I didn’t… but things with Chris just sort of… happened, I guess. Or I thought they did,” Nat furiously blinked her eyes as she kept driving toward the airport, hating that she could feel tears trying to sting at her eyes.

The line was quiet for a long moment before Heather wondered, “… You really like him, don’t you Nattie?”

“I wish I could say no, but I can’t,” Nat knew it was the truth. She wanted nothing more than to say it didn’t bother her but she knew that’d be a lie. She didn’t know how she’d ended up in this position, hating how easily Chris had become a fixture in her life, which only made it hurt that much more when she was met with his sudden rejection. “I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter anymore obviously but thanks for listening.”

“Of course, we love you Nattie,” Heather told her, the sympathy in her voice hurting Nat’s heart even more. “And who knows, maybe things will work out.”

With a small roll of her eyes, Nat muttered, “I doubt that.”

Nat was thankful when the conversation shifted to Alex filling them both in on the latest funny things her son had said and Heather adding in her own anecdotes about her children, only making Nat longing to just be with all of them right now. But the melancholy feeling that had plagued her the past few days and hidden her normal sunny demeanor was quickly gone when she saw her dad walking toward her car with a suitcase in hand. It took Nat no more than two seconds to get out of the car and nearly tackle her father in a hug, needing his love and presence so dearly.

The drive back to the Disney Campus felt as though it flew by as she and her dad caught up on what little time had passed since they’d spoken in detail with each other. As they pulled into the employee lot next to her building, Nat told him about what was going on at work, about her meetings earlier in the morning, and what the rest of her day looked like.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she admitted as she put her car into park, turning the key and pulling it out of the ignition with a sigh, feeling every last bit of tension from the situation with Chris leave her body as she looked at her smiling dad.

Eric looked at her with a grin that became a smirk as he joked, “Me too, you’ve escaped my dad jokes long enough.”

“Oh you mean the ones you text me almost every day?”

“Yeah but now you get them in person,” he shrugged, following Nat’s lead as they got out of the car. With a quick stop at her trunk to grab his suitcase, they headed into Nat’s building to drop their things before going to grab lunch at the commissary.

As they made their way down the sidewalk into the building, Nat bumped her shoulder against his as she honestly said, “I’ll take it if that means I get to have you here.”

Eric was quiet as they made their way into the elevator and Nat felt thankful the doors slipped close without anyone else joining him when he asked, “...You okay Nattie?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, unable to make herself seem more convincing than that. “I’m just being me, I guess. I’m just feeling emotional.”

“About what?” He asked her quietly as the beeping of the elevator passing floors echoed in the small space.

“Just… a lot of things,” she sighed with a shrug, shifting uncomfortably as the anxieties flooded her again. “Coming back here after the pandemic was just a lot harder than I expected.”

“Just adjusting again? Or what do you mean, Nattie?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. She’d been struggling and all but spiraling since Chris flaked out on her last minute on Saturday, but it hadn’t been helped by the already-present thoughts in her mind. She missed home, she missed being around her family, and she missed getting to share her days with someone that wasn’t Mark or Jamie. Heather had Ryan and Alex had Zach, and for five years she had Shane, but even a year later she was struggling to reconcile with what her new reality looked like, especially in this new world. “I guess that ever since I came to California I’ve been just so involved in my job. You know that I love what I do, it’s truly my dream, but I guess with everything happening with Shane and then spending so much time back at home, now coming back here and getting back to my normal life, it’s just made me kind of wonder if this is really what I want the rest of my life to be?”

They were quiet as they made their way out of the elevator and a short distance down the hallway before they stopped at Nat’s office. Once the door shut behind them, she avoided his eyes, knowing he was worried as he quietly asked her, “Are you thinking of quitting?”

“No, it’s not that. I think just coming back here has made me realize that I’m… lonely,” she shrugged, dropping her stuff quickly before she grabbed her wallet and work badge out of her bag as she hung it over her chair. “I just see Heather and Alex with their families and I just want what they have. I want my life to be more than just my job.”

Eric nodded, following Nat once he’d rolled his suitcase next to her couch. “That’s normal to feel, Nattie. Most people do want a family of some sort, I think you’ve just been too busy for so many years that you haven’t noticed,” he explained, falling into step with her again as they popped back out of her office and into the hallway, retracing their steps back outside.

She was silent on the elevator as some interns joined them on the ride down to the lobby, not wanting many people to overhear it. “You’re probably right,” she finally told him as they stepped back out into the California sunshine, her arms wrapping around herself as she led her dad to the commissary.

He huffed out a laugh and a grin had settled on his lips when Nat turned his head to look at him. “I usually am,” he reminded her.

“I would argue with that but sadly it’s true,” she laughed in agreement, pulling open the doors to the commissary and leading him inside.“I think for now I just want to try to take a little more time off work and come home more often. I’m planning on coming home for Ella’s 9th birthday since Heather said she was going to do a family party. Maybe if I spend more time at home then I won’t feel this way as much.”

Eric laughed again as he reached for a tray and followed Nat through the crowded employee hall, his eyes taking in the different offerings. “I don’t know, with the way Alex’s pregnancy hormones have been lately, I think the more time you spend around us, the more you’ll be happy to come back to California,” he joked as he reached for a turkey sandwich.

Once they’d each picked out their lunches and he’d insisted on buying her lunch, they found a table tucked in a back corner, sitting down across from each other. He’d begun catching her up on the latest things going on back at home, the funny stories he’d heard at work and the newest gossip from the neighborhood but halfway through one of his stories, Nat’s eyes drifted from looking at her father across the table and landed on a tall frame that was walking toward their table.

“Chris?” She asked, her brows furrowing as she quickly wiped her face with a napkin. “Um hi, I didn’t uh, expect to see you here today. Is there something for Lightyear going on today?”

“No, I have a late shoot tonight and so I just wanted to stop by to see you. I went to your office but Mark told me you were here,” he explained, an awkward look on his face as he met her eyes before gesturing between her and her dad. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, no, sorry, this is my dad, Eric. And dad, this is my friend Chris,” she introduced them, watching as Chris easily charmed the man.

“It’s so nice to meet you Eric, I’ve heard so much about you from Nat that I feel like I know you.”

“Well I always love to get to meet Nattie’s friends,” Eric joked before gesturing to the empty chair next to Nat. “You should join us for lunch.”

“Oh I don’t want to interrupt and I really don’t have too long anyway,” he politely declined “Nat, can I steal you for just a minute?”

She was quiet, looking to her dad for a second, but he gave her a reassuring smile and waved his hand, “Go ahead, Nattie. I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” she murmured, taking a drink of her water before she followed Chris through the busy commissary. Luckily, everyone else in there was too preoccupied to notice the brunette in front of her and they slipped out the doors without a second glance, but Nat paid it no mind as she fiddled anxiously until they stopped walking once they made it away from the busy entrance of the building.

He turned to her, frustratingly silent. Nat watched as his eyes moved from her to his feet, then finally she told him, “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Well I wanted to come by and apologize for not being able to get together this weekend because-”

She held up a hand and shook her head, her voice quiet as she – despite how she truly felt – said, “Chris, it’s really fine, you don’t have to explain. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me because I really wanted to see you. There was an issue with lighting in a scene but they only had the location until Monday so we had to do a reshoot this weekend which nobody was expecting and that’s why I wasn’t available. We were so slammed I didn’t even get a chance to call you,” he explained, pausing as he met her eyes and shrugged, a deep frown on his face. “I’m really really sorry, Nat.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” she assured him, feeling the last bit of tension she’d been holding deep in her body leave at his explanation – it’d been nothing more than a shitty last minute reshoot, it wasn’t him changing his mind. With a smirk and a slight shrug of her shoulders, she added, “Although I was starting to think that maybe everything on Friday was just because you can’t hold your liquor.”

Chris raised a single brow as a smirk appeared on his face as well, reminding her, “I believe we had this conversation before and I think we both know a Bostonian can handle plenty…”

“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” she shot back, relieved at the way they effortlessly slipped back into their banter.

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then,” he told her with a jut of his chin. “How long is your dad here for?”

“I’m dropping him at the airport on Saturday morning.”

“Oh,” he paused, nodding before he shrugged and – all too casually – added, “I’m leavin’ on Sunday for Europe to do some filming… I’m having a party on Saturday night though for a few friends so if you’re free, I’d love it if you came.”

Nat took a second to school her expression, feeling those flutters from Friday night again at his offer. “Well I feel it’s my duty to come and see you proven wrong,” she sarcastically replied.

“It really is,” he chuckled before nodding to himself. “So I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

She nodded as she watched a few squirrels on the large green space across from them, but then turned her head and told him, “I’m not sure you should keep going around saying things like that. Last time you did, you blew me off.”

“Very funny,” he rolled his eyes with a smirk that told her everything she needed to know. He shoved his hands in his pockets for a moment as he looked around, then sighed and said, “I hope you have a good time with your dad this week, Nat.”

“Thanks, I will,” she told him, touching his arm for a moment and getting his attention. “And thanks again for coming by today.”

He nodded with a tiny shrug, then said, “Of course… bye Nat.”

Nat stood there as she just watched the look on his handsome face, seeing that beautiful soft smile on his face before he reached out and rested a hand on her arm, spreading warmth throughout Nat’s body before he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. She could smell that musky cologne of his so well with his body being this close and it didn’t go unnoticed by her the way that he lingered his face next to her, waiting for a moment to read her body language but Nat didn’t want to wait any longer and turned her head to look up at him and lean in to kiss his lips in such a different way than the few days before. This wasn’t passionate and full of need like it was on Friday. This kiss was different. It was soft and gentle but somehow felt… intimate. As if they finally were being completely transparent about how they felt about one another, even if they didn’t need words to do it and suddenly Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

A/N: We can't wait for Thursday's chapter!!! As a reminder, next week we will NOT be posting In Living Color due to the holidays, but we do have something planned, so keep an eye out!

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