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writing-in-april · 3 years

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Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (2/?)

Part two: Caught

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After reader’s first introduction to Spencer she can’t wait for the next meeting and tries to look for him.

Part One, Part Three

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys!!! This is my final fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! Plus this is part two to my new series 🥰 I’m like so excited for this guys I’ve got so much planned for this one!! Thanks again to @spencers-dria who came up with the way I started out this story 😘 and @andiebeaword who gave me the prompt that spiraled into a series!!! Let me know how y’all like this series so far 🥰 also I will be mass accepting the rest of the requests for my 30 fics in 30 days tomorrow so be warned for a bunch for posts lol and I’ll be making a Masterlist for this series as well- maybe with a cute moodboard?? Thanks for reading guys!!!

Warnings: 18+, Speculation on how dark Spencer can be, mentions of kidnapping, Dom Spencer, Public sex (of course), Fingering, Use of the nickname Doctor, Slight size kink, Muffling, Spencer gives Reader a nickname at the end (I won’t spoil it 😉)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.6k

Ever since the last meeting you had been itching to lay your eyes on Dr. Reid. Even though you could have waited until next month when there’s another book meeting happening, with a new theme, your impatience was not having it.

The library that housed the book club and apparently now any of your interactions with the mystery man had never been frequented as much by you- until now.

Everyday after work now you stopped by to try and find him. You did other stuff there for sure, making your way through a full fantasy series while you kept your eyes peeled for his fluffy hair. Sometimes you did walk through the shelves that were stacked high with every book you thought imaginable just to maybe get a peak at him, or maybe speak to him if you were lucky.

You felt like you were both dancing around each other, never touching or even getting close enough to speak. But, a little look of his curls, a spot of his mesmerizing eyes, or a glimpse of his cardigan assured you that he was there.

You were sure he had to have seen you just as you had seen him at some point. Maybe he only wanted to see you during your book club or maybe he was done with you after that one time in the empty room.

Seeing him without half of his face covered seemed to make the shroud of mystery surrounding him get pulled back further. That however didn’t change the fact that you barely knew the man that danced between the shelves. You had called him by his earned prefix more than his real name and even then it was only his last name with the earned prefix attached that had slipped between your lips.

It was not like you did not know his first name, you had heard his full name with his title attached when he had first introduced himself to you, albeit behind that mask of mystery. And, even with his physical mask removed even with one look it would be obvious to anyone that there was an invisible mask still covering most of him.

There was this strange pull towards him that you could not explain. You felt like Christine being entranced by the phantom, his twisted face or in this case his soul behind the mask not shocking me away. You still hoped I was not dealt with a man that was as demented as Christine’s phantom. You could take a damaged man, not a kidnapper along with whatever other things the phantom of the opera had done to Christine. With one look at his face he hooked you in, perhaps unintentionally. But, if it was intentional and his bad didn’t squash the good in the end you didn’t mind at all.

Your feelings teetered on a precarious edge, you’d willingly take the plunge off if he’d just give you a peak at what was underneath. It all hinged on whether or not he’d let you take a look. He’d given you a taste of his Dr. Jekyll plus a little of his Mr. Hyde, but it left you nowhere in determining who Spencer was underneath.

Spencer- that was the first time you had even thought of his first name by itself without a prefix attached. You wondered how good it would sound if you let it stop dancing on the edge of your lips and let it slip out.

The ghost of his name danced on your lips precariously at the edge just like you were, so close to being whispered out. Only the pages of old books would hear you, there was no harm in saying his name. It was only a name after all.

Even though it was just a name made up of two syllables it was stuck on your tongue like it was one of the hardest words to pronounce. Your lips did finally speak in the softest whisper when you finally managed to stomp out your hesitation, “Spencer-“

“You called?” A gasp left you, way too loud to be appropriate in the library, but then again you had already bucked many of this library’s rules. You whipped around to face the voice that you recognized instantly as you had been closing your eyes tight every night trying to remember his voice and picture what he had done to you.

Seeing him without the mask up close, not through quick glances when you caught his fugue from afar was somehow more intriguing to you than when he wore the mask two weeks ago. When you did not come up with a response for at least a minute, he cut through the somewhat awkward silence, “What book are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” That was an honest answer from you, you had other motives for hiding between these shelves.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline clearly spotting your skittish behavior. You thought you were a good liar too, you wondered how it was so easy for him to read you. It made you feel vulnerable considering you couldn’t get a read on anything about him, besides the basics. Maybe you were just a bad liar and he was a master at it. “So you were just browsing? In the nonfiction section- specifically in the ancient and medieval philosophy section?”

His questions flustered you even more. It was like he knew that you had spotted him once in this very spot speeding through a stack of books a mile high while sitting cross legged on the floor. You would admit you stood there in awe for a moment to admire the way his fingers slipped down the page to track what sentence that he was on at an inhuman pace. You had been too shy to approach him that day, even though it was a perfect opportunity to do so, mostly because you were intimidated by how fast he seemed to be reading. Though later you thought maybe he had just been skimming to find what interested him, you wish you were brave enough to ask. That was why you had been loitering in the last spot you had your last chance to speak with him. It was possible he had already spotted you from your staring. Your voice shook a little as denied, having no suitable white lie to say, “No…”

“Not interested in philosophy then, no Plato for you??” He knew you were here before, watching him, his tone made it obvious.You shook your head from side to side slowly with your breath held tightly in his chest. He looked away from you for a moment to glaze over the spines of the books ordered by the Dewey Decimal System, maybe looking for something that sparked his own interest. It was only a small moment that his gaze wasn’t fixated at you, but you still felt like whining at him to get his attention back onto you. Luckily, you did not have to make such a sound as his pupils fixated back onto yours before he spoke again, “I thought so, you seem more like a fiction lover.”

“You’d be correct.” You confirmed, still barely breathing.

Your breathing wavered when he moved a little closer, if you hadn’t been paying such close attention to every minute moment he made, you might have missed it. The warmth of him was closer than it had been since the last time he had touched you, the desire for him was urging you to pull him in to touch him. Last time he had initiated every touch. his hands were closest to you, with nimble fingers that could work you over the edge skillfully and you knew that from experience. His head cocked to the side with eyebrows in question pulling you away from your daydream about pulling him in with your touch. He cleared his throat, then questioned you, his voice dropping down a bit, “So, if you weren’t looking for a specific book and you weren’t just browsing for a new one- what are you doing here in this section?”

“N-nothing…” A stutter still escaped you despite your best efforts.

It seemed like he was circling you like a hawk over head, though you wanted to be caught up in his claws. A little yelp of surprise escaped you when he suddenly grabbed your wrist rather tightly and yanked you forward towards him. You stumbled slightly into his chest, but you were quickly stabilized by him pushing you back into the shelves.

You were getting whiplashed again from his transition from delicate to sharp when he carefully put both wrists into one hand, then pinning them above your head. Your jaw was dropped down in shock and you almost stammered out another reply when he hit the nail on the head as to what your intentions were, “Were you looking for me?” At first you gave no response, but he pulled one out of you by sharply commanding you, “Answer me!”

“Yes!”

His lips were on you in a familiar fashion, harsh, almost enough to where your lips might bruise a little. When he bit your lip rather hard, you thought that there was definitely a chance that the bruise would form or at least it would be swollen. You loved it though, letting him guide the kiss to make it as rough as he wanted. When he separated his lips from you, you went to open your mouth to protest, but was cut off by a harsh shush from him that would make the librarian proud.

Each of the shelves you were pressed into pinched painfully, not that you cared all that much. You were more focused on the man who was now unbuttoning the front of the jeans you wore. On the inside you were cursing yourself for not wearing a skirt so he could’ve had easier access, it’s not like he could have stripped you down out of them- even if you wanted him to.

You’d both have to settle with your pants being pulled down to the tops of your thighs, he did leave the panties pulled up though, for the moment at least.

His other hand still held your wrists firmly while he started to tease by rubbing slow circles to your clit through your panties. When you tried to buck your hips into his hand you were punished by putting one of his thighs between your own and pushing what felt like his full weight onto you. There was no way you could move underneath him, even if you tried squirming he had you pinned to the too firmly shelves like a piece of art hanging on the walls.

All you could do was try to beg for what you wanted, “Please, pull them down.”

“But, I like seeing you in them.” He looked down at you with his eyes that looked like black pools because of the mood lighting in the library. You whimpered again, but cut you off by saying. “If you want me to oblige you, maybe you should ask me nicely and use the name you know you’re supposed to use.”

You knew exactly what title he was referring to, it had been ingrained in your mind after the last time. Part of you wanted to use a similar comeback of last time and call him Mister instead, or maybe even dare speak his first name again. On the other hand, your legs were shaking from being just simply teased a little. You had been looking forward to having him touch you like this again, and if you did not comply there was a chance his punishment for you would be taking away all touch.

“Please- Doctor, please pull them down.” Your volume was undoubtedly much too loud for the normally dead silent library. You were confident that you would not be caught just like last time, this was a scarcely traveled area, plus the librarian was farthest away from here. There had been another motive for picking this area to try to spot the morally gray doctor.

Instead of pulling your panties down, he ripped them off of you. The tearing of the seam echoed off the shelves along with your gasp. Even if you had really liked the pair, it was too hot to really be angry for him ripping them apart. And- when he stuffed them in his pocket a sharp spike of arousal ripples through your core. You could even still see the wet spot you had created on them despite the rip before he had shoved them into his pocket.

When his hand returned to your core you mewled desperately. He returned his nimble fingers to rubbing circles into your clit, this time a little bit faster than before and with a bit more pressure. You had to bite down onto your lip when he started alternating the circles with pinching your clit, knowing that the sharp cries that wanted to escape would be too loud for the librarian to miss, despite being far away from her.

“Do you want my fingers inside you?” He asked gruffly- as if I’d refuse having his long fingers crooked inside me, dragging across my g spot.

You didn’t need him to prompt you to say “Yes, please Doctor!” You were becoming easy for him to bend to his will, just to get another taste of his touch on your body. Maybe next time, if there was one like you hoped, perhaps if you were not so desperate for him to bring you to your peak, you’d smart off to him again. After all, from what little that you had experienced as a punishment from him like last time, you knew you’d enjoy it.

The smirk on his face told you that he was pleased with your eager submission to him. He pushed your head to the side slightly with his own to suck a hickey at the underside of your ear then nibbling slightly up the shell of it, “Good girl.”

Your eyes rolled back farther than you thought possible when he spoke, plus the added sensation of him plunging his fingers into your dripping hole added to that as well. The thrusts of his fingers were slower than you expected, as if he did not care that time may be of the essence, that anybody could walk by soon. Curling them upwards on one swift motion helped him easily find that perfect spot inside you which made your body try to squirm underneath his grip again. As you squirmed you could feel his hard bulge pressing into you making your mouth water and you drip down your thighs even more. Despite wanting to grind into it more he reaffirmed his grip and started to plunge his fingers into you faster. Your eyes shut tight at the onslaught of pleasure.

“No- look at me while I’m doing this to you.” Wrenching your eyes open with effort you followed his command, locking his eyes with yours. His eyes entranced you, you could almost feel the dark hooks pulling you in impossibly closer. Those hooks were pushing you towards the edge of your orgasm as well.

“Can I cum pleassse-“ You gasped almost too late as you were having trouble staving off your release, you didn’t know if you could handle him holding it off at all, “Doctor?!”

“Come on, cum for me- only for me, you’ve been really good for me.” A man being possessive towards you would normally have your orgasm fall away quickly- but when he said it your orgasm snapped through you on command. Your hands fell limp at your sides as he released his steel grip on them to clasp his hand around your mouth to quiet the noise that you tried, and failed, to stifle.

He had you still almost fully pinned down as you rode the waves of your orgasm out. You gripped the shelves with your free hands tightly, trying to hold onto something. You’d touch him, but there was the unspoken rule to not touch him without permission hanging in the air.

He let you come up for air once you had finished by removing his hand from your mouth, along with the one from your pants. He also tried to move you off of his thigh so you could stand, but your shaky legs would not allow you to do so, still weak from the force of your orgasm.

He only pulled away from you when a small thud was heard that judging by the source of the sound, was somewhat close to where you both were. He helped you button your pants back up, it felt kind of weird to wear them without your panties. The reminder of him stuffing them into his pockets still outweighed the discomfort.

Your whole being was probably much more disheveled than he was, there was only a slight cock to the right with his tie, that he quickly fixed. He then leaned, capturing you in a kiss that was much softer than any others he had given you. It did not feel like a goodbye kiss, more like see you soon.

“Until next time, Shelley.” His words that were whispered like a ghost on your lips, it was the quietest thing he had said throughout today’s dalliance. He almost seemed afraid. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the nickname, knowing it came from the time that you first had encountered him. It made him seem even closer to you than you had thought, him giving you the nickname made you feel somewhat claimed by him. Hopefully this was not all in your head.

“Until next time- Spencer.” You hesitated a little before saying his given name. You already had a nickname for him, one that seemed less intimate than the one he gave to you. Calling him by his first name seemed like a way that you could express similar thoughts without spilling all your guts to him.

Once the butterflies had faded a little you realized that he had not let you reciprocate any pleasure. You wanted to chase him back down through the library, get down on your knees and take his cock into your mouth until you swallowed his cum. There must have been a reason though, why he did not let you reciprocate. You hoped he was just busy and that at the next meeting in two weeks time, he’d let you take him into your mouth.

You yearned to touch him rather than to have him touch you. The thought of running your hands through his hair slowly enough to appreciate every wave and curl sent butterflies a flight in your stomach. Would he ever let you get that close? Close enough to study every curve of him in earnest instead of being pinned against something in a way where you could only appreciate a part of him. However much you felt desire being stoked whenever he took control over you, pinned you like he did, the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of exploring him with your own hands was too much to ignore. You just wanted to explore every inch of him with no semblance of time, no rush to be somewhere else, just to examine every part good or bad.

You’d have to tiptoe close, dance around him like he did with you until he let you see truly what both sides of him were behind the mask.

You still hardly knew the man before you, the one that was retreating away from you, sadly. Today had felt like your first glimpse into something more, mostly his good side. Dr. Jekyll was the one that you had seen the most of, but you could deny your desire to see every part of him, that thought had not wavered. There was that dark part of him that remainder hidden under the mask, if he showed it to you would you know him? Or would it just deepen the mystery of which is his dominant side- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? And even though you were undoubtedly curious to see every facet of what made the morally gray doctor you could help but fear whether or not you’d like everything that you’d see.

Part One , Part Three| Series Masterlist

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Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Dr. Jekyll or Mr.Hyde: @rainsong01

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds series #spencer reid series #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??),

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream. Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream. This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating. It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it? The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous. That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once. You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now. Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself. Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged. Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise. You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse. Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal. This is fantasy, not reality. You barely know each other. Your divorce isn’t final. Your divorce. Isn’t. Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti. “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside. “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses. However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon. “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute. Soon.” You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look. He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant. “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned. “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian. It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough. Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking? Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain. It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously. “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar. We clean our floors with it.” You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal. “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test. Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds. But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable. “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud. “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me. You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways. Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh. It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be. Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways. Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over. “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.” You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly. “Oh, he’d hate this. He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided. “He’s not here. If he wanted to find me, he would. And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern. Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore. Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real. It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long. He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat. Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence. When you looked up, he was pointing at your book. “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that. My book, uh, it’s good.” You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover. “On the Road? Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued. “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying. He smiled and got back to his own reading. Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read. You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated. The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth. You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths. When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire. You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly. Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe. He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too. Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again. Wasn’t he cold in this weather?! Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned. Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you. “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker. Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster. Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out. “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his. You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah. Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest. He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down. “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious. It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory. There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp. Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings. No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly. The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room. You opened the door. He shut it behind you.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Seven

Word Count: 5.2K+

Author’s Note: I KNOW THE GIF IS FROM EPISODE ONE BUT I WANTED TO USE IT EARLIER AND FORGOT SO HAVE IT NOW INSTEAD!!! And I couldn’t find the time to make my own gif of Luke in that suit today so you’ll get it tomorrow with the finale. Also, I am genuinely concerned for Willie in the real show so I did us all a favour and changed a thing or two.

Warning: threatening language, more jolts, sad stuff.

Linkaroonies - One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Masterlist and Y/N Moodboard.

The plan wasn’t exactly simple… But desperate times call for desperate measures, and the band really had no other choice.

After Julie’s rousing speech the night before, planning quickly began: what the boys had been struggling over for a week was quickly solved when they were reminded by Julie of their number one strength. Being ghosts. And after Willie stopped by to check in and promised to get rid of the opening act for Panic! At The Disco overnight, and after he assured them no-one would be hurt, maimed, or made into a ghost themselves in the process, he vanished and promised to report back by morning.

It’s how Alex, Reggie and Luke found themselves standing outside the Orpheum the next day, impatient in their wait for Willie’s return while Julie paced her way around the studio at home.

“Look, don’t worry guys, Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex assured, his eyes travelling up to the neon blue sign.

“This gonna work, right?” Reggie asked, glancing over at his bandmates, his brothers, with a look of worry. They were riding on Willie’s help, and after he disappeared last night, all that was left for them to do was plan a show that might not happen.

“It has too.” Luke said with a sigh, before all three of them were suddenly hit with another jolt. It sent them doubling over, the pain getting more intense and more frequent the closer they seemed to come to the week’s end – they were on a deadline.

“Hey, you guys ok?” A voice asked behind them, Willie appearing out of the thin air, quickly looking around himself as if someone was missing. He seemed confused, but quickly looked back to the three guys in front of him.

“Yeah.” Alex answered after the trio shared a glance. “Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before… How’d it go?” He asked, and Willie smiled.

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas with no chance of getting back in time.” Willie turned to show the jacket he had nabbed from the band that was meant to be supporting P!ATD that night, turning back around and receiving a fist bump from Luke. Another whoosh sounded from behind Willie, Luke’s smile immediately fading away while Alex and Reggie looked surprised.

“You know, that means there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freaking out.” Y/N smiled, Willie looking at her with a proud expression. “Hey Reggie.” She said with a wave of her fingers, the boy waving back. “Alex.” She nodded. “… Denim. Like the fleece.” She complimented, earning a snicker from Alex, who quickly stopped with a glance at Luke…

He had never seen him look so angry.

“What is she doing here?” Luke asked Willie, only to be interrupted by a jangle of keys, the item finally through the air and forcing Luke to instinctively catch them. A set of keys, and by the stickers and keyring, it seemed like they were the keys for the tour bus currently stuck in the middle of the desert.

“I told you last night I wanted to help… And Willie can’t drive. Not as well as I can anyway.” She explained herself quickly, and it became clear why Willie was so pleased: Y/N seemed to have switched sides.

“Thanks, Y/N…” Reggie said after a moment, earning a scowl from Luke. “What? She helped!” He defended himself, and Y/N just smiled at the bassist.

“It’s alright Reg.” She promised. “I wouldn’t be forgiving me either…” Y/N’s eyes fell to the ground, her shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. “The things you’ll do for family, right?” She muttered, loud enough for only Luke to really hear. It left him confused for a moment, not quite sure what she meant, and the silence that followed was quickly broken by Willie.

“You, know, I might have to disagree, Y/N. From what I’ve seen, Hollywood promoters are super chill in the face of… Problems.” Willie said with a chuckle, and Y/N smiled softly, bringing up a hand and messing with his hair.

“Good luck tonight, guys… I mean that.” She said with a final glance at the boys before her, all looking a little more hopeful than the night before, before disappearing into the air. Alex took a few steps forward to Willie once the air had settled again, pulling him aside from Reggie and Luke, who quickly caught on and backed away a little.

“I know…” Alex paused, taking a breath, clasping and unclasping his hands. “How much you’re risking…” His eyes finally met Willie’s, who was smiling bright and sweet. “Thank you, Willie.”

“I told you, I’d do anything for you.” Willie responded with a shrug, meaning the words he spoke. Alex hesitated for a moment, almost tempted to end it there, but his heart got the better of him, pulling Willie into a tight hug.

They held onto each other for a moment, Alex knowing that if something went wrong, it might just be the last time he got to see the skater. Willie was quick to hug back, his head going into the crook of Alex’s neck, his eyes closing as he breathed in, trying to retain Alex’s faint smell of dust and old cologne.

“Right…” Alex pulled away first, patting Willie’s shoulder before taking a step back, clearing his throat. “You uh… You’d better get out of here before Caleb catches you with us.”

“Yeah…” Willie nodded, a poof of air landing his skateboard in his hands. “I’ll see you around, hot dog.” He smiled, and Alex smiled back for a moment: it’s the first time Willie had used the nickname since the club, since all this chaos began.

Willie dropped his board to the ground, Alex watching him skate away as his friends came back to his side, Reggie placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Alex, you all right, man?” He asked, genuinely concerned, but Alex shrugged him off and nodded, turning to face his bandmates with a small smile, sad in nature.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Well…” Luke started. “Thanks to Willie, Panic! At The Disco needs an opening band.” The attention was brought back to the job at hand, Luke ignoring Reggie’s addition of “And Y/N…”.

“Then I guess someone up there needs to know we’re available.” Alex smiled, his friends smiling right back as they poofed away in unison, only to land two storeys above in an office, where a very angry man was shouting down a phone.

“Stop… Stop saying the bus drove itself!” The man yelled, banging the phone against the desk in the hope to release some of his frustration, while his assistant watched on with a sigh.

“Yeah, Willie was right… This guy’s a total pro.” Reggie whispered, the sarcasm clear, and earning a chuckle from a decreasingly less grumpy Luke.

“All right, boys. Let the magic happen.” Luke announced, before feigning a stern expression. “Alex, no dancing!” He commanded, prompting the blond boy to jump and raise his arms like a ballerina.

Alex danced his way over to the far side of the assistant’s desk with poise and grace that left both Reggie and Luke near tears from laughter as they followed him. With a twirl a flick of his wrist, Alex knocked a pencil holder to the floor, and in a mad rush of Alex writing and Luke directing Reggie in finding their YouTube video from the week before, the boys stepped back as the assistant lifted herself and the fallen object back to the desk.

She was surprised to find a video playing on her screen when she sat back up, and quickly scrolled down to see who exactly this band were, even more surprised by their amazing sound.

“Tasha!” Her boss called to the assistant, who glanced up from her laptop. “Get me CJ. Tell him I need a band to open in 3 hours.” He demanded, and she grinned.

“Sure, but you might want to check this out.” Tasha sat back, continuing to watch the video as her boss hurried over, and Alex couldn’t help but chuckle as the boys watched the scene unfold before them. “Somehow this video started playing on my laptop. It’s got 4 million hits in just a week.”

“Who are they?” He asked, shocked, and Tasha scrolled down the page.

“They’re a hologram band. They call themselves Julie and the Phantoms.” She read out.

“Tell your friends.” Reggie instinctively replied.

“Where are they located?” He asked quickly, and she smiled even wider.

“Our very own City of Angels.”

“Then book ‘em!” Her boss demanded, the boys sharing a cheer.

“Sure, I just don’t know how to…” Tasha trailed off, her eyes falling onto a post-it note, right there on her desk, bearing a number alongside the band’s name.

“Your handwriting is better than mine…” Luke mumbled, earning a pat on the back and nod from Alex before the three vanished, headed home to find Julie and tell her the good news.

“Oh my God!” Was the first thing they head when they landed, Julie having spent most her day pacing the studio: by the looks of it, she had worn down the carpet. “What took you guys so long?! Did Willie do it? Did you talk to them? Did they watch? Did they like us? Are we playing tonight? Can someone answer me? Why’s no-one talking-”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of questions!” Reggie interrupted, allowing Julie a chance to catch her breath. “Luke, you wanna take this one?” He suggested, and Luke turned to face Julie with a smile.

“Take a seat.” He instructed, and Julie’s sat back on the couch she had been too anxious to stay on earlier, while the boys found themselves kneeling on the other side of the table. Atop it, sat Julie’s phone. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” Luke said with a smile.

“Yeah. Willie and Y/N took care of the other band, and we saw them watch the video.” Julie smiled a little at the mention of Y/N’s name, glad the ghost-girl she had become so close to over the last week was on their side. “You should be getting a call right… Now!” Alex explained, pointing to the phone and everyone leaned forward. When the screen stayed blank, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Right… Now!” He pointed a second time, this time the action followed by the screen lighting up with an unknown number, the boys high-fiving. “Nailed it…”

“The phone!” The boys quickly realised Julie was yet to answer after a moment had passed, and she quickly grabbed her mobile, the room going silent as she answered.

“Hello?” She said softly, the tension thick in the air as they waited.

“Hi, this is Tasha from the Orpheum…”

Y/N had always been Willie’s best friend. If anything, she was more like his over-protective younger sister. From the moment he arrived at the club, she was watching out for him, keeping him safe, and she intended to keep doing that, whatever the cost. Even if it led to her handing over the boy she liked on a silver platter with his bandmates to Caleb. Even if it meant spending eternity being hated by the people she wanted most to like her, Willie included.

Because, when all is said and done, Y/N would do anything to protect her family.

“Why so blue, sunset?” Caleb asked as he walked into the club to find her keeping up with her daily chores: scrubbing away at the floor until Caleb could see his reflection on the wood. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the big dance number tonight?”

“I don’t want to perform anymore. Not for you.” Y/N muttered, getting up from the floor to sort herself out with some fresh water, a hand coming to her shoulder. “You know, the only time I’ve ever enjoyed anything to do with music was when I sang with Luke? With the band you want so badly to tear away from Julie. My friend?”

“They aren’t your friends, Y/N… I’m your friend.” Caleb corrected, gesturing for Y/N to set down the bucket and sit, which she did without hesitation. “I’m also the friend who owns your soul, owns your best friend’s soul.” He reminded, and Y/N sighed. “So, you do what I say. I say I want you on my stage tonight, that’s where you’ll be. Got it?” He snapped, and Y/N quickly nodded. “Good. Now, what have they been up to since we last spoke?”

“They’ve figured out their unfinished business… They plan to finish it tonight.” She reported back, and Caleb froze. “You’re too late.”

“The lifer’s address. Give it to me.” Caleb demanded, and Y/N stood up, taking steps towards backstage, only to be hit by a jolt that sent her to her knees.

“Caleb please… Please just let this go, let Willie go. Reconsider.” She begged, coughing through her words to try and lessen the pain in her chest.

“I OWN YOU!” Caleb yelled. “You do what I say! Now,” He snapped his fingers, changing from a suit into a tuxedo and top hat combo. “Tell me where they are.” With a roll of his hand, he offered Y/N a pen and paper.

As she wrote down Julie’s address, Y/N could only hope that the boys were already at the Orpheum, already with Julie and ready to play again. He smiled as she scrawled the address down, snatching the paper back and closing his eyes as he disappeared, leaving Y/N to recover, to change…

To get ready for another show.

“Julie and I were thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke suggested, he, Alex and Reggie gathered around the grand piano in the studio, deciding the final order of the songs. He looked up to find both his bandmates rather out of it, and frowned.

“Perfect.” Alex said with a quick nod.

“Sounds good.” Reggie added with a sigh.

“Sounds good?” Luke asked, looking between the two like he was missing something. “Dude wake up! I wanna hear ‘it sounds awesome’!” Luke said with vigour, trying to pump up his friends, before letting his shoulders drop. “I know this isn’t how we wanted things to turn out, but we gotta be all in tonight.” He reminded them. “This is our second chance at playing the Orpheum!”

“I… I get it, I get it, but it’s hard.” Reggie said in a soft voice, melancholic and sincere. “Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we all still get to hang together? You…” Reggie paused, his shoulders slumping. “You guys are the only family I have.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know what’s going to happen either, but… It’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said softly, reaching to place a hand on Reggie’s shoulder when another jolt hit the three, sending them doubling over.

It was worse this time, a lot worse, the pain no longer in their side but the centre of their chest, almost like the jolts had been travelling this whole time towards their hearts. Each was having to find support from the piano to simply stand up at all, and as the pain started to fade from their chests, it relocated to their wrists where the stamps marked their skin.

“I’m pretty sure we do… And it rhymes with the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Reggie said with malice in his voice as he rubbed his wrist, his friends sharing the same thought as the garage doors opened, Julie walking in and pausing at the unhappy looks on her friends’ faces.

“Are you ready?” She asked before fully registering the situation, her smile quickly dropping. “What’s wrong?” She asked, holding on tighter to her dress, stored neatly in a clothing bag. The boys did their best to hide the level of pain they were in, Alex brushing it off with a light chuckle and smile.

“Yeah. We just got rocked pretty hard by one of those jolt things.” He explained with a shrug, leading the walk over to their friend, their bandmate, their leading lady.

“Pretty sure I ghost peed a little.” Reggie added with a forlorn look, Alex glancing over and rolling his eyes at the comment.

“We’re fine though.” Luke smiled. “How are you doing?” He asked, noticing the way his friend wringed her hands round the coat hanger.

“I’m a little nervous actually.” She admitted with a slight laugh. She was, after all, about to play the Orpheum, one of the most well-known stages in LA. She hung the dress on the door quickly, rubbing her hands against the denim of her jeans.

“Julie, you’ll be amazing, as always.” Reggie reminded, receiving nods of agreement from the other guys, easing Julie’s nerves slightly.

“Can… Can I ask a favour?” She said softly, looking at the three idiots who had become part of her family, who had become her home.

“Anything, Julie. You know that.” Luke smiled, and Julie nodded, looking down at her toes and taking a breath.

“When you guys cross over, if…” Julie swallowed, and Alex took a step closer in concern. “If any of you happen to see my mom, can you tell her I love her… and thank her for bringing you to me?” She asked softly, sad smiles being shared between the four: it was a request the boys most definitely hoped to keep for her.

“We will.” Alex said softly, on behalf of the three of them, and Luke cleared his throat.

“Guys, band circle.” He ordered, the four coming together and joining hands where possible. “We don’t know what brought us here, but what we do know is… You’re a star, Julie.” Luke smiled at her, a feeling of pride swelling in him the boys no doubt shared: she was their Julie, and the last months had changed them all. “And just because this is our last night together, it doesn’t mean we won’t be watching you from above… or…” Luke glanced down at the floor with a light chuckle, earning scoffs from his bandmates. “Now let’s go rock this show, and give them a night they’ll be talking about until the sun comes up.” He jumped a little with the words, and more laughs were shared. “Legends on three.” Luke said finally, putting his hand into the circle’s centre.

“One.” Alex responded immediately, his hand landing on top of Luke’s.

“Two.” Reggie followed with a dopey smile and a shrug.

“… Three.” Julie finished, all four raising their hands with a cry of ‘Legends!’, quickly followed by Julie’s dad Ray beeping his horn. “That’ll be my dad. He’s driving me there, so I’ll see you guys soon.” She smiled at the three of them, grabbing her dress and jogging out the door and down the driveway to where her dad waited.

The guys watched the leave before drifting around the room, taking it all in for one last time. While Reggie and Alex got lost in their own dazes, Luke’s eyes travelled to the couch, his mind replaying the sound of Y/N’s voice when she sang with them the week before. The feelings of her head on his thigh, the way her laugh vibrated through her body into his, the way their hands felt interlocked.

“Take it in boys, it’s the last time we’ll see this place.” Luke said under his breath, but Reggie and Alex heard him. They were thinking the same thing.

“And where is it that you think you’re going?” The voice came first, followed by a flash and Caleb, who lounged on the grand piano before the boys in a top hat and tuxedo. He seemed to radiate evil now that they knew what and who Caleb really was, so obviously they felt stupid for not realising before.

“What are you doing here?” Luke asked in a growl, stepping in front of Reggie and Alex, ready to take on the first round with the man who was trying to enslave them for the rest of time.

“Such hostility!” Caleb said with a tut and a gasp, shaking his head. “I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night.” He let out a chuckle. “Not everyone gets to play the Orpheum!”

“No. Ok, we know that it’s your stamp that’s hurting us.” Luke informed as he pulled his sleeve up to show the stamp, the branding, on his wrist. “We already told you, we have a band. We don’t want to join your little club.”

“Yeah, and you can’t make us either…” Alex built up the courage to back up Luke, but after a glance and raised eyebrow from Caleb, he cleared his throat. “Sir.”

“Right! You’re crossing over tonight. So exciting!” Caleb whispered, the dramatic facial expressions just emphasising his sarcasm. “Funny thing about the cross over, no-one really knows what’s waiting on the other side.” He told them with a wave of the hand and an evil smirk, tapping the brim on his hap. “But I know what’s happening on this side.” With a pressing of his hand to his mouth, Caleb blew a kiss and sent the boys spiralling…

Only to land straight up somewhere unfortunately familiar, dressed in new clothes and armed with their instruments. It wasn’t the first thing Luke noticed as he landed though, no… What came first was the noise.

“You told me you would help them, Y/N!” It was Willie’s voice shouting, which surprised Luke most considering that he had never met someone so friendly, so chilled out. As his eyes focused, his view of the pair became clearer, Y/N stood before them in a stunning deep green dress, a single tear trailing down her cheek as Willie yelled. “You lied, and you lied again! How could you do this to them, to me?!”

“I didn’t have another option Will…” Her voice wobbled; her eyes red as she did her best not to sob. Y/N looked broken, reaching out for a pacing Willie but never quite getting to hold him. “I picked the lesser of two-”

“What did you get in return, huh? The penthouse suite?! Control over the work rota?!” Willie asked. “What did he give you this time to do his dirty work, Y/N?” Willie asked, his head turning and stopping dead as he spotted the three boys, stumbling back and hitting the floor. “No, no…”

“Well, don’t they look nice?” Caleb’s voice led five pairs of eyes to his descending the staircase, now dressed in a purple sequin tail coat, filing his nails as the boys looked over themselves, the tuxedos they had been put into.

“Sweet threads..” Reggie managed, earning a smile from Caleb.

“How… How’d you know our size?” Alex asked, glancing over, and seeing Willie for the first time, his heart breaking at the sight of him.

“That’s your question?” Luke snapped, though Alex was now preoccupied, and his eyes fell on Caleb with a glare, before passing over to Y/N. She looked beautiful in spite of her tear stained cheeks and paler than normal complexion. He hadn’t noticed it earlier that day, nor the night before: but she did look sick.

“I know you boys aren’t my biggest fans.” Caleb said with a tut and a sigh, gesturing as he spoke. “And an eternity at my club might seem overwhelming. But… I just put you in sweet threads, so humour me this one last pitch.” He handed off the nail file, taking a few steps back and taking both Willie and Y/N by the arms, bringing them both to his sides. “Now, first off, isn’t it nice that you’re all here together? And believe me, thanks to Y/N, everything you want, including Willie,” He nodded to Alex, “Including Y/N,” His gaze settled back on Luke, giving the two uncomfortable teens at his side a squeeze. “It’s here. And on my stage, you don’t vanish when the music stops. You soak in the applause for as long as you want. The connection that you will feel with that audience,” Caleb dropped his hands from Y/N and Willie, walking forward and straightening Luke’s bow tie. “It will be like no other.” He smiled a little. “I promise.”

“I’m so sorry-”Y/N began to apologise, this time her gaze directed towards Luke, but Caleb shushed her.

“Do you hear that? They’re waiting for you.” Caleb stated as cheers began from out in the audience, viewers ready for a show. The boys were suddenly hit by another jolt, curling up at the pain, only to hear a female whimper, and a thud, eyes following Y/N as she slumped down to the ground. “That one looked like it hurt.” Caleb said with a shrug, walking back towards the stage. “Now, let me remind you, you don’t know if playing the Orpheum is your unfinished business. Do you really have time to make that mistake? I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking.” Caleb lifted a glass of champagne and took a sip as another jolt ran through the boys, this time they witnessed it run through Y/N as well. “You know where to find me.”

As Caleb’s music started up in the background, Willie helped pull Y/N to her feet despite his anger, the girl gripping onto his arm and pulling up the sleeve.

“Y/N, what are you-” Willie asked, trying to pull away when he saw his stamp begin to glow, and like magic lift off of his arm. The boys watched on in amazement, Willie’s stamp shattering in the air into nothing, leaving the skin on Willie’s wrist clear.

“You were working for him all along…” Luke muttered, and Y/N looked up, holding tight to Willie.

“He gave me an offer… Either you three died and Willie was destroyed along with you… Or you all lived, with the bonus of Willie… Winning back his soul.” Y/N explained, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“The things we do for family…” Luke muttered, finally understanding what she had said before.

“I’m so sorry I did this…” Y/N groaned and held a hand to her head, sitting herself down on the floor as the words of Caleb’s song floated around her head, as she watched Alex begin to twirl a drumstick between his fingers and Reggie bounce to the track’s beat. “Willie you need to leave… Go somewhere safe.”

“The studio…” Alex suggested absentmindedly, before he disappeared in to a puff of smoke, only to reappear on the stage by the drum kit.

“You’ll be safe there…” Y/N promised, and with a final glance back at the stage, Willie left the Hollywood Ghost Club a free man for the first time ever.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Luke asked, Reggie disappearing from his side as he knelt down to see to the girl clutching her head. Reggie’s infamous bass lines began to resonate around the room, and Luke felt his fingers itching to play, felt his body dying to be on the stage.

His heart wanted to stay, with Y/N…

“Now Luke.” Caleb called from the stage, Luke’s hands working with a mind of their own as they began to play, his legs pulling him from Y/N’s body as the temptation took over.

The moment Luke’s feet crossed over the threshold of side lines to stage, a cosmic shift occurred with the completion of Y/N’s deal. To the sound of guitar riffs and drum beats, Y/N’s mind was filled with memories of a life she never knew, of a life Caleb stole from her…

Of a life Caleb took away.

The boys hadn’t arrived… They didn’t get to cross over. The jolts got them first.

The fears circled through Julie’s brain as she ran from Flynn and Rob, the tech manager, fleeing out the Orpheum’s side door onto the alleyway. As she broke through the doorway, her feet came to a slow stop, recovering from the run. Julie looked to her left, her right, and finally to the sky as the cold night air set in, traffic passing by on the main road, the blue glow of the Orpheum’s catching on driving cars. And, like that, Julie just felt angry. Like the world had turned its back on her and stolen the people she loved over and over again.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Mom, but…” Julie started, cut off for a moment by a soft sob. “I can’t handle it.” She admitted to air. “You know, Flynn says you’re supposed to be behind everything, but I don’t know… If I was supposed to help the guys, I didn’t.” Another sob racked her body, and Julie tilted her head back. “They’re gone and I’m so sorry… They were my friends, my band… My family.” She sniffed at the thought, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Why can’t you just come pick me up and… and hold me in your arms and just tell me that everything’s gonna be ok and that I’m gonna get through it?” Her voice cracked at the thought, and Julie took a shaky breath. “And tell me that even though they’re not here with me, they’re still up there with you. I just… I just wish you were here.” Julia sighed, her head dropping down as she finished, a passer-by stopping by her side.

She looked the poor girl over, dressed like a popstar in a back alley, crying to someone who was no longer there, and felt the deepest movement of sympathy within her. Without thinking much of it, she held out one of her newly bought dahlias to the young girl, who accepted it with surprise, and made her way home.

Julie looked at the flower, the sign she had been waiting for, and turned towards the side entrance of the Orpheum, her glance triggering a gust of wind to throw the doors open and send a picture from a pinboard by the entrance off of its pin, floating down to the ground. Picking the photo up from the floor, Julie felt even warmer inside, immediately noticing the face in the centre of the picture. Even twenty five years younger, her mother had the same smile and hair and eyes, she threw her head back to laugh in the same way.

That’s what the photo was: her mom in that same jacket Julie wore that night, holding tightly to her friends as they posed for the photo. Her mom wasn’t centre though, instead it was a girl in a birthday hat, her smile bright as he held a hand to her chest and another over the third friend’s shoulder.

“Rosalee…”

Julie, with her dahlia in one hand and the photo in the other, marched back down the stairs and back to stage side where Flynn and Rob were trying to co-ordinate and get Brendon Urie on stage. Instead, Julie stopped for a moment by Flynn’s side, a smile on her face as she brandished the flower like a sword and pressed the photo to Flynn’s chest.

“Signs.” She said simply, walking on stage without hesitation, which prompted Flynn to look down at what she had been handed by her best friend.

A photo of Julie’s mom, about twenty something years younger, beside the girl Flynn had seen flickering at the party as she sang with the band.

A photo of Rose and Y/N… From 1995.

Part Eight (The End) is here...

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @elioelioeli0 @jenjen889 @walkingonshunshine @parkeret @lolychu @leahstypewriter @j-mar-memester @sunsetcurve-h @musicconversedance @gracefulpenguin @shae-is-not-ok @talksoprettyjjx @smol-book-nerd @lord-of-the-fried @siennanoelle01 @deadpoolgirl23 @theatricalfangirl @deepsleepnat @hhyunj1n @lovesanimals @oswin05 @ifilwtmfc @crappy-unicorn @eries45 @noncannonships @tenaciousperfectionunknown @theorangestofjuices @oopsiedoopsie23 @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @aesthetic-lyss @voguesir @michellebarista @caitsymichelle13 @bellero

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff #fantom

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when-they-write-stuff · 3 years

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Well, you're a hot mess (and I'm falling for you)

Written for this moodboard and I totally forgot to finish this, but here we are now! Thank you @fanficmakesmehappy for the permission and amazing moodboard, I had a ton of fun writing this!

Stiles was so ready for his first college party.

After surviving werewolves, hunters, literal demons, and a multitude of other supernatural creatures hellbent on killing him and his friends, a party was nothing. He was ready to get drunk under neon lights and forget about his (not so) normal life, thank you very much.

But then Derek Hale showed up.

Stiles knew he’d never escape the supernatural. He didn’t want to, not really. After four long years of running around Beacon Hills from some threat or other, he figured that was just his life now. But he also deserved a break, okay? A break from multi-colored eyes, from fangs and sideburns, from anything that had to do with Derek literal Hale.

Derek Hale, the guy Stiles had been pining after for years. Derek Hale, who he was planning on finally forgetting with lots of drinking, dancing, and whatever else started with a ‘d’ and ended with him pretending the supernatural didn’t exist.

And that was supposed to start tonight; at his first college party.

Except Derek was such a stalker.

Stiles wondered if he was hallucinating at first. Sure, he got the occasional visit from one packmate or another. Sometimes they stole his clothes, sometimes they just curled around him and refused to leave until morning. But Derek only got in contact when he needed something. Research, a status update, questions about the bestiary.

And Stiles was supposed to be forgetting him, remember? Only, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that when Derek was standing across the room looking like literal sex on legs.

This really wasn’t fair. The man looked downright sinful underneath the neon lights and why the hell could he never wear jeans that actually fit? It was way too hot in the room for a leather jacket, but Derek was definitely wearing a v-neck underneath and Stiles might have a heart attack if he took any more layers off. In fact, he might have a heart attack anyway.

He had two options, Stiles figured, turning his back toward Derek and gripping his cup tighter. Go over there and chew the asshole out for obvious stalking, or pretend like this was a hallucination and get as drunk as possible. Because Stiles had a plan; drinking, dancing, forgetting.

And you know what? He was so sticking to the plan.

Like a godsend, that came in the form of a blond-haired guy slipping onto the stool at Stiles’s side, a smirk going up to sharp blue eyes.

“Hey, there.”

Stiles was quick to down the rest of his drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste of cheap beer. But anything to give him a bit of an edge on this conversation, right?

The guy smirked when Stiles turned toward him, offering out a hand. “I’m Chet.”

“Stiles.”

“... Stiles?”

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles said, grimacing. He got enough strange looks from his professors to know that he was going to be explaining this to everyone for the rest of his college career. That was one thing he wouldn’t miss about high school. At least there, people had learned to just not ask.

“Weird,” Chet said, looking a little more disinterested. Stiles laughed a little, glancing across the room involuntarily.

Derek was still staring at him. And now, the man was starting to look a little murderous.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said, wrenching his gaze away. He smiled at the other boy, nodding toward the open floor. “You dance?”

Chet studied him for a long moment, then smirked back. Stiles firmly avoided looking in Derek’s direction as the guy grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him off the stool toward the neon flashing lights, a strange pit already forming in his stomach.

It wasn’t excitement, exactly. Or… Stiles wasn’t sure. Maybe it was. Maybe it should be. He swallowed hard and let Chet pull him closer, suddenly wishing he had drunk a bit more.

Or maybe had something stronger.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Chet said, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “You do know that, right?”

Those words were enough to snap Stiles out of his thoughts. He looked at Chet in surprise, who tilted his head, eyes traveling all the way down Stiles’s body appreciatively.

“Guy like you shouldn’t be sitting at a party alone.”

“I don’t usually do this,” Stiles said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Chet tilted his head and Stiles flushed bright red, internally cursing himself. “Parties, dancing. Uh—”

“Well,” Chet said, cutting him off. “I guess I get the privilege of being your first, then.”

Despite everything, despite the intoxicating closeness of guy, Stiles felt his eyes drifting across the room again. Only to realize that Derek was gone. The place he’d been was empty, as if the werewolf had never been around in the first place.

“Hey,” Chet said, catching his chin and guiding his gaze back forward. “Stiles. Eyes on me.”

Stiles nearly pulled away. Because Derek— Derek— he hadn’t imagined the man, had he? That could be typical Stiles, though, he supposed. Getting out to his first party to forget about the fluffy asshole only to imagine he was seeing him everywhere.

“You,” Chet said, kissing him on the neck. “Are so fucking—” another brush of lips— “Hot.”

Drink, dancing, and forgetting. That was the point of tonight.

“My kind of fucking hot.”

“O-okay,” Stiles said, finally tugging away. He offered the guy his best apologetic smile, although he didn’t really feel it. “I’m sorry, man, really. But not tonight.”

Chet’s smile wavered. Stiles chuckled nervously, stepping back.

“I’m just, uh, tired. I should get going.”

“Oh, come on,” Chet said, catching the front of his shirt again. He pulled Stiles close enough that Stiles could feel warm breaths against his face, making him wince. “Stiles. Nobody likes a tease.”

“Okay, dude—”

But Stiles didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before there was a pair of lips crushing against his own. He squeaked in surprise and tried to yank back but before he even could, there was a loud roar and Chet was ripped away from him.

A loud crash filled the air as the guy went tumbling sideways into the punch table.

The sound of chattered died like someone had fired a gun. Stiles froze, his heart still thudding against his chest, and then he realized it was Derek standing in front of him. Fists clenched, shoulders squared— like a guard dog or something.

Derek Hale. Real and totally here, not just a pining part of Stiles’s stupid brain.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, slowly coming back to reality. The music still played and the lights still flashed, but people were definitely staring now. And when Derek looked over his shoulder, meeting Stiles’s gaze, there was definitely a bit of red in his eyes.

Oh, god.

Stiles laughed nervously, grabbing the man by the jacket and pulling him away from the overturned drinks table. Chet looked like he was in shock, white shirt doused with beer and punch, his face as pale as a sheet.

“O-kay, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, guiding Derek toward the frat house door. His heart was still thudding against his chest and he could feel every eye staring them down. “We’re just gonna go get some fresh air now, okay?”

Stiles managed to get him to the door, but before he could pull him out, Derek pulled away and gave Chet a full-on death glare. The guy whimpered, shying even further into the floor, and Stiles could’ve sworn there was a growl in Derek’s voice when he spoke.

“You ever so much as look in his direction again, I’ll rip your throat out.”

Chet’s eyes rounded and he averted his gaze. Stiles’s heart was in his throat as he pulled Derek out the door, into the fresh night air, and all but slammed the door of the now-silent party at his back.

They barely made it to the sidewalk before Derek was grabbing Stiles by the arms and searching him up and down.

“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles said, trying to wiggle free. “Stop it, Sourwolf, I’m fine!”

“I should have thrown him harder,” Derek growled. “Maybe out a window.”

“Woah, no,” Stiles said, raising his hands as he finally managed to pull free. “Manslaughter would definitely not be good for any of us, dude. Especially not you.”

Derek scowled, but some of the red was gone from his eyes, at least. Stiles searched him down, his brain still playing slow catch-up to everything that had just happened.

“Dude,” he said. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what.”

“What was— Derek! A simple knee to the nuts would have sufficed! You nearly wolfed out in front of everyone.”

Derek looked at him, face betraying nothing. Though, he didn’t look bothered by that fact. Stiles stared, then rubbed a hand over his face, groaning.

“Oh my god. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was in the area.”

Stiles lowered his hand, blinking at the man. “You were in the area?”

“Yes.”

“Derek, you’re never in the freaking area! Not without a text about some stupid thing that you need me to research, anyway. What the hell was that back there? How the hell did you know where I’d be anyway?”

Derek held his gaze, then growled, tearing it away. Stiles stared in shock as the man started down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets. He bit down on his tongue, cursed, and then chased after the werewolf.

“Derek, dude, stop!”

“I was nearby,” Derek said, spinning around. “And— and—”

“And what?”

“And Erica told me you were going to a party!”

Stiles blinked. Faintly, he remembered texting Erica a few outfits to get her professional opinion before he’d left his dorm, but he’d never expected the beta to report back on him. Even in the darkness, Derek’s face was bright red, and Stiles nodded carefully, trying to process that information.

“So?”

“So,” Derek said, glowering. “Clearly, it’s a good thing I was there.”

“Clearly— hey! That’s an asshole move.”

“The guy kissing you when you didn’t want it was an asshole move.”

Stiles swallowed hard, dropping his gaze. For a moment, the silence reigned, the cool air filtering around them, and Stiles shivered.

Then Derek sighed. Before Stiles could even react, the man was slipping off his jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders, easily avoiding Stiles’s surprised stare. The stare didn’t last long though, as Stiles took in the man’s freaking too tight v-neck, and dammit, that so wasn’t fair.

“Dude,” Stiles said, averting his gaze. “Really?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles just flushed, unconsciously pulling the jacket tighter around him.

“Nevermind.”

“Do you,” Derek said hesitantly. “Want to go back inside?”

Stiles looked at him in surprise again. The man didn’t look happy at all about the words that had come out of his mouth, but he just shrugged.

“I can leave, Stiles. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“Oh my god, Sourwolf,” Stiles said. “Please never apologize for threatening someone like Chet ever again.”

Derek scoffed slightly. Stiles grinned.

“Though, I thought the whole ‘rip your throat out’ thing was our thing.”

One eyebrow raised. Stiles blushed.

“Not like that. Er, you know. In like a sexy threatening Alpha werewolf kind of way.”

“Oh?”

“Shut up,” he said. “Stop smirking.”

“Okay,” Derek said, a hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. And why hadn’t Stiles seen him look like this before? “So, your first college party was a bust. But it’s usually not the only one, you know.”

Stiles blinked. “What?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“You… went to college.”

The man’s face did something strange. “Stiles, you do realize werewolves do things like that too, right?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I just…”

It was Derek. The words died on his tongue as he eyed the man, some strange emotion forming in his chest again. But this time, he thought it might actually be excitement. Or maybe nerves. Or maybe a mix of both.

“Hey, Derek,” he said carefully. “Take me out?’

The man’s eyes widened. And what had Stiles been telling himself earlier? Drinking, dancing, forgetting. But the last thing he’d expected was to see Derek Hale. All green eyes, too-tight jeans, and a v-neck that was literally the sexiest thing Stiles had somehow ever seen.

Derek Hale.

There was no way he was getting over him tonight.

“Take me somewhere,” Stiles said, heart thudding against his chest. Derek’s eyes sparked a little red.

“Okay.”

“So,” Stiles said, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. When Derek had taken him to get streetside hot dogs of all things, Stiles had thought he was joking. But then there they were, sitting in the dark, eating street meat. “Tell me about your college.”

The man glanced over, mouth full. Stiles snorted.

“Where did you go, dude? What was your major? Why have I never heard about this before?”

“I don’t like to advertise my life,” Derek said, swallowing. “But I went to NYU. And got a degree in Engineering.”

Stiles’s blinked. Derek’s ears turned a little red.

“I like fixing cars.”

Stiles huffed, grinning out at the street. It looked like there was a bar or something across from them, music coming from the open door and bright lights dancing out onto the sidewalk.

“You should start your own business or something,” he said thoughtfully. “Fixing up cars.”

Derek snorted. Stiles grinned over at him, elbowing the man.

“Shut up, I’m being serious!”

“Hm.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, sticking the last of his food in his mouth and jumping up. Derek gave him a surprised look as Stiles hauled the man to his feet and started across the street. There was a loud honk and a cab barely swerved to avoid them, making Stiles bark out in laughter.

Derek gave him a slightly terrified, slightly confused look.

Stiles just grinned brighter, stumbling through the door of the lit up the building and pulling Derek with him. And, turning around, he realized it was more of a club than a bar.

Which was even better.

“Okay,” Stiles said, eyes sweeping over the crowded dance floor. “This is so much better than a college party.”

“Stiles—”

“Oh, come on, you big lump,” Stiles said, pulling the man along again. “We’re going dancing.”

Derek made a noise of protest, but Stiles barely heard him. Tugging him into the crowd, he nearly lost the man’s hand in the throng of people twice. The lights flashed, almost blinding, the smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, and Stiles spun around on the middle of the dance floor to see Derek looking wide-eyed and red-faced, the color going all the way to his ears.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You ever go dancing at NYU, Sourwolf?”

“Shut up.”

“Because,” Stiles said, stepping closer. “That’s what tonight was supposed to be all about.”

“Stiles, I don’t know if—”

“It’s a necessary college experience,” Stiles said, glancing up at the werewolf. “That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

Derek’s eyes darted from Stiles’s own, to his lips, then back up. And for a moment, Stiles was almost nervous. Because what if he’d taken tonight one step too far? Oh god, what if he was pulling a Chet?

But then the man pulled Stiles forward by the folds of his jacket and slid closer to where he was obviously welcome. And Stiles smiled brightly at that— he couldn’t help it.

If he was going to drink and dance with anyone tonight, it was going to be Derek Hale.

Only Derek Hale.

“I want you to touch me,” Stiles said, guiding the man’s hands down to his hips. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he wrapped an arm around Stiles’s waist, pulling him even closer.

Stiles exe. almost logged off, but somehow, he still managed to keep his head. Raising his chin, Stiles searched the man’s face, teeth sinking down into his lower lip.

And fuck, if Derek wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Under the ever-changing lights, his eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors. Stiles didn’t often see the Alpha let down his guard, but Derek was open and gentle with his arms wrapped around Stiles’s waist now. And Stiles didn’t know such a tight grip could be so careful when the man held him close, forehead brushing against Stiles’s own.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes. The man’s breaths were soft and warm against his face. And it so, so different than earlier.

“Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat and he huffed a small laugh. “Language, Sourwolf.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He glanced back up, smirking softly. The man searched his face, eyes dropping a little lower again, and before Stiles could stop himself, he was meeting Derek halfway, pressing his lips against the werewolf’s own.

He’d had a few rules going into college. Stay on track. Don’t eat curly fries for dinner every night. And try to move on from Derek Hale.

This was so far from trying but Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to even care.

Because dammit, Derek had been what Stiles had missed the most. Derek had been the one Stiles had always hoped to see when there was a knock on his door. It was Derek, it had always been Derek. And maybe, maybe that was just how it was supposed to be.

Derek kissed him soft, open, and warm. Fingers brushed over the skin above the waistband of Stiles’s jeans, looping through the belt loops and pulling him even closer. And hell, this was better than the stuff of Stiles’s best fantasies. Teenage daydreams when he’d been sixteen and slowly coming to reality with his sexuality.

“Goddammit,” Stiles murmured against his lips. “Fuck, Derek.”

“Language.”

Stiles laughed and kissed him harder, stubble rubbing against his cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. It was so freaking hot in the club and Derek’s jacket wasn’t helping— except for it, for everything around him smelled like Derek.

Leather, pine, and aftershave.

Faintly, Stiles realized loved that smell. He loved the fit of Derek pressed up against him. The way the man felt kissing him.

Faintly, he realized he just might be in love with Derek Hale.

Stiles didn’t know what kind of song was playing when they drew apart, heart thudding against his chest. Glancing up, he was almost pleased to see the red in Derek’s eyes, the hunger on his face. Stiles grinned, tilting his head.

“So, Sourwolf. Maybe it is a good thing you showed up after all.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles laughed.

“And maybe, I might just need you to attend other parties at my side in the future. You know, because no one would ever cross a werewolf and what belongs to him.”

The man’s eyes sparked even brighter. Flashes of pure red in the neon lights. Stiles leaned forward and brushed his lips against the man’s again, just barely not making full contact.

“So, Alpha? What do ya say?”

Derek’s grip tightened, and all assumptions of ‘careful’ from earlier went down the drain. Stiles could help the way his heart leaped into his throat as Derek growled, nipping sharply at his lower lip. “Mine.”

“Yeah?”

Derek kissed him again, hard and hungry. Stiles closed his eyes again, drinking in the taste of the man, the feeling of the hands tight around his waist. And yeah, he could be that, he thought. Down the drain with with ‘careful’, down the drain with drinking, forgetting.

Down the drain with almost all things except for a few beginning with the letter ‘d’.

He thought Derek Hale might be a good start.

I had a slight idea where I wanted this to go and then it didn't go there at all XD But I'm alright with how it turned out!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider sending a coffee? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanficmakesmehappy #sterek au #teen wolf au #fluff #humor #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #sterek moodboard #prompts #ficlet

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

insomnia {poe dameron} - 3

in this chapter: poe pulls some strings to help you get away from your horrible commander & the reward makes him wish he’d done it much earlier {series masterlist}

this chapter is dedicated to @generaldameronss who created the beautiful moodboard above!! it gave me the motivation to write and i have not stopped looking at it for days

warnings: language

enjoy!

- jazz

You wouldn’t have thought that falling asleep in the middle of the air hangar was comfortable. It was probably the addition of Poe Dameron beside you that made it the best sleep you’d had in months.

You both had your back against the wall; his arm was around your back, whilst your head was flopped onto his shoulder. The last thing you remembered, you’d been deep in conversation about something and now you were both dead to the world, tangled in one another’s arms. If you’d been awake, you definitely wouldn’t have been complaining.

Neither of you had spoken about it but something had definitely changed in your relationship since that night on Yavin. Poe had become more...handsy. It was small things: his hands lingering on the small of your back as you wandered through the corridor, or a hand on your thigh at breakfast.

The best part was that Poe didn’t even realise that he was doing it. It just felt like the natural thing to do - natural in the same way that he’d started using sweetheart more than your name. Then there had been the fact he’d tensed up when Snap Wexley had flirtatiously teased you about something the other morning. Something had definitely awakened inside you when his hand flew to grip your thigh and you certainly didn’t flirt right back just to see Poe’s reaction. You would never do that. That would be childish and immature.

(And it also worked completely in your favour because the way he suddenly moved closer towards you gave you a kick for a solid four days).

‘Commander Dameron.’ Somebody’s shrill voice rang through the room. ‘Lieutenant.’

You and Poe both suddenly jumped awake, coming face to face with the woman who had just committed homicide upon your beauty sleep. She was six-foot-tall, with a sharp face and tidy blonde hair. Winslow - but then again, who else?

‘Somehow I’m not surprised to find the two of you fooling about on Resistance property.’ She continued, folding her arms tightly over her chest. ‘Do you understand how unprofessional this is?’

‘I was fixing Commander Dameron's jet.’ You scrambled to stand up, gripping onto Poe’s shoulder as you caught your balance.

‘Are you talking back to me?’ Winslow’s eyebrows shot up. Maker, she was nasty.

‘Hey!’ Poe snapped - time to jump out your skin for the second time in less than one minute. ‘Do you talk to all of your squadron like that?’

Your grip on the pilot’s arm tightened. He was already attractive as it was but the idea of him ripping into your commander without a second’s hesitation only amplified that by approximately two thousand, one hundred and eighty seven. He had nothing to lose, after all. He held the same position as Winslow and she had no power over him. You could only envy him.

‘I will deal with my Lieutenant as I see fit.’ Winslow faltered slightly. ‘I expect to see your face at the morning briefing. You have half an hour to wipe the drool off of your chin and get your ass down to the meeting room.’

You could see that Poe was about to open his mouth again to say something, so you took his hand in yours and dragged him towards the door. Your eyes were still heavy with sleep and you had barely even comprehend the fact it was morning already. That was the first time in months that you’d been in a deep enough sleep to wake up disoriented. The source of your insomnia was usually the anxieties and worries that plagued your mind whenever you tried to sleep - but they had completely disappeared with Poe next to you. Perhaps that was something to bear in mind.

Neither of you said anything as you headed through the corridor. You kept your fingers intertwined with his, arms gently swaying together as you strolled. That was the first time Poe had witnessed Winslow in all her bitchy glory - the worst part was that that had been a good day for her.

‘Why do you put up with it?’ Poe eventually broke the silence between you.

‘She’s my commander, Poe.’ You gently reminded him. ‘I know she can be a handful but she’s my superior.’

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, using his grip on your hand to tug you towards him. ‘You have so much fire inside of you. Use it.’

‘The hell does that mean, Dameron?’ You murmured. He stood close to you, brown eyes peering down at you with an intent you couldn’t quite read. The tension between you that had built up over the last few weeks was almost suffocating by that point.

You knew that Poe was a sweet person but at the same time, you highly doubted that he took all his friends to his favourite place in the galaxy. Friends didn’t fall asleep on each other and they definitely didn’t walk with their hands intertwined. You were going to have to address the tauntaun in the room eventually.

‘You’re strong.’ He squeezed your hand. ‘Stubborn. You should use it.’

‘And get myself fired?’ You replied,

‘I’ll sort it out.’ He said. ‘I’ll see you at the briefing?’

‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘Don’t be late.’

Poe pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘Of course.’

Once you’d got back to your quarters, you showered and tidied yourself up a bit. There was an ache in your neck from where you’d been slumped against Poe for the last few hours, but you weren’t thinking about that. Your brain was rewinding through every small gesture of affection from the last few days - specifically, you were thinking about how his lips felt against your skin. In the moment, the gesture had seemed so natural and perfectly timed that you hadn’t even noticed it was the first time he’d done it until you’d shut the door behind you.

After a cold shower, you put on a clean shirt and pants before heading down to the bridge. There were already lots of Resistance workers floating around. In particular, you spotted two familiar faces across the room - Rose and Finn. Rose was probably your closest friend at the Resistance, especially since you’d joined at the same time. Finn, meanwhile, you were convinced was the human version of sunshine. He was always planning his next rescue mission or going out of his way to help others. You could see why Poe admired him so much.

‘Rose, Finn!’ You greeted them, jogging across the bridge.

‘Hey!’ Rose smiled brightly at you, patting the empty spot beside her. ‘Come sit. I’ve missed you!’

‘I’ve missed you too.’ You returned her expression, dropping down next to her. ‘Sorry I haven’t been around much - I’ve barely left the air hangar.’

‘I heard that Winslow’s been nasty lately.’ Finn chimed in.

‘From who?’ You frowned.

Then, as though your question had been perfectly timed, Poe Dameron appeared at the front of the room. He usually opened the morning briefings with his squadron’s plans for the week, and then Winslow would follow suit with hers. He pulled up a map on screen, as well as a picture of a First Order spy who supposedly had information. It was the usual, really - find a lead, follow the lead and hope you didn’t die trying.

You’d sort of zoned out as he was talking. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy listening to Poe, but it was easier to watch him. Even when it was your own commander up there, you hardly paid attention. You were simply at the meeting as a formality - in reality, your job was to fix jets. And, as important as it was, it didn’t need much in the way of planning. You were waiting for the day that your name would be on the list of pilots flying out in the afternoon. With Winslow, that didn’t feel like it would be happening any time soon.

‘We’ll leave the hangar tomorrow at 4PM.’ Poe explained, pulling up another document onto the holoscreen. ‘These are the task assignments.’

‘I didn’t know you’d switched to Black Squadron.’ Rose leant over to murmur in your ear.

‘Huh?’ You blinked. ‘I didn’t. I’m still on Trident.’

‘So why is your name on that list?’

‘It’s not.’ You frowned.

Except, your name was on the list. It was right below Poe’s, where Snap Wexley should have been seeing as he was usually second-in-command. At first, you thought it was simply a hallucination from your lack of sleep - but if Rose was seeing it, that meant it was real. You didn’t know what sort of typo had led to you suddenly being one of the lead pilots on a mission that left the next day but that didn’t stop your mouth forming an o-shape.

‘That’s all for my squadron.’ He shut down the holoscreen, before looking directly at you. ‘Any questions, you know where to find me.’

With that, Poe cleared his throat and exited the bridge. You knew that was a sign for you to follow him - you might have developed some sort of odd ability to non-verbally communicate over the last few weeks. Really, it was just a testament to your friendship. Yep - friendship. Let’s go with that.

You muttered a quick goodbye to Rose and Finn before slipping out the room, jogging after Poe. He was leaning against the wall in the corridor, casually digging something out of his nails. This could have gone one of two ways - if it was a prank, you were going to deck him. If it was real, you were...also going to deck him, actually. Was he really going to throw you into second-in-command on an important mission without asking? His brashness was admirable.

‘Took you long enough.’ Poe flashed you a grin, opening his arms to you as your eyes met. ‘So - what do you say?’

‘I...how?!’ You spluttered. ‘What about Winslow? What about me being barred? Does Leia know? Will we get in trouble-’

He suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders, giving you a light shake. ‘Breathe!’

‘Right.’ You paused, stopping for a moment to catch your breath. ‘How did you do it?’

‘I told you I’d sort it, didn’t I?’ He smiled at you. ‘I convinced Snap to pull a sickie for this operation and I just gently suggested to Leia that I find a replacement.’

‘Poe.’ You placed a hand on his cheek, finally smiling. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything.’ He shook his head. ‘I know it’s not a permanent solution but hopefully it’ll help convince-’

‘- this means everything to me.’ You cut him off. ‘How can I repay you?’

‘Kiss me.’

‘Kiss you?’

‘You heard me.’

There was a moment of silence between you - suddenly, his little mission maneuver was the second most impulsive decision he’d made that morning.

‘Okay.’ You shrugged.

You pulled his face down to yours, crashing your lips together. If the daydreams you’d had about this moment were perfect, then there were no words to describe how it actually felt. It was the kind of kiss that knocked the air from your lungs, but there was no way in hell you were going to break away to catch your breath. It was soft as it was hungry, giving as it was demanding. Poe Dameron was a fucking good kisser and there was no denying it.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. Poe pressed his forehead to your, hand lingering on the back of your neck as he held you for a moment. Your hands were still clinging onto the material of his shirt - neither of you could find it within you to move. You wanted to stay like that forever, savouring in the moment of what was undeniably the best kiss you’d ever had.

‘We should do that more often.’ Poe murmured.

‘I’m not gonna argue with that.’

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

Poolside Kisses 🍹[M]

Pairing: Jimin x chubby! poc! Reader

Gender of the reader: female

Word Count: 5.6k

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: mentions of insecurities; Jiminie and his jealousy (but at the end of the fic they're talking about that); Jiminie is horny as fuck; swearing; petnames; filthy language + filthy dirty talk; praising; body-worship; teasing; edging; begging; marking; thigh-riding and thigh-fucking(?); a little bit dom-/sub-themes; a bit of spanking and pussy exhibitionism; semi-public sex (can you count fucking in your friend's house as semi-public sex?); creampie; unprotected sex (stay safe please!); mentions of aftercare

A/N: Finally, I wrote something for chubby! Readers and for poc! Reader as well. The moodboard was ready for weeks but the fic wasn't... And now it got longer than expected!

The texting with my dear @h0esvck inspired me again to write this fic here, after we talked about cute and sexy bikinis for chubby girls and how the boys could react to these swimsuits! (I really love that bikini in the moodboard💕)

Summary: Jimin said, you should pack a swimsuit into your suitcase when you're going to visit him in Korea. You thought, you'll go bathing somewhere privately, maybe just with the boys or so... and not going to a pool party of one of Jimin's Idol friends where you'll not know anybody! Since then you hate yourself that you only brought your new bikini to Korea that reveals more of your bare skin that you're used to...

Note: It's proofread but I'm sorry when there are still some typos

Links:

My Imagines for your requests

My official Masterlist

And as always, everyone can read the fic who's interested in it 🤗💖 Enjoy!

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Since ten minutes you've been staring at the bikini that is spread out on the bed in front of you. You try to come to a solution for the problem that has been bothering you since this morning.

When Jimin said a week ago that you should pack swimwear for your visit in Korea, you already had been a little suspicious and unsettled.

But you couldn't imagine anything else than maybe going with him and the other members to a privately rented pool. Or maybe going to a beach with them, where nobody knows them anyway, so that they don't get too much unnecessary attention.

The boys already know and love you, so they don't care much about how you look like, as long as you're happy and make Jimin happy as well.

With these thoughts, you calmed yourself a little bit down and quickly drove your worries into the last corner of your mind.

That was also the reason why you were thinking about to try something new, instead of just wearing this boring black one-piece swimsuit that you've had for the last six years.

Maybe something cute, a nice two-pieced swimsuit, something like a bikini or so, that flatters your curves and just hugs them in all the right ways. Something that makes you feel sexy and attracts Jimin's attention a bit more than usual.

The thought alone how Jimin always strips you down with his eyes when you wear something close-fitting, which emphasizes your large chest, your round butt or your juicy thighs in the right ways...

...oh god, just the thought of it makes your knees weak and your panties getting wet.

But that's not the point, you have a lot of other problems right now.

At breakfast this morning, Jimin told you for what exactly you need your swimwear. And it's nothing like you thought before, a day at the beach or at the pool and only with the other guys, no.

The real reason is, that one of Jimin's Idol Friends has his birthday today and throw a poolparty in his villa.

That's not how you imagined it...

Of course you are happy that Jimin is not shy about introducing you to all his other friends in addition to the members and showing up with you in public places.

Nevertheless, you're aware that being chubby is not one of the "desirable" standards of the beauty ideals in Korea. Plus, you're a part of people that have a colored skin tone and all of you still have to face unfortunately prejudice and racism in all corners of the world.

That doesn't mean Koreans are racists or they are going to bodyshame someone, oh hell no! But... of course there are always such kinds of worries, like that you couldn't fulfill all the expectations of his friends, ARMYs or in general the whole publicity.

But that shouldn't be your goal either. Jimin loves you the way you are and everyone else should accept and respect you as his girlfriend and thus your relationship.

Nevertheless, a dull feeling spreads out in your stomach at the thought of having to wear this two-pieced bathing suit.

You really like it and you immeaditly fell in love with this bikini when you tried it on while the shopping trip with your friends. You think that it emphatize your curvy figure wonderfully, hides your fluffy belly in a great way and still shows more skin than you are used to.

And that's exactly the point.

You would show more skin than you're actually used to, so you'd walk completely out of your well known and loved comfort zone... and now even in front of strangers you don't know at all!

Everything in you is reluctant to wear this bikini to this party. You had also thought about going on a quick shopping tour into the town this morning. Hoping to find a one-piece swimsuit that can hide your belly a little better than this bikini. But you rejected the thought so fast like it had came into your mind.

You know Seoul far too little to know, where to find the plus size clothing stores. You know they exist! After all, you had been in these shops with Jimin on your recent visits, but you have absolutely no clue where to find them. So you quickly throw this idea into your mental trash can.

So you have no choice but to put on this swimsuit here.

You sigh and look at this two-pieced bathing suit in frustration again. Why the heck were you so stupid and didn't pack both swimsuits straight away in your suitcase, then you wouldn't have this problem now! But you have no other option than to wear it, you don't want to explain to Jimin that you don't want to come to the party because of your swimsuit. He was so happy this morning to finally be able to introduce you as his girlfriend to all his other friends.

You are about to put your dress on when Jimin knocks gently on your door, the door of the guest room (which you hardly really "need" because you sleep with him in his bed all nights anyway) and asks you through the door if you're ready.

You answer him with a hasty "Yes, just give me two more minutes!" and quickly stuff your towels, a pair of fresh underwear, sunblocker and other things that maybe could be useful, into your beach bag.

You slip with your bare, dark blue painted toenails into your sandals and before you walk out of the door, you quickly fix your sun hat and sunglasses as you walk past the large full-body mirror.

You are as ready as you can be when you're going to show yourself to strangers in a swimsuit that is more skin-revealing for your usual standards.

When you open the door and give Jimin, who is standing in the hall and is waiting for you, a small smile, a bright smile spreads on his lips.

His eyes wander slowly down at your body, you don't miss how he licks his lips, which leave you even little bit embarrassed.

But he also looks so damn good in this white t-shirt that he wears, under which you already can imagine his well-built abs, together with this black, low hanging shorts and a pair of black sneakers, made of thin fabric. His outfit is so casual, but at the same time it looks so elegant on him!

"Damn, baby... you look absolutely gorgeous! You look so fantastic, to be honest I don't want to show you the others in this amazing outfit... I bet with you, that they start gawking and drooling because you are so damn sexy. I really have to be careful not to get jealous and to behave decently, so that I don’t do all these dirty fantasies that I have with you in my mind in front of other people’s eyes... ", says Jimin in a half serious, half playful tone and with a meaningful look into your eyes.

"Jimin! Don't say such things, I thought we want to go to the party of your friend!", you reply with a slightly embarrassed smile and hit him with gentle force at his right arm. He's whining a little bit, rubbing the hurting spot after your punch.

"Yes, yes! But that doesn't mean you have to hit me right away!", Jimin whines as you walk down the hall of the dorm to the front door. Like the gentleman he is, he opens the door to the passenger seat of the car dir you and let you get in with a charming smile.

On the way to the party you chat around, laughs about God knows everything and sings together to the latest summer hits that comes out of the radio. Jimin with his angelic voice and then you with your voice, that reminds you more of a screaming cat than anything else. Your boyfriend admits that you still have to practice a bit on your singing talent, but he motivates you with every new song again to sing along with him. But your exuberant, lively mood gets an unwanted damper when you turn into a street and you can already see all the countless cars parked on the roadside from the distance.

Some, like you, just seem to have arrived only a few minutes ago. When you see all these other slim, long-legged beauties in their gorgeous summer dresses or already in their bikinis outfits with these fit bodies, you swallow hard and start chewing on your lower lip. Jimin doesn't miss that.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"You think too much, my love. Just look at yourself, you are beautiful! And show that too, show them all how damn attractive you are. They'll love you, I promise! And if anyone giving you a weird look, this person will get a serious problem with me! Okay Darling? I love you and everybody else should know too how much you mean to me... and don't let these silly thoughts in your pretty head up there ruin the evening, okay?"

You take a deep breath and finally nod to Jimin confidently.

He is right, you are probably thinking too negative again. You should also go to this party without the prejudice, that they already dislike you for whatever reason and just think positive and enjoy the day.

"Ready, Baby?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

With a cheeky wink in your direction, Jimin gets out of the car and is fast enough at your door to open it for you again.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can't help but smile.

"Jimin, that's really cute of you, but you don't always have to do that. I'm a confident, independent woman, I'm able to open the door by myself too!", you complain but have to laugh at the end of the sentences.

"Then show them with exactly this body here, how confident you are, my dear lady~", Jimin replies with a husky wisper into your ear, which let a shiver run down your back. You are only able to nod at this moment, try not to be too flustered by Jimin's sex appeal. The same person is fully aware of his influence on you and laughs contentedly as you walk together to the front door.

When the doorbell rings, it is opened by other guests who tell you and use vague hand gestures to indicate where the person, who has birthday today and is the actual party host, could be. You two thanks them and slowly find your way down to the terrace, between all of the chatting, sometimes already dancing and celebrating peoples.

It seems like you'll don't know anyone, really nobody at this party. Sometimes you only recognize some K-Pop Idols here and some other K-Drama actors and actresses there, but you don't know anybody really personally, except of Jimin.

That's why you hold his hand even more tightly, afraid of losing him in the crowd. His thumb draw gentle circles over the back of your hand, he can feel how tense you are, try his best to calm you down.

You're going to be stopped on your actual way to Jimin's Friend by some other idols or international celebrities. You have a small talk with them and you'll be greeted every time with very much enthusiasm when Jimin introduces you as his girlfriend.

You don't really know how to deal with it, least of all with their detailed gaze your body. They don't say anything and their looks are not to be rated directly as negative one, much more in curious and interested way?

But before you can start to worry too much about it, the small talk is already over and Jimin continues to guide you through the crowd to the rightful host, who is in the huge garden behind the villa.

This person greets Jimin with a buddy slap on the shoulder and pulls you into a warm hug, which you had not expected at all. You automatically stiffen up, so that the same person lets you go immediately and apologizes hastily for his inappropriate behavior.

At the same time, you want to make it clear that he didn't do anything wrong and you were just a little surprised. Now you both look at each other in an awkward silence and that makes you twoa little embarrassed, which makes Jimin laugh.

"...and may I introduce to you, that is my girlfriend Y/N."

"H-Hey Y/N! Nice to meet you! Jimin has told me so much about you and every time that happens, I got more curious to finally meet you! And when he said, that you'll be in Seoul in the week when I planned to throw my birthday party, I asked him, to please bring you here, so that I can finally get to know you in person. And when you two just showed up with holding hands, I got carried away a bit. Sorry for my overexited hug. But to Jimin's credit I can already say, that he has an exellent taste for amazing girls, like you are.", he says and gives Jimin and you a playful wink.

At this moment, a waitress with wonderfully decorated cocktails on a tray comes past you and Jimin's friend stops this person with a small gesture to give you two a cocktail of your choice. You all thank the waitress before letting her continue her round through the crowd.

Now the host returns his attention to you again.

"I am really happy that you made it to my party and that you-" at that moment he's looking at you with a big smile "... and that you have also agreed to come here! I assume that unfortunately you don't know that many guests here yet. But I can assure you, nobody will bite you here. But if somebody chat you up or so, please inform me or to the security guards, okay? Some of my guests may starts acting like the last idiots when they're drunk, but I don't let them ruin my party." The way he looks at you completely seriously and at the same time gives you an encouraging smile shows you, that he really tries his best to make you feel comfortable here.

You talk for another ten minutes or so, Jimin's friend already makes you laugh here and there with some jokes, so that you pretty fast don't feel like the "new girlfriend of his buddy" anymore. It's his charm that calms you down and you relax more and more with it. You realize, that everything isn't as terrible as you thought it would be.

To your relief, you also realize that your horror imagination is not coming true. Nobody is gawking at you like you're an exotic animal in the zoo. Nobody behaves weird around you and you haven't noticed until now that anyone starts gossiping about you or your relationship with Jimin.

Only one thing seems to be important to everyone. A great atmosphere and thus an unforgettable evening.

You are so engrossed in the conversation that you wince in surprise when someone taps your shoulder gently. You turn around and there is a girl in front of you, already in a bikini and soaking wet. She seems to have come straight out of the pool to you.

"Hey! You're... Y/N, right? I just want to ask you if you would like to come into the pool and play water volleyball with us? We need one more female player for our team, we want to beat the boys!", she says and point into the direction of the pool, where the other players wave with their hands enthusiastically and want to encourage you to play along with them.

Nevertheless, you look back at Jimin, still a little bit uncertain. Your boyfriend gives you an encouraging kiss on the lips and says teasingly: "Don't look at me so questioningly, come along and show them your talent. You can give me your dress and bag."

Before you can decide against it, you quickly slip out of your sandals and pull your summer dress over your head. You already put the bikini on when you still was in the dorm.

The girl who asked you for the game enthusiastically claps her hands together and immediately grabs your wrist to lead you to the pool.

Only in the corner of your eyes you can see how Jimin's jaw drop at your sight and look at you in disbelief.

However, you don't have time to think about his reaction. You are barely in the water and on your official position when the game already starts.

To be honest, you never thought that this afternoon and evening could turn out to be so good and that you just could play with the other games so boisterously. That everyone just treats you as normal like you are and nobody cares how you look.

But you get the first doubts, that everything is not as good as you think, when you see Jimin on the poolside with a less happy expression on his face. You apologize to the others and tell them, that you have to go to your boyfriend for a minute.

"Jimin? Is everything alright? What happens?", you als him, eyebrows drawn together in alarm.

"Y/N, can you come out of the water, please? I need to talk to you," Jimin replies shortly, looking at you intently.

"O-Okay, of course."

When you're about to step out of the water, he already starts to unfold your bath towel. As soon as you get out of the pool, he has put it over your shoulders and gripped your wrist. Without saying a word, he starts moving and pulls you to the door of the terrace and goes back into the house with you. Everything looks like that Jimin wants to drive home from the party prematurely and hastily.

"Jimin? Now tell me, what happened that you seem to want to go home just... now?!", you finally ask him, finding his behavior really questionable.

Your boyfriend just mumbles something incomprehensible, looks around in the hallway until he sprints up the stairs to the first floor with you.

"Jimin, we just can't-"

But the last words of your sentence get stuck in your throat when Jimin seems to have found what he was looking for all the time. The guest room.

He briefly looks around again to make sure that no one has followed you and noticed something about your unauthorized solo-action. Then he grabs the doorknob and quickly pulls you into the room and closes the door behind you.

You just want to start protesting again and ask him for a plausible answer for his behavior. But then you're already being pushed against the door and Jimin's hungry lips are chasing yours.

The kiss is intense and greedy right at the beginning, Jimin's tongue is demanding, doesn't give you any time to understand what's going on.

"Baby, how dare you! These things I said to you when you came out of the guest room in this beautiful and sexy summer dress, I meant them absolutely seriously. How dare you, despite of my warning, to tease me so fucking much?! Then you don't have to be surprised that I can't hold back anymore. And besides that...", growls Jimin in a husky voice between two kisses in your ear.

"...I hate it how all the boys just looked at you all the time. They're speculating whether you were already in a relationship and how they could flirt with you... don't you understand that every guy down there wants you because you're so damn sexy?"

"Wait what, Jimin? I-I don't understand..." you stammer helplessly, your mind is already clouded by these breathtaking kisses Jimin gave you.

Jimin takes a deep breath, acting like he's trying to calm himself down.

"Your bikini, Babygirl. With this damn bikini you drive me crazy and wrap every guy around your little finger without even noticing. Seeing you in such an outfit is a real sin, Baby...", he whispers in your ear.

Let the tip of his nose slide down your neck, inhale your scent, which has such an aphrodisiac effect on him. His hands find their way from your chubby cheeks down to your plush hips and grabs them firmly.

"Fuck, you're so sexy... I love you and your body so damn much that it hurts... I mean... literally!", he growls and rubs his already rock hard erection on your thick thigh.

"You look so damn sexy in this swimsuit and pretend that you have no idea what effect you have on me... and unfortunately also on these other guys down there... it's a shame! I think, I should show you what kind of indecent thoughts you've put in my head with this body, only covered by this little bit of fabric.", comes it panting from Jimin's lips.

He lets the wet towel drop from your shoulders onto the floor and steps a bit away from you to admire your whole beauty to the fullest. A shiver of desire runs down your spine, causing that something, that is all too familiar to you, starts growing in your abdomen. You start to squirm under his intense gaze.

"I'm really wondering who can be responsible for designing such a cute and at the same time so sexy swimsuit. And fuck. It looks incredibly good on you! How can you always wrapping me around your little finger? Hm Baby? Explain it to me...", purrs Jimin dreamily as he lets his hands wander on your big, perfect round ass and grabs it hard.

A whimper leaves your lips whe you feel his mouth on your neck, spreading kisses and is eager to give you enough hickey that everyone will surely see them. Just knowing that he marking you as his, as his girlfriend, makes your pussy even wetter than it already is.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Jiminie~", you say teasingly, but at the same time you start moaning with closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. He positions his right leg between your juicy thighs, flexes his thick thigh muscle just at the right moment and rubs it over your clit. Mastering thigh-fucking in a standing position so fucking well should be prohibited.

"Would you rather explain to me how I couldn't get horny and jealous at such a sight... and Baby? Do you like that? Do you like it how I fuck you with my thigh? How well I can stimulate your clit with it? I already can feel how wet you are... isn't that embarrassing for you, how desperate your pussy has become, just from grinding a little bit on my thigh?", he whispers. He doesn't even try to hide his satisfaction.

His words send an electric shock through your body... just the thought that you really look as good in the bikini as you hoped, so that Jimin can think of nothing more than to do dirty things with you. And then other guys also have noticed you, which has made Jimin so jealous, turns you more on at this moment than you would like to admit. You didn't want to make him jealous at all, but fuck... that's just so freaking hot and you could say your "plan" has more than worked out!

His hand travels to your breasts, pulls with a rough yank the top of your bikini over your breasts, a moan are leaving his lips when he see your big, beautiful breasts. Your nipples are already hard and are just waiting to be caressed.

"F-Fuck... Jimin... G-God... I-I need you!", you whimper as he wraps his lips around your left nipple. You grind in his thigh even more, at the end you start riding him.

"So damn desperate... but only for me. Right?"

"Yes, Jimin, yes! O-Only for you. B-But please, I-"

"Hm? What, Babygirl? What do you want? What are you so desperate for, my Dear? Tell me~"

Jimin loves to tease you. He doesn't give you what you need until you spell the dirty words out by yourself. He loves the way you get shy, always starting to stutter in a damn adorable way until those dirty words come over your own lips. He loves it when his good, decent girl says indecent and sinful things. He loves it when you talk dirty to him.

"I-I want your big hard cock in my wet pussy... I-I... Oh god, Jimin... P-Please just fuck me... Please just fuck me like you already imagined...", you whine and bite your lower lip because of all this desire and need in your body. You need his cock in your pussy now.

"Theoretically, you teased me a lot more with this godlike body, right? But we don't have the time for more teasing, I'll stuff your plump, pretty and sweet pussy with my big cock now and gonna fuck you so damn well~ Just look forward to the moment we're back home again... then you will get your well deserved punishment for making me so horny with this sinful outfit.", Jimin promised to you with a dark, lustful gaze.

With his hands on your delicious ass, he leads you from the door to the bed, which is placed on the opposite wall of the room.

"On your hands and feet, I want to fuck your naughty pussy nice and deep from behind. And you know how I loves it, to see your ass cheeks jiggle when I fuck you doggystyle~"

Oh God, now it can't be ans longer just water, that drips through the bottom of your panties onto the floor. Even if you don't want to admit it, his dirty talk and dominant behavior always makes a mess out of you.

In a matter of seconds, you turned your back to him and crawled onto the bed on all fours. For a very short moment you're sorry to ruin the neatly made bed with your still dripping body and the unrestrained sex, that will follow now.

As soon as you have brought yourself into a comfortable and "stable" position, Jimin pulls your bikini panties down with an impatient tug. You moan in anticipation when you feel the cold air on your bare cunt, even starts to wiggle with your ass a bit more, knowing what kind of effect it has on Jimin.

A deep growl leaves his throat when he sees your plump, fluffy pussy lips are coated all over with your arousal. The way your thick ass cheeks jiggle causes that he gives you a hard slap on the your right butt cheek, what makes you whimper.

"Behave, little Girl.", he says quietly from behind with a warning undertone.

But he doesn't fill your needy pussy immediately, he prefers to pull your ass cheeks apart at first, to have a much better view of your cunt. When he spreads your pussy lips with his index and middle finger open and sees your desperately waiting hole, clenching around nothing. Then he also lost his patience.

With uncoordinated movements of his hands, he pulls his shorts and boxers briefs down to his knees, grabs your hips with a firm grip and push himself into your tight pussy without any warning.

A little cry out of surprise and initial pain comes over your lips, but then you remember that you're having sex in a place where you shouldn't (especially not at this early hour!) and pressing your hands on your mouth quickly.

That’s better anyway. When Jimin fucks you hard, there are always noises coming out of your mouth that you never heard before from yourself.

In short: When Jimin fucks you hard, you're loud. Shamefully loud.

Your boyfriend doesn't give you much time to get used to his cock. But after these days you barely need to get used to it anyway, you have been doing it too often for the past few nights.

His thrusts are perfect, absolutely perfect... hard, fast and incredibly deep. Stretching your pussy just in the right way in all perfect places. And the more you can't hold up yourself on your arms because of the pleasure, the more you sag with your upper body onto the mattress.

This changes the angle even more and Jimin fills you up even deeper than before, finding that sweet spot in your body again. That spot that lets you see stars and the desire almost explodes deep inside your abdomen. But only almost.

This here is the best method for Jimin to torture you. Driving you to the edge of lust, but it's still not enough to let you cum.

Jimin loves this sight.

He loves how your chubby body just shows him how well he fucks you. How the soft, plush flesh of your love handles or your ass cheeks jiggle with every hard thrust that his hips gives your plush body.

How plump your pussy lips are, but how fucking tight your hole is, gripping his hard cock so damn well. He loves to places his palm between your thick thighs on your fluffy vulva, so soft because of that delicous extra flesh and toying your clit to elict even more sweet moans and whimpers from your lips.

"O-Oh my God, Jimin! P-Please don't stop, oh god, please don't stop fucking me and rubbing my clit like that! I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna c-cuu-", you moan, scream at the end, but you just can't stop yourself from being fucking loud.

And to be honest, Jimin doesn't want you to mute your voice. Deep inside of him, his little, dirty devil wants everyone down there to know that he's fucking you onto cloud nine.

When you cum, your walls contract so tightly, Jimin can't help but cum too, your pussy literally milks every drop of his cum out of his cock.

With a deep groan shoot Jimin his load deep into your pussy, mark you in the filthiest way possible as his girl.

You two are breathing heavily and have your eyes closed, Jimin lies himself down on your back. His hands slowly relax from the rigid grip on your hip, then he wraps his arms around your soft belly and lets himself fall to one side together with you, before he becomes too heavy for you.

In the following minutes your breath regulates themself and a certain silence gradually returns to the room. Only the dull bass of the music from outside breaks the silence, accompanied by laughter when someone jumps into the pool, screaming.

Jimin has softened and now slides out of you easily. You can feel the mattress sink under his weight as he gets up and goes into the guest bathroom to get a soft, wet washcloth for you.

He quietly asks you to turn yourself on your back. He gently opens your legs and carefully cleans the mess between your thighs, trying his best to get you rid of his cum. After all, you want to stay a few more hours after this... Quickie? Can you call his here a Quickie?

It takes a moment for you both to straighten your clothes and hair so that no one can immediately see that you had wild sex less than 15 minutes ago.

Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his wrist.

"Jimin, let's be honest. No more strange jealousy actions today, okay?"

Jimin turns to you, looks at you thoughtfully until a cute smirk forms on his lips.

"Jealousy? I don't know that word, not anymore after I've marked your beautiful neck and chest all in detail. Now everyone will know that you're my girl!", says Jimin and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You roll with your eyes and look back at him, pretty annoyed.

"Jimin!"

"Yes, yes, Honey. I know... I know that I have to work on my jealousy problem...", Jimin says in a reassuring voice and looks at you seriously, showing you, that he understood what you mean.

"... but still you can't deny that you like it when I give you hickeys. When I visited you last time, I saw you proudly and satisfied admired my love bites in the mirror!", he reply with a mischievous and playful smirk.

"Oh god Jimin, you're going to shatter my last nerves!", you grumble and shoo him through the door.

You hate it that you can barely be mad at him over a longer time!

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shawnssongs · 4 years

Text

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 ⋄ 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

02. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

It’s the first day of senior year (also we’re just going to pretend they’re all seniors in high school, the pogues and the kooks, including Rafe at Kildaire County High)

series masterlist 01.

an: sorry this chapter is kind of boring! I promise there’ll be more action in the next one :)

warnings: typos, probably wc: 1.4k ish

thanks @jjmaybankx for the moodboard!

It was finally here. The first day of senior year. JJ never cared much about school since it had never been on his list of priorities, but he always loved the first day. He’d usually spend all summer working or hanging out with his friends, so being the social butterfly that he is, he loved catching up with everyone else that he really only saw at school. Plus, at this point, he needed to catch up with his own friends as well. He felt like he hadn’t seen John B, Kie, Pope, and Sarah in months, and other than a few “hey”s here and there, he truly hadn’t.

John B was the same way. Ever since finding out what happened to his father, he’d gotten back on track with his education. His grades improved junior year, especially with the help of Sarah Cameron. John B was ready to catch up with his friends, but he was really just waiting for JJ. His best friend had been MIA all summer.

“John B!” Kiara greeted with open arms when she noticed her best friend standing next to his beaten up Volkswagen.

John B accepted the hug gladly.

Sure, JJ had been absent, but John B had also admittedly been spending more time with Sarah than with the rest of the pogues.

“Where ya been?” He asked her with a smile.

“Around,” Kiara chided, “unlike you, lover boy.”

John B chuckled at Kie when he noticed Pope approaching. They all greeted each other, catching up a bit when Pope asked where Sarah was.

John B shrugged in response. “Met a new girl. She told me she was going to show her around.”

“Sarah loves strays,” Kiara acknowledged.

“There he is!” Pope cheered, gazing behind John B and Kiara at the missing member of their group.

“Man of the hour!”

“Where have you been?” John B asked when JJ was close enough, reaching his hand out for a quick hug.

Kiara prodded. “Yeah, what have you been doing all summer?”

JJ just smiled, playing it off. “I was hanging around at the beach.”

“So were we.” Pope added.

“Guess we didn’t cross paths.” JJ shrugged.

“Or you were too busy checking out tourons to talk to your friends.” Kiara crossed her arms across her chest accusatorily.

“Nah, I did meet this one cool chick though.”

John B noticed the little twinkle in his eyes. “You mean she put out?” He asked, earning a punch in the arm from Kiara and a glare from Pope.

“Is that all you ever think about?” Sarcasm dripped through JJ’s voice. Clearly, he was the one with that reputation, not John B.

The group continues to giggle like children and tease each other as they caught up outside Kildaire County High.

Meanwhile, Sarah Cameron had been incredibly helpful to you so far. You met her just a few days ago when you found out you’d be staying in the Outer Banks instead of moving back home. She agreed to meet you early and show you around the school a bit so you wouldn’t be too lost on your first day.

“Do I look okay, Sarah?” You ask her, noticing all the students walking around in cut off shorts and crop tops. You weren’t allowed to wear just anything like that back home at your private school, so you really weren’t prepared. In a pair of linen shorts and a button up tee, you felt a bit out of place.

“Sure!”

“I’m really nervous.”

“You look terrific,” she complimented.

“So this is Kildaire County High?” The school seemed surprisingly active. It was small, and rundown, unlike your school back home, and even though your old school was large and daunting, somehow you still felt more intimidated by Kildaire County. The uncertainty was causing your nerves to run rampant.

Sarah gripped your arm to calm you. “I know it’s not much, but you’ll love it. Come on,” she smiled, “I’ll help you find your first class.”

With Sarah’s help, you managed to make it through your first couple classes of the day until it was finally time for lunch. The cafeteria looked run down and dirty, but luckily Sarah pulled you outside to meet Kiara, who she’d described as her best friend.

“Y/n, this is Kiara. Kie, this is Y/n!” Sarah introduced giddily, excited to have another friend to do girly things with like shop and do each other’s hair and makeup. The boys would partake sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. Kiara was just as stunning as Sarah, the two of them contrasting in every way. Kiara’s skin and hair both darker than Sarah’s golden complexion, the straightened strands of Sarah’s light hair next to Kiara’s curls. As beautiful as they were, somehow you didn’t feel envious. You felt content. You felt sure that these two girls were people you wanted to keep around. Back home you never got that feeling. You were always comparing yourself to the other girls, trying to be like them or dress like them because that was what was most desired. Here, with Kie and Sarah, you knew they’d accept you for you, and you weren’t afraid to be yourself, because they clearly weren’t.

“Hey!” Kiara greets, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you!” You smile as she reached out for a hug.

The two girls caught up on each other’s summers a small bit of time since they’d spent most of it together. You gathered that Sarah is dating a cute surfer boy named John B, and Kiara has a thing for a studious kid named Pope. It wasn’t long before Sarah asked you how your summer in the Outer Banks had gone, and boy were you glad to tell.

“I met a boy at the beach.” You boasted, unable to hold back your smile.

The guys ate their lunch by the Volkswagen because Sarah apparently didn’t want them to scare away the new girl she’d befriended. He didn’t mind though. They had a lot of catching up to do.

“Okay, so what happened with that girl you met this summer? Stop playin’ around.” John B asked his friend sternly, not wanting anymore jokes.

“Nothing!” JJ lied, but he knew he couldn’t get away with it.

Pope rolled his eyes. “Sure, nothing.”

“Come on, you guys don’t want to hear all the horny details, right?”

The guys pestered him until he finally gave in.

“Alright! I’ll tell you.”

“Oh he was so romantic!” You gush. “And cute. Really cute.”

The girls ooh and aww as you continue your story.

“He ran by me, showing off, splashing around.”

“She swam by me and got a cramp. I saved her life, man.” JJ embellished. “She almost drowned.”

Pope and John B didn’t believe him, but they let him keep going. “Took her surfing, showed her the ropes.”

“We went strolling along the beach. We stayed out until ten o’clock.”

“We made out under the dock.”

“Then what?” Pope asked.

“We got friendly.” JJ quirked a brow, smirking at his curious friend. “Down in the sand, if you know what I mean.”

“He got friendly, and he held my hand,” you explain to the girls, recalling the memories. “He was sweet. He just turned 18.”

You pause, the girls watching you in anticipation. “It got colder. That’s where it ends. That’s when we made our true love vow.” You knew it’s sounded extreme, but you wouldn’t explain it any other way. You loved JJ Maybank, even if you only got to spend one summer with him, and losing your virginity to JJ was you vowing your love to him.

“Y’know, I told her we’d still be friends.” JJ shrugged. “I wonder what she’s doing now.” He truly did, more than the guys knew. Y/n was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and now she’s just gone, clear on the other side of the States.

“He sounds real nice.” Sarah smiled. She was a hopeless romantic, of course. She loved the story.

You agree. “He was a gentleman.”

“What was his name?” Kiara asked, sure she’d recognize any of the locals.

“JJ. JJ Maybank.”

Kiara noticed Sarah’s eyes widen and just before she was able to tell you, Kiara kicked her leg under the table.

“Maybe if you believe in miracles,” she started, “he’ll show up again, somewhere unexpected.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course!” Sarah chimed in, a bright smile adorning has face.

The six of them went back to class as the bell rung, all blissfully unaware of the events to come.

an: kinda hate this ngl... excited for the next chapter though :) thanks for reading, and please send feedback!

also, ty to now both @milaonthemoon and @storiesbymads for your spotify playlists that helped while I wrote and edited this :)

tags: add yourself! PLEASE PAY ATTENTION AND SPELL YOUR URL CORRECTLY (or comment if you just want to be tagged in the series) series @talksoprettyjjx @hazelgirl355 @ssjiara @socialwriter @milaonthemoon all fics @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @harrysbbby @maybe-maybanks @maybankdreams @ilovejjmaybank @i-love-scott-mccall @sarahcxmeron @obx-direction-sos @mahleeyuh @jjmeybank @simonsblue @deviouscharitos all obx @thelocalpogue @maybankiara @ewgrossiknow @poguelifesurfshop @stargazingstarkey @pogxe @t8-er-tot @amanecer-cora @rudths @x-lulu @pixelated-pogues @apoguecalledjj @hiddleless @sungieeeeeee @letsgotothehop @tcmhollnd @jjs--whore @jjswhore @miawantsapuppy @talksoprettyjjx @dani-c2 @hemmoemotional @kennedywxlsh @drew-starkey @beth-winchester21 jj @teamnick @everyonesababe @infinitydols @ritasunflwr @jjaybank @theloveofpeterparker strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, and PLEASE let me know if there are any mistakes. also sorry this looks so weird..

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj fanfic #jj fanfiction #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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imnotasuperhero · 4 years

Text

Wrap your love around me (like we’re supposed to be)

Omg, I don’t even know how to explain the mixed feelings I have with this one. This literally flowed out of my mind and crushed my heart at the same time it healed it.. This is easily my favorite story so far. I love writing Wanda so much and I thank @creepingwolfberry for requesting this. I truly hope you guys get to enjoy this beautiful baby of mine. Please don’t hate me (:

Disclaimer: I wrote this while drinking, so all mistakes are mine.

Check out the moodboard here!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda decides it’s time for a much needed break from avenging. The chance of meeting someone (you) never crossed her mind. Yet, it happened. Would you fight for this?

Or, requested as a song drabble for Orange Trees by Marina.

Wordcount: 1127

Wanda has been waiting for this moment for a few months now, so to say she was excited was an understatement.

You see, life as an Avenger could get a little -a lot- stressful. So when her index finger landed in some random point in the globe they held in the compound, she couldn't help the huge smile that took over her face. Her mind was made. With quick feet, she got to her room and started to pack for a month. Her mind already starting to picture herself under the warm sun by the sea. Maybe a cocktail in hand as the calmness of the island washed over her just nicely.

***

After checking in the hotel, she decided to go explore the surroundings in search of adventure. After all, free spirits like hers couldn't be held in the same place for long.

So here she found herself. Piña colada in hand, contemplating the soft pink and orange of the setting sun painting a nice contrast against the blue sea. The peace of the scenery, despite the constant buzzing of tourists and locals alike, a welcomed change for her overworked mind.

"You must be the reason for global warming because you're hot," a deep voice said behind her to which Wanda turned. Her eyes going directly to you instead of the man the words came from.

Wanda hurried herself to think something to reply while trying to maintain calm under your scrutiny. "Actually, it's primarily because of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere." Wanda couldn't help but smile at your laugh, patting herself in the back mentally. Maybe working alongside two nerds wasn't that bad. "Oh, my God! That was the best answer I've ever heard," you blurted between laughs, earning a grunt from your friend.

Wanda could only witness the exchange between you both with a dumb smile on her face, already lost in the sound of your voice. "Uhh... Wanda," she offered when she realized you were waiting for a reply. "Hi, Wanda. I'm Y/N, this one here is James," you offered kindly. "I'll pay my bet tonight," James kissed the side of your head before walking away not before sending a wave to Wanda, to which she replied warmly. "Don't worry. We just bet he couldn't win a girl with that lame pick-up line," you dismissed nonchalantly. "I guess I earned myself a drink?" Wanda didn't know where the confidence came from, but she was thankful for when you smiled something bright. "I like you," you quickly sat by her side at the bar. "So, what ya doing here?"

Wanda found herself immersed in an easy conversation for the rest of the evening. Random facts about each other being thrown left and right. Laugh was a nice addition to it.

Flopping in her bed, she sighed at the memory of you and she wondered if she ever let herself feel this freely before. To say she was scared of the way her heart throbbed was an understatement. She knew she had to go back home in a few weeks. "No," she muttered to herself. She couldn't let you take over her. She had bigger obligations to care of and you weren't something she needed. Or was it? Grunting, she decided to head to the shower and call it a night. The flight already catching on her tired body.

***

"Wanda!" You called as you ran to the brunette you met yesterday. "Y/N, hi." She smiled something warm and you felt your heart jump in your chest. A soft pink tinting your cheeks. "How are you?" You smiled back, offering her your coconut as you sat beside her in the sand. "I'm good, thank you," she played with the straw before taking a sip of the refreshing beverage. "You?"

A comfortable conversation settled between you both. The easiness of the situation was both, a warm, welcoming feeling and a bittersweet one. You knew she'll have to leave you in 26 days from now. Yet, you allowed yourself to enjoy every single second of it. Either with friends in tow or just the two of you, in your own personal world.

You knew this wouldn't last. None of you belonged here and sooner than later, you'd both part ways to your current, real lives. These weeks together would be nothing more than a memory.

***

"It was so nice meeting you," you smiled and Wanda could see the tears wanting to fall yet, you blinked them away. "I hope I get to see you again," she opened her arms, smiling something painful when you wrapped your arms tightly around her torso. "Me, too," you mumbled against her neck and Wanda knew you felt the way she shivered at your warm breath against her skin.

You both stayed there in each others' arms for a while, basking in the warmth and peace the moment offered you.

"I guess that's my call," Wanda couldn't help the tear that fell when the voice in the speakers' called for her flight. "I guess so," you looked at her eyes and Wanda swore she could be invincible if she let herself free fall in your gaze. "Thank you for making these, the most amazing days of my life," Wanda brought her hands to your cheeks and brushed the tears away. "I'm so thankful I've got to met you, Y/N."

Her world finally crumbled apart when you hugged her one last time. She could feel it in the way your arms surrounded her waist tightly, in the way your nose brushed against her neck as if seeking comfort. And Wanda would be lying if she wasn't tempted to just tell you who she really was and get you to come home with her. She was so close to just brake the only rule Fury gave her...

"Here's hoping we see each other again," Wanda had to command her body to actually break apart. Her heart shattering at the sadness in your face. "May I see you again," you muttered between broken sobs. Wanda's body ached to feel your warmth one more time. Forever, if it was possible.

***

Stepping off the plane, Wanda smiled sadly to herself. Memories of you both coming to her mind in welcomed -yet painful- waves. The way you liked to play with her hair braiding it, and decorating it with beautiful flowers. The way you made her feel like a world in peace was possible. The way you would hold the moon and the stars for her if she asked you to.

She knew she must hold onto the way you made her feel. And in a silent promise, she swore she'll see you again. No matter the cost, this story was far from finished.

#wanda maximoff x reader #requested #uhhhh #i fucking love this #pls don't hate me #my writing

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glossyeon · 3 years

Text

white || nyt

*All credit goes to the creators of these images*

—moodboard.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Christmas Present Store Worker!Yuta x Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Fluff, Profanity

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝘼/𝙉: Please have a safe and Merry Christmas! If you don’t celebrate it, then I wish you a happy holiday! Thank you for reading and enjoy❤️🎄

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮:𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘌𝘷𝘦. 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘑𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

Let’s cut the bullshit and describe how it felt on this Christmas Eve. It was snowy and fucking cold. There’s no other way to describe walking through the piles of snow that had accumulated since the early morning. It was exhausting, freezing, and ruining your new boots from Saks fifth.

Irritated that your half price shoes were soaked, you were also at fault for leaving a present for your childhood best friend Chan last minute. The Christmas holiday season was the same each year, filled with stress, back pain, and an empty bottle of red wine. However, you always found time to take care of those around you. From your loveable yoga instructor Sowon, to the partially deaf but very kind Mr. Hwang who took care of your apartment complex’s plants, you believed that everyone in your life deserved a bit of love on Christmas.

so it’s a complete bullshit excuse to say that you “forgot” Chan’s present. Chris is your childhood friend who's seen every side of you from grade 5 till now. You were closer than most childhood friendships, and treated each other like real siblings! Hell, y’all even had a shared Uber eats account and that is saying something...

Anyways, back to this shitshow. So you’ve been walking for about an hour now, trying to find this holiday present store that your coworker Johnny recommended you find. Something along the lines of Hashimoto’s Christmas Emporium or something like that. The name was questionable, considering that an autoimmune thyroid disease is not a very joyous name.

Just as you're about to give up and leave the almost empty plaza, you find yourself standing right in front of a huge wooden sign. It stands in your way, not letting you go any further. Giving the sign a quick glance of disinterest and walking around it, your head snaps back to take another look when you realize what it was. Fog filled the air as you read the name of the store out loud.

Nakamoto’s Christmas Emporium! - All your Christmas gift ideas and needs in one place!

You breathed a sigh of relief, looking further into the store windows to see what was inside. The store itself along with its merchandise was beautifully displayed, matching perfectly with the holiday festivities. Catching your attention with all the toy trains, peppermint toffees and bright red gift wrapping papers, one very handsome man at the front desk also caught your attention. Sure his reindeer headband was absolutely adorable, and his white turtleneck outfit was doing wonders for his toned figure underneath, but it was all accentuated with his warm and approachable aura. His smile and cheerfulness towards a mother and her little daughter at the checkout desk also only made you swoon even more. Shaking yourself of this trance you were in, you reminded yourself of the main reason why you visited. determined not to leave without the perfect present for Chan... and maybe even the phone number of that ridiculously good looking man.

Stepping into the wooden floorboards of the store, the first thing you did was smile and reminisce the familiar smells of Christmas. Candy canes, wrapping paper, and warm cocoa scents filled your nose and made your body warm with happiness.

With the ring of a bell signalling your presence, Yuta looked up to see all that evident on your face. Your eyes lit up in fascination and wonder, walking through the small but giant emporium with your eyes glued to the wondrous decorations. The tall shelves of Christmas socks, toys, and sweets made you quickly realize that this store wasn’t like the others in the distillery disterict.

Yuta gently smirked at your reaction and proceeded to eye your every movements, still not breaking away from his current conversation with his coworker Jinyoung. Making your way through the now almost empty shop, you found yourself at the back of the store where the speakers and headphones were. Yuta’s affiliation with you eventually made him just walk away from the conversation, leaving a very confused jinyoung by himself. and then rolling his eyes when he saw what was happening between you two.

Chris always had a passion for making music, so you decided that some good quality headphones would help him a lot. As he was starting out as an aspiring new artist, you looked around for the pair of Beats that Chan had been eyeing. All while in awe of the large spectrum of inventory they had.

“what does this place not have?” you thought continuously.

scanning the wide selection, you spun your head around when a delicate voice came from behind.

“need any help?”

You locked eyes with the same man from earlier and this time again, all you could do was stare. He was even better looking in person, smiling with kindness and a spark evident in his eyes. blushing shyly, you replied back. “just looking for a present for a friend” you looked down again, avoiding his eyes but not failing to catch his name tag. It read out the name of Yuta.

As if reading your mind, Yuta introduced himself, recommending a set of headphones as he did. “I think your friend will like these'' he motioned towards a set of rose gold ones with pink diamonds on the sides. Thinking that Chan had been a girl, you swear you almost choked on your breath right then and there. Just the thought of your male friend’s reaction to such a gift, you laughed loudly before covering your mouth in embarrassment. Yuta looked down at you, smiling at your cuteness and brows furrowing in curiously.``It’s just... he’s this childhood best friend who I’ve known forever, and knowing him he would be absolutely starstruck at such a... feminine style.” You explained trying to find the right words.

Yuta’s eyes widened in realization and he half awkwardly recommended a sleek matte black pair. “I think these might suit him better, don’t you think?” he grinned and looked for your reaction. You nodded and laughed “much better. What’s the quality like?” Yuta glanced from the pair of beats in his hands to your expression. Taking this as his chance, he gently placed them on your head, taking his chance. You looked up at him in surprise, staring into his eyes.

It was only when the familiar lyrics and medley of White by TVXQ played, that you stopped to properly look at Yuta. You loved this song, and the quality was promising. But in that moment, all you could focus on was Yuta alone.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled widely, admiring you just the same. “You tell me” he said smirking.

Pulling them off your ears and breaking out of your trance, you quietly said, “I’ll take them”. All while never breaking eye contact. He hummed in satisfaction and led you to the front of the store. “Come with me” he smiled.

You could say that Yuta’s voice was like soft, smooth honey. Laced with such care and consideration, you were practically at your knees and enraptured with blinding love.

At the front desk as well, Yuta helped you with the checking out and packaging for Chan’s gift. It was the small things that you noticed about him, which made you smile. The way he bites his lip in concentration when wrapping the present, determined to leave a good impression. Or how he doesn’t miss the chance to say Merry Christmas and a good night to his colleagues leaving. These smaller things made you swoon over and over.

“And that” he stated with a satisfactory huff, “is your present! thank you for visiting and have a safe travel” he grinned. “Oh and a Merry Christmas!” he added. You smiled and said the same, making your way to the entrance of the store, but still hesitant to not leave just yet.

Clutching the perfectly wrapped box in your hands, you quickly turned around, dreading a rejection to the coffee date you were about to ask.

“Yuta-“

All of a sudden, you slipped on the wet and snowy floor near the glass door, losing balance and falling forward into the hands of... Yuta himself?

He too had also been hesitant to ask you out on a date, worried that such an amazing girl like you would reject him. But at the same time as you were about to do it, he had already made his way from the cashier to behind you. Instead of reaching out and tapping you on the shoulder, he luckily caught you from falling.

Chans present went high in the air, as you shrieked and slipped in the puddle by the door. Next thing you knew, Yuta’s hand was holding your waist securely, while the other thankfully catched the box of expensive beats. Your arms instinctively found themselves to wrap around his neck, trying to not fall off balance.

After catching you, Yuta breathed a little heavily, chest moving up and down before he asked you if you were alright. Now you two were closer than before, intimately sharing this moment in the store alone. Shoppers and most workers went home to share the remaining last moments of Christmas Eve, while here you were filming a dramatic soap opera “I’m alright sorry about tha...'' your words trailed on, softly taking the time to look at his face better. His breathing was right beside yours, and he smelled like all the best things about Christmas. Chuckling and sighing in relief that you were okay, he warned you to be a bit more careful.

“Don’t want you getting hurt” he said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck as you pulled yourself apart from him. Clearing your throat, you straightened your hair and outfit embarrassingly with huge humiliation. “Sorry it’s the boots” you explained, cheeks reddening. Yuta only smiled and chuckled. Noticing that he still had your present, you reached out and began. “here let me hold this”Your hands wrapped around the edges, but Yuta didn’t budge. He looked you straight in the eyes and confessed what he had wanted to say since the moment you walked in.“I think you’re beautiful” he said softly. His expression changed and he as well started to redden. “Would you like to meet up sometime?”

You were shocked. In disbelief. “Me?!” You asked, pointing to yourself and looking at him as if he had asked the most absurd question in the world. “w-why would you want to do that?” you questioned in confusion. Why would Yuta want to ask you out on a date after catching you from being an idiot?Yuta laughed out loud this time, but moved closer and closer through each step he took. Then his hand came down against the wall beside your head. This was happening. His confidence lingered a bit on you as you didn’t break eye contact through each backwards step you took. Before you knew it, your back was against the entrance door and Nakamoto Yuta was less than a few centimeters away. Fingers clutching the ribboned box, your heart felt like it was about to burst from the tension. “I like you. I’ve only met you tonight and I don’t even know your name but I like you. And I really really want to go out sometime if you’re free.” he said quietly, scanning your expression. You looked up at him with wide eyes and quietly whimpered.

“I’m Y/N”.

Reaching out a small hand to shake and a wide smile, Yuta smirked and returned the hand. “Want my number?” you asked, taking out a pen and looking for a piece of paper in your purse. Yuta shaked his head and stopped you from searching anymore. “You can write on me if you want” he suggested coyly. You laughed and began tracing the digits to your phone number, not even aware of the gaze that Yuta was giving you.

Looking up you flashed one of your signature smiles and slowly reached up on your tippee toes.

*peck*

Giving Yuta a soft peck on his lips, you replied. “Call me!”. you opened the door and practically jumped in excitement on your way home.

Chan was gonna like this story…

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

The Table is Prepared for You

Luke’s spent too much time alone and knows he shouldn’t let anyone get too close. However, Dinah’s the one time that Luke lets his guard down--and he knows he can’t do it again.

Vampire!Luke. Black!OC. Here it is, 14k words!

CW: Death/Near Death.

Enjoy my masterlist.

You can support me on kofi

Shout out to @notinthesameguey for this moodboard (below), well before any of this was finished.

(Dinah’s hair is curly like in the first board, in case there’s any confusion!)

Inspired by: Godspeed James Blake’s Cover and Kill My Time by 5 Seconds of Summer

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The snow is wet under his boots and he almost wishes he could feel just how cold it is cutting beneath the leather jacket. Instead, he feels nothing but the slight crisp wisp of wind against his nose. If his body still pumped warm, he’s sure the tip of his nose would be bright red. Quickly, Luke tucks the curls whipping in the wind behind his ear and keeps his gaze trained on the constantly lapping sea the people--folks crossing the streets, cars blaring by, people brushing past him as they carry on from their subway rides back to the surface.

“Hey!” Luke’s learned from spending time in this city, in all its evolution, just to keep walking. Whoever’s attention needs to be grabbed will either be grabbed or be missed. “Seriously, excuse me!”

Fingers brush over Luke’s jacket and though initially he wants to bristle at the touch, Luke reminds himself it’s dead of winter. No one’s going to be alarmed. Turning, Luke walks himself to the edge of the sidewalk, mostly out of the way. “Me?” he asks.

The young man in front of him is doubled down in the puffy winter coat--down to his knees-- and a gray beanie. Posed in the ungloved fingers is a camera. The boy lifts up the camera, as if that will explain everything. “I-I’m working on my portfolio. I was wondering if I could shoot you right quick. Right here, doesn’t have to be somewhere fancy.”

Luke shakes his head and before he can speak, the young man continues. “I swear, I’m a photography student. I’m so close to down, deadlines right before break. Please, man. You’d be perfect. The whole thing’s about ordinary people. I shoot a few pictures. A quick five minute interview and then, you go on your merry way. Ain’t looking for trouble.”

It’s the backpack, the earnest and pleading look that pulls down the younger man’s brows. His nose is pink, fingers and hands ducking quickly into his coat pockets. “I don’t think you’re looking for trouble. I just--I don’t think I photograph well,” Luke returns, squinting his eyes at the reflection of the sun off the fresh snow.

“Dude, take it from me, you’ve got looks. And all it would take is just the right angles, right about light exposure. Today’s a little hit or miss.”

The sky’s pretty cloudy but every so often there’s a fleck of a sunshine and Luke does his best to avoid it. The snow clouds will be leaving soon and that means Luke should be too. And it’s probably dumb to say that leaving New York is hard, the memories that are linked here. But it almost feels like home--if he could remember what home really feels like.

Luke bites down onto his lip, head still shaking. Maybe the shaking will loosen the memories and bring them back to the surface. Maybe the shake will deter the young man’s insistence. Luke doesn’t really know how he photographs, don’t remember the last time he’s seen himself, as whole, as fully a being. Besides, Luke shouldn’t be photographed. No one’s seen him in a couple hundred years and Luke needs it to say that way, needs to continue under the radar. Not that anyone that would have a vendetta against him wouldn’t be able to find him away. The world’s really only so big in the grand scheme of things--there are only so many continents and so many countries, and so many corners to hide in the world.

Looking over the streets, Luke almost laughs at how he picked one of the busiest and most densely populated places to hang out for a while. Maybe it’s because with so many people around there’s no way anyone would pick him out of a crowd. Until now, until some kid stopped him on the fucking street.

“Just for your class?” Luke asks, flicking his squinted gaze back to the man. The wind’s picked up again and he’s facing into it, harshly. It’s nearly drying his eyes out.

“Yeah, just for my class. Look,” he says, pulling out his phone. His fingers look an unhealthy color, like they’re tittering on too pink to be okay.

“How long you been out here?” It’s a soft question that nearly gets swept up into the gust of wind that passes.

“Couple of hours. Class starts around 1 and I need this last shoot as soon as possible.” He holds out the phone. Luke takes it, scrolling through the webpage. It’s a sleek design, each photoshoot highlighted by one picture. When Luke tapes onto it, it takes a second to load and then more pop up. There’s a quick paragraph, maybe two, and the rest of the photos.

“Where should I pose?” Luke asks, handing the phone back over. Luke will be gone soon anyway and they can’t really stand to be out in the cold for much longer anyway.

“Wait, seriously?”

With a nod, Luke tucks more hair back and is quick to place his fingers back into his pockets. “Yeah, just tell me where.”

The young man looks around for a second, the backpack hitting the pole of the street sign. Luke winches, hoping there’s no expensive equipment in the bag. “Over here,” he says with a nod over to the corner. He starts to push through the stream and Luke follows behind him. They pause under some stairs, most likely the fire escape for an apartment complex. “Look over your shoulder for me right quick.”

Luke keeps his body pointed to the man and then looks over his shoulder for a second. “Like this?”

“Perfect. How long have you lived in the city?”

Luke shrugs, turning his attention back to the man. He inhales with a hiss, trying to think. “Couple years? Maybe three. Feels so long and it’s really not.” Luke chuckles, ducking his head for a moment. “God, my memory’s shit.” Luke thinks he hears the shutter go off but he’s not sure.

“No, I feel you on that. I moved back for school and somehow time doesn’t feel quite the same here in the city. You in the city for modeling?”

Luke feels the shock raising his brows. “Me? Modeling?” A small laugh escapes him, mostly in sarcasm. “No, no, just have some family here. Moved from Delaware. Just seeing where life takes me, I guess.” Luke combs his fingers through his hair, pushing it all back. What he needs is a haircut, and to probably get a move on that whole finishing his trek up north. Life’s taken him plenty of places before and now it feels less like living and more like visiting. It’s going back to all those places from before and wondering how long could a life actually feel.

“So you just float? Taking you wherever the wind blows?”

It’s only at the question that Luke realizes he hasn’t dropped his hands from his hair. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, dropping his hands. “It’s just easier. In some ways. Like I don’t really have to think too much--just find a job that pays well enough, experience what there is to experience and then, when it’s all said and done, just move on.”

“Guess you’ve learned to pack light, huh?”

Luke grins, a bit of laughter escaping him. “You could say that.” It’s not even light. It’s like having nothing. There’s the essentials of course, some special pieces that have been accrued along the way, but nothing with real weight besides memories. And even those fade eventually. He remembers certain things, important things. Like his mother’s face, or the way his brother would tease him sometimes. But he can’t remember where he grew up, not completely, just hazy rewatchings when he closes his eyes for a moment's rest.

“What about you?” Luke asks, absentmindedly reaching up to the bottom of the stairs above his head. “You said you moved back here?”

“Yeah, I was born here. Family moved to Virginia and then I moved back. Missed it here.” There’s another shutter of the camera. “So you taking stuffy office jobs? Chasing a passion? You’re a traveler, nonetheless.”

“Odd jobs--mostly night shifts. This city never sleeps and it’s almost better to be awake when mostly everyone else is asleep. Feel less judged.” Right now he was working in the hospital. And though, it wasn’t always easy on him, he enjoyed it.

“I don’t think anyone’s judging you too harshly. Probably most likely out of envy.”

“Thanks,” Luke says with an awkward chuckle. “Guess I’m still awkward. Unsure of myself.” And it’s easy to be unsure when you’ve seen nearly 150 years on the earth, like what else can you do? What else is there to do besides just float?

“I’ve wondered if it’ll ever go away,” the young man says, pulling down the camera from his face. “Will we ever be sure of ourselves?”

Luke nods, pondering the thought. “The one thing I’m sure of is that every choice I’ve made, I made for a reason. Like even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, I had a reason. And I hope you-you feel that way eventually. Every choice made had a reason behind it.”

“That’s kind of comforting. Like, I’m not making choices on guess, I’ve got a reason for it.”

“Yeah.” There’s a small lull and Luke looks back to the sky. The clouds look like they’re about to part. “Are-are we good? Got what you need?”

The man nods. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks. What’s your name by the way?”

“Luke. Yours?”

“Andrew. Um--” There’s a moment's pause and Andrew reaches into his pockets again. He pulls out a piece of paper and finds a pen from the pocket of his bag. “I’ll write down the name of the site. The pictures will be up by the end of the week.”

Luke takes the paper with a nod. “I look forward to seeing them.” He pockets the note and says goodbye. He’s quick in his strides to correct course back to the subway entrance and bounces down the stairs. He winds down the tunnel and finds his yellow card in his wallet. The swipe is quick as the light turns green for him to pass through.

It’s only as his boots click against the concrete and they echo, that Luke looks at the murals, the way the eyes follow his journey. It’s not regret that settles into his gut. He doesn’t regret stopping to help Andrew. Luke hopes that Andrew is somewhere warm or on his way to somewhere warm in all honesty. But maybe what bugs Luke is that he has plans. He had plans to linger in New York for at least another six months before moving again. His last visit in Delaware had lasted nearly two years and in all truth, it was nice to settle in somewhere. But Luke knew if he got too settled in, he was going to run the risk of getting comfortable. There was a guy he had started talking to. They guy always come in late to the gym and they’d talk for a while as Luke wiped down the gym equipment. That was Luke’s sign to get out of dodge, to try and start over.

Sure, Luke had his degrees. He had done the whole career thing. The only thing about that is building a legacy--having a face plastered somewhere so he did his ten years or so and then slipped from the grid. Went back to school, took classes in a smattering of things that weren’t related but interested him. Sure there were better things to do than work nights at gyms, or do the late shift at a theater, or wipe down dorms at colleges, but it kept him anonymous.

Now Luke would mostly likely not be anonymous for much longer. Who knows what could happen once those pictures get posted. And Luke really couldn’t risk staying in town too much longer to find out either. So the eyes follow him, but he won’t be around for a long while. Luke hopes that they remember well. He’s sure the next time he comes back around those murals will look different, there will be more other faces to watch him click his boots to the train.

The eyes do eventually become real. Sitting in the hospital, listening to the constant keep of the heart monitors, Luke knows almost immediately people are watching him. “Going a different route than the scrubs, Hemmings.”

Luke looks up from his cup of coffee, brows pulling into each other. It’s one of the pediatric nurses, Lucy. “I’m sorry?” he laughs.

She holds out her phone. The night is chilly and both of them should be wearing jackets. But there’s no use anyway. Luke knows he’s got to get back to the second floor and help get some rooms ready. Lucy could be paged at any second. “When I was grabbing my nutritious honey bun, your face popped up on my timeline.”

Luke takes the device and sees his photos, hand buried his hair as he’s posed underneath the stairwells. It is a great photo if Luke’s going to be honest. The exposure is just right even if it was a little cloudy that day and a quick skim through the paraphy tells him Andrew got a lot more from Luke than just an awkward conversation with lines like, There’s an uncertainty, an air of hyper self awareness to him. But through it all, there’s a caring heart and the want to settle--maybe that’s what we all share, a yearning for something, no matter what it is. We are wanting people. I don’t know what Luke wants; I can’t even fathom a guess. But I do know that I want him to know that he’s compassion doesn’t go unnoticed and even though it didn’t seem like I would get this project finished, I appreciate his willingness to help a stranger.

“Andrew--he needed some help with his portfolio for photography school.”

“I keep telling you with a heart of gold and looks to kill you shouldn’t be changing bed sheets and dumping stool,” Lucy says, taking her phone back. The air’s cut by the crinkle of her plastic wrapping, her teeth sink into the icing and sweet dough.

“It’s not all bad,” he counters, sipping his cup once again. “Last week, the older woman on floor 5, that kept saying she was going to bake for everyone--you hear about her?” Lucy nods, a soft hum coming from her. “She sent me flowers. Said I had the neatest sheet tuck she had ever seen. It’s not all bad.” Luke omits the times he sat up with her, fetching her water when her kids had to leave or when she just wanted a chat later in the evenings, he stopped to chat with her.

“You getting sweet with the older woman, I see? Tell me, trying to get into a will?”

Barely managing to keep the sip of coffee in his mouth, Luke covers his mouth with a hand. His amusement wrinkles his nose and as the sip goes down, he lets his laughter erupt from him in the squeaks. “No, not at all.”

Lucy shrugs, her ponytail starting to fall just a little. “Look all I’m saying is you got in good with an older woman--she’d get you straight. No more sheet tucking for you.”

Luke takes her snack so she can readjust the hair tie. “When I start to really struggle, I’ll consider it,” the sentence falls with the tail end of some giggles. Silence settles back around them cut by the sips and crinkles and inevitably a pager, Lucy’s signal to twirl back into her Wonder Woman suit.

“One of these days, I’ll be able to finish a snack. Want the rest?”

“No thanks. Gotta keep my figure now,” Luke teases.

The half honeybun lands into the trash with an echoing thud and Lucy rushes back through the side doors but not before throwing over her shoulder, “You’re figure is fine. The older woman would kill to plumpen you up anyway.” Luke doesn’t doubt that. His own mother would also heap his plates with seconds, even if he didn’t ever ask for them.

The morning sky hasn’t fully cracked open yet when Luke finally gets to leave, his own jacket tucking away the seafoam green color of his scrubs. There’s usually not too much life happening as he’s leaving. The end of this shit doesn’t feel much different than the others. However, in the ten minute shuffle to the subway, Luke doesn’t miss the lingering glances. Even as his body jostles with the not completely steady rattle of the train, he can feel eyes on him.

He keeps his head down. If he doesn’t give in, the stares aren’t real. But one less stop from his neighborhood, he risks a glance up. A few heads turn away, but a couple people continue to gaze at him. He wonders if it’s the dirty blonde of his hair, or his pointed nose that seems to be holding their attention. The train lurches to a stop, doors hissing as they open. Only a handful of people step onto the train and their presence cuts the tension of recognition for a moment. Though Luke fears that that tension will haunt him.

The sun cuts through the skies just as Luke fetches his keys from his pocket and scurries inside his complex. Waiting for the tiny apartment’s elevator to open, Luke knows he has to get out of town and soon while he’s at it. His job can replace him. He can tell them anything, and be gone within the day. As the elevator takes him up, Luke’s already drafting the email to his landlord about his unfortunate rushed exit.

By the setting of the sun, Luke’s apartment is packed up into his two suitcases and duffle bag. He rolls his bags behind him as his boots click on the concrete. The murals watch him traveling down their corridors and Luke’s hoping they memorize the way he looks, because this is their last meeting. As the walls of concrete whizz by, Luke keeps his eyes trained to the ground. He’s not entirely sure where he’s going from here. Luke had planned to continue up and cross the border into Canada. But that plan relied on a little bit more time, smuggling his belongings across the lines well before he planned on jetting.

It’s okay though. In the night, he can still get across. As the train comes to its stop, Luke thinks he has to get off eventually. And this stop is as good as any. So he climbs to the surface. He’s not too far from the bus terminals and he knows the airports not too far either. But he can’t fly, or he shouldn’t fly. It’s only as he gazes over the neon lights lighting up the darkening sky, that the craving hits him.

Coffee, as well as tea, are one of the few things from his previous life that Luke still craves. It’s much more about the taste that soothes him. That and it’s easy to fake being warm with a piping hot cup of coffee or tea in his hands. Luke notices a small diner, just as two people exit from it. He’s heard about the place, hasn’t gone in just yet but maybe he ought to now and buy himself some time on his next move--he needs a paper trail, even if it goes cold.

Inside the diner is bright, a little cramped in the way of seating. “Booth or counter?” the hostess asks.

“Booth,” Luke returns and follows as she waves for him. The red accents do a number to date the place but it’s well kept for how long it seems to have been around. Sinking into the squeaky leather, Luke thanks the hostess for the menu.

“Anything I can start you with?”

“Coffee. Cream and sugar.”

She nods. “Water too?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” The menu reminds Luke that he wishes, deeply, that his appetite hadn’t left him. He can eat food and does, time to time, but on the whole, nothing is quite as satisfying anymore. It’s the plate of fries that Luke keeps eyes, even as the mug and glass are placed.

“Need more time with that menu?”

“Yes, please.” Then it’s just Luke once again, eying that plate of fries and knowing that even if he does get it, he won’t get more than a few down before his stomach clenches.

“Let me guess.” Luke knows that voice. Though, it’s been nearly sixty years since he’s heard it. “It wasn’t me, it was you.”

“Dinah,” Luke breathes out, unsure if his eyes are actually seeing what he thinks they are taking in.

She grins, hair just as curly and large as it was the last time he saw her. And the more Luke gazes at her, the more he notices, not much has changed about her. Her skin is still tanned. Her eyes still crinkle just a little in the smile. “It’s been, a long time,” Luke starts, unsure of how to phrase the question.

“Got space for one more?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Luke waves to the seat opposite of him and she slips into the booth, the leather squeaking underneath her weight too. Luke’s looking for any sign of the time’s that past--a wrinkle, bags under the eyes, anything. But all he sees is Dinah, when she was 28. It’s the same Dinah that would get up during karaoke and belt out songs like she was the one recording it in a studio. It’s the same Dinah that he walked back to her place after an impromptu meeting, and though coffee at her place sounded innocuous, he knew then what that twinkle in her eye meant.

“Shocked to see you here. Coming or going?”

“Leaving, actually.”

“Funny how life works.”

Luke furrows his brow, head cocking to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Just got into town. Thought it would be nice to have a familiar face to show me around.” Her gaze, behind the dark brown eyes, is heavy. Her fingers play at the corner of the napkin box.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Wait--did you know I was here?”

“The internet is quite literally the world wide web,” Dinah chuckles.

The photos. She must’ve seen them. And even if she had seen then, how did she get to New York so fast? Why would she even be looking for him? “That it is,” Luke agrees, carefully stirring the steaming drink in front of him. He can’t get over how she hasn’t aged at all. There’s nothing. She doesn’t even seem to be walking with a limp or have difficulty sitting down. As if she had somehow frozen herself in time.

There was no way though. Who would’ve turned her? It hadn’t been him. And Luke hadn’t heard anything about attacks on human in a long time. Was Dinah not even human when they met? Was she something else? Before Luke can think of his next question, the waitress comes back. “How’s that menu looking?”

“Great,” Dinah returns. “Just a plate of fries.” There’s not even a blink of shock at the order and soon, it’s just Luke and Dinah again.

“So, how--what have you been up to?”

Dinah shrugs. “Not much. Still singing, making ends meet. What about you?”

“Just making it really.”

“Still bouncing around, huh?”

Luke nods. “Yeah, you know me. Can’t stay in one place too long.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” The sentence comes out heavy, the end of it tilting up just a little in anger, maybe it’s resentment.

Luke knew he shouldn’t have gone in for coffee. He knew what Dinah was looking for, what she was hoping to get. Luke liked to blame it on the fact that he hasn’t properly eaten in a while. He blamed that for his clouded judgement. The truth of the matter is that Luke wanted more out of it too. He wanted to sip on their mugs, at the dining room table. He wanted to move to the couch too. He wanted to give in. But he knew he couldn’t. The moment she got in too close, the moment he didn’t have that mug warming his hands--it would be all over for him.

“It wasn’t because of you,” Luke counters. “My leaving wasn’t because of something you did.”

Dinah exhales, but nods. The plate of fries is placed between them and they smile up at the hostess, watching her disappear towards the counter to wrap more silverware. Dinah picks up a fry and munches on it, eyes lifted up and away.

“You know,” she says after swallowing the bite. Her hands stretch out across the table. Instinctively, Luke pulls his hands back, attempting to duck them under the table. But she’s just as fast, if not faster and before Luke can get his hands safely out of her each, her fingers are pressed into his skin. “I always wondered what that would’ve felt like.”

She should be seeping warmth into him. She should be pulling her hand back and hissing at how cold his skin is, but instead, all Luke can feel is the weight of her fingers. How she’s pressing into his forearms and there’s actual pressure to it. “No,” Luke whispers, snapping his head up to look at her.

Dinah’s eyes are locked in on how her hands looked wrapped around the leather jacket. Luke curls his hands around her exposed wrists. “A lot’s happened since the last time we met, if I’m honest,” she says. It’s only as they lock gazes that Luke knows. Even if she doesn’t ever say the word--Luke knows the truth.

“Are you close by?” Luke asks.

“All I have right now is my car. But I was looking to book a room for the night.” Dinah finishes the sentences with another handful of fries. It’s not enough of a dent to be believable, so Luke goes in for a handful too and the second the salt hits his tongue, his throat wants to close up, wants to tell him that this is not the thing it wanted. But he knows he can get it down.

They split the cost of the ticket and then Luke follows her towards her car. He can’t shake the feel of how she was actually able to press into his skin and it felt like something. It didn’t hurt, but it was real. When he left her that night, sixty years ago, she was warm. Her blood pumped in her veins and Luke had to swallow down every urge to run his tongue over her neck, let his teeth graze her skin just to feel the quickened pulse.

Dinah’s trunk is full with her own bags. However, Luke is able to squeeze in the bigger suitcase into the trunk before he slips the last two into the backseat. Before Dinah can even turn the key over in the ignition, Luke’s grabbing her hands again. She doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t hiss. “Either I’m insane or I’ve finally croaked.”

Dinah chuckles, slipping her hands from his. “Last time I checked, it took a hell of a lot to kill a vampire.”

Luke stares at her profile, if he had a heart to race it would be right now. Who changed her? What had Dinah gotten herself into to wind up like him? Luke runs the tips of his fingers along her jaw and then down to her neck. And there’s nothing. Much like him. No steady thrum just below the surface of the skin, no blood pumping in their veins. He presses down, nails into her skin and he’s met with some resistance. “Holy shit.”

Luke’s only ever run into other vampires in hunts, or when new floaters happen to cross into the town he’s lingering about in. Most of the time, they only pass each other with a nod of recognition. It’s a simple act, let’s them both know there’s no trouble and keeps the number of enemies low. Luke’s never had many of those. Once or twice a vampire would come down after him about territory and he’s never really fought anyone about that. There was always a way to hang out and not cross any lines. Though, Luke hadn’t run across anyone else like him in at least 45 years. It had always been a lonely existence, but it was made exceptionally isolating when Luke felt like he was the only one on the fucking planet like this. Part of him is happy that Dinah found him. He’s relieved to know that he doesn’t walk about the living as the only living dead.

“What happened?”

“Now ain’t that the million dollar question.” The car finally rumbles to life and the radio plays softly, an old school jazz station. “First, though, where are we headed? You know New York better than I do.”

Luke nods, exhaling. If she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, then he won’t push it. He glances out of the window and rattles off directions to a hotel that isn’t too far from them. And not too far from that is a motel just in case the first option doesn’t work. Dinah’s silent the rest of the drive. It wouldn’t be so bad if the drive took the five minutes it was supposed to take in theory. However, the lights catch them often and they sit idle, in silence, knowing something brews beneath the surface but never acknowledging it fully.

Could have Dinah been looking for him long? Considering she hadn’t seemed to age past what she looked like sixty years ago, she definitely had to have been turned soon after Luke left. The questions all build on his tongue but he only directs her down the blocks, only lets keep straight, or make this right escape his mouth. When they pull up to the hotel, and see it bustling with folks, Luke thinks about Dinah. Had she built up a tolerance to being around humans yet? She’s still relatively young in the life span of a vampire and Luke wondered if this many people around would be setting her up for failure.

“We can go somewhere else,” Luke suggests. “I can check us in and you can just wait in the car until I get the keys.”

“I’m okay,” Dinah returns, brows pulled together. “Are you comfortable?”

“No, I was-I was just thinking about you that’s all.”

Dinah shrugs, grabbing a backpack from back behind the driver seat and Luke pulls out his own duffle bag. Dinah’s gait is a little fast, not too fast that it looks completely unnatural. But seeing her still learning, or relearning everything she once was so good at, makes Luke smile. The learning curve isn’t a smooth turn. There are a lot of mistakes. Not blinking enough, having to make sure you’re seen eating, or something, keeping as warm as you can. Luke’s learned some tricks, hand warmers in his pockets, holding onto thermos with hot tea. Being seen in the day just enough that no one suspects anything but not bouncing about in sunlight for too long.

It’s only in the elevator, as a few more people climb in and Luke and Dinah scoot closer together, hands brushing again that Luke thinks about what she said in the diner. I’ve always wondered what that would’ve felt like. How did she know Luke was like her? The elevator stops and a family gets off. Luke reaches forward and hits for the top floor. Dinah looks up to him, brows furrowing together.

He shouldn’t have given into her so easily back at the diner. He should’ve stayed their longer and asked her more questions. He should’ve investigated more about what she was doing in New York. He shouldn’t have thought about they way she felt, gently brushing up against his shoulder on their walk up to her place. He shouldn’t have thought about the way she looked at him. Memories were deadly. He found Dinah at a bar. He was playing with a band at the time. Nothing too big, just enough to pay his rent in LA. But back then, it was about the love of the thing and not how much money could be attained. She was performing at the open mic night. It was just her and her ukulele but she played it so well, her heavy voice echoing around the bar. She has vocals too big, too bright, too smooth to be captured into four walls. Luke went up to compliment her, just to let her know that he recognized her talent. He wasn’t often one to go up to people. But by then he had spent almost a hundred years on the planet and hiding away in forests was getting exhausting. Luke took his venturing out to the humans slow and steady before finding his comfort level.

And it doesn’t even help now that he’s remembering the way she called him just to talk and how they walked the beach late that night before she drove both of them back to her place. Her hair blew in the breeze off the salt water and she smelt like strawberries with a hint of something else, that at the time he hadn’t been able to place, but found it out to be a kind of hair grease. He can smell it now, as she stands next to him.

The level their room is on finally comes up but neither one of them steps off. Instead they let the doors close and carry up to the top. Once on the top floor, they take a step off and Dinah waits. If they wanted to get onto the roof they’d have to find a staircase and fast before someone just sees them standing about and not heading to a room. Luke peels off the left and she follows, pushing her back up higher on her shoulder. She is silent as she follows and thankfully, at the right turn at the end of the hallway they’re met the stairs. Up they go, and even the locked door, it does not remain locked. The night looks different up this high--they’re closer to the stars, or what would be stars but are more than likely just the lights reflecting off the city below.

“Who sent you? And what do they want?”

“No one sent me, Luke. What’s going on?”

“No one knows. I haven’t told a soul what I am. But you know. I didn’t leave you a note when I left. So how do you know? Are they using you as a lure to get to me?”

Dinah stares up to the sky, trying to keep the tears at bay. Her throat seizes for a moment. “You left. And I went looking, hanging out at the bars we used to go. I couldn’t find you. So I asked a couple folks around. And I fucking asked the wrong questions, I guess. Or maybe I was asking the wrong folks.”

Wrong questions? What wrong questions could she have been asking? Luke didn’t keep close to anyone. Or he tried not to at least. He wasn’t always good at it. Seeing as Dinah’s standing in front of him right now. Luke wants to take a step forward. He wants to give into her. Her gaze hasn’t dropped from the skies and he can see the way her throat constantly works, as if tears are produced in the throat, as if that will keep her from crying. “Who were you talking to? What are you talking about? You sure it’s not the council?”

Dinah shakes her head. “No one’s after you Luke. But me. I could’ve given you up. I could’ve let you be, but I couldn’t. Not after what happened.”

“That’s the thing, nothing happened Dinah. As much as I wanted to, as much as I thought about it, nothing happened that night.”

She shakes her head, lips pushed together into a tight line. “No, you left and I thought it was weird and I wanted to be angry with you. But most of all, I was confused. I wanted to know why had left. And damn, it wasn’t like you left that night and I ran into two weeks later. You completely disappeared. No one at the bar knew where you went. I talked to the guys that were in your band. Two of them had not a clue where you had gone and they were pissed, but they moved on. Mike talked to me later, told me I should just let the whole thing go. He kept saying I was eventually going to bark up the wrong tree at the right time.”

“Mike?” Luke questions. Mike was always a little out there, that was undeniable. He was deep into his history and deep into the supernatural. But not in any sort of way that made Luke super suspicious of him.

Dinah nods. “Yeah, he left before I really as him what he was going on about and when I called him the next day, I got no answer. Didn’t shock me. But then the rest of the band noticed Mike had just turned up missing. Mike and I--we started hanging out more. Even though I thought it was a little strange at first, he was definitely still sweet. That didn’t sit well with me. I waited for a little bit, then made a police report. And I don’t know. Maybe that’s what tipped the scales. Or maybe the scales were tipped from the start. I’m leaving the bar one night after a show, the rest of my group’s left already. But I hung back to watch the last few people play. And these two guys keep buying me drinks. I took the first one, just to be polite and they were kinda cute.

“One drinks turns into two. Two drinks turns into them approaching me. They ask me about my music; it all seems fine. We have good conversation. They leave the bar before me. They fucking left! That’s what will never fail to get me. They fucking left and halfway to my place. I get the feeling that I’m being followed. I don’t see anyone behind me. But I’ve always trusted my gut. So I start picking up the pace a little and I round the corner. Run into the same two guys before the bar. We chat for just a little bit longer. I keep fidgeting because I can’t see if anyone’s behind me. Everyone seems not suspicious. They offer to walk me home.”

“They were following you,” Luke deduces. “And they cut you off after they realized you were picking up on them to make it seem like a big whole coincidence.”

“Yeah. We walked and they asked me some questions about who I knew out in L.A. They were new in town and were trying to get their footing. So I was telling them about my band, and I mentioned Mike and your band. Never mentioned your name. Didn’t even want to utter it, or think about it. But just that small connection was the tiny piece. We got to my place and I was getting ready to tell them goodnight when one of them hauled me inside. He was really cold to the touch. I tried to fight back but, it wasn’t even like anything I did affected them. They kept asking me about you and if I knew. I didn’t know what they were on about. I was like, the guy up and left me and his friends, don’t know anymore than that.

“They kept saying I had to know something Mike knew a lot, gave it all up very quickly. The other one kept smelling my hair and neck and I could feel how sharp his teeth were. I told them I didn’t want to die. I would give them anything they wanted, I just didn’t want to die.” She can see the sinister gleam to their eyes, even now. They way they looked at each other, sharing the same thought. All Dinah knew is that she’d do whatever not to die.

“They were from counsel? The two guys?”

“Don’t really know for certain. I haven’t seen them since, though I went looking. They tortured me. Small bits along my arms and legs, saying that I would tell them everything I knew. And they warned me that others that caught wind of my explorations wouldn’t be so generous. But all I really remember is just how my body felt like it was going cold but also every nerve ending felt like it was being stabbed, over and over and over again. I think I blacked out once or twice from the pain. I remember small bits of them arguing and then I woke up later in a shallow grave.”

“They buried you?”

“Guess so. I’m not really sure what happened but I think I was carried when I heard them bickering. And when I came too, my arms were crossed over my chest. I could feel things crawling on me. First thought was I was in a sewer or something, but then things felt kinda loose. Stuff was in my nose and it smelled earthy. I panicked at first but it didn’t take me too much longer before I clawed my way out, realizing I had been buried.”

“So what did they want with you that had to do with me? Do you know who council is or what it is?”

Dinah nods. “I know who they are.”

It’s a fact, cold as it falls from her lips. Luke gazes at her, the way she blinks rapidly. His body is carrying his forward. One step, then another and soon, he’s closed the gap between them. He takes her hand, thumb stroking at her knuckles. “Hey, it’s alright.”

A harsh exhale leaves her, a scoff--it carries all the pain she’s yet to utter. Luke hears how heavy it is. Dinah finally brings her gaze to Luke’s face. The piercing blue eyes and button nose. It shocked her initially. When she saw his picture pop up on her social media. He hadn’t aged a day, it was as if someone had found a way into her memory of Luke and perfectly recreate it.

Dinah holds a steady gaze as she talks. “Council were the ones that found me. I stayed out in the woods. I didn’t know what had happened to me, but I knew it wasn’t good. And I wanted to cry, but it hurt too damn much. Being in the sun hurt. I was in pain, and I couldn’t tell what would ease it. In the day, I had to find ways to hide, tucked into trees, finding tiny caves or places to hide. Some hikers came by. I smelled them. And I knew, or at least I figured what it might be, what I might’ve turned into.

“Council found me. Apparently, there aren’t many of us hanging around the parts of LA. They were coming into town anyway to see how the rest of us were holding up, behaving. They caught the two that tortured and turned me. They were trackers of the council. Only sent out to sniff out the town. They found Mike, tracked him down. They found me. Apparently, they had actually killed Mike, but not me.”

Luke always knew those guys were getting older and possibly dead. He tried not to linger too much in the past. He didn’t read obituaries. He didn’t even halfway have social media. Luke liked to think that they would always be able to grow old though. That they would always have the one experience he did not, they could live a life. They could settle down. They could see children grow up and have grandchildren, even great grandchildren. Luke was stuck, permanently.

“Fuck, not Mike.” Mike--well, he was Mike. In all his eccenteries, he was still a good guy, he had been planning on asking this girl that he had been seeing to take a step up in their relationship. Or that’s what Luke last remembers. Luke pictured Mike married, a house full of dogs, maybe a couple kids. That idea suited Mike, who liked the calmer things in life. It still guts Luke though, shoulders sagging. He turns away, looking out over the city. God, Mike dead such a horrific death--terrified and unsure of what was happening to him or why he was the one targeted. And if Luke had just kept to himself, if Luke hadn’t been so fucking cursed to be lonely.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Dinah says.

Luke shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m-I’m the one’s that sorry.” There’s a silent pause. “Fuck,” he exhales again. “I-I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. Not you and not Mike either.” He can feel his own fingers starting to tremble now. He should’ve stuck around in town. He could’ve intercepted the trackers and told them that Dinah and Mike weren’t aware of anything, that they were just people living lives in all it’s boringness sometimes.

“God,” Luke croaks. “I am so fucking sorry. I should’ve stuck around. I could-I could’ve saved Mike and you.”

Dinah grabs onto his shoulders, though she’s always been a good head shorter than Luke, she does her best. It’s more shoulder blade and back than shoulder. She wants to tell him she doesn’t blame him. Well, at least not now. Before she did. Before she was angry. Before she dreamed of being able to confront Luke and rip him a new asshole. She wanted to know why he left and because he left, it left her like this--not dead but not alive either.

And sure, there’s still some anger. Sure, Dinah wants answers. Most of all, she just wants connection. She has spent the last sixty years, in and out of jobs, mostly holed up, always bouncing from town to town. She was terrified to get too close. But loneliness is heavy. It made her shoulders ache and if she could lay in bed and sleep days, months, years away, she would. Because it was better than walking through this life, if that’s the word to use, alone.

Luke escaped her house, exiting through her own front doors as she went to the restroom and vanished. Dinah hadn’t always planned on tracking Luke down. The council took her in for a couple of decades. She learned the rules and the laws of this new version of herself. But council wasn’t the greatest company. They were too busy giving into every desire, too busy attempting to rule people, and at the time she was merely a servant role. She listened in on meetings, waiting for one of them to ask for a refill of their glass or to fetch a live drinking fountain, as they liked to call humans. And Dinah knew she couldn’t stay there forever. They let her go with ease, surprisingly. Though she has to check in every once and a while. They told her that they were family, and family always checked in on each other.

It didn’t feel like family, but it was something and almost every decade or so, Dinah would think about going back. When she first got back out into the world, she had to figure out how to lay low, make some money to get by in the world, but not stick around for too long that suspicion would be raised. That’s when Luke came back to her, that’s when she realized all the things she wanted previously, the house and the husband, and the kids were something she’d never be able to achieve.

“I was angry for a long time,” Dinah says. “And I don’t know. Call it stubbornness and stupidity, call it having all the time in the fucking world, but I knew I’d find you. I knew I could finally get some answers.”

There’s nothing malicious in her touch. It’s a soft presence, even as she slides her down his back and then it’s gone. They’re standing side by side. “I’ll answer any questions you have.” It’s the least he can do, after everything that has happened. It won’t feel like enough. Even as Luke lets the promise cross his lips, it’s not enough for the amount of years she’s spent hurt and confused, and angry.

“We did pay for a room, so no sense in not using it, don’t you think?” Dinah offers. If she’s honest, she still doesn’t trust the night all too much. Some nights, ones that are too pretty and too serene, make her tense. She knows it’s fear—it’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She still watches over her shoulder. The thing that she can only really be herself in is the same thing that strikes fear into her.

They climb back through the stairs and into the elevator in silence. It’s a little tense, Luke can feel it pressing onto him through the jacket. What questions does she have? Surely, waking up realizing that you’re not dead but not who you used to be is not an easy thing to discover. And surely, there’s part of terror that won’t be leaving her anytime soon. What counselor would be prepared for that either? Luke thought about seeing one. But it never seemed to be a fruitful thought.

The light on the door lights up green as Dinah holds the card to the reader and the gears click. All Luke notices though is the tight line her shoulders are in and the way she’s fast to click the lights on. The door closes with a heavy thud, gears clicking back into place. “What do you want to know?” Luke asks, letting his bag dropping on the left side of the bed.

Dinah takes a seat at the chair in front of the desk. “When you left that night, did you know? About the trackers, about council coming into town?”

Luke shakes his head. “Didn’t have a clue.”

Then it crosses her face, the piece of the puzzle that’s just never click for her. If Luke did know about the trackers and did leave to be avoided, it would make sense. If Luke was attempting to cover his own ass, and Dinah just happened to be in the crosshairs, it would suck, it wouldn’t make her happy, but it would finally make everything make sense. “So why the hell did you leave?”

Luke sighs, staring at the gray and green in the carpet of the floor. His brain’s telling him to say, had to. “I couldn’t stay in town.”

“But you just said that you didn’t know about the trackers!” Dinah pops up from the chair. Even though it’s a good six feet between them, she covers them before Luke can look up from the floor. Her finger pressed into his chest. “You just said that.”

Luke nods. “I-I know. I mean--” Is he about to tell her the truth? Won’t it sound silly now? Won’t it make him sound like a fucking coward?

“Luke,” she warns. The finger presses in deeper.

“You were human, or I assumed. I was always this,” Luke gestures to himself, as if trying to brush away something, but all he’s done is reveal himself. “We were getting too close. I was letting you get too close.”

“So, so you left.”

“Yes. To be fair, normally, my past doesn’t come back around. I’m the only one that ever remains. You know, though. You know when you invited me inside that it wasn’t a friendly chat. I knew it. I wanted to give in. I mean, fuck, you’re,” the words are failing him. Because all he can see in her eyes are just how dark they are, just how much they don’t want to let light in, but have always shone brightly. “I found you really attractive. Find? Found? Fuck, I don’t know anymore. But I couldn’t give in. You’d know something was different. You’d know I was different.”

“Because you run cold?”

“It’s not-not just that. That’s a give away for sure. But, we-- we don’t always feel a hundred percent human. And sure, I could’ve explained away that, and the fangs, and literally anything physical. But if I let myself give in that night, I’d have to let himself give in every night after that.”

Dinah furrows her brows. “Did-did you like me?” She won’t ask if he still does. That was so many decades ago. By now, Luke has surely run into someone new. He had to have moved on.

“Like feels much too simple. But yeah, I did like you, Dinah. I had spent a lot of time hiding before you met me. I was lonely and then I met the guys in the band. And then I met you and for those hours at night, when we played shows or hung out drinking, I almost remembered what it was like to be human. It was a lot easier to leave before anything happened.”

Her gut feels like a storm. She’s angry--that Luke left, that she got attacked, that Mike died. But she’s also heavy with sadness, all those feelings she thought she had buried are resurfacing. She liked Luke too. She thought maybe she had found someone that was finally going to see her for who she was, not what she looked like, not the color of her skin. And sure LA at the time wasn’t the worst place but it still had it’s issues. Her palms press into his chest and she pushes Luke. It’s hard, more so than what she intended. It sends up backward, with just enough time to stop himself from slamming into the wall, if not through it into the other room. “I thought-I thought for a long time something bad had happened to you. I went around asking about you! I worried myself beyond belief. No one could get a hold of you! You were a fucking ghost.”

Luke catches the lamp as it teeters on the edge of the stand. It’s light flickers before remaining steadily on. “I-I’m sorry.” But sorry really doesn’t fix it, he knows. Because if Luke hadn’t left in the night, then maybe, Dinah wouldn’t have asked around. And maybe the trackers wouldn’t have singled her or Mike out.

“You know, I almost wish you had known about the trackers. I wish I was just caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“If I knew trackers were coming, I would’ve stuck around. I would’ve shown them that you and Mike weren’t a threat. But I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue. And I’m so sorry about what happened to you. And I wish I could’ve done something.” The rest of the thought stops on the tip of his tongue, but I can’t.

“I hate the night,” she confesses softly. The words sound like they barely want to leave her throat. “I hate it because it’s halfway the only time I can be me, I’m not under a thousand layers. And I hate it because that’s when you left. And I hate it because even though the council killed those two trackers, I still feel them watching me.”

“You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to carry that anxiety either.” Luke finally pushes up off the wall, praying there’s no real damage. He doesn’t dare check now though.

Dinah’s just watching him, attempting to keep the shakes in her hands at a minimum. She can’t tell if she fully blames Luke or not. She can’t know for certain that if Luke hadn't left that she would’ve never been changed. She can’t know for certain that if Luke didn’t leave that the trackers could’ve been stopped, or that they wouldn’t come back. “If you had stayed, wouldn’t you have left eventually? Isn’t that what you’re doing now leaving?”

Luke knows he would’ve left eventually. Even if he didn’t stay around longer, even if he hadn’t run away that night, he would’ve eventually left. It’s all he’s good at--leaving. “I could’ve stayed there forever, no. Eventually, I would’ve left you. But I wouldn’t have left you like I did. I would’ve told you something easy to handle. A bear attack that was terrible. Maybe I tell you I’m leaving to go back home to my family for an emergency and I get on a train and for whatever reason, I don’t make it to the destination I told you I was going. And a letter comes in the mail a few weeks later, telling you what happened because your address is written down on a piece of paper in the pocket of the pants I’m wearing. And that lie would’ve hurt, whichever lie I choose, but it’s much better than just disappearing into thin air. I know that now. I didn’t know that then.

“And I was scared too. I keep moving because I don’t want to get too close. I don’t pursue careers anymore. I take jobs no one wants. I hide because it’s so much easier. Dinah, you terrified me because you reminded me just how human I fucking was at one point. How much I still am some days. I bounce around because I’ve been on this fucking earth for 150 years and it’s only been me. I don’t have a group, I don’t have anyone else. And I could’ve had you--I wanted to have you.”

The night Luke disappeared Dinah left to go to the bathroom and she was using it mostly as an excuse. She wanted to freshen up, rid her breath of some of the tequila she had in her drink. But mostly, she wanted just a moment to think what her next steps were going to be. Luke and her were hanging out pretty consistently, mostly at night, after gigs. She drove around town, across county lines to watch him and his band perform. He traveled for her shows too. That night, they hadn’t made official plans to meet up, but they knew each other well enough to know where to find the other.

It was the walk back, as she stared up at the cut of his jaw and the watched the way he smiled that she felt bold enough to invite him into her place. And coffee sounded better than come inside, hang out with me until I decide if I’ll have the guts to ask if this can go up the ladder, if they could take this a bit more seriously. And sure, they flirted. And sure, Dinah knew she couldn’t have that kind of conversation after sex, but she wanted to know the harm in letting herself go. For all the free spirit she is, Dinah didn’t like jumping into bed with someone that she wasn’t attempting to get serious with. Things were going well, better than she had ever considered to go. And sure there were stares and murmurs about them hanging out. And sure, Dinah worried about her safety at that time too, less so because Luke is white and surely, he wouldn’t turn up in a river.

But when she finally came back from the bathroom, Luke was gone. All that was left behind was a note, on a napkin that said Sorry. And Luke was gone. Dinah hadn’t even heard the door closing behind him on his departure. How could he just leave if he wanted her so bad though?

“Was it just what we are? Did you leave just because you weren’t like me then?”

“It’s not like council gives you a slap on the wrist for getting involved with a human. If they found out, I knew what consequences were at play. I didn’t want and I don’t want this for you. I left because they’d kill me, change you, or kill the both of us. I left because there was no way I could give you a normal life, and that’s what I wanted for you. I saw the looks people gave you hanging around me. I saw what was happening.”

Dinah’s never been the one that got away to Luke. She’s always been the one that Luke let go. She’s the one that if Luke could go back, and tell himself not to leave like he did, he would. If Luke could go back, he’d burn that note, that sorry ass apology. Tucked away, hidden beneath all the fear, is a tiny piece of hope that Luke did run into her again. That she had lived the life he wanted for her, and that she had grandkids and then maybe, they could meet in secret again. That she hadn’t forgotten about him. Truth be told, Luke always had a table prepared for her, a tiny piece of his heart that always remembered the way she laughed and the way purple lights and red lights on stage dazzled against her skin.

“That wasn’t your call. That was mine,” Dinah returns. There’s still a gap between them, from when she shoved him. It feels too wide, too far to close.

“I-I can’t say I was trying to protect without sounding like a fucking idiot, after what happened. But honest to whatever fucking being exists out there, I left because I was scared. I left because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I left because I thought it was the best thing to do. And I know I hurt you regardless. And I know shitty things happened despite my best efforts. But please believe me, Dinah, I didn’t think this would happen. I couldn’t have thought it up in my wildest dreams.”

The lights in the ceiling of the room are bright against the white. Dinah doens’t even blink at the harshness. Luke watches the way she swallows, head shaking side to side. He takes a step, just one and she snaps her attention to him at the movement. His keeps his hands raised. “Di, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” It’s one word. It’s hardly audible. No one’s called her that since Luke left. She makes sure no ones calls her that. He called her that all the time when she called, or after she sang him a new song she was working on. His eyes would always be so bright and he’d smile at her like she was the sun, like she was somehow unbelievable and not real, but somehow still in front of her. “You don’t get to call me that anymore,” she whispers, taking a step back.

Luke inches a little closer. “You gotta believe me. When I say I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have to believe anything. I don’t have to do anything.” But the truth is, she does want to believe him. She does want him to call her ‘Di’ again like he used too. She wants to know that even though it’s been sixty years and even though she’s still angry a little bit, she hadn’t forgotten how easy it was around him.

Luke steps forward again and Dinah doesn’t back away. Though, he does note how close she is to the closet. “Do you remember when we stayed up late, jamming to a new song you were working on? I don’t even know how you managed to do it. But we stayed up almost until sunrise--laughing at everything, even if it wasn’t funny. And I pressed your clothes while you got two hours of sleep. I made you pancakes and you got pissed because I didn’t add chocolate chips to them. And you always put chocolate chips into your pancakes. And you told me to take it to the grave that you thought my pancakes were better than your mother’s. I told you that had to be a lie because I was shit cook, but I didn’t want you going to work on an empty stomach.”

“Of course I remember. And when I got back home, you left a note with the recipe and I don’t know what you did, but I wasn’t able to replicate them.”

“And I had the pancakes that your mom made, you made them for me that next night. And I will say, I have never had better pancakes.”

“Why? Why you bringing that up?”

“Because that night was the first time I gave into you. That was the first night in decades for me that I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t thinking about making sure I didn’t get too close. That was the first night where I thought about what a normal life might look like for me. I watched you sleep and I thought about if that could be normal for us. And it was the first time I was scared shitless in a long time. I was scared when my family died and I couldn’t even be there. I was angry too. And after their funerals, I figured I wouldn’t find that kind of bond again--I would make myself not get too close. And then we stayed up almost until sunrise and I pressed your clothes because you wouldn’t stand for going into work with a wrinkle in that blouse.”

“I’ll have you know it won’t easy getting an office job at that time. I had been a cook or running food for plenty of years prior to that. And I wasn’t going to mess up a good opportunity like that job showing up in a wrinkled blouse.”

Luke laughs, softly, reaching out for her hands. Dinah hadn’t even noticed him creeping in closer to her. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy. What can I do? What can I do now to show you I really mean it? That I’m so sorry for what happened. I’d do whatever it was to make it up to you.”

“I-I don’t think there’s anything you can do. Not right now at least. I need time, Luke. I just--I don’t know what to do right now.”

“We got plenty of that,” Luke counters, brushing his fingers down her jaw. She doesn’t duck out of the touch. She still doesn’t quite feel real under his touch, in front of him. Luke’s sure he’s conjured her up. That he’s going to come to and be sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital and have daydreamed the whole thing up. “There’s plenty of time.”

Dinah can see it, the lean in and she shakes her head. That storm hasn’t gone away in her gut. She still hasn’t figured out if she wants to give into Luke or not. She does want to forgive him. She wants to move on now that she has her answers. “That’s a lot of years, a lot of hurt left.”

Luke nods, dropping his hand from her cheek and takes a small step back. “I understand.” He clears his throat, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. A few curls still fall down in front of his face. “I-I don’t need the bed,” he offers, stepping out of the way.

It’s an out. And Dinah doesn’t take it. “I don’t need the bed either.”

“I-I haven’t gotten used to that, clearly.”

Dinah watches the way Luke works his teeth over his bottom lip. His gaze turned down to the floor. She takes his head, threading her fingers through his. “Thanks. For understanding. For answering, honestly. I believe you, about everything. I just need to sort out my own feelings. Because those feelings haven’t gone away, from all our nights together. I just need to figure out what to do with them.”

Luke doesn’t miss the dark brown on her nails, the way it contrast against her skin but isn’t that much darker than the color of her tanned skin. He looks at the chipping red on his nails, the gel that’s grown out. He almost forgot the manicure. It was self administered, but kind of unevenly applied. “We can just talk then, about whatever, about nothing. I’ve missed a lot.”

“It’s not all that glamorous. Much of it is probably like you know, lonely.”

“Surely you’ve had some adventures though. You worked for council--that must’ve been something in and of itself.”

“They’re old and boring. The better story is me at Mardi Gras for the first time.”

“I’d love to hear it,” Luke smiles. He remembers the first time he stumbled across Mardi Gras, how the music almost never ceased and ate more human food than he ever had in a long time. But it all smelt so good and everyone kept handing him drinks and plates ane he couldn’t say no.

“I’m--I just want to shower first.”

“Okay.” It’s soft and Luke’s slow to remove his hand. He’s forgotten what it feels like to hold someone else’s hand, without fear. She grabs her bag and the bathroom door clicks closed softly behind her. Luke stands there for a moment, watching the handle for the slightest movement, listening to see if the shower starts up. Once the pitter of water hitting the basin starts to echo, he surveys the room.

The wall’s thankfully not damaged in any significant way. The lamp’s in good shape too. Those it’s clear on the rug where Luke skid back just a little. He runs a hand over it, to get rid of the harsh line and finally opens up his own bag. He peels himself out of the leather jacket, draping it over the back of the desk chair. It’s easy to pull out a plain white t-shirt and some shorts for him to change into.

The air unit rumbles and the water from the shower echoes, long after Luke’s changed out of the jeans. He keeps the volume low on the TV and almost goes to turn the overhead lights off, but opts to keep them on remembering the way Dinah talked about the night and how tense she seemed to be walking into a dark room. The mattress gives easily under Luke’s weight. He pushes the pillows all the way up against the headboard and reclines into it. There’s nothing to do right now but wait.

Part of Luke does worry that all Dinah wanted out of him were answers. That she’d manage to slip out some kind of way and she’ll always just be a fragment of Luke’s life, a piece that he would always hunger after but never be able to satiate. However, the bathroom door cracks open and a tiny bit of steam escapes out in the air not occupied by Dinah. It’s just a tank top and leggings but Luke’s quick to turn his attention back to TV. It’s definitely not the gown she used to sleep in all those years ago. But even then, that felt scandalous too. And maybe it’s not even the clothes themselves, it’s just Dinah and the attraction that Luke never lost.

Dinah settles next to Luke on the bed, watching first just the TV screen. “So Mardi Gras was the first time I realized that because I didn’t have hardly any blood in me, getting drunk takes a lot more than it used to.”

Luke tries to hold back his laughter, one hand covering his mouth. “Do not tell me that you were just slamming back drinks and suddenly realized folks were looking at you crazy for not being drunk.”

“No, of course not. I was absolutely told that in order to feel the same affects from alcohol before I required a lot more than before. No, no one told me. Though, my stomach at the time was use a pretty blood heavy diet, so eating and drinking human food made me queasy. So when I vomited shortly after, folks stopped staring so much afterwards.” Luke lets the giggles escape him, shoulders shaking as he holds onto the remote. “I did however, keep that in mind when I went to Carnival.”

Luke quirks an eyebrow. “Are we talking like, a carnival cruise ship?”

Dinah shakes her head, no, laughing. “No, definitely not the cruise ship. Trinidad Carnival. I heard from some other girls about it. They invited me to go with them. I looked good that trip.”

“Was this during the day?”

Dinah waves a hand. “Details, details.” Though they can withstand some sun, they can’t handle a lot of it. And in Trinidad, Luke can only assume there’s a lot of sun. Now, if Dinah knew about the fact that they can handle more sun if they’ve previously had some blood. It’s not a significant increase on the amount of time they can be out in the sun, but it is a decent bump up. “I kept to the night mostly, but I did hunt a little so I could go out during the day.”

Luke nods. It could be from her time with council or it could be just trail and error on her learning. He doesn't push on the details though. “Speaking of hunting, what’s your prefered diet?”

“It’s not polite to ask a woman about her weight you know.” It almost sounds serious until Luke sees the smile lifting her cheeks.

“Pardon me then.”

Dinah shakes her head, a small tuft of laughter trailing off. “I go mostly for animals. But I have had human blood. It’s a treat? Which is not something I thought I’d ever say in my lifetime.”

“It’s wild times for sure.”

“You?”

“Considering I’ve been living in plain sight for the last hundred plus years, I don’t give into human blood much. Was kind of hard when working in a hospital.”

“You worked in a hospital?”

“I changed sheets and cleaned up waste. It wasn’t glamorous.”

Dinah thinks back to when she ran into Luke. At that time, he was working in the local grocery store. Rumor had it before he disappeared he was lined up to take over as manager. Dinah wonders if that was considered as getting too close. “Is Luke your-”

“It is,” Luke answers. “It is my real name. I change the last name now most often. I’ve used aliases for my full name before too.”

“The tricks we all have to learn in order to survive,” Dinah comments.

Luke hums in agreement. “I stopped using first name aliaser a while ago. Luke’s a pretty common name. No one really cares.”

“When you say a while ago, I hope you don’t mind after me.”

Luke shrugs, giving neither a here nor there answer. Though, she’ll know the truth. It didn’t feel like lying before. It felt like survival. It felt like the smart thing to do, to bury who he was and become whomever he needed to be at the time. But after Dinah that all changed. A lot changed after her, but he doesn’t offer that up. He swallows that thought back down and flicks his gaze back to the TV in front of them.

“What’s up next for you?” Dinah knows she shouldn’t ask. She shouldn’t have so much hope in her voice.

“Take a bus somewhere, anywhere really. I’ve learned to travel light and just go wherever feels right.”

“So where feels right to you?”

“North,” Luke answers, turning his head to look at her. She’s picking at her nails, head hanging low on her neck. “What about you?”

At first it’s just a shrug. “I’m kind of tired of moving around. And I feel silly saying that to you. You’ve been dealing with this shit for a lot longer.”

“The only thing that kept you going before was probably the hope of running into me. So it makes sense. Now you’ve gotta recalibrate. Figure out what you want next.”

“I want to settle down. I know I won’t ever have the normal life or the kids, or grandkids that I wanted. But I’ve bounced from a few covens that were nice enough to let me stay and I guess I’ve always been a sucker for the found family idea.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, settling down. Just requires some money and the right place.”

Dinah nods at Luke’s comment. She was a little screwed on the money part. She didn’t have much before her change and in the time she had left the council, a lot of what she made went towards her car and the ventures to find Luke. Now, she had to figure out where she could settle down and what work she could get to help her save up. The conversation turns into a small lull, both of them watching the show on the TV.

Luke didn’t want to lose Dinah a second time. But there was no way he could just ask to join her. Not after she told him that she had to sort of her own feelings. It’s easy to see though. It’s easy to feel how things feel like they’re almost picking back up from when they last met. But it’s not an edge to it, a bit of tension. So Luke lets the question linger on the back of his tongue but doesn’t voice it. The conversation takes a turn to a story about how Dinah’s saved quite a few cats from trees and Luke shares a few stories about his time at the hospital, the older woman that hit on him.

Before they even realize, the sun’s peeking in from the curtains of the room. And even sooner than that, the sun starts to caress the horizons again. Luke doesn’t know where he’s going to wind up, what he’s going to be doing tomorrow let alone what will happen in a couple of weeks. He scribbles down his email though onto the hotel stationary. He makes sure to tuck into the palm of her hand at the entrance of the bus station. “Do you remember the address of the bar we met at?” Luke asks.

Dinah nods. “Yeah I do. It’s not a bar anymore. It’s part of some shopping center now or it was the last time I checked.”

Luke nods, it was a shopping center when he last went by it too. “Meet me there. When you get those feelings sorted out.”

Dinah almost tells him that he should join her. He should stop running and finally settle down. Though, that could be her projecting more than it is what he actually wants. Dinah glances at the paper at the email address scribbled across it. “I can do that.”

“Reach out. Anytime. If that changes, I’ll let you know well in advance.”

“Who’s leaving who?” Dinah asks. It feels stupid to ask right now. If she really didn’t want Luke to go, she had every chance last night and during the day.

“Maybe this isn’t leaving.” Luke needs it to be leaving. He wants to invite himself along. He wants to join along because it’s Dinah. Because he’s got a second shot with her. But he’s not sure if settling down is smart, right now. If it’s what he needs to do. “Maybe it’s just ‘see you around’ like an until next time. Now you don’t have to track me down. “

*********

Luke’s sitting at the bar, a towel thrown over his shoulder. The night’s yet to begin really. It’s early and a Friday night. There’s no doubt in his mind thought that in another couple of hours the entire place will be packed with a flood of people. A new patron wanders in and slides up to the bar. Luke greets them with a smile, taking in the dark curls on their head but he knows it’s not Dinah. He keeps hoping. He keeps praying, but so far in the month and a half he’s been here, she’s yet to show up.

They’ve talked extensively over the last couple of months. Luke went north for a little bit, but ultimately his gut told him to head south and go west. So he did. He landed back just north of where he lived last time out in LA. He had a gut feeling, something that itched the back of his brain and told him that Dinah would just randomly show up in LA. She wouldn’t wait to make a date and time to meet. Luke wanted to beat her to the punch.

“Cider please,” the woman asks, listing off the house brand. Luke checks the ID before reaching for a clean glass and pulls the level for the tap.

“Opening or closing?” he asks.

“Just the one,” they return, handing over the card. It’s a few more seconds before the receipt prints off for them to sign and they disappear to the floor, off to a booth. Half an hour later, more people filter in and head towards their booth.

Luke hangs back, making sure all his bottles are full and ready for the night, that there are no messes on the spill mats though soon he knows there will be the inevitable spill from him. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he steals a moment to look at it. A notification for a new email. On instinct, he’s quick to open it and a brand new email sits in his inbox. The subject sends him into a frenzy.

Meet me downtown. At the dive bar.

Just as Luke goes to reply, not bothering with the body of the email, a voice calls out to him from the bar. “What should a girl drink around here?”

When Luke lifts his gaze from his phone, he laughs. Dinah’s dressed in her old school signature red jumpsuit, those it’s definitely been revamped since the last time he’s seen it. Her hair’s braid back into a mohawk. But it’s still Dinah. “What are you looking for? Something sweet? Something to knock you off your ass?”

“Little bit of both.”

Luke starts to make her a drink, remembering from all their adventures what she’s always been partial to a little tequila. “How’d you find me? This isn’t our meeting spot.”

Dinah shakes her head. “You told me where you got a job. Or did you forget?”

The orange drink settles in front of her and Luke tilts his head to the side. “I don’t remember telling you.”

There’s a snort that cuts through the chatter and music of the bar. “Well, you did. Which is why I’m here.”

A group walks up to the bar and Luke excuses himself for just a second to help them. It’s a minute between setting up shots and drinks, but Luke watches Dinah from the corner of her eye. She stays perched at the bar counter, sipping at the tequila sunrise. Luke winks at her, pulling the last bit of sprite into the drink and sets it onto the counter. The group opens a tab and starts on their way back towards the dancefloor.

Luke’s sure he probably did tell her where he’s working. He’s sure that he wanted to be explicitly clear that he was waiting on her. Maybe it was just his own brain playing tricks on him. Even though he was around forever, didn’t mean he wasn’t exempt from the occasional brain fart. “So, if you’re here,” Luke starts, wiping his hands on the towel, “I hope that means feelings have been sorted.”

“Yes,” Dinah laughs. “Yes they have been. But I don’t want to impede on your job.”

“Told you it was only a matter of time. My shift ends at 2. If you don’t want to hang around, I get it. Just meet me back here and we can go and talk and I’ll make you chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Or I could sit here all night, staring at you, and then we leave for your place for chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Both of those work,” Luke laughs. Briefly, he runs a hand over hers. She’s real and she’s here. From wherever she’s been, Dinah’s sitting across the bar from Luke right now. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on. If you ever found that place to settle down at.”

Dinah squeezes his hand, unsure of what she can say, of what words convey how relieved she’s here, sitting across from him. “We do have a lot to catch up on. But thank God we’ve got plenty of time, right?”

She’s not insinuating what he thinks she is. Luke’s sure he’s standing there with his mouth agape, big enough for any number of insects or birds to make a nice home. Dinah’s laughter cuts above the throaty croak of the bass. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying,” Luke whispers, leaning across the wooden counter to her.

“Maybe I am,” she grins, hands cupping his chin and the slight scruff decorating it now.

It’s quick. Fast enough that Luke swears he can hardly register it, but slow enough that it definitely makes me crave more. Her lips seal over his in a kiss. One he wishes he could’ve had earlier. But nevertheless, the feeling of her lips against his is something that he won’t ever be able to get over; it’ll be implanted into his memory for the rest of his existence.

“One more,” Luke whispers against her lips, feeling her drawing away. “Wasn’t long enough.”

Dinah laughs, but kisses Luke again. A little longer, a little firmer, a little deeper than the first, But she wheels it in, “You’re on the clock, you know?”

“I can very quickly be off it too.”

“Luke!” she reprimands, pushing lightly at his shoulder. “I am going to take this drink, which, here,” she slides cash across the counter, “definitely need to pay for and I’m going far far away from the bar so I’m not a distraction.”

“No, stay. Want you close. And you do not need to pay.” Luke straights up, sliding the bill back towards her.

“A tip. For you and your amazing customer service,” Dinah urges. And whether Luke likes it or not, he obliges before getting back to work. Dinah knew about two weeks after he dropped Luke off at the New York bus station that she was going to find him again. And when she did find him again, she wouldn’t have questions and she wouldn’t have so much hostility. First, she needed to work through all that. The calls helped; they opted not to email too much but the conversations along the way helped alleviate the residual confusion. Contact was often and thorough and when she needed space, Luke didn’t cross it.

She looked for a place to settle down at and she concluded on a place up in Canada. It was nice, mostly tucked away, but still close to a city that she could still get necessities. She hadn’t told Luke about it yet. He hadn’t made any clear indications that he was looking to settle down but it shocked her when he mentioned moving to LA and finding local work. She was under the impression that they would meet again, in LA, when both of them were ready. However, maybe this was an indication that Luke was ready already.

The night goes by fast. Or maybe it just feels fast because this is Dinah’s day. After last round, Dinah lets Luke know that she’ll be waiting outside, in the front lot. The Uber’s and taxis pull away, after picking up their respective groups and leave Dinah in the almost dark. But there’s so much light around from other signs and bars and restaurants, that it’s almost impossible to be in the dark for too long.

“My car’s over here,” Luke states, well in advance, to warn Dinah. She turns to find his throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Where did you park?”

Dinah points her keys in his direct and her car beeps to life. “Few spaces from you.”

“Should’ve known. We can take your car. Mine will be fine overnight.”

“You sure?”

Luke nods, reaching out for her hand. “I’m sure. You’ll just have to give a ride to work--that’s all.”

“Something tells me I think I’d be okay with that.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he laughs, brushing his thumb over her skin. “So, you gotta let me in on what’s been happening with you?”

“You know me. Singing to make ends meet,” Dinah teases. Luke bumps her arm and she knows he wants the truth. She knows that he wants to know about the settling down and the feelings. And she can give all that to him. She can give him all the truth.

Tagging @5-secondsofcolor for morning reads

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starkerkeyz · 5 years

Note

i need a serious crack of the vibrator charging thing for real, i’m gonna die

YOU AND ME BOTH NONNIE but I see you and your arousal pleases me so we in it-

Warnings; D/s, throat fucking, oversensitivity, crying, cockwarming, vibrators, choking, and uh sub drop at the end? Oh and Thor technically listens in on Tony edging Peter to death but he doesn’t know SO UH whatever that is.

Enjoy!

Edited to add A MOODBOARD! 🤩🤩🤩

“I see you’re getting comfortable, kid.” Mr. Stark’s words don’t immediately register as abnormal or dangerous until Peter turns and sees the leer directed at his PS4 and-

Oh.

“Oh, my god, Mr. Stark, uh, you weren’t, uhm- you weren’t supposed to see that?” Peter’s cheeks are flaming so hot it kinda hurts or maybe that’s just the humiliation of having his toy found by his…his…of Mr. Stark seeing his hot pink vibrator out and charging at his PS4 dock.

He hurries over to unplug and hide the evidence and is stopped by a hand on his wrist. Peter looks up and partially over his shoulder, not turning his body but paying attention.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I want you to feel comfortable.” Mr. Stark caresses the thin skin over the wrist he’s still got. He moves behind Peter and gently, slowly, trailing his fingers up from wrist to elbow to shoulder and down, his hands migrating to Peter’s hips and holding on confidently. Peter melts when he feels the first kiss at his neck and Mr. Stark’s heat along his spine.

“I want to use that on you, right now, too. Is it charged enough for a little fun, Babyboy?” Tony says the words wetly, following it up with a gentle breath along the spot he’d been sucking and tonguing between kisses.

Tony rubs at Peter’s hips while he waits; hands sliding forward and back, forward and back, forward and just barely into the hem of Peter’s pants, then back far enough to thumb the dimples above his ass, and forward again- just a little deeper into his pants and then- back again, back toying with the hem above his ass now, and Peter’s started rolling into it so he’s thrusting into empty air at Tony’s tempo.

“It’s, uh…it should be…” Peter isn’t paying attention to the conversation anymore. His entire world is narrowed down to where Mr. Stark is touching him. The older man hasn’t gotten more than a fingertip beneath the hemline and Peter already feels like he’s going to cream himself from anticipation. Everytime those rough hands drag backwards his body follows eagerly and Mr. Stark isn’t shy about letting Peter feel just how affected he is by what he’s doing.

Somehow Peter’s been led into a rhythm where he grinds himself against Mr. Stark’s erection and then fucks forward in little rabbit bursts. His cock is leaking in his jeans.

“Think you’re too sensitive to play for long? You’re being so good for me you deserve a reward but Daddy doesn’t want to expect more than you can give, sweetheart. Give me an answer and a color.” Mr. Stark’s asking a question but Peter’s distracted by the haze of pleasure and his hyperfocus on following his Daddy’s touch by feel alone. The idea that he’s being good and that his Daddy wants to play with him long enough sensitivity might come into question penetrates through the fog of lust enveloping him. Peter blinks his eyes and tries to concentrate as hard as he can on something other than Mr. Stark’s cock.

“Green. I can do it, Daddy. Please let me show you I can do it.” There. He can use his words. Bucky would be so proud if he were here.

“Go grab the toy then, gorgeous.” Tony slaps Peter’s ass from out of nowhere and grins when he gets a gasp in response. Peter’s already keyed up to eleven and they haven’t even got his dick out. “Then turn on your set up and grab your headphones and lube; I know you and Thor were going to play Fortnite in about an hour but I can guarantee you he’s on now and would play with you if you asked.”

Peter does as he’s been told and tries his best not to rub at his erection or relieve the pressure. He’s got a pretty good idea of what his Daddy might have in mind and if he keeps thinking about it he’s going to explode way too early and ruin the night.

“Perfect, baby. How do you normally game with Thor?” Tony watches Peter put his headphones around his neck and pull out his phone to show him his Discord account. He nods; he’s never used the app himself but a quick glance shows it’s not much different from all the other messaging apps out there. Perfect for the game they’re about to play.

“Get on the couch, put your headphones on, undress from the waist down, and log in for me, baby.” Tony orders. He grinned to himself when Peter hops to it; the boy is eager to please at the best of times and it’s only magnified by the hero worship now being combined with cock worship. Not that Tony is complaining when he gets to enjoy such a responsive and obedient sub.

Peter feels hot and prickly all over but especially wherever those dark eyes trail across his bare skin. He curls his toes into the soft carpet of his apartment’s living room floor and shifts, feeling the material of his couch under his bare ass and thighs. He bites his lip when his knees are pulled apart and his hips slip forward until he had to balance his feet on the coffee table to keep from sliding right off and onto the floor.

“Beautiful.” Tony is looking at him; at his bared cock, at his flexing thighs, at the T-shirt with the dumb Fortnite meme Thor had bought for him when he declared them ‘brothers in arms both real and virtual’. Peter’s arousal only amps up from the smothered urge to cover himself under that intense gaze.

The stare off is broken by Peter startling upright a little and letting out a small yelp when his headphones start ringing in his ear with a Discord call. He looks up at Tony with a deer in the headlights look. The answering shark-grin he gets back makes him feel distinctly like prey.

“Go ahead. Answer it.” Tony lifts and lowers one leg so he’s standing with Peter’s left thigh between his own, the TV at his back and Peter in front. He grabs the lube Peter had gotten as instructed and leisurely begins unbuttoning and rolling up the cuffs to his dress shirt without breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going to stop.”

“H-hi! Hey, yeah, hi, uhh, Thor! Hi.” Peter babbles complete nonsense as his brain goes offline. The crinkle of amusement at the corner of his Daddy’s eyes only makes him feel dumber and hotter and his tongue is heavy and thick in his mouth. “I’m, um, showing Tony a few rounds of Fortnite, if, uhhh…”

Tony’s taken his cock out and Peter’s mouth is now wet and empty and what was he saying-?

“No, no, he won’t be playing. Not really, uhh, not really…his thing.” Peter’s eyes aren’t even on the screen as he starts the game. His character would have walked right into a wall if his teammates hadn’t collected it for material. There’s so many other players nobody notices -or they assume he’s new or a troll- that all he’s doing is collecting in the same small area he fell into at the start of the map. Peter’s only tangentially aware of the goings on of the game.

Tony’s finished rolling up his sleeves and eye-fucking Peter in his place and moved on to stroking lube onto Peter’s pink vibrator from base to tip. The promise in the motion, in knowing he’s getting fucked with that very soon, makes Peter suck in a quick breath that pairs with his dick jumping on his abs.

“Oh! I’m, just, uh, was being, was under fire, you know? It’s fine!” Peter’s voice cracks when he says the word ‘fine’ and he blushes down to his throat and collarbones. In the next second his character is taken out by the enemy and he’s left spectating his teammates carrying on without him. “Oops?”

Tony looks over his shoulder at the screen, taking a moment to read the layout and figure out what the problem is. When he does he turns back to Peter with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head in question. Peter blushes under the presumption implied in that look and ignores how his balls throb from his Daddy’s attention in any form.

“I’m normally better, sorry Thor. Just a little distracted tonight.” Peter hastily explains -to Thor- and then stops paying attention to his friend’s reassurances when Tony lowers his hand down to dick height and crooks his finger at Peter in the classic come hither motion. He sits up eagerly, licking his lips when his Daddy’s cock is pressed against them, the mic lifted just enough to give his dick room. Fingers wind into the curls at the back of Peter’s head and he’s so ready for this.

“Keep talking.” Tony orders, low enough not to carry, and then doesn’t slide his cock in any further. Just rests the head against Peter’s lips so he has to keep feeling and tasting while he talks. It’s frustrating and humiliating and all Peter can think about is how deep he can take him and how fast he can make him cum.

“Tony is checking out my new apartment. Yeah. Bucky convinced me that May would be fine. He’s out with Steve and Sam. Oh, yeah. I’ll ask him to join next time.” Peter’s glittering eyes skate up to his Daddy’s and he lays a wet kiss on the crown. Tony gives him a knowing grin, smearing pre-cum across Peter’s chin deliberately and then pushing him back into a recline.

“Leave it.” Tony strokes himself as he orders it. Peter keeps both hands on the controller and squirms his legs further apart, hard and dripping. The next round starts and Peter plays it without any physical interruption from Tony. He can still feel the sticky streak on his chin every time he sees his Daddy thumbing the tip of himself. It’s distracting but this time he manages to get a weapon and survive half his teammates before being taken out.

He’s expecting it when Tony crooks his finger for him, already halfway sitting up and mic positioned upwards. His back arches into the grip at his hair and his eyes go half lidded. He forgets himself and lets out a soft kitten sigh loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“I’m, um, dust? There’s dust. In the air? Allergies? Clearing my throat because of dust allergies!” Peter trips over his words. Then Tony pushes forward and fills his mouth with his cock and Peter has to listen, in stereo, to Thor assuring him that he ‘needn’t play if he’s feeling so unwell, little spider’ while his mouth is too full to counter-argue. The satisfaction of finally getting what he wanted mixes with the titillating realization that he’s sucking cock with Thor listening in and it’s a good thing his Daddy is already gagging him or he might have let out the needy moan growing in his chest.

Then Tony pulls him off and he’s leaning back against the couch cushions and the game’s started again and-

He’s dead already.

His Daddy ‘tsk’s at him and doesn’t even lower his hand to signal Peter closer. Peter feels his chest go cold and squeeze from disappointment but he gets the game now. He’s being rewarded for how long he survives. The longer he lives each round, the better his reward will be.

So, he’ll need to up his game if he wants to get that dick.

He tries to ignore him when the next round starts and Tony must sense that he’s cottoned on because he’s back up in Peter’s space this time instead of hanging back. He reaches down and wraps a hand around Peter’s dick, giving it a stroke from base to crown and back again to squeeze in a tight circle.

Peter makes it more than halfway through the round but this time Tony doesn’t stand up and present his cock for him. Now, instead, he’s turned the vibrator on and is trailing it up and down the shaft of Peter’s dick, the lube from earlier gliding the way.

“Oh, my god, I-I-I-” Peter drops the controller and looks up at the ceiling. It’s too much. It’s so good. He doesn’t want to cum and he probably can’t with how tightly his Daddy is collaring the base of his cock with his fist but the waves of pleasure still feel like they’re building to a crescendo inside of him. It just never ends.

“Pay attention.” The vibrations stop and Peter actually feels a quick prickle of tears. They’re gone before he can even get his hazy gaze back on his Daddy. He licks his lips and nods and wonders if it’s a good or a bad thing that the answering smile he gets makes his neck warm and chest hot. “Good boy.”

This repeats for enough rounds that Peter is both desensitized to the vibrations and can carry on a conversation with only minimal stuttering and gasping and keyed up to the point the skin of his inner thighs won’t stop twitching for minutes after Tony’s turned the toy off. Peter curls his toes and waits for (dreads) the next round to start, bottom lip red and swollen from how badly abused it’s been by his teeth to keep his noises in check.

It comes as a shock when Tony changes their routine by sliding a finger inside of Peter. It startles him enough that he cries out and the mic definitely picks that up from the immediate heckling and ribbing that starts up. None of them have guessed the real reason for his noises, but some of them have gotten close and Peter’s cock throbs.

“S-sorry, Thor! It’s, it’s, it’s…a spider!” Peter closes his eyes and wishes his brain didn’t float off into the clouds the second Tony Stark’s dick was involved. He’s so turned on he doesn’t remember anything beyond this bubble they’ve created together. Each time he has to pull his attention onto the screen and control his character comes a little bit slower, takes a little more effort as a little bit more of him stays with Tony.

Then the toy is slipped inside in place of the fingers that had steadily opened him up and Peter bolts upright, dick jumping in a valiant effort to cum around his Daddy’s grip. He’s shocked speechless from the intensity of the sensations inside of him and can only squirm, rocking his hips from side to side, balls drawn up tight and sweat plastering his shirt to his body. When the round is finally, finally over Peter squeaks out a quick breath of relief and reaches for his phone.

“B-bathroom break, gonna mute!” Peter hit the button on the side to mute before he could hear if Thor had responded. He spread his legs and thrust his hips, lifting a hand to place on his Daddy’s wrist. “Daddy, Daddy, green- but I’m gonna cum if you keep-”

“Oh, the vibrator inside is too much? We’ll give you a break then, Baby.” Peter suddenly isn’t sure if this was the better alternative because his Daddy is slipping the pink toy out of him and standing up with it and walking to put it away without another word. He gets a parting smirk instead. He had been close to cumming but the promise in that single, wickedly curled smile, had him simultaneously hotter than ever and bearing down on nothing in too eager sensitivity.

When Tony comes back he’s not holding anything in his hands but he is fisting his cock one handed while the other rests in his pocket. Peter’s mouth waters. Then his eyes widen when, instead of stepping up and using Peter for a blowjob like he’s been teasing about doing all night, he reaches into his pockets and produces a small black rubber cap that had two silver bullets attached to the sides and a remote.

“Once your break is over I’m going to put this,” The black cap is waved a little to draw attention. “On that pretty little cock of yours. Then, I’m going to sit you on my cock and you’re going to tell Thor you’re back and ready for another round while you warm my cock. The bullets vibrate at different settings but if you need me to hard stop because you’re about to cum or otherwise need to stop without using your safeword, tap my knee twice. Color?”

“Green, Daddy.” Peter’s voice is breathless and shaky and eager all in two simple words. Tony could listen to him for the rest of the night like that. If only he didn’t have plans to keep breaking his babyboy down bit by bit- next time, maybe. Bucky could join in; Tony has been dying to see the man’s mouth wrapped around Peter’s cock from up close ever since that performance for him on the gala balcony.

Definitely next time.

“Unplug your headphones from your phone but keep them on. Keep the mic down and lay out on the table for me, sweetheart.” Tony watches Peter move for him. His shirt is stained from the amount his erection has dripped onto it during their extended play. His pale skin is flushed and glistening, overheated and oversensitive. He’s beautiful.

“I’m going to fuck your throat, sweetheart.” Tony kneels by Peter’s head where it hangs over the coffee table he’s had his feet propped on. Peter’s cock is so hard it’s pointing towards his belly button. Tony’s words only make it twitch and leak worse. “You’re not going to touch yourself and you’re not going to cum. Think you can learn to be Daddy’s good little cocksucker?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me.” Peter’s wanted to learn how to deepthroat ever since he saw Tony do it. They’ve worked at it and talked about technique and expectations (turns out a lot can go wrong if you try just shoving a dick down your throat without prep) but this is the first time they’ll put one of the positions into practice.

“So good for me, baby.” Tony praises. He grips himself and aims for Peter’s waiting mouth, sliding in past Peter’s usual gag reflex easily from the way this opens his throat up. He pulls back and gives the younger man a moment to breathe, to get used to what just happened, and then he does it again. He doesn’t go slow but he does go steady, smooth dips in and out of Peter’s throat, training him to relax and take it one inch at a time.

“Just look at you. Fuck, I’ll never get over how well you take it.” Tony pauses, fully buried down to the root. He can see the bulge his dick is making from the outside of Peter’s body. He traces his fingertips up the shivery skin, from collarbone to stretched out lips, enjoying the feeling of himself under his palm when he wraps his hand around Peter’s neck. He squeezes enough to feel the constriction on his cock as he pulls back.

“Green, sweetheart?” Tony asks casually. His hand is still on Peter’s neck when he nods. He strokes the tender skin lovingly, caressing gently at the red forming where his fingers indented. Then he bears down and fucks his hips forward, burying himself deep inside Peter’s throat and fucking into his own hand at the same time.

“Such a good slut for Daddy. You’ve learned how to suck cock so fast. I’m so proud of you for being able to take all of me like this.” Tony lays on the praise as heavily as he’s laying into Peter’s mouth. If only he had the stamina and cocaine of his youth; he’d love to cum down his throat and fuck him ten minutes later, too.

“Break time’s over, baby.” Tony teases as he eases back. Peter’s a wreck; his face is red and his chest is hitching like he’s been crying or running a marathon. His eyes are hazy and far away as he sits up and follows Tony’s directions back onto the couch in a fog.

Tony kneels and preps the little vibrator cap, kissing Peter’s bare knee and then upwards all the way to his dick. He slips the rubber over the sensitive tip, grinning at the way his babyboy’s cock jumps from the sensation. Tony pushes the remote into Peter’s hands. “Hold this, baby.”

Tony gets up off his knees and onto the couch beside Peter. He fists his cock for a second but doesn’t otherwise undress before patting his lap with a grin and a crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Peter moves over, letting rough hands grip under his thighs and lift him up and over the crown of his Daddy’s cock. He’s still wet and fluttering from the leftover stimulation of his vibrator and it’s all he can do not to squirm down and try and blindly catch it on his rim himself.

Then Peter’s being lowered down his Daddy’s bare dick and it’s so much better, so hot and solid but flexible and rubbing his sensitized walls so good. He tips his head back onto a firm shoulder and bites his knuckle to keep in his moans. He settles in Tony’s lap, the older man’s cock buried to the hilt, his pants scratching at Peter’s bare and sensitized thighs.

“Turn it on. I wanna know what you think of it.” Tony orders directly into Peter’s ear. Peter’s finger hits the button before he’s finished registering and then he loses the ability to think.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Babyboy. Just look at you.” Tony slid his hand around Peter’s waist, touching lightly to the younger man’s stomach. Even through the shirt he can feel the deep, full body contractions that ripple up Peter’s abdominals with each gentle pulse from the bullets. Peter’s finger is still caught between his teeth but each surge from the toy drags out a broken gasp or stuttered, choked off keen. It coincides deliciously with the way Peter’s inner muscles are grasping onto Tony’s cock in time with the toy. Tony pets at Peter’s quivering belly for a moment just to enjoy the feeling.

“Now, listen up, Gorgeous. You’re not going to move during this round. Nothing but your fingers on the controller is allowed to move, babyboy. You can keep clenching and pulsing just like that for Daddy but you’re not going to squirm or whimper or beg. They’re listening to you, Baby, so you have to be quiet and you have to be good.” Tony picks up the phone and the remote and flicks the mic down on Peter’s headset. He places the controller back in Peter’s grip.

“Daddy, I- I can’t, this, this-” Peter’s shaking and he can’t stop it. His entire body is lit up from the inside out and he wants to be good but his Daddy wants so much from him. He’s finally, finally gotten Tony’s cock inside of him but now he can’t move?

“Color?” Tony turns the bullets’ off. Peter feels the tears he’s been fighting the entire night spill over. He wants to be good and he will. For his Daddy.

“G-green. Green, Daddy.” The remote is flicked back on and Peter sobs harder. He looks up at the TV and can barely see the screen through the tears and the pleasure coursing through him. The pulsing really is spaced out but Peter’s sense of time has spaghettified so much it feels endless. He’s holding perfectly still like his Daddy asked but his thumbs and fingers are flying. He has no idea what’s going on beyond his rim fluttering and grasping onto Tony like his body is determined to milk him dry without Peter’s conscious input.

Distantly, sounding far away and right in his ear, Peter hears his Daddy talking.

“He’s just very invested in his character, Thor.” Tony says it calmly, with just enough deadpan delivery to make everyone laugh and go back to the game. He thumbs the tears off one of Peter’s cheeks at the same time and nobody in the chat has any clue. They think Peter is some weird germaphobe having a breakdown over dust in his new apartment. They have no idea that Peter is one second away from throwing the controller across the room and begging to be fucked into the ground.

Peter’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t understand at first what’s going on when Thor starts congratulating him. Does he know? Did Tony tell him what they’re doing? Peter’s so far under that even Thor telling him ‘Good Game’ in that booming voice of his makes him preen and warm in the chest and stomach and dick.

But it isn’t Thor praising him for being such a good cockwarmer for Daddy. It’s Thor praising him because somehow…

Somehow they’ve won?

“Good job, guys. It only took you, oh,” Tony checks his watch with the hand not petting Peter’s stomach. Peter can tell he’s grinning even out of his mind with pleasure and on the brink of the best orgasm of his life. “Two hours for you to win a round?”

Peter stops tracking when his shirt is pushed up and his nipples (ignored until now) are pinched. He didn’t think he could feel anymore but he was wrong and it’s so good. Tony twists and pulls and flicks with one hand while the other is on Peter’s stomach, holding him close, keeping him perched in Tony’s lap crying his eyes out.

Peter follows directions and keeps holding still no matter how hard the tears start coming.

“-think we’re gonna call it a night. End it on a high note, you know?” Tony’s words register and Peter realizes he’s missed a chunk of the conversation entirely. He doesn’t care; he’ll apologize to Thor later. Right now he’s keyed into Tony’s every move -inside and out- and can’t concentrate on anything besides the bliss coursing through his synapses. The headphones are slipped off and Peter’s body tightens up.

“You did so good for me. You deserve to cum, don’t you, babyboy?” Tony slides his hand down from Peter’s stomach to his cock. He kisses him on the side of his neck and grips him, stroking and praising and kissing his wonderful boy. “Go ahead. Cum for me. Show me how much being good for Daddy gets you off.”

Peter wails when he cums; spurt after spurt rockets out of the openings in the cap, dribbles following after, balls throbbing and squeezing out more than he’s ever managed before. His entire body locks up for a solid few seconds that feel like an eternity. He feels like he’s floating and everything is warm, soft, and good.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re good. You’re so good for me.” Daddy’s words don’t really penetrate so much as permeate the fog. He’s wrapped up in it like a blanket. He hopes Daddy came, too. He’s so wet and tingly he can’t tell.

“I did, baby. I came when you did because you looked so gorgeous I couldn’t help myself. You were perfect. Can I wash you up now, sweetheart? Daddy’s made a mess of your pretty hole.” Tony can tell this session sent Peter off the charts. He’s proud that the kid trusts him so much that he could let go like this.

Now it’s Tony’s turn to take care of someone in need. He smiles looking down at the blissed out, half lidded gaze looking up at him.

He’s going to enjoy pampering Peter.

This was so much fun omg edging is my JAM and stupid ideas being done seriously is my JAM and Peter crying is my JAM and Tony fucking his throat is my JAM and-

#starker #nff #very #very nff #d/s #dom!tony #sub!peter #edging to tears #oversensitivity #semi-public sex #i guess?#mentions of Bucky because this is a tie in to my winterironspider au #but if you want to think of this as a stand alone #feel free to skip those 2-3 lines #GOTTA GO THIS WAS EDITED SUPER QUICK SORRY IT SUCKS #HOPE YOU LIKED ANON LOVE YOU AND YOUR PROMPT

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jacksonroseroth · 4 years

Text

Broken Glass Chapter 4

A/N: So I’ll be honest...I thought my cringe ass song was in this chapter and I refused to post it until my Beta could get her hands on it...Also Covid sucks dick and I’ve been struggling and had no desire or inspiration. SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN THIS LONG BUT I PROMISE IT’S WORTH IT! <3

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/domestic, mentions of blood, mentions of surgery

Words: 4,333

Moodboard made by me, none of the pictures are mine

Previous Chapter

“Eric.” Harlow sassed, bringing his attention to her.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Harley,” Eric said with a smirk. Harlow made a face at him as he looked back to Rose.

“What are you doing here, Eric?” Rose managed to get out. She took a step away from him. Already, she felt his hands on her again; Hitting, punching, slapping. Her stomach twisted into knots, remembering the pain, and her arms and legs went numb. Cradling her injured hand against her chest. Her other hand felt across the table for her glass, in case she needed to defend herself, instead, she found Colson’s hand and gripped it.

Eric glanced at Harlow and snickered. Looking at Rose once more, he said, “You should tell your girl to stay off the internet if you don’t want to be found.”

Tears sprang to Rose’s eyes as she winced. Just his eerie calm voice was as bad as being slapped around as his voice was permanently accompanied by the painful and all too real flashbacks. When he saw her flinch, Colson stood, quickly, putting an arm around her.

“You should fuck off if you don’t want to lose your fucking teeth.” Colson threatened. Eric chuckled. Rook stood at the same time Colson did and switched places with Harlow. Both him and Mod could sense this could end up in a fight and Rook knew, if Colson didn’t throw the first punch, he’d sure as shit throw the second. Rook stood at the end of the table and watched while Mod kept close to Harlow, ready to pull her away.

“What, you’re with this kid now? This skinny little punk?” Eric laughed. “You downgraded real bad, babe.”

“Oh, yeah?!-” Colson pushed forward but Rose pushed back as she said, “Anyone is an upgrade from you, Eric. And it’s really none of your business if I’m with him or anyone else.”

“Oh, honey, you are so delusional.” Eric scoffed.

“Hey. Aaron?” Colson started. Eric’s cold gaze shot up to Colson and narrowed.

“It’s Eric.” He corrected.

“Whatever. She isn’t interested so back off, yeah?” Colson said. Eric merely smirked and chuckled.

“He’s right, Eric. Leave me alone. Go back to Nevada and stay there.” Rose said. Harlow relaxed and reached out to touch Rook’s arm, silently telling him to sit and it was okay. He slid into Harlow’s former seat as Rose turned away from Eric, done with the conversation. Only Eric wasn’t quite there yet.

“Jesus, Rose. Are you off your fucking meds again?” Eric shot. Harlow lunged, trying to reach across the table to throttle him, but Mod was quicker and grabbed her waist to keep her seated. Rook was still alert as well and grabbed Harlow’s arms to push her back as well. Rose froze and Colson looked between them, waiting to see what she would do. Slowly, Rose turned to him, it now her turn for the ice cold glare. Eric smirked and added, “I think you remember what happened last time…”

Harlow pushed the men off her as her focus and concern were now on Rose, who stood cold and silent, staring down her ex. When Eric chuckled again, Rose snapped. Her right hand shot out and connected, hard, with Eric’s cheek and jaw, sending him to the ground. The surrounding patrons gasped and turned to watch the exchange as Rose pushed him onto his back with her foot, then pressed it against his neck.

“Go back. To Nevada. Fucking. Stay there. And leave. Me. Alone.” Rose hissed at him. All four of them were shocked, Harlow especially, and they were stunned into silence. Colson was the first to break when he saw the droplets of blood dripping off her injured hand.

“Shit. Rose, we have to go.” Colson said, gently cupping and lifting her hand up, pulling her away from Eric. At Colson’s touch, Rose hissed and turned, startled by the sudden pain and the blood seeping through the bandage.

“You bust the stitches. Babe, you need to go to the hospital, now.” Harlow said, stepping over Eric as he lay on the ground, holding his face. Rose was in too much shock to do anything other than nod and allow both Harlow and Colson to lead her outside, Mod and Rook following.

Harlow sped toward the hospital with Mod not far behind. Rose gave Harlow the keys and let Colson help her into the back seat, climbing in after her. When they all spilled into the ER, Harlow had worked herself into a frenzy and wasn’t allowed to be back with Rose to wait for the doctor. Mod and Rook attempted to calm her down, and sober her up, while Colson stayed with Rose in the room.

While she got hooked up to monitors and IVs, a nurse came in with an oxygen mask and a tank while her hand was unbandaged, cleaned up, and Harlow’s stitchery removed.

“Here, hun. Take a few deep breaths.” The nurse said, fitting the mask over her face. Rose laid back and did as she was told. After three deep breaths, the nurse removed the mask and left as the doctor started inspecting her hand.

“So, Miss...Jesper. How did this happen?” The doctor asked, pulling bits of glass out that Rose missed the first time. Rose smirked.

“Tonight or how I fucked it up in the first place?” Rose asked. The doctor gave her a look and a small smirk before he said, “Both.”

“I put my hand through a window yesterday,” Rose explained. “And tonight I punched out my ex.”

“Ah. I see.” The doctor said, trying not to chuckle. “Has this happened before?”

“My ex? Yeah.” She said with a half shrug. “My hand through a window? No. Before it was my knee.”

“Have you considered anger management?” The doctor asked with a smirk. Rose chuckled and glanced at him. Shifting in the bed, she said, “Thought about it.”

“I would suggest thinking about it a little more. The stitches were done well, but this type of wound can get infected fairly easily.” the doctor said. Rose nodded and said, “I’ve had good luck so far. Though I haven’t had to stitch myself up in a few years.”

The doctor continued on but Rose tuned him out, having heard it all before. She glanced at Colson and gave him a soft smile. He returned it and scooted his chair a little closer. Leaning on the railing of the bed, he asked softly, “You okay? Need to hold my hand?”

Rose smirked and Colson chuckled. “If it will make you feel better.” She sassed him, holding out her hand to him. Colson snickered and put his hand through the rail and took her hand, sitting back and pulling out his phone while he waited. Rose chuckled softly and turned to watch the doctor finish cleaning out the wounds.

“Alright, this might hurt a little. If it’s too much, let me know and I’ll have the nurse come back with the laughing gas, okay?” The doctor said. Rose nodded and watched as he threaded the needle but turned away when he started stitching. Her grip on Colson’s hand tightened a little, but it was enough to make him turn away from his phone, leaning toward her.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Rose asked. “It’s just a hell of a lot better when I can chug a bottle.”

Colson chuckled and said, “Isn’t everything?”

With a chuckle, Rose nodded and closed her eyes, wincing every now and then from the pain. A small smirk formed on Colson’s face as he shoved his phone into his pocket and rested his chin on the rail, giving her arm a soft squeeze with his other hand. Rose blinked open her eyes and smiled at him as the gas finally sent her to Loopyville. Seeing him resting his chin on the railing, it made it easier for Rose to pull her hand from his then reach up and boop his nose lightly, making her give a giddy giggle. Colson snickered and shook his head as Rose took his hand again.

“You are something else, girl.” Colson chuckled. Rose shrugged and said, “I’m like a box of chocolates, baby. Never know what you’re gonna get.”

“Okay, Forest.” Colson teased, sending them both into a giggle fit.

“Listen. I can be cute and fun when I’m not high...Being high just makes me more cuddly and affectionate and goofy and shit.” Rose said. “It is not my fault if you choose to be present during a taste test, okay?”

Colson snorted and stifled a loud laugh, pressing his face into his arm. Rose smirked and shifted, glancing back over at her hand. The doctor had finished stitching her up and wrapped her hand. As he cleaned up the bloody bandages, the doctor said, “Alright, this needs to be changed twice a day, in the morning when you wake up and at night before bed. Twice daily for about a week, then once a day for another two. After the first two weeks, I’ll want to see you again to make sure it’s healing properly. In the meantime, keep an eye on it, try not to get the bandages too wet, though you can take them off to shower. If anything changes or gets worse give us a call and we’ll bring you back.”

“Sounds good. Am I good to go?” Rose asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and pulling her hand from Colson’s.

“I'm also going to write you a prescription for some antibiotics. Just in case, so we can stop any infection before it starts.” The doctor said, quickly scribbling on a pad before entering the request in the computer. Rose took the piece of paper he handed her and stood, immediately stumbling and almost met the floor. Colson was quick and grabbed her by her waist, helping her stand and keeping her close. As the dizziness registered and showed no signs of leaving, Rose clung to him with a soft groan, pressing half her face into his chest.

“I was going to say take it easy because the gas can disorient you for a while, but I think you’ve figured it out.” The doctor said with a chuckle. He looked at Colson and asked, “You can get her home safely?”

Colson nodded and said, “Yes, sir. Don’t worry, she’s not driving tonight.”

The doctor chuckled and smiled. “Good. You two have a good rest of the night.”

Colson walked Rose out to the waiting room to meet up with Harlow, Mod, and Rook. They had gotten Harlow calmed down and she now sipped on a cup of hospital coffee, sitting between the men with her head on Rook’s shoulder. She perked up when she saw Colson walk out and waved them over. Colson steered Rose over to them and Harlow stood.

“What’d the doctor say?” Harlow asked, gingerly taking Rose’s hand to inspect it.

“Said your stitching was good,” Rose mumbled, with a light series of giggles. Harlow raised an eyebrow, noticing the slurred tone, and looked to Colson.

“Laughing gas.” Colson clarified, seeing the question on Harlow’s face. She then nodded and asked, this time directed to Colson, “So, what did he say?”

“Change the bandages twice a day for a week, once a day for two weeks after, if it doesn’t heal all the way,” Colson said. He took the paper from Rose and handed it to Harlow. “He prescribed her antibiotics in case of infection.”

“Alright. Jesus, girl, you’re a mess.” Harlow teased, taking Rose from Colson’s side. The gas had hit Rose hard and now she could hardly keep her eyes open. With Rose’s head resting on her shoulder, Harlow put an arm around her as they headed to the pharmacy for her pills. Afterward, as they walked through the parking lot, Harlow dug the keys out of her pocket and unlocked the truck.

“Come on, babe. Up you go.” Harlow said softly to Rose, as she and Colson helped her into the passenger seat. Once she was in, Colson buckled her while Harlow thanked him, then turned to Mod and Rook. She smiled at them before she hugged Mod. “Thanks for inviting us out. We had fun.”

“No problem,” Mod said, giving her a secret smile, one Harlow returned. “We did too. I’m glad I got to see you perform...Kind of.”

Harlow chuckled and said, “Whenever I get to be in front of a crowd and sing, I always perform.”

Mod chuckled and they planned out future sessions before Harlow moved on to Rook to say goodbye, privately, and Mod left to get his car. During her goodbyes, Colson stayed by the door with Rose.

“How are you feeling?” Colson asked with a soft chuckle. Rose looked up at him and a goofy smile crossed her face, making Colson snicker.

“I’m fucking tired,” Rose muttered. Colson smirked and pushed her hair out of her face, gently curling it around her ear.

“You’ll be home before you know it.” Colson assured. “Text me in the morning so I know you didn’t die, okay? Will you remember?”

Rose rolled her eyes and smirked, pushing his face away. Colson snickered, moving her hand and leaning a little closer again as she gave a soft chuckle and said, “Yes, I’ll remember. I’m not gonna die, you psycho.”

Colson licked his lips lightly and smirked, giving a shrug. “Okay, maybe I want to talk to you tomorrow...So, text me, yeah?” He said a little softer. Rose smiled at him, reaching up to give his collar a soft tug.

“I’ll text you,” Rose said back, her eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. Behind him, Harlow cleared her throat, suddenly and loud, making Colson take a step back and turn to her. Though Harlow wasn’t eavesdropping as both her and Rook rounded the car; Harlow wiping the corners of her mouth and Rook stood behind her, smirking as he adjusted himself. Colson smirked and said a soft, ‘Good night’ to Rose before closing the door.

“Thank you, Colson, for your help tonight. I’m, uh, sorry all this shit happened.” Harlow said as she hugged him goodbye.

“Nah, it’s all good. Shit happens. I’m just glad she’s okay and that bitch didn’t try anything.” Colson said. Harlow shook her head.

“No, he wouldn’t have. He talks big but he wouldn’t do anything in public.” Harlow said. Not wanting Colson to pry any further, she added, “I need to get her in bed. Um, I’ll see you next week at the studio.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you. Drive safe!” Colson called as he and Rook stepped back from the car, heading to Mod’s as he pulled up. Both men climbed into the car and Mod waited until Harlow had backed out and pulled away before taking off as well.

“So...How’d you make out...Rook?” Mod asked with a smirk, looking at the drummer in the rearview mirror. Colson chuckled and glanced back at his friend. Rook smirked and shrugged.

“What? Harlow’s hot. Can you blame me? You brought her out for me, didn’t you?” Rook asked, with a smirk. Both Mod and Colson ragged on him while Mod pulled out onto the street and headed to Colson’s.

Once Harlow was on the road, she glanced at a drugged-up Rose and said, “Hey. Still with me?”

“I’m here. I’m fine. I just want to sleep.” Rose grumbled. Harlow chuckled and said, “Just making sure.”

The rest of the car ride was quiet. In Rose’s inebriated state, getting her inside and in bed by herself was a struggle for Harlow. But she managed and once Rose was tucked in bed, Harlow was also quick to crash, falling into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Thankfully, Rose slept through the rest of the night, only waking when the sun on her face was too hot for her. Groaning, Rose pulled herself out of bed and over to the patio doors, angrily pulling the curtains shut. Through the grogginess and half-open eyes, Rose shuffled back to her bed, flopping down on it with a sigh. She laid there for a moment then blinked her eyes open before rolling over to swipe her phone from the nightstand.

She was grateful to see Harlow had plugged it in before crashing and pleasantly surprised to see a text from Colson. It brought a half-smile to life on her face before she did her usual morning social media check-in before she opened her messages, responding to a few before she opened Colson’s.

Survive the night? ;) It read. Rose chuckled and checked the time stamp, seeing it read 9:40, before checking her own clock. It was only 11:30, so it wasn’t too late for her to feel bad about missing it.

What happened to ‘text me in the morning’? Couldn’t wait, could you? :P Rose replied. She set her phone aside then forced herself out of bed again, going to her bathroom to wash off her makeup from last night. When she came back to her phone, it lit up with Colson’s response. She smiled, lightly, as she opened it.

Too obvious? Ha. I wanted to check on you. How’s the hand?

Numb and throbbing. Rose chewed her lip before sending an additional text. So, everything after the punch is kind of fuzzy...I didn’t do anything when I was high off the laughing gas, did I?

You don’t remember? That’s fucking gold! Color bloomed on Rose’s cheeks.

Oh, fuck. What did I do? What did I say?! Rose groaned and dropped her phone on the bed, covering her face as she turned and fell back onto the mattress. She laid there until her phone vibrated next to her.

It’s nothing bad, babe. Just fucking funny.

Are you gonna tell me or let me lay here in shame?

There was a weird Forrest Gump reference and you...You fucking booped my nose.

“Oh, God!” Rose cried, covering her face again. She let out a groan before she responded.

Wow. Cool. Um, excuse me while I go light myself on fucking fire?! She sighed softly before she sent, I’m so sorry. I’m weird when I’m high, but laughing gas or anesthesia is out of my hands.

Nah, nah. You’re good. It definitely lightened the mood...And now I need to see you high XD

Yeah, that’s more of a fifth hangout kind of thing. You need to handle me sober first.

Baby. I handled you during a panic attack and laughing gas. I think I’m good.

Jesus Christ. I forgot about the panic attack. Colson, I am so sorry you had to see all that shit. Rose groaned and shoved her face in her pillow. Laying there for a few moments, Rose turned back over when her phone buzzed again.

Rose, chill. I’ve seen worse. You were tame compared to the wild shit I’ve seen. A small smile spread across her lips as she read Colson’s second text. You don’t have anything to apologize for. You didn’t know it would happen. Don’t trip, boo.

Rose let out a slow, calm sigh as she tried to convince her anxiety that everything was okay. Before she could respond, Colson sent his last text.

Hey, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight! Rose was honestly relieved to stop texting him, at least for the moment, before she said something stupid. It was also perfect timing as Harlow knocked once on the door before opening it. Walking in with two bags in her hands, and a drink in one, Harlow plopped down on Rose’s bed as her best friend watched her.

“Can I help you?” Rose asked with a light chuckle.

“What? I heard you rumbling around in here. I knew you were up.” Harlow said with a smirk. She handed Rose a bag once she locked her phone, set it aside, and shifted into a more comfortable spot.

“What is it?” Rose asked, taking the bag.

“Breakfast. Shut up and eat. You need it.” Harlow said, taking a bagel with cream cheese out from her own bag, tearing the paper off, and ripping into it. Rose chuckled and dug into the food, her stomach suddenly coming to life and growling.

“So, fill me in?” Rose asked in between mouthfuls. Harlow raised an eyebrow. “I remember almost fucking nothing after punching Eric.”

Harlow shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I drove like a bat outta hell to the hospital. That’s about all I know.”

“You weren’t with me when I got my hand stitched up?” Rose asked. When Harlow shook her head, Rose said, “I honestly don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing…”

“Why? Did you do something with Colson? Did you say something particularly...Saucey?” Harlow asked with a half-smirk, lifting her drink to sip it. Rose let out a soft laugh before she said, “Well, according to Colson, I said my box of chocolates line and booped him on the nose-Harlow!”

Harlow snorted then spit out her sip, spraying Rose with iced coffee. She then proceeded to roll on the bed, choking and laughing. Rose grabbed the napkins from her bag and wiped the coffee off as she rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha. Yuk it up, bitch. I’m fucking mortified.” Rose said. With a final and loud cough, as she wiped her eyes, Harlow sat up, still snickering.

“Oh, God...Rosie...Tell me you didn’t? Oh, that’s so fucking funny! Damn, I wish I was in there for that.” Harlow laughed.

“Yeah. Me too. Then I probably wouldn’t have done it.” Rose said, balling up the napkins and tossing them in her trash. She sat back as she finished off the rest of her bagel. Harlow’s tittering soon quieted and tried again to take a drink.

“You talked to him already today?” Harlow asked. Rose nodded and said, “The one fucking thing I remember...Did he ride home with us?”

Harlow shook her head, licking cream cheese off her thumb, and said, “No. But he was talking to you at the car before we left. And he rode with us to the hospital.”

Rose nodded and said, “That must have been it. I remember he said he wanted me to text him this morning. I text him and said I didn’t really remember much...And that’s what he told me.”

“I think you may have outdone yourself, Rose. And you did some weird shit in Nevada.” Harlow said, ripping into her second bagel.

“Under the influence of weed, alcohol, and/or your psycho ass. Not laughing gas.” Rose said, shooting her a look. Harlow smirked and shrugged.

“I mean, he text you back. Was he weirded out by it?” Harlow asked.

“No,” Rose said with a soft sigh, sitting back against her headboard. “He said he’s seen worse, but that doesn’t stop me from being embarrassed.”

“So be embarrassed, babe. If you don’t have to see him until next week, I’m sure it’ll fade over the week.” Harlow said. With a smile forming on her face, she added, “Besides, you need to focus. In about 2 hours, Jackson Rose Studios will be open and you will officially and finally have your own studio.”

Rose smiled and gave a soft sigh. “Yeah. But I’m not calling it Jackson Rose Studios. I’ve got to have something catchier.”

“Well, like what? Jackson Rose is you.” Harlow said.

“I know. And that was fine when I was freelancing. But this is a real, honest to God studio. It has to attract people.” Rose said.

“What did you want to go for?” Harlow asked as she cleaned up their breakfast trash. Rose shrugged.

“I don’t know? First thing I thought of was Bloom Studios. I want to keep the floral thing.” She said.

“I like that! What not go with that?” Harlow offered.

“It was the first thing I thought of. I want to weigh all options before I choose.” Rose said, grabbing a notebook from her nightstand and writing down a few possible names, then crossing them out.

“You said you wanted the sign up by next Friday,” Harlow said. Rose’s head shot up and she glared at her briefly.

“I’m aware, thank you. That’s why I’m freaking out now. I need the name for you to come up with a design before we bring it to a sign shop. All within a week?” Rose sighed, pushing the notebook away.

“Dude, relax. I can come up with a few designs in an hour and a half. You think about the name and get dressed. We need to go shopping after we get the keys and I need new pencils and paints. I wanna hit the Michaels in Beachwood before we get the keys. So, let’s move it!” Harlow cried, slipping off Rose’s bed and skipping out the door. Rose shook her head and sighed before scooting off the bed and peeling off last night’s clothes as she went to her closet. It was going to be a long day, full of walking and, no doubt, moving crap into the studio. She tugged on a flowy top and wiggled into a pair of leggings. After stuffing her curls into a bun, she slipped on her sandals and grabbed her phone and keys, snagging her sunglasses as she left.

“Whose car are we taking?” Rose called from the kitchen, slipping both her phone and wallet into the side pockets of her leggings and filled one of her cups with water.

“We’re going to storage. So, unless you want me to keep driving your car…” Harlow called back as she came down the hall.

“I can still drive,” Rose said with a roll of her eyes. Harlow shrugged and went to the closet to grab her shoes.

“Alright, then let’s go,” Harlow said with a big smile.

Hope you guys liked it. If you want to be added to my taglist for this and/or future MGK/Colson stories, let me know! If you have any comments, feel free!

@badwolf-in-the-impala @findingmyths @kellsfanficalltogether @mgkobsessed @sparxx27 @youbelongeverywhere @delibervtion @cicipenguin91 @crazyxreader @mayaslifeinabox @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused

#MGK #Machine Gun Kelly #Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fic #Machine Gun Kelly Fic #Colson Baker #Colson Baker Fic #Colson Baker Fanfic #MGK Fic #MGK Fan Fic #EST #ESTXX

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years

Text

Love and Leather /part forty seven/

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: its a cute little chapter, I think! Feed back is always appreciated. (Moodboard credit: @itsclaranotcarla)

Warnings: lol smut, language, some drinking

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @baiabouk @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc@zoenicoles @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist@emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @kellysimagines, @marvelismylifffe, @love-struck-aries, @minxtruck, @idumpyourgrass, @lavendersoundbarrier, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @unknownoblivion

July 13th, 1989.

I woke up in a jolt, feeling hands and lips roam around my body. I shoved the blankets off of me seeing a ball of black fluff smiling back at me, “Good morning princess.” Nikki said, pulling down my underwear as he kissed across my hips.

“Good morning to you too...” I moaned feeling him wrap his lips against my clit as his tongue swirled around it, “Happy birthday, baby.” He mumbled, before coming up to kiss me. He quickly maneuvered back down to where he was prior, my hand entangling in his hair as he continued. I squirmed underneath him, causing Nikki to snake his arms around my waist and lower back, keeping me pinned down to the bed.

He stopped his movements, kissing the inside of my thighs as he propped himself up. He placed one hand aside my head as he guided his cock slowly inside of me with the other, moans erupting from the both of us.

He peppered kisses along my chest as his thrusts were slow into me, his teeth gently nipping at the skin.

I whimpered, needing more from him as I placed my hands on his lower back, nails gently digging into his skin. He took the hint as he started going faster, giving deep hard movements inside of me.

“Oh fuck, just like that.” I cried out for him, hands gripping his shoulders now, “Just like what?” He teased, slowing down again but still giving it to me deep and hard.

“Nikki!” I moaned, hearing him chuckle as he continued. His hand kept a strong grip around my thigh as he wrapped it around his waist, giving more access for him to fuck me deeper

He gently grabbed my hands, holding them above my head as he slowed down his thrusts.

“Tell me who you belong too.” Nikki groaned, lowering his face down closer to mine, causing me to dig my nails into the side of his hands

“Yo...You, I belong to you.” I moaned, making Nikki chuckle as I tried angling my hips upwards to meet his, “And whose my favorite girl?” Nikki asked, letting go of my hands as he teasingly started to pick up his pace again.

“I am.” I cried out, grabbing ahold of his forearms as he roughly slammed into me. His hands squeezed my hips, more than likely I would have bruises on them later today.

“Thats right baby, you are.” Nikki moaned, as I felt myself tighten around his cock over and over as I felt my release.

Nikki reached for my legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he gave me every inch of himself. He loved fucking me like this, everything was in perfect view. His cock sliding with ease in and out of my pussy, being able to grab my tits, and just like now, wrapping his hand around my throat as he squeezed hard.

I put my hand on top of his, as a broken up moan escaped my lips but it was silenced by a heated kiss. His grip subsided as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, hand sprawled over his back. His moans were getting more prominent in my ear, which was strange as he was never one to climax this early, Nikki quickly continued before pulling out, his hot release drenching my abdomen.

“Time out, that’s it?” I looked at him rather confused and out of breath, he laughed. I watched as he leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing a shirt from the floor and wiping it off of me. He got out of bed and tossed it in the hamper, “I gotta go.” He laughed again as I stared at him.

“Uh, I’m sorry did I wake up and it’s five years ago and now I’m getting the Nikki that would fuck me and then leave?” I sat up in bed, wrapping the sheets around me as I watched him pull up his pants, going commando as he adjusted himself under the tight jeans.

“For right now, yes. I have stuff to do.” He said, pulling on a shirt and slipping on his boots, “Where is my breakfast in bed?” He grunted, walking over to me and giving me a quick peck on the lips.

“Downstairs, waiting for you to make it. I’ll be back.” He tried kissing me again, but I turned my head. He groaned, resting his head against my arm.

“Doll, there will be more later, I just have some stuff to take care of.” He said, trailing kisses across my shoulder and to the side of my neck.

“Some...birthday stuff?” I asked, smiling cheekily at him, he rolled his eyes.

“Yes Princess, birthday stuff and that’s all I’m saying.” He kissed the top of my head, quickly leaving me before I could say anything else. I huffed, falling back into the bed before dozing off for a little bit longer.

*a few hours later, Nikki’s POV*

“Dude, she’s gonna fuckin trip.” Tommy laughed as I pulled the golden retriever puppy out of the back of my car. I sat her in the drivers seat as I tied a loose pink bow around her neck.

“I hope not, at least not too bad. She hasn’t noticed I’ve been putting all the little things up and out of the way so they don’t get chewed on.” I explained as he nodded, pulling the shiny silver gift wrapped cardboard box from the car.

“Now, you be a good doggy and don’t make too much noise.” I said, placing the puppy in the box, rubbing her ears before placing a few treats by her. I put the lid with pre poked holes on top. I picked up the box and carried it inside of the house as Tommy followed behind me.

“But why a dog? Wouldn’t the princess want diamonds?” Tommy questioned, playfully smacking my shoulder.

I chuckled, placing the box next to her other presents, “I got her a necklace if that counts, plus some other stuff but she said she’s never had a pet. Something about her mom not wanting to deal with scratched marble and piss stains.”

“I’m sorry, but this is a lot of presents. I don’t think a child even gets this many.” Tommy stared at all the gifts lined up for her. Some were big, some were small. Some had shiny bows on them and others had glitter speckled tissue paper.

“I wonder what that one is...” I said, picking up a box with black wrapping paper, “Oh, it’s from you, what is it?” I said looking over at tommy as he opened up a gift bag and pulled out some Louis Vuitton purse, “dude!” I smacked his chest, “don’t open them!” I chuckled as he put it back in the bag.

“It’s just a little something, Heather said I should make something instead of buying it as chicks apparently appreciate that more.” Tommy shrugged rummaging around through more of her gifts.

“What are you two doing?” I turned around when Vanity stood with empty beer bottles in her hand and was standing by the back door.

I gently pushed the box to the side and stood

In front of it, “Hey baby.” I said, full of smiles as I walked over to her and gave her a kiss, “Well hello to you too.” She spoke, breaking the kiss as she went to throw the bottles away.

“If I know anything, when you two are together it means you’re up to something.” She responded eying all her gifts.

“Oh, just trying to guess what you got, what are you doing? You’re suppose to be out there with your friends and family.” I quickly came up with a lie as she looked over at T-bone.

“Tommy, what is Nikki making you do now?” She questioned, glaring at him. I stared him down, mouthing the word no to him.

“Ah, nothing princess. We’re really just trying to figure out why the hell a twenty eight year old has more presents than any five year old combined.” Tommy played along as she smiled.

“Cause I’m spoiled, and people love me.” Vanity spoke innocently as she wrapped her arms around my neck, “That is very true.” I smirked before kissing her again.

“Okay, enough.” Tommy said, hands over his eyes as he pretended to throw up, “I thought I was done having to hear you two make out and fuck and all that.”

Vanity laughed, wiping her lip gloss off my bottom lip, “T-bone, you know you enjoyed it on those long nights of touring when you couldn’t score a girl.” Vanity teased him, “Did you get more beer? My brother and Sage want to play beer pong. I know you don’t drink, but I can drink and you can just throw the balls for me.” She batted her eyelashes at me as I groaned, “Please?” She begged, running her nails through my hair.

“Okay fine, only cause it’s your birthday.” She smiled, grabbing my hand as she lead me outside to where all her friends and family were.

“Okay, good because I don’t want to go out there by myself again. My grandma is already starting but mom told her to simmer down cause you won’t hesitate to kick her out.” She said, turning around as she walked backwards.

I rolled my eyes, “she says anything out of line I’m kicking everyone out. I don’t care if it’s your birthday, I’m not being disrespected in my own house.” I warned her once as she nodded.

“Well Nikki, it’s so nice of you to finally join the party.” Theo spoke up, standing tall to shake my hand.

“Just had to tie a few loose strings for our princess over here.” I said wrapping my arms around her as I rested my chin on her shoulder behind her, “Glad you two could make the flight here. I hope the hotel we booked is up to your standards.” I said as he nodded, before Betty came over.

“Right grandma? Isn’t it nice of Nikki to pay for your hotel room?” Vanity said, as her grandmother eyed me.

“Would have been nicer if we were able to stay here at the house, but yes. The hotel is fine.”

“I’m sure next time maybe we can accommodate you two here at the house.” Vanity spoke as I pinched her ass cheek hard, she quickly shoved my hand away.

“Well, next time maybe there will be a baby. I’m not getting any younger Vanity.” Betty spoke as my eyes widened.

“Uh....” Was all Vanity was able to muster up, “I’m gonna go set up the cups.” She said, trying to leave me but I held her waist tight so she couldn’t.

“I’m just saying sweetie, I would like grandchildren in the future. I’m sure with those bruises on your chest, you two are very active.” She spoke, taking a sip of her wine cooler.

“Grandma.” Van said her name sternly, “We’re going slow.”

“Slow? Well I’m assuming since you two are living together, marriage would be in the picture soon.” Betty retorted, making both of us look at each other. We uh, haven’t discussed that. It’s too soon for us. I mean, I would love to be married to her. I want this forever.

I cleared my throat before speaking up, “I Uh we haven’t talked about that yet. We’re still trying to figure out the relationship.”

“There’s the beer! C’mon Van! Let’s go.” Greyson came up at the Knick of time before Betty could continue.

Vanity handed the pack of beer to her brother as we followed him to the table that was already set up, “That wasn’t as bad as last time....” I said quietly, watching her crack open a beer and begin chugging it, eyes not leaving mine.

“Let’s just play.” She said, opening up cans of beer, pouring them into the red solo cups.

“Okay! So standard rules, I’ll allow Vanity to drink for the both of you however. So first one to get the ball in goes first? Fair?” Greyson spoke as he handed us a set of ping pong balls.

Sage and Greyson threw there balls first, both missing the cups. Vanity and I both made our shots first.

“Let’s bet money?” Vanity suggested as I rolled my eyes, “Fine, fifty bucks.” Sage spoke out as the three of them nodded.

“I’m not loosing, Nikki.” Vanity warned me, “Yeah, yeah okay princess.” I said, kissing the top of her head. I was quick to throw a ball, immediately making it in, “Thats cheating!” Sage yelled as I laughed, “What?! How! That was perfectly fair. Drink up.”

“You’re drinking it first.” Sage said, handing the cup to Greyson as he choked it down. Greyson missed his first throw as Sage made hers straight into the middle cup.

“Cheers, Sixx.” Vanity said, smiling as she nudged the cup with my soda as she quickly chugged it down

A short while later, we were both tied with two cups each, “I want a re-rack. One in front of the other.” Vanity ordered her brother and sister as they did what she said.

“Van, I’m feeling dizzy.” Sage said, holding her stomach as Greyson and Vanity laughed at her, “Oh, toughen up! This is nothing!” Greyson teased her, “I’m not loosing to Them!” Greyson shouted as we both laughed.

I threw my ball, making it in. Sage forced herself to drink the beer inside of it. Vanity threw hers and missed, “Van! What the fuck! You totally had that!” I shouted as she rolled her eyes, “You wouldn’t have made it either, Nik.”

Greyson threw his ball, missing it before Sage made hers, “Well, fuck.” I said, scratching the top of my head as Vanity playfully smacked my stomach, “If you don’t make it I’m not sucking your dick for a whole week.” Vanity told me, full of laughter as her cheeks were a crimson shade, a usual trait that happened whenever she drank.

“Okay, we’ll see about that, doll.” I told her before kissing her lips, tasting the booze on them. I quickly threw the ball into the cup, “No!!” Greyson yelled, running his hands threw his hair.

“Whatever, I’m never playing again.” Sage said as she tried leaving but Vanity stopped her, “Oh no, you two have to finish the rest.” She said, placing the cups in front of them as she leaned into my chest, “Vanity, I’m gonna be sick.” Sage groaned, clutching her stomach again.

“Babe, alright don’t make your sister puke by my pool.” I said as she let out a laugh, “Fine, more for me then...Cheers to the losers.” Vanity said grabbing a cup and quickly chugging it down.

“You wanna sip?” She asked, a shit eating grin on her face, I glared at her, “Okay, not a funny joke. Wow, I’m a little buzzed.” She said, putting down the cup as she gripped my shoulders

“You still love me even if I taste like alcohol?” She asked, fingers twirling the ends of my hair.

I smiled, nodding as I trailed a finger across her jaw, “Yes doll, even when you taste like alcohol.” I kissed her lips tasting the beer and whiskey she had been drinking, “I just need you a little sober for me tonight.” I whispered into her ear after breaking the kiss.

“Well your wish is my command Sixx.” She smirked, biting her lip as she toyed with the necklaces I had on.

“Can I open my presents yet? I think everyone has ate, I mean I haven’t but I’m not hungry.” She said, trying to pull on my hand.

“Well, that explains why you got buzzed so fast. But yes my royal highness-“ I bowed to her as she laughed, playfully shoving my shoulder, I smiled up at her, “Let’s go open presents.” I took her hand in mine as her family and friends followed us inside.

Vanity sat done in the gothic, throne like chair I had put in the house. It was fitting for her, “Which one first?” She asked me, but was full of smiles as she looked at all the gifts she has been spoiled with.

I slid my box over to her, putting it at her feet as she marveled at it, “Now this isn’t fancy or anything, and don’t worry it’s not the only thing I got you.”

Vanity’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she marveled over the box, “Nikki, what is it?” She asked me, giggling as she starts tearing the shiny silver paper off of it. She sat back a little bit when the box moved towards her. I gently nudged her, “Go on, babe.” I smiled, kissing the top of her head.

She bit on her bottom lip, opening up as she lets out a gasp, leaning over as she picked the puppy up, “Nikki!! You got a dog!!” She squealed with excitement as she held her close to her chest.

“Okay, that’s not a bad reaction.” Tommy whispered, nudging my side as I smiled at Vanity, “Nope, not one bit man.”

“Do you like her? I know you’ve never had a pet and when I’m on the road you won’t be in the house by yourself.” I explained, rubbing the back of my neck as she nodded.

“Well, I don’t know how to take care of a dog, or train her.” She was worrisome as she looked between me and the pup, “It’s okay, I’ll have her and you in training classes so you can learn. You’re gonna need to name her, Van.” I reassured her as she smiled, leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“I wanna name her anarchy, or Ana for short.” Vanity said, holding the dog close to her before placing her down on the floor as she starts running up to everyone.

“And that’s why I wanna marry you.” I didn’t think before I said it as she looked at me with wide eyes, “M-marry? Nikki...I...” She stuttered as she stared at me. Shit, shit.

I stared before I mumbled more curse words under my breath, “I mean like you, it’s why I like you.” I panicked as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Like me? I thought you loved me?” I saw that teasing smirk on her face, as I saw Betty staring me down.

“I..I do, I do love you.” I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. Vanity huffed, scratching the top of her head, “Let’s just...I’m gonna open more presents.” She said, turning her attention to everyone else and Anarchy as I quickly excused myself.

*Vanity’s POV*

I watched Nikki walk down the hall, I don’t know where all this marriage stuff is coming from. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want to marry Nikki. I just, I think it’s too soon for us to be talking about that. We haven’t been together that long, I just think we need a little more time before we even jump to the next level.

I shook off my thoughts as I sat back down in the throne Nikki had put in the house as everyone passed me their gifts. Mom had gotten me a lot of nice clothes and a very nice purse. Greyson and Vanity had given me a diamond necklace with earrings to match, it wasn’t that cute but I still appreciated it.

Tommy had a cheesy grin on his face as he handed me a box that was wrapped half assedly in black wrapping paper, “Heather helped me with it. I really hope you like it.” He smiled as he knelt down in front of me and watched me open it.

It was a shadow box that had the drumsticks he used when I went on that tour with them, they were autographed by him. Throughout the box, were polaroids of myself and the guys together. One was of me laying across Nikki and Tommy’s lap with a beer in my hand. I was smiling big as they were glaring at the camera, the other was me sitting behind Tommy’s drums laughing with Vince. The last picture was of the whole band and myself, I was standing in the middle as it was a group photo. I held the frame close to me as I looked at him.

“T-bone, I think I might actually cry.” I rubbed my eyes gently, as I leaned over and kissed the side of his cheek, “You’re the best, Tommy. Thank you, I’ll cherish this forever.”

He smiled at me, patting the top of my head, “Anything for Motley Crue’s Princess.”

“Excuse us, Thomas.” My grandfather had said sternly as I saw Tommy roll his eyes, “Uh, Theo is it? My name is actually Tommy or T-bone.” I held my breath as he talked back to him.

“T-bone, can you get me a beer?” I asked, trying to get him far away from my grandparents as possible, “Maybe find my boyfriend and tell him to stop hiding from me.” I suggested as he nodded, “Of course, my royal pain in the ass.” He says, bowing to me as he walks away.

I rolled my eyes before looking at my grandparents, smiling as they stood in front of me, “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” Theo said, handing me a white envelope, “It’s from us both, darling.” Grandma spoke up as I nodded and slowly took it.

My eyes widened, opening up the envelope and pulling out a check that had a lot of zeroes written down. I squealed, jumping up as I threw myself onto my grandpa, “oh my god!!!” I shouted, full of excitement as I let go before hugging my grandma.

“Holy shit!!” I exclaimed, running my hand through my hair as I stared down at it. I saw Nikki come back to the living room as he glanced over at me, “What? What is it?” He asked, slowly walking over to the three of us.

“Baby!! It’s...it’s...” I couldn’t even get the words out, “It’s her inheritance, at part of it at least. Enjoy it sweetie.” Betty spoke, smiling at me

“Nikki, look!” I said, putting the check in his hands as his eyes almost popped out of his head. I bit my lip as he looked back and forth between me and the check, “Not some oil shit, is it now?” I teased, watching him roll his eyes as he let out a sigh.

“It’s uh...that’s a lot of money.” He said as I took it back from him, “I know right!? Thank you!” I was overjoyed as I gave him a kiss before hugging my grandparents again.

“Honey, give her the other one.” My grandma spoke to Theo as he nodded, “Great, there’s more.” Nikki muttered as I glared at him, why was he being so negative all of a sudden?

Theo handed me another envelope, “It’s for the both of you actually.” He explained as I gave Nikki a look as he rolled his eyes again, I frowned as I started opening it up.

I tried keeping my excitement in again when I saw two first class plane tickets, plus a invoice for a hotel in the Bahamas, “Least I know where I have to go for a vacation.” Nikki muttered as he looked at the paper, I ignored his attitude as I turned my attention back to Theo and Betty.

“We wanted you two to have some fun, it includes a few activities and a nice spa treatment so Nikki can relax a little bit.” My grandma spoke, giving us a smile that wasn’t fake for once.

I elbowed Nikki’s side, “We are both extremely grateful for it, right babe?” I asked, forcing a smile as I glared at him. His expression softened as he slung his arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah, thank you. Really, you shouldn’t have.” I nudged Nikki’s side again, “I’m sure we will have a blast.”

After a while, everyone left as they said their goodbyes. I sat down on the couch with Anarchy in my lap after cleaning up the remaining streamers and beer bottles. I marveled at the check in front of me. I rubbed in between her ears, “We can buy you so many toys and treats.” I whispered as the puppy yawned and rested her head on my thigh.

“Sixx, I have no idea what to do with this, it’s a lot of money.” I said, looking over at him as he sat down next to me, wrapping his arm behind the couch and my head.

“Well-“ he said, taking it from my hand and examining it before putting it on the coffee table in front of us, “We could save it for a rainy day, or a kid or a wedding or whatever.” He trailed off, eyes meeting mine.

I scrunched up my eyebrows looking at him, “What’s with all this getting married and having kids talk?” I questioned, moving my legs so they were draped over his.

“I’m just thinking of the future...that’s all.” He responded, scratching the stubble on his chin as he looked away from me. I twiddled my thumbs, “So you want to have a future with me? And kids and a marriage?” I clarified as he nodded, a full smile playing across his face.

“Yes, doll! Of course I want that with you, I want to be your husband and the father of your kids one day...you want that too, right?” He asked, I saw the hesitation in his eyes as he glanced over at me.

“Well duh, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I didn’t. I want to be your wife one day, Sixx.” He smiled as he kissed my temple, “And then I want to have a family with you, a few kids not a whole lot because I am not driving a mini van.” I told him as he laughed.

“You’d be such a hot soccer mom, though.” I scoffed at his remarks, “A soccer mom? Please. I’m not gonna be a soccer mom and I’m not baking cookies for the PTA meetings.” I laughed with him as he rubbed Anarchy’s ears.

“I’ll tell you one thing, our kids aren’t gonna be spoiled rich brats like their mother.” He teased as I rolled my eyes, “And they aren’t gonna be chaotic junkies like their father.” I pointed out as he chuckled, “Chaotic junkie? That’s a new one.”

I shrugged, running my hand through his hair, “Still wouldn’t want you any other way, Sixx.” I smiled at him as I leaned my head on his shoulder, “I feel the same way, doll face.” He mumbled, kissing the top of my head.

“Vanity Blackwood-Sixx has a nice ring to it.” I mumbled, kissing his shoulder as I grinned at Nikki. He brushed his hand across my cheek as he kissed me again, “I love you, Van.”

I raised an eyebrow, “How much?” He laughed before he was quiet for a moment.

“Past the moon, the stars and the sun baby, I love you that much.”

146 notes · View notes

dimpled-gukkie · 5 years

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Click

Moodboard by @i-am-today-we-will-survive

A/n: I’ve been working on this for over a month and was debating whether I should post the first part and make it a series or to finish the whole thing first but I thought you guys deserved to at least read something I wrote. Anyways, thank you @euphoriajjkook , @i-am-today-we-will-survive , and @delboyanddier for helping me write this and giving me your feedback. Hopefully you’ll continue to do so on the next part ❤️

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader ft. Sassy Park Jimin & Kim Namjoon

Genre: College AU/ S2L

Warnings: Explicit language strewn throughout, brief mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 10.6k

Summary: Writing is something you have always loved to do. It’s what got you into the London Arts Academy Study Abroad program in the first place. Lately though you can’t help but feel like your creativity has run dry so you turn to this new foreign city to make you fall back in love with your passion. Turns out writing isn’t the only thing you’re passionate about.

An airport is the greatest place on earth to people watch. It’s a point of conjunction for all walks of life to meet, small interactions twisting lives together, entangling their timelines for short moments. Anything can happen at an airport, a place where time doesn’t seem to really exist. Though the people rushing past you with sweat trickling down their faces would probably like to argue that statement if only they had the time.

For those who don’t have connecting flights however, the airport can be a bit like a time machine. You don’t need to worry about the current time, only the time of the place you’re going. Glancing down at your phone screen you still have an hour before your plane even boards. Sighing, because an hour here feels like an eternity, you pack up your things and head over to the over-priced coffee shop located conveniently after the security checkpoint. Nothing like loosing braincells by waiting an hour to get an invasive pat down and spending a whole $7 on watered down coffee beans to recharge.

The man in front of you huffs angrily, his shoes still untied signaling he just came from security and in his haste to get away from the checkpoint he couldn’t even be bothered to do a menial task. You continue watching his behavior, there’s really nothing else to do at this point, noting the way he taps his watch in time with his shoe. You wonder if this is a passive aggressive way of telling both the person in front of him as well as the baristas to hurry up or if he just has a song in his head. Judging by his red ears its probably the former.

Noting down his characteristics in the notes on your phone, a deep voice sounds from behind you, “You a spy or something?” Turning around, you’re greeted with a boy around your own age, long dark brown hair messily strewn under a black newsboy cap. He grins at you, the corners of his mouth pulling into an odd rectangular shape, his dark almond eyes scrunching as his cheeks push them upwards.

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, half struck by his beauty and half confused by his question.

“Hey man,” The boy taps the annoyed man on his shoulder. The man whips around like a wild dog, practically snarling at someone disrupting his order but the boy seems undeterred, the mischievous glint in his eyes brightening. “Just thought you should know a spy is watching you.” Your eyes widen as he points his gaze at you a few times, silently telling the man that you’re the culprit and you put your hands out in an innocent manner. The boy glances down at you and smirks a little, amused by your expression.

“I-I- no I’m not. I was just uhh…” How do you explain you were taking notes on a guy to use for a character in your novel? As you struggle to come up with an explanation, the man’s gaze suddenly turns worried and he looks to the boy behind you once more who nods in justification to his words.

“I promise I’ll get him the money. I- I just need more time.” The man says hurriedly before dashing away, tripping on his untied laces in his hurry. Your gaze falls on the boy behind you, his body folded in half in his laughter and you can only gape at him.

“Wha- what just happened? I’m not a spy!” He pops up then, gaze suddenly serious and mouth set in a straight line.

“That’s something a spy would say.” He raises a thick eyebrow up and you roll your eyes at him.

“That’s also something that a not-spy would say.”

“Touche. But do you think we should tell someone about that dude? He seemed suspicious.” The boy asks, his hand moving up to play with his earring in thought.

“I’m sure it’s fine. I just hope he’s not on my plane.” You turn around and order, expecting that to be the end of your conversation with the strange boy but are completely surprised when he tacks his order onto your own before handing his card over.

When the cashier asks for his name he turns to you saying, “Taehyung” in what you suppose to be his way of introduction. “So spy-“

“Y/n.” You interrupt him.

“Can’t you just play along?” He whines before sighing. “Fine Y/n, why were you taking notes on him anyways? If you’re not a spy after all.”

Your cheeks bloom roses the same way they do every time you have to explain that you’re an aspiring novelist and softly you mumble, “I was taking notes for a character in my novel.” Somehow the boy, Taehyung, heard you and his mouth cracks open into that distinct boxy grin.

“You’re an author!” He asks, his excitement startling you. You were used to the disappointed tsks, the familiar scoldings of your passion not being a real job. To be met with such enthusiasm is simply shocking and caused the clusters of roses on your cheeks to bloom even further. “That’s so cool, I wish I was good at words. I’m a photographer.” His eyes twinkle slightly when he declares his profession, pride taking shape in his stance as his broad shoulders push back to reveal the toned chest beneath his striped long-sleeve. You can’t help but smile back at him, his cheerful personality infectious and his passion for his passion beautiful.

The barista calls Taehyung’s name and you follow him to retrieve your drinks, giving him thanks for buying you one and half expecting him to walk off. Except Taehyung doesn’t and he motions for you to sit down at a nearby table like he wants to continue your conversation. “So what do you like to photograph?” You ask, not one to like sitting in silence with a complete stranger. Though Taehyung is so warm, he’s beginning to feel less like a stranger and more like a friend with each smile he gives you.

“Have you ever heard of abstract impressionism?” You nod your head and he gives you a quick smile. “Well basically around post-impressionism photography was also growing quite popular and artists began using photographs to take pictures of their subjects to later recreate in a studio setting, which began the link between art and photography. So I do the opposite, you could say. I focus on emotions, colors, and movements like Monet and Degas but in photographs rather than with paint.”

“Can I see some?” You ask, not quite grasping what he’s telling you. Grinning widely, he nods, shuffling his camera out of his bag to pull up a few photos on the screen. The first photo he shows you has a cluster of monarch butterflies, their wings misshapen as they’re caught in movement. Their wings look similar to passing buildings when you drive down the freeway at a fast speed, blurs of colors and white lights, their wings caught in a rapid flutter. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your mouth, starstruck by the complex simplicity of the photograph. You never thought you’d say a blurry photo was beautiful but somehow Taehyung did it. “That’s really beautiful Taehyung.” You say softly, still entranced in the picture and following the movement of the butterflies’ wings.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, a small voice on him already so out of character that you look up. His cheeks are a dusty red, a small smile dimpling them. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something more but your phone obnoxiously buzzes and you smile sheepishly at him before checking it.

You nearly drop your phone onto the ground in your haste to stand up, your bags clanging loudly against your table and drawing the attention of nearby people. “I’m really sorry Taehyung but I have to go. My flight is boarding right now and…” Looking around frantically you check the signs of the gates, sighing in defeat when you realize yours is at the other end of the airport. “My gate is on the other end of the airport. Anyways I really have to get going. It was nice talking to you!” You yell, beginning your long sprint through the terminal. You feel bad for laughing at those people hurrying through the airport earlier. How did the hour pass by so quickly? Heavy footsteps join yours and you turn your head to the side, nearly knocking into someone as Taehyung runs next to you.

“My flight is boarding too!” He huffs and if you weren’t so stressed you’d laugh. What are the odds that both your flights are boarding at the same time? As you sprint through the airport, Taehyung staying by your side even as you weave through the crowds of people, you can’t help but fantasize you both having the same flight. It’d be nice to carry on your conversation with Taehyung, get to know more about him and his passion for art. Maybe even snag his number if you’re lucky. You can’t deny that he’s handsome, even as he pants next to you, his hair begin to stick to his forehead as sweat accumulates under his hat. But fate usually doesn’t play in your favor so you don’t put much hope to your thoughts. With your luck he’s probably on the plane next to yours and the luckiest you’ll get is to wave at him through the window. To your surprise though Taehyung pulls to a stop at your gate and you both pause to look at each other before it clicks. He’s on your flight. What’s next? His seat being next to yours?

Good things really do come to an end as you wave at Taehyung seated a few rows in front of you. You guess your timer had run out, your good luck ran dry, and you can’t help but pout in your seat, momentarily forgetting that you’re afraid of flying. It only seems to click when the stewardesses are making their final rounds to secure the cabin that the fear sets in, wrapping its sharp claws around your throat and making it hard to breathe. You tap your foot anxiously to the fast beating of your heart, clasping your hands tightly in your lap as a way to ground yourself. Your eyes water and a blur of dark hair catches your attention and you smile slightly at Taehyung, who’s risen up in his seat to glance back at you. Through your watery vision that you hastily blink away, you can make out the concerned draw of his eyebrows and his hand waving at one of the stewardesses to catch their attention. In a minute he’s standing at your row with a sheepish smile on his face, large hands wrapped around a black duffel bag.

”Excuse me sir, but would you mind switching seats with this young man? His girlfriend is pregnant and has major flight anxiety.” She gestures to you but you’re too busy trying to take deep breaths to say anything. “And you’d be trading a middle seat for a window.” Only then does the middle-aged man begin to move, grumbling to himself while he gathers his things. Taehyung immediately shuffles in and places a warm hand on your own comfortingly, only saying something once he’s successfully shoved his duffel bag into the small compartment under his seat.

“Hi,” He says softly. “thought you could use some company.” He makes no move to mention his hand now laced into your own and neither do you. You smile weakly at him in response, squeezing his hand tightly in a silent thanks. The bouncing of your leg increases as the plane roars to life and you pull your conjoined hands into your lap, using Taehyung’s arm like a makeshift seatbelt. “It’s gonna be okay.” He tells you, his thumb rubbing soothingly across your knuckles. He squeezes your hand once to get you to look at him and your body relaxes slightly at the certainty in his eyes. “Say it with me, we’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay.” You mumble, looking out the window as the plane gets taxied to the runway. Your gaze snaps back to Taehyung when he places a pair of headphones over your ears, a soothing symphony already playing. The volume is loud enough that you can barely hear the engine rumbling, can only feel the vibrations as the plane hurdles down the runway before leaping into the sky. Only when the seatbelt sign flicks off does Taehyung pull the headphones off your ears, smiling widely at you as the tenseness in your body fades away. Taking off and landing were the worst parts.

“See what did I tell you? I knew we’d be ok-“ Your hand lands over his mouth before he can complete his sentence, eyes already scanning for some sort of wood to knock on.

“Shhh! Don’t jinx it.” You exclaim, knocking on Taehyung’s wooden phone case. Taehyung’s mouth moves under your palm, his eyes creasing as he lets out a muffled laugh and you pull your hand away with a glare. “Don’t laugh.” You pout, which only makes Taehyung smile even wider.

“You’re so cute Y/n.” He coos, trapping your face between his large hands. Your mind immediately drifts to the idiot sandwich meme and you slap his hands away. Taehyung talks to you until your eyes grow heavy and you blink sleepily at him, trying your hardest to stay awake. You don’t want him to think he’s boring you to sleep but the stress of riding on a plane and your anxiety took a toll on you, your energy depleted despite the coffee you ingested earlier. “You tired?” Taehyung asks quietly, smiling softly at you. Nodding you mumble your apologies but he just shakes them off. “It’s alright love. I’ll wake you up when we land okay?” He says, leaning down to take a book out of his bag. ‘Impressionism in its truest form’ it says. You smile when he puts on his glasses on making him look infinitely softer. You blink a few more times while staring at him until your eyes refuse to reopen and you drift off to sleep.

When you awake it’s to a voice mumbling lowly in your ear and you groan shifting closer into your pillow. The voice laughs and your pillow vibrates and you sleepily open your eyes. Why is your pillow moving? You glance up to see Taehyung smiling down at you and you scramble away from him, cheeks warm from the realization that you were cuddled up to him in your sleep. “I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, eyebrows drawing closed as he smiles brightly at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute when you’re flustered.”

“Stop.” You whine, pushing on his chest. He giggles at you. “Are you always such a flirt?”

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” He asks, pressing his chin into his palm as he leans in closer to you. You open and close your mouth trying to come up with a snarky remark but his close proximity has you fumbling.

“I-I don’t- Leave me alone.” You huff, crossing your arms and turning away to look out the window. To both your relief and panic the ground gets closer and closer as the plane begins its descent. With a startled gasp, you clutch onto Taehyung wrapping your arms around his own as you shut your eyes. Taehyung places his hand on your knee to give you more access to his arm, squeezing it a few times in reassurance. You keep your eyes closed until the plane stops bouncing as it hits the runway, the engines silencing. You peel your eyes open glancing to Taehyung who smiles down at you.

“See, I told you it was gonna be okay.”

“Yeah I guess you weren’t wrong.” You say. He keeps his hand on your knee even after you release his arm from your grip.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing in London?”

“Oh! I’m doing a foreign exchange with an art university here.”

“That wouldn’t happen to be the London Arts Academy program would it?” Your eyes widen as your mind begins to process what this means.

“You’re part of it too?” You ask and Taehyung nods excitedly, his eyes sparkling.

“Guess I’ll get to see more of you huh love?”

When you step outside of the airport, the sky is overcast and painting the city in a soft white light. Taehyung stands by your side, tucking his hand into your own as you both get swallowed by the amount of tourists in the area. You’re thankful for his continuous support towards you even though you both are practically strangers.

“So what do you plan to write while you’re here?” Taehyung asks, pulling you towards the bus stop your university directed you to upon your arrival.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumble ashamedly, causing Taehyung to frown. Before you looked so happy when mentioning your passion, eyes bright like the sun, and just like that very sun your glow is now obstructed by your uncertainty and woefully dim.

“That’s alright. I mean I’m sure you’ll find some inspiration here. We’re in a brand new city after all.” Taehyung holds out his free hand, gesturing to city around you. He almost smacks a man in the face and you struggle to hold back a giggle.

“I hope so.” You say softly. You can’t help but feel a little guilty to have taken this spot of such a prestigious program only to have no ideas. Well you do have ideas you just hate them. They’re bland and boring, some done a few times. There’s nothing that makes you excited, nothing making you itch to have your fingers on the keys, to spill your plot onto a page. It’s like all your creativity has been drained from you.

“Come with me.” Taehyung says suddenly and you turned to him confused. “I have some places in mind I wanna scope out to take photos of. Maybe they’ll bring you inspiration too!” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle like the flickering light a few feet away.

“If you’re sure.” You’d hate to intrude.

“Wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t.” A bus rumbles towards you, breaks squeaking as it pulls to a stop.

“Comforting.” You say causing Taehyung to chuckle. The driver steps out and loads your bags into the vehicle, huffing at the weight of your bags.

“Women am I right? Constantly overpacking their luggage.” Taehyung says to the driver, smirking at you as you scoff and hit his arm.

“Actually it was your bag that was the heaviest.” The driver says matter-of-factly, and you fold in on yourself in laughter. Taehyung turns to you with a slight blush, tangling his hand in his long dark hair as he smiles shyly.

“Serves you right.” You grin, heading inside the large charter. Taehyung is quick on your heels, sitting in the seat in front of you. “Tired of me already?” You tease, tilting your head to the empty seat beside you.

“Actually can’t get enough of you. Just thought you could use a moment of separation before you’re stuck with me for the next two months.” Taehyung says unabashedly.

You lean forward, pressing your elbows into your knees. “That so?”

Your grin widens as Taehyung inches closer, resting his chin on the top of the seat. “Yes I’m afraid.”

“Damn I wish my girlfriend was on this trip with me.” An unfamiliar voice says from the front of the bus. You and Taehyung both turn to the voice with wide eyes, having forgotten that it’s not just you two in this program. “Hi I’m Jimin.” The boy smiles, eyes scrunching due to the plumpness of his cheeks as he gives a small wave.

“I’m Namjoon.” The boy beside Jimin says, hunching over slightly as his tall frame seems to be struggling in the bus. They both move towards you and take a seat in the row behind you. Well initially Namjoon tries to sit next you before Jimin pushes him away, mumbling something about letting lovers be. You blush at the comment but don’t say anything, not wanting to draw attention in hopes Taehyung hadn’t heard. “What do you guys do?”

“I’m a photographer. I specialize in impressionistic photography.” Like before Taehyung stands tall when he mentions his passion, something you can’t help but admire him for.

“Ahh cool! You like impressionism too?” Jimin exclaims, reaching across you to give Taehyung a high five. “I’m a painter, but I also like making little cartoon animals sometimes. Like this little guy!” Jimin shows you his phone, smiling proudly at the little yellow hooded dog waving at you from the screen. “His name is Chimmy after his daddy.”

Namjoon groans from beside him, placing a hand over his face exasperatedly. “Please never refer to yourself as daddy again.”

“Do you need a snickers bar Joonie? You’re not yourself when you’re hungry, instead you’re a HATER.” Jimin throws a snickers bar at Namjoon causing the tall boy to roll his eyes.

“I get that being dramatic comes with being an artist but could you tone it down a little? I’m tired.”

“Ahh yes, another late night at the studio?” Jimin teases before turning back to you and Taehyung who were watching the scene with wide eyes. “My boy Joonie here is a musician. Writes some sad ass lyrics, but they’re actually pretty deep. I’m still waiting for my own song though, which I deserve for putting up with him for the last 12 years as his best friend.”

“You put up with me?” Namjoon sounds offended, but the way he dramatically places his hand over his heart says differently. You giggle at their interaction and that brings their attention back to you. “What do you do again?” Namjoon asks, seemingly forgetting you never told them in the first place.

“I’m a writer.” You say softly, cheeks tinged a dusty pink. You know you should be proud to say it, especially when met with such creative minds yet you can’t help it. You’ve been faced with too much disappointment about your passion in the past.

“Cool! Maybe we could work together sometime? I need help with the lyrics for my new song.” Namjoon smiles, dimples pressing into his cheeks.

“Oh! Okay.” You say, startled by Taehyung coming to sit beside you. You realize then that the bus is beginning to fill up with other students, the volume gradually becoming greater as people begin to interact with each other and make new friends. You can’t help but feel like you made the right choice as you all dig into the bag of skittles Jimin brought along with him, joking around and trying to toss them into each other’s mouths.

When you pull up to the school, your jaw drops at the beautiful architecture, something very unlike your university at home. The building vaguely resembles a castle and you can’t help but feel like you stepped back into time as you walk inside the building, trudging your suitcase behind you. You look over at Taehyung and you can picture him as a prince, probably one of the most sought after too for his ethereal looks and kind personality. Maybe you should write something about a prince? Jimin bumps into you from behind and you let the idea die, disheartened by the squire in front of you. “Sorry uhh…Wait did we not ask for your names?” Jimin says.

“Oh I guess not. I’m Y/n, this is Taehyung.”

“I feel like a jerk.” Jimin pouts and you can’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair like you would to a sad child.

“It’s alright. You were just excited.”

“Like a puppy.” Taehyung says and you gasp.

“Like your drawing! Jimin you really are the same as chimmy.” You exclaim and he laughs, cheeks a soft pink.

“You might as well call me puppy.” Jimin jokes but much to his dismay you and Taehyung take a liking to it.

“Alright puppy.” You both say in unison before looking at each other and giggling. Jimin rolls his eyes, less than enthused by your teasing. His lips form a plush pout and his eyes round making him resemble an upset puppy. Taehyung reaches forward and pinches one of Jimin’s bread-like cheeks between his fingers which makes the other man pout further after swatting his hand away.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Jimin whines and Namjoon just places an apologetic hand on his shoulder.

“It’s the curse of being so cute Jiminie.” Jimin screams loudly in annoyance before storming off to his room which only makes the three of you giggle.

“What floor are you two on?” Namjoon asks, following in the direction Jimin went.

“Two.” You and Taehyung say in unison once again, causing you both to look at each other. What a coincidence.

“Ahh, Jimin and I are on four. Want to meet back down here in an hour to go get some food? Orientation is tomorrow so we have the whole night off.” You and Taehyung nod and Namjoon waves before leaving the two of you alone again.

“They seem cool.” Taehyung says, leading the way towards the second floor. He offers to take your backpack for you but you refuse.

“Yeah they do. I think we have a good group.” You say. Taehyung nods in agreement before turning back to you with a wide smile.

“You’re mine though. My ride or die, my plus one, my best bud.”

“Partner in crime?” You tease and Taehyung laughs.

“That too.” Taehyung pulls to a stop in the middle of the hallway and for the first time an awkward silence forms between the two of you. Taehyung fiddles with the keys in his hand, bouncing back and forth on his heels for a little bit. It almost feels like he doesn’t want you to leave. Two minutes pass of the two of you staring at one another, waiting for the other to say something before Taehyung speaks up. “Well I’ll see you in an hour?”

“Yeah.” You say softly, hoping to hide your disappointment. You’ve grown rather fond of the brunette with the boxy smile. Taking out your own key from your pocket you continue down the hallway, actually paying attention to the room numbers this time. “Did I pass it?” You mumble to yourself, jumping slightly when Taehyung asks you if you need any help. You thought he had already gone inside. “Yeah I can’t find 222.” Taehyung steps outside to help you look only to turn to you with a large grin.

“Love, I think I found it.” You hurry towards him, having to blink a few times to make sure what you’re seeing is right. Your door is the one right across from Taehyung’s. You’re starting to think these are less of a coincidence and more of fate shoving the idea of romance down your throat. But turning towards Taehyung you decide you don’t mind all that much. Maybe you should write a story about lost lovers? “As much as I love you staring at me and admiring my handsomeness, you gotta unpack at some point.” Taehyung laughs and you turn away with a blush. Scratch that idea, romance is dead anyways.

“R-right. I’ll just umm go then. See you in an hour?” Taehyung checks his watch.

“Make that 50 minutes.” He grins, waving to you as you duck into your room to hide your embarrassment.

Someone knocks at your door right on the hour and fixing your hair one last time you open it to reveal a smiling Taehyung. He’s removed the news cap in place for a beanie, his hair even more fussed than when you first saw him in line at the airport and yet he looks ungodly attractive. He’s swapped his long sleeve for a black thrasher hoodie but still wears the same black pants from before. “You changed.” He says quietly, scanning your figure. You fidget under his piercing eyes, pulling and twisting the drawstrings of your own oversized hoodie.

“Yeah, I felt gross after the flight. Plus it’s kinda cold outside.”

“You could’ve borrowed mine if you were cold.” Taehyung says matter-of-factly.

“Well I didn’t know that. Or know that you’d be wearing one. But I’ll keep it in mind for the future.” You tell him, locking your door before you both head back to the main floor to meet Jimin and Namjoon. When you arrive they’re already bickering, something about Jimin stealing Namjoon’s favorite shirt.

“Hey guys!” Jimin chirps, moving over to meet you at the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t you like my shirt.”

“First off, that’s mine. Secondly, the audacity. This kid.” Namjoon says, nodding towards Jimin.

“Fuck you Namjoon. Just because I’m small does not mean I’m a child. Besides if this was yours then why was it in my suitcase packed with my clothes?“

“Hmm I don’t know… maybe because you STOLE it.”

“How are you two the most chaotic people I know already and I’m friends with Taehyung?” You say.

“It’s how we roll baby.” Jimin says and you all collectively gag. “I hate you all. I can’t believe you got into this program.”

“Yeah same. They really lowered their standards if they let you in.” Namjoon quips, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Jimin. Jimin’s eyes are now a dark coal and you wonder if you’ve all gone too far as his eyes flicker with anger. “Ahh, calm down Jiminie. You know I love you.” Jimin smiles brightly, appeased by Namjoon’s praise. You’ll have to remember that compliments make him feel better.

“Yeah sorry puppy. We didn’t mean to make you upset.” You say and Jimin only smiles, waving his hand to dismiss your comment.

“It’s alright. I wasn’t really mad anyways. well not at you at least.”

“Do you wanna go eat now?” Taehyung asks and you all nod enthusiastically.

“What should we get?’ You ask, the four of you wandering off campus to look at local restaurants.

“I’m thinking like a british staple. I’ve been dying to try out my british accent in Britain.” Namjoon says, already heading towards a local fish and chips shop.

“If we’re getting fish and chips then you have to order. For all of us. And we get to be over there.” Jimin points to a bench ten feet away. “I don’t want to be associated with you when you offend the masses with that awful accent.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at Jimin’s remark but heads to the ordering window anyways.

“We should help him.” You say, stepping to follow Namjoon only for Jimin to stop you with a hand on your wrist.

“We will. Just after he orders.”

“You play dirty Park Jimin.” He grins at you wickedly, sending you a quick wink.

“I know.”

When Jimin assures you that Namjoon has in fact ordered you pull out a wad of cash, attempting to hand the cost of your order to him. “No need.” Namjoon smiles, his dimples presenting themselves. “On the house because the guy liked my accent. Besides we’re friends anyways, I don’t mind covering once in a while.”

“Well thanks man. I can buy coffee tomorrow for everyone before orientation.” Taehyung smiles.

“I can cover pastries or something for breakfast!” You say and Taehyung pulls you into his side.

“Looks like we can go together.”

“Eww can you keep the coupley stuff to yourselves. It’s only cute when you’re part of it.” Jimin groans, fake gagging to show his distaste.

“Oh we’re- we’re not together. We just met like today.” You say hurriedly, worried Taehyung would be offended at the misunderstanding. You’re so worried you miss the way his smile droops a little, his eyes losing their sparkle. Taehyung retracts his arm from around you and the four of you stand in awkward silence.

“Oh my bad, Sorry, you guys just have such good chemistry.” Jimin says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“No big deal. But yeah we just sort of clicked huh love?” You don’t bother to correct Taehyung for the nickname, not wanting to make anything more awkward. Or maybe it’s just because you like it. His affection, his smile, his nickname for you, just him.

“We did. You know after we cleared up that I’m not a spy.” You don’t get a chance to further elaborate on your sentence because a bell is rung at the pick-up window and you all get too focused on inhaling your dinner, tired and hungry from the long flight. Within ten minutes your plates are picked clean, and you pat your food baby affectionately. “Well guys, looks like I’m expecting.” You giggle, rubbing your food baby for extra emphasis.

“Me too! Joonie be ready to be an uncle to Chimmy.” Jimin pulls up his shirt to reveal his tone torso, one that makes you internally gasp because you weren’t expecting someone so cute to have abs, and turns to the side to show off his barely bloated stomach.

“Congratulations!” Taehyung yells, causing a few passerby to turn their heads towards you and Jimin to lower his shirt with slightly pink-tinged cheeks. “I expect an invite to the shower. And a plus one for Y/n.”

“Why do you assume I’m not invited?” You ask Taehyung, brows pulled together and bottom lip jutted.

“I change my mind. Y/n you’re invited, Taehyung you can be her plus one.” You cheer through your laughter, folding in on yourself when you look up at Taehyung’s pouting face. Serves him right.

“You hear that Tae? You’re my plus one.”

“Yeah yeah whatever.”

It’s been a week since the program has started and you and Taehyung are inseparable. The only time you can be seen without each other is when you have class and even then Taehyung drops you off and picks you up at the door. You’ve grown fond of his boisterous laugh and deep voice, entranced by the way his mind works. He flows so easily through topics, one second questioning the inner workings of the universe to the next asking why dolphins haven’t adapted gills if whales once had legs. It’s one of those rare moments on sunday morning where you’re alone and you can’t help but wish for the boxy-smiled boy to be beside you. Like he’s called by your thoughts a knock sounds at your door and you hurry out of bed to throw it open. Taehyung immediately walks inside before plopping onto your bed, watching as you make your way back to him. “Let’s go somewhere.” He says, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. You’ve learned this past week that Taehyung is very physical when it comes to affection but you don’t mind.

“Where to?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair. It really was as soft as it looked. He hums against your stomach and places his chin on it to look up at you with a grin.

“It’s a surprise!” He says excitedly.

“At least tell me how I’m supposed to dress then?” You say.

“Whatever you wear you’ll look beautiful in.”

“Not helpful.” You huff and turn back towards your closet to hide the roses in your cheeks.

“You try and give someone a compliment and they-“

“Fine. Thank you Tae.” You grumble, shoving aside your clothes to look for something. You pick out a pair of shorts and your favorite long-sleeved shirt, stepping into your bathroom to change. When you come out Taehyung has your polaroid camera in his hands, making funny faces as he snaps several pictures of himself.

“You wasting all my film?” You laugh, enjoying the slight blush on his cheeks.

“I-umm…” Taehyung fumbles over his words, the sound of your camera printing the cutting over him. When the films are fully developed you flip through them, giggling to yourself as his poses get more and more ridiculous. You pause on the last photo, his pointer finger pushing lightly into his plush bottom lip, shifting it to the right and showing his white teeth. His head is cocked to the left, long brown hair soft as it passes over his eyebrow and frames around his eyes, He looks cute. “Why do you keep staring at that one?” Taehyung asks, shifting nervously behind you. You turn back to him, a little out of it from observing his features so deeply. He’d be perfect character in a mythological universe. His beauty rivaling Aphrodite herself. “I know I look ugly in that one, stop looking!” Taehyung laughs, attempting to snatch the photo out of your hand.

“Kim Taehyung don’t you dare say you’re ugly.” You scold, turning to him with a hard gaze. “You are anything but ugly.”

“Yeah whatever.” Taehyung says, and you roll your eyes.

“You try and give someone a compliment and they-“ You tease, quoting Taehyung from earlier which only makes him yell.

“Hey! Using my words against me is not very nice.” He whines, lips pulling into a soft pout. “What are you doing?” His brows furrow as he watches you place the image in the back of your phone before sealing it in your case again, turning it over so his picture faces you through the clear case.

“There. So now everyone can see how cute you are.” You smile proudly at him and he giggles at your determination, before turning and grabbing your camera again from your desk. He points it at you and you cock your head to the side confused. Why does he want to take a picture of you?

“It’s only fair.” He smiles making you grin back at him before the camera flashes. He shakes the film aggressively in an urge to make it develop faster and you lean into his shoulder as you watch it develop, wondering what it’ll look like. You’ll never be as photogenic as Taehyung but you hope you look at least somewhat decent, somewhat attractive to the man standing beside you. “Look at that.” Taehyung says, peeling his phone out of his case to place the polaroid in the back so it’s visible like his in yours. “What did I tell you?” He asks, eyes not leaving the photo. “Beautiful.” He says softly, finger trailing along the photo.

Taehyung’s hand is in yours when you pull up to the bakery, your other hand stuffed in your pocket to keep it safe in the chill of the air. The bells rings softly above you as you follow Taehyung inside, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air. Your stomach growls lowly and you hide your face in Taehyung’s arm, his laughter ringing out through the quiet shop. A woman appears from behind the back and wipes her hands on the white apron tied around her waist. “Hi, how can I help you?” She smiles.

“We’re here for that cake decorating class.” Taehyung says, causing the woman’s eyes to widen.

“Oh right! Hold on one minute, I’ll bring the supplies out and you can settle down at one of the tables.” She rushes off and Taehyung shrugs off his cardigan, placing it on the seat next to him.

“Why cake decorating?” You ask him, taking a seat directly across from him.

“Why not?”

“This inspires you?” You mumble, looking at the woman who rushes around while whispering to herself frantically.

“There’s more ways to be inspired than just seeing something Y/n.” Taehyung says softly and you holt a little. It’s been so long since he’s last called you by your name. You hate it.

“Why Y/n?” You ask and Taehyung furrows his brows.

“I don’t know why your parents named you that.”

“No, not that. Why not love?” You ask and Taehyung blushes a little.

“Namjoon said I shouldn’t call you love anymore because you might not be comfortable with it if you have a boyfriend or something.”

“Don’t listen to Namjoon anymore.” You tell him, thankful that your conversation is cut short by the woman returning. You miss the way Taehyung smirks.

The woman goes through a quick demo of all the tools and techniques before disappearing into the back mumbling something about a wedding cake. You almost want to make her a cup of tea or something to ease her stress. She’s clearly very busy. Taehyung and you fall into an easy silence as you draw on the cakes with your colored icing. You’ve stuck to a more cool palette of blues and greens meanwhile Taehyung is making every color under the sun. Streaks of pink mix with a deep blue, intercepted by a streak of fluorescent yellow. “Taehyung what are you making?” You laugh, moving to stand up and get a better look.

“A masterpiece.” He says distractedly, not lifting up his head from the cake. He seems to be having a lot more fun with his than you are so you decide to borrow from his technique and start smearing the colors around to look like streaks of paint. Though you can’t bring yourself to stray from the color palette you’ve created in fear of making brown. By the time you’re done and add a yellow dotted circle around the top your cake looks completely different. Gone are the semi-descent flowers, in their place are swirls that rival Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Well, not really but hey you can pretend.

Taehyung finishes not long after you and turns to show you his piece excitedly. An abstract face seems so come out of the icing, its strong nose centered between two blue eyes. “That’s cool Tae.” You fight the urge to swipe a dollop of frosting from it and plop it into your mouth.

“Lemme see yours!” Turning your own cake towards him, you watch almost anxiously as he takes in your work. “Pretty.” He says affirmatively. “Lowkey wanna just take a bite out of it.” He tells you making you giggle.

“Do it.” Whipping out your camera, you catch a picture of him just as he takes a large chunk out of the cake and fold in on yourself in laughter.

“You do it too!” He says though a mouthful of cake and you shake your head.

“I don’t want to ruin it.” You whine and he rolls your eyes, coming to stand next to you with his own cake in hand.

“Then take a bite out of mine.” Blushing you take a tentative bite out of his cake, heart thumping against your chest from the fear of him smashing it in your face and also from you taking a bite of something Taehyung’s lips have touched. Why do you sound like a middle schooler with their first crush? Maybe you should write a story about puppy love if you’re getting so worked up about an inadvertent kiss. You make the mistake of looking up at Taehyung as you take a bite and almost choke at the intense look in his eyes. Their normal milk chocolate hue is now dark and you quickly turn away, wiping some of the icing on the corner of your mouth and cheek. Like in a trance Taehyung reaches a hand out and swipes the frosting with his thumb before sucking it off with his tongue. Nope, this is much too R-rated for a puppy love story especially with the way he’s looking like he wants to devour you.

You can’t get the look in Taehyung’s eyes out of your head when you leave the shop even though he has gone back to normal. Nothing about Taehyung is sultry anymore. You can’t help but wonder if you perhaps imagined it in the first place. It was so out of character for Taehyung, maybe you were only seeing what you wanted. Because if you were being honest, nothing sounds better than knowing Taehyung wanted you. That this man who seemed more like a god than a human picked you out of all the people. Someone so quiet and boring, who liked to spend their days sat in front of a computer and making stories out of their head. That someone so bright and lively like Taehyung, enriched with the colors of life, would find you and your monochrome world enrapturing.

“Where to now Tae?” You ask, readjusting the bag that holds your cakes in your hand. Taehyung notices your discomfort and takes the bag from you.

“I wanted to go take some pictures.”

“Let’s drop the cake off back at the dorms though. It’ll get gross if we carry it outside all day.”

You and Taehyung walk hand in hand back to the dorms, stopping by Jimin and Namjoon’s rooms on the way. Knocking on Jimin’s door, you’re greeted by the sight of a sleepy Jimin, his hair tousled and his eyes slowly blinking as he rubs the sleep away. “Yeah?” He croaks, voice raspy.

“Just wanted to see what you guys were up to. Plus we have cake!” You say which immediately makes Jimin perk up.

“Cake?” He says excitedly, salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs. You chuckle and rub his hair.

“Yes puppy. You want some?” He nods, running across the hall to wake up Namjoon who was apparently also still asleep.

“You guys do know it’s like one pm right? What were you guys doing last night?” Taehyung asks as you look around for any cutlery and plates in Jimin’s room.

“We were playing Overwatch with our friend Jungkook from back home. He wouldn’t let us go to sleep until we won.” Namjoon says, stifling a yawn.

“Wow you guys must suck then.” You snicker, earning a half-hearted middle finger from Jimin. “Puppy do you have any like forks and plates?”

“I have chopsticks?” Jimin pulls four sets of chopsticks from seemingly out of nowhere.

“Did you pull chopsticks out your ass or something? Where did they come from?” Taehyung asks.

“If they were from his ass they’d be broken.” Namjoon laughs, taking a pair from Jimin’s hand, sanding the chopsticks quickly before taking a chunk out of your cake.

“Do-do I want to know?” You ask and Namjoon shrugs.

“No, probably not.” Jimin unsheathes his before taking a bite for himself and moaning at the sugary goodness.

“I wish I could live off cake.”

“Why aren’t you eating my cake?” Taehyung whines at Namjoon and Jimin who are crowded around yours.

“Scientific fact that what looks better, tastes better.” Jimin shrugs, moving to take another large bite.

“It’s alright Tae, I’ll eat your cake.” Taking a rather large bite you grin at him, earning yourself a large grin back. “Want some?” You ask, holding out a piece of cake between your chopsticks. You swear you see the same look as before flicker in Taehyung’s eyes as he wraps his lips around the chopsticks but you turn away quickly with a blush to avoid your mind going elsewhere. Taehyung only sees you as a friend and you’ll have to accept that.

The sun has dipped behind the horizon when you and Taehyung finally make it back outside after a ‘family’ dinner with Jimin and Namjoon. Both you and Taehyung have bright smiles painted on your faces, eyes bright and sparkling from Jimin’s secret Apple Ale stash. You tuck your arm into the crook of Taehyung’s as you both carry on down the street, admiring the London sky as you pretend the street lamps are stars. You look over at Taehyung in his big hoodie and black beanie, swaying slightly as you loose your focus to his beauty. Painted in the soft yellow lights, Taehyung looks like an angel sent down from heaven. Your own guardian angel sent down from above to watch over you and show you all the good in the world. You wonder if perhaps a cynical main character and their doting guardian angel would be worth writing. If you could write about Taehyung maybe they would be. You laugh to yourself, watching as Taehyung bends down to call a nearby pigeon. Maybe you should just write a biography about Taehyung since you’re so smitten. Your breath hitches, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by your feelings for a boy you’ve only known a week and you take a few steps back like separating yourself from him will distance you from your feelings. It’s useless because even as he has his back turned to you, you can’t find anything more beautiful than the boy in front of you in this entire city. Damn you and your hopeless romantic heart. It’s been a week and you’ve written nothing, wanting to spend every second basking in Taehyung’s attention. What kind of writer even are you?

Taehyung turns to you finally realizing you’re not beside him with his eyebrows drawn together in concern. When he notices your glassy eyes he immediately cups your face in his large hands. You try and shake them off as your chest shakes but he simply shushes you, placing sloppy kisses on your forehead as a way to soothe you. “What’s wrong love?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” You murmur, looking up at the sky as a way to avoid his imploring eyes.

“Nothing you feel is stupid. Talk to me.”

“I-I just…” You take a moment to collect your thoughts and find your voice. “why am I here? I haven’t written anything this whole week, none of my ideas are good enough. Namjoon’s already almost done with his first song on his mixtape, Jimin’s finished two paintings for his collection. You’ve already found inspiration and what do I have? I have an empty word document on my laptop that’ll probably never be filled.” Taehyung is silent after your speech, his eyes searching for something in yours but you’re not sure what.

“What inspires you?” He asks suddenly and you push his hands away.

“Taehyung were you listening? I have none.”

“No, not what inspires you to write but you as a person. As y/n. What’s your motivation?” He pushes, grabbing your hands back to hold between his own.

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t really have any motivation. I just do it because I like it.”

He takes a step closer and lets go of your hand to put it on your cheek instead. “No motivation huh?” He asks and you hold your breath. It almost seems like he’s going to kiss you and you can’t help but look down at his pink lips, looking soft and pretty. Almost like they’re waiting for you to kiss them. They curve into a smirk and you look back into Taehyung’s eyes to see the same look from earlier flickering in them. “I bet I could find you some.” He chuckles before pressing his lips onto your own. Although you suspected kissing you was his intention you can’t help but freeze for a second before it finally clicks and you melt into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck while his own settle on your waist to pull you closer. When you part your breathing is labored and his lips are slightly swollen, making you press a quick peck to them in pride that you’re the one who made them that way.

“Did you like it?” He asks wryly and you nod your head. “That means you’re gonna do it again right?” You can’t help the giggle tumbling out of your throat as you bury your head in Taehyung’s sweatshirt.

“Yes dufus, I’m gonna do it again.” You reach up to press a soft kiss to his lips but he pulls back making you frown.

“Does this mean I get to be your boyfriend?” He grins cheekily and you blush.

“If you want to be.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to be love.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your nose in lieu of booping it with his finger. “But kisses are for motivation only. If you can’t find motivation for yourself, I’ll be yours.” He grins and you pull him closer for a hug.

“Thanks Tae.”

“Anytime love.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Now come on, I’ve got an empty SD card waiting to be filled and a whole night to get you inspired.” He pulls away and you whine at the loss of his warmth, crawling into his side so he throws his arm around your waist as you walk.

“Where to?” You ask, free hand clutching onto a hot chocolate to fight the cold in the air.

“I got a place in mind.”

Taehyung walks with you along the Thames River, humming happily as he snaps pictures of the moonlight reflecting on the water. You stand quietly beside him as he stops to take pictures of bright red buses and telephone booths. You even run past the camera as it takes a time lapse, becoming lost in the sea of people it captures. “So what’re you gonna do with the photos?” You ask Taehyung, swinging your hands together.

“When we get back to the dorm, I’ll upload them to my computer and overlap them on photoshop. The time lapse one is gonna take a while but I think the end result will be really cool.” Taehyung stops suddenly, eyes wide with excitement and you look around you curious as to what caught his attention mid-sentence.

“Love, we need to go on that carousel.” He doesn’t wait for your reply, hastily dragging you towards the brightly colored ride that plays a soft classical tune as it rotates.

“Tae aren’t we too old for this?”

“Age is just a number love. Who’s to say we’re too young or too old to enjoy things anyways? Besides maybe this could inspire you.”

“I’m trusting you.” You tell him, trying not to focus on the weird looks people are giving you as Taehyung clambers onto the ride and sits on a tiger. He pats the horse next to him happily. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” You tell him and he only laughs.

“Say ‘Tae is the best boyfriend ever’.” He giggles, pointing the camera in your direction. You roll your eyes but say it nonetheless, grinning at his happy smile. He turns around then, pointing the camera out towards the city, getting lost amidst trying to capture the perfect shot. You wiggle your phone out of your pocket and take a secret photo of your own: your large boyfriend sprawled across a plastic tiger meant for a child with a camera pressed firmly to his face and the tip of his tongue pinned between the corner of his lips in concentration. You smile softly at the photo before saving it as your lock screen and tucking the phone back into your pocket.

The ride finally comes to a stop and Taehyung helps you down from your horse, arms wrapped tightly around you in a back hug as you walk back onto the streets, his camera slung lazily over his shoulder. “Did you have fun?” He asks and you nod, leaning your head back into him.

“Yeah.”

“Any inspiration?”

“Unless you want me to write about a killer clown then no.”

“I take you on a cute date and all you get from it is a killer clown. That hurts love.” Taehyung fake pouts when you turn around to face him and you press a soft kiss to his lips to pacify him. He grins immediately, chasing after your lips again.

A slightly heated makeout session later that resulted in a stranger yelling ‘get some!’ at the two of you leads you both on your way back to the dorm, heart warm but hands very very cold. You squeeze onto Taehyung’s hand harder as your other clutches the pocket of your jacket and Taehyung turns his head at you. “What’s wrong?”

“My hand’s cold.”

“Your hand is always cold.” He says, cutting you off to continue speaking when you open your mouth. “I know, I know. Poor circulation.”

“If I were Jimin I’d flip you off right now.” You say causing him to laugh heartily before slipping your conjoined hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“There. Better?” He asks and you hold back a blush, turning your head away and pretending to focus on a nearby building instead.

When you finally make it to the dorms you’re blinking slowly, eyes heavy as you sway slightly in exhaustion. Taehyung still has your hand and his in his pocket and he’s reluctant to let go even though you can see the tiredness reflected in his own eyes. “We should go to bed. We have class in the morning.”

“We should.” Taehyung says and you both just stare at each other for a minute before he finally relents and gives your hand a final squeeze. “I miss you already.” He whines as you bring your hand back to your side.

“You’ll see me in the morning.” You smile softy.

“I know but that’s so far away.” You lean up to place a soft kiss onto his lips, a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Goodnight Taehyung.”

“Goodnight love.” He smiles watching as you enter you dorm and close the door.

The next morning Taehyung arrives at your dorm bright and early, a smile plastered on his face and two coffees in his hand. “One coffee for my wonderful girlfriend.”

“Tae you didn’t have to.” You say softly, pecking his soft cheek gratefully.

“I know but as your boyfriend it’s my job to spoil you. Besides, maybe in your story you can write about a handsome boyfriend who brings his girlfriend coffee every morning.” He winks, taking your hand in his own as he leads you downstairs into the main hall to wait for Jimin and Namjoon.

“Are you asking to be one my characters Kim Taehyung?”

“I do think I’m quite main character worthy.” He grins and you laugh, shoving his shoulder slightly.

“If anyone deserves to be a character it’s me.” Jimin announces, doing a slow spin for you to take in his outfit.

“A talented artist and model, traveling the city of Paris alone in a quest to find inspiration.”

Namjoon coughs loudly muttering ‘amateur’ under his breath.

“Did I ask?” Jimin says to Namjoon, scowling at the older boy. “But really have you seen me? If I wasn’t the reincarnation of Van Gogh, you’d see me strutting down the Paris runway and making it my bitch. I mean look at this ass, it was meant for fame.”

“Okay Kim K, no need to be defensive. But I think a much better story would be about a boy struggling to find himself, trying to use others to define who he is as a person until realizing that his character is who defines him, not materialistic things or other people.”

“How dare you make fun of me for wanting to be a character and then suggesting yourself as one. You’re many things Kim Namjoon, but I never took you for a hypocrite.” Jimin sniffles loudly, looking up into the lights above to try and bring tears to his eyes.

“With all that fake crying maybe you should be a YouTuber instead.” Namjoon says, causing you all to break out into a fit of giggles. Jimin flops dramatically onto the ground, clutching his heart while rolling along the floor.

“Betrayed by my own best friend!” He yells as he writhes.

“You done?” Namjoon asks, utterly unimpressed with Jimin’s antics.

“Hang on, one more minute.” Jimin says before letting out a loud groan and rolling around some more. Jimin finally picks himself up off the floor and makes grabby hands at your coffee. “Please, I’m exhausted from all that work.”

“You just rolled around on the floor.” Namjoon says and Jimin flips him off.

“Do you hear something guys? It’s almost like the ghost of Namjoon is speaking to me.”

“You can’t say I’m dead to you and then respond to what I’m saying.”

“Sometimes I still hear his voice…” Jimin drowns on. “But seriously I do need some coffee.”

“Here you can have some of mine.” Taehyung says, pushing his cup into Jimin’s hand when he reaches for yours instead.

“Oh okay.” Jimin’s gaze flicks between the two of you. “Why’re you being weird about sharing stuff now?”

“I’m not! Just another guy drinking out of my girlfriend’s drink seems…weird.”

“I already knew you two were dating dumbass.” Jimin rolls his eyes, taking a large slurp from Taehyung’s cup before slinging an arm around the taller’s shoulder. “But if it makes you uncomfortable I’ll leach off you now.”

Friday night Jimin whisks you away from a whining Taehyung, claiming you both need some separation as he drags you to his own room and locks the door. “Is there a reason you’re holding me hostage from my boyfriend?” You tease, flopping down onto Jimin’s bed.

“I have tea and Namjoon doesn’t give me the reactions I want.”

“Ouch, you only want me for my dramatics.” You gripe. Jimin rolls his eyes at you before pushing you over on the bed so he can sit down next to you.

“Don’t act like you don’t play favorites.” Jimin says, causing you to sit up and almost knock into his shoulder with your own.

“How dare you!” You gasp and Jimin snickers.

“Oh Tae, let’s go eat. Tae I’m cold, come hug me. Taehyung I’m bored let’s makeout.” Jimin drawls on, making you slap his shoulder.

“I’ve never said that.”

“Maybe not to me, no.” Jimin waggles his eyebrows.

“You’re the worst.”

“I think you mean best.” He corrects and you flip him off.

“Aww look at you, you’re taking after me! I feel so honored to be your biggest influence.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re an influence at all.”

“Every time you try to be mean to me, it’s like a puppy trying to growl. You’re just so cute it’s not scary at all.” Jimin chides, pinching your cheeks between his fingers. You slap them away annoyedly with a huff.

“So what was the tea?” You ask, trying to change the topic of conversation.

“Oh right! Wait a sec, I need to make popcorn.” Jimin hastily gets up and throws a bag in the microwave, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor while he waits for the two minutes for it to pop. When the timer finishes Jimin immediately takes the bag and throws it at you disregarding you juggling the hot bag.

“Okay so the tea is your boyfriend is a rat and ate all my cookies.” You blink a few times at Jimin to fully process his words.

“I’m sorry what?”

“And as his supervisor, the debt now falls onto you. I request two packs of oreo cookies mega stuffed because we all know the cream is the best part. Thank you for coming to my ted talk, you may now rejoin your boyfriend who’s currently harassing me for stealing away your attention.” Jimin concludes, clapping his hands together before ushering you out of his room while his phone buzzes continuously in the corner.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’m about to watch the titanic and cry my eyes out before bed to clear my body of toxins. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jimin waves before closing the door.

When you arrive back downstairs, Taehyung immediately pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on your head. “What was that about?” Taehyung asks as he maneuvers you to lay on his bed so he can cuddle you.

“Apparently you owe Jimin two packs of oreos?”

“I literally ate like two cookies.” Taehyung groans, tucking his face into your neck.

“Well Persephone, looks like you have a debt to pay.”

Part 2 coming soon!

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