#has the same body as stalker. realised it a bit late but oh well. good to know for next time

[you-shiny-thing]

I'm here to spread my shy Stalker propaganda.

[the32ndbeat]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟛 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft twice’s tzuyu, loona’s haseul )

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual harassment, mature themes, mentions of drugs, smoking, extreme views, misogyny, yandere themes

a/n: unedited! it’s been forever since I updated this but also considering if I should turn this into a tbz series at my tbz writing blog so we’ll see how this goes.

taglist: I don’t have one yet and I’m seeing how this does since I’m thinking whether I should convert it into a tbz series. Please do lemme know if you guys want to see this continued!

disclaimer: everything written here is FICTIONAL and I am in no way saying that the mentioned characters act like that irl!

masterlist  

(inspired by netflix’s you and the book of the same name by caroline kepnes)

The first thing that registers in my mind is how fucking loud this place is. Seriously, what is it with college parties and their inherent need to blast music loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood within a five mile radius? Before I even step within the premises or even make it to the front yard, the whole fraternity house seemed to shake from the loudness of the bass-boosted music when viewed from a distance away. I even had to squint as I approach, the strings of fluorescent party lights draped all over the place glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look straight.

A few drunk college frat boys stumble past me, their hair sticky and messy with sweat and their breaths reeking of cheap alcohol. Their steps are wobbly and I can even see drool and remnants of vomit hanging at the corner of their mouths. My heart clenches with pure disgust and I grit my teeth as I watch them laugh out loud over nothing, their brains a pink, unintelligent mush in their skulls, probably rotted by endless drinking and fucking. All part of the college frat experience.

I wonder if they enjoy being a complete waste of space while wasting mummy and daddy’s money to put them through college.

I look away and ignore the growing irritation in me. This is the sort of party your friends wanted you to go with them to? I thought your friends were bad influences but scratch that, they’re fucking horrible. They taint you, taint your innocence and put you at risk around such dangerous men who do not deserve to be even a mile within your presence. As I walk closer, the house looks even more hideous up close.

It’s decorated in the worst way I’ve seen a house decorated. It’s as if someone threw a bunch of random fairy lights bought in the brightest, blinding neon colours that simply do not go together over a sloppy looking house and the front yard is littered with empty, red plastic cups and is that a discarded bra I see over there?

I tiptoe over the trash laying around on the grass and try to avoid the gyrating bodies of college students who clearly have no sense of rhythm. My skin feels grimy within just a few minutes of being here and I can’t wait to leave but there is no way I’m leaving when I know that you will be here. The thought of you being surrounded by such vermins makes me sick to the stomach and I want to get you out of here. The only place you should rightfully be, is at my place where there are no revolting men who only love to drink cheap alcohol, party till sunrise, get high off smoking a blunt, yell ‘turn up!’ every few minutes as if it’s muscle memory in their tiny, almost non-existent brains and do anything but be a productive member of society.

As I push through the double doors, the nauseating smell containing a mixture of intoxicating alcohol, smoke and cheap cologne almost knocks me backwards. My hand grips tighter to the wooden door and I force myself in. Inside, the house is dim but bright at the same time with disco and laser lights. A massive boombox and a pair of equally large loudspeakers sit at the corner of the room and some hip hop tune is being played while people dance and drink and smoke to their hearts’ delight. You’d never believe these kids were supposed to be the future.

Oh, how disappointed their parents must be.

A girl in skimpy shorts and a tube top looks at me with unadulterated want and beckoning in her eyes while staring at the varsity jacket I’m wearing, no doubt replaying fantasies of fucking a college athlete in her mind and trying to guess which sport I supposedly play. I gaze blankly at them before turning away and I can see her shift from the corner of my eye, obviously bothered by the lack of attention. It’s like I can almost see the gears whirring in her brain. Did she not show enough cleavage? Is more skin needed to get my attention? Sometimes people are so predictable and readable that it’s almost pathetic.

Other times, I might have lowered my standards and settled for a casual fuck with someone like that but not today. Today, I’m a man on a mission. A mission to look out for you.

My eyes scan the room but it’s too dim to see anything within four feet in any direction. The flashing lights threaten to overwhelm me along with the stink of the place and booming music and I can feel my annoyance evolving into anger. I repress the urge to slap the shit out of a guy in a red bandana who screams ‘turn up’ all of sudden, practically effectively bursting my eardrums.

I almost bump into a couple eating each other’s faces out when someone yells out at me.

“Hey, you!”

The music is so loud that I almost don’t hear it. I whip around and sure enough, it’s tube top girl making her way over to me. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Not only do I have to find and save you from this sleazy place and have to squeeze in with a crowd of sweaty, brainless college kids who know nothing but party in a tiny, dirty, smelly frat house but now I also have tube top girl hot on my heels?

The things I do for you, y/n and we haven’t even properly gotten to know each other yet.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Tube top girl smiles and up close, I can see that her mascara is smudged and her hair is slicked back with an unholy amount of gel into a tight little bun which only makes her face look wider and her forehead exposed with a sheen of sweat covering it. Her lipstick is reapplied and I know for a fact that she has done it to impress me. Her top is also inched a little lower, as if that makes her anymore appealing.

I smile in a dismissive way, in a way that showed that I cared, but not really.

“Hey,” I reply flippantly.

“Crazy party huh?” She grins, satisfied that she’s got my attention now. Women.

I let my eyes drift to her breasts and look back up at her expectant, puppy dog eyes that are so eager to please it’s actually embarrassing.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name? I’m Meg.”

“I’m Jaehyun.”

“You part of any sports team in school?” And just like that I know that tube top girl must have had fantasies of fucking a college athlete.

So predictable.

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team.” I say and her smile widens, a playfulness in her eyes as she leans her chest in closer in what was meant to be a sexy gesture.

“Oh, is that so? I’ve never really talked to a competitive swimmer before,” she replies in a sultry voice and I smirk.

“Well, here I am. Am I every bit of the guy you imagined a college swimmer to be?” I whisper in an equally sultry voice. Let her think she has me wrapped around her finger. It’s easier that way. Better for her to think I’m enthralled with her and her breasts than let her cling onto me the entire night.

“Mhm,” she says, “of course.”

I’m about to reply when something catches my eye. From the window, I see you and your friends stumbling and swaying down the sidewalk, away from the party. Internally, I feel my rage simmering again but not at anyone. At myself.

How was I so late that I didn’t manage to stop this from happening? How are you already drunk? How did this happen?

A million questions are racing through my mind and my vision almost blurs with white hot anger as I imagine a slimy frat guy placing his greasy hands on you while you sit there, drunk and uninhibited in that dress that seemed to accentuate your every single curve. You look simply gorgeous in that dress and I fucking hate to think that other guys in this whole house may have made a pass at you. Why was I so late? Would I have been just a little bit earlier if tube top Meg didn’t stop me? I should have left the moment she decided to strike up conversation. This is my karma for letting other temptations get in the way. I vow to myself that this will never happen again as I extricate myself away from Meg’s clutches (“Hey! Where are you going?” She calls out and I ignore her).

I shove people out of the way and do not care for their protests and yelps. Fuck them and fuck this entire shithole of a house. I scramble through the door and maintain my distance as I follow you and your friends down the pavement and past the buildings within the campus. I watch and cringe as you seem to crumple under the weight of your friends’ arm and quickly realise that you aren’t drunk. Your friends are. Stupidly drunk.

I feel my heart relax and my stomach unclench. Of course, you wouldn’t be. You are good. And smart. Too smart to get drunk in a place like that. You know what are the risks and you are above such parties. Your friends though, I couldn’t say the same. Which brings me back to why you need better friends but that’s besides the point. I can see a few guys hanging at the other side of the street who leer at the group of you, clearly getting their dick hard at the thought of a group of vulnerable girls roaming these empty streets at night.

It’s dangerous. But that’s what I’m here for. They see me next and they look away.

I will do what I can to protect you, y/n. Even if that means protecting your good for nothing friends in the process.

All of a sudden, I see you trip and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You fall forward and I take long strides over, my legs stretching out and rushing to help you. Before your knees can hit the rough ground, I have you in my arms, encircled around your waist as I hold you up. I have your other friend, Haseul upright with my other hand tugging at the collar of her jacket. Your friend Tzuyu is not so fortunate and falls flat but she barely notices it, smiling tipsily to herself instead.

You glance up at me with those large eyes and I could get lost in them right there and then. But as quickly as we have our moment, you move away and I see a hint of suspicion in your eyes. We separate and the moment you extract yourself from my arms, I already want you back. Your touch feels addictive already. What have you done to me?

“Thanks.” You say curtly and I admire the fact that you have boundaries, not like Meg. You are hard to get and that’s what makes you so appealing. You are to be earned and respected.

You help Tzuyu to her feet and as you turn to leave with your friends, I call out, “is there any way I can help?”

You regard me with caution and open your mouth to reject me but then suddenly, the tenseness in your eyes relax.

“Do I know you?”

You remember me. Halle-fucking-lujah! I want to wrap you in my arms again but I play it cool.

“I… don’t…?”

Your eyes grow wide and the recognition seeps in.

“Wait! You’re from that hardware store right? Jaehyun?”

I pretend to be surprised when I’m actually fucking overjoyed.

“Yeah, wait… You’re that girl with the rope right?”

You laugh and it’s the most melodious thing I’ve ever heard in forever.

“Yup, that’s me. Kind of mortified that’s how you remember me but sure,” you say and your eyes twinkle but then you continue with a more subdued tone, “what are you doing here?”

I pat my chest good-naturedly.

“Friend of mine is a student here. I just came over to visit and he gave me his varsity jacket so I could try feeling like a college student for once. Never been to college so… yeah. I thought I’d like to try it out for fun.” I reply and shoot you an awkward smile, the kind you do when you try to get someone to favour you and think of you as ‘adorable’.

It works and you smile gently.

“That’s pretty cool, you’ve got a good friend.”

And you haven’t, I think but don’t say.

I gesture towards you and your friends.

“Need any help?”

You look at your drunken friends and back at me and I sense you thinking. Finally, you decide that you do need my help and chuckle, “We live right at that block over there and I think I might die halfway there. I’m not fit enough to hold 2 people.”

That’s so like you. So compassionate over friends who clearly didn’t give a shit that you didn’t want to go to some god forsaken party, so caring over friends who get drunk and don’t take responsibility, so helpful to take care of friends who literally do not give a fuck about you. You are not beautiful on the outside but on the inside too and as I loop Tzuyu’s arm over my neck and hold her, I wish I was holding you instead.

We amble over to the front of your block and we part, you thank me and we say our goodbyes and it’s all too soon. I want to be with you for longer, I want us to talk and I want you to invite me to your room but reality is often much less exciting and more boring.

“I’ll see you!” You call out, smiling as I walk away and I wave back, my heart soaring.

Today is a good day, I think and as I round the corner to the next street, I slip the keycard out of my pocket and feel the hard plastic under my finger.

Wasn’t difficult honestly. Your friends should really learn to keep their valuables in safe places, not the back pocket of their jeans.

[buckybabybaby]

café d'amour

A/n: my entry to @firefly-in-darkness 's challenge. Thank you for letting me enter! I left it to the last minute once again, but! This time it's not late so... fingers crossed next time I'm early xxx

Proof read with a text-speech device.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 3537

Warnings: none! :]

Plot: Maybe covering a friends shift in a city park coffee kiosk won't be too bad if it means running into a certain super soldier.

coffee-shop sort of au, fluff and more fluff.

Masterlist

*****

The machine humming quietly in the corner of the tiny hut seems to be mocking you, a constant reminder of just how out of your depth you are. People who think working in a coffee shop, or in your case, a take-out kiosk, is easy, should try it for a day and see if their opinion changes. This is so far away from your usual job, safe and warm re-shelving books in the colleges library, but a promise is a promise, so you've just got to suck it up for the next few weeks and hope you don't mess anyone’s orders up too badly.

Peter is going to owe you big time after this.

When he'd asked you to cover for him in his small business, you had agreed without properly thinking about what time of year it is, and how cold the wind can be when you're stood still in it for hours on end. Two days in and your hands have aged about ten years from the combination of frequent washing and the icy air, and the layers of thermals you've got on under your uniform fleece and matching joggers are making you look a little rounder than you actually are, you couldn't care less though as long as you are warm. The water heater provides a little warmth, leaking through to your skin if you press up against it, but you've found the best way to escape the freezing gusts is to crouch down below the counter when the queues have diminished.

That's where you are now, half heartedly straightening the packets of treats, getting distracted by the many different types of cookies and brownies, and not keeping an eye out for potential customers.

“Hello? Is this self-serve or what?”

The voice startles you, so close without warning, almost like they crept up on you. Hopping up quickly, you hover your hands under the sanitiser and rub them together as you collect yourself and prepare your speech.

“Hello! Sorry! Hello,” You start again, marginally calmer, “Welcome to-”

That's as far as you get, not even able to ask what they 'fancy today?' before the customer interrupts.

“Just a coffee. Black. No fancy milks or syrups or anything, no cakes or anything extra. Just coffee, okay?”

Finally looking up from your now dry hands, you take in the man who has placed such a blunt order. He's attractive enough, the little you can see underneath his hat, something about him familiar to you, his tone definitely one you've got used to over the past day or so, though he's not anywhere close to the rudest person you've served.

You smile pleasantly, in the disarming way you've learnt. “Okay, just coffee, got it. And a name for the cup?”

He looks around at the lack of other customers. “Is that necessary?”

Laughing self-consciously, you say, “Probably. If it gets busy I'd hate for it to get mixed up. I'm new.”

“Ah.” He tuts. “James.”

“James, cool. That'll be a few minutes.”

As you grab a pen to write his name on the sleeve of a cup, he shuffles off to the side, adjusting his hat as he does, and when his coat slips a bit down his left arm your mind goes blank. He's not paying attention to you so your staring goes unnoticed as you realise why you thought he was familiar earlier, wondering how it didn't click when he said his name, but then again wrapped up in his scarf and gloves it's not surprising. You're guessing he doesn't want to be recognised right now, hence the use of his real, less known name, so before he can catch your mild freak-out you look away and messily scribble on the side of his cup.

Even a simple order can be a struggle for you, and now, slightly flustered from serving the Winter Soldier, you make sure to double check the measurements before you start, concentrating hard to make the greatest cup of coffee he's ever had. There's a reason this kiosk has a reputation for the best hot drinks in the park and you aren't about to ruin it by messing up the order of Captain America's best friend.

Breathing a sigh of relief as you place the lid on top of the perfectly brewed coffee, you tap it against the table to get his attention. “Here you go. The machines ready.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he swipes his card to pay then grabs the cup off the counter, murmurs something that could have been a 'thanks' and takes off along the dim path leading him deeper into the park.

“Well.” Huffing as you lean against the glass front of the booth, you watch his retreating form with a small frown. He wasn't anything like you thought he might. The media has built him up to be some sort of tragic figure, one to be feared and pitied in equal measure, but all you saw was yet another city dweller on a quest for caffeine.

At least now you have a story to tell from your time working in the coffee kiosk, aside from the ones about frozen fingers and half-spilt drinks.

*****

The next day he's back, around the same time in the afternoon, as the daylight is dying and the street lights are flickering into life, about an hour before closing. You're finishing up a complicated order for a group of friends when you notice him standing away from the small crowd, waiting for them to leave before he approaches.

“I want a coffee like yesterday,” He says, adding as though an after thought, “Please.”

“One black coffee?” You confirm.

He nods, watching closely as you locate the pen to write on his cup. Before you can even open the cap, he's butting in. “Why don't you have a name tag?”

You freeze, confused. Meeting his eye, you flush under the intense way he's staring you down. “Why don't I-?”

“You see, I have a very good memory, despite my age. I distinctly remember telling you my name is James, so imagine my surprise seeing my nickname written on my cup when I looked properly.”

His expression is not giving away any clues on how he feels about this invasion of privacy. Heart racing, you search for the right words to apologise, and convince him you're not some crazy stalker.

There's no chance to speak as he's continuing. “So I thought I'd come back today and find out your name, then we'd be even. But you don't have a badge on. Why not?”

“I'm so sorry,” You breathe, unsure what more you can say. “I swear I'm not a weirdo, I just recognised you yesterday and I must have written the wrong name by accident.” A beat of silence, then you propose a way to make it right, “How about free coffee for life?”

He laughs, a glorious sound in the crisp air, and your shoulders relax at the genuinely happy noise. “Aren't you new? Are you allowed to make promises like that?”

Wincing, you admit, “Probably not. But when I explain it to Peter I'm sure he'll understand.”

“Peter?”

You start working on his drink as you talk. “He owns this place. And normally works this shift, I'm only covering whilst he's away.”

“Oh.” The hissing of steam drowns out his next sentence, you only catch the last half, “-here how long?”

“Couple of weeks, maybe? Not too long hopefully. You'll have a professional barista back soon, don't worry.”

“I think you're doing fine.”

The words are spoken so softly, such a contrast from how you thought this conversation would end, and the shock has you fumbling with the finished cup of coffee, nearly spilling the scolding liquid all over your fingers.

“Careful.”

Taking the cup from you, his hand lingers against yours for a moment too long and you force yourself to stand up straighter and away from his touch. The last thing you want is to become a horrible cliché, falling for a customer after a few sweet lines.

He grabs a few napkins to wipe the cup dry, then looks expectantly at the card machine.

“I meant it, free for life,” You say, determined.

Shaking his head, he roots around in his pockets, pulling out a couple of notes and sliding them across the counter towards you. “Old fashioned money it is then. I didn't mean to come across as angry earlier, or yesterday, thinking about it. Sorry about the whole,” He waves his hand around vaguely, “Murderous vibe I give off, or whatever Sam calls it.”

He rolls his eyes fondly when talking about his team mate, and you giggle as you reassure him. “You didn't look murderous, just a bit like you might sue me.”

“Ugh.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not really my style.”

Your bank balance is thankful. “And to answer your question, I'm Y/N.”

Blowing on to the top of his drink, he takes several steps back, all whilst keeping eye contact. “Well then Y/N, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll be here.”

With that, Bucky waves goodbye with a wide smile, disappearing into the dusk as you wonder just how much trouble he's going to be.

*****

The kind of trouble you don't mind, you find out when you run in to him again the next day, a lot earlier than you imagined. In an attempt to keep yourself warm for the long hours stood in the open, with only a waist high counter between you and the frozen air, you've taken to walking around the park before you are due to start, so the heat generated by the exercise keeps you warm for at least a proportion of your shift.

The sunshine is deceptive this afternoon, doing nothing to raise the temperature as you wander around the edge of the lake. Lost in thought, a sudden shout from behind makes you jump.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up.”

Turning around, you struggle to place the voice as you scan the few people also on this side of the park. None of them are even looking in your direction, let alone trying to draw your attention, and you're about to continue on your way thinking you must have misheard when a body nearly crashes into yours. This is not an image you ever thought you would see; the Winter Soldier panting to catch his breath after jogging up to you, all because you're on first name terms and not because you've suddenly turned to a life of crime.

“Bucky?”

At your bemused tone, his face drops. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, I can go, I just thought-”

“No! No, it's okay. I don't mind a bit of company.”

You share a smile, and he lets you take the lead back along the small track, winding its way between the trees and the water.

He breaks the silence a few meters along. “So, what do you normally do?”

“Me? Err,” You pause, trying to think of how to make yourself sound interesting to someone who spends his life side by side with superheroes and literal gods. Sighing in defeat as you conclude you're always going to be boring in comparison, you mumble, “I work in the library where I'm also a student.”

Bucky doesn't appear to think you're dull. “That's cool!” He says, like he means it. “I miss being in school.”

“So did I, so when I got the chance I went back. I'm a bit older than most of the students-”

He snorts. “I know how that feels.”

“But I'm determined to get my degree this time.”

“I'm sure you will.” He grins at you and you're inexplicably filled with hope that he's right. “And after? Do you know what you want to do once you've graduated?”

You shake your head. “Right now all I'm focused on is passing exams and submitting essays on time. I'll think about the future when it's closer.”

“That's fair. Nothing wrong with waiting to figure things out.” More reassurance from this relative stranger. You didn't know how much you needed it until just now.

“Most people say I need a ten year plan or something.”

“Most people are wrong. But,” He pauses, and you hold your breath as you anticipate his words. “Can I suggest if you go into business, maybe don't start off by offering life time free supplies at the drop of a hat?”

Two minutes in to this 'friendship' and he's already teasing you? What is going on? Turning your face away so he can't see your stupid grin at this turn of events, you really would believe this is some sort of perfect daydream if it wasn't for the all too real frozen mist clinging to your coat and the ends of your hair.

“I'll try to remember that, thanks.”

Dodging a puddle in the middle of the path, you're trying to come up with a witty retort to impress him when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“If you need to get that-”

“Oh, no. It's only my alarm to remind me not to wander too far from work before I need to start.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll walk you back, then.”

Not wanting to leave his side quite yet, you let him accompany you back through the trees, but you refuse his offer to carry you across a muddy part of the path where the stream has burst it's banks. Flushing as he laughs at your careful steps, you manage to get across without completely ruining your shoes, informing him you've learnt the hard way that these trails aren't exactly 'white trainer friendly' as the kiosk looms into view.

Relieving the worker from the morning shift, you rearrange the counter back to the way you like it before any customers turn up, watching Bucky hovering nearby until you give him a questioning look.

He clears his throat. “If I came this way the same time tomorrow, would I bump into you then?”

The hopeful look he gives you would be enough for you that, even if this walk wasn't part of your daily routine already, you would have made it so in order to see his again.

“Uh huh. Are you planning too?”

“Whenever I come with Sam, we always end up getting recognised with the way he can't keep his voice down. It's nice not having that sort of attention. So if you don't mind?”

“I don't mind.” A patron approaches and reluctantly you turn away, sending a quiet promise to your new friend. “See you tomorrow, Bucky.”

*****

The days past so fast now they're full of work, both at the kiosk and in the library, trying to study, and, most importantly, walking with Bucky every afternoon. Some days the two of you talk the whole way, conversation flowing so easily you're amazed at how honest you are, like you've never been with anyone before, and other days you walk together in relative quiet, completely comfortable in each others presence.

Falling for him is the quickest and easiest thing you've ever done. Dealing with your feelings, however, might be somewhat harder.

With the lighter evenings comes the message that Peter is finally on his way home and soon you'll be free of your second job. It feels like a bolt from the blue, to be reminded that this is only temporary and in not too long you will no longer have an excuse to see Bucky.

You mention it to him a week before your last shift.

“Isn't that good?”

“I guess.” Your reply is short and unenthusiastic, changing the subject quickly to hide how heartbroken you are.

Time moves too fast, and before you know it you're greeting him on that last day, taken aback as he presents you with a small cardboard box, which when you take it, is much heavier than it looks. “Natasha gave it to me for you. Apparently it's really good for your hands. I thought you could try it? Now you won't have to wash them constantly?”

Scanning the sides reveals that it contains a moisturiser, from some luxury brand you've never even thought to try, too far out of your price range. “Oh, this is too much, I can't take-”

“Yes you can.”

“Let me give you something-”

Gently tugging your hand back out of your bag, he stops you from grabbing your purse by enclosing his gloved fingers around yours. When he doesn't let go, instead pulling you along and down towards your now usual route, you let him, gaping at the back of his head before coming to your senses and squeezing his hand in a kind of thanks.

“This is a very kind present.”

He shrugs it off. “It's nothing. When it's your birthday or something, then I'll get you a proper present. Presents, plural,” He emphasises as your eyes widen at the thought. “Nah, this is just one of the hundreds of products Natasha gets sent in the vain hope she'll provide the companies with some free advertising. Better you have it than it go to waste.”

It still feels like a gift to you. “Well then, thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always.” The implication of that one word would have been entirely missed if it wasn't for the panicked look on Bucky's face as he corrects himself. “I... I mean, of course.”

Stopping in the middle of the path, your joined hands cause him to halt too and the atmosphere grows tense as you stare at each other, unsure where to start. The minutes haven't stopped ticking down until you're due on your last shift, and with the implication that comes with hanging over you like a dark cloud, now seems just as good a time as any to bring it up.

You hesitantly begin. “Bucky, can I say something?”

Mutely, he gestures for you to proceed.

“Right, so you know today's my last day at the kiosk, at least until Peter goes away again, so, that means I won't have a reason to walk around here any more. Or I won't, unless...”

“Unless?”

“Unless I do. Unless you still want to come around the park with me, even if it's for no more reason than simply going for a walk?”

“I'd love that.”

The relief that flows though you as he agrees is almost physical, gripping onto his hand in yours just a little tighter.

Feeling brave, you dare to push your luck. “And if it was more than just a walk?”

It takes a moment, but then you see the realisation dawning on his face, a slow smirk appearing as he takes a step into your space. “More?”

You know he knows what you mean, that he's playing with you. That doesn't soothe your doubts though, hoping beyond hope that you're not misinterpreting his teasing.

“Yeah. More.”

Letting go of your hand in order to bring one arm around your waist and pull you closer, your own come to rest against his lapels as he dips his head down.

“I think I'd like more,” He whispers.

You swallow as his gaze slips to your mouth, sinking in his embrace as his lips brush against yours, so soft and brief it barely registers,

Moving back to put a bit of room between the two of you, his thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth as you pout sadly.

“You can have another one once you've finished tonight. Maybe. Or maybe you'll have to wait until after our date tomorrow.”

You frown. “Tomorrow?”

“Yep. If you're free?”

“Always.” Repeating his earlier phrase with a sly smile, you turn around to continue along the track, leaving him speechless for a second before he rushes to fall into step.

His arm slides through yours. “So, is it okay to wait for you tonight?”

“You've just kissed me and you're still asking that?”

“I'm just checking.” When you don't answer he presses, “Is it? I don't want to impose.”

'Too late for my heart', you think but don't say, not wanting to scare him off, instead nodding in reply and leaning into his side as you wind your way through the woodland path. The fear you had felt this morning at potentially having to say goodbye to Bucky feels like a distant memory, and as you watch the sunlight dance across his hair you realise you could never have let today be the last. You started this job reluctantly and now, instead of Peter owing you for the favour, it seems you owe him.

Peter doesn't needs to know just yet, you decide.

That usually particularly muddy part of the path has become even muddier after the overnight rain, and this time you allow him to pick you up in his arms and carry you across, feeling its finally appropriate now your relationship has changed. Setting you down on the other side, he presses a kiss to your forehead almost absent-mindedly, and your tummy does a flip as you take a second or two to admire his profile.

You sigh happily. So much for not becoming a cliché.

*****

Thank you for reading!! Masterlist

[citydreamgrls]

a simple favour - part three

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 3,721

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

Read Part four here

Ron and George found Fred with his head in his hands, sitting by the fire.

“What have you done?” His younger brother asked, anger already in his voice.

What had he done? He’d pushed her so far away, in fear of losing himself to her, that he never even stopped to realise what it could be doing to her. Those awkward smiles, uncomfortable glances, that she gave him wasn’t because he was being too close but because he would back off.

He hated her for making him feel bad, he wanted her gone. It would’ve been the easier option if they had never met at all. He was sabotaging himself from the start. Fred had told himself, the more distance between him and y/n the less broken he would feel.

Yet here he was, worrying for her and hoping she wasn’t still angry at him. He wanted her to be okay, and he hated the idea that she could blame him for her heartbreak. It was evident in her eyes, he could see it now, she hated that he would let go of her hands. When he too, never wanted to lose that touch.

“What is it Fred?” George asked, reminding him that they were still there awaiting an answer.

“She’s a bitch.” He spat out, too quickly to stop himself. Ron went for him, fists flying with a cry of ‘you prick!’ repeated over and over as the other twin held him back.

Fred didn’t care anymore, she was already mad at him. He wasn’t going to change that, so he’d just have to play into it even more. He hated her, he hated that he loved her, and he hated that he wanted her in his arms right this second.

-

“Hagrid… hagrid.” I whisper-shouted, knocking gently on his hut. A loud groan from inside sounded, then a few bangs, before he threw the door open.

“What the bleedin’ hell you doin’ here y/n, it’s late.”

“Can I come in?” I begged, he nodded, knowing it must be something important or else I would have waited until morning.

He made me a cup of tea, and sat down across the table, watching me sip slowly.

“I’ve seen you and Fred are a thing,” He laughed.

“It’s a bit complicated…” “Is he the one giving you grief?”

“Oh there’s more than one,” I laughed, sighing.

“I can feed all of them to buckbeak if need be?” He chuckled, throwing Fang another slab of meat to chew on. “You can stay here as long as you need darling, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, going to take another sip but getting halting as I heard voices in the distance.

I recognised it as Harry and Hermione, moving to duck away from the window.

“What’s wrong?” Hagrid asked, noticing the pair walking down the path.

“I don’t want to talk with them right now, can you not tell them I’m here?”

“They’ll wanna come in, you’ll have to sneak out the back to avoid them.” I nodded and ran to the back door, covered by the kitchen’s cabinets while their urgent knocks sounded on the door. The big man answered as normal, feigning surprise at their late visit and sparking up some random conversation as to distract them slightly.

My trembling hands opened the back door slowly, all the while watching to see if they would come into view. I bumped into a body, stood at the back door. Hermione raised her eyebrows at me, amused, and crossed her arms.

“Let’s go.” She smiled and took my hand.

She didn’t make me talk to any of the others, just led me silently back to our dorm and locked the door behind us.

“What’s gone on, Ron went ballistic on Fred. Did he do something?” She was genuinely concerned, sitting me down and putting a gentle arm around my shoulder.

Hermione was the only person who held me close, and meant well while she was doing it. I broke down, bursting into a stream of tears and crumbling into a ball. She hushed me, resting a hand on my back and letting me catch my breath before making me talk.

“I’ve fucked things up with Fred,”

“What happened?”

“God, he drives me mad!”

“Y/n concentrate,” Her tone was stern, but she just wanted to understand. I nodded through the tears, moving my hair from out of my face.

“Cormac found me by the lake… and f-followed me back, asking all these h-horrible things about me and Fred,” I struggled to talk normally, sniffling between every other word.

“Oh y/n,” The girl said sympathetically, pulling me into her side even more.

“Fred saw him doing it, so he made him leave… a-and I just lost it with him. I w-went mental f-for no reason.” I cried harder. Thinking about how much he deserved it, but how none of it made me feel any better. “I feel like shit for it.. B-but I can’t apologise.”

“He doesn’t deserve an apology y/n, you needed to yell at him so you did. It’s much better than hiding things.”

“He’s such a dick,” I hiccuped against her, making her giggle. “I think I like him,”

“What?”

I think she must have been genuinely surprised, after hearing about our argument and how much he presumably hated me. Hermione assumed I would want nothing to do with the stupid redhead.

“But I thought you-” “I can’t explain it, I'm sorry!” I sobbed, “I hate him, I hate how ignorant he is. How he has no regard for my feelings, and I hate that there’s no goddam emotion inside him. But when he likes me, when people are around, it feels so real. All I can think about is whether that’s something, that there’s a small part of him that wants me too.”

Hermione just hugged me more, letting me spill out my feelings one after the other like an unrelenting storm.

“I’m sorry it’s like this.” “I hate him Hermione, I hate him so much.” I cried out.

-

On the other side of the door, Fred’s hand hovered in a fist, ready to knock. He had come to apologise, to explain why he’d been acting so off and maybe confess to her the reasons he avoided her so often. But then he heard the words come from her voice, the same words he’d been begging to hear from her.

I hate him

It was supposed to make things easier for him, he was meant to want this from her. Yet his heart ached more than ever before. If that was how she felt, he had no choice now but to go along with it. There was no changing y/n’s mind, regardless of the love he had in his heart for her.

So he turned and left, silently, taking each stone step one at a time as not to alarm the girls inside the dorm. Ron was sporting a black eye, George not having done a very good job of holding him back. He scowled at Fred, ashamed that his brother couldn’t even do the decent thing and apologise to her.

He ignored these looks and left, hearing two first years whisper about his and y/n’s argument on the way past their dorm. There weren’t any details, just that it had happened. Which meant things needed to carry on as normal.

-

All of us gathered into Harry’s dorm room the next day, Fred hunched by the door with a sour look on his face. It was like getting a moody toddler to come to a play-date he didn’t want to go on. I’d scoffed when he came in, earning a glare to remind me of how awful he could be.

“Cormac isn’t going to leave her alone any time soon, so I’m sorry you two but this is gonna carry on for a while longer.” Hermione explained, treating us like squabbling siblings. At the end of the day, we were the ones to decide whether it would go on or not. But I knew that Mclaggen would become the bigger issue if Fred wasn’t around, and he must have known it too because there were no refusals. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders and Fred just nodded in silence. His eyes were trained to the floor, not wanting to look my way.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ron whispered to me, making his brother look up.

“Yes they do,” Hermione huffed, knowing she’d make the boy fully understand.

“It isn’t fair, he’s acting like a royal cock!” He pointed to Fred, accusingly.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at my friend’s words.

“You haven’t exactly been pleasant.” Fred spat back at me, finally his eyes lifting from the floor and burning into my own.

“At least I’m better than you,” I defended, scoffing at him.

Harry stopped us both, reminding everyone that this wasn’t going to work if we kept fighting. But Fred and I were too far gone.

-

The bitterness continued between us for days, any second away from people’s eyes and we were right back at each other's throats. Even Ron was getting bored of their unrelenting arguments, often being the one to intervene when we got out of hand.

I quickly found out how easy it was to wind Fred up, and in doing so I didn’t feel as bad about his rejection. Pissing him off made me forget what feelings I’d had, and seeing him annoyed was a joy to me now.

“You’re being a real bitch today,” He had whispered to me over dinner one day, when I refused to hold his hand. Some people had seen me slide mine away as he’d reached out, and he hated that. It made him look needy, and that set him off.

“I’m only copying you darling,” I smiled innocently, aware of the constant eyes on us. He took a deep breath, trying so hard not to storm off then and there.

Rumours had spread of our initial spat in the common room, many first years having heard me shout at him, and since then we’d needed to up our game in order to make people think everything was fine between us.

“Leave me alone,” I would hiss when he sat with me in the library.

“You know I can’t,” He’d huffed, sliding a book away and throwing another one my way. I just dodged it hitting my head as he didn’t bother to look while chucking them around.

“Admit it,” I smirked when he sat back down beside me, intent on ignoring my looks. “You love spending time with me.”

His face had turned, closer than I’d realised we were, and he was blank as he stared back at me. It was like he was stuck there, watching me.

“You’re freaking me out,” I laughed, backing off and leaning back in my chair with a smirk.

-

Fred faced her, too close for comfort, and mulled over what she’d said. He knew she was joking but it was a bodily reaction. He did love spending time with her, even if everytime they were alone it was full of insults and bickering, it was worth it.

It was another side of her that he’d never experienced, but when she was mad at him or revelling in teasing him, y/n became hotter than ever before. Those glaring eyes being the best thing he’d ever experienced. Now that they argued he wasn’t scared to admit that to himself.

She’d leant back, mumbling something about him being ‘freaky’ and he returned to his book, the words irrelevant as he stared at the page thoughtlessly. He still hated her, despised her even, but it was a new feeling. He wanted her more now, which was annoying, but he couldn’t resist her.

Her hair had gotten lighter now that the sun shone outside, and she was wearing it up a lot more, showing off her features like she was a statue. He would put her in an art gallery, he thought about that a lot.

Her side profile was his favourite, because she couldn’t notice him stare then, but also because it showed off everything perfectly. The angle of her nose, the way her lips protruded out when she concentrated, her eyes flickering over a page rapidly.

Yes, he hated her more than anyone else he’d ever met, except maybe Cormac, but it was only because he loved every single stupid thing about her. It was an excruciating conflict.

-

“You really think he’s cute?” I screeched at Hermione as we painted each other’s nails, my hand was in hers as she shakily held the small brush. She’d briefly mentioned how Oliver Wood had come up to talk to her after the quidditch match the other night.

“He’s okay,” She laughed, blowing the varnish dry. “I think he was flirting with me,”

“Oh my goodness Mione, he’s an older boy.” I teased her.

“Stop it, you can’t laugh at me when you go on and on about Lee Jordan.”

“I do not!”

“Oh isn’t he sweet mione, look he’s smiling!” Footsteps sounded on the stairs leading to our room, but Hermione was too busy doing her impression to hear it. Fred stood in the doorway as she carried on, frowning at her. “God! Mione, do you think Lee’s good in bed.”

She laughed even harder after seeing the boy watch her. He seemed to have caught onto what she’d been doing and rolled his eyes.

“Ron said he’s heading to do the charms essay,” He grunted, watching her gasp and jump up.

“Oh god I forgot, I’ll be back later y/n sorry.” I just smiled, watching her hurry to collect her books and run off.

Fred stayed in the doorway.

“Are you his little messenger now?” I mocked him with a baby-like voice.

“Shut the fuck up,” “Oh no of course, you’re way too dumb for a job like that.”

“Do you really think Lee would ever like you?” He tried to stab at me, crossing his arms.

“So you’ve resorted to eavesdropping now?”

“You’re not even good enough for him.” He ignored me.

“Are you getting jealous?” I laughed. “Scared of losing your boyfriend, or worse… your fake girlfriend.”

His eyes were dark and looming. But it didn’t last long as Fred got bored of the teasing and left without a single word. I felt as though I’d won, hearing his footsteps go away again as I laid back on my bed with a sigh of relief.

-

The next day, there was yet another quidditch match which Hermione begged me to go to with her. I agreed, forgetting that I would have to cheer on Fred as he flew around. I almost puked on the spot when he blew a kiss my way. Hermione laughed her head off about it, starting to find our rivalry hilarious.

It luckily didn’t last forever, Harry being the one to end it with the snitch clutched between his fingers. I thanked god, as it was freezing cold up in the stands, and headed down to the pitch with Mione to be with the other Gryffindors celebrating the win.

Lee waved at me across the crowd, coming over to tell me a message for Fred. I smiled, nodding and not listening to a single word he said, I was never going to pass it on. But I could see Fred in the distance watching the two of us talk. He was furious, fists clenched, but I just smirked over at him while Lee wasn’t watching. I shivered, having forgotten my coat.

“Oh here, have this.” The boy in front of me took off his own and wrapped it round my shoulders kindly. “I’m heading inside now anyway, just leave it with Fred.” I thanked him as he left, heading over to Fred with a very smug smile on my face.

“Proud?” he asked me, deadpan.

“Of you? Always!” I faked, giving him a hug and leaning into his ear. “Still think I’m not good enough?”

-

Fred had wanted to punch the boy on the spot, and he would have done so if there weren’t so many people around. It gave her even more confidence now, to act as though she was the one controlling things, which made him boil up by the second.

Later that night, when no one could find y/n or Lee, Fred decided to search alone for them. If he could find them together, he could finally have a good enough reason to be angry at her. But the fear of finding them with his hands all over her made the boy feel sick.

-

“Y/n?” She had hoped no one would find her here again, Harry’s invisibility cloak folded beside her in case she needed to hide from Cormac again. But it was Lee, standing at the top of the hill calling down to her. She walked up to him, confused as to why he was here.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.” I grinned at him. “Thank you for lending me your coat earlier, I left it with George.”

“Oh right,” He seemed confused.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just - are things with you and Fred okay? He doesn’t mention you much, I was actually kind of surprised when you two got together.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know, he was useless with girls-” I laughed, it just slipped out before I could hold it. “Then he just ends up with you out of nowhere.”

“Uh yeah, I guess so but he just had a bit of courage.” I lied.

“I’d had my suspicions about him, I’d never thought he would ever end up asking you though. Thought he’d keep it hidden like all of his other crushes.”

Fred had a crush on me beforehand. None of it made sense, how could he be this riled up over everything I did if he used to crush on me. Before I had a chance to think over it at all, another voice sounded, coming down the track towards Lee and I.

“Y/n” Speak of the devil, Fred had venom on his tongue as he spat out my name. “Where have you been, I’ve been looking.”

“I’ve been here,” I smiled innocently, but he didn’t reciprocate, unbothered by his anger in Lee’s presence.

“Well I need to talk to you,”

“Okay I’ll come in later.” I liked seeing his face change as I pushed his buttons. Lee was growing more and more uncomfortable as Fred became more and more furious at me.

“No. Now.”

“I’m gonna go back,” The third wheel spoke quietly, excusing himself to walk quickly off.

“Now look what you’ve done,” I teased, turning and heading back down to the lake.

“Are you enjoying this?” He shouted after me.

“Very much so,” I laughed, making him grunt and follow.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“And you’ve always hated me, so what difference does it make?” I whipped round, the water closer behind me now.

“I have my reasons,” He scoffed, managing the fury a little better now as I stared at him.

“Good for you.” I spun round, eyes on the moonlit water as it rippled gently.

“I don’t want Lee,” I admitted in the dark, not daring to look at him as he came to my side. “He’s too nice.”

“Of course he’s too nice for you.”

“Stop it.”

“Why, don’t you like when I tease you for once?” He huffed.

“Just shut up, I’m sick of the sound of your voice.”

“You’re sick of me?” He seemed genuinely mad at this, his breath faster as he started ranting. “I am so sick of you, it’s unbearable. I’m bored of spending every single day acting all lovey-dovey just so you don’t get harassed. I wish I didn’t have to look at you, honestly, you’re stupid fucking face.” He pushed me slightly, making me stumble back and stare at him. “Oh god everything about you is just disgustingly perfect, don’t you realise!” He shouted out, like I was deaf. “I can’t stand being around you, because all I want to do is fucking kiss you and keep you away from any guy who dares look at you. Then here you are, sneaking around with my friend. God, you get everything you want like it’s easy and I’m here doing all I can to convince myself that I actually hate you.” There was a silence as I took in what he’d said.

“You’re a slut.” He spat. I smacked him across the face, a sharp slap that echoed in the cold air. His face flew to the side, a small scratch appearing on his reddened cheek where my ring had caught him. He looked up at me, a look of horror fading as he looked down at my lips desperately. “Kiss me,”

I grabbed his face roughly, his hands grabbing me tight as if I’d try to run away. But I wouldn’t dare, not after feeling his lips. They were perfect, and intoxicating and I couldn’t get enough of them as much as he kissed me back like his life depended on it. I ran my fingers through his hair, moaning at the sounds it created from him. He spoke quickly, not wanting to pull away for a single second.

“What’s wrong with us,” He’d gasped, hands now roaming across my body. I pulled back, making him frown at me with confusion.

“I love you.” I told him, the words coming out like I was under a spell. “I’m sorry for acting like a bit-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” He grinned, grabbing my face and kissing me even harder than before. “You’re perfect, even when you hate my guts.” I chuckled, feeling vulnerable in his hold but loving it all at the same time. “I’m sorry that I hid the truth.”

“Shut up, and kiss me.”

He laughed at my urgency, picking me up and making me squeal, my lips still interlocked with his own. I moaned still, loving the feeling of having his body pressed right up against me, and I could tell that we both needed more. Fred pushed himself against me and I gasped.

“The boathouse.” I begged and he nodded.

[dreamii-yume]

so for the Twisted Wonderland yandere thing on AO3 how about Leona with a smoll and pure darling who has lately been clinging to him because she has felt like she has been being watched recently not knowing who was doing the watching

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Oh no! Darling has been feeling like someone’s following and watching her lately! So, in the fear of getting pursued anytime soon, she ended up relying on Leona’s help, not realising the real culprit this whole time.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

♥︎ Warnings ♥︎ Yandere | Non-Con | Stalking | Dark Themes | Mentions of Pregnancy

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

A shiver went up your spine and you quickly turned around.

There was no one. As always.

It had been like this for the past few days, you would feel eyes striking holes into you but when you would look, nothing was there. You might’ve thought someone was playing a prank on you, like someone could have drank a potion of invisibility to spook you. That wasn’t a likely scenario but it sure was possible, there are a few students who holds quite the distaste for you, after all. But this has been going on for days, there was no way someone would be this dedicated to pull a prank this much, unless you’ve done something really bad to that person. However, thinking hard about it, you’ve never recalled anything of such.

Still, this wasn’t a very funny prank, that’s for sure.

Thankfully, you don’t feel it everywhere, in such places like your classroom. It gives you some sort of relief for once, because it means that the culprit wasn’t in the same room as you, or at least doesn’t seem to be like one of your classmates. But the moment you stepped out of the room, in the hallway, in the cafeteria, in places full of people, that’s when it will strike back up again. It feels dangerous that you honestly feel like someone is going to assassinate you once when they got the chance. You thought being with other people would give you some sort of protection against the paranoia, but it didn’t.

In fact, it felt even more hostile, almost like they were bursting with bloodlust, like it was telling you to get away from your friends. You talked to Ace, Deuce, and Grim about it once but none of them seemed to feel watched as much as you do. This made you think that perhaps, you were overreacting? I mean, there was no way that someone would be this interested in you that you could practically feel them crawling up your skin? You told that to yourself one day, until you came to the terrifying realization that your friends might not have sensed it because it was just focus on you.

Currently, walking home alone does not make it any better at all. There were no students left at this time and the sun had already set, the lamp posts were the only ones to give you light on your way. If someone were really out to get you, there was no more perfect opportunity than this and that’s what makes it more terrifying. Gulping down your nervousness, you tried ignoring that unknown presence and walked faster, the Ramshackle dorm was just few meters away so it was fine. You could make it if you ignore everything else, ignore the footsteps that was going faster as you quickened your pace.

Until someone reached out and pat your shoulder.

You yelped, not being able to handle the pressure any longer and crouched down in a silly way to protect yourself. Your body trembled and you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, you were not ready to die tonight.

“Hey, what’s up with you?”

You opened your eyes at the familiar voice and turned around to see the Dorm Head of Savanaclaw, Leona Kingscholar. “...Leona-san...?” You called out, as if you weren’t sure if he was real or not.

Seeing how teary-eyed you look, Leona raised an eyebrow. “It’s unusual for you to go home this late and alone, what happen to that little cat herbivore?” He asked, putting a hand on his hips.

You sniffed and slowly stood up, Leona took noticed on how much your legs were trembling. “G-Grim was...held up in Crewel-sensei’s lectures along with Ace and Deuce...” You answered, looking down.

Leona hummed, but it doesn’t seem like he gave a single damn about what you said at all. It was unusual seeing him outside of his dorm this late too and still on his school uniform, you thought. Usually he’d be sleeping somewhere peaceful, where Ruggie or Jack wouldn’t find him. Did he take a liking to a spot somewhere around here?

Then, Leona turned to you. “So, the hell’s got you on your nerves? You pissed someone off or something?” He asked as a joke.

You only bit your lip and looked up to him with a pleading look in which Leona’s eyes sparked in curiosity. This look was enough for him to know that you did not take his words as a mere joke, but possibly a serious fact. Without thinking, you reached out your hands and grabbed the hem of his vest, gently pulling on it. “P-Please...Help me...” You plead with tears in your eyes, swallowing up the fact that you were so desperate to save yourself. “Someone’s...Out there.”

Leona look down at you for a while, you couldn’t really place a finger on what kind of expression he was making. But soon, he gave out a smirk so smug that you feel like he was mocking you. “I see.” He said as he shrugged and pat your head quite roughly, ruining your hair. “It’s troublesome but that look on your face is a sight to see.”

You didn’t really know whether to take that as a compliment or not. You chose to look at it at the bright side, after all, he didn’t exactly say no, did he? He pats your back and began walking towards your dorm. “Come on, I’m taking you home.” He said with a small yawn but without any other complaint.

You blinked, surprised on how he took your request so well. You were almost sure that he would refuse and just leave you right then and there, saying how you should take care of your own problem. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as anyone thought him to be? With that, you smiled, appreciating his help and ran towards his side. You unconsciously grasped the end of his vest once again out of nervous reaction, but Leona didn’t seem to mind.

There was nothing burning holes into your soul anymore. You missed this feeling, you felt safe.

For now.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“Look at this, Leona-san! I got a 90 for the first time on Crewel-sensei’s test!” You beamed down at Leona, showing your test paper at him, who was nonchalantly laying on your lap. Though, you feel kind of self-conscious as your body was a lot smaller compared to him, making you think that he might not be as comfortable laying on your lap like this. But he wasn’t complaining so you took the chance. You two sat on a shaded bench just somewhere in the school, it was lunch break and you thought how nice the day was. “I guess staying up that late to study was worth it, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah...” Leona said with his eyes close, not bothering to look at what you’re showing to him. But you didn’t mind, you were used to his personality by now anyway. Still, it didn’t stop your mouth from constantly blabbing about your day even if the lion in your lap didn’t seem to care. Well, that was what you thought, not knowing how his ears were actually twitching, attentively listening to every single one of your words.

It’s been a while since you’ve started hanging out with Leona, after you begged him for help that one night. The next day he agreed to do so, you really clanged on to him for protection. Maybe not physically so but the constant grasp in his clothes, hiding behind him, and you frantically looking everywhere just to be with him. Thinking about it now, it made you embarrassed that you were acting almost like an obsessive lover, constantly in need of Leona’s presence. You were surprised that he handled you so well, that he didn’t get annoyed with you too much, putting aside the occasional growls here and there. Overall, he didn’t seem to mind your presence at all, despite the fact that he was so hostile towards everyone from before. 

Maybe his overblotting incident had really did awaken the good in him, even if he isn’t fond of showing it. More importantly, being by his side was probably the safest you’ve ever felt in a while. The strange stalker following you around had practically been non-existent up to this point. You could finally get a good night’s sleep and enjoy your food without losing appetite because of the unnerving glares you get every time you take a bite. It was all thanks to Leona! 

Though, you did notice how weird it is as Leona never actually did do anything about it, he was just by your side this whole time, but it wasn’t like you could imagine him doing anything about it either. This made you automatically assume that your stalker must’ve gotten scared of him instead. You do have the Beast of Savanaclaw himself as a protection, so you wouldn’t really blame that person for staying away. But still, it feels like it was a memory from the past now, nothing to fret over anymore. You made sure to thank Leona for accepting such a weird request on your part, you wonder what he would like in return?

“Leona-san!” A voice called in the distance, slowly coming closer towards the two of you. You looked up and saw the Vice Dorm Head of the same dorm as Leona, Ruggie Bucchi. His eyes looked as bored as ever but lighted up once he saw the person he was looking for. “Ah, there you are. Geez...”

“Oh, Ruggie-san, hello.” You said, smiling at him as the Hyena waved at you, lazily. 

“Hey there, (Y/N). I’ll be borrowing Leona-san for a while.” He said, which made you chuckle thinking how silly it is for him to need some kind of permission from you to do so. Little did you know that Ruggie was almost certain that he was required to do just that. You gestured him to do what he came for, helping him even by patting Leona awake.

“Leona-san...It’s time for class, you know?” Ruggie called, watching how Leona grumbled and buried his face on your stomach. You flinched at that, now that was a feeling you weren’t expecting. Ruggie only sighed at his behavior, scratching the back of his head but he seems to be so used to this kind of routine. “Your teacher’s going to bitch on you again if you arrive late.”

That made Leona sigh in annoyance and grumbled under his breath. He slowly tears himself off you and sat up, massaging his temple. He glanced at you and you gave him a small smile. “Hope you had a good sleep, sorry if you got uncomfortable on my lap...” You scratched the back of your head, sticking your tongue out.

“...Not really.” Leona muttered as he turned away and stood up. “Alright, I’m up. There’s no end to a teacher’s nag so let’s go and take you to your classroom really quick.”

You blinked at him, almost forgetting about the fact that this had been a regular occurrence for the two of you ever since he accepted your request. Usually, you would accept this offer without hesitation but it has been quite a while since your stalker had stopped. You didn’t want to bother Leona with these kinds of silly interactions anymore, not when you weren’t scared anymore. “Ah...That’s no need.” You said, giving him a smile and standing up. “I think I can manage to go by myself now, thank you.”

You noticed how Leona seemed to become a little too quiet for your taste after saying that. It was quite unnerving on how he just stared at you, as if you just did something unusual.

It somehow feels eerily familiar. 

“(Y/N).” Leona calls out, making you flinch in surprise. “Watch your back out there.”

“You never know when someone will just grab you by the neck.”

He seems to be back in his lazy attitude now, giving you his signature smirk. His voice sounding like he meant it as another crude joke but your body stiffened, like it suddenly gone into defense mode. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful but you didn’t like that kind of joke, especially when it hits way to close to your original problem. 

You nod your head without any other question. “I’ll be careful.” You said, giving him a small, but twitching smile. You turned your heel, waving at the two Savanaclaw members and went on your merry way.

A little quicker than usual.

Silence befall on the two beastmen. It was only after your figure disappeared from their sight that Leona heard Ruggie sighed. “I know I’ve been saying this a lot but...” He said, crossing his arms and looking up at Leona with an amused smirk. “You’re really mean, Leona-san.”

“Seriously, you scared her to this extent just so you could come in and be the prince charming? Talk about being cheap.” Ruggie said with the clear intention of pissing of his dorm’s head leader. He got a growl of irritation because of that, but he still considers it as a win. He looked back at Leona, despite his initial thought however, he didn’t seem to be against his decisions.

Leona began to walk away from him, presumably going to his next class, Ruggie followed after him. “She got over her fear of being watched really quick.” He said, yawning.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ruggie asked, raising his eyebrow but then he thought about what he said. “...Well, I guess for her, yeah. But for you, I don’t think so.”

Feeling stupid for answering his own question, Ruggie shook his head and looked up at Leona. “Anyways, what do you plan to do about it?” He asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Leona smirked, Ruggie already could tell that it wasn’t a good sign but he merely sighed at it. 

“I’m going to be giving her another reason to be scared.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

Estimated date release of the next Request in June 19

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//Something Familiar (part 2)

part 1

And he couldn’t help but smile softly, when he realised it was something familiar. 

Then the realization of the moment kicked in. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Steve mumbles to himself while he frantically looks around the busy cafe. Why is there no where to hide? Why are you here? Why is he here? What is he going to do? His eyes are wide with panic and he’s sure he looks insane to anyone thats watching him but he can’t do this. Not now. Not with you. “Shit.” He says a little louder that intended and the middle-aged woman in front of him in the queue stares down her nose at him. He smiles awkwardly before going back to cursing to himself and looking around. And then its too late...

“Steve?” He remembers when you saying his name would cause butterflies to erupt in his stomach, now it just fills his entire body with dread. His blood runs cold at the mention of his name. You used to say it with so much adoration, and he took that for granted. And now he’s alone, thinking of a life he could of had while you’re living the life you should be sharing with him. “What are you doing here?” You ask, your fingers just grazing over his shoulder and he sighs in defeat, turning around and forcing a very small...very awkward smile on his lips. 

“Hi-ey.” He stutters and waves nervously despite the fact your less that three meters away from him. Your coffee cup and friend abandoned at the table you were previously sitting at. And somehow, it feels both your friend and the coffee cup is judging him. But he may just be paranoid. 

“I’m er-I’m visiting Robin and Olivia.” He says as casually as he can. But the shake in his voice gives him away and he sighs to himself. Maybe it was a good thing he broke up with you, then at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the pathetic person he’s become. But then again, if he’d stayed with you, would he be this pathetic person? 

“You’re visiting Robin and Olivia?” You repeat, confusion written across your face as you stare at him. There’s a hint of sadness in your eyes, behind all the confusion, but there’s something else, something he can’t quite figure out. 

At one point he knew what you were feeling with just one look. He knew what you were thinking by just one of your mannerisms, and now its like he’s looking at a stranger. But then again, you felt exactly the same all those years ago. 

“Yeah.” He nods and pushes his hair back. That habit used to make you smile, now it makes you want to cry. “More importantly what are you doing here?” 

“I’m visiting Robin and Olivia.” You reply and his eyes widen. 

“What!?!” 

“I’ve...” You trail off as you try and figure out the right way to word your sentence. You do not need Steve Harrington to know your personal business. That chapter of your life was over. “Recently gotten some free time so they invited me out to see their new place.” 

“Oh.” He says. What does he say to that? “I’ve been having some trouble with my dad so they said I could come hang out with them. Take the pressure of for a little bit.” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and you scoff. 

“You haven’t changed Harrington.” You laugh bitterly. “Why would Robin do this to me?” You ask, your words stinging Steve. He can’t bare to think that seeing him would hurt you so much. But now that he thinks about it. Why would Robin do this? She wouldn’t have forgotten either one of you visiting. And neither would Olivia, Olivia makes lists and writes things on the calendar, visits would be written out, mapped out even. And then it hits him. 

“Because its Robin.” He says and you stare at him. 

“I’m going to kill her.” You seethe, your fist clenching. 

“Oh dear.” Steve mutters. “But same.” He agrees. This is supposed to de-stress him, not do the opposite. Steve watches you walk back to your friend, muttering a quick apology and goodbye before you’re storming out the cafe, him hot on your heels as he jogs to catch up with you. You groan audibly as you start the short walk back to Robin’s apartment. When you walked to this cafe this morning you were excited about spending the week with your friends. What was supposed to be a quick coffee run ended with you chatting to a friend you’d met while in Cali, meaning you’d been there for about half an hour before Steve had walked in. Oh god. Steve was still with you. Walking a few feet behind you, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down. Looking quite literally like a shadow of your former life. A shadow of someone you used to love. 

In the five years since you’d last seen him he hasn’t changed much. His hair is still the same, full of volume and as amazing as always, his brown eyes still sparkle, but they look duller than they did when he was 19. His lips are thinner, but maybe thats just because he’s frowning. You were used to seeing him smile, even on the day you broke up he smiled. But maybe it was fake, the rest of your relationship was, so why not that too. 

He looks more tired than he did, but I suppose thats what working with Mr Harrington does to you. You’d done work experience in his office for a week and it was the worst week of your life. And you’ve had a lot of shit weeks. 

“Steve. Walk next to me, you look like some kind of stalker.” You say annoyed and he shuffles next to you, his hands still in his pockets and his shoulders are even more slumped that before. 

“Soooooo.” He starts making you roll your eyes. “How have you been?” 

“Alright.” You shrug. “You?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Surviving.” 

“Okay.” You reply, continuing to stare straight ahead. 

“Ho-” 

“Steve?” You interrupt. 

“Yep?” 

“Please stop.” 

“Yep.” He agrees, nodding his head slowly before looking around. The two of you stop outside Robin’s apartment complex and you take a deep breath to try and calm down. Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Maybe its all a misunderstanding. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to lose more people you love. 

“Okay.” You say to yourself. “Don’t kill her.” You mumble as you open the door and start walking up the stairs. Steve can’t help the smile that makes its way onto his face as he listens to you talk to yourself. You haven’t changed. You look older, buts its nice. You’ve matured, grown into your looks. Not that you’ve never been beautiful to him, and he can’t quite believe he let you go. He wonders if your happy in Cali, with your new boyfriend, your new dog and your dream job. Surely you are. Anybody would be and there’s nobody that deserves that more than you. But if you’re happy there, why are you here?

You knocking on the front door distracts him from his thoughts and he has to take a few seconds to look around because if he’s being completely honest, he can’t remember how he got here. 

“Its open!” Olivia shouts from inside and you hear the two of them giggling before you swing the door open. Olivia is sat on the kitchen counter while Robin is stood in front of her, holding her hand as she does some stupid dance and for a second the two of you forget, to busy being transported back to a time when you were that happy with each others company. Before love got in the way. Your love for him...and his love for someone he hadn’t even met yet. You just knew it wasn’t you. 

“Okay!” You snap out of your gaze. “What the hell?” You ask angrily and their heads snap towards the front door, eyes widening as they realize that its not just you standing there. 

“Y/n! Steve! I didn’t think you’d run into each other so soon.” Robin spins around fully and starts to make her way towards the two of you. Olivia jumps down from the counter, staring at her girlfriend wide-eyed. They didn’t plan for this. 

“Yeah well. San Francisco is apparently a small place.” You cross your arms. “So care to explain?” You ask, your eyes narrowing. 

“Okay.” Robin starts. 

“We thought we’d have a little more time before you ran into each other.” Olivia jumps in and Robin lets out an audible breath, he brown hair falling into her face as she looks at the floor. “But well, Y/n you’ve recently become single an-” 

“Wait, you’re single now?” Steve interrupts and you look at him in disbelief. 

“Yes. Not that its any of your business.” You snap. 

“And, we just thought it would be a good opportunity for you to get back in touch with each other.” Robin finished her girlfriends point, the two of them nodding as they look between you and Steve. 

“No.” You shake your head. “A good idea would be to do anything but this.” 

“You guys ended on bad terms but it was so long ago. You’re different people now. Steve has matured so much since then. He works with his dad now!” Olivia says cheerily. 

“Yeah, thats not a good thing.” Robin whispers in her ear. 

“Oh.” She sighs and sends a sympathetic look to Steve. “Thats not the point anyway. Listen we just wanted you guys to see each other again. We thought it might help.” 

“So let me get this straight.” You start. 

“We’re no-” Robin begins to talk but your pointing a finger at her before she can barely make out the second word, your glare instantly quieting her. 

“Don’t you even dare finish that sentence Buckley!” 

“Yeah, not the right time.” She nods quickly. 

“So, let me get this straight. I get my heart broken and to cheer me up, you decide to create a fake chance encounter with the first boy to break my heart?” You ask, tears pooling in your eyes as you look between the two of them. Guilty looks takes over their faces as they look at you sadly. 

“Yeah, We didn’t really think that through properly.” Olivia sighs. 

“No. You just didn’t think!” You reply. “Okay.” You run a hand over your face. “I’m going home...this is too much.” 

“No, no.” Steve says quickly. “I’ll go. You stay and enjoy time with your friends.” 

“No!” Robin shouts and all three of you stare at her wide-eyed. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Robin, you know what our landlady has said about loud noises.” Olivia mumbles and you and Steve scrunch your faces. 

“Gross.” You say together, both of you freezing as soon as you’ve said it and Robin sends a knowing smile to Olivia. 

“Listen. We invited you both out here because you need it. You need a break from your normal life and I think you both need to see each other. Just to get everything out the way. Your breakup was messy guys.” Robin says calmly. 

“I was there.” You mumble making Olivia glare at you. 

“I think you should at least talk about it. And then you can do whatever you want. You can go home if you want. Or you can stay. Its completely up to you. Just talk to each other. We think it’ll be good for you. Both of you.” She finishes and looks between the two of you. “Me and Olive have to go get groceries, it’ll give you guys an hour to talk to each other and then when we get back you can do whatever you want. I promise. But just give each other an hour. For me?” She pouts and you huff loudly. 

“Fine.” You agree. “An hour is all your getting and then I’m on the first flight back to California.” 

“Agreed.” She says, a small smile on her lips. 

“Steve?” Olivia asks. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Whatever.” 

“Great!” The both say happily. 

“We’ll just be leaving then.” Olivia says as they put their shoes on. You move further into the apartment, sinking onto the sofa while Steve stays put by the front door. 

“I can’t do this.” He mumbles. “How am I supposed to talk to her. I made her move to Cali. Thats where Hargrove is from. Oh, god, he went back there. What if Hargrove is her new, ex boyfriend?” He starts spiraling and Robin sighs, sick of her overdramatic friend. 

“Steve.” She places her hands on his shoulders and he looks at her. “She’s not screwing Hargrove. And she never has. You got this. Just be you.” 

“But she doesn’t like me.” 

“No, she loves you. She did back then and somewhere, deep down, for some unknown reason, she still does. So go in there and get back the only girl stupid enough to put up with you.” She says sternly and he nods in reply. Taking a few deep breaths and shaking his hands out. 

“I got this.” He mumbles to himself as he walks into the living room. As soon as he see’s you sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, everything he has been wanting to say for the past 5 years leaves his memory. The front door slamming makes him jump and you turn to look at him, your eyebrow raised as you wait for him to start. 

“Well?” 

“Right. Yes.” He says quickly and sits beside you. “Y/n.” He grabs your hand and you reluctantly let him hold it. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Cut the bullshit Harrington. I know you had something to do with this.” You narrow your eyes at him but he seems unfazed by your stare, he’s too busy hung up on that word. The word that still makes him flinch every time he hears it. “Shit.” You mumble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” You apologize and squeeze his hand. 

“Why are you still so nice to me?” The question takes you back. 

“What?” You laugh awkwardly. 

“I broke your heart five years ago. I did the same thing Nancy did to me, but you’re still nice to me. You apologized for saying some stupid word that a girl said to me more than seven years ago. I don’t deserve that.” 

“Everyone deserves a little bit of nice in their life. I mean, unless they’re really evil.” You laugh a little at the end making him smile. “How have you been Steve. Really?” 

“Oh, you know.” He shrugs. “I still live in Hawkins. I work for my dad.” He shrugs. “But I do have my own big house to feel lonely in instead of living in theirs so you know, I’m living the dream.” He says, trying to lighten the tone of his words, but its no use, there’s no hiding that sadness. 

“Did you find her?” You ask, scared to hear the answer. You don’t which would be worse. 

“Who?” He asks confused, the same dopey look on his face and you can’t help but laugh. 

“You know who Harrington.” You roll your eyes and you see him slowly realize who you’re on about. 

“Oh, yeah. Er, no. I lost her actually.” He shakes his head and you frown. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No. Not like that.” He corrects himself. “I’m so bad at this. I meant you. I lost you. You were her. I was just an idiot who was still so caught up in himself basically.” He replies, and forces himself to look at you. Your eyes are wide, your lips parted as you try and figure out what to say. “Enough about me. How have you been?” 

“Stev-” You start softly but he shakes his head. 

“Please.” He says quietly. 

“Well, I err. I moved to Cali. Funny story, Billy ended up being my neighbour for a while.” 

“That sucks.” He laughs a little and you join in. 

“Yeah, he isn’t that bad anymore. He’s grown up a lot.” 

“Wow. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I know.” You agree. “I got my dream job, which is actually where I met Joshua. And we dated, moved in together, got a puppy and then he broke up with me.” 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. 

“Its okay.” You shrug. “I wasn’t the one.” You repeat the words Joshua had used and Steve looks at you surprised. 

“Ouch.” 

“Yep. The only two people I’ve been in a relationship and I wasn’t the one for both of them.” You laugh, but there’s no humour behind it. Only anger and sadness and it kills Steve to know he did that. “And now I found out that all that heartbreak could have been saved if my first boyfriend wasn’t an idiot.” 

“Yeahhhhh.” He agrees. “I am an idiot.” 

“But you were my idiot.” You smile at him. 

“Y/n?” He asks. 

“How would you feel about starting again?” 

“Wha-at?” You stutter. “You want to give this another go?” 

“Yes.” He nods. “Listen, I was an actual idiot back then. But I’m different now. I know what I want and I want you. I knew I wanted you as soon as I let you go and I’ve been kicking myself every day since then. Please, just give me another chance.” 

“Steve. I dunno.” You shake your head. “We’re both different people. We practically live on different sides of the country.” 

“I’ll move.” He says quickly. 

“What!? You can’t move. You have a life in Indiana. A job. What about your dad?” 

“I have a life but I’m not living. Not without you. Its hell in Indiana, and I need an excuse to leave. I’ll move to Cali with you, and we can start a new life together, like it should have been.” 

“I think.” You start, looking him in the eye. “If we’re going to start again we should go slow. We have a lot to learn about each other. A lot of trust to build back up.” 

“Whatever you want.” He agrees and you smile shyly at him, a blush creeping its way up your cheeks. “Can I kiss you?” He asks and you nod quickly. His hand cups your cheek as he leans in slowly, your breathing picks up as you close that gap and its like you’re 17 again, making out in your room. 

-----

“...wow.” You mumble, your breathing ragged as you lie next to him on the small couch, you’re still practically on top of him but you don’t care, you’re happy and your safe.  

“Wow indeed.” He agrees and stares at the ceiling. His arms snake around your waist while your head rests on his shoulder, your finger drawing gentle shapes as you listen to his heartbeat. “What happened to taking it slow?” He looks down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your head. 

“Fuck slow. Who has the time?” You shrug. 

“So Cali?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You agree. “What the hell.” 

“Great! I’m moving to California.” He says excitedly. “Do I need to get a new wardrobe?” 

“Nah, you’ll be fine.” You reply. “Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you love me?” You ask, your heartbeat picking up as you wait for his answer. Luckily you don’t have to wait for long though. 

“More than you’ll ever know.”  

[susandwrites]

Fallen Through Time - Chapter Seven

Read on AO3.

Sherlock extended a confident hand and waved down his first Victorian cab. As John climbed in, he said to the driver, “Bart’s Hospital, please.” The man nodded and Sherlock slid into the back of the carriage, settling in beside John.

“I have a friend who works in the morgue who should be able to sneak us a peek at the murder victim,” John said, unbuttoning his jacket and making himself comfortable. “Perhaps we’ll be able to suss something out without traveling through time or giving chase to a stalker in the forest.”

Sherlock huffed a little laugh. “It would be helpful to finally have uninterrupted access to the body,” Sherlock mused. He ran his hands over the fabric of his new suit, admiring the handsome plaid pattern, and it occurred to him that John had made rather a large sacrifice in paying to clothe Sherlock. He had deduced when he first met John that he was living above his means simply for the sake of living in London and not begging to his family, and now he had gone and spent what much surely be a large sum of money on a man he had only just met. And kissed. Rather spectacularly. Sherlock felt his cheeks flush; John had done him a favour, apparently out of the goodness of his heart.

“John,” he said, keeping his face as smooth as possible, “I’d like to thank you for the suit. Sincerely. It was… quite generous of you.”

John looked almost taken aback. He blinked a little confusedly and uttered, “Oh — ah, of course. Think nothing of it.” He offered Sherlock an awkward little smile and turned his face back to the window. Doesn’t like to talk about money. Noted. Is that why he won’t go to his family? Oh, no. His family is why he doesn’t like to talk about money. Unsure of the next “appropriate” thing to say, Sherlock decided to leave it be. He had done what was socially required when a person does one a favour and, surprisingly, he had meant it. Sherlock continued to fiddle with his jacket until he felt something in his pocket. His eyebrows furrowed, Sherlock extracted a small slip of cardstock. It was printed with a delicate image of a bouquet of roses and read, “Miss Janine Hawkins, 43 George Street.”

“What on Earth?” Sherlock mumbled and John turned to see what he was on about. Sherlock turned the card for John to see and was surprised when John’s face split into a wide grin. “What?”

“It seems Miss Hawkins would like to see more of you, Mister Holmes,” he teased with a bright laugh. At Sherlock’s continued confusion, he explained, “It’s her calling card ‒ so you know where to find her. Surely people do something similar in your own time?”

“My understanding is that when young people are interested in coitus they send small pictures of aubergines and peaches via their mobile phones to the object of their affection.” Now it was John’s turn to be confused.

“Whatever for?”

“I believe it is due to their vague resemblance to human genitalia.” John’s eyebrows flew nearly to his hairline and Sherlock chuckled.

“Dear God,” he muttered, utterly scandalised.

“I know. Vulgar, isn’t it?”

“Rather.” They made eye contact and were soon enveloped in a fit of giggles that lasted until the cab pulled to a stop in front of St. Bart’s Hospital.

The morgue was located exactly where Sherlock remembered it — in the basement — and that small similarity gave him a tiny feeling of reassurance. This was a case, like any other, and he had to go about the Work with the same diligence and fervour with which he treated every case.

John led the way into the morgue, Sherlock following close behind. There were several bodies laid out on work tables, all covered over with heavy linen, and a quick survey told Sherlock that they were, surprisingly, all female.

“Miss Hooper. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” John was saying cordially, and Sherlock’s attention was drawn to a living woman at the back of the room. She turned and offered John a mousey little smile, taking his hand in a polite shake. Her hair was pinned up in a simple, slightly-askew bun and her clothes were plain. Simple. Practical, Sherlock corrected. Durable fabric, no excessive frills, well cared-for but clearly worn regularly ‒ not a large wardrobe, then. Single, lives with a relative ‒ likely an aunt or some such ‒ late twenties, works with her hands.

“You must be quick, Doctor Watson,” Miss Hooper replied in a thin voice. “I’m really not supposed to let you down here while I’m working.”

“Working?” Sherlock inquired with a tilt of his head. “You work with the bodies?”

“Yes,” Miss Hooper replied, slightly surprised by the question. “I’m the undertaker here for women and children. And you are…?”

“Oh! Apologies,” John interjected, “Miss Margaret Hooper, this is my new friend, Mister Sherlock Holmes. He’s a detective, helping me to investigate this murder.” Sherlock gave John a slightly-indignant look at being referred to as someone else’s helper, but he let it slide. He was, after all, the stranger in the strange land. Sherlock offered Miss Hooper a handshake and she took it.

“I didn’t expect a female undertaker,” Sherlock explained, but that earned him a surprisingly-hard expression from Miss Hooper. Her mouth formed a thin line and her eyes narrowed, clearly having heard this sentiment before.

“It’s more common than you might think,” she said, almost accusatory. “Bart’s has a policy against men embalming females and children for the sake of decency. It seems that even dead women are not free from the societal pressures of modesty.”

Sherlock was a little taken aback ‒ he had only suspected that, due to the time period, women would not be allowed to do what was often considered “man’s work”. Certainly, he didn’t think one’s gender had any bearing on their competency. Societal constructs of gender and sex were completely arbitrary, besides. Suddenly, it occured to Sherlock that he had not voiced any of these thoughts and had been staring uncomfortably at Miss Hooper for nearly thirty awkward seconds. “That’s not ‒ I didn’t mean…” he stuttered quickly, but John stepped in.

“I’m sure Mister Holmes is merely surprised,” he supplied helpfully. “He’s never worked with an undertaker before ‒ you must forgive his ignorance, Miss Hooper.” Ignorance? Sherlock had never been accused of ignorance before in his life. Well, except by Mycroft, but he was a cock. John raised a warning eyebrow at Sherlock  and he decided to take the path of least resistance.

“Apologies if I offended you, Miss Hooper. I am grateful for your assistance.” He nearly pulled a muscle from trying to maintain an expression of plausible contrition. But it appeared that Miss Hooper was mollified.

“I’ve heard it often enough,” she said with a sigh. With little fanfare, Miss Hooper approached one of the slabs and whipped the sheet from the body atop the wooden surface. “Mrs. Edith Herraldson, formerly of Swindon, in town visiting her sister who identified her earlier this morning. Thirty-four years of age, stabbed on the left-hand side with a non-serrated blade which punctured her liver and lung.”

“A bit of an expert maneuver, wouldn’t you say?” Sherlock asked casually, bending to take a closer look at the wound in question. “To miss the ribs and not make a mess of the whole affair?”

“I’d say so,” Miss Hopper concurred.

“Are these bruises on her chin?” John was bent over Mrs. Herraldson’s face, his eyebrows furrowed and his fingers gently tilting her head left and right. “Here ‒ along her right jaw.”

Sherlock stepped closer and examined her face from John’s point-of-view. He was correct. “The killer must have gripped her ‘round the mouth as he stabbed her.”

“He?” John asked.

“Most likely, given the spacing of the bruises and the strength required for this kind of stabbing.” Sherlock righted himself and looked down at John, his open face a touchstone for steady thought.

“So he ‒ what? ‒ sat on the bench beside her and held her by the jaw?” One of John’s eyebrows lowered in contemplation. “Why wouldn’t she have moved away? Been afraid or offended?”

“I expect he was making a pass at her.” Sherlock looked quickly around the room before grabbing two chairs and plopping them down side by side. He pointed to one and John sat down before Sherlock took up the other seat. “He joins her on the bench, at a respectable distance, they start chatting and he slowly sidles closer.” Sherlock demonstrated and John turned to look at him with an expression that was somewhere between bemusement and amusement. Dropping his left arm onto the back of John’s chair, Sherlock leaned over him a little as he continued to speak. “He’s making her feel comfortable ‒ flattered, even. She’s not paying attention to his hands.” Sherlock dropped his gaze a little, glancing down at John’s mouth before meeting his eyes again. There was heat in John’s blue irises that hadn't been there a moment before. “It’s the perfect moment to strike.” Sherlock quickly wrapped his left hand around John’s jaw, covering his mouth, and jabbed John in the side with his right index finger. John jumped at the attack and Sherlock smirked. A little huff of embarrassed laughter escaped John’s nose and he practically rolled his eyes as Sherlock stood from their makeshift bench.

“You git,” he said, but there was no real annoyance behind the word.

“I’ve heard it often enough.” Sherlock grinned and offered Miss Hooper a playful little wink. Finally, she smiled at him and shook her head. It occured to Sherlock that in his own time, working with people was an unfortunate evil. He would never have felt inclined to make peace with someone whom he had offended ‒ or even realise that he had offended someone in the first place. But John was introducing him to people, practically insisting that he engage in polite conversation, and for some reason, Sherlock felt inclined to comply. It had been easier, for certain, to deal with people after being nice, if a little more time-consuming. But perhaps, in the long run, it would prove beneficial for people to feel engendered towards him. John truly was proving himself to be an asset to Sherlock’s very existence in this time.

“Well, if the two of you have gotten everything you need,” Miss Hopper said as John replaced the chairs to their proper stations, “Professor Moriarty will be down shortly to make his own notes and I’d rather not be caught letting unauthorised persons in the morgue.”

“Certainly, Miss Hooper,” John said, waving his hat politely before donning it.

“Thank you again.” Sherlock nodded with a small smile, which Miss Hopper returned, and he and John took their leave.

‒‒

“I don’t know what it is you want me to say, Mister Holmes. I know as much as you do.”

“Well, I doubt that very much.” Mycroft sat back in his chair and tapped the capped end of his Montblanc pen impatiently against the surface of his desk. He stared across at Detective Inspector Lestrade with a shrewd expression. “But when it comes to Sherlock Holmes, there are certain details of his everyday life which he still manages to keep from my sight.”

“What makes you think I know anything?” Lestrade demanded, equally impatient but unable to remain as infuriatingly calm as Mycroft. “I need him on this case ‒ a body turns up on Parliament Hill in what Sherlock assures me are authentic Victorian clothes, he goes running off into the woods, we all turn our backs for one second, and next thing he and the body are missing. What am I s’posed to do with that, eh? If I knew where he was, don’t you think I’d be after him myself?”

“I think you know where he is because, loathe though I am to admit it, you do probably know him best.”

“I’ve known him for five years and no I don’t.” Lestrade crossed his arms and flopped back in his own chair, far less comfortable than the one in which Mycroft reclined.

“You’ve been his arresting officer on no fewer than eleven occasions. I believe that gives me reason to suspect that you may have an inkling as to his whereabouts. His most-frequented bolt-holes, the people with whom he usually associated when he… relapses.”

“You’re the one with all this power ‒ you can’t track him or anything?”

“Power?” Mycroft scoffed. “What makes you think I have any power whatsoever?”

“Well, I’ve been sequestered in this office for more than twelve hours, brought here by spooks in an unmarked towncar. And, as you say, I’ve arrested Sherlock at least eleven times and the last time I checked, he doesn’t have so much as a parking ticket on his record. I know I  didn’t pardon him.” Lestrade lifted an eyebrow and gave Mycroft a look that could only be described as sassy. “Now, I will do anything I can to find Sherlock because he’s my friend, it’s my job, and I need his help. But I can’t do anything while I’m trapped in this bloody office.”

Mycroft took a deep breath through his nose and considered the detective before him. “This conversation never happened.”

“I’m sure it didn't.” Lestrade stood from his chair, grabbed up his jacket, and marched through the door.

[cocobaek]

Crossfire | 03

Bodyguard AU!

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: Angst (more so in later chapters) | Fluff | Slow burn

Word Count: 4.4

Previous Chapter: 02                                                  Next Chapter: 04

With the newly formed plan, the rest of my day flew by, fueled by the excitement I had for the night ahead. Before I knew it, the sun was setting, and I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom, doing some last minute touch ups of my makeup, using the reflection of my full length mirror. “Hey, you think this is a bit too much?” I heard a voice from behind me. I continued looking into the mirror, but looked upwards to see the reflection of Namjoon standing in my doorway. “Holy shit,” I muttered quickly, instantly hoping he missed it.  He was leaning against my door frame, attention focused on the small piece of fabric he was loosely lying around his neck, like a makeshift tie. I had gotten rather use to seeing him in business like attire, so seeing him lean there, light denim ripped jeans, and a very loose fitting white shirt, tucked into said paints, was a shock to say the least. And boy, did that man pull it off. “No, no way, you’ll fit right in,” I said, turning my top half to look at him properly, “you suit that.” He glanced at me finally, a small smile on his face, “I’m glad you think so,” he said smugly. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror. “What time are we thinking of heading off?” He asked, and I shrugged in response. “Jungkook is making his way here when he’s ready so we can all arrive together, so probably not a little bit yet,” I said, placing my lipstick on, the last thing to do. “We could have a few drinks now? You do drink right?” He laughed again, a deep, rumbling laugh, “Usually I do, but i’m still on the clock remember, can’t do much protecting if i’m drunk.” “Oh come on,” I stood up, cleaning up my makeup and placing it back in it’s home on my desk, “i’m sure a drink or two won’t hurt.” We held eye contact a moment before he sighed, giving in. “You’re a bad influence you know.” I flashed a toothy grin, “so i’ve heard, i’m rather proud of it.” He laughed again, before turning and making his way to the kitchen, giving me the opportunity to quickly get changed into my playsuit for the night. I was out in the living room rather quickly, and almost missed the brief look over Namjoon gave me. His eyes looking me up and down when he thought I wasn’t looking.  A part of me was excited at this movement, but it was quickly hushed by the rest of me, reminding it he was here as a bodyguard, that there was no way I could get my hopes up. And besides, a guy like him probably had the most beautiful person you could imagine just waiting for him at home. “You a beer girl?” He asked, handing me one of the drinks from the fridge. “I’m an anything type of girl, but yeah, as you can see i’m kind of in a beer mood,” I laughed, realising my fridge would’ve been at least 50% alcohol. He nodded, taking a seat at the other side of the couch. As he did, I brought my legs up and crossed them, shifting my body so I was facing him, cross legged on the couch. He remained sitting normally, but slightly twisted his top half, facing me also. “So..” He started. “So..” I repeated, a small smile on my face. We had been so busy, there weren’t many moments where we were just sitting, talking. “Do you do this often? Go out?” He asked. I pursed my lips, thinking a moment, “mm, I wouldn’t say often.. But it’s not like i’m a hermit either,” I lent back, “I’d need to be in the mood to go out you know? I mean, in saying that, Jungkook is very good at getting someone in the mood to go out.” At the mention of Jungkook, Namjoon looked at his beer. “You two seem close?” “Jungkook and I? Oh yeah,” I laughed at the understatement. “He’s like a brother to me, has been for a long time.” “And he’s never met your father?” I nodded, “Yeah.. Well Mum and Dad separated a while back, before mum got sick,” I answered casually, “so when I started high school it was just mum and I. My brother would come over every other week, but we didn’t really talk about Dad, and Jungkook just never ended up asking about it.” Namjoon nodded, “does anyone know? That he’s your dad.” “Not a soul,” I shrugged, “I just don’t really see the point of it, I don’t want to be treated as ‘the VP’s daughter,’ I just wanna be [y/n].” Namjoon must’ve liked my answer, as he smiled kindly, before sipping at his drink, “well, that sure does make finding whoever is stalking you a bit harder aye.” I laughed at his casual tone, “yeah, i guess it does.” We fell into silence after that.. The mention of the stalker bringing down the mood. It was easy to forget that was the real reason Namjoon was here. It was easy to forget that anything was happening at all. “Hey, I have an idea,” I finally said, wanting to get my mind off of it. Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow, prompting me to continue. “Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” Namjoon scoffed, “wow, i didn’t know I was babysitting a highschooler,” he joked. “Oh come on, we are basically strangers with the amount we know about each other,” I said. Even after the quickfire this morning, I had only found out general, rather boring things about Namjoon. If I had any opportunity to find out something, it was here. “Yeah alright then,” He agreed, pulling one leg up to he could turn to face me. “Since it was your idea, why don’t you start us off.” I thought a moment, “ok.. Hmm, Never have I ever, been arrested!” I said, diving straight into it. Namjoon smirked, his beer staying exactly where it was, “sorry to disappoint.” “I don’t know what I was expecting to be honest,” I laughed, leaning back, “alright big shot, your turn.” I watched something briefly flicker in his eyes at the nickname, but as quickly as it had arrived, it was gone. Must just be the alcohol kicking in. “Alright then, Never have I ever purposely used my looks to get something I wanted.” I furrowed my brows, “Oh come on I don’t believe that for a second,” I said as I took a sip from my beer, indicating it was something I had done. “I cross my heart, never intentionally..” I rolled my eyes, “you keep saying that Namjoon.” “Ok, never have I ever slept with someone 10 years my senior,” I said with a grin, looking directly into his eyes. He held the eye contact, before at the last minute taking a sip from his drink. “I knew it!” I called with a laugh, “what, you just seem like the type,” I said, seeing the look he gave me. “I don’t want to even ask why you think that but ok,” he said with a smirk, “never have I ever slept with someone I really wasn’t supposed to.” I gave him a curious look, “what’s that meant to mean?” “Exactly what I said,” he said, “for some reason or another, you broke a rule to sleep with this person.” I felt my heart leap at the question, the bad part of my brain once again speaking up, relating his question to our situation. I took a drink, thinking back to when I slept with my ex not long after we had broken up, much to Jungkook and Hobi’s displeasure, but didn’t share that fact with Namjoon. I wanted his imagination to run wild. “Ok, never have I ever slept with a client,” I said, starting to push the boundaries a little. He didn’t hesitate to shake his head, “nope, never.” “Then never have I ever wanted to sleep with a client,” I said before my brain could stop me. That one, I know for a fact was because of the alcohol. The small amount we had consumed already beginning to make me bolder than normal. The look returned to Namjoons eyes, his mind obviously going to the same place as mine. I was unsure if he felt anything, or if he just realised what I was asking, but I knew that whatever he was thinking, I was included in those thoughts. The pause grew excruciating long. He hadn’t denied it like earlier, but his bottle wasn’t moving. The tension in the room was unreal, you could cut it with a knife. He opened his mouth slightly to say something when a knock on the door almost instantly snapped us out of it. I cleared my throat, “must be Jungkook,” I said, quickly moving to the door, hiding the blush that had appeared on my face after the realisation of what I had said hit me. I opened the door to see Kook smiling brightly at me, having had some drinks himself, he looked very ready to go. “Holy moly girl, if Jimin didn’t want to bang you before that outfit will sure change that,” He said with a whistle, which I quickly scolded him for with a hit. “Oh stop it perv,” I said, finishing my drink quickly. “Ready to go then Namjoon?” I asked, finally looking back over to him, ignoring the feeling in my gut when we caught eyes again. “Yeah, sure am.” Jungkook nodded, “man, it must be cause I see you in a suit every day, but you should really dress like that more often, you look sick,” he complimented. Namjoon laughed, “[y/n] said the same thing.. Looks like i’ll have to consider it now,” he joked. “It will be a gift to us all,” Jungkook said, opening the front door, “ok, there’s a difference between being fashionably late and missing the party let’s go team let’s go.” I shrugged on my jacket and joined Jungkook in the hallway, before the three of us began the trek to Jimin’s

“Man, Hobi is going to be kicking himself for missing this,” Jungkook said, chucking his hands in his pockets. “Hobi?” Namjoon questioned, the name not being mentioned to him yet. “The third member of our wee gang,” I answered, “we met him last year when we started Uni, he’s amazing.” Jungkook nodded in agreeance, “he has to go see his mum for the break though.” Namjoon nodded, “right, right, well I hope I get to meet him then.” I looked up at Namjoon. It hadn’t occurred to me really that Namjoon may have to be here for a long time, it always seemed to slip my mind the original reason he was here. “You’ll love him, everyone does,” Jungkook smiled as we rounded the corner, Jimin’s house coming into view. Jungkook let out a whistle, “this place never fails to amaze me, how he landed that flat I have no idea,” he said, marvelling at the house as we got closer and closer. “That’s not his parent’s house?” Namjoon questioned. I shook my head, “Jimin got crazy good luck and him and a few guys scored this place for cheap rent,” I sighed, “how they did that will always amaze me.” We walked into the open home, greeted by the typical stereotypes of a college party. Loud music, dancing people, and a whole lot of alcohol. “I’m gonna go find the old guys, see you later?” Jungkook shouted to me over the music. I nodded, and the moment I did he was gone. “That didn’t take long did it,” Namjoon chuckled, scanning over the crowd, “and neither did Jimin.” “Huh?” I looked up at him, unsure what he meant until I felt a hand on the small of my back. “[y/n]! You made it! Jungkook said you might have to miss it?” He said, running a hand through his blond hair. “Family plans fell through, we got to escape,” I laughed, looking briefly too Namjoon, but Jimin tightened his grip, pulling my attention back to him. “Shall we go somewhere less loud?” Hearing this Namjoon stepped forward, “Sounds perfect Jimin, outside maybe?” Jimin opened his mouth, looking like he was going to argue, but soon his signature charming smile graced his face, “Yeah, outside is good!” He began guiding me outside, still wrapped around me. “Does he know anyone else here?” he asked me, trying not to sound like he was trying to get rid of Namjoon, but a part of me knew that’s all he was trying to do. I shook my head, “only Jungkook but he’s already lost in the party.” Jimin chuckled, “I’m just hoping to get a little time alone with you is all,” he said, lowering his tone so prying ears couldn’t hear. I couldn’t help but blush, looking to the floor at his words. He didn’t say anything else until we got outside, and finally I stepped away slightly, enjoying the amount of space there was. “Geez, I didn’t know you could fit this many people in your house,” I said. “Yeah, well, it’s amazing the things that can happen when a little bit of effort is put in,” He said, grinning slightly.  He glanced to Namjoon before looking back at me intently, “you look amazing tonight [y/n], like, really, really good.” I smiled sweetly, tucking some hair behind my ear, “Thanks Jimin..” I didn’t know why I was acting like this. No part of me liked Jimin in that way. Sure, he was extremely attractive, and if given the opportunity I’d probably spend the night with him, but there were no feelings there, no longing to be with Jimin. Behind me, Namjoon cleared his throat. I looked back at him and the look in his eyes nearly sent me into a frenzy. It was something I had never seen before, there was something slightly dangerous about the glint in his eyes. “Hey, I think I saw Jungkook, I might go see what he’s up to,” He said, placing a hand on my shoulder gently, “come get me if you need anything.” I nodded, unsure what he was doing. Didn’t he want to protect me? Shouldn’t he stick by me? I was for some reason rather bothered when Jimin said a short goodbye to Namjoon and he disappeared into the crowd of people. “Your cousin’s a bit odd isn’t he?” Jimin said light heartedly. “Just protective is all,” I said, looking back and smiling at him, “he hasn’t been to a party like this with me before, i’m sure he just wants to make sure i’m safe.” “Well, i’ll stick by you, make sure you’re as safe as can be.”

Meanwhile, Namjoon didn’t take long to find a spot where he could watch Jimin and [y/n] through the party without being noticed. Or so he thought. “Leaving them to it huh?” Jungkook said as he sidled in next to Namjoon. Namjoon nodded, “not really the best wing man if I stand over her watching like a hawk. Jungkook nodded, “you’re very right there,” his gaze followed Namjoons to the pair. “It’s weird, we have known Jimin for ages and never once has he showed any interest in [y/n].” This caught Namjoon’s attention, as he glanced to the pink headed boy beside him. “Then, when we started uni, and after [y/n]’s mum passed he was all over her, like he had been into her the whole time,” he shrugged. “I don’t like that,” Namjoon said, looking back over, shaking his head, “something seems off about it to me.” “You’d think so,” Jungkook said, “but I know Jimin, even though we weren’t close, we still went to school together, the guys a softy, popular yes, good with the ladies yes, but he’s not an asshole, he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt her.” Namjoon wanted to believe Jungkook for [y/n]’s sake, but he knew that he had to consider everyone a threat, and unfortunately for Jimin, his interest in [y/n] was all too convenient.

The night continued to move, and I was still outside with Jimin. It was nice, we hadn’t really sat and caught up properly before, and with boys from school coming and going, it was all a rather nice reunion.  I couldn’t ignore the fact however, that Jimin’s hands began to ghost a little too intimately. He always had to be touching me somehow, sometimes being brave and resting a hand on my thigh, but mostly just rested it around the small of my back. Usually, I would be all too into this. The affection, the contact, everything. But my mind kept going to one thing. No. One person rather.

Namjoon.

It bothered me that he was all I could think of. The moment before Jungkook interrupted us replaying over and over. What was he going to say? Was he going to drink? A part of me hoped that I was the one he wanted to sleep with, that he wanted to break protocol just once. I wasn’t sure where this sudden longing came from, but it wasn’t something I was all too bothered by. “You ok [y/n]?” Jimin asked, seeing me off in my own world. I looked over to him, smiling sweetly, “yeah, fine, just haven’t seen Namjoon in a while, i’m a bit worried.” Jimin chuckled, and pointed just to the left of where I was looking, “I think he’s doing just fine.” I followed his line of sight to see Namjoon speaking with two girls in our class, a large smile printed on his face. He was leaning against the wall, making them laugh with every word he said. As if he knew, he glanced up at me in that exact moment, his smile fading as our eye contact grew strong and heavy. I clenched my jaw, and looked away. The reality of the situation dawning on me. I was crushing on him. Hard. I couldn’t let that happen. This was the man who was being paid to make sure I was safe, not some boy I could try woo and get into bed with. One of those was sitting right beside me. “I’m bored Jimin,” i said suddenly, placing a hand on his chest, “i’m sure you have somewhere else in this place we could... hang out.” I surprised myself slightly with this boldness. But all that was racing through my mind was Namjoon and that look he gave me. I needed him gone, I needed a distraction. “I thought you’d never ask,” Jimin said, lacing his hand in mine and standing up. I followed him through the crowd, ignoring the gaze I could feel from the other side of the room. I knew he would be unhappy with this, that I would get the lecture of a lifetime when we were home. But I couldn’t have him in my head a minute longer. Jimin opened one of the many shut doors on the second floor of his house and ushered me in. It was his room, one I had been in before when we were working on our project. Not much has changed, he had instruments littered around the place, band posters on the wall, everything you’d expect from a young male. “[y/n],” he started as he shut the door behind him, causing me to turn around and face him. “I hope I haven’t been too forward.. If you don’t want to do this we can-” I shook my head and interrupted him, “just kiss me quickly please.” He smirked, and didn’t take one second longer, striding towards me and capturing my lips in a heated kiss. It was nothing like what I had experienced before. There were no feelings behind it, no longing, no secret hidden meaning. Just lust, and passion, and honestly that’s all I wanted in this moment. My hands didn’t need any time to lace their way into Jimin’s hair as his own explored my body, lingering places he found the most interesting. I tilted my head back as he made his way down my neck, stopping and taking his time as much as he could without losing the intensity of the moment. I shut my eyes, but as soon as I did I wish I hadn’t. All I could imagine, all I wanted to imagine was those lips belonging to someone else, someone who was downstairs and someone who I really, really should not be fantasising about. I was pulled from these thoughts when Jimin moved a hand up to cup my face, making direct eye contact with me, a smirk on his face, taking in how I looked in front of him before leaning in and capturing my mouth again. His hands finally traced down to the zipper on the back of my playsuit, and began slowly pulling it down. It didn’t take him long to reach the bottom, letting go of it. But before the fabric could fall off of my body, the door behind him swung open. “What the fuck man,” Jimin said quickly, turning to shelter my body from the intruder. In front of him towered Namjoon, looking none to impressed. “I am so sorry to interrupt,” he said, sounding not sincere in the slightest, glancing from Jimin to me. “Uncle just called me, there’s been a bit of a situation,” he said, spinning the lie well. I nodded, trying to catch my breath and quickly zipping up my playsuit before any more of my body was revealed. “Right,” I said, my voice a look weaker than I ever wanted it to be, “I’m so sorry Jimin.” He spun to me and smiled sweetly, “don’t worry about it yeah? Next time?” I was going to reply, when Namjoon coughed. My eyes flickered to him a moment before back to Jimin. I nodded, “yeah, maybe.” The moment Jimin wasn’t blocking me from the door, Namjoon had a hold of my wrist, and was dragging me out of the room before I could say anything more to him.

“What the fuck Namjoon!” I hissed as he roughly moved me through the party and out onto the street. His pace didn’t slow the way home, and everytime I tried to say something to him he would ignore it. It wasn’t until we were back in my dorm when he released my hand, looking back at me, “are you really that stupid [y/n]? I get the fact you wanted a fuck but someone is out there trying to kill you, you don’t think that going into a room alone with some guy is dangerous?” He said, his tone no louder or faster than usual, but there was something about it that frightened me. “He’s not just some guy, i’ve known him forever,” I defended myself, “anyone else and I wouldn’t’ve.” He shook his head, “no, no, you need to start thinking more.. Everyone at this university could be the one looking for you, you don’t think it’s strange he started trying to get you alone after your mum died?” “How did you-” I went to ask, but he was on a roll. “Look, [y/n], it’s not my job to be your babysitter, it’s my job to keep you alive. You should value your life and your safety more and think before you act.” I was stunned. Everything he was saying was correct. I didn’t take any of this as serious as I should. “You really think someone is out to get me? To kill me?” I asked quietly. His expression softened, “yeah... yeah I do now.” I let out a breath. “I didn’t believe any of it.” “Yeah I gathered that,” he said, calming himself down a bit, taking off his makeshift tie and sitting on the couch. “I’m sorry.” My apology must’ve shocked him, cause he looked over at me quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you run around or make you think you need to baby me... I’ll think more.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, “to be quite honest with you, i was expecting more of a fight, i was expecting to have to wear you down to see my point of view.” I joined him in the quiet laughter, “yeah, well, something is just telling me that I need to trust you.” He looked back to his hands as I said that, “god, [y/n],” he whispered, “you need to stop doing that.” “Doing what?” I asked. “That look.. When you say stuff like that, you get this look in your eyes, so innocent, one day a man is going to take advantage of that.” For maybe the hundredth time tonight, I felt my heart leap. “I should say sorry too,” he said, filling the silence, “I know you wanted to... to be with Jimin. I interrupted that.” “I- I don’t think I wanted to be with Jimin,” I said softly, causing him to meet my gaze one more time. The look was intense. As if he was understanding the meaning behind every word I was saying. I didn't want to believe that was true however, I couldn’t let myself believe he wanted me. I couldn’t be disappointed again. “Let’s consider it a good thing then,” he said, “it stopped you from doing something you’d regret. Being drunk can do that sometimes, make you think you’re interested in someone you are not.” His words seemed pointed and I swallowed, picking up his message loud and clear. “Yeah..” I agreed, moving towards my room. “I hope you had a good night,” he finally called out before I disappeared. I leant my head out, “do you look after all of your clients this much?” I asked. Instead of flashing his usual smirk or grin, he simply stared directly at me. “No, none of them actually. If you were anyone else I would’ve quit by now.” I felt my breath leave my body. I didn’t imagine that. That happened. “Goodnight [y/n],” he said, dismissing me one final time, not wanting to linger on the situation.

I nodded, “yeah.. Night Namjoon.”

[brallonsin]

Velveteen Ships

Chapter 4

I don’t go home with Ryan, much to his disappointment. The nerve of that guy. He comes over, throwing his money around, offering me drinks, telling me how he owns the bar, sharing his fancy, amazing weed as if it’s going to make me turn around and go home with him. I almost did, but not for those reasons. He looked genuinely pissed off and the thought crossed my mind that he’s probably used to getting his way. I try not to laugh.

I wake up in my own bed, luckily, smiling at the comfort of my surroundings, taking in the walls covered in musicians, Bowie, The Smiths, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, my favourite men all staring back at me. My bed is soft and I decide to stay in it a little while longer, to sink back into the sheets and dwell of last night with embarrassment. All the flirting, the hip swaying, the grinding. I need to get laid.

After my shower, I decide to play my guitar, I have twenty minutes or so to kill before work and I need to practise as much as I can for our gig next week, just in case there’s any talent scouts, you know? This might be my big break. I only stop playing as I hear a voice harmonising with mine on the other side of my bedroom door.

I’m not surprised when I find a half naked Gabe at our table eating breakfast, but it doesn’t stop my eyes taking in his glowing body, his golden torso up to his sparkling smile and it’s obvious what he got up too last night. He’s dripping of sex.

“Dallon’s gone to work.” he acknowledges me. He looks like he had a headache and again, I’m not surprised. Gabe’s an undeniably handsome man, his lips tilt up at one corner, curling into a smile as I take him in. He’s looking at me like he know’s what I’m thinking.

“Yes, we had sex. Dal’s damn good, has he ever fucked you?” my eyes flicker to a hickey on Gabe’s neck and huh. I didn’t take Dallon as the dominant type. That’s… that’s good to know. I realise I haven’t answered as the other man begins to tap his foot impatiently, dark eyes watching me.

“Oh! No…” I practically spit out. Because no, of course not, we have masturbated thinking about each other. I don’t tell him that. Luckily there’s no time to go in to that subject as I check the clock on my phone.

“Just friends, me and him. I have work.” I bite my lip, nervous now I have no alcohol inside me. Gabriel has this demanding presence, he’s sexy without trying and his eyes are always moving, always watching. He makes me feel naked although I’m currently fully dressed.

“You know, Brendon, I’m sure he’d let you join in next time…” He purrs with a knowing smirk. And with that I’m grabbing my coat and making my way out the door, keys stuffed in my back pocket. Next time? So this is gonna be a regular thing, now? Goddamn it, Saporta.

* * *

I’m not late to work today, for once, a good job too because my boss is one more slip up away from firing my perfect butt and I know it.

I’m restocking the shelves when a voice appears in my ear next to me. As if it came from another galaxy, unexpected, unintroduced and unwanted.

“How much?” a male hand gently strokes over the silk panties in front of us, I stand up to turn around and almost laugh when I meet his eyes. Of course. It’s not a coincidence that he’s here, I’m not stupid, I knew he’d only try harder to talk to me after I turned him down. I had forgotten, however, that he knew my place of work. And now I have a stalker.

“The prices are right there, sir.” I give Ryan Ross a professional, forced smile. I look around, confused. “Who are you buying them for?”

“Haven’t decided that yet.” He grins wide and I almost scoff, shaking my head with a disbelieving look. Does he really think lines like this are going to get me to sleep with him? I’ve gotten good at ignoring the beautiful parts of him now. I always see the good in people and in the past it’s gotten me into trouble. So I definitely do not notice the way his eyes light up when mine meet them or the way he licks across his bottom lip when I speak or the way he smells like the first morning coffee that you’ve been craving since you woke up. No, I don’t notice those things.

“I’ll take them.” He decides, eyeing me up and down, walking in front of me toward the counter and placing the lingerie onto it. I follow him with a roll of my eyes. I ask if he wants them gift wrapped and he nods, they’re a very pretty pair, way out of my price range even with the discount and I use the prettiest wrap we have, tying a ribbon around them before placing them into a bag.

“Thanks, Brendon. Will I see you at Boys/Boys/Boys this weekend?” he says, voice velvety and dripping with something that sounds like pleading as he hands over the cash. I smile at him apologetically because, no, I have a show to do so unfortunately for Ryan Ross he can’t spend this weekend harassing me.

“Actually, my band is performing at Angels and Kings, so you won’t.” I reply, almost triumphantly. I expect his eyes to narrow at that, they widen instead. Shit. Why did I tell him the venue?

“Band huh? You guys good?” he looks as if he’s considering something, eyes bright. I shrug, it’s out first show but I’m definitely not revealing that information to him, jesus. “Well, Boys/Boys/Boys has a talent night on Thursdays. You should audition for this week, we haven’t got anyone to play yet, still a new club, you know…” He presses, writing down his number and putting it into my palm. I’m almost shocked he didn’t give me a business card or something.

“Audition? How?” I raise a brow, meeting his honey eyes briefly before forcing myself to look elsewhere. We need all the shows we can get, even if means performing for egotistical assholes like him. His smile forms into something so much darker than usual and for a second I’m convinced he’s going to make me suck him off.

“Come to my house after work, text me your address, a car will come to collect you and your little bandmates. Be there with whatever instrument you play.” His eyes look me over one last time before he takes his bag and turns to leave, he doesn’t wait for an answer. I watch him in shock, not really knowing how to react to that. I guess I’m going back to his place after all, he won, the bastard.

* * *

“I got us an audition!” I say triumphantly as I walk through our apartment door, stilling as I turn around to Dallon and Gabe in a mess of long limbs on our couch, making out, luckily with all their clothes on.

“Oh, on the couch, really?!” I sigh and pout, a little bit jealous but trying not to show it. This really is going to be a regular thing, my friends and bandmates hooking up. Gabe looks up at me from underneath Dallon and he looks so gone, hands laced in the others hair, lips swollen and parted. I try not to stare at either of them because woah.

“Rich coming from you, sugar…” Dallon chuckles lowly, picking himself up from Gabe and sitting on the couch, fixing his shirt. He looks pretty gone, too, I’ve never seen his pupils so wide and he doesn’t even bother hiding his obvious erection. “An audition?” he continues “With who?” and Gabe looks kind of pouty and needy as he realises that Dallon isn’t going to kiss him for this whole conversation, it’s a side of him I haven’t seen before.

“With Ryan Ross. His driver is picking us up in thirty minutes so I suggest you two finish up and grab your instruments. I’ll get Spencer on the phone.” And I do, luckily he lives in the same apartment building and says he’ll meet us in the lobby with his drums. I go to my room to get my things and I’m grinning ear to ear, how could I not be? Finally our shitty little band that I have invested all my health and sanity to is getting recognition.

I change into something tight, making sure my pants show off my ass and my shirt hugs my curves perfectly. What? A little sucking up won’t hurt, right? I remember that excited glint in Ryan’s eye as he found out about the band and it makes my stomach twist with nerves because he could really hate us. That would be awful.

* * *

Ryan’s driver is called Max, he seems pleasant enough. Very polite, professional and quiet. We ask lots of questions about his boss, none of which he cares to answer. I feel uncomfortable sat inside a car that’s probably worth more than any house I’ve ever lived in. The seats are leather and clean, almost clinically so. I notice the divide that can be pulled between us and Max and wonder why it’s there… my mind can only imagine it’s for privacy so whoever in the car can have sex but then, this car definitely looks too clean for Ryan to have fucked in it.

We’re not in the city any more, I’ve noticed, we are instead driving through an estate of very expensive looking houses, getting bigger and further away from each other the more we drive.

We pull into a gate that opens as soon as the car nears it and my eyes widen at the size of a house on top of a hill, surrounded by beautiful fields of well kept gardens. Trees and flowers bloom out from every direction and yet it still looks neat. It looks creative, extravagant and eccentric. Very Ryan Ross.

My bandmates and I are shocked in to silence as we get out of the car, greeted by a team of staff who collect our instruments from the back of the car and bring them inside as if they’ve been instructed to do so. We follow them up the stairs to the large mansion, my eyes exploring every inch of it they can find. It really is beautiful, at least Ryan isn’t one of those rich people with no taste.

“Brendon! Boys!” an excited voice calls and a couple of giggling girls leave the living room as we enter. I roll my eyes because what is this? The playboy mansion? I give him a shy smile as I watch our instruments being assembled in the middle of the very large room. I try not to flinch as Ryan’s staff touch my guitar, and mic, I spent months of savings on those and no one else has ever laid a finger on them. I bite my lip nervously.

“Ryan…” I say dryly. The other guys are already sucking up to him, fawning over how incredible and artistic his home is. Ryan offers us all a drink which we kindly accept. God knows we need it. Spencer introduces himself and they all play happy families. I sit back, quietly sipping my drink until it’s time to perform.

Ryan seems pleased as I step up to the microphone, I remember that I hadn’t told him what part in the band I have and it seems he has a thing for singers. Doesn’t everyone? I place my guitar gently around my shoulders, brow quirking as an older man comes into the room and sits beside Ryan.

“Hi, We’re Velvetine Ships and firstly, thank you for having us…” I try, it sounds a little forced but I haven’t actually done this before. Shit, I’m shaking, thank God for that drink. If performing in front of two people makes me this nervous I can’t imagine how this weekend is going to feel.

“Lastly, this is a song we wrote and we hope you enjoy.” I say before ducking my head, Spencer counts us in and we begin.

My voice comes out better then I’m expecting as I fight back the nerves, my head is pounding so much that I almost can’t hear myself, but I can and I don’t sound half bad. Dallon and Gabe are playing their bass and guitar to eachother, the instruments almost touching and Spencer is working the drums like I’ve never heard him do so before. Ryan has a pokerface, as does the gentleman sat next to him but we play until our fingers hurt anyway. My hands are shaking and the guitar feels so much heavier but we’re doing it and I think we might just be pulling it off.

I try not to focus on the beautiful eyes staring at me, instead I look at the floor, the very high ceiling, my bandmates, anything but him and hope that I still come across as the charismatic, inviting lead singer that he wants me to be.

* * *

After our last song I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. They’re clapping. Thank fuck for that, I don’t think I could take any more of their serious expressions.

Ryan turns to the other man and they whisper for a short while, nodding, agreeing and humming. “You’re hired.” Ryan informs us and the boys cheer and hug each other. Hug me. My lips just curl up, I’m sweaty, shaky, tired and so happy. I catch Ryan’s eyes and he winks. We’re hired. Two gigs in one week. We’re going somewhere.

* * *

We stay for more drinks, a celebration, Ryan calls it and there’s suddenly so many people in his house, I’m actually shocked. How did he arrange the biggest party I’ve ever been to in only a few minutes?

Gabe and Dallon are making out in the corner, Spencer has a girl either side of him, talking excitedly and I’m at Ryan’s bar. His bar. In his house. I’m chatting to a friendly girl named Keltie before I’m rudely interrupted by the owner of the mansion.

“Your voice is damn gorgeous… this seat taken?” he says, sitting on the bar stool that Keltie quickly vacates for him, she looks disappointed that Ryan isn’t speaking to her. I just nod, I can’t exactly tell him to fuck off considering the circumstances, can I?

“Thanks.” I try not to blush, I’m not used to compliments on my singing, I wonder if I’ll get any more now we’re actually doing gigs, it felt nice, I hope so. “Who was the guy you were with?”

“My advisor… uncle.” Ryan corrects. Oh. Weird. “Yeah, when my parents died I inherited everything, they left it all to me, the money, the businesses…” I’m taken aback, fuck, he doesn’t seem upset but that’s a big thing to just… spring on me. What the fuck, man? “It’s fine.” He tries, noticing the shift of emotion in my eyes. “I was very young, so my uncle became my advisor… tells me what I should do and what I shouldn’t. Kind of like a teacher but I’ve left school now and he still doesn’t fuck off. I don’t do a lot, though, we have staff for that and when I’m lonely he sends girls to the house. Never boys, though.” Ryan looks a little pissed off as he talks about his uncle and what the fuck, this guy’s life is beyond anything I’m used to.

“Actually, can we maybe… can we discuss this in private?” He says and I notice a pair of eyes is watching us. His uncle’s eyes. I follow him into the gardens, not only do I want to make a good impression but now he’s guilt tripped me. Plus, his face get’s prettier and prettier the drunker I get.

“Yeah, so, that’s me. It’s not a hard life most of the time… I uh, it does get lonely though. Talking to you at the bar last night made me realise that I don’t actually have any friends. The girls come and go but they don’t really want me, they’re paid to speak to me… kind of fucked up really. And I meet people when I’m out, kiss pretty men behind my uncles back… but they all know who I am, they’re all suck ups who want my money too. You ignore and deny me time and time again, it’s great.” I quirk an eyebrow because honestly, Ryan’s idea of great is pretty… interesting. I never expected him to be such an honest person but I like this side of him. It makes him seem less of an asshole, kind of.

“Stay…” and that? That takes me off guard. We’re stood on his patio and I am pressed against the marble fence that comes to our waists, the garden below us, connected to the patio with a winding staircase.

He looks pretty in the moonlight, it shines off him in all the right places and oh… he’s moving closer. His mouth is parted and I find myself leaning in too. I feel the kiss in my veins, he feels so good, he’s well practised. His hands search my body whilst his tongue searches my mouth and he pulls me closer, urgent for something. Anything. He fists my hair and pulls me in and I moan, surprised at how my body reacts, so dirty and willing, pressing up against him as he backs me against the marble. My spine is tingling and I’m shaking for the second time tonight, he tastes incredible, amaretto and smoke and something sweet that must just be him.

We’re panting when we pull apart.

“I’m not staying…” I breathe out. Because I won’t, he’s not getting me this easily, I barely know him. I press another sweet kiss to his lips and he tries to pull me close again but I don’t let him. I give him a smile and walk back inside.

[brallonsin]

http://beeisatthedisco.livejournal.com/1459.html

Chapter 4

I don’t go home with Ryan, much to his disappointment. The nerve of that guy. He comes over, throwing his money around, offering me drinks, telling me how he owns the bar, sharing his fancy, amazing weed as if it’s going to make me turn around and go home with him. I almost did, but not for those reasons. He looked genuinely pissed off and the thought crossed my mind that he’s probably used to getting his way. I try not to laugh.

I wake up in my own bed, luckily, smiling at the comfort of my surroundings, taking in the walls covered in musicians, Bowie, The Smiths, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, my favourite men all staring back at me. My bed is soft and I decide to stay in it a little while longer, to sink back into the sheets and dwell of last night with embarrassment. All the flirting, the hip swaying, the grinding. I need to get laid.

After my shower, I decide to play my guitar, I have twenty minutes or so to kill before work and I need to practise as much as I can for our gig next week, just in case there’s any talent scouts, you know? This might be my big break. I only stop playing as I hear a voice harmonising with mine on the other side of my bedroom door.

I’m not surprised when I find a half naked Gabe at our table eating breakfast, but it doesn’t stop my eyes taking in his glowing body, his golden torso up to his sparkling smile and it’s obvious what he got up too last night. He’s dripping of sex.

“Dallon’s gone to work.” he acknowledges me. He looks like he had a headache and again, I’m not surprised. Gabe’s an undeniably handsome man, his lips tilt up at one corner, curling into a smile as I take him in. He’s looking at me like he know’s what I’m thinking.

“Yes, we had sex. Dal’s damn good, has he ever fucked you?” my eyes flicker to a hickey on Gabe’s neck and huh. I didn’t take Dallon as the dominant type. That’s… that’s good to know. I realise I haven’t answered as the other man begins to tap his foot impatiently, dark eyes watching me.

“Oh! No…” I practically spit out. Because no, of course not, we have masturbated thinking about each other. I don’t tell him that. Luckily there’s no time to go in to that subject as I check the clock on my phone.

“Just friends, me and him. I have work.” I bite my lip, nervous now I have no alcohol inside me. Gabriel has this demanding presence, he’s sexy without trying and his eyes are always moving, always watching. He makes me feel naked although I’m currently fully dressed.

“You know, Brendon, I’m sure he’d let you join in next time…” He purrs with a knowing smirk. And with that I’m grabbing my coat and making my way out the door, keys stuffed in my back pocket. Next time? So this is gonna be a regular thing, now? Goddamn it, Saporta.

* * *

I’m not late to work today, for once, a good job too because my boss is one more slip up away from firing my perfect butt and I know it.

I’m restocking the shelves when a voice appears in my ear next to me. As if it came from another galaxy, unexpected, unintroduced and unwanted.

“How much?” a male hand gently strokes over the silk panties in front of us, I stand up to turn around and almost laugh when I meet his eyes. Of course. It’s not a coincidence that he’s here, I’m not stupid, I knew he’d only try harder to talk to me after I turned him down. I had forgotten, however, that he knew my place of work. And now I have a stalker.

“The prices are right there, sir.” I give Ryan Ross a professional, forced smile. I look around, confused. “Who are you buying them for?”

“Haven’t decided that yet.” He grins wide and I almost scoff, shaking my head with a disbelieving look. Does he really think lines like this are going to get me to sleep with him? I’ve gotten good at ignoring the beautiful parts of him now. I always see the good in people and in the past it’s gotten me into trouble. So I definitely do not notice the way his eyes light up when mine meet them or the way he licks across his bottom lip when I speak or the way he smells like the first morning coffee that you’ve been craving since you woke up. No, I don’t notice those things.

“I’ll take them.” He decides, eyeing me up and down, walking in front of me toward the counter and placing the lingerie onto it. I follow him with a roll of my eyes. I ask if he wants them gift wrapped and he nods, they’re a very pretty pair, way out of my price range even with the discount and I use the prettiest wrap we have, tying a ribbon around them before placing them into a bag.

“Thanks, Brendon. Will I see you at Boys/Boys/Boys this weekend?” he says, voice velvety and dripping with something that sounds like pleading as he hands over the cash. I smile at him apologetically because, no, I have a show to do so unfortunately for Ryan Ross he can’t spend this weekend harassing me.

“Actually, my band is performing at Angels and Kings, so you won’t.” I reply, almost triumphantly. I expect his eyes to narrow at that, they widen instead. Shit. Why did I tell him the venue?

“Band huh? You guys good?” he looks as if he’s considering something, eyes bright. I shrug, it’s out first show but I’m definitely not revealing that information to him, jesus. “Well, Boys/Boys/Boys has a talent night on Thursdays. You should audition for this week, we haven’t got anyone to play yet, still a new club, you know…” He presses, writing down his number and putting it into my palm. I’m almost shocked he didn’t give me a business card or something.

“Audition? How?” I raise a brow, meeting his honey eyes briefly before forcing myself to look elsewhere. We need all the shows we can get, even if means performing for egotistical assholes like him. His smile forms into something so much darker than usual and for a second I’m convinced he’s going to make me suck him off.

“Come to my house after work, text me your address, a car will come to collect you and your little bandmates. Be there with whatever instrument you play.” His eyes look me over one last time before he takes his bag and turns to leave, he doesn’t wait for an answer. I watch him in shock, not really knowing how to react to that. I guess I’m going back to his place after all, he won, the bastard.

* * *

“I got us an audition!” I say triumphantly as I walk through our apartment door, stilling as I turn around to Dallon and Gabe in a mess of long limbs on our couch, making out, luckily with all their clothes on.

“Oh, on the couch, really?!” I sigh and pout, a little bit jealous but trying not to show it. This really is going to be a regular thing, my friends and bandmates hooking up. Gabe looks up at me from underneath Dallon and he looks so gone, hands laced in the others hair, lips swollen and parted. I try not to stare at either of them because woah.

“Rich coming from you, sugar…” Dallon chuckles lowly, picking himself up from Gabe and sitting on the couch, fixing his shirt. He looks pretty gone, too, I’ve never seen his pupils so wide and he doesn’t even bother hiding his obvious erection. “An audition?” he continues “With who?” and Gabe looks kind of pouty and needy as he realises that Dallon isn’t going to kiss him for this whole conversation, it’s a side of him I haven’t seen before.

“With Ryan Ross. His driver is picking us up in thirty minutes so I suggest you two finish up and grab your instruments. I’ll get Spencer on the phone.” And I do, luckily he lives in the same apartment building and says he’ll meet us in the lobby with his drums. I go to my room to get my things and I’m grinning ear to ear, how could I not be? Finally our shitty little band that I have invested all my health and sanity to is getting recognition.

I change into something tight, making sure my pants show off my ass and my shirt hugs my curves perfectly. What? A little sucking up won’t hurt, right? I remember that excited glint in Ryan’s eye as he found out about the band and it makes my stomach twist with nerves because he could really hate us. That would be awful.

* * *

Ryan’s driver is called Max, he seems pleasant enough. Very polite, professional and quiet. We ask lots of questions about his boss, none of which he cares to answer. I feel uncomfortable sat inside a car that’s probably worth more than any house I’ve ever lived in. The seats are leather and clean, almost clinically so. I notice the divide that can be pulled between us and Max and wonder why it’s there… my mind can only imagine it’s for privacy so whoever in the car can have sex but then, this car definitely looks too clean for Ryan to have fucked in it.

We’re not in the city any more, I’ve noticed, we are instead driving through an estate of very expensive looking houses, getting bigger and further away from each other the more we drive.

We pull into a gate that opens as soon as the car nears it and my eyes widen at the size of a house on top of a hill, surrounded by beautiful fields of well kept gardens. Trees and flowers bloom out from every direction and yet it still looks neat. It looks creative, extravagant and eccentric. Very Ryan Ross.

My bandmates and I are shocked in to silence as we get out of the car, greeted by a team of staff who collect our instruments from the back of the car and bring them inside as if they’ve been instructed to do so. We follow them up the stairs to the large mansion, my eyes exploring every inch of it they can find. It really is beautiful, at least Ryan isn’t one of those rich people with no taste.

“Brendon! Boys!” an excited voice calls and a couple of giggling girls leave the living room as we enter. I roll my eyes because what is this? The playboy mansion? I give him a shy smile as I watch our instruments being assembled in the middle of the very large room. I try not to flinch as Ryan’s staff touch my guitar, and mic, I spent months of savings on those and no one else has ever laid a finger on them. I bite my lip nervously.

“Ryan…” I say dryly. The other guys are already sucking up to him, fawning over how incredible and artistic his home is. Ryan offers us all a drink which we kindly accept. God knows we need it. Spencer introduces himself and they all play happy families. I sit back, quietly sipping my drink until it’s time to perform.

Ryan seems pleased as I step up to the microphone, I remember that I hadn’t told him what part in the band I have and it seems he has a thing for singers. Doesn’t everyone? I place my guitar gently around my shoulders, brow quirking as an older man comes into the room and sits beside Ryan.

“Hi, We’re Velvetine Ships and firstly, thank you for having us…” I try, it sounds a little forced but I haven’t actually done this before. Shit, I’m shaking, thank God for that drink. If performing in front of two people makes me this nervous I can’t imagine how this weekend is going to feel.

“Lastly, this is a song we wrote and we hope you enjoy.” I say before ducking my head, Spencer counts us in and we begin.

My voice comes out better then I’m expecting as I fight back the nerves, my head is pounding so much that I almost can’t hear myself, but I can and I don’t sound half bad. Dallon and Gabe are playing their bass and guitar to eachother, the instruments almost touching and Spencer is working the drums like I’ve never heard him do so before. Ryan has a pokerface, as does the gentleman sat next to him but we play until our fingers hurt anyway. My hands are shaking and the guitar feels so much heavier but we’re doing it and I think we might just be pulling it off.

I try not to focus on the beautiful eyes staring at me, instead I look at the floor, the very high ceiling, my bandmates, anything but him and hope that I still come across as the charismatic, inviting lead singer that he wants me to be.

* * *

After our last song I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. They’re clapping. Thank fuck for that, I don’t think I could take any more of their serious expressions.

Ryan turns to the other man and they whisper for a short while, nodding, agreeing and humming. “You’re hired.” Ryan informs us and the boys cheer and hug each other. Hug me. My lips just curl up, I’m sweaty, shaky, tired and so happy. I catch Ryan’s eyes and he winks. We’re hired. Two gigs in one week. We’re going somewhere.

* * *

We stay for more drinks, a celebration, Ryan calls it and there’s suddenly so many people in his house, I’m actually shocked. How did he arrange the biggest party I’ve ever been to in only a few minutes?

Gabe and Dallon are making out in the corner, Spencer has a girl either side of him, talking excitedly and I’m at Ryan’s bar. His bar. In his house. I’m chatting to a friendly girl named Keltie before I’m rudely interrupted by the owner of the mansion.

“Your voice is damn gorgeous… this seat taken?” he says, sitting on the bar stool that Keltie quickly vacates for him, she looks disappointed that Ryan isn’t speaking to her. I just nod, I can’t exactly tell him to fuck off considering the circumstances, can I?

“Thanks.” I try not to blush, I’m not used to compliments on my singing, I wonder if I’ll get any more now we’re actually doing gigs, it felt nice, I hope so. “Who was the guy you were with?”

“My advisor… uncle.” Ryan corrects. Oh. Weird. “Yeah, when my parents died I inherited everything, they left it all to me, the money, the businesses…” I’m taken aback, fuck, he doesn’t seem upset but that’s a big thing to just… spring on me. What the fuck, man? “It’s fine.” He tries, noticing the shift of emotion in my eyes. “I was very young, so my uncle became my advisor… tells me what I should do and what I shouldn’t. Kind of like a teacher but I’ve left school now and he still doesn’t fuck off. I don’t do a lot, though, we have staff for that and when I’m lonely he sends girls to the house. Never boys, though.” Ryan looks a little pissed off as he talks about his uncle and what the fuck, this guy’s life is beyond anything I’m used to.

“Actually, can we maybe… can we discuss this in private?” He says and I notice a pair of eyes is watching us. His uncle’s eyes. I follow him into the gardens, not only do I want to make a good impression but now he’s guilt tripped me. Plus, his face get’s prettier and prettier the drunker I get.

“Yeah, so, that’s me. It’s not a hard life most of the time… I uh, it does get lonely though. Talking to you at the bar last night made me realise that I don’t actually have any friends. The girls come and go but they don’t really want me, they’re paid to speak to me… kind of fucked up really. And I meet people when I’m out, kiss pretty men behind my uncles back… but they all know who I am, they’re all suck ups who want my money too. You ignore and deny me time and time again, it’s great.” I quirk an eyebrow because honestly, Ryan’s idea of great is pretty… interesting. I never expected him to be such an honest person but I like this side of him. It makes him seem less of an asshole, kind of.

“Stay…” and that? That takes me off guard. We’re stood on his patio and I am pressed against the marble fence that comes to our waists, the garden below us, connected to the patio with a winding staircase.

He looks pretty in the moonlight, it shines off him in all the right places and oh… he’s moving closer. His mouth is parted and I find myself leaning in too. I feel the kiss in my veins, he feels so good, he’s well practised. His hands search my body whilst his tongue searches my mouth and he pulls me closer, urgent for something. Anything. He fists my hair and pulls me in and I moan, surprised at how my body reacts, so dirty and willing, pressing up against him as he backs me against the marble. My spine is tingling and I’m shaking for the second time tonight, he tastes incredible, amaretto and smoke and something sweet that must just be him.

We’re panting when we pull apart.

“I’m not staying…” I breathe out. Because I won’t, he’s not getting me this easily, I barely know him. I press another sweet kiss to his lips and he tries to pull me close again but I don’t let him. I give him a smile and walk back inside.