#she spilled her coffee on me in the hallway. i don’t even have a change of clothes

[anonbinaryweirdo]

if this account is still active by college expect updates about my situationship (my rivals/enemies to lovers girlfriend i made up in my head weeks ago)

[thefallennightmare]

Fika-Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson: 2/2

*made by @madomens. check her out!*

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson x OFC.

Warnings: some angst, swearing, lots of fluff, smut, mentions of death.

Summary: To appease her dying father’s wishes, Astrid takes over the family coffee shop: Fïka. Plans to restore it to its former glory: setting her dreams and ambitions aside- that is until she meets an unexpected stranger. This very stranger changes the trajectory of her life.

Authors Note: Here is part two my lovelies!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @somewhere-diamond @concreteemo @ladispo0p @to-be-written @lilmonster218 @whenthesummerdies @lizzieseveride @blackveilomens @malice-ov-mercy @lma1986 @klutzy-kay24 @baddestomens @cncohshit @jilliemiw86 @cookiesupplier

ASTRID

Straightening out my black floral sundress, I knocked on the front door and waited patiently. Surprisingly it was a warm February evening in Los Angeles but I still wrapped my jacket tighter around me and then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, opting to leave it down tonight. Exhaustion crept into my bones after a long day of running the cafe but at about seven, I left Jessica and Tori to close up so I could come here. 

All day, I could only think of mine and Jolly’s kiss and the way it made me feel so alive. Yes, it made it harder to work today but it was worth it when I remembered how his lips tasted or how he smelled. Every part of him had absorbed into me with our kiss and I craved more. 

Earlier today, Jolly texted me the address to his house and a time of when to show up. So here I was six p.m. on the dot shaking out the nerves just as the door opened, the music from the house spilling into the street.

“Hey, Astrid!” 

I smiled at Jesse. “Hi!” 

He waved me inside. “Come on in. Make yourself at home. 

Stepping over the threshold, I did my best to calm my nerves again when I noticed a lot of unfamiliar faces and I felt very out of place. I was two seconds away from turning on my heels and leaving until Y/N stepped into the living room from a hallway. 

“Astrid, hey!” Her cheery voice waved me over. “Jolly told me you were coming. I’m so glad because I’m so over being the only girl at these things.” 

“Yeah,” I chuckled, then held up a bag. “I-uh-brought some sweets from Fika. It was the batch that didn’t sell today and I figured you guys would enjoy them more than being tossed out.” 

Y/N’s eyes lit up as she took the bag. “Oh my gosh, you know the way to my heart. Let me introduce you to everyone.” 

She linked her arms with mine, and that simple action washed away every anxiety I had tonight. I couldn’t explain it but Y/N seemed to be the sunshine in a dark room, making everyone forget the bad in their life for a few moments. 

First, she pointed to a couple that was leaning against the kitchen island, hand in hand. 

“This is Malcolm,” Y/N motioned to a tall man with long auburn curls and hazel eyes that mirrored my own. 

“And his boyfriend, Chase,” then she pointed to a man next to Malcolm. 

His head was buzzed, only fuzz of his blonde hair, but his bright blue eyes were striking. 

“They’re also my best friends and roommates,” Y/N informed. 

“Nice to meet you, Astrid,” Malcolm smiled. 

Chase nodded. “Jolly hasn’t stopped talking about you all night.” 

I shuffled my feet, wondering what exactly Jolly had told them about me. “Oh?” 

“It seems as if someone is smitten,” he smirked behind the cup as he brought it to his lips, taking a sip. 

Y/N waved them off before leading me toward another group of guys that sat at the kitchen table. 

“Geez, you weren’t kidding about being the only girl here,” I joked with a smile. 

“Tell me about it so if I seem a bit clingy, I apologize. It’s just nice to have another female here.” 

I patted her arm reassuringly. “You’re fine, Y/N. I don’t mind at all.” 

As we stopped in front of the table, six sets of eyes stared at me. All of them had a wide variety of tattoos but warm smiles. 

“Okay so,” Y/N started rattling off names as she pointed to everyone. “That’s Nicholas, Nick but you can call him Folio, Matt, Davis, Michael, and Bryan.” 

“Sorry, it’s a lot of names thrown at you at once,” Folio apologized. 

“If I couldn’t remember names, I wouldn’t be good at my job,” I shrugged with a laugh. 

“Oh, that’s right! You own that cafe on W. 9th? Fika?” Matt asked. 

I wore a proud smile. “That’s the one.”

For the next few minutes, I chatted with all of them until movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Peering up to the sliding glass door of the house, I noticed both Noah and Jolly standing outside on the back deck, grilling some sort of food. It seemed like they were having a deep conversation, Noah running his hand over his face a few times and Jolly listening intently. 

Almost as if he felt me staring, Jolly glanced away from the grill, his dark eyes immediately finding mine. I gave him a small wave, one he returned before going back to his conversation with Noah. 

“I hope you’re hungry,” Nicholas said, pulling my attention back inside. “Jolly insisted on cooking tonight for all of us.” 

I played with the straps of my purse. “He cooks?” 

“Out of all of us, he’s one of the best. Noah likes to cook but if it were up to either of them, it’s always Jolly,” Matt said. 

“The rest of us just eat,” Folio finished with a chuckle. 

As I continued to talk with all of Jolly’s friends, a genuine smile on my face, I felt someone's warm embrace encased around me as a gentle hand rested on my lower back. 

“Käraste,” Jolly’s deep voice breathed into my hairline.

Gazing up at him, my breath caught in my throat when I met his dark eyes. I’d seen them up close many times before but every single time, they took my breath away. The tan long sleeve he wore did wonders for his skin and half of his long hair was tied back into a bun so I was able to fully see him. 

“Hi,” I turned towards him. 

He motioned to everyone behind me. “Are they being nice?” 

I patted his chest, fingers messing with his necklace. “Yes, very welcoming.” 

“Good,” he hummed and laced our fingers together. “Are you hungry?” 

Suddenly the smell of fresh food filled my nostrils and my stomach growled, something Jolly picked up on because he chuckled. Pulling out the stool at the kitchen island for me, I sat with a smile of thanks and watched as he grabbed a plate. 

He motioned to the wide spread of chicken and steak shish kabobs with a variety of different veggies. “Anything a no on this list?” 

“Nope. I’ll have a little bit of everything please,” I said. 

While Jolly filled my plate with food, Noah motioned toward the open fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” 

“Water is fine, thank you.” 

After he set down a bottle of water in front of me, Y/N was trying to make herself a plate of food but Noah quickly smacked her hands away. 

“Noah, I can-,” she started. 

“Not a chance, angel. Sit down and I’ll bring it to you.” 

I watched the two of them interact with a faint smile, Noah brushing back Y/N’s hair after he brought her a plate and lay a soft kiss on her lips. 

Jolly set down my own plate and I thanked him with a wide smile. “Thank you, Jolly.” 

We sat in silence for a few moments as we ate while everyone else had their own conversations but when his rough fingers grazed over my knee, I turned my head to look at Jolly. 

“Did you ever figure out why the alarm went off last night?” 

I groaned while setting down my fork. “I’m not sure. When I checked it out, every door was locked shut so I’m unsure why the alarm went off.” 

“Maybe a glitch?” Jolly suggested while taking our plates to the sink. 

“Hm, maybe,” I tapped my fingers on the edge of the counter. 

He quickly returned to my side to grasp my hand and led me toward the evergreen sectional couch. He pulled down with him and I crossed one leg over the other and his hand immediately rested on my knee, tracing random shapes on the skin there. 

“You look beautiful,” Jolly mused. 

I tried to hide behind my hair so he couldn’t see the way I blushed at his comment. But he brushed it away, tucking it behind my neck to fully expose myself to him.

“Don’t hide, Astrid,” he said. 

I ran my hands over my thighs. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Because of me?” Jolly wondered, almost removing his hand from my knee but I placed mine over it. 

“Of dating in general, I suppose,” I admitted with a long breath. “This is the first time in a long while that anyone has shown any interest in me.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” he said while turning his body inward towards me. 

I shrugged, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I’ve been so busy with school before having to drop out to take over Fika that dating took a back seat.” 

Jolly’s fingers grazed over the back of my neck and I leaned into his touch. “So you never had time to focus on yourself?” 

“I guess, yes in a sense,” I agreed with a shrug. “I’ve never put my feelings first before anything so it’s a bit new.” 

“What are those feelings telling you right now?” He wondered, one hand on my knee and the other resting on the back of my neck. 

Swallowing thickly, I turned my face up towards him so our lips were meters apart. I watched as his gaze bounced from my eyes down to my lips to trace every movement of my tongue as it glided over them before resting on my eyes once again. 

“I would like to kiss you again,” I breathed while tracing a finger over the stubble on his chin. 

Something flashed in Jolly’s eyes before he peeked over my shoulder to see that everyone else had been preoccupied with other things then he linked our fingers together and gently but quickly pulled me up from the couch. 

“Would it be alright if we go up to my bedroom?” 

My heart skipped a beat at his question. While it was clear that Jolly was filled with anticipation for kissing me again, he still wanted to make sure I was alright with going up into his bedroom with him. 

A little too eagerly, I nodded which caused him to grasp my hips and lead me up the stairs, away from the small group of friends that pretended to ignore us slipping away. But quickly glancing back, I saw Y/n who was sitting on Noah’s lap on the couch, giving me a playful wink. 

In the seclusion of the upstairs hallway, Jolly stopped in front of a closed door but made no effort to open it. Instead, I felt his warm breath over my ear right before his lips pressed a tender kiss to my neck. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

With his hands still on my hips, I turned in his embrace to lock my arms around his neck. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.” 

Not saying anything but keeping me in his embrace, Jolly opened the door and led me backward into his room. It was dark but my eyes quickly adjusted to his face as I heard him kick the door shut. There was an eerie silence in the confines around us but our heavy breathing seemed to break through it. My name was hushed on his lips as his hand grasped my cheek, the roughness of his fingers tracing over my bottom lip. I pressed a kiss to them causing him to suck in a breath. 

Jolly swallowed hard, his chest heaving with shaky whispers as he spoke again. 

“Nu när jag har dig vill jag inte släppa dig.”

Blinking up at him, I was rooted to the ground, spinning while standing straight. Dizzy in my blood and my soul. I was breathing like I was Icarus when he finally felt the air between his wax wings as he flew towards the sun like I’d been inhaling a special kind of oxygen you could only find in the clouds. I was trying to keep myself from breaking the spell between us to ask him what he said in Swedish. 

With his hand still caressing my cheek, Jolly leaned in so carefully all while breathing but yet not breathing. Our hearts beat between us and he was so close now, I could almost feel the softness of his lips. While our first kiss seemed to have a rushed start, it was as if Jolly wanted to enjoy the build-up; and take his time with me. 

I couldn’t feel my legs, my fingers, or the cold emptiness of this room because all I felt was Jolly everywhere, filling everything in and around me. Then all at once, Jolly’s lips were on mine, softer than anything I’d ever known. My hands found his chest, grasping his necklace between my fingers while one hand tangled in my hair and the other grazed up the bare skin of my thigh.

His lips were soft like the first snowfall of the season. They tasted like biting into cotton candy for the first time and the explosion of sweetness filling your mouth; so effortlessly sweet. I felt weightless while floating in the water when his tongue slipped between my lips and I moaned as our kiss deepened. Slowly, Jolly backed me up towards his bed and when I felt the edge of it smack against the back of my knees, the two of us fell into a heap of tangled limbs and tongues. 

I giggled into the kiss as he muttered a slew of curses. 

“I meant to be more suave with that,” Jolly admitted while marking my neck with tender teeth. 

I titled my head to the side, giving him more access. “I appreciate the effort.” 

Leaving the mark on my neck, he attacked my lips once again with such fever it made my head spin. Our teeth smacked against each other as our tongues devoured each other with such hunger. Jolly’s calloused hand grazed up my leg to my thigh before resting at the end of my dress. 

“Astrid,” he breathed when my hands slipped underneath his shirt. 

His skin was a blaze as my fingers danced across the waistband of his jeans which made him break away from our kiss, resting his forehead against mine. 

“Hang on,” Jolly muttered before untangling himself from me. 

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried. 

Suddenly, a lamp clicked on, painting the room in a faint golden hue and it was then that I got a good look at Jolly. He was standing at the end of his bed now, while I lay on his bed on my elbows, and his dark eyes stalked me like a hunter with prey. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath and his lips were swollen from the force of our kiss. When I trailed my gaze down the long length of him, I nearly choked on a breath when I realized that I had done nothing wrong; his cock was prominent in his jeans, straining for release. 

Licking my lips, I locked eyes with Jolly again to see him take out the top half of his hair from its elastic, the strands falling to his shoulders in waves. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, käraste,” he ran a hand over his face. “I just want to slow things down in case this isn’t something you wanted.” 

I sat up now and shook my head. “Jolly, if I didn’t have the slight inclination something more than just making out might happen tonight, I wouldn’t have agreed to come up here with you.” 

He nodded but still made no move to come back to bed, instead stuffed his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans. So briefly, I faltered and pulled my knees closer to me. 

“Unless this isn’t something you want?” 

“Käraste, all I want is you. The thought of you has overtaken every one of my thoughts the last few days,” Jolly admitted while taking a tentative step towards me. 

My heart beat wildly in my chest with his admission so I extended my hand towards him, inviting him back to his bed. The familiarity of his hands grasped mine as he knelt on his bed, towering over me. The knuckles with tattoos grazed over my cheek just before his lips met mine again. I allowed him to slip his hands now underneath my dress to pull it up over my head then tossed it to the floor. 

Pulling away from our kiss, Jolly sat back on his knees to gaze down at me wearing nothing but a pair of black panties; me kicking off my shoes when she tumbled to the bed together. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, eyes going dark with lust as he continued to stare at me. “You’re beautiful.” 

I cast my eyes downward with a blush which made Jolly lift my chin with a knuckle so I could peer up at him. 

“Don’t hide, Astrid. I want to see all of you.” 

I wasn't sure why I was nervous in front of him. I’d never been shy when it came to sex, knowing what I liked and being vocal about it, but now sitting in front of Jolly like this, I couldn't stop myself from hiding. 

He was gentle as his lips found mine again, this kiss slower, more sensual, as I leaned up into him while rising to my knees. I made quick work of taking off his shirt, only breaking our kiss for a moment, and scratched my nails over his chest, up to his shoulder. Jolly hissed in pleasure and then began to lie me back on his bed, the warm comforter bringing a sense of comfort to my chilled skin. 

Jolly began kissing over the tattoos across my chest, his hums of approval etched into me, and I leaned farther back into the mattress, exposing all of him to me. My pussy ached with such force, I needed some sort of pressure to alleviate the pain, so I grabbed Jolly’s hips to bring him closer to me, the rough material of his jeans brushing over the thin material of my underwear. 

“Shit,” I groaned.

Breaking away from littering my chest with tiny marks, Jolly sat up to quickly remove his jeans, joining the growing pile of our clothes on the floor. As he stood at the end of the bed, I assessed his tattoos the same way he had done mine. His entire left arm was covered in a sleeve of various designs. His chest had a woman with a mask and winged helmet, roses, and directly in the middle of his chest was a shining diamond. Gazling lower, I noticed he had a tattoo on his right knee. 

I licked my lips when I took in the full sight of Jolly, standing in front of me in his gray briefs, hair a disheveled mess from my hands running through it, and lips bruised from the force of our kiss. 

“Astrid.” His deep voice made my eyes snap up to his. “Are you sure?” 

“Please,” I nodded once, my voice hushed due to being lost in lust. Weeks of flirting, stolen glances, and soft touches had led up to this moment and I was in dire need of release. “I need you, Joakim.”

Darkness shadowed his eyes and slowly began crawling up my body, leaving small kisses along each of the tattoos on my leg, the one on my thigh, and my ribs. He linked his hand with mine which had the Medusa tattoo and locked it above my head. 

“Say it again,” he groaned into the crook of my neck, his cock pressing to the inside of my thigh. 

My nails raked down his back. “Joakim.” 

His chest rumbled low with a noise I’d never heard before as he quickly slipped off my underwear so now I was completely bare for him. Jolly’s finger brushed between my folds, gathering up the wetness between my legs, and I shivered underneath him. 

“So wet.” 

He slipped one finger inside of me then began a languid pace of fucking me with his finger. My eyes fluttered shut only for the briefest of moments until Jolly’s deep voice rasped in my ear. 

“Look at me, Astrid.” 

Snapping my eyes open, I watched him through hazy vision as Jolly peered down to my pussy, watching his finger disappear inside of me. 

“Faster,” I breathed. “Please.” 

All at once, Jolly’s pace quickened and when his warm mouth covered my left nipple, tongue and teeth teasing, I bucked my hips into his hand. My knees buckled when he added a second finger, spearing me wide open. 

“Joakim,” I moaned while grasping at the back of his head, keeping him in place. 

His actions on my nipple halted briefly. “Fuck, say it again. I need to hear you say my name again.” 

I did, like a mantra when my orgasm began to crest then all at once washed through me in a tidal wave. Just before I could scream out my release, Jolly swallowed them with a kiss so spellbinding, I couldn’t feel the pad of his thumb on my clit to work me through the aftershocks. With the heat of a second orgasm building, I ran my hands down his stomach to pull on the waistband of his briefs. Jolly understood because, with my help, he shimmed out of them before kicking them off to the side. 

Breaking away from the kiss, I stared down between us and let out a groan. His cock was long but thick and I licked my lips, suddenly wanting a taste. Using my strength, I pushed Jolly on his chest so he was lying on the bed now. 

“Käraste,” he warned. “I’m not going to last-.” 

I hushed him by grabbing his cock with a tight grasp. “Just a little taste.” 

Jolly jerked when my hand started to move up and down, spreading the precum around the head with my thumb. Glancing up at him through the strands of hair that fell into my face, my breath stuttered at the sight. His head was buried in the pillow, long forearm covering his eyes, but his lips were parted. The muscles in his stomach contracted as he forced himself to not let out a breath, anticipating my mouth sinking around him. 

So that's exactly what I did. 

Wetting my lips, I hollow my cheeks before taking Jolly in my mouth all at once, never once gagging. His guttural groans broke through the otherwise silent bedroom when I held myself there for a few seconds, my tongue pressing on the underside of his cock. Then my lips parted around his thick, veiny cock, tasting the salt of his precum in my mouth. I hummed in sheer approval, loving how he tasted and needing more of him. I slid down his shaft until my nose was buried in his dark hairs and his crown struck the back of my throat. 

“Fuck. Shit,” Jolly choked out and held my face in place with his hands before he began fucking my throat. 

I moaned around him as the tears gathered at the corner of my eyes and drool dribbled down my chin. But I refused to let him know I couldn’t handle it because I knew I could. 

“Astrid,” my name was strangled on his lips. 

Suddenly, his hips writhed underneath my nails as I clawed at him before I was pulled off of him with a loud pop and I squealed when he shifted our positions so now he was kneeling between my legs. Jolly leaned over to his bedside table to rummage through the drawer, immediately pulling out a condom. I swallowed thickly when the realization of what was about to happen sunk in. 

We’d already come this far, there was no way I’d deny us this. I wanted it just as much as he did. 

I needed this. 

But the fear of how it would change things between us lingered in the back of my mind while I watched Jolly roll the condom on his cock, hands shaking slightly. I noted that he was also nervous but opted to not say anything. 

Spreading my legs wide for him, Jolly angled the head of his cock towards me, and with a fast gaze up at me, I nodded. My back arched off the bed as my hands grasped at anything I could to keep myself centered when he sank his entire length inside of me. 

“Oh,” I whined a moan when the thickness of his cock filled me. 

“So tight,” Jolly grunted as his hips stilled, nipping his teeth on my breasts. 

We stayed like this for a few steady beats, our breaths syncing as soon as our bodies did. He lifted my thigh to my chest so he could bury himself deeper and I squeezed around him. 

“Please,” I husked while moving my hips. “I need you to move.” 

His eyes were blown wide with lust as leaned down to crush his lips to mine, immediately forcing his tongue in my mouth. Jolly’s hips began to move with such fever that the mattress beneath us began to creak. 

“Fuck, I forgot how loud my bed is,” he chuckled into the crook in my neck as he sucked on the tender skin there. 

In turn, I giggled but then hissed in sheer ecstasy when the head of his cock hit that perfect spot. The fire spread from my gut through my veins and when I clenched around him again, Jolly’s teeth grazed my ear, hips still holding his sensual, steady pace. 

“Touch yourself,” he urged. 

My fingers quickly the swollen nub between my legs and worked in the pattern I knew all too well; the one that would grant me the release that was about to break free. But I sensed that Jolly was holding back so I brushed the sweat-matted hair away from his face with my free hand, his dark eyes gone from pure bliss. 

“I need you to go faster. Please,” I sighed. 

While my body reacted in the most euphoric way to him, I needed him to hurt me in a sense. The harder and faster his cock slammed into me, the better it felt. 

Jolly laid a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I might not last long, käraste.” 

I paused my fingers against my clit to press a tender kiss on his lips, one he returned without a missed beat. 

“Neither am I. I’m so close, Joakim.” 

His head fell to my shoulder and nuzzled the side of my neck with his facial hair for a brief moment before pulling himself completely out of me. Before I could whine in protest, he flipped me to my stomach and dug his nails into my skin to hoist my hips up in the air. One large hand pressed against my back to keep me against the mattress while his other lined up his cock again however this time when he slipped inside, he was anything but gentle. 

My screams were muffled into the pillow when Jolly slammed into me from behind, over and over again with such force the headboard banged against the wall. Neither of us cared if anyone heard downstairs; only we mattered at this moment. The sound of skin slapping on skin tangled with the sounds of our moans of ecstasy and I thrived in the way his cock seemed to perfectly fit inside of me. His thickness filled me up completely. 

Reaching around, Jolly’s fingers found my clit and matched the pace with his hips, drawing fast circles in both directions and when his cock twitched inside of me, I knew that this was it. 

“Du är underbar, Astrid. Jag kan inte få nog av dig,” Jolly spoke into the skin of my back as he left a variety of kisses along my spine. 

I was gone in a haze of ecstasy that I didn’t even pick up my name in between the Swedish words. My toes curled with a scream when my second orgasm slammed into me without warning; without care to who heard us. 

“Joakim,” I writhed underneath him, my arousal coating the condom. 

Wrapping an arm around me, he lifted me so now I kneeled on the bed so he could fuck up into me. His fingers pinched and pulled on my nipples and I rested my head against his shoulder. 

“So warm. So perfect. Mina,” he promised with a kiss to the side of my head before Jolly finally emptied himself inside the condom.

We fell into a heap of exhaustion onto his bed then slowly, he slipped away from me so he could dispose of the condom. I lay there, clutching the pillow close to my chest as the exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyes. With all of the Swedish words Jolly had spoken to me, the last one was one I recognized. 

Mina. 

Mine. 

The bed dipped behind me and strong arms pulled me into a warm chest and I sighed in content. 

“Are you alright?” Jolly asked, pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder. 

“More than alright,” I hummed while shifting closer to him; his cock twitched against my bare ass. 

His fingers traced up and down the skin of my ribs while we lay there in complete but comfortable silence. I looked around his bedroom noticing for the first time how boxes were scattered about and it was vaguely decorated. 

“We just moved in a few weeks ago. Haven’t found the time to unpack everything,” Jolly answered my silent question. 

“Well, maybe if you weren’t coming to a certain cafe every day, maybe you would find the time,” I teased while linking our hands together and kissing the tattoos on his knuckles. 

“I can’t help it. She makes the best kanelbullars,” Jolly retorted. 

“You know,” I began. “Never mind, it’s silly.” 

He tilted my head back so I could look at him. “Nothing you say is silly, Astrid. Go on, tell me.” 

Biting my lip, I turned in his embrace so now I was laying my head on his chest and my left leg was thrown over his hips almost locking him in place. The touch of his fingers along my back brought chills to my skin so he covered us with a black throw blanket that honestly, only covered me but he never complained. 

“When I first took over Fika after my father passed away, I had every intention of selling it. It took a toll on my grandparents when they owned it and they nearly got a divorce. Thankfully they were able to make it through but my parents weren’t so lucky,” I admitted. 

Jolly remained quiet as I continued. “They divorced when I was young and my mom wanted nothing to do with me or Fika claiming it was cursed, so she left. I stayed with my dad and helped out there every day until I went away to college.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hairline. 

I shrugged. “College wasn't for me anyway so when-uh-when my dad got sick, I came back home to help him. His mind wasn’t right so he nearly went bankrupt.” 

“Sick?” 

Resting my chin on Jolly’s chest, I looked up at him. “Alzheimer’s. It took him pretty quickly so he didn’t suffer but as a result, he left me with Fika which was days away from closing. If it wasn't for my mormor investing more of her money into Fika, there’d be no way we’d be open right now.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smile. “Mormor? So you do know Swedish.” 

I patted his chest with a snort. “Very little.” 

Jolly brushed a kiss along my forehead. “I’m sorry about your father.” 

With a tight-lined smile, I decided to continue with my original train of thought, not wanting to go into too much detail about my father and his death. 

Since you were the one who found him slumped over in his chair, pill bottles askew. 

“When my grandparents moved back to Sweden, all I had was my dad. It was the two of us for a long time so when he died a few months ago, I felt lost and alone. It made me realize how afraid I’d always been of being alone. I’ve trusted people too easily because of this fear and ended up getting my heart broken.” 

Jolly’s body tensed underneath me as I continued speaking, running my fingers over the tattoo on his chest. “With you, though. It’s been a nice breath of fresh air; something different. I haven’t had that fear since you walked into Fika that morning.” 

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’ll always be here for you.” 

I glanced up at Jolly. “But what I was getting at originally was that I had every intention to sell, ready to get rid of the place that held too many negative thoughts.” 

“But?” He caressed the side of my face. 

“But,” I smiled. “There have been far too many positive thoughts lately that outweigh the bad.” 

I kissed his chin, the stubble scratching my lips, and Jolly squeezed my hips. “I’m glad, Astrid.” 

Now I pressed a kiss to his lips, suddenly finished with talking, and straddled him. I pinned his hands above his head with one hand while I reached for his cock with the other. 

“Jolly!” 

Persistent knocking on his door made me hastily crawl off of him and reach for the first piece of clothing I could find; his tan long sleeve. Jolly sat up in bed to now cover both of our bottom halves with his large comforter. 

Giving me a quick glance, I nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah?” 

Tentatively, the door opened and in walked Jesse, who had a container of blueberries in his hand, popping a few in his mouth as he stared at us with raised brows. 

“Oh, shit. Am I interrupting something?” 

Jolly ran a hand over his face with a groan. “Do you need something?” 

“Astrid left her phone in the kitchen and I think someone’s been calling her,” Jesse informed while tossing my phone on Jolly’s bed. 

Thanking him with a smile, I reached for it and sucked in a breath when I noticed all the notifications and missed calls; Jese and Jolly having a conversation amongst themselves. 

“Noah wants to know if you’re still up for working tonight.” 

Jolly nodded before looking at me, running a hand down my back. “Everything alright?” 

Ignoring him briefly, I looked towards Jesse. “How long has my phone been going off?” 

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said while popping a few more blueberries in his mouth. 

Glancing over at Jolly, I sighed. “It’s the cafe. The alarm has been going off the last few minutes. I disarmed it but should go over there to look to make sure everything is alright.” 

“I’ll come with you,” he said. 

I rested a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. It seems like you have work to do. Plus, Tori and Jessica are there with the police officers. I won't be alone.” 

Just then someone walked past Jolly’s room and scolded Jesse who was still leaning against the wall, stuffing handfuls of blueberries in his mouth. 

“Jesse Cash! What is your obsession with not only fruit but interrupting people?!” Y/N scolded while crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I was bringing Astrid her phone,” he defended. 

It didn’t matter to her because she waved him out of the room. “You’re unbelievable.” 

I did my best to giggle at the two of them but the worry about what could have tripped the alarm weighed heavy in my mind. Eventually, Jesse left the room but Y/N briefly peaked her head in. 

“Not trying to interrupt because I understand the feeling,” she chuckled before speaking to Jolly. “Um, Noah is ready to get to work whenever you are. Just because of the deadline-.” 

“I know,” he nodded. “Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll meet him there.” 

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t bother to ask Jolly what kind of work pulls him away this late. 

“Astrid?” 

Glancing away from the text I had been working out to Jessica, I smile at Y/N. “Yea?” 

“I’m leaving in a few minutes. I can walk with you to your car if you’d like,” she offered. 

“I’d like that, thanks Y/N,” I nodded with another smile. 

Closing the door behind her, both Jolly and I slipped out from underneath the blanket to get dressed back into our clothes. While I was stepping into my vans, I finished the text message I’d been trying to send Jessica for the last few minutes. 

Me: I’ll be there as soon as I can! I’m so sorry I wasn’t near my phone. Any idea what set off the alarm?

Jessica: No idea! We checked every single sensor and door, there should have been no reason for it to go off. Thankfully, Tori and I were still in the parking lot when it went off. We didn’t see anyone. 

“Käraste.” 

Glancing away from my phone, I hummed in response to Jolly who was handing me a sweater. “Take it, it’s cold outside.” 

When I reached for it, he pulled me into his embrace to lay a kiss on my lips. His tongue briefly brushed against my bottom lip before he pulled away. 

“Be careful,” he muttered to them. 

“I will,” with another peck, I stepped away from him to slip on his sweater. 

But before I could leave his bedroom, his fingers wrapped around my elbow to stop me. 

“The next few days I’ll be busy but maybe we can officially go on a date this weekend? Friday night?” 

“I’d like that,” I said with a wide smile but cursed under my breath. “I forgot Friday is my late night at the cafe. Saturday?” 

Jolly’s shoulders fell. “I have this thing for work. But I can bring you dinner Friday if you’d like. Keep you company.” 

My heart fluttered in my chest at the thought of that and I answered with a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’d love that. I’ll text you when I’m back home tonight.” 

With a small wave, I finally slipped through his bedroom door to make my way over to Fika. 

JOLLY

I lounged on my bed with my phone on my chest, aimlessly flipping through the channels, trying to find something to watch on the television. It'd been a long day of media press so I wanted to spend a little while decompressing before heading out to dinner tonight. 

For what seemed like the third time this last minute, I checked my phone to see if Astrid had texted me back. 

She didn’t. 

She hadn’t texted me back in four days. 

And it was all my fault. 

We texted earlier in the week almost non stop when we weren’t busy with work, talking more about our date for Friday. However by Wednesday afternoon, it ceased when I had to cancel because of last minute media press that showed up. With the recent debut of our third album, Bad Omens was one of the most sought after artists for podcasts and interviews. Hence what we’d been doing all weekend long. 

That wasn’t the reason why she stopped talking to you, though. 

Groaning at the thought, I looked back at the text thread between Astrid and I. 

Käraste: Oh, that’s okay. I understand that work comes first. I’m free most nights next week since Jessica is comfortable with closing up the cafe for me. 

Me: I’ll let you know what my schedule looks like. 

Käraste: Okay :)

Read at 3:32 pm on Wednesday. 

Käraste: I made a fresh batch of kanelbullars if you were planning on coming by tonight. 

Read at 5:03 pm on Wednesday. 

Käraste: I thought I’d let you know that I made it home safe and the alarm company fixed the glitch with my system. So finally, it’s all figured out. 

Read at 10:21 pm on Wednesday. 

Me: 👍

Käraste: Not sure if you’re planning on coming in today but I have a lot of office work to get through so if I don’t see you that's why. 

Read at 10:00 a.m. Thursday. 

Käraste: I could always work in your booth, if you don’t mind my company. 

Read at 10:03 a.m. Thursday. 

Then with a shaky breath, I read the last message Astrid sent. 

Käraste: Message loud and clear, Jolly. 

Read at 11:47 p.m. Thursday. 

It was Monday now and I had every intention of replying back to her with my schedule for next week. Y/N mentioned in passing that she and Astrid had been texting and while she was hurt about me canceling our date, she understood why I had too. 

Did she though? You still haven’t told her who you are or what you do. 

The guilt of lying to Astrid and having to cancel ate away at me that it hindered me unable to respond. I found myself deep within my own head on if I’d be enough for her. Especially after our night together, I knew she deserved someone that would be home all the time and not on the road most of the year. 

That night replayed in my mind all the fucking time. All I could think about was the way she felt underneath me, the way she smelled; her scent still lingering on my pillows days after. The way she looked coming apart on my cock was stuck on a loop, so much so that a little while ago I was in the shower with one hand leaning against the wall and the other wrapped around my cock. 

A stern knock echoed in my hotel room and with a sigh, I turned off the television and dragged my feet over to it; already expecting who it was on the other side. 

“You have some explaining to do, Jolly,” Y/N scolded as she pushed her way inside my room, Noah trailing behind with a sorrowful smile. 

“What did I do?” I asked, shutting the door behind them. 

“What did you do?” Her eyes widened before she ran a hand through her brown hair. “Astrid told me you’ve ghosted her?” 

I stuffed my hands in my sweater pocket before falling into my computer chair with a huff of breath. “It’s complicated.” 

“How?” Y/N demanded while tapping her foot on the ground. “Because from the outside looking in, I see someone that was hurt by the choices you made. You hurt her, Jolly. She thinks she did something wrong and pushed you away. ” 

“She didn’t,” I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees. 

Noah sat on the edge of my bed but Y/N instead let out a long sigh before sitting next to him. 

“We know that,” Y/N pointed between her and Noah. “But Astrid feels that since the two of you slept together, you got what you wanted and now you don’t want anything to do with her.” 

“That’s not-,” I began. 

“Hang on,” Noah spoke up for the first time, shaking his head. “You and Astrid slept together?” 

My cock twitched in my sweats when the memory of the two of us tangled in the sheets came to mind. 

“The night of the housewarming party,” I admitted. “How did you know?” 

Y/N shrugged. “Girl talk. She needed someone to confide in and with my own experience, I felt like I could give her the advice she needed.” 

“Your own experience?” Noah raised her brows at her. 

“Ok while I don’t have experience of being ghosted, per say. I do have experience on what happens when you don’t talk about the things bothering you,” she said while rolling her eyes

“I didn’t expect for it to end up like this. But with how busy we’re going to be the next few months, it won't work. This is a perfect example. We have been busy the last few days with media bullshit. Astrid doesn't even know who we are. I had you guys keep Bad Omens a secret from her the night of the party. What kind of relationship starts off with lies?” 

“So you think it’s better to ignore her after having sex with her?” Y/N’s voice was raised. 

I winced at her words. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Jolly, while you didn’t physically leave her to go somewhere, you left her emotionally. You ignored her and expected what? To have a positive outcome?” 

“No,” I shifted in my seat. “I just don’t want to disappoint her with always having to leave for a tour. She’s had a rough life from what she told me. She’s all alone.” 

“Exactly why what you did was a dick move,” Y/N said sternly but then apologized when Noah gave her a look. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Jolly. But can you see it from where Astrid is coming from?” 

“I understand,” I nodded. “It was wrong of me to ignore her the last few days. But I was afraid of not being enough for her; being what she needs.” 

“You’re projecting a feeling that doesn’t even exist,” Noah said.

I snorted. “The two of you see a shrink once a week and all of a sudden you have PHD’s.” 

“We’re just-,” Y/N began while leaning forward. 

I waved her off. “No, I know, I’m sorry. You’re right. The irony of all this. Here I thought I had it all figured out, when I tried pushing the two of you together and now here I am doing the opposite of what I thought.” 

“You’re only human, you know. And that’s okay if you might have not learned from your mistakes.”

“I know. I’m not usually the one that wallows in my mind. I’m the one that helps people out of these situations. So, thank you guys for being here; pulling my head out of my ass.” 

Y/N smiled while resting her head against Noah’s shoulder. “It’s what we’re here for, Jolly. Think of it as returning the favor.” 

Noah left a gentle kiss on top of her head before looking at me. “You should at least call Astrid. Let her know that you’ll explain everything to her, but you just need time because this way of thinking or feeling is new for you.” 

To lighten up the mood a smidge of guilt in her chest. “Calling the kettle black here, it doesn’t have to be complicated. You deserve happiness too Jolly, don’t- don’t do that. Call her.”

I sighed while leaning back in the chair. “What you two did, whatever you went through to get where you are, it’s different. I’m not sure if this, whatever it is, will work. It’s easier for you both because you understand this life, Y/N. I can’t expect Astrid to drop everything like that to come with us, or be with me like that. Fika is her life, she cant leave that behind.” 

“You don’t know that,” Y/N reassured me with a warm smile. 

Noah rubbed her back. “We can’t sit here and say anything that hasn’t already been said. But, if we can say one thing; communicate. Talk with Astrid and tell her the truth. You’ll never know if you don’t. You deserve happiness, just as much as anyone else and I think she really adores you. So just at least if anything, talk to her.”

“Just don’t take 6 months to say something,” Y/N added in with a chuckle. 

I snorted while rising to my feet, going about my room to gather my phone and wallet since we were about to head out to dinner.  “Your telenovela was enough for me. I’ll use my words.” 

“I’m shocked you even pronounced that word so well,” Y/N mocked. 

“Kiss my ass Joakim, we use words,” Noah nudged my shoulder when he stood. 

“Yeah, most of them start with don’t and end with stop,” I shot back with a smirk.

Y/N gasped while smacking the back of my head. “Okay now you’re being an ass for real.” 

“Don’t pry in my love life,” I playfully pushed her. 

“Oh, I see how it is, ” Noah chuckled. 

For the first time in a few days, I felt lighter in my steps and felt as if things would be alright with Astrid and I. Just as soon as I talked to her. Making a mental note to swing by Fika after dinner, I retreated down stairs to the living room where Nicholas and Folio were waiting for us; the five of us meeting the others for dinner. 

“Jolly,” Y/N grasped my wrist to stop me from following everyone outside. “Don’t let your worries ruin this because you deserve happiness too. You do.” 

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders in a hug, pressing a peck to the top of her head. “Thank you, Y/N. But who’s to say she’ll even want to talk to me after how I ignored her.” 

“Don’t start that. I know that kind of thinking all too well. Just go with the flow. Let it happen naturally. You’d be surprised to find out how Astrid feels about you,” she patted my cheek before running to catch up to Noah, jumping onto his back. 

ASTRID

No. 

No. 

No. No. No. 

Glass crunched underneath my boots as I walked farther into Fika, everything in disarray at my feet. Plants overturned with dirt spilled everywhere, glass from the front door shattered into hundreds of little pieces, coffee machines and the turbo ovens were destroyed. The safe in my office was broken into with $5000 missing; I planned on going to the bank tomorrow morning to make the deposit; like I did every Tuesday. 

But through all the destruction, there was only one thing that I was the most upset about. 

My grandfather's guitar. It was stolen. 

I continued to stare up at the guitar wall, four out of the seven guitars missing, and I swallowed the burning tears, refusing not to cry. 

When I got the call at about eleven this evening from the alarm company that yet again it was tripped at Fika, I thought nothing of it so I disarmed it from my phone and took my time getting here. So when I walked into a scene of pure chaos and destruction, immediately my heart sank to my stomach. Someone had broken into Fika by breaked the glass of the door and stepping through it. They trashed the entire place; cups and plates thrown against one of the walls and couches ripped apart by what I assumed was a knife. 

I had been in such a state of shock that I had yet to call the police to report it because as soon as I saw the missing guitar, I became in a catatonic state. The last few days had been incredibly rough with Jolly ignoring me so when I walked into this scene, it was the very last thing I could handle. 

I’d been plagued with the worry that I’d done something wrong to push Jolly away, even saying my thoughts to Y/N. But she tried to reassure me that he didn’t mean to do what he did and I should talk to him about it. 

But the thing was, I did try to talk to him. I continued to text him for days after he canceled our date but even though he never sent a message back, I received it loud and clear; although it didn’t stop me from continuously checking my phone and almost sending a few texts to him. 

The noise of glass crunching caused me to swirl around in defense, holding my breath. However when I saw those dark eyes staring at me with shock, the tears I’d been holding finally broke free. 

“Käraste.” 

I shook my head widely. “N-no.” 

Jolly took a tentative step farther inside, doing his best to step over the destruction at his feet. “What happened?” 

I scoffed and outstretched my hands. “What the fuck does it look like, Jolly? Someone broke in and vandalized the place.” 

“Are you alright?” He asked while reaching for me. 

“Oh, now you give a shit about me? Where the hell have you been the last five fucking days?” I sneered, taking a step away from him. 

“Kär-.” 

“Stop!” I snapped, pointing a finger at him with tears falling. “Stop fucking calling me that. You don’t get that right anymore.”

He scratched at the facial hair on his chin, it was thicker than the last time I saw him, but I tried my best not to fall into his embrace again with one look into his striking eyes. 

“I know. I owe you an explanation,” Jolly ran a hand through his long hair.

I wrapped the sweater tighter around me; his sweater. The one he gave me that night. 

“You don’t owe me anything, Jolly. You made it clear how you felt about me after fucking me.” 

His jaw ticked. “Don’t say it like that, Astrid.” 

“It’s clear that’s the only thing you wanted,” I shrugged. “So now that you got it, you can leave.” 

Turning my back on him, I went to work cleaning up the mess, but when gentle fingers wrapped around my elbow, I ripped myself from his grasp. 

“Don’t touch me,” I seethed with a choked breath. 

The depths of Jolly’s eyes faltered as he gazed over my broken appearance. Hair thrown up into a very messy bun, his gray sweater, bright green sweats that were my pajamas, and my black rain boots; literally rolling out of bed to come here. My tears were red and cheeks blotchy from crying. But I didn’t care how I looked in front of him because my livelihood was destroyed. 

Fika was destroyed. 

Jolly’s eyes glanced away from me up to the guitar wall behind me and I could see the air leave his chest. 

“You’re grandfather’s guitar,” he noted. 

“Yep,” I popped the ‘P’ while kicking a knocked over plant. “Whoever did this also took the bell above the door; the one my grandparents brought over from Sweden.” 

He looked over to the front door, the glass from the panes shattered so the cold air seeped inside, and let out a sigh when he noticed the missing bell above the door. Then when Jolly turned back to me, I quickly averted my gaze to the mess around me. 

“Astrid, please,” Jolly begged. “Let me explain.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “There’s nothing to explain, Jolly. I bore myself to you physically and emotionally that night. I felt betrayed by you!” 

“I didn’t-.” 

“I told you how afraid I was of being alone. You told me that you’d be here for me but you fucking left. You lied,” I blew out a shaky breath while running a hand through my hair. 

“I trusted you and you still hurt me.” 

Jolly went to reach for me again but I smacked his hands away, the sound of skin on skin echoing around us. 

“You need to leave; now,” I motioned to the broken door yet again. “I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

“Astrid-.” 

“GO!” I pushed his chest, tears streaming down my face. “There’s nothing else between us. We fucked and that’s it. You can leave and forget all about me.” 

Jolly grasped my hands on his chest, keeping me close to him. “I don’t want to.” 

“I don’t care, Jolly. How can I trust that you won’t do that again?” I slipped my hands out from his hold and hastily wiped away the tears. 

Even though he looked so inviting dressed in his sweater and sweatpants, I kept myself from not stepping into him and running my hands through the waves of his hair. 

“Please leave,” I sobbed. 

Jolly didn’t move. 

Letting out a frustrated groan, I pushed him again towards the door. “Fuck you! I trusted you.” 

Another push. 

“That’s all you wanted, right? Just sex?” 

Another push. 

“Well congrats. You got it and now you have no other obligation from me, so you can leave!” I cried with the final push out the open door. 

Not once did Jolly fight me, simply letting me get my anger out with my force against his chest. When he was finally back on the sidewalk outside, I slammed the door in his face, which did absolutely nothing since he could walke through the part of the door where the glass had been broken. But it was the sentiment before the slamming of it in his face. 

With my back to him, I ignored him calling after me with my nickname and disappeared into the back area of the cafe to wallow in my miseries before figuring out what the fuck I was going to do now. 

ASTRID

Humming a tune to myself, I tapped the sign to the newly fixed front door and tapped it for good luck. 

Closed for a private party. Will resume normal hours tomorrow. 

I stepped back inside of Fika and gave a small smile to the blonde man as he paused setting up tables to meet me halfway. 

“I really do appreciate you letting us use your place for this, Astrid.” 

I waved Matt off before stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “Oh, don’t even worry about it. I’m glad I’m able to help out for this pop up event. You said it’s for a band you manage?” 

“Yep,” Matt said while adjusting his hat. “They recently released their third album and we wanted to promote it so we invited fans to this event to meet the band, buy some merch, and get a signed poster.” 

“That’s pretty fucking sweet,” I smiled. “Which reminds me, I had my manager Jessica put together a playlist for today. You said the band's name is Bad Omens?” 

He shifted on his feet while clearing his throat. “Yeah.” 

“Perfect, just let us know when you want us to play it and I’ll have it come through the speakers.” 

With a small wave, I missed the look that Matt shared with Bryan, who was also here helping set up, as I met Jessica behind the counter while she adjusted her new nametag to make sure it was perfectly straight. 

Jessica. Manager. 

After the break in a few weeks ago and realizing how much work I’d been putting on my shoulders, I decided that I needed help for the back of house things. With Jessica’s prior experience at management, she was perfect for the job. 

Jessica, Tori, Sean, and I spent a few days putting things back together and replacing what we could in Fika. And once news hit the city that someone had broken in, people donated items or showed up to help fix things that I couldn’t. I remember trying my best not to cry at the sincerity of the people from this small community. Fika opened a week after the break in and business had been insane since.

But when I received an email from Matt last week wondering if he could rent out Fika for a private event, I immediately agreed even though he was friends with Jolly. The money Matt offered to book out the entire cafe was exactly what I needed to build up the savings that were stolen from the safe. 

Jolly. 

I hadn't heard from or seen him since he stopped by that night of the break in and I knew I should have been fine with it since I told him to leave; to never speak to me again. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurting on the inside. 

Jessica, Sean, and Tori often wondered why he stopped showing up and not wanting to go into much detail about what happened between us, I kept my answer simple. 

“He’s busy with other things.”

Other guys tried to flirt when they came in, tried to get my number, but every time I declined and told them I wasn’t interested. Which was true. But another reason was because none of them were Jolly. He was all encompassing, always on my mind even when I forced myself to think of something else; anything else. 

My mind wandered to Jolly and the darkness of his eyes. The way his lips tasted or the way he sounded when I had my mouth wrapped around him. I found myself missing the way he smelled, the way he tasted, and the light that encompassed around him whenever he walked into Fika. My heart yearned to see his smile once more and my soul was desperate for the connection it missed. 

He fucked you then ignored you for five days. 

Yeah but-.

No buts. You told him how afraid you are of being alone and he did the exact same thing.

Deciding not to argue with my thoughts any longer, I forced a smile at Jessica. “How are things going?”

She nodded. “Good. Sean is in your office finishing up the playlist and Tori is helping Matt and Bryan set up.” 

“Perfect. The three of you can head out if you’d like. There’s no need for you guys to be here today.” 

Jessica’s eyes lit up and Tori popped up from the front of the counter. “Wait, really?” 

I chuckled at Tori. “Yeah. It’s a beautiful spring day outside. You guys should go enjoy the rest of your Saturday.” 

Tori and Jessica shared a look before they scurried to the back to gather their things, their giggles echoing far behind them. Shaking my head at them, I decided on running a fresh pot of coffee for Matt and everyone else who was here setting up for this event. Sean came bounding up to the front counter with a wild look in his eyes until they landed on me. 

“Jeez, where’s the fire?” I joked with a hand on my hip. 

“Astrid,” he took a few deep breaths. “I need to tell you something.” 

“Hey, Astrid?” 

Pointing a finger at Sean, I turned around and smiled at Bryan. “Do you guys need something?” 

He adjusted the camera that hung around his neck. “I was going to snap a few shots and wanted to make sure you were ok with it? Since it’s your place.” 

Immediately I nodded. “Definitely. You don’t even have to ask, Bryan. Although, any bad shots you get of me you delete right away.” 

“Deal,” he chuckled. “Is it alright if I get a shot of the guitar wall? The lighting from the sun casting over it looks sick.” 

I nodded again and watched as Bryan walked over to the wall, a stinging pain digging deep into my heart. Over the last few weeks I’d been able to replace all but one of the guitars that was stolen; my grandfathers. So there was still this empty spot still in the middle, like the empty spot in my heart that was left due to Jolly’s absence. 

“Astrid,” Sean urged. “I was looking into this band, Bad Omens. And you’re not going to believe what I found. They’re huge in the rock scene right now; super popular since they released their third album.” 

“Fuck, that reminds me. Can you go hit play on the music? I think they’re going to be here soon and want to make sure it’s perfect,” I said, turning my attention back to the coffee. 

“The members of the band, there’s four of them-,” Sean tried again. 

I tilted my head at him. “I didn’t realize there was going to be a pop quiz about them?” 

He ignored my sarcasm and ran a hand through his bright blonde hair. “The guitarist is-.” 

“Better late than never! Fuck, you do realize that this thing starts in like ten minutes? We have the fans lined up in the back parking lot,” Matt chastised the group of people that just walked through the door; I was still getting used to not hearing the bell go off every time the door opened.

“Look, Sean, you can tell me all about them later. But I have to get to work. Go enjoy the rest of your Saturday,” I tapped his shoulder, dismissing him. 

His eyes darted to the group gathering in the dining area and with a sigh, Sean nodded before retreating to the back. 

As the conversations were hushed over the music that began to play, I moved along to the lyrics, finding myself drowning under the hypnotizing spell of the voice from the vocalist of Bad Omens. I set up a row of paper cups and with the pot of fresh, hot coffee, I turned on my heels ready to offer everyone some but froze in place with what I saw. 

Noah. 

Nicholas. 

Folio. 

The three of them were gazing at how everything was set up, smiling with pride. But none of them had my attention, it was the man that stood directly on the other side of the counter in front of me. His long hair was pulled back in a tight bun, those dark eyes and sharp cheekbones on display. The faint nose ring caught the overhead light and I bit my lip at how gorgeous he looked. 

“Käraste.” 

I blinked, breaking free from Jolly’s spellbinding gaze and glanced over to where everyone else was watching us. Next to the table where Bad Omens would be sitting was a large banner behind them that had a picture of all four of them. My mouth ran dry as I continued to bounce my eyes back from Jolly to the large banner, my brain slow to catch up that he was part of this band, along with his friends. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I spat with furry. 

My grip around the pot of coffee slipped causing the burning liquid to spill on my hand before crashing to the ground. 

Glass shattered and I hissed out in plain while clutching my hand to my chest, quickly scurrying to the back in such a haste. Tears brimmed at my eyes for not only the pain but also seeing Jolly again, finding out that he was part of this band. A pretty popular one according to Sean yet I had never even heard of them. 

Had they all lied to me about who they were when I went to their party? 

Well, technically you never asked what any of them did.

Ripping open the freezer door with force it slammed against the wall, I rummaged around for an ice pack to apply to my hand.

“Astrid?” 

“No! No!” I spun on my heels to face Jolly and dropped the ice pack in the process. “I don’t want to see you.”

“You hurt yourself. Let me help you,” Jolly’s comforting voice carried in waves as he stepped farther into the back area of the cafe as I fell onto the stool that was in the break area. 

I wanted to cry so fucking bad because of the pain in my head, it red and angry because of the burn, but I refrained. I couldn’t.

“I don’t need your help, Jolly. Please. I’m still upset with everything and now finding out about-,” the words died on my tongue when my bottom lip trembled. 

“I know.” He bent down to pick up the ice back and a towel from the rack, wrapping it up. 

Slowly, almost afraid to push me farther off the edge, Jolly closed the distance between us. Then he reached for my hand, calloused fingers turning it over to inspect the burn. I was in too much pain to fight him and frankly, exhausted from arguing with him. 

I missed him. His presence. His aura. His smile. The way the room lit up when he stepped in it. The positive aspect he had on everything. 

But I was still upset with him. 

I hissed in agony when he gently pressed the ice pack to the burn but grumbled a thank you under my breath. Silence fell between us for a long moment and I kept my gaze straight past him at the door that blocked us from everyone up front. 

“I know you’re surprised, and unhappy to see me here today,” Jolly’s voice broke through the tension.

“Understatement of the fucking century,” I snorted while bouncing my knee up and down. 

He sighed while setting the ice pack down on the table next to me. When I realized he was looking around for something, I pointed to the rack of shelves behind him. “First aid kit is on the third shelf. Burn spray, ointment, and wrap should all be in there.” 

I was glued to his form as he closed the distance with two wide strides to do his long legs and I couldn’t stop the way my bottom lip caught between my teeth when I realized how perfect his shirt hugged the muscles in his back or the way his jeans fit the perfect curve of his ass. 

Focus, Astrid. You’re supposed to be pissed at him. 

Jolly set the first aid kit on the table and began rummaging through it to find what he needed to wrap up my burn. Once he applied the spay, his warm breath fanned over my skin and I shivered at the feeling. 

“Can I explain everything?” He asked as he began wrapping my hand, after applying the ointment.

I kept my gaze on my feet. “What’s there to say, Jolly? You were pretty clear when you ignored me.” 

“And that was a mistake.” 

I sniffled. “Ignoring me or having sex with me because it feels like the entire thing was a mistake.” 

Once my hand was wrapped, Jolly cupped my face so I had no choice but to look up at him. “No. Ignoring you was a mistake and I’m very sorry. When I had to cancel our date for work, I felt so guilty because I knew with my career that it won’t be the last time that happens.”

“Why did you?” I asked, meek and quiet. 

“Well as you see out there,” he threw his thumb in the direction back outfront. “I'm the guitarist in Bad Omens and with how often I’m gone on the road touring or doing media, I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” I held my injured hand closer to my chest in a way to protect myself from Jolly. 

I couldn’t allow myself to open up to him again if his intentions weren’t pure. 

He hesitated while holding his breath before letting it out and running a hand over the thick hair on his chin. “Well, these things-romance. They can be complicated for people like me. I didn’t want to start something and then have you find out I won’t always be around.”  

“Jolly, you could have just talked to me. I would have understood,” I said. 

The corner of his mouth lifted as he chuckled, his hands now grazing up and down my arms. “I know, you’re right. I should have. I’m sorry, I never meant to ignore you. It was wrong of me to do.” 

“If you talked to me about it, be honest with me, we could have figured out the logistics of us later on. You didn’t have to hide who you were from me. I would have still fallen for you just the same,” I admitted. 

It was true. 

Now knowing that he played guitar in one of Los Angeles’ most popular bands, I didn’t think differently about him. My heart still beat wideley in my chest as his dark ember eyes drank me in. 

Jolly brushed a few strands of hair away from my face, fingers lingering on the side of my neck. “I liked being Joakim for a little while, not Jolly from Bad Omens.” 

“You’re still Joakim to me.” 

He smiled then lifted my injured hand. “How does it feel?” 

“It’s better than what it was. Thank you,” I did my best to smile despite the pain. 

Moments before he dropped my hand back in my lap, he pressed featherlike kisses across the bandage and I sucked in a breath, his name falling from my lips.

“I hope you can forgive me, Astrid. That night was special, it was one of the best nights I’ve had in a very long time. Being with you has been a breath of fresh air that I didn’t know I was looking for.”  

“It was for me too,” I bit my lip. “ I-I forgive you.” 

“Really?” Jolly eyes snapped up from the ground, full of light and hope.

I wrapped my good arm around him while opening my legs so he could step between them as I was still sitting on the stool. Almost quickly, his hands clasped around the back of my neck. 

“I’m fine with figuring things out as we go, Jolly. But, please don’t hurt me like this again. Just talk to me,” I rested my chin on his chest to peer up at him through my lashes.

“I can do that. I swear I can,” he brushed his lips over my forehead in a kiss. “Thank you, käraste.” 

Stepping up to close the distance, I pressed my mouth to his and breathed in content as the feeling of finally being home crept deep into my blood. I missed him so much, more than I’d ever admit. Yes, he may have hurt me but he apologized and proved that he was willing to change. 

We’ve all made mistakes but our mistakes didn’t make us. 

Jolly’s tongue brushed along my bottom lip before meeting mine in a lazily fight for dominance, one I was quick to win; not that he was complaining. He hummed into the kiss and his large hands skidded underneath my shirt to set the skin of my back a blaze. 

“Astrid?” 

Swiftly pulling away from Jolly, I wiped my mouth before glancing over to Noah, who was resting against the wall next to the door with a smug smile. 

“I see the two of you made up.” 

Giggling, I buried my face into Jolly’s chest to breathe him in, his voice vibrating against my cheek. 

“Do you need something, Noah?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry to kill the mood but the police are here. They want to speak with Astrid.”

Jolly tilted his head down towards me. “The police?” 

I nodded with a sigh. “I filed a police report because of the break in. I wonder if they finally have some news for me.” 

With a kiss to my cheek, he let me jump off the stool and hooked his fingers with my good hand as we made our way back up front; not before Noah ruffled Jolly’s hair as we walked past. 

Two officers were excitedly chatting with Nicholas and Folio when I walked up but turned serious when they saw me. 

“Astrid Akerman?” The taller office asked. 

I nodded while still holding onto Jolly’s hand. “Yes?” 

The bald officer spoke next. “We just wanted to stop in to tell you we found the group of kids that broke in here a few weeks ago. Turns out they trashed a few other places around here the last couple of months. We were able to arrest them last night as they tried to break into the therapist office next door and we found the items you claimed were stolen.” 

My heart leaped into my throat. “Wait, does that mean you found my grandfather's guitar?” 

The taller office points to the table behind us where there lay my grandfather’s blue Teisco Del Rey ET-312. Choking on a sob, Jolly went about thanking the officers while I hastily reached for the guitar, afraid it would slip through my fingers. 

“Astrid,” Jolly’s fingers grazed over my lower back. “Do you want me to hang it back up?” 

With tears in my eyes, I nodded. “Please. It hasn’t felt like Fika without it.” 

Standing in between Noah and Nicholas, I grinned watching Jolly as he stood on a chair with Bryan’s help to hang the guitar back on the wall. Once he was back on his feet, he pulled me back into his arms and I swung on my feet with him. 

“Thank you,” I pressed a kiss to his chest. 

“Anything for you, käraste.” Jolly breathed me in. 

When I first took over Fika months ago, I had every intention of selling. That was until one of my regulars not only changed my mind but also changed the trajectory of my entire life. 

“Jeez, the crowd out there is insane!” 

Spinning in Jolly’s grasp, I beamed at Y/N as she stepped inside, the ends of her olive green sundress trailing at her feet. She took one look at Jolly and I before breaking out in a wide smile. 

“Well, this is a sight to see.” 

Rolling my eyes at her, I stepped up on the tips of my toes to leave a tender kiss on Jolly’s cheek. “I’ll give you guys a few minutes to get settled before opening the side door for your fans.” 

He gently patted my ass to dismiss me and I squealed before walking over to Y/N, hooking my arm through hers after she greeted Noah with a kiss. 

“Would you like some mochis?” I asked. 

Her eyes widened with a bright gleam. “Yes please.” 

[dinsdjrn]

everything i wanted | j. miller | track two

track one | track three | masterlist

bodyguard!joel AU

AU!Joel x singer!f!reader

summary: I'm scared to death I'll scream your name and still there's not a thing I would change. That's okay, but I think about it. rejection never gets any easier, but we all find ways to move on. [w.c: 4.4k]

tags for the series: 18+, minors DNI, angst/fluff/eventual smut, sarah's dead (plot), ellie is alive, parental manipulation/abuse (maternal) (reader is in a classic love bombing abuse cycle please note the mother is not redeemable), depression, drug and alcohol use, sobriety, stalker behaviour from a fan, will update as i go, this ones gonna get dark but it will have the happy feel good too! as always if anything is missing tell me and i will add it!

a/n: i am back from vacation and ready to write the days away. this one is for @tightjeansjavi who keeps me going and reminds me not to quit.

track two - think about it

It always felt weird to record a song that struck a chord close to your heart. You were pulling on the most exhausting day of your life, and it wasn’t even entirely yours anymore. It had been polished and produced into something you recognized, but not something you knew and understood. It was a frustrating, but undeniably, good song. It held some of the grit you craved, whilst keeping the image that was carefully curated for you.

Overall it had been a successful morning in the studio and your complaints were for you to bury alone. When everyone had taken a break to grab a coffee and come back with fresh ideas, you stayed behind to send a small clip to your parents. 

[Audio Message]

Finally a complete song for the deluxe!! Can’t wait for you to hear the rest :) 

Your dad loved the message, all you got back from your mom was a ‘Call me’. 

You sighed making your way out into the hallway where there would be better reception. To no surprise Joel was just outside the door of the studio waiting. 

“I’m just making a call, uh, to my mom,” you said, not entirely sure why you explained it to him. 

“Do you want some privacy?” He asked. 

“Oh, oh no, it won’t be long. Sorry, I just didn’t know-“ you rambled, cut off by your phone buzzing in your hand. You swiped to answer it, now flustered from the most meaningless interaction with Joel.

“Hey Mom, How’d you like the clip?” You asked excitedly. 

You slowly sat down on the floor across the hallway from Joel. 

It was something that could go either way, but you were hopeful your excitement would deter a rude remark. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She spat. 

“What?” Your voice dropped, clearly defeated. 

Joel looked at you perplexed. You just rolled your eyes and sighed. 

“This isn’t a hit for the deluxe! Telling your fans you hate them is no way to make people WANT to listen to you,” She exploded, completely missing the point of the song. 

“Well you’ve just heard a bit, it’s about more than that.”

“It’s not what it’s about, it’s how it’s perceived.” She was condescending. 

“Okay, sorry mom.” Your voice broke.

“Well don’t make me out to be the bad guy, you asked for my opinion. At the end of the day it’s your album and whether you sink or swim is up to you,” Her tone was sharp and quick. It dug into your mind in a way only she knew how to do. 

You weren’t sure why you put up with her anymore, maybe you felt guilty, maybe she is just under a lot of stress, maybe, maybe, maybe…

“No, you’re right,” you sighed wiping tears away, “We’ll work on it.” 

“Love to hear it sweetie. The next one will be it I’m sure!” Her tone changed again, giving you emotional whiplash. 

“I have to go, the studio is going back in.” You lied.

“Go on! Make a hit! I miss you!” She promptly hung up before you could reply. 

As the call disconnected you felt the tears welling in your eyes spill over. Her words didn’t hurt you like they used to, they frustrated you to no end. 

“Fuck,” you whispered. 

You weren’t paying super close attention to your surroundings, but you felt a presence sit next to you on the floor. 

“Hey, hey, it will be okay,” it was Joel talking to you, comforting you. 

“I’m sorry, she is just so fucking frustrating,” you leaned your head back against the wall. 

This was so beyond what you’d ever expect of him, but it was comforting nonetheless. Your heart swelled at the sentiment. You weren’t one to really crush on anyone, but Joel had this gravity to him that pulled you in. 

“You’re okay, she has no idea how amazing it is,” he continued softly.  

“What?” You asked, confused at this new softer side of Joel. 

“The song, it’s great. I know people are going to love it.” He offered a small smile.

“We won’t know until it’s out there,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Well I know, for a fact, one fourteen year old girl is going to love it,” He continued, “Hell I’ll probably hear it so much I’d pay you to take it off the album for me.” 

You offered a sympathetic laugh for his attempt at a joke. 

“Ellie?” You asked. 

“Yeah, the kid loves you, it didn’t connect until well… we got here.” 

“What made you finally recognize my music?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“The album on the wall, I’m pretty sure we have it on vinyl. And I’m fairly certain that vinyl rarely leaves the record player.” He rolled his eyes, they were softer than normal. 

You weren’t sure if it was out of sympathy for your pathetic display, or fondness for discussing his daughter. Either way you liked this side of Joel, it tugged at your heart. His complexities making your mind wander, you want to see him, really know him. 

“Well, she is welcome here anytime,” you said. 

You placed a hand on his crossed arms, it sent a chill down your arm and spine. Just a touch sent you into a frenzy. Your hand lingered and the silence drew on for just a moment longer than it needed to. Joel cleared his throat and it brought you back. 

“Thanks, uh, yeah thank you,” he turned away from you standing up. 

You had stopped crying and stood up to meet Joel. 

“Thanks, for being there. Well, and boosting my ego,” You smiled making your way to the door behind him. 

“Anytime,” he said with some southern drawl. 

You didn’t spend much more time in the studio that day. Your head wasn’t in it anymore and everyone could tell. You also had drinks with James to get ready for. Once everyone called it an early day you headed home to change and get ready for a night out. He didn’t say anything the entire way home, just like the day before. Joel followed, he kept his distance, staying in the common spaces looking somehow both devastating and intimidating. 

“Joel,” you breathed, dizzy and giddy from the atmosphere and the alcohol in your system. 

When you had agreed to go out, you only committed to one drink. Then one drink turned to four, and pounding back drink after drink made the world fade away. The booth gossip no longer interested you, you took James by the hand and made your way to the dance floor, Joel following suit. 

“We should get you home,” he stated, attempting to shuffle you back to the table. 

“This could be fun, if you let it! We could make the most of a bad situation!” You threw your head back and laughed. 

You brushed your hand against his arm. This was bold and unlike you in all aspects, but you were letting go. Letting go of the past 3 days, letting go of the past 5 years, letting go of every rational thought you’ve ever had. 

“No, you don’t know me. You’re drunk. I’m here to do a job, nothing more, nothing less.” He pulled away from you and forced you back to the table. 

“Joel, you don’t understand. I haven’t felt like this for anyone in a long time and you have to tell me you feel it too.” Your tone growing serious, accusatory.

What he said next sent an arrow straight through your soul. It was sobering and rejection hadn’t hit this hard in a long time. 

“I don’t, there is nothing between us. If you got caught up with me that quickly you’ll get over it twice as fast.”

His words winded you, you were too drunk to read him, but you tried. There was no sense of regret, mistruth, no sense of anything really. He was cold as the moment you met and it was harrowing. You’re sure if you were sober you’d see nothing but a cold, uncaring man. 

You had never felt a pull like this from anyone, and in the short time you’d known one another you desperately wanted to believe he felt it too. That’s all it was though, desperation. The first person in so long that made you believe that they might care about you, even if it was just for a paycheck. In less than three days he had treated you like more of a human than half the people you had met in the last five years. 

“Take me home, now.” You whispered. Unable to look him in the eye.

So he did, like any security detail would, he got you into the car with minimal disruption from paps. Not a word was spoken between you, the silence warped to your despair. Being turned down so blatantly was something you were used to from labels, but never like this. Never with someone you felt such a connection to so quickly. 

In the car your phone buzzed, you thought it was James asking where you went. It came from an unknown number. 

You can leave, but I will always follow…

It was definitely from the same person, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This was your secret to keep. You didn’t want to come off as overly dramatic as your mother had previously accused you of doing. So you deleted the message and moved on, it wasn’t like it was a note at your door. 

When you got back to the apartment you made your way to your room without a word, stumbling down the hall. You didn’t want to cry, not for this. You wanted to sleep and hoped that this night would become a hazy memory, bound to your drunkenness like a secret. 

You stared at the bathroom mirror hoping that at the very least you could harness this feeling into capital. The thought made your palms clench and chest tight, you felt like you were suffocating. It sent you into a spiral you hadn’t felt in a long time, the fear of failing, not being good enough overwhelming you. This album was eating you alive and all around you you were surrounded by rejection, from Joel, from your mother, from your label; every direction pulled your head below the water in a new way. 

You hadn’t had a panic attack in years. You reached in the cabinet for your meds, you hadn’t needed them in so long, but as the tension in your chest began to build you felt yourself slowly losing control. 

Gripping the counter you let this feeling fester until it slowly passed. All you were left with was the fading buzz of the drinks in your system becoming a sleepy haze you were sure to regret in the morning. 

The next morning, the night before wasn’t brought up. It was almost unnerving how cold Joel was toward you but somehow he came off as indifferent. You knew any trust or relationship you had built was officially gone. Nothing left but ruins in your wake. 

By noon, he was gone and his relief Will Jones had arrived. Will was an older gentleman who clearly kept up with himself over the years. He was warmer than Joel and would make conversation the same way you’d make it with your dad. You knew you’d get along fine, but he also wasn’t Joel. 

You weren’t too keen on conversation, somewhere between the dull ache in your chest and your hangover you’d forgotten

your kindness. So Jones gave you your space and you worked on your music. 

And that’s how it went… for three weeks you’d rotate between Joel and Will. Not saying much to either of them. Wake up, go to the studio, get nothing done, go out and forget your frustrations, and repeat. Three weeks of failure in the day forgotten with a bender in the night. 

Texts would come through, always from a different number. Always along the lines of missing you and loving you, never threatening you. You never thought much of them and always kept them to yourself deleting them soon after they came in. 

You were falling apart and didn’t think anyone was going to notice. No one ever had before and there wasn’t anyone close enough to you to care. 

You felt stuck creatively, nothing you were making was impressing producers enough. You felt stuck personally, forever between a rock and a hard place. Your mother berating you for coming up with nothing, receiving a cold shoulder from Joel who you had only grown more fond of, feeling so isolated and alone even though this is what you’ve always dreamed of. You should be grateful for everything you have, but it came at the expense of your soul. 

It had been a particularly bad night for you, Will was with you tonight and you had gotten particularly clobbered. It was messy and no one was brave enough to stop you. You felt the eyes and phones on you and it was the moment you knew this was going to be a mess your team would have to clean up. Your carefully curated image of a humble small town artist was being thrown out the window. Just one night where the eyes at the bar looked a little too closely, they found out a little too much about you. It would all come crashing down in just a few short hours. 

“Get me out of here,” You said to Will, pulling on his sleeve like a toddler.

“Let’s go,” He quickly shuffled you out of the bar and to a car that was waiting outside.

The paparazzi were insane this time around and you had never felt so scared. The word must’ve already been out where you were and everyone wanted the shot that would destroy your image. It was worth so much more than a photo of you leaving the studio, or on a pre planned date with another emerging artist. 

The flashes made you nauseous and the banging on the windows and shouting from outside the vehicle had installed a new type of fear and anxiety within you. You clenched your fists and loved your eyes solely focusing on your breathing and heart rate. It was hard to focus in with all the noise around you and you knew that if their cameras got the shot it was going to be messy but you had to calm down. 

Eventually your car had made it through the mob of people and back to your apartment. You needed to collapse in bed, just sleep and forget everything. As soon as you came through the door you made your way to bed, fully clothed, make-up on, and began scrolling through twitter. Of course there were photos of you from tonight that had begun circling. TMZ was already spinning a story about how you had flown off the handle, with a full segment to come in the morning. Daily Mail had jumped on an article too in the forty minutes it took you to get home. 

Just like that it had all come crashing down so fast. Maybe it was the attention you had wanted, maybe not. Something about having your image fall apart and the world watching you come undone was cathartic and yet you didn’t feel any better. You knew you were making a mess for someone else to clean up. You were still buzzed beyond your capacity to form a coherent thought about the repercussions you would face. You knew what was to come and yet, in your state, couldn’t bring yourself to care. So in the most pathetic attempt to make the pain go away, you fell asleep.

Someone had woken you up the next morning, it didn’t feel like you had slept for very long. It could also be that you had slept a long time, you were just hungover. You rubbed your eyes which had felt extremely dry, and when you looked at your hands the black smears of mascara reminded you of the night before. You had fallen asleep without even making an attempt at getting ready for bed. You had never felt so disgusting, you’re sure you were a pitiful sight. 

“What time is it?” You croaked. 

“It’s nine in the morning.” A voice you hadn’t expected said. 

“Mom?” You questioned fully opening your eyes and looking at where the voice had come from. 

There she was in the flesh. She looked as if she had just walked off the page of a magazine, not a single piece out of place. 

“What are you doing here?” You sat up and questioned. Your head was pounding and you struggled to put the pieces of why she would show up unannounced together. 

“I flew out as soon as I saw what was going on on twitter,” She started, “And I’m glad I did. This was the first thing I saw when I landed this morning.” 

She stood and stalked toward you dropping a tabloid paper on the end of your bed. 

There you were in all your drunken glory, right on the front page, trying to escape the bar the night before. You flip to the article which basically called you out for cracking under the pressure of fame. Maybe they were right, you had reached your tipping point of rejection. 

You couldn’t stop what came next, but everything just came crashing down. And as if you were a kid again your mom came to your side and wrapped herself around you. 

She whispered that it would be okay, and how proud she was of you and for a moment you believed her. It didn’t matter what her motives were, whether or not she just wanted you back in the studio. It was nice to feel like someone cared, you’d been so surrounded by ghosts who didn’t give a shit about you to sit and be held and be told your love was enough to forgive her all over again. These were the tender moments you clung to for dear life. Without them there would be no one left to care about you, and you would fade away.

“Come on, let’s get you ready to go,” she said when you had started to calm down. 

There it was, she wanted you back into the studio to capitalize on this. For the moment you could forget about that though, because at least she was here, at least she cared. 

Within the hour you had made it to the studio and started tweaking some of the songs you had worked on before. Your mom had made herself brief and was on the next flight back to New York. Her work was done and you had been put on a strict studio to home lockdown by your team. It was for the best. 

The morning in the studio had been weird, Will and Joel were supposed to switch off today and as the day grew later you wondered if Joel had finally thrown in the towel. Just as your mind got away from you  he came in flustered with a kid in tow. 

“Thanks for covering for me man,” He said to Will.

He turned to you and looked apologetic, “Is it okay if Ellie sticks around today? She got into trouble at school and my brother was already at work, no one was available to watch the kid this short notice?” 

“Oh yeah, of course!” You smiled and said a little too cheer-y.

Joel looked at you for a second longer than comfortable and his eyes grew softer. He was reading you like a book. You’re sure you didn’t look great but no one had made a note of how miserable you looked. 

“Thanks,” he stepped toward you. 

“You alright?” He spoke softly, looking directly at you. 

You melted away at his concern, you felt like you were the only person in the world. His features grew soft just for you and all the feelings you tried so hard to get rid of had pushed their way to the surface again. 

“Yeah, I will be,” And just for a second you believed it. 

Your focus came back to the room and the young girl shifted behind Joel. 

“Hi! Ellie, so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” you stood and made your way to her. 

Ellie then smiled so big and beamed your way. You pulled her into a hug and she reciprocated. When you pulled away you could tell she was just buzzing. 

“I’m such a huge fan,” She said. 

“So I’ve heard. I hear you’re also quite the guitar player?” You looked at Joel who was smiling fondly at the interaction between the two of you. 

“I’m alright,” She said shyly. 

“Well, I have a song I need some help with so let’s see what you’ve got?” 

You and Ellie took a seat on the couch, you were excited to introduce someone to this world. You always felt like the one who knew the least but you could see the light and excitement in her eyes. 

“So I usually try to tell a story, pull from hardships in my life,” you explained. 

“Oh,” Ellie said and shifted a bit uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to though? Is there anything you feel you want to get out in the world?” You asked. 

“Well,” Ellie hesitated, “I guess there is one thing, that’s kinda bugging me.” 

“Okay?” you pressed. 

“See, there’s this, uh, girl. She isn’t out yet but we were together for a bit.. and uh, well she ended things but I still have feelings for her.” Ellie’s demeanor changed and became disheartened. 

“Wait, I actually think I have something you might be able to help me finish,” you said frantically digging in your bag for your notebook. 

And that’s how it started. You and Ellie spent the day writing a melancholy love song together. Little did she know the piece you had written was for her father. 

The song spoke of the one person who could derail your whole life if they wanted and you had so much fun writing and recording with Ellie. She even helped with the harmonies and the production. It was a great song and throughout the whole process you and Joel shared knowing looks with one another. For a moment there was a sense of understanding and forgiveness between you.

You wanted to grip onto this moment and never let it go. Forget all the scandal, the fear, the things that got you into this position and just hold onto the feeling of understanding between you, Ellie and Joel. 

All good things must come to an end though, as Ellie left with her uncle so did the warmth that Joel carried. You felt as if you were back at square one and there was nothing you could do about it. 

The drive home was quiet and uncomfortable as it had been the night he turned you down, but you couldn’t figure out why. 

When you returned to the apartment it was so quiet. You and Joel hadn’t spoken much in the last three weeks but this silence was deafening. There was so much you both wanted to say but neither of you could find the words. 

“Goodnight, Joel,” You said quietly, getting ready to take your leave. 

“Y’know I saw the pictures from last night?” He said and you were taken aback. 

“I’m sorry?” You tensed, not needing a reminder of your downfall. 

“I saw them all, you dancing with those random guys. Shit faced beyond yourself. I couldn’t help but blame myself,” He looked at his feet. 

“Joel it’s not your-“

“I lied to you,” he cut you off.

“Oh?” 

“Three weeks ago, I lied to you and told you I didn’t feel anything. I don’t know if you were being truthful or if you were just drunk, but I felt that connection too.” He admitted.

You were left speechless. 

“I lied because I have a job to do, and I have to keep you safe. I couldn’t risk that for what I thought was just a fleeting moment of attraction. Seeing you last night though? That nearly killed me. I wanted to rip their damn heads off, the men, the paps, all of them.”

He sighed and continued, “I care about you, I care about the way you feel. I want to know you, I want you to care about me and that’s fucking terrifying.” 

“Joel,” you said barely above a whisper, not sure what to believe. 

You hadn’t realized it but he had made his way to you, and once you noticed his presence was suffocating. 

“I want to keep you safe. After seeing you with Ellie today I don’t want to wonder what could have been. I need to know.” He looked right at you, moving a piece of hair away from your face. Gently cupping your cheek. 

“Joel, I’m a mess.” You turned away from him. “The whole reason you’re here is fucked up, and I clearly am not one to handle things well. I’m so fucking scared and I-“ 

Before you could continue his lips found yours and you were pulled into an all encapsulating kiss. The way his lips moved against yours was like a man starved. It was delicate but desperate all the same. You sighed against him and he wrapped his hand around your waist gripping you close. It said everything you couldn’t say to one another. Nothing had ever felt more right and for the first time in so long you had felt safe, like everything was going to be ok. 

When you finally pulled apart his hand lingered on your waist and you knew there would be so much to discuss in the days to come. Now was not the time though, the what ifs, and logistics could come later. For now you were wrapped in the bliss of the truth, the safety of your apartment, and the idea that this moment was just for you. 

“Goodnight, Joel,” you smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he said and released his hands from your waist. 

You were on cloud nine as you got ready for bed, tired from the emotions of the day and still nursing a wicked hangover. 

Just as you were getting ready for bed another text from an unknown number came through. Your heart stopped and elation came crashing down. 

How could you? 

tags: @pedgeitopascal @morning-star-joy @canseethebrushstrokes @skysmiller @contemplatingchemtrails @kyloispunk @skythighs @reader-without-a-story @aryastark-baratheon @thetriumphantpanda @ilovepedro @beskarandblasters @joelsversion once again i am horrid at tag lists but happy to make an attempt at adding u <3

[deanmekel]

The house

Some days it feels like I am living in a house that is not mine

Like maybe I have rented it from a woman who has lived here for years

She might have the keys to the front door

And in the hallway she puts her coat on the coatrack next to all her other jackets every day when she comes home

 

In the living room, she might’ve put a grey couch in front of tv, with light pink blankets on it and soft cushions to fall into

Maybe I can find books on the shelves, that I have never read but that she knows well and picture frames I might see to be  empty

The houseplants here might be thriving and i’m scared they would die if I have to remember to water them

 

In the kitchen, I might find an oven that I think will blow up if I press the wrong button and a coffee machine but I do not know how it works for I don’t even drink coffee 

And if I open up the fridge, it will be filled with food I do not know how to prepare that might even be out of date

 

Through the window, I might look out in to a garden that she paved with stones

When my favourites are always overgrown

I think she only puts the patio chairs out in summer

Of all the potted plants I might only know the name of one

And when I might look further maybe I will realise she does not have a shed

 

And then if I were to go up the stairs

I might feel the grey carpet under my socks

I wonder what she would do if I spilled a drink here

Or if she can run up them without slipping for I am certain I would

 

Upstairs I might find the bathroom tiled white just like every other

Maybe I could still smell her perfume there

I wonder if she keeps her make-up in the drawer under sink

And maybe her shampoo has the scent of rosemary, a scent that I cannot stand

 

In the bedroom I would find myself last

Her sheets might be adorned with roses

Maybe there would be a photograph of a city I do not know above her bed

I might still find her clothes in the wardrobe and maybe some would fit me but I know most would be too tight on my body

 

I am thinking of selling this house to someone who might like it more

I would put a sign up in the front yard

But then again, is it really mine to sell?

I think I could change it tho

 

I would paint the walls a different colour,

Buy a new couch

The houseplants I would try to keep alive

The coffee machine is the first thing to be sold and replaced with a kettle

I will take all the stones out of the garden and throw seeds all around

I will rip the carpet from the stairs and empty the bathroom drawer

The picture above the bed would be a painting of a mountain in scotland

The wardrobe would now house woollen  sweaters and linnen shirts

 

This is what I would do if I knew the right people

If I had the rights to the house

If tomorrow I would find out she had gone and finally left everything to me

[holly-louisexox]

Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 10

Masterlist

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed.

Not my GIF

"Fuck, it wasn't some sort of weird dream." Delia mutters as she rubs her eyes free from sleep.

"Good morning to you too, I'm flattered you'd even consider dreaming about me." Andy replies in his signature monotone voice as he refuses to look up from his laptop he was currently sat on the sofa with- either this guy was not a morning person or he was pissed with Delia about the events of last night; her money was on the second one.

"Did you miss the part where I said weird?" Delia snaps back- Delia definitely was not a morning person for a good half an hour after waking up or before having a coffee, safe to say she was not in the right headspace for Andy and his bullshit moods at this present time.

"Oh sorry princess, didn't realise you were such a diva in the mornings." Andy rolls his eyes as he finally looks up at her. "If you're hanging that badly may I suggest some painkillers, rather than taking out your bad life choices on everyone and everything today?"

"Believe it or not I actually don't get hangovers so bad luck on that one mate." Delia shakes her head at him before climbing out of the bed and grabbing her dress she had folded up on the back of the sofa.

"Don't call me 'mate', we're far fucking from it." Andy snarls slightly which makes Delia roll her eyes this time.

"It's called sarcasm, thought you would have known a lot about that." Delia snaps back before retreating to the bathroom in Andy's hotel room to change, why did he have to be so infuriating this early in the day?

"funny." Andy mutters under his breath as he closes his laptop before sighing- why did last night have to happen? As much as Andy wouldn't admit it, he did kind of enjoy Delia's company and damn did she look good wearing his shirt. Andy hated that he found particular interest in Delia from her not being scared to stand up to him; most people just either walked away or ignored him and he had gotten used to that over time.

"Right, well here's your shirt, thanks for it I guess." Delia shows no emotion as she tosses it at him before leaving to go to Shevy's room to collect her room key, hopefully Shevy was awake by now.

"Delia..." Andy starts before catching himself out. "Actually, never mind."

Rolling her eyes, Delia proceeds to leave, careful not to slam the door behind her.

"Wait, Delia? You and Andy?" Lonny is then stood awkwardly in the hallway after just leaving his room.

"Oh god, Lon, no. No way!" Delia smiles awkwardly. "I left my key in Shevy's bag so I crashed in Andy's room, nothing happened. between us, I promise."

"Right, okay. Well, erm, just be careful with him I guess. He's kind of got a bit of a track record for himself going when it comes to hook ups." Lonny continues to stand awkwardly whilst also wanting to look out for his most recent friend.

"Yeah, I've been told, but thanks Lon." Delia nods awkwardly before going over to Shevy's door and knocking.

"There you are! I text you so many times last night when I got back and realised I still had your key! Did you manage to get another key? What happened?" Shevy mumbles slightly yet her normal excitement in her voice was still very evident.

"I'm fine, I crashed in Andy's room last night." Delia shrugs slightly hoping that Shevy would not make a big deal of it.

"Okay, this seems really interesting and I feel like you have gossip to spill, but I am rather hungover right now. You need to change, I need to change, meet me out here in about an hour and we're gonna go get coffees and you need to tell me the details." Shevy plans which makes Delia laugh slightly; Shevy tends to talk with her hands a lot and in that one short plan there was a lot of pointing here, there and everywhere.

"Can I have my key first?" Delia asks reminding Shevy that she cannot change yet as she was still locked out of her own room.

"Oh shit, yeah, I forgot!" Shevy laughs at herself slightly before going back into her room to retrieve the key for Delia.

------------

"Okay so what happened last night? Did you and Andy sleep together?" Shevy asks before taking a sip of her coffee.

"No I did not have sex with him, why does everyone think that?" Delia sighs.

"Sorry, force of habit when it comes to talking about Andy, he's very much that type of guy." Shevy explains apologetically.

"So I've been told." Delia sighs again tightly holding onto her cup of coffee out of nerves. Why was she so nervous about this conversation? It's not like anything bad happened.

"So what did happen then? I feel that something did happen from the way you're acting right now." Shevy smirks slightly.

"It was weird Shev, last night he was actually really nice; a side of him I never thought I'd see." Delia explains calmly; maybe Shevy would be happy with the simple details?

"Oh yeah? What did he do? It's been a while since I saw 'nice' Andy." Shevy grins, she was definitely getting an idea pop into her head.

"He just seemed genuinely worried about me and seemed like he actually wanted to make sure I was safe." Delia then takes a deep breath before letting out the million dollar information "And we kind of cuddled as well."

"Wait what?" Shevy almost chokes on her drink as pure shock fills her facial details.

"Yeah, we shared his bed and I felt kind of cold so my first instinct was to cuddle up to him. I could tell he was shocked to begin with but eventually I felt him wrap his arm around me and cuddle me back." Delia feels herself blush slightly at the memory whilst also feeling incredibly embarrassed.

"Oh my God, Delia!" Shevy squeals slightly "I told you he had the hots for you! The way that guy looks at you sometimes I can tell he's super conflicted about things."

"Shevy, don't say stuff like that because I will get attached and we both know it'll end badly." Delia shakes her head slightly. "The thing is though, I actually found myself liking him last night. I actually enjoyed his company."

"Girl! Oh my god! It's so obvious that he's conflicted about you! Even Lonny can see it and came to talk to me about it after the both of you left." Shevy explains almost as if stating a fact.

"Shevy, no. Me and Andy are just too different. Plus after this tour finishes next month I'll likely never see you guys again. It's just easier to focus on my work, you of all people should understand that." Delia tries her hardest to not think of Andy; she hated that she was indeed starting to become interested in the guy.

"Of course I understand that sweetie, but at the same time you never know what could happen. Yes relationships are difficult in this line of work unfortunately, but they're not impossible and many people overcome it in different ways." Shevy was being completely reasonable and logical right now and Delia hated that she was right, but still, this was Andy they were talking about.

"Honestly I just find it crazy to think we're already half way through, these 4 weeks have gone crazily quickly." Delia smiles sadly; being a touring sound technician had always been a dream of hers and something she thought about when doing am dram productions.

"Yeah it is sad how quickly it feels they go. At least hopefully you may now get more work after touring with these guys. Worst comes to it, I can put in a good work with my homies Ice Nine Kills when they're ready to tour again." Shevy shrugs.

"That feels like cheating, but thanks Shev." Delia smiles before hearing her phone buzz.

"Another women reported missing, believed to have been snatched by the unknown kidnapper now nicknamed 'The Seattle Bachelorette stealer' taking the missing persons count up to 4. Victims are yet to be found."

"Don't tell me, another missing women in Seattle?" Shevy's face drops slightly; she knew that was a sensitive thing to Delia and that she was nervous about it.

"Yeah, that makes 4 now since we've been touring." Delia nods.

"Shit, those poor women. Look, I know you're worried about going to Seattle because of it but I promise you we'll be fine. The guys and security will make sure nothing happens." Shevy tries to remain positive for her new best friend.

"I know, it's just scary though, isn't it?" Delia smiles ever so slightly.

But the fear was still in the back of her mind and she couldn't help but to remember what happened those couple of years ago.

[punypcrker]

heard, not seen

Peter and Gwen meet when he bumps into her on their first day in their summer internship at Oscorp only to see (pun intended) that she’s blind!

It didn’t help that he had slept through his alarm. Peter had purposely picked a song he hated to blast at full volume a full two hours before he was due to arrive at his internship. He had no intention of being late or unprofessional in any way at Oscorp, especially not on his first day.

“Shit,” Peter winced when he checked his watch again, as he sprinted up the seven flights of stairs he needed to ascend to make it to the meeting room for the new interns.

After sleeping in, he accidentally spilled coffee all over his pristine dress shirt that he had steamed and ready to go since the night before and had to change into his back-up inferior dress shirt. Then, the bus had a delay that resulted in him running the last couple dozen blocks toward the large skyscraper in the middle of Midtown.

So despite his best efforts, Peter was late. Very very late. Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to make it to the floor. He burst through the stairway door and onto the greater floor, following the signs at a brisk pace now that there were bustling employees and interns of all varying levels of security clearance and seniority all around him. His eyes were flicking from one sign to the next as they guided him toward the meeting room he was expected to be at soon. Even after everything that’s stood in his way that morning, that was what finally sealed his fate.

Peter was practically flying down the hallways, following the arrows on the signs toward the room. Given his luck, it only took two rooms and three turns before he felt his body slam into someone standing and heard them squeak in surprise. He swore under his breath and instinctively grabbed the person by the lapel of their long peacoat to keep them from falling backward onto the floor.

“Oh, my god I’m-“ Peter began to apologize as he finally looked at the person he ran into and saw her captivatingly icy blue eyes and long blonde hair, making his heart race, “So sorry…”

“No, I’m sorry!” The young woman cried out, her face pinched in distress as her free hand toyed with the ends of her hair nervously, “This is my first day and I don’t know if I’m standing in the way yet. I haven’t really gotten the floorplan memorized yet so I’m a little-“

It was then that Peter finally noticed the large Rottweiler dog sniffing at him curiously, the leash attached to its vest clutched in her hand alongside a long white cane, and the clear patch that read ‘GUIDE DOG - DO NOT PET.’ Oh, for the love of Christ. Peter just ran into a pretty blind woman… on his first day.

“No, please,” Peter insisted, his heart now practically sitting on the floor since it’s fallen out his ass, “I wasn’t paying attention, I shouldn’t have been going so fast without looking at where I’m going. I am so so so sorry.”

“How about a truce?” The mystery woman offered with a kind smile, making her curious dog sit beside her obediently, “Let me extend an olive branch. I’m Gwen, I’m one of the new interns.”

“Peter,” He replied, taking her extended hand, “I’m Peter. I’m a new intern too. I was running late so I was rushing. I really am sorry, Gwen. Really…”

“I know, Peter,” Gwen smiled and his mouth went dry, she’s so pretty, “It’s okay, I have an idea.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, his brain screaming at him to check his watch again but he ignored it.

“No one walks up to the blind girl with a big Rottie for a guide dog, so Daisy and I are pretty lost,” She explained, and Peter waved at the dog knowing Gwen can’t see him, “How about you walk with us into the meeting room and we tell them you were helping us get around? If that doesn’t excuse your tardiness, I don’t know what will.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Peter insisted, shaking his head, “No, no, no. I’ll happily help you ladies to the meeting room, but you don’t have to save me. It’s my own fault for being late.”

“It’ll be fine!” Gwen insisted with a breathtaking smile, flipping some hair off her shoulder and folding up her collapsible cane to holster it before holding out a hand, “Just give me your elbow, and let me do the talking once we’re in there! This will work, I’ve done it before.”

“Lots of guys physically run into you because they’re late?” He asked, giving her his elbow.

“No,” She giggled, gripping onto his elbow and following as he guided her and Daisy to the interns meeting room, “I’ve just used my disability to get people out of trouble before. It’s concerningly easy.”

“You shouldn’t exploit yourself for my benefit,” He insisted as he pointedly tried not to stare at her pretty pouty pink and glossy lips considering he had no clue how much of her vision she still had, “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

“You worry too much!” Gwen practically groaned, her hand curling around his bicep as she got a little closer to him when she felt Daisy move in toward her to guide her out of someone’s way, “You gotta learn to live a little, Peter.”

“You might be right,” Peter chuckled nervously, “I’m just trying not to mess this opportunity up.”

“With me or the internship?” She asked with a smirk and a wicked look in her eyes, which were so pale they were nearly white, “Because I have no idea what you look like so the ball is totally in your court.”

“Oh,” He choked, almost stopping dead in his tracks before remembering that he was guiding her and her dog, “No, I mean. You’re very beautiful, I-I mean. Of course, I think you're super pretty but not in, like, a creepy way. But I meant-“

“I’m just playing with you, Pete,” Gwen giggled and Peter’s heart continued to pound in his chest, “I know what you meant. But I also meant what I said.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a furrowed brow as they approached the door marked for their internship meeting. All he could do was pray she didn’t hear how nervous she made him. Especially when she didn’t let go of his elbow and looked at him with a sweet smile.

“Ball’s in your court,” She replied as she grabbed and unfolded her cane, her wrist flicking expertly to feel around the immediate area, “You seem sweet. And you sound cute. So, yeah, the blind girl is shooting her shot but in a backwards kind of way by encouraging you to shoot yours.”

“Well, then, I definitely have to shoot mine,” Peter blew out a breath, “You’re very inspirational.”

“If I only had a nickel…” She shook her head, making him chuckle earnestly, “Shoot it later, though. We’re already late enough, I suppose.”

“I suppose you’re right,” He nodded, reaching for the knob.

“You’ll have to get used to that, I often am,” She told him cheekily, “Otherwise, you have no chance.”

“Oh, I am very used to being wrong,” Peter admitted, “I’m even more used to ladies being right. Especially the pretty ones.”

“I said later,” Gwen playfully scolded, trying to play off the blush burning on her cheeks, “Don’t get me all flustered on the first day.”

“But it’s cute,” He smiled, “I like playing with you too. You’re very cute.”

“Stop,” She drew out with a pout, the blush burning bright pink and pulling more chuckles from him as she tried covering her face with her free hand.

“I’m not shooting my shot,” He defended with a smirk, “I’m just telling the truth. You didn’t see the look on my face when I saw you for the first time, you’re quite literally stunning.”

“You’ll have to get used to that too,” She reminded him with a small smile, almost sad, “I can hardly see shadows. I definitely can’t see your face.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Peter said nonchalantly with a half shrug, “I happen to have a great vocabulary and can describe things in great detail.”

”Then maybe you do have a fighting chance,” Gwen chuckled shyly, her eyes returning to her guide dog, “Plus, Daisy seems to tolerate you enough. That’s definitely a good sign.”

”That’s a relief,” He chuckled in return, finally opening the door and gesturing with his free hand, “Ladies first.”

”Thank you, sir,” She said with a single nod, her cane skimming the floor in front of her as she took each step with Daisy dutifully keeping her from running into anything.

Peter followed quickly behind to catch up, walking with her on the opposite side of Daisy toward the large crowd of interns gathered in the center of the room. He wasn’t wasting this opportunity. Not with her.

[silly-ness]

so I’m trying to make this story in my notes app and would like to share it with you. Here is chapter one, and please leave constructive criticism if you have some.

It was any boring day in the castle. Same old routine, same old people to talk to, until my best friend told me news.For some backstory, i’m a prince. Even though I may be the prince, things can get dull if you can’t find the right things to keep you entertained. Sure, there was the occasional person that came to represent other kingdoms, or new workers, but that was few and far between. I was just having a conversation with Minnie, an average maid that was both extremely sweet and my one of the only people here I talk to regularly. 

     “Prince Mako, did you possibly hear about the new guards coming to work here? I know you’re slow on rumors so i can just give you the rundown. I hear they’re siblings, and the older one is very handsome!” She squealed excitedly while using her levitation magic to clean up the dirty chair that had a drink spilled on it. New guards? And around this time of year? Getting hired in the winter was quite rare, so it was surprising to hear. 

     “I also hear that there’s gonna be a huge ball! Many respectable people are going to visit here for it!” Minnie continues. Suddenly, the entire hall -that was previously busy with maids and servants- became quiet. That meant one of two things. The king and queen were here, or a new member of the staff. It was the second one of those two options. Two guards, just as Minnie had told me. 

     The older one was definitely attractive guy, and looked qualified for the job. The younger sister somehow made it into the royal guard. Minnie was almost jumping where she stood. She was always excited to try and make friends, and this time was no different. Even if the dark haired older brother was someone that could easily hurt her. 

     I go back to looking at the new members of the royal guard to find that they are suddenly next to Carlos. Of course. My annoying cousin who was probably here with his even more aggravating personal guard. He just HAD to show up to the ball. 

     Speaking of the ball, I wonder why they haven’t started decorating yet. I was even more curious on why this was an important ball to get many nobles from all over the continent to come. 

      “Hey Min, do you know anything else about the ball?” I asked, turning around to her. She looked a bit mesmerized by someone, but i couldn’t tell who. She quickly realized i’m talking to her, and a bit quickly responds. 

     “Yes actually! I heard that Carlos’s kingdom and the kingdom of the skies had formed an alliance, so that means there might be some people from there coming.” As she says this, I look back over at the other end of the hallway. Carlos was bossing around his personal guard, and the new guards were nowhere to be seen. I guess they went to go get their schedules and rules. I turns back no Minnie. 

     “Do you know what the guards names are?” I ask, before hearing a cold voice behind me. 

     “Our names are Matthew and Leo.” I turn to my left to see who was talking to me. It was both of the new guards. They had completely different demeanors. The guard that spoke to me - who was most likely Matthew - was clearly drained of his energy and was in the verge of sleep. The other, who must be Leo, looked a bit more hyper.

    “Heya! Sorry about Matty’s sour mood that’s draining to look at. He drinks coffee at night.” Leo’s voice was calming yet excited, and they seemed to have a good time embarrassing her brother. Matthew manages to ignore the comment, and continues to look at me. 

     “It’ nice to work under you. But I have something to ask of you. Can you ask the king to change my shift so i’m not with Leo?” Matthew asks with a straight face in a way where i can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. I look over at Minnie, who was smirking at me. I don’t understand her whenever she looks at me like that, but I know she’s up to something.

     “Sure I guess. He might not give the new shift for you, but I’ll try. For you.”

Like i said, this was chapter one. I have chapter two done in my notes, but I would like to just post this one first to see how people like it. Also I made up some of the characters myself and others were characters me and my friend made in a roblox game because we were bored.

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 2: A Long Time Coming || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Complete Faith (Masterpost)

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader; {background SJ x OC, mentions of YG x OC, and HS x OC}

Rating: Soft R overall, this chapter: PG-13

Wordcount: 47k total; this chapter: 6218

Summary: It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

Alternate summary: coworkers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again

TW/CW: Full list on the Masterpost. This chapter: just strong language and alcohol consumption

Notes: This fic is complete and will be updated every Friday evening (EDT timezone).

A HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @kookstempo for the amazing (and ongoing lol) beta job tytytytyty!

Chapter 2: A Long Time Coming

April

The morning meeting, three hours after Ben’s departure, is unbearable. You can barely stay awake, and Nikki is shooting you what is the problem looks that you try desperately to ignore.

When the meeting ends, you book it back to your office, abandoning the daily routine of walking back with some Nikki/Jimin/Yoongi combination.

“Go away,” you hear her tell someone (probably Jimin) ruthlessly. “I need to talk to Y/N privately.”

“You could be a little nicer about it,” someone answers her lightly, and it isn’t Jimin. It sounds like Taehyung, actually. “Is she okay?”

Well, now you’re mortified. You glance at the small mirror you keep on the bookshelf to confirm that, yes, your eyes are still puffy and red, even though you stopped actively crying sometime early this morning. And yes, the bags under your eyes are a clear tell that you hadn’t slept. And yes, your makeup is doing nothing for you today, and yes, your hair looks like all you did was run a brush through it because… all you did was run a brush through it.

“Go away,” Nikki tells him again, not answering his question at all, and knocks on your door.

“Unlock,” she demands from the other side of the frosted glass.

You want to give her a hard time, but you don’t have it in you to be a troll right now. You unlock the door and step back to let her in, closing it quickly behind her. You think you see the shadow of someone loitering just down the hallway, but you ignore this. You sit back at your desk and put your head in your hands.

You need like eight or nine more coffees if you’re going to get through this day.

“You are being extremely weird,” she informs you. You keep your head in your hands and say nothing.

“Y/N? What’s the deal? Spill.”

“I truly don’t even know,” you tell her honestly, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ben showed up at my place last night. We had a huge fight, I even tried to kick him out at one point, make his ass drive three hours home at midnight. Things went from 0 to 100 in like, seconds. I just totally blew up at him out of nowhere.”

“It isn’t out of nowhere,” she says, her voice even quieter, as if she is afraid to say the truth too loud, as if softer will make it hurt less. “You’ve been furious at him for weeks.”

Not weeks. Months. You don’t know what changed – is it just the distance? Is it truly his job? Has he lost interest, fallen out of love with you? Is he over the whole thing? Does he have another girl in his new city, waiting for him to come home? It’s all possible, frankly.

“So did you break up?” she asks, finally.

You shake your head. “Not technically. But he and I definitely need to talk.”

She looks at you, warning playing across her features. “Y/N…”

You put up a hand to stop her. “Don’t lecture me, Nik, please, I can’t take it right now.”

She purses her lips, respecting this, but clearly holding back words. On your desk, your phone – your work phone – rings and you reach for the receiver.

“Human Resources, this is Y/N, how can I help you?”

Nikki stands, giving you a tiny wave, and mouths, Talk later? You nod, listening to the party on the other end of the line.

You take your lunch in your office, not wanting to field any more interrogations. You’re just standing to throw away your napkin when your phone buzzes.

[12:34 pm] Ben: Hey

[12:34 pm] Ben: I guess we should talk?

[12:37 pm] You: Yeah. I guess we’d better.

[12:39 pm] Ben: I’ll pick you up at 7?

[12:40 pm] You: that’s fine rn, I’ll let you know if that changes… if I have to get Sierra or anything

[12:55 pm] Ben: See you at 7.

You decide a few hours later that you deeply, desperately need more coffee. You get an after-lunch energy slump most days, but after barely sleeping last night it is hitting you hard today. You head towards the staff room, clutching your coffee mug.

Taehyung is there, filling a Styrofoam cup with hot water and ripping open the packaging for a teabag.

“Hey,” he smiles at you, shuffling aside so you can stick your mug under the spout for the coffee.

“Hi,” you say back, glancing at him. You do a quick double-take. Taehyung is generally pretty smiley, it’s one of the reasons you never took him too seriously – he never seemed that serious himself. But today, something is off. His eyes look tight, his shoulders too tense.

“Um, are you-?” you say, surprising yourself. You hadn’t really made the decision to inquire, but here came the words anyway. “-Are you okay?”

He looks at you, then fishes for a sugar packet for his tea. “Right as rain. Thanks.”

You chew on your lip, filling your mug to the brim and scooting over to the fridge for the little jug of creamer kept in there. “You sure? You look… stressed.”

When he just looks at you, you backpedal quickly. “I’m sorry – don’t take that the wrong way. You look great. I mean, you look fine.” Oh my GOD, what is wrong with you? “I just, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just – I only-.”

“Y/N,” he stops you gently, your name coming out of his mouth like a sigh. “Relax.” He takes a breath. “I’m okay. Thanks for checking.” He opens his mouth, his eyebrows bunching up quizzically, but then Jimin breezes through the door.

“Ah, my two favorite coworkers!” he grins. “Coffee time?”

“I’m telling Yoongi that he’s not your favorite,” you tease. “And you know Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee.”

Wait. Since when did you know Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee? Your brain is shorting out up there. You decide to make a hasty retreat, telling the guys goodbye, and head back to your own space.

You call Sierra from the car on your drive home.

“Hi Tiny,” you say. “I can’t call you at bedtime tonight, so I’m calling now.”

“Why not?” she asks.

“I’m going out to dinner with Ben,” you admit.

“OooOooohh,” she teases. “Are you two going to kiss?”

“Oh my god, don’t be such a giant weirdo!” you laugh. “If he’s really nice to me, I’ll let him hold my hand.”

A few minutes later, she tells you, “Mommy wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Bye, Tiny. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Here’s Mommy.” There was silence and then your mother’s voice – “Hello? Y/N?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Are you busy on Sunday?” she asks. “I keep forgetting to tell you. Sierra’s got a violin recital.”

Noooooo no no no no no no no. “Are you on speakerphone?” you ask cautiously.

“No.”

You lower your voice to a whisper. “Okay, how long do you think this thing will be? Can I sneak out after Tiny’s turn?”

Your mom laughs, and for a second things feel really normal. You feel light and okay and wow, it’s been a while since you’ve felt that.

“There are ten students,” she says, thinking out loud. “Less than ten minutes per kid… probably around an hour and a half of them playing? Then there’s a little reception after – finger sandwiches and that kind of thing.”

You groan. “You know I love Tiny more than anything on this Earth, but that honestly sounds like torture.”

“We’ll pick you up at 10:30,” she tells you, as if you had said it sounded like a glorious day and you couldn’t wait. “Wear something pretty.”

At 6:00 you’re in your closet, digging around for something pretty - not for the nine-year-old’s violin recital, but for your dinner with Ben. You finally choose a more conservative black dress with long sleeves and a keyhole back. Appropriate. It looks like mourning wear.

When Ben pulls up outside of your apartment building, you walk quickly to slide into the passenger seat. He looks over at you as you shut the door and buckle up.

“Hi,” he says. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you say, feeling weirdly shy. He starts to pull away, the silence ballooning between you, and you truly cannot take it.

“Ben?” you say tentatively. “I know we’ll talk it all out... and we should wait until we’re out of the car… but I wanted to say I’m really sorry for cursing at you like that.”

“That’s all you’re sorry for?” he asks, not looking over.

You push back the wave of defensiveness. “No,” you admit. “Not the only thing. But it is the thing I’m most sorry for.”

He nods, eyes on the road. “I appreciate the apology,” he says finally.

You don’t speak again until you’re at the restaurant.

“I…” he starts, then stops. He tugs a hand through his hair, looks around the room, taps his fingertip against the table. Then he tries again. “Y/N, I just really don’t understand what happened.” He looks at you, eyes almost wild. “I mean, seriously, what the hell happened?”

“I have the same question,” you tell him quietly. This is it, this is the moment. You barrel ahead before you can lose your nerve. “But not about last night. What happened between, I don’t know, December and now?”

In his defense, he takes this seriously. He hears what you are really asking, and he stops, and he thinks for a minute.

“I don’t think there’s an easy answer to that,” he finally admits. “Nothing happened.”

“Right, exactly,” you jump in. “Nothing happened, but here we are. I blew up last night because I’m stressed over my mom’s situation, and I worry like crazy about Sierra being okay, and it’s a lot sometimes and then everything with you boiled over when you touched on that…” You pause, looking at him, feeling a little helpless. “I take full responsibility for blowing up last night. I apologize – I am so sorry I said those things. But I don’t think we’ll be okay until we figure out how we got to that point. How I ended up so fed up, you know?”

He nods, but keeps his eyes on the tablecloth.

“Ben,” you say… afraid to ask the question, but knowing you have to. “Do you still want to be with me? Really?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

And it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. You need him to say yes and I love you and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and I’ll do better and, fuck, maybe even you mean so much to me, I can’t imagine losing you.

But all he says is yes.

“It… hasn’t felt like it. For a while.”

It’s hard to say this. It’s hard to admit this. It kicks your pride in the dick, it makes you feel weak and pitiful, but he needs to know, doesn’t he?

Ben furrows his brow in frustration. “I don’t know what else to do, Y/N,” he says, exasperation laced through his voice. “I keep telling you – I’m so busy with work. And then when I am awake it’s like the middle of the night, and you’re asleep… and then when we do talk you just nag me-.”

“It isn’t nagging to communicate my needs,” you say, hearing the edge in your voice but unable to soften it. “This isn’t enough for me and I am trying to make you see that.”

You lock eyes across the table.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, and this is close enough to what you need to hear that you feel yourself breathe again.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says. It is, yet again, just not quite what you need.

“Are we okay?” you ask. You feel so small and it really truly sucks.

“That’s entirely up to you,” he says, and he sounds cold again. “You’re the one who doesn’t think this is enough for them.”

You huff in frustration. It feels like you’re having two separate conversations.

“Ben,” you say, trying to explain yourself. “On the days where I don’t hear from you, I honestly feel single. Like, so lonely, no one to tell about my day… and then add on top that I’m missing you, too. I’m not telling you that you aren’t enough for me. I’m telling you the current amount of talking is not enough for me. This isn’t going to work if nothing changes.”

He grimaces. “I don’t know what I can promise you, Y/N. I’m already doing my best. I don’t know what else I have to give.”

You look at each other, a stalemate.

“Can’t you just try?” you finally ask, all the air leaving you with the words. It’s tiny and it’s desperate, and it makes you feel pitiful. “Can’t you just promise to try?”

Before you go to sleep that night, you get a text.

[11:42 pm] Ben: Goodnight, sweet dreams

“I think,” you say seriously to Nikki on Friday night, “I might be the most in love I have ever been in my life.”

She looks at you flatly, tired of your shit already and it’s only 8 pm.

“No, I mean it,” you tell her, pointing a finger. “This is what life is about. I want to get married. I want longevity.”

“Y/N, they’re just onion rings.”

Seokjin walks by at that exact moment and throws you both a grin. “The best damn onion rings you’ve ever tasted, right?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically. “That’s exactly what I was trying to tell her.”

There are about six of your coworkers (mostly Nikki’s friends) crowded around the table, plus a handful of Jin’s friends that you don’t really know. Yoongi is somewhere in the middle, talking animatedly to his girlfriend, who is – side note - adorable.

Jimin and Taehyung are way at the other end, laughing so hard they are practically crying, holding onto the table for support, as they compare pinky sizes. Every time they catch their breath and get it together, they lose it all over again at Jimin’s teeny pinky barely making it to the knuckle on Taehyung’s. You don’t think either of them is even drunk, they’re just honestly that ridiculous together. Taehyung’s friend is with them, laughing along, but you haven’t been introduced.

Seokjin had been buzzing around for a while but he finally settles in next to Nikki. “No Ben?” he asks, and Nikki elbows him, as subtle as an elephant.

You glance at your phone again. Nothing. Your heart sinks into your stomach, disappointment followed by a wave of anger, just as it had every time you checked your phone between Thursday morning and now.

“Nope,” you say curtly. “That’s part of why I’m trying to marry fried foods now.”

“You could do worse,” he says seriously.

Not only is Ben late – he promised to be there by 8 and he’s later with every tick of the clock – but he hasn’t texted you even once today.

So much for trying harder.

After chatting with Seokjin and Nikki for a little about the tv show you finally caught up on, you stand to go order a new drink at the bar. Beside you, the couple sits with their heads close together, talking very quietly about something. You leave them alone, not wanting to intrude.

A decent chunk of the crowd has moved to the dancefloor as the restaurant staff pushed the tables aside to move into Bar Mode for the night. Taehyung and Jimin are still at their end of the table, talking to two guys you didn’t know. You don’t see Yoongi and his girlfriend anywhere, but he hasn’t told you goodbye so you figure they’re around somewhere.

At the bar, you lean over and tell the bartender what you’d like, then straighten back up while you wait. The guy next to you turns and gives you a little smile.

“You with that group?” he asks, beer glass in hand.

“Yep,” you answer shortly with a tight-lipped smile. What a dance it is – being friendly enough to not get called a bitch, but not so friendly that you get called a tease.

“I’ve been watching for a few minutes,” he says, and you think, That’s not creepy at all, please continue…. “It doesn’t seem like you have anyone to talk to over there. Why don’t you sit here for a little for some conversation?”

Who said I want conversation?

“No thanks,” you say, and the bartender slides your drink over to you. You point at Jin so he knows to put it on the party’s tab.

“Come on, be a good sport,” the guy cajoles. You frown. He doesn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?”

You take a small step backwards, but he moves with you. “I’m going to go back with my friends,” you say firmly, but still with that little smile.

“Hey -,” he says, reaching for you as you step away, but then there’s a heavy arm over your shoulders and a solid body pressed against your side.

“I wondered where you went,” Taehyung says, smiling down at you. It’s not the boxy, happy smile. It actually looks kind of… dangerous. You must be drunk. Behind the smile, he looks a little pissed. His eyes are glinty. It’s kind of hot, but you tell your brain to heel.

“I’m right here,” you say with a coy smile, playing along. “Did you miss me?”

The guy at the bar is opening and closing his mouth like a fish, slowly flushing red.

“Have a nice night!” you chirp, and you let Taehyung wheel you around and walk you back towards the table, his hand moving from your shoulders to the small of your back as he guides you.

“I hope that was okay,” he whispers, dipping his head low so you can hear him. “I was heading over for a beer and your body language didn’t look good. Did I fuck up?”

“You didn’t fuck up,” you assure him quickly, “but I don’t want you to think I’m helpless! I could have handled it.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t need to handle it,” he tells you. Instead of going back to where you had been sitting with Nikki and Seokjin, you join Taehyung back on the other side of the table with Jimin. Your legs press together as you sit, but you’re buzzed, and you’re pissed at Ben, and Taehyung looks like Taehyung, so you make the very quick decision to not give a shit and just let it be. Your back is tingling where his hand had rested.

You sit there talking for a while with Jimin and Taehyung, who introduces you to his college friend Jungkook. You’re laughing so hard you rest your head on your arms for support when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up to find Ben staring down at you, very sober, and clearly unhappy.

“Ben,” you say, straightening up right away.

“You look comfortable,” he says flatly, eyeing how closely you’re sitting to Taehyung. You move quickly, not just away, but up – scrambling to your feet unsteadily.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask him, not even caring that you have quite an audience. “That’s what you have to say? I’ve been calling and texting you for -,” you glance at the time, “ten fucking hours! Not to mention that I heard exactly zero words from you yesterday day or night!”

“Are we really doing this again?” he asks you, stepping closer, voice low.

“What do you mean again? Again indicates that we ever stopped! You couldn’t even make it a full 24 hours acting like you give a shit about me!” You are uncomfortably aware of all the eyes watching this go down, and so is Ben.

“Let’s go outside and talk,” he suggests.

You’re furious at his audacity, but you know he’s right. You follow him away from the table, casting an apologetic look at the guys as you leave. The air outside is cold – spring has been in full bloom (no pun intended) during the day but the nights have been chilly. The cold air sobers you immediately, and you feel the anger seep out of you, leaving a hollow, devastated sadness instead.

“Ben,” you say softly. “Do you recognize how fucked up it is that you ignored me since our conversation Wednesday night, then showed up here two and a half hours late only to immediately make a dig at me like I’m doing something wrong?”

“What was with you and that guy?” he counters, gesturing back at the restaurant’s lit windows.

“Literally nothing,” you say evenly. “He works with me, I was talking to the whole group of my coworkers. But that is so far from the point.” You stop talking, walk a few steps, then turn back around. “I can’t do this anymore. I cannot do this one more day, Ben.”

He cocks his head at you, frowning. “Threatening me with a breakup again?”

You shake your head. “It’s not a threat. I really mean it. I just truly do not have it in me to keep doing this, fighting, feeling heartbroken even when we’re together… I can’t take it. I’m sorry… I have a lot of love for you, but…”

But I deserve better than this.

“But it’s done,” you finish.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, voice still low, and steps toward you. “I’ve driven here three times this week, and you want to act like I’m not doing my part? What a delusional fucking bitch -.”

“Hey!” someone shouts from the door, and with a fresh wave of absolute shame you think it’s Taehyung rescuing you a second time in less than an hour – fuck, you really need to cut your losses and go the hell home – but it’s Seokjin, coming through the front door, Nikki hot on his heels.

“Fuck off, Ben!” she tells him sweetly. “Y/N said you’re done, we all heard her.”

“Go inside, you guys,” you tell them quietly, so embarrassed you could just combust.

They don’t; they stay frozen in place, watching the situation before them. Ben turns and walks back towards where he must have parked his car, not looking back. You watch him go and feel…. Empty. Your chest hurts, your feet hurt, your eyes burn, you need to get home now.

You face Nikki. It’s hard. You want the sidewalk to just swallow you up. It can let you out in a few days when the shame has ebbed a little. She doesn’t let you get away with that for even a second before she rushes forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

“I really, really, really want to go home,” you whisper back. “But I do not want to go back in there and look a single person in the eyes.”

She looks at Seokjin and they have what appears to be a very effective silent conversation. He nods, she nods back.

“Stay here,” she tells you. “Get an Uber – I’ll go home with you. Jin will get me in the morning. I’ll just run inside and grab your purse and your coat, okay?”

You close your eyes, practically sagging with relief. “Nikki, you are literally my favorite person on this planet.”

She giggles and gives you a smooch on the cheek, and then hurries inside to hunt for your stuff.

The bar inside is crowded as midnight creeps closer, and Nikki struggles to make her way through the packed dancefloor and over to the table that Jin’s party had claimed. Once there, she starts poking around the coats, looking for your fuzzy one. She is halfway aware of the conversation happening behind her as she picks up one coat after another –

“-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, his name is Ben. We’ve met once or twice. He’s… eh.”

“I hope I didn’t cause an issue… we were just talking.”

Nikki watches out of the corner of her eyes, slowing her coat hunting so she can eavesdrop longer, as Jimin shrugs at this.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Even if you did cause a thing, seems like you probably did her a favor. She could do better.”

“Definitely,” Taehyung agrees, and Jimin slaps his chest playfully.

“Hey, what do you care, anyway? You and Y/N barely even talk. You interested?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer this, and then spots Nikki hovering near them, your coat in her hands. He freezes, eyes widening comically, mouth still open, and flushes deep red from the neck up.

Nikki grabs your clutch off the table and waves it at them. “I heard nothing! I know nothing! I came in, I got the coat, I left! Goodbye!”

She leaves them before anyone can reply, pushing back through the crowd, making her way back to your side.

When your alarm goes off in the morning, you reach out and press the button without opening your eyes. You press your face into the flat mattress, breathing, assessing. Nikki is still asleep next to you, snoring lightly. You can hear rain hitting the air conditioner. You do not seem to have a hangover, though they do sometimes sneak up on you once you’re up.

So here you go. It’s morning, and it’s time to get up and live your life. Which is now a life without Ben.

You don’t move, not even lifting your face from the mattress. Finally, you bribe yourself with the promise of so much coffee, and you get up, shuffling towards the bathroom.

Nikki finds you in the living room about half an hour later, the coffee cup between your hands as expected.

“Morning,” you greet her. “There’s coffee. I’ve got juice in the fridge, too.”

“Thank you,” she says, eyes still mostly closed, as she makes her way into the kitchen. You hear the fridge open and then close. She joins you on the couch with a heavy plop, pulling roughly at the blanket you have wrapped around your legs, trying to stick her feet under, too.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, untucking a corner so she can slide her legs under. “Sheesh.”

“It’s cold in here,” she says defensively. Then, “How are you doing?”

You shrug. The honest answer is terrible but you don’t want to say it. “I’m okay. It just feels…. weird.”

She sighs, leaning against you. “I know it isn’t really helpful right now… but I think you did the right thing. And it will feel better, with time.”

She’s right.

It isn’t helpful.

[2:34 pm] Jimin: heyyyy did you make it home safe last night?

[2:37 pm] You: if I didn’t, it’s a little late for you to help!

[2:38 pm] Jimin: why are you like this.

[2:40 pm] You: lololol. Yes, Nikki came home with me, all good. Did we miss anything amazing?

[2:42 pm] Jimin: YES. We switched bars and Tae’s friend Jungkook did karaoke with us and he has THE most amazing voice, I’m not even kidding. It was mindblowing.

[2:46 pm] You: I won’t lie you to, Jimin. I am not sorry that I missed karaoke.

[2:29 pm] Jimin: You are no fun, Y/N. No fun at all.

[2:30 pm] You: rude.

[2:37 pm] Jimin: So like… I’m only asking because I want to make sure you’re alright…. But that looked kind of bad last night. Are you okay???

[2:38 pm] You: ugggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[2:39 pm] You: can everyone pls just collectively forget that all happened, it’s so embarrassing

[2:40 pm] Jimin: please don’t feel embarrassed, we all care abt u.

[2:42 pm] You: I broke up with him

[2:50 pm] Jimin: Y/N I am SO sorry. I hope you’re doing okay. We love you.

[2:51 pm] You: who is this ‘we’???

[2:52 pm] Jimin: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THISSSSSS

[2:54 pm] You: lololol I love u 2, see you monday

Sunday starts the same as Saturday – a brief second of peace as you first wake up, and then the stomach-pain sadness that comes as you remember.

But you are going to get up, put one foot in front of the other and all that shit, until it feels better.

First, coffee.

--

You clutch a bit of the hem of your floral dress between your thumb and forefingers and rub it absently. The bald head belonging to the man in front of you mostly blocks your view, but if you lean a little to the left you’d see the most nervous foursome of preteen girls you’ve ever seen in your life, seated with their string instruments on the humble stage at the front of the room.

Sierra’s recital is being held at a cultural center in town, previously a library built before the turn of the century. The high ceilings make for great acoustics, you’ve been told. The string quartet begins their first number again, after one of the girls’ music stands had tipped and dumped her sheet music on the floor. They’d had to stop and regroup, electing to start again. The stand-tipper was still beat red, and the girl to her left looked clammy and sweaty from nerves.

Your phone buzzes on your lap, and you do an honest-to-god double-take when you see the name on your screen.

[11:37 am] WORK – Kim Taehyung: do you think it would make them less nervous if I sang along really off-key?

You wheel your head around, scanning the crowd, eyes wide with disbelief. Is he here? Why? And when the fuck did you put his number in your phone?! You have, truly, zero recollection of that happening.

Your phone buzzes again.

[11:38 am] WORK – Kim Taehyung: other side :)

You peek behind you the other way, more subtly this time, and catch his eyes a few rows back. He grins and you feel yourself smiling back. He jerks his chin towards the empty seat beside him and raises an eyebrow. You don’t even think about it before you are murmuring, “Excuse me,” to the people you have to step over to make your way out to the aisle and back to him.

“Hi,” he whispers, still smiling, when you sit. He smells good. Heel, brain, heel!

“Hello,” you whisper back. “What on Earth are you doing here?”

He points at the stand-tipper, who is still bright red even as their first number comes to a close. “The very stylish tomato up there is my little cousin.”

“Wow,” you say. “I don’t think I love any of my cousins enough to sit through something like this.”

He laughs at this, which causes a few heads to turn. An older lady behind him reaches up and whacks him on the shoulder with her program. He gives her a sheepish face and she sits back again, satisfied with her scolding.

“My aunt,” he explains, voice barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper. You’re watching his lips very closely to understand what he’s saying. No other reason. You nod silently, not wanting to be his aunt’s next victim.

The quartet finishes their second piece, and you clap politely along with the rest of the crowd. As they shuffle off-stage, a little boy replaces them at the piano. You sit and try to listen, try not to sneak sideways glances.

When Sierra’s turn comes, you whisper to Taehyung, “I’m going to tell you two things. One: I love this little human more than anyone on this Earth. Two: this is going to hurt your ears, and I am sorry.”

He stifles a laugh, pressing his lips together in mirth, nodding to show he understands and accepts his fate.

Sierra places the violin under her chin, lifts her bow, but scans the crowd instead of looking at her music stand. You know your mom is in the back, you saw her earlier standing with Sierra as they waited for her turn. But Sierra’s eyes find yours, and you give her the most encouraging smile you can muster up. Taehyung, a total stranger to your Tiny, throws a thumbs-up into her line of view for good measure. She takes a breath… and begins her assault on the eardrums of every person in the building.

You feel your smile freeze on your face, and you cannot look at Taehyung or you will laugh, and if you laugh right now it will shatter your poor baby sister’s heart.

--

You separate from Taehyung during the reception to find your families. Sierra greets you with a bear hug, and you lift her feet off the ground and swing her a little.

“I’m so proud of you!” you tell her. “You showed that piece who’s boss!”

She giggles, and you set her back on the ground. Your mother comes to hug you, and you return it. You pick at some fruit salad, chasing a very disobedient grape around the tiny paper plate with your plastic fork.

“Who was that you were sitting with?” your mom asks, and you can tell she’s looking at Taehyung across the room. You refuse to follow her gaze.

“Weird coincidence,” you say, still trying to spear the offending grape. “He works with me, he’s in the business office with Jimin. His cousin is the cellist.”

“He is really cute,” Sierra says, so fucking loudly, and you give her a wide-eyed shut up or perish look.

“ANYWAY,” you say loudly, “I’m going to go anywhere but with you two and do anything but talk about this. Goodbye!”

This is you channeling Nikki, for sure, but it works, and you head towards the food table even though you don’t want more food. God, those two! And neither of them even knew you weren’t with Ben anymore! The nerve!

You pour yourself a cup of (sadly, unspiked) punch just to do something. You glance at Taehyung – he’s easy to find across a crowded room, he’s so damn tall – and see he is surrounded by the program-wielding aunt and his little cousin (who is no longer bright red), as well as a beautiful, middle-aged woman who stands with a cane. You watch as Taehyung glances around, then speaks softly to a young man sitting in a folding chair. The younger man stands, and Taehyung ushers the woman with the cane to this seat. You turn and head back to your own little cluster.

“Let’s talk about how great Tiny was!” you say brightly, hoping to steer the conversation into less potentially mortifying waters. “You were so brave! Were you scared?”

“So scared,” she says immediately. “I was shaking! I could barely see the music!”

“It seemed like you knew the notes,” you tell her, seriously.

She nods emphatically. “I memorized it.”

You meet your mother’s gaze, astonished. She smiles at you, clearly proud. “You wouldn’t believe how many hours Sierra spends practicing,” she says. You actually feel a little bad for your mother… there’s a first.

A little bit later, you make your way into the hallway to find the ladies’ room. Your mom had gotten pulled into conversation by Sierra’s teacher and another parent, and the kids themselves had gone outside to run around and ruin their nice clothes. You’re breathing in the silence of the hallway compared to the noisy reception room when you spot Taehyung again, coming in from outside.

“It’s getting ready to pour out there,” he warns you.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. You hadn’t noticed the clouds roll in. “I guess I better get her inside.”

He nods, then looks at his feet, shuffling awkwardly. “Hey, Y/N,” he says, and then stops. You just look at him, wait for him to find his words, having no idea where this was going to go.

“Listen,” he says, and his voice is gentle, “about Friday night…”

“Oh,” you say again. You don’t mean to. It just comes out.

“I wanted to apologize… if I… accidentally…” He is struggling, and you decide to help him out.

“Taehyung, it’s really sweet of you to feel like you need to say sorry, but you have nothing to apologize for. Beyond nothing, seeing as you helped me out with that asshole at the bar. You didn’t do anything wrong. We were just talking, there’s nothing going on here.”

He shuffles more, unconvinced. “I know that, but I think it looked bad. I just can’t help wondering if you had been at the other end of the table with Nikki…”

“Ben and I broke up last night – which I assume you know because Jimin has a big mouth – but I promise it had nothing to do with you. It was… a long time coming. To say the least.”

He meets your eyes, frowning. “I’m still really sorry. I hope you’re okay.”

You nod, looking away, towards the windows that showed the clouds growing darker and darker, threatening to wash it all away. “I will be,” you tell him. <- Ch 1 | Masterpost | Ch 3 -> Bonus: Taehyung's POV

Thank you SO MUCH for being here!!! Every single like means the world to me. Chapter 3 has one of my favorite moments of the whole story, so buckle up!

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[kissbentennyson]

I have no idea if you'd do this but I need a nega ben x reader. He's my favorite out of the alternates. A softer one shot would be nice but whatever you're feeling is good too! I'll take any content I can get!

*Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica begins to play* Yeah me too.

Nega Ben x Reader | reader uses they/them pronouns, but dresses femininely.

Spill

He’d been waiting all day, and I mean, all day. Classes always seemed to drag on and on longer when he wanted something, and sure, he could have skipped. But that would have taken too much effort not to get caught. He isn’t afraid of the cops or the school administration… But dealing with his parents? Yeah, no. Not worth it. He’d b-lined it across Bellwood, all the way to the “café” he frequented. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a café seeing as how they specialize in more smoothie like drinks, but whatever. It has been rather crowded, too crowded, and everyone just wanted to get in then out.

He should have expected to bump or get bumped into someone, but it didn’t dawn on him until his espresso smoothie was all over your bright pink, fuzzy sweater. Both of you stood there with slack jaws and wide eyes as the brown liquid dripped from your chest and down onto an equally as pink lolita-esque skirt. It looked expensive, not in a daddy's money way, in a “I saved up to buy this” way. And so, he was prepared for hell.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!”

When it left you, Ben was confused. “Gosh, I should have been looking where I was going… But I was too distracted. Ugh, I-” You were flustered , more than actually, embarrassed is the correct word. “Um… Give me a second and I'll buy you a new one…”

“What?”

Watching as you tried to pat away the coffee with one of the recycled paper napkins the café gives out, a million thoughts passed through him. Of course he took the offer, he wanted that coffee. The line was a lot shorter this time around, and got by a lot quicker too. You ordered for him as he zoned out suddenly looking over your shoulder at him. “What?” He asks, watching you get even more flustered. “I just asked if you wanted anything else. Do you?” “Oh, uh, yeah.” he clears his throat, raising his voice. “The kale chips.”

You both walked out together, your head was down and you watched your shoes as you walked. “Again, I’m really sorry.” He glances at you with a slight side eye as he sips on the coffee, this was the gazillionth time you’ve apologized in just the last few minutes. “It’s… whatever.” He lets out a quick and breathy chuckle. “You apologize to me, but I ruined your sweater.” All of the sudden, your embarrassment seemed non-existent. A light and bubbly laugh leaving you. “Ruined? Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine. I've dealt with worse.”

“Anyways! I have to get home and change, It was nice meeting you!”

-

The lunch room was beyond packed, packed like the reunion tour of a popular punk band from the 2000's. The doors and tables overflow with hungry and impatient mouths. You had managed to get in before the rush and snag a serving of less than okay school food, but by the time you got out of line, they had all flooded in. People had no concern for others around them, pushing and shoving like toddlers over toys, and you were getting the brunt of it. Not actually, but it sure felt like it.

You were halfway across the room and were looking around the tables for a free space- but it was too late for that already. A body slams into yours hard, you hit the ground as your food falls and splatters all of the chest of the sweater you had just gotten the coffee stain out of. Feet come down around you as you struggle to get up, the other person now looming over you. “Could you have watched where you were going!?” This whole situation was not intentional, but they had no right to get angry at you for that.

You felt the tips of your ears heat, unable to answer. Her eyes bore down on you as she sways with every passing body bumping into her. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab the back of your sweater and pull you from the ground, as if they were scruffing a cat. “Or, maybe you could stop play fighting with your friends in the cafeteria, like a bitch.” Her jaw drops and her freckled face goes red with embarrassment, obviously on the fact that she can't pawn her mistake off on someone else this time. The voice was rather monotone- in a way- compared to the words spoken. And rather familiar.

When you look up it’s the guy from the café, his neutral expression was a thin vale to hide his irritation- at least to you. His hand still had a grip on the back of your shirt, it was a firm hold, and it made you just a tad bit nervous. You swallow as the person swallows her embarrassment, rolling her eyes desperately to try and hide. “Whatever freak, sorry…” she turns and disappears into the crowd. You watch her do so, completely shocked at the situation at hand. Your lips part to say something, but his grip on your sweater releases, being replaced by an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly, you’re being dragged through the crowd and towards the cafeteria door.

He walks you out into the hallway, which is mostly empty at this point. “Thank you.” you choke out through the lump in your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking with you- and you aren’t in any position to object.

Eventually you reach the stairs. Under it is a mostly empty black backpack, and there’s a light reflection of gold from inside. The weight of his arm leaves your shoulders and he walks ahead, sliding under the stairs and sitting with his back to an old AC unit. You hesitate for a moment, you’ve only met this guy one other time… maybe you should just wait…… nah.

Sliding under the stairs right after him, you sit straight across from the guy. He’s already looked away. “I think we have third period together. Your name is Ben, right?” His phone is already out, and he’s scrolling through it. “Well I'm…” you give him your name, and all he does is look up at you with a nod before going back to his phone. The volume is low, but there are noises coming from it, ones you recognize. “Is that the Sumo Slammers mobile game?” There was no judgement in your voice at all, and suddenly the losing end sound plays.

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah?” “My little brother is obsessed with that series. He says that the mobile game isn’t that good, but he still played it to the end.” He let out a little huff like laugh through his nose, pressing the power button and finally giving you his full attention. “Yeah, maybe the old one wasn't that good, but this one is a new release- Doesn’t even have dubbed lines yet.” He clears his throat, slouching a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. “Actually, it’s not fully released in the states yet. I got pre access to the game.” He watches you smile, and suddenly there's a slight tense feeling in his chest.

“That’s really cool, are you a beta tester or something?” He shrugs. “No, and it’s whatever.” He glances away, gaze holding on the wall. “Well I think it’s really cool, especially since it's a series you like.” “How do you know that?” His gaze snaps back to you, suddenly defensive. “Your backpack is open and the sun is reflecting off of the cold backing of the trading cards.” You lazily point to the stairs above you, and there is the reflected image of the symbol on the cards. “Those are the collectors additions, from japan. I know because I’ve been looking for that exact deck for my brother.”

You watch as his cheeks dust a light pink color, lightly nudging his bag so it falls over. He starts avoiding eye contact, leaning back fully against the old AC unit. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up your sweater?” You lean back against the stairs. “Yeah, maybe. But I think you’re kinda cool, and I’d like to stay.”

It was rather silent the rest of lunch, when you tried to hold a conversation- he would end it with short answers that gave you nothing to build off of. The bell rings above you like the screech of an angered bird. You both get up, him raising from the floor before you. You brush the dirt off of the back of your thighs, the light sound of unzipping catching your attention. You watch as the zipper of his hoodie comes down as he pulls it. Yanking it off of his shoulders, revealing the greenish-grey long sleeve he had under it.

“Here. Even if you get the food off, it’ll still stain.” He hands you the coat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the already open flap lolling open even more. “Oh, thank you, I don’t know what to sa-” “Don’t. Don’t say anything. This never happened.” He walks past you and into the crowd of students, with his head down.

You watch as he does so, eventually looking back down at the hoodie in hand. You feel your face just slightly twinge with heat. “Yeah… Alright.” You say under your breath as you rush off to the nearest bathroom to scrub the food scum from your sweater.

-

It was a game day.

Not that he kept track of that, he had never been into football. Once upon a time he played soccer, but after he got the Negatrix any hopes of that former love returning was gone. Ben knew it was game day because his cousin was in her cheerleading outfit- and it was no were near time for cheer competitions. Her makeup was done and her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up, and she sat in the front seat of her boyfriend's car chatting to said boyfriend about the routines she had to do.

Ben sat in the back, as he always did, waiting for the drive to be over. It came soon enough as the car pulled into the drop off area in front of the school, slowing to a stop. Neither Tennyson waited for it to fully stop before opening their doors. He got out, closing it with a slam and without a thank you. Gwen still leaning in and talking. The chatter of the hoard of tired teenagers flocking into the building almost drowned out the shouting of his name.

Almost.

He groans, looking over his shoulder, spotting the mass of pastels jogging towards him with something in their arms. “I’m so glad I got here on time! They were packed this morning- and I thought I'd be late- but I made it.” In your arms is his hoodie and an espresso smoothie. You hand him your gifts with a large smile. “I um, washed the jacket for you. Thanks again.” The bell rings and you give a quick wave before pushing into the school building yourself.

His jaw hangs slack, looking down at his freshly cleaned jacket- lint free, folded, and still warm- and the smoothie. When he moves there's a light cracking from inside the jacket, like the sound of a chip bag. He pulls back one of the folds and there is a bag of kale chips, stuck to it is a yellow sticky note written on with a pink gel pen. A phone number with “See you at lunch.”

“Who was that?” Ben looks over at his cousin, an impressed smirk on her lips.

“You’re getting mileage out of this, huh?” “Soooo much.”

[nameless-shrimp]

CHAPTER THREE || YOKOHAMA GANGSTER PARADISE

PAIRING: Osamu Dazai x F!Reader

PRONOUNS: she/her, f!reader

TYPE: story

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

WARNINGS: scars, fighting, self-harm, Dazai's suicidal references, heavy grammar errors

AUTHOR'S NOTE: wooooo, a continuation! the time has come, so here it chapter three. i truly hope you enjoy it. more explanation to Y/N's ability will be added below as an extra note once you finish reading the chapter. also, after writing on this blog for some time, you may notice a change in my writing style-ish? that'll show here, and most likely moving forward. i will also start adding word counts now just so you guys can get an idea of how much i've written for each chapter. i guess, LOL.

BEFORE READING:

➵ The story of Bungo Stray Dogs belongs to Kafka Asagiri.

➵ Y/N's ability will be explained a little bit more in an extra note at the end of this chapter. Read that once you finish reading the chapter.

➵ Here is the STORY MASTERLIST.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

You followed the blonde woman in front of you as she was making her way to the bathroom. She excused herself for a moment before you rested your back against the wall, sighing as you held out your phone to see that Chuuya had texted you an angry message about how you spilled coffee on one of his new vests—and it was totally not an accident.

(Definitely not.)

“How do I look?” You heard a feminine voice next to you as you saw the blonde’s hair in a more formal state and she straightened out any wrinkles on her black blazer.

“You look fine Higuchi,” you responded, putting your phone back in your pocket.

Higuchi looked at your outfit; a black blazer and pants—and it only took more talks with Akutagawa to finally have you join in on the mission of pretending to be civilians with Higuchi in order to get closer to the Agency. He promised it would’ve been a simple mission, though you had a thought that the plan was not going to go as well as Akutagawa would have hoped.

“You look beautiful yourself, Y/N,” she complimented you and you only returned a smile. She noticed your hesitant look and she scrunched up her nose. “Y/N, don’t worry. The plan will go smoothly and we will be able to capture the Weretiger.”

“I didn’t even want to do this, to begin with,” you muttered in annoyance.

“As much as I respect you as the future executive, I expected more of your support when it comes to the Port Mafia,” Higuchi retorted, placing her hands on her hips. “Y/N, you are aware that you cannot go back to the normal life from before, right? Because now you are part of the Port Mafia.”

You remained quiet, not wanting to continue on with the conversation but it seemed as if it was never going to escape you; high expectations of becoming the future executive, and with Mori on your head, praising you every moment you stepped into his large office—all of it was unbearable and almost terrifying at the same time.

“Your words don’t scare me, Higuchi,” you retorted, closing your eyes. “I can walk out at any moment and I know damn well that not one of you will come after me.”

“Then why haven’t you just yet?”

You turned your head, not wanting to respond.

However, Higuchi did it for you instead. “It’s because of Chuuya, correct?” She spoke out his name loudly, causing you to freeze in your position. “Y/N, are you in love with Chuuya?”

“It’s not that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your face. And of course, she’d ask that, but you were used to that question a lot at this point. “He was the one that came to me to begin with to get me in the Port Mafia; I just happen to call him a really close friend of mine.”

“Seems like he doesn’t see you as an only close friend.”

“I’d rather not talk about this right now,” you sighed deeply, waving a hand as you turned on your heel; footsteps audible as you continued down the dark hallway. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Higuchi followed behind you. “You are walking me to the Agency right?”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I think you have two feet and you can walk on your own, right?”

She didn’t find your response amusing and with her silence, you only continued to laugh out loud before shrugging your shoulders at her playfully. “I’m joking,” you said, tilting your head as she let out a deep breath next to you; both of your footsteps clacking on the floor as the scent of cigarettes poisoned your nose. “I’ll accompany you, I guess, but you’re doing all the work, yeah?”

“You as an executive…” she scoffed at that before you hummed teasingly at her, nudging your arm against her own. “Sometimes I can’t believe it, but I will continue to respect you as my higher-up regardless.”

“Come on, you don’t need to act so sophisticated around me,” you chuckled. “I’ll probably be finding my way out of the Port Mafia at some point if I’m being honest with you.”

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this information. I’m assuming the boss knows that you’d like to leave?”

“He definitely knows. But it’s not like Mori can do anything about it.”

“You’re staying because of Chuuya, isn’t it?”

You stopped walking before letting out an exhausted sigh. “Chuuya knows that I’ve been wanting to leave the Port Mafia for quite some time now. However, I don’t know how he’ll handle the news once he realizes that I will actually take my words seriously, like, you know,” you scratched your head, “walk out the door, for good?”

“I’m not going to tell you what you can and can’t do, but your presence in the Port Mafia itself has been nothing but helpful to all of us,” Higuchi explained. “Even I would like you to stay and don’t act like the boss won’t threaten you if you do end up walking out.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know that he will,” you shrugged, waving a hand at her as she scoffed in response. You turned your foot around the corner of the hallway as you began walking. “He has already talked about it all; torture this and that, all to get me to not leave this dreadful organization.”

Raising her voice, Higuchi questioned you. “And why do you not fear any of his threats?”

You felt a smirk rise up on your lips and you turned around, growing the smile on your lips. “Because he knows that I can easily take over this organization within a matter of seconds. Mori can threaten me all he wants, but he will never admit that he’s actually scared of me.”

Part of your body twitched; the cockiness could only go for so far. At least, it kept you confident in a way, though you weren’t wrong with your words. Hidden beneath the sharp eyes of Mori, he knew you were capable of taking control of the whole Port Mafia if you wanted to.

Though you swore to yourself that no one would ever die by your hands. (Even you could hear Mori laugh out loud in pure amusement from your own oath; much to his enlightenment.)

“Your ability is something to be feared of,” Higuchi responded, feeling herself sweat after your sinister stare at her. “Not even Akutagawa can be above you.”

“I rarely use it unless I need to,” you rubbed your neck. “When it happens, I try to make it as quick as possible. I don’t like using it—actually, I hate it.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s just…” your voice trailed off, and thoughts began to spill in your head before you shook yourself out of the dreadful patterns. “It just sucks, let me put it that way. I’m not a fan of it.”

Both of you reached the wooden doors in front of you and as you placed a palm on your hand, Higuchi reached out and placed her hand onto yours. You turned to her, seeing her serious expression with her lips tightened. “Y/N, if anything goes wrong during this plan, I know that Akutagawa needs you there to take care of everything.”

“The only problem is that there is a man that is an ability nullifier in the Agency, correct?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. “If that’s the case, I’ll need to be as far away from him as possible in order to use my ability—if I really have to,” you groaned playfully, earning an irritated glare from Higuchi.

“Don’t act so childish right now. I am being serious.”

“Whaaat, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes before you snickered at her annoyed stare. “Look, if I have to interfere with it all, it’ll be fine. I just have one question.”

“And what is that?”

“Who’s the name of the ability nullifier?” You asked with a sudden serious tone in your voice.

Higuchi gulped before turning away. “I’m not so—”

“Bullshit. I know you know the members of the Agency and so does everyone here,” you retorted, raising your voice as she took a step back. You noticed her behavior shift so you sighed and toned down your vocal volume. “If you don’t wanna tell me, then fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Do you think that you’ll be able to defeat him? Once he touches you, your ability is no longer activated.”

You smiled at her before turning the knob on the door. “Don’t worry. I think I’m stronger than whoever he is.”

❀ - ❀ - ❀

Walking in the hallways of the Agency’s building was brand new to you. Not to mention, you were blending in as a citizen in need of the Agency’s help. Although you were surrounded by basic paintings on the light neutral painted wall and the plants were decorated on the tables, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat uncomfortable.

“You’re doing all the talking, right?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows.

Higuchi nodded before she stopped her feet in front of a door that was named ‘Armed Detective Agency’ and you felt your body shiver reading the name. You weren’t sure if it was your anxiety boiling you up—which most likely was—or the coffee that you drank about half an hour ago.

It was most likely both, really, but—whatever.

She raised her fist up high to knock before you interfered, “wait!”

She turned to you, knitting her eyebrows in confusion and you gulped. “I—uh, I need to excuse myself to the bathroom.”

“Seriously?” She snapped quietly and groaned in a quiet tone. “You just want to get away from the job, is that it?”

Yeah. Most definitely.

“No, absolutely not,” you chuckled in a playful tone.

You walked away from Higuchi calling out your name in annoyance before the door had swung open. Snickering in amusement, you kept your distance from her as your eyes glanced further down the hallway. The doors all looked similar to their dark wooden tone from what you noticed and you raised an eyebrow, making your way further down the hall.

There wasn’t much to the Agency building, despite the usual offices that were meant to be for storage purposes and more. You found it amusing knowing that you were able to skip your way out of a job—let alone, in hopes of catching the Weretiger—though it was difficult to slip your way out of certain missions. It was usually inevitable; Mori kept you wrapped around his finger, always chanting on to others about your ability and you could basically hear the chuckles of the blonde girl, Elise, rewind in your mind.

It had been fifteen minutes since Higuchi had made her way into the office. Much due to your grogginess and annoyance with the Port Mafia, you slowly grew impatient before you decided to knock on the door. At first, there was a loud shuffling of movement—almost similar to a loud thud and a slam of another door from within the room—and then the front office door opened.

Your eyes met with a younger man, with grey hair as his hand nervously shook on the knob. “Ah, hi,” he anxiously greeted you.

Raising an eyebrow, you recognized his features from the past reports. Knowing that you were meeting with the Weretiger, himself, you only smiled and let out a forced chuckle. “My apologies for interrupting, one of my colleagues is in there with you, correct?”

He blinked. “Ah, yes! To talk about the suspicious activity going on around the area, right?”

“Yup! I’m sorry but she talks for a looot,” you joked before he moved aside to make your way into the room.

Your eyes darted at Higuchi who—somehow politely—glared at you before she proceeded to talk to—what seemed to be—the other Agency members that were sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

Higuchi didn’t make any comment at you and instead introduced you as one of her colleagues. It wasn't long until you hopped onto the act and then spoke about the unusual whereabouts and suspicious activity of the issues going on around the area where you worked. At first, your eyebrows knitted at the sight of a younger woman clinging onto one of the Agency members—clearly taken back by her tight grasp—whilst the Weretiger boy anxiously sat on the couch.

“Um…” your voice slurred out in confusion, eyeing the door to your left as you heard a lot of wailing and bantering from the other side. The voices were muffled—along with the harsh slaps that were very audible despite the closed door. “What’s going on over there?”

“Oh!” The slim young boy with orange hair chirped up, eyebrows raised. “One of our other colleagues was flirting with your friend over here… and let’s say another coworker of mine wasn’t too pleased about that.”

You laughed, turning to Higuchi. “Looks like you’re getting men swooped off your feet, aren’t you?”

A wink was sent towards her way as you smiled at her holding back a scoff. “We are here to talk about our issues to the Armed Detective Agency. Let’s move on from that incident.”

“Suit yourself,” you stretched out your arms before turning on your heel. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Wa—”

“Don’t take too long, now!” An exclaim left your lips as you finally heard her scoff.

Playing games with some of your colleagues from the Port Mafia can be fun.

Sometimes.

❀ - ❀ - ❀

Dazai swung his legs on his office chair, singing along to a song while Atsushi was fiddling with his fingers. He watched the grey-haired boy walk back and forth for the past ten minutes now as Kunikida went more in-depth about the current mission; well-suited for a newer recruit, as Kunikida reassured, though Dazai knew that there was going to be suspicious activity.

Nonetheless, suspecting that the Port Mafia was toying with the Agency was not a surprise for Dazai. Much to his intelligence, he only smirked to himself in satisfaction as he kept his hands resting on his headphones while keeping his head down on his desk.

“Hey, kid,” Kunikida’s voice called out to Atsushi, a photo loosely tucked in his palm. “Look here, memorize this picture and take note.”

Dazai looked up, intrigued by the conversation. Kunikida handed Atsushi a photo and sternly said, “if you see this man, run.”

The suicidal man knew exactly who Kunikida was talking about.

“Who is he?” Atsushi questioned, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“A mafioso,” Dazai responded quickly, lifting himself up to sit on his desk, not minding the crumbled papers and pencils rolling off the surface. “Honestly, we only call him that because we don’t know anything else about him.”

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Dazai kept his head down, allowing the muffled voices of his colleagues to fade out into the distance. Part of his past from the Port Mafia continued to brew inside him; stirring up a pot in unfortunate demise; Dazai never really dwelled too much onto his past. Not when your presence had almost gotten involved with his shenanigans, though the past had been tucked away for quite some time.

Dazai had moved on—to the Agency. A better man. He strived for it, even though, part of his blood still lingered on the old side of his mafia days.

“The man’s ability is designed specifically for bloodshed,” Kunikida said, still explaining the man in the photo to Atsushi. “The police don’t want to get involved with it and the military doesn’t. To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with him either.”

Atsushi gripped the photo hard. “What’s his name?”

“His name is Akutagawa,” Kunikida knitted his eyebrows as Dazai clenched his hands on his desk at the mention of that name. “But that isn’t all.”

“Ha, there’s more…?”

“There is supposedly a newer member of the Port Mafia who is just as dangerous as him.”

Atsushi scratched his neck anxiously. “Wh—what’s their name?”

“We aren’t sure,” Dazai responded, tilting his head to make eye contact with his two colleagues. “We just know it’s a young woman who’s affiliated with the Port Mafia. Her ability is unknown and we don’t know how dangerous she really is.”

For once, Dazai actually wasn’t aware of who the newer member was—only rumors spread around the city of Yokohama, whispers amongst the crowds and newspapers flaring about an unknown person that was a part of the Port Mafia. Not much was found about the newer member; it was nothing but a mystery to Dazai, which caused him to be intrigued.

Rarely, he found himself questioning the newer member since he hadn't met anyone back in his time in the Port Mafia that could’ve been just as powerful as those that he worked with in the past. It interested him, caused him to dwell more on the subject, though as much as he’d like to dwell deeper into the Mafia’s hidden secrets, it was best to keep his past tucked away—solely, for the purpose of an old friend’s wish.

And, perhaps so, to become a better man for you.

Wherever you were.

❀ - ❀ - ❀

You kicked the door to the abandoned apartment building, coughing as you wailed your hand around from the trickles of dust. Part of you cursed Akutagawa for choosing the dirtiest place to have you hide in, though you were aware it had been the best choice.

‘I didn’t even wanna do this,’ groaning to your thoughts, you sighed. Looking back at it, you knew that you didn’t want to participate with so many activities involving the Port Mafia. Childishly, you’d avoid them—a mere worker that was too lazy to do her job, really, and even bantered on about how you didn’t want to associate with any of the mafia’s future plans; such as capturing the Weretiger.

But you couldn’t blame yourself. As you placed a hand on the railing, continuing to cough from the clouds of dust, you scrunched up your nose at the flashes of bloodshed and unforgivable crime that the Port Mafia had affiliated with—such as hearing the words of Mori forcing your body to fall into assassination tasks though you only argued in response to him that you would never kill anybody and you’d swore an oath to it.

(Imagining the wicked grin on Mori’s face was unpleasant enough.)

To be stuck in an organization that had nothing but murder, extortion, and God, much more. This wasn’t the life you wanted. Nonetheless, the life you had from before. Such a shame that the normality that you once held had vanished, and now, your eyes laid down to the light scars along your wrist, marking every moment that your ability had been used during dangerous circumstances.

However, this mission would’ve been easy. Capturing the Weretiger—simple enough.

Nothing you couldn’t handle.

(And, rightfully so, Mori promised you a last-minute weekend vacation to not be pestered by any Port Mafia duties. Not that you’d do most of them if you were assigned to act upon them, anyway.)

When you reached a decent level, you managed to make your way into an empty, dirty apartment, and you walked into a bedroom. Sunlight peeked through, capturing your sudden attention from the darkness basking in the empty room. Walking to the window, you looked down to see that you weren’t too high up from Higuchi down below, who was holding her gun towards the Agency members.

You watched the scene unfold; eyes widening at the young girl from before, who clung onto the younger man with the orange hair, falling to her knees; blood gushing from her open bullet wounds. Slamming your fist against the wall, you gritted your teeth and kept your breaths steady.

“Fucking hell,” you snapped quietly. “Enough of this bloodshed. I’m so sick of this.”

It wasn’t long until Akutagawa swooped down to fight alongside the Weretiger. Your eyes darted back and forth, watching the Weretiger jump from the empty dumpster to attempt to land on Akutagawa, and even so, you gasped at the strength Akutagawa held. His Rashomon ability was strong; whereas you weren’t very capable of such physical strength.

No matter. The fight had been going on long enough.

And prickling your finger didn’t hurt as much as you’d thought it would. It had been a while since you used your ability, but in the case of Akutagawa’s stubbornness to keep the fight going, you weren’t surprised that you had to fall into play for the plan. Not wanting to dwell in the abandoned apartment any further, you eyed the small drip of blood trailing down your skin.

Eyes dancing along the tiny bit of red. You never thought that you’d get used to the sight of blood. Then again, a simple drop wasn’t meant to frighten you—or anyone, in that matter. Sighing, you felt your heart pick up its pace; pumping the blood through the course of your veins. Body falling into a higher temperature, not so much of a fever, but the growth of your ability has always kept your head warm for an unknown reason.

The sting of your pupils caused you to shut your eyes for a moment before blinking rapidly, watching the aura of red seep out of your skin while you watched the movements of Akutagawa outside in the alleyway. Part of you laughed at the splatters of red painted on the ground. ‘Always leaving a mess,’ you thought—not surprised by Akutagawa’s evidence of blood.

Breathing in deeply, your eyes darted to the Weretiger, frantically jumping from the dark walls of the outside buildings before your mind quickly retorted to one word.

‘Sleep.’

Within seconds, the Weretiger let out a defeated howl before tumbling down to the ground; eyes fluttering to a quick shut. Seeing Akutagawa down there made your fists clench as he tried to land a hit to the—now—sleeping Weretiger.

“Time for a nap,” you sighed.

Landing your eyes on Akutagawa from below, he continued to unleash more of his Rashomon power towards the Weretiger. Even Higuchi was frantically screaming that the Weretiger was asleep and could finally have been captured. You sighed, slapping your forehead before shaking your head.

Keeping your gaze on Akutagawa, you noticed the frustration boiling up inside him. Though he was taking it too far—and you weren’t sure if him attempting to fight a sleeping target was supposed to be him releasing his bottled-up emotions (whatever that could be) or that he was attempting to boost his ego furthermore to dwell deep into the satisfaction of impressing that older executive that he’d always obsess over.

It didn’t matter. The Weretiger was now asleep.

Squinting your eyes at Akutagawa, you exhaled in exhaustion.

‘Freeze.’

Within moments, the black-haired man stopped to his feet before he attempted to shift from his frozen movement. It was difficult to hear him from below, though you could practically hear his grunts since he knew that he was under your spell now. Of course, he was—as anyone would underneath the ability that you withheld.

You weren’t sure how abilities really came into play; a whole world where you were met with unique people that held powers that were indescribable to others. And you—out of misfortune—had to be given an ability that only Mori could tease and envy about. Perhaps that was the reason why he gave you the position of a Port Mafia executive rather quickly; maybe Chuuya was meant to find you since even you—yourself—had known the capabilities of your power.

If you wanted, a simple drop of your blood was enough to take over the Port Mafia, but at what cost? Not that your heart had set for a pointless dream; powers were one thing, though it became a nuisance—nothing but a traumatizing talent to bestow and flaunt about.

“Don’t fight against my ability, Akutagawa,” you murmured underneath your breath as he attempted to move from his frozen position. “I can control the mind and the movements of others so long as I sacrifice my own blood. You never really learn much, do you? You’re a really complex one, God.”

“Takes one to know one.”

A raspy voice was heard, followed along with a chuckle. The sunlight beaming in through the only window you were watching from was the only source of light to the abandoned room. Quickly, you turned around, grabbing onto the figure behind you, hidden within the shadows before you slammed the intruder to the ground; handcuffed around their neck as a cough echoed across the room.

Your eyes widened with a gasp stuttering out from your lips.

As if a grin was enough to make your heart swirl with the eyes of a familiar man—Dazai—resting underneath your grip as his hands clenched around your arm. The shakiness of your body was enough to cause you to loosen the grip though your mind remained intact with the current mission at stake.

“No way…” you chokingly breathed out.

“Hello, my belladonna,” he grinned. That damn smile. So proud of his cocky tone, as usual, and Dazai’s grip tightened on you before you noticed a flash of light blue that lit up the room. Within a blink of an eye, your temperature had died down before you noticed the red aura illuminating from your body had suddenly vanished.

With the shocked look in your eyes, Dazai kept that grin on his face before you turned, running towards the window, brushing past the ripped curtains. An electric bolt shot through your body, causing you to clench your fists at the movement of the—now awake—Weretiger fighting an even more frustrated Akutagawa down below; Higuchi left speechless from afar.

‘Dazai…’

Your thoughts trailed away before you turned around, not acting on instinct before your body leaped up to lunge at him and then grabbed ahold of his neck. Pushing his body against the wall, anger boiled up within you—and you weren’t sure if it was because he was the ability nullifier that you had just discovered about at that moment or, maybe, it was the realization that he was working with the Agency yet you were a part of a deadlier, terrifying organization.

Maybe it was because he left you so long ago without a word—no proper reason.

No matter what emotions you felt, all at once, the spirits of anger and sadness combined into one together, and tears filled up your eyes. Part of you wanted to pull him into a hug; a shitty reunion, yet this wasn’t the plan nor had it been what you were assigned to do. An ability nullifier. Osamu Dazai. Leaving you in speechless gasps, you shook your head as your grip tightened around his neck.

He chuckled loudly. So pretty—as his voice had always been. “My, my, I miss you… too, I guess?” Dazai said in amusement, raising his palms up to surrender. “Is this your way of flirting, my dear Y/N?”

“You haven’t changed,” you responded, biting your lip.

“I notice that you have,” he elevated his brows before letting out a sigh. “Buuut you’re in the way of my tiger. I’m here to retrieve him and my other colleagues, so would you kindly let me go?”

“You’re with the Agency…” you breathed out.

“And it seems like you’re with the Port Mafia,” Dazai smirked, almost finding the situation to be a comedic show for him. “Didn’t think that you’d ever fall into the acts of such an evil—”

“Shut up.”

“Ow, ow, oooow,” he whined dramatically. “You’re too harsh on my neck. Should’ve asked you to strangle me to death. You know that won’t be such a bad way to go?”

Gritting your teeth, tears slowly trailed down your flushed cheeks. “You really haven’t changed.”

“I’m sorry buuut—” Dazai choked on his breath after the hold on his neck became tighter. Though within seconds, your back was met with a harsh kick to have you tumble over him and then heave out breaths. Your body trembled on the dirty floor; rough coughs echoing throughout the blanket of darkness despite the window that portrayed a gleam of sunlight.

Hearing footsteps after Dazai had gotten up, you turned to him and then—without thinking—grabbed ahold of his ankle and he fell down to the ground again before attempting to rush his way up. Quickly, you loop your leg around his waist and then roll him over on the ground, causing your weight to shift on top of him with your arm finally meeting his neck.

Part of you didn’t want to do this. Fighting with him. It was almost unbearable, yet your body stung with so many dreadful emotions seeing this man once again. You didn’t dwell much into the fact that you would’ve reunited with him this way—realizing that he was your enemy and that no matter how much he acted from before, nothing was going to take away from the truth that he was with the Agency.

Enemy. That’s what Dazai was to you. Regardless of how bittersweet your tears tasted on the tip of your tongue, you knew that was the realization and you couldn’t back down from a mission. Or really, you could—but that would've left the hunt for the Weretiger after all this time to be completely wasted.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out.

Dazai kept his hands on your arm, clearly struggling underneath the weight of you on top of him, pinning his neck down to the floor. Disheveled brown hair sprawled out angelically despite the tensed-up situation you were both in.

Without saying another word, you closed your eyes, letting a cry be released from your lips. Dazai stared at you, completely breathless before you felt his palm on your reddened cheek. His thumb swirled around your skin; a warm touch to the overheated body you were in, and he wiped as much of the tears away.

“Don’t be,” he responded and you carefully removed your arm from his neck. Dazai didn’t make any sudden movements at you and instead, he helped himself up. You didn’t stop him this time. The enemy. That was what he was. A villain to your tragic story of being in the mafia. “Belladonna…”

“Get your tiger and colleagues out of here,” you quipped, keeping your head down.

“Y/N, listen to me.”

“What?” You snapped, pleading that he’d get out of your sight, yet part of you wanted him to stay.

Dazai adjusted his position before he threw his arms around you quickly, pulling you in for a tight hug. A faint dash of cologne lingered along your lips as his bandaged neck met with your flushed face. A tremble of your bottom lip caused you to close your eyes, not wanting to open them for any longer—for if this was a dream, you’d hope you would never wake up and only lay with him for as long as you’d wish.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Dazai spoke softly, petting your head. You nearly froze at his touch before you pictured that smiling face of his in your mind. “I’m very happy you’re alright.”

“I—I told you to get the Weretiger and your colleagues out of here,” your voice trembled in response. “Don’t worry about me. Ju—just get out of here.”

“Let me tell you one thing, my belladonna.”

“What now?”

He hummed delicately, almost easing your racing heart.

“I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Quickly, he stood up in a flash before exiting the empty room. Your eyes watched his figure fade into the dark shadows, your position shook, completely unable to move before your gaze slowly made its way down to the floor. Eyes meeting with the chipped wood before you let out a quiet sob—soft wails tumbled out yet it caused your body to tremble down into an unfortunate abyss.

It wasn’t long until you forced your way to the window from where you watched Dazai taking control of the fight between Akutagawa and the Weretiger. Like before, the flashes of light blue took control of your sight before you blinked as the bright illuminations vanished immediately. It seemed as if Akutagawa had fallen back, and you knew—fully—that Akutagawa was going to question the meaning behind Dazai’s sudden presence.

Despite how much your legs shook in complete shock after seeing Dazai once again, you made your way further down the abandoned apartment building to end up in the same alleyway where the others were having a simple chit-chat. Higuchi noticed your figure, waving out to you as her empty gun rested in her other hand.

Walking up to Akutagawa, he watched you before you sent out a tired look and turned away.

And facing the view of Dazai standing in front of you was so unsettling. It wasn’t how it used to be from before, where you shared smiles and giggles with one another—resting on rooftops as the stars danced above you and the late-night walks that he’d frantically skip down the streets on. Those faint memories of delight have faded into a fog; the harsh reality of it all.

“I’d expect nothing less other than you, Dazai,” Akutagawa snapped, furrowing his eyebrows at the tall man who kept his bandaged arms crossed.

You sighed, keeping your head down as your eyes were kept shut.

A scoff escaped Akutagawa’s lips.

“After all, you were a Port Mafia executive, weren’t you?”

Your eyes widened at his comment.

Y/N L/N'S ABILITY: Dracula - Capable of manipulating the minds of others along with being in control of their movements once she sacrifices some of her blood.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Avengers Ladies x Reader : What’re the Chances

Summary: The biggest accident turns into a night of unspeakable actions.

Warning: 18+ Implied Smut, Nudity, Language, Suggested Polyamory 

Request: Yes / No 

Word Count: 2,124

* * * * * * 

It’s dead silent.

Not a single sound comes from anywhere, even as you move about in the kitchen. You’re trying your best not to make a sound so that you don’t wake up the women asleep in your living room.

This very moment offers you time to fight your headache with coffee and process what the hell happened yesterday.

Steve and Tony had returned to the compound with a canister filled with some weird looking substance. The instant you saw the purple mist with spores floating through it you were intrigued. The scientist in you begged to test, study, and analyze it to find out exactly what it was.

It actually didn’t take much for them to turn it over to you, it is your job as the team’s scientist to deal with these things. So, while you locked yourself up in your lab, the guys of the team went out in search of the HYDRA scientist that created the substance.

Things had started off fine, you were well on your way to uncovering what the weird mist was and its effects. However, as you were releasing it into a larger containment unit, Carol, Natasha, and Wanda had taken it upon themselves to barge into your lab.

Carol and Wanda were bickering, Natasha chastising them, and all their loud voices had startled you when they came into the lab without warning.

Only you had caught your slip up. You literally slipped up, the canister detaching from the seal and allowing some of the mist to spill into the atmosphere before you could reattach it. 

Wide eyed, you watched each woman, as well as yourself, breathe in the seemingly harmless air, When asked why you looked so worried you brushed it off and got back to researching. 

In a way you were curious to see how the air affected you all, analyzing all of your behavior might give some clues as to what the substance does. And boy did you figure it out quickly.

Aside from the substance itself, the atmosphere shifted.

Their bickering stopped moments after they entered the lab, replaced by incredibly flirty words and sultry gazes. That was all it was in the beginning, until Carol ran a hand across Wanda’s shoulders and the back of her neck.

The blonde’s touches fanned the sparks into flames.

In the blink of an eye they were kissing, hands roaming to places that you were sure they hadn’t been before. Both women had been caught up in each other and you were worriedly intrigued, so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the redhead who snuck up behind you. 

Suggestive words slipped from her mouth like silk into your ear, accompanied by her hands wrapping around your waist and resting low on your belly, mere inches from slipping into the waist of your pants.

While you had been able to not react to the substance in your body, her gentle touch and whispered words seemed to bring the effects to the surface. A shiver raked up your spine, manifesting itself into a feeling that shot to your belly.

It was an incredibly familiar feeling that, due to the substance, you freely fell into.

Everything from that moment on was sexually charged. Hands roamed skin, moans and sighs filled the air, orgasms cursed through your bodies like lightning striking through the sky.

Clothes had been scattered about the lab but you all ended up in the living room of your private floor in the building.

You all fell asleep in each other’s arms, bodies covered in marks, completely blissed out arguably overly blissed.

When you woke up, your hand was cupping the breast of an all too familiar redhead, and the thigh of an equally familiar blonde was pressed up against your core that seemed to throb whenever she moved.

Last night sprung into your mind and you shot up, hand ripping away from Natasha’s body like she was fire. Apparently they were wiped out, admittedly you weren’t sure how you were awake either but that was the least of your worries.

After having scurried off to your room to shower and pull on clothes, you brought out a change of clothes for each of them and went straight to the lab. It didn’t take long, applying what you know, to confirm your suspicions. 

One hour testing it, told you what you needed to know and from the lab you went to the kitchen, where you still are.

Your coffee is gone, headache slowly subsiding, and based off the sounds in the living room, the girls are awake.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly make your way into the room. The confused looks on their faces turn to realization as they look at one another, and then all three sets of eyes are on you.

“Um,” you swallowed, clearing your throat,“ morning, I-I made coffee.” You stumbled over your words, not liking the feel of their eyes on you like that and trying not to look at them too long.

The image of their bodies will forever be ingrained in your mind. How you would manage to shake the feeling of their hands and mouths on you, you aren’t sure.

“Thank you.” Wanda mutters softly and all you can do is nod.

“I brought you all something to wear, what with your clothes being in the lab.” You suggest, glancing up only to catch Natasha’s blanket slipping from her upper body.

E/c eyes widen at the sight of her perky breasts and pert nipples, the memory of your hands on them playing in your head. A glance up shows her green eyes trailing your body and heat spreads over every part of you.

“I’ll give you a moment to change, feel free to use the bathrooms or my room or whatever.” With a nod to yourself more than them, you nearly scurry back into the kitchen.

Part of you, the cautiously curious scientist part, can’t believe you managed to infect yourself and your friends with sex pollen. While another part of you, the madly attracted to each of those beautiful women part, is beyond pleased with last night's events. 

The instant you know they can’t see you anymore, your face is buried in your hands.“ I have to tell them.” A groan falls from your lips, muffled by your hands.“ They’re gonna kill me.”

Using the last moments of your life, you fix them each a cup of coffee to their liking, maybe that’ll soften the blows. 

“We all had sex last night.”

You damn near spill every drop of coffee in your hands at the words bluntly spoken by Carol when you step back into the living room.

It’s clear, when Natasha and Wanda don’t react how you did, that this conversation was already in progress when you came in. So you try not to lose it, instead taking a deep breath, and walking over to hand them their coffee. 

The blankets are folded and sitting by the hallway entrance, all of them completely dressed now. You ignore the slight disappointed feeling you get and sit on the far end of the couch Wanda is on. When they all start to try and make sense of this you figure it’s time to say something.

“It was my fault, I did it.” You blurt out, eyes squeezed shut which makes you miss the soft smiles on each of their faces.

Natasha sighs,“ Y/n we can agree that you’re charming but if I recall correctly, we all did it.” She says, making you open your eyes.

“Yeah L/n, I most certainly did not go down on myself like that.” Carol smirks.

Wanda’s eyes widen along with yours.“ Don’t be so crude Carol.”

Shaking your head, you run a hand down your face,“ okay that’s not what meant, to clarify, I mean,” you push off to stand in front of all of them,“ the substance I was testing is a sex pollen. When you all came into the lab it scared me and some may have gotten in the air and infected us.”

“What?!” They each exclaim. 

Carol pushes herself up off the couch and glares at you. Wanda stares at you in shock. And Natasha raises a further curious eyebrow. 

The glaring blonde steps closer,“ what did you make us do?”

Your eyes widen, hands held up as if to calm her,“ I didn’t make us do anything. Sex pollen is complicated. This particular one enhanced the libido and lowered our inhibitions. But nothing was forced.”

“I don’t completely follow.” Wanda says.

Breathing in deeply, you exhale slowly,“ um, some sex pollens cause the infected to act without a single thought, cause their focus to only be on their sex drive, which could lead to them doing things they wished they hadn’t. This one though, as mentioned, just lowers the inhibition. Our brain's way of restraining us from doing certain things, sometimes things we want to do.”

“We did what we wanted to do, without second guessing it as we might have in the past.” Natasha says, eyes looking dead into yours. 

Hearing the words spoken makes a million and one thoughts surge through your mind and for that moment you recall last night, not the way their skin felt under your fingertips or how they tasted on your tongue, you recall the thoughts you were having.

There was this feeling of, finally, that coursed through you. Finally, you were able to kiss them. Finally you were able to hold them. Finally you could act on the thoughts you’d forced yourself to ignore. 

In Natasha’s eyes, you swear you see that same thing. 

Looking away, you say,“ I know none of us were expecting last night to happen and had I been more careful it wouldn’t have but we can’t exactly change it. A-and I mean, it helped me figure out what that stuff was.” You try to see the brighter side. 

“So, do we pretend this never happened?” Wanda asks. All of your eyes move to look at her at the faint sound of disappointment. 

Did she not want to? 

Carol quirks a brow,“ don’t sound so down sunshine.” She sends a wink to the younger woman, then crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tank top you’d given her.“ I can’t say I’m inclined to pretend.” The look she gives you let’s you know she caught you staring at her chest.

“Admittedly I had fun last night for a multitude of reasons and I’m not anxious to forget about it.” Natasha says, sharing a look with Carol before they both glance at you and Wanda.

Wanda opens her mouth to speak, only to bite her lip in thought. Those soft light green eyes look into yours, seemingly searching for an answer.

You shrug,“ I’m a terrible actress so pretending is out for me and if there’s a chance for a repeat of last night, maybe after a date or two, I’d be cool with that.” 

“Asking us out already L/n.” Carol teases and you chuckle. 

“What’re people going to say? What’ll the team say?” 

Wanda’s concerned questions grab all of your attention and you sit yourself down beside her this time. 

For the first time since last night you touch her. This time not it’s not driven by lust, instead by what could become love. Your palm lays on her knee, fingers on the side of it. 

“Nothing needs to be said about anything. We don’t even know what this is or what it could be-” you start and Natasha finishes for you,“ so there’s no reason to worry ourselves over this.”

Carol sits on Wanda’s other side and copies your action of placing her hand on the brunette’s knee.“ We’ll handle whatever anyone has to say when the time comes.”

The youngest of you looks around into each of your eyes, softening with each glance. You pull a small smile and that makes a bright one burst across her face. 

Your moment, that started last night, is interrupted. 

“Great you’re up, get anything on that substance?” Steve comes in, halting in his steps to take in each of you.“ Am I interrupting something.”

One look at Carol let’s you know that she was about to say yes but refrains from doing so. 

Chuckling, you squeeze Wanda’s knee and stand,“ yeah I got all the results in my lab Cap.” You wave for him to follow you, not missing Natasha’s last words.

“You wouldn’t believe what it took to get them.” 

With a smirk you glance back at her and she winks. 

You never thought you’d ever say it but, thank the gods for sex pollen.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows

[wreckmetoji]

idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader

Part 4/?

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

content warning. age gap, mention of sex, mild breeding kink if you squint, afab reader, profanity, slight angst, unrequited love, nobara being a supportive friend, mentions of domestic toji

This is part four of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

1.5k words

What can I say, I live to please. Besides..." "You ain't seen nothin' yet." 4:03 am is what the clock read by the time you had settled into your bed for some much needed, actual sleep. Toji had thoroughly fucked you over nearly every surface in your house that night, leaving no part of you untouched. By the third round, you had nearly lost all feeling in your legs and angry bruises were spotting the surface of your neck, thighs, and hips, the occasional hickey littering your chest. That didn't seem to stop the two of you from going another two rounds after that. What surprised you even more than his stamina, was the fact that he lay beside you in your bed, arm lazily draped over you as he slept silently. In all honesty, you had expected him to leave the moment he was done with you, recalling him saying at some point that this was just him throwing you a line, a simple no-feelings-attached fling to get your mind off the mistake you'd made the night before. For the most part, it worked, but some part of you felt disgusted with yourself for what transpired. When you woke up in the morning, Toji was gone. He had the courtesy to at least plug your phone in and place it on your bedside table, as well as lock your front door. How did he do that? Not seeing your phone for more than twenty-four hours meant you had a lot of messages and calls to catch up with, your chest squeezing slightly seeing that the most recent one had been a missed call and text at 2:47 am. It was from Megumi. By that point in the night, you were sure Toji had you bent over the railing on your balcony, but it was all hazy by this point. That same part of you that felt guilty for what, or rather who, you'd been doing all night is the part of you that texted Nobara first. Incoming call... "Nobara Kugisaki" "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, BITCH?!" Nobara screeched into the line, causing you to hold the phone at an arms length away as she hurled several choice insults at you. "We thought you were dead, no one's been in contact with you since you and Megumi left the bar," She chastised once she managed to calm down. "I know, I'm sorry. Some shit happened and... promise to keep a secret?" You whispered into the line, as if someone might be listening. You trusted Nobara with your life, Yuuji too but that boy couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. So you entrusted your drunken mistake with your mutual best friend to her, and her only. "I was wondering when he was gonna make a move," She sounded so nonchalant, as if everyone but you had expected this. "He's had a thing for you ever since our last year of high school. You didn’t know?" Her words made your stomach churn. Megumi had been secretly pining for years, and you went and fucked his dad. "That still doesn't explain where you've been since you got home, did you go into a coma?" "I was... busy." Nobara gasped, your name falling from her lips in shock. "No shit. Rebound, who was it?" You both loved and loathed that she could see through you so easily. You two couldn't keep anything from each other. How could you tell her this without making it sound as bad as it actually was? "He brought my phone over, and I was just in a really bad place emotionally..." The line was silent. "It was his dad. It was Toji." Unsurprisingly to you, Nobara was more intrigued than disgusted, considering anyone and everyone that went to the Fushiguro household thirsted for Megumi's hot, ripped dad. Although she had a lack of interest in men, she asked the obligatory spill the beans, what was it like? It took nearly ten minutes of just you talking to explain everything that happened, in as little detail as possible. "So that man banged you on every piece of furniture you own and turned you into his personal cum-stuffed twinkie?" Don't make it sound so crude. "More or less, yeah." "I don't see whats wrong with that. Just don't let Megumi know, he already hates his dad." You hadn't planned on it. Nobara and you caught up for another minute or two while you got changed, hanging up when she had to leave for her extra curricular classes. Now left with your thoughts, you sighed, wandering into your kitchen aimlessly. You cursed every couple steps because holy shit your legs hurt. Deciding it was too straining to stand, you sat at your kitchen island, your head in one hand as the other held your phone, your conversation with Megumi opened. [10:20pm]Gumi: I'm sorry.

[10:22pm]Gumi: There were better times to tell you how I feel, this is my fault.

[11:09pm]Gumi: You're the most important person in my life. Just know that no matter how you feel, I'll always be here.

[2:47am Missed call]

[2:47am]Gumi: I'll give you your space. Take care of yourself, please.

Shaky fingers hovered over the keyboard of your phone, nausea building up in your gut. You were about to put your phone down, leave it for later, before the three dots popped up, letting you know he was typing. He must've seen your read receipts.

[. . .]

[9:56am]Gumi: Thank god you're safe

[9:57am]Gumi: Can I call?

The call notification popped up before you could even send the message you'd typed out.

Incoming call... "Gumi Bear"

Your thumb hovered over answer, hesitating for just a moment before answering and bringing the phone up to your ear. You could hear the concern in his voice when he whispered your name into the receiver, a guilty knot twisting in your gut. "You don't have to say anything, I was just worried about you." There was a click on the other end, followed by some rustling. "You left so quickly, I was gonna come bring your phone but... it was probably best that I gave you some space. When my dad didn't come home I assumed it's 'cause he couldn't find you." A long sigh came from him, but your brows furrowed. Toji still wasn't home? The sound of your balcony door sliding open made you jump out of your skin, having to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent from screaming right into the receiver. From the phone you could hear Megumi calling your name, hearing the sudden commotion, completely unaware of the brief staring contest you had with the tall man stopped mid-step into your house, cigarettes and lighter in one of his hands, the balcony handle in the other. Both your eyes were wide, seeming to surprise each other. Had he been out there this entire time? "H...Hey, sorry, I... a spider, I saw a huge spider and it scared me." Mentally face-palming at your sorry excuse for your outburst. Toji seemed to find it entertaining as well, chuckling to himself as he slid the door closed. Megumi was silent for a moment, but ultimately accepted the explanation. He continued, promising he'd only take a minute of your time. You couldn't hear anything he was saying over the pounding of your heart as it leapt in your throat, watching Toji slide his shoes off and stride over to the kitchen, the flat of his palm brushing the small of your back as he passed by. "Let's just forget this happened, we can start over. Okay?" His voice dropped in tone, obviously hurt by the decision. "I think... I'd like that, yeah." There was a brief silence. "Okay, well," Megumi breathed in deeply, "That's all I wanted to say. I'll let you go. Text me if you need anything." A noise of affirmation came from your throat, the line going dead soon after. Small hands placed the phone face down on the countertop, hands overlapping on top of your phone as you stared up at Toji through your lashes. He didn't ask who called. The rest of your morning was spent with Toji, not much was said. It wasn't awkward, it was a surprisingly comfortable silence, for the most part. He'd made coffee and toast, his capabilities of displaying qualities of domesticity surprising you to say the least. The kitchen clock read 1:02 pm when he said he'd be leaving and you walked him to the door. As the two of you stood in the doorway, you found yourself unable to piece together the right words swimming in your head. Toji seemed patient, smirking with his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets as he faced you, back to the apartment hallway. "Well, um..." All night, and you decide to be awkward now?! "Thanks for everything, I guess?" You extended a hand, offering it to Toji for a handshake. The action made him snort, one hand coming out of the pocket of his soft cotton pants and placing it in the dip of your waist. Firmly, he tugged you closer to him, leaving a searing kiss on your lips. It was as fiery as it was short. He left you dumbfounded when he parted not a second later, waving as he walked down the hall. "Let's do this again soon."

[loving-all-for-loki]

May I request a little something? Reader is an employee at the compound and is super shy.. and gets teased by some of the other agents relentlessly. One of the male agents gets kind of aggressive to her because she’s walking through the training area and he starts shoving her saying how she doesn’t belong. But not realizing why she’s there; she’s meeting Loki for a lunch date and he sees someone unworthy treating his lover like trash. If you don’t mind 🥺

A/N: Omg, totally, I had so much trouble figuring out which Avenger would be this mean, but also I feel like Steve would go to the gym to let off some angry steam so I went with him. Two things: The beginning is slow so I apologize and second, I did change lunch date to dinner for continuity. <3 It might seem a bit chunky because I did write some of this last night while I was tired, so I'm sorry if the quality isn’t the greatest.

Also, you're my first request, this notification made me very happy. Request as much as you want :)

You Belong

Loki x reader

Word count: 2201

Warnings: small mention of violence, mean!Steve, Loki fluff

Y/D/N - your dog’s name

It’s not like you hate working at the tower. In fact, it’s the best job you’ve gotten in a year considering you’ve been doing retail work for six years, but as soon as you heard about an opening at the Stark Tower, you resigned and applied.

Simple enough, your job includes watching security cameras and sitting at a desk. Sure, you’re a receptionist, but not much happens so you usually go on your phone and smile at the Avengers as they enter the building. You’re not complaining since you’re not the most outgoing person and the gods know what would happen if you were to have to interact with any of the Avengers (probably you spilling coffee on them or stumbling over your words). Most people don’t believe you when you tell them your job, but after a couple of your friends brought you lunch and crossed paths with the heroes, they stopped teasing you.

You’ve always admired the heroes. Steve, Captain America. You were told stories about him when growing up so when news broke out that he was alive, you became a fanatic. Then came along Tony Stark who famously announced his status as Iron Man and then the presence of an actual god, aka Thor.

They’ve been okay with you in the past. You thought that because they were Earth’s Mightiest heroes that they’d be nice to you, but they often shit all over you. You’ve attempted to say hi to them before, but you get mixed reactions every time.

“Good morning Clint.” … .“Even my deafness can’t drown out your annoying voice.”

“Good afternoon Thor.” …. “Earthling.”

“Mr. Rogers, there’s a package for-” … . “just send it to the floor. No need for conversation.”

Bucky, who is known to most of the world as the quiet boy, will wave and say hi every so often. You think he only likes you only because of your quiet nature, not freaking out over them or treating them like gods. The other Avengers ignore your gestures. Most of the people in the building will get ignored if they attempt to talk to any of them, or if they make the mistake and attempt to approach Tony Stark who will insult them then demand them to pick up his dry cleaning. You’ve been on the wrong end of his antics before, but it’s amusing to watch him mess with people who don’t know not to talk to him.

The attack on New York was the most memorable day, not because of the debut of the Avengers, but because of the introduction of Loki. Everyone was scared, not knowing what his intentions were until the creatures came. You remember working that day at the Tower when they came flooding down. Windows broke and people were going crazy.

Like the idiot you are, you just hid under the desk and hoped for the best. You could hear the screams and echoes of crying around you. It felt like hours before they were gone. Finally gaining the strength to come out of hiding, you found the US army in the building with Loki in handcuffs. You got a good look at the god before he made eye contact with you.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes as the two of you stared at each other. You couldn’t tell his facial expression due to the muzzle like thing over his face, but the way he looked at you made butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t decide if he scared you or intrigued you. He sized you up, either in case he needed to fight you or he was checking you out. Then came more action.

There were double agents then Loki was gone. You weren’t even sure what to make of it. Months went by without the sight or even talk of Loki. Life went by like normal with the Avengers coming and going and your coworkers bitching about something that you didn’t concern yourself with.

Loki showed up one day out of the blue. Most people got nervous, but you felt the same feeling as the first time you saw him. You couldn’t even give him the same smile or wave as the others for a day or two, not wanting to look stupid in front of the powerful god. Picking up bits and pieces from eavesdropping on Mr. Stark, you found out Loki was staying with the avengers for a while as punishment for New York.

The thought of having to see the black haired god every day made you excited. There was something about him that was different from the rest. Maybe it was his power, or confidence, or even the way that he dressed. After a while, you mustered up the strength to wave to him as he entered the building, which shocked him the first time. He politely waved back, but then it became a habit. Then him buying you a coffee became a habit.

The first time you saw him drop coffee off by you was thrilling. You two became more than what you had with the other Avengers, every so often he’d even stop and talk to you for a moment. He learned your name, dog’s name, even your grandmothers. Your coworkers were stunned by the interactions, given the fact that you’ve never talked to any of them.

“Y/N.”

You look up to see the god saunter over you with a coffee in hand, Thor following close behind.

“I was wondering something.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you have a boyfriend, by any chance?”

“Of course she doesn’t. Have you seen… her?” Thor teases

“Go away, you lug.”

Thor rolls his eyes at Loki as he walks away, watching you two with a suspicious eye.

“I’m sorry for my oaf brother.”

“You don’t have to apologize. The Avengers see me as a burden.”

“That’s not right. You’ve been nothing but helpful, at least sine we’ve known each other.”

“I’m glad someone feels that way.”

“Anyways, you didn’t answer my question. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks as he asked the question and hoped Loki doesn’t see your embarrassed rosy tint. Although you try to not let the heroes get to you, Thor is right. You have no chance of getting a boyfriend.

“I’m not… I uh.. No, I guess. No, I don’t.”

“Wonderful, so I take it you have no plans tonight?”

“Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Perfect. Meet me in the Avenger’s living quarters at seven. Wear something nice.”

Loki’s words linger in your head all day until you’re in your bedroom picking out something to wear. You know Loki, he’s flashy, bold. Nothing you own is flashy or bold enough to match him, but he also said something nice so is flashy and bold the way to go? You let out a frustrated sigh when your dog comes to the sound. He starts licking your face, sending you into a laughing frenzy.

“I know, Y/D/N, you make things better sometimes.”

You pet him for another moment before returning to the current dilemma. Searching through your closet, you pick out a simple black truffle dress knowing black will work for any occasion. You settle on some gold earrings and red lipstick. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you pray to whatever god that you’re not overdoing or overthinking the situation.

The night floods over New York as you drive to the Avengers tower. Every possible circumstance flows through your head. Good ones like Loki being into you, the date going well, possibly marrying him one day. Then the bad ones like this are set up, he’s going to be rude, he’s going to be demanding and pushy. As you pull up to a red light, you slam your forehead on the steering wheel. What are you doing to yourself? This is the god of lies, mischief, after all. There’s no way this will be some normal date he asked you on.

Oh my god, he asked you on a date. You’re going on an actual date with an actual god.

You pull up to the tower and park. Bringing yourself up the courage, you get out and make your way inside. Most of the workers are gone besides the security and one receptionist, Katie, who is by far your least favorite coworker. She stares at you in shock at your appearance.

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that, missy?”

You get all flushed by her teasing, heading straight towards the elevator with hopes of no more interruptions. The attention you got from her was already too much. What if Loki makes a big deal? What if he goes on for what feels like hours about how you look? What if he doesn’t say anything? What if you’re not what he expected?

Trying to shake away the negative thoughts impaling your brain, you walk off the elevator as the doors open. Looking around, you realize you don’t really know where the living quarters are. You’ve never been on their floors before. Most of the time, the elevator won’t take anyone but the Avengers up there due to Tony Stark's well made A.I that practically runs the tower.

You wander the floor slowly, taking in every sight as you walk. You silently thank yourself for wearing small heels since you could hear a pin drop. The large windows display the night sky so well, showing every inch of New York below you. The light from the moon shines in the hallway as you make your way down.

A large thumping sound comes from the end of the hallway, drawing your attention to it and away from the scenery. Slowly, you make your way over to the sound, hoping it’s an indication of where you need to go, but it’s not like you know any better. The sound staggers, going off every so often but not consistently. You wander your way to a room with the door wide open, the sound emanating from it.

You peek in to see Captain America going at it on the punching bag. He’s shirtless so the lights reflect right off the sweat dripping down his body. You’ve always known the serum made him this buff super soldier, but the way his body is completely… perfect… is beyond you. Steve stops for a moment and turns around.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t be here. This floor is for Avengers only.”

“I was just meeting-”

“What with Tony? Are you just another one of his booty calls? I know you don’t speak much, since you’re all ‘shy’ and that,” Steve says, putting a sarcastic emphasis on ‘shy’, “but sorry to burst your bubble. Stark doesn’t date his receptionists.”

You are stunned into silence. In all of the teasing you’ve received from the Avengers, you’ve never had any of them treat you like this. You freeze up, not knowing what to say or even do besides fiddle with your fingers.

“Nat was right. You’re just some dumb secratary.”

That was the final blow. You back up quite quickly and go back down the hallway. You try to not mess up your makeup as you cry the whole way there. Steve’s scoffing is still able to be heard down the hallways until he comes up to you. He pushes you over, stumbling over your heels, as he walks away, muttering about you not belonging there.

As Loki exits his room, he hears a muffled cry from somewhere off in the distance. He wanders the halls to see you walking slowly towards him, trying to contain your tears. Anger eters his body as he storms towards you, raging at whoever or whatever made you cry. Then he sees Steve push past you in a hurried manner, muttering something to himself. Loki grabs his arm right before he can manage to pass by.

“What did you say to her?” he shouts.

“I told her she doesn’t belong up here. She’s a receptionist for goodness sake, not a very important one, but one that isn't allowed up here.”

“Did it ever come across to your small mind that maybe she does belong here?”

“How would she be?”

“Maybe because I asked her out on a date and told her to meet me here, but let me guess, you’re too shoved up your honorable and glorious ass to hear her speak?”

“Not like she speaks much.”

“And when did that ever stop you with the Winter Soldier?”

Steve stares daggers at Loki until he realizes the god may be right. Not wanting to admit his own fault, he scoffs and yanks his arm out of Loki’s grip, walking away to the showers. Loki looks back to see you staring at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. He’s not as great as he seems.”

“No, he’s right. I don’t belong-”

“Don’t you dare say that. You do belong here, as much as I do, especially when you’re with me.”

You smile as his kind words, feeling the desperate sadness fading away from your mind. Loki reaches out for your hand with a gentle smile.

“Now, I believe we have dinner waiting.”

[iam93percentstardust]

Hi, happy Shared Birthday Month, cause it's my birthday month as well!! Can I please prompt you a WinterIron, where Bucky and/or winter soldier is a science nerd and a massive Tony Stark stan? Happy with setting in any era, any rating 😄 Thank you! You are amazing and I love your stuff!

Happy late birthday! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this prompt but here is a cute no-powers au, featuring some minor Natasha/Steve and some science from a paper my lab group read in group meeting yesterday (check the ao3 story for the paper citation). Sorry I didn't come up with something more original for the science but this was on my mind.

As always, everything I write is also on ao3.

~

“Okay, Steve, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me—for us,” Bucky quickly corrects when Steve shoots him an amused look. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to sit quietly in the audience,” Steve says.

“And what are we not going to do?”

“Shout that our best friend would like to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane,” Steve dutifully repeats what Bucky has been telling him for the whole drive to the studio. He gives Bucky a sly smile. “Even if it’s true.”

Bucky swats his skinny arm lightly, enough to sting but not so hard that it’ll bruise Steve’s arm, which bruises like a peach. He still can’t believe he managed to win the tickets to watch the live taping of the one hundredth episode of Tony Stark’s show, It’s Only Science If You Write It Down. He’s been following the show since its first episode five years ago. Growing up, Tony Stark was to him what Britney Spears was to other kids. Stark was always in the news for his innovative inventions for his father’s company. Everyone had thought he would take over SI after his parents’ deaths, but instead he’d handed the company over to Pepper Potts, a then-unknown young woman working in SI’s financial department. Stark still held the majority of shares in the company but he’d turned his focus to becoming the next Bill Nye, along with his best friend. Bucky had stumbled across one of the articles about him when he was young and immediately developed one heck of a crush on him that hadn’t at all disappeared with age.

And now he’s here, attending the first ever live taping of Stark’s show.

It’d be a dream come true if only Steve wasn’t the one attending with him. Don’t get him wrong, Stevie’s great, but he’s also convinced Bucky needs to date more often and he’s very… enthusiastic about making sure that everyone they meet that Bucky thinks is even the slightest bit cute knows that.

Stark is the crush to end all crushes. He knows that Steve knows it. He also knows what Steve is like, and he thinks he’ll die of shame if Steve feels the need to let Stark know it too.

“You have your inhaler, right?” he asks as the line creeps forward.

“Yes, mother,” Steve sighs, patting his pocket. “And an EpiPen in the other pocket and my meds in my wallet.”

They’re reminded to keep their phones firmly in their pockets by the surly security guard—incongruously named Happy, according to the badge he’s wearing—at the front door and then ushered inside the studio, only to be stopped by a young woman with a clipboard as they’re climbing the risers.

“Hi,” she says with a sphinxlike smile that makes Bucky want to check that his wallet is still in his pocket. “Which one of you is Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh, that would be me,” he says, raising his hand slightly.

Her eyes catch on the silver sheen of his prosthetic. They don’t register anything other than idle curiosity, but Bucky still awkwardly tucks the arm away. It’s been almost ten years since the accident, but he’s still not used to the looks he gets when people see it.

“I’m Natasha,” she says. “Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. JARVIS noticed you when you entered the studio. Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you both that there’s been a change to the contest winnings.”

Dread starts to pool in Bucky’s stomach but it doesn’t have long to settle before her smile gentles and she adds, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. He just wanted to invite the two of you backstage after the show is over.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. Steve reaches over to close it and asks, “Why?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Natasha gives Steve a clear onceover, seemingly pleased by what she sees. “Mr. Stark wouldn’t like me to give away his secrets, but I’d imagine it has something to do with the way he spilled his coffee all over his front when he saw your friend’s picture.”

“Really?” Steve asks skeptically. “A notorious playboy tripping all over himself for this yahoo here?”

Natasha laughs, hard enough that Bucky mutters, “It wasn’t that funny.”

Once she’s calmed down, Natasha says, “He’s not as bad as you think. A lot of it is just reputation. And yes, as soon as he got a look at him, he was demanding I figure out a way to get him backstage.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Steve demands, taking an indignant stance.

Natasha hums, eyes going dark. “Oh no, you got invited backstage because I wanted to meet you,” she purrs. “I’ll come find you boys later. Enjoy the show.”

She saunters off, putting just enough of a sway to her step that Bucky suspects if he were attracted to women, he’d be mesmerized. As it is, he’s the one who has to reach over to close Steve’s jaw this time.

They take their seats and a few minutes later, Tony Stark and James Rhodes walk on set. They’re quietly talking to each other as the crew bustles around them, makeup artists darting up to make sure their faces look perfect. Stark is dressed in a t-shirt that says Engineers do it on the test bench—which is a terrible joke really and shouldn’t make Bucky want to laugh as much as he does—and well-worn jeans that perfectly mold to the shape of his bubble butt. Rhodes could be dressed in a paper sack for all that Bucky notices him.

Steve leans over and whispers, “You sure that I can’t yell that you want to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane? Natasha made it sound like he’d be open to it.”

“You do,” Bucky hisses back, “and I’ll tell Natasha you were looking at her rear when she walked away.”

Steve makes an indignant noise and sits back in his chair, sulkily crossing his arms.

“Quiet on set!” the director yells. “And… action!”

“Hi!” Tony Stark says, smiling right at the camera. “I’m Tony and this is Rhodey and you’re watching Disney Channe!”

“He’s kidding,” Rhodes says long-sufferingly. “You’re watching It’s Only Science If You Write It Down.”

Later, Bucky wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what the show had been about. He’d spent the entire show too entranced by Tony’s voice and charisma to pay any attention to the actual science, which is a bit of a shame. He really does like science—he wouldn’t be getting his PhD in physical chemistry if he didn’t—but he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony long enough to actually watch the experiment. It’s fine; he can always watch the show later when it’s released (and maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll have Tony to watch it with).

It seems like both an eternity and only a moment before the show wraps. Tony and Rhodes leave to thunderous applause, only coming back out for quick bows before disappearing backstage again. Bucky and Steve stay seated while the rest of the audience filters out slowly until Natasha comes to get them. She and Steve chat quietly as she leads them backstage but Bucky can only listen with half an ear; he’s too nervous about meeting his personal hero.

Rhodes is leaving the room Natasha leads them to. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots the three of them. “Good, you’re here,” he says, specifically looking at Bucky. “Maybe you can calm him down. He’s been bouncing off the walls since he saw your picture.”

“Really?” Bucky squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Really?”

“Really. He read all your papers last night—twice.”

“He has?”

Rhodes nods. “He really likes your piece on inelastic electron wave packet scattering.”

“Yeah? What did he—”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Rhodes interrupts. “I might be a rocket scientist but chemistry isn’t my preferred field of science. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get to.”

He pushes the door open, letting them in, and leaves. Natasha slips through the door, followed immediately by Tony saying, “Where are—oh god, they left, didn’t they? I knew this was too much. Nat—”

“They’re right outside,” Natasha says smoothly. She opens the door further, revealing the two of them awkwardly standing there. Bucky’s gaze darts around a fairly nice dressing room before finally landing on Tony, who is blinking back at him with a wide-eyed, slightly stunned look.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitches up in the tiniest of smiles. “Hi.”

“Great, now that that’s out of the way, get out,” Natasha says, giving Tony a shove so that he stumbles out of the room, right into Bucky’s arms. She reaches out and grabs Steve, pulling him inside. “Don’t disturb me for the next hour.”

“Uh,” Steve begins, but he doesn’t actually look upset by this turn of events, so Bucky doesn’t worry—too much, anyway.

He does, however, turn to Tony and ask, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Tony says breezily. “Natasha’s just very direct.”

“Right.”

Now that it’s just the two of them alone in the hallway, it’s a little more awkward. Bucky opens his mouth twice to say something, only to shut it again as soon as he realizes his question is stupid. For his part, Tony shoves his hands deep into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet.

Then the sound of what is obviously Steve moaning floats through the door. Bucky cringes and jerks his thumb in the direction of the door. “We should—”

“Yep,” Tony agrees.

They get all the way back to the set before they stop. They look at each other for a beat before dissolving into giggles. “Oh my god,” Tony says, clutching his sides. “I knew she moved fast but—”

“Well, Steve doesn’t move fast at all,” Bucky says, “so you can see where I’m a bit lost.”

That sets Tony off into another round of laughter. Bucky is calming down a bit so he takes the moment to admire the way Tony laughs with his entire body. It takes Tony a moment to realizes he’s being stared at. When he does, his laugh tapers off as he gives Bucky a lingering look.

“I’m Tony,” he says eventually.

“Bucky.”

“Wow, that’s really unfortunate.”

“You’re not wrong,” Bucky agrees. “Blame Stevie for that one.”

“Childhood friends, huh?”

“Literally played naked together in the kiddie pool.”

Tony grins. “That sounds familiar.”

“You and Rhodes—”

“Oh no, but if you ever get the chance to meet Janet Van Dyne, remember to ask her about the time she thought she could make a living selling mud pies.”

Bucky takes a moment to marvel that this is his life now, that Tony thinks nothing of giving him dirt on the most prolific fashion designer of their generation. “So, uh, Rhodes told me you read my papers?”

Tony’s eyes light up, and, wow, he looks really pretty when he’s excited. “Yes!” he exclaims. “I want to hear your thoughts on the—uh—the time-dependent density functional theory model.”

“I’d love to,” Bucky says honestly. He bites his lip. “Maybe over coffee?”

A delighted smile spreads across Tony’s face. “I’d really like that.”

He holds out his hand for Bucky to take, which he does. Tony’s hand is small and warm, fitting perfectly against his. They stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, until the surly security guard pokes his head around the corner and asks, “Boss, do you need me to drive you?”

Tony jumps. He shoots Bucky a sheepish grin and then calls over his shoulder, “No, I think we can walk, Happy.”

“Are you sure? There’s—”

“It’s only two blocks.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You know what, Happy. You should go see if Natasha needs you to drive her somewhere. I think she’s got a date too.” While Happy is distracted, Tony tugs Bucky towards a side door he hadn’t noticed earlier. “Come on,” he mutters. “Before Natasha decides to kill me for sending Happy to interrupt her.”

“You could not antagonize her,” Bucky points out.

Tony shoots him a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”