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msgexymunson · 9 months

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Forbidden Fruit Part 2

Description: Saying it's been awkward after your experience with Eddie Munson is an understatement. How will you survive a trip together?

A/N: WELL, you liked the first part so much I had to write part 2! Potential for a part 3 and 4 if you guys want it. If you do y'all better reblog ;)

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI or I'll tell a teacher on you, a LOT of angst, hella smut, fluff if you squint, voyeurism, spit play, hair pulling, fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex (don't be a dumb dumb) rough sex

4k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since your sordid encounter with your Dad's best friend. You thought about it every day, every hour. It has embedded itself into your mind like steel wool, an unscratchable itch that you're almost certain will never go away.

You'd only seen Eddie twice in that whole time. That was odd in itself, he only lived across the road. He was usually around every couple of days, even if it was to just have a coffee and a chat with your father. It felt very much like he was trying to make himself scarce.

The first time was barely even a glimpse; he'd been leaving his house as you'd been heading to college, driving there since it was close enough for you to still stay at home. You'd sent him a shy wave which was not returned. He just got in his car and reversed like a demon, tires screeching as he drove down the road.

The second time you were in the kitchen on your tippy toes, trying to reach the cereal that someone had placed on the top shelf as if to spite you. Feeling eyes on you, you looked around and saw him standing in the doorway.

"Eddie."

He ignored it, strode in and grabbed the cereal box with ease, slamming it on the counter in front of you with too much force making you flinch.

You tried again, fingers lightly resting on his arm.

"Eddie, I-"

"Don't." Was all he said, pulling his arm away as if you'd burned him. Tears had stung the corners of your eyes as he left without a look back. You'd abandoned your snack and ran upstairs to your room, to cry in peace.

So it was no surprise at all when you overheard your Dad saying Eddie was coming over to watch the game and it felt like your stomach dropped out from under you. You hid in your room, not wanting to face another gruff encounter whilst your stomach rumbled its dissent.

This is fucking stupid. He'd said that was it, you need to get over it. You shouldn't be scared to go into your own damn kitchen.

Steeling your nerves you go downstairs and start to make yourself a sandwich. You could hear Eddie's laugh echo from the TV room and it twisted a knife in your gut.

Your dad's voice rang out over the noise of the TV.

"You free next weekend Eddie?"

Oh fucking shit. You knew what he was talking about. You pray that Eddie says he's busy.

"Free as a bird, why what's happening?"

"Mandy's invited us to her lake house for the long weekend. You fancy a trip?"

Even from here you can sense Eddie's hesitation.

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea?"

"Why? It'll be fun! I'm sure Mandy's got a thing for you, you know."

"Yeah, sure, I suppose I could come."

Fuck.

********************

Cue the most uncomfortable car ride in your life, squashed in the back seat with Eddie and thankfully a duffel bag in between providing a slight buffer. He was hunched in his seat, barely making eye contact with you.

Your mom turned in the passenger seat to face you.

"You alright Hon? You've hardly said a word."

"I'm fine, mom."

"You know, Jake will probably be there, Mandy's boy?" She waggled her eyebrows at you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "he's a little, young for me."

"He's a year older than you! I thought you liked him?"

"He's fine, it's just… he's a boy." And I need a man. One particular man.

You couldn't fail to hear Eddie's snorting laugh that he tried to disguise as a cough.

As you arrive at the lake house, you rush out of the car to breathe air that wasn't laced with the scent of Eddie. Your thighs hurt from squeezing them together for the past two hours.

"Hey! Welcome!" Mandy's waving at you all as you get your bag from the car.

Your mom runs over and gives her a hug.

"Hey! So good to see you! Where's Jake?"

"Oh, he's come down with something, poor boy, he couldn't make it."

Well, there goes the plan you had wistfully thought of to make Eddie jealous.

Mandy shows everyone to their rooms. The lake house is gorgeous. Mandy must have gotten some huge settlement from her divorce. Your room is small but comfortable, a double bed, wardrobe and side tables all in a deep wood. The walls are wood panelled too, carvings of little animals and leaves all over. It puts you in mind of being in an enormous cuckoo clock.

Changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel and head towards the lake for a swim.

This felt better. At least you could cool off, trying to escape the heat from the sun as well as the heat between your legs. The water is crisp and cold as you swim until you're shivering.

As you exit the water, arms tired, you look up to see Eddie on the deck, watching you.

You need to speak with him, try and clear the air. Moving towards him he stubs the cigarette he'd been smoking out and turns on his heel back to the house.

Anger started to bubble up, acidic in your throat. How dare he give you the most amazing sex of your life and just throw you away like some slut. You'd eaten in your room that night, feigning exhaustion.

Tip toeing out to grab a drink from downstairs thinking everyone had gone to bed, you hear the tinkle of laughter.

There he was, sitting on the couch with Mandy. She was fawning over him pathetically, her hand stroking his arm that rested on the back of the seat.

Great. Just great. Now he'll fuck Mandy and get married and live right opposite you with her. Fantastic.

Grabbing a water you flounced off to bed in a huff.

********************

Sitting up at the breakfast bar, you'd plastered your bravest face on and ate some pancakes, cutting them into little pieces and nibbling like a rabbit.

Eddie sauntered in, saying good morning to everyone, then he was taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you.

"Morning sweetheart."

You flashed angry eyes at him, and looked away, delivering a clipped "morning."

It was enough to shut him up. He filled a plate with pancakes and bacon, picking up a rasher and tearing into it with his teeth. Then he did the same with a pancake, ripping it into four and shoving a piece in his mouth.

He looked like a caveman. It was half amusing, and half a turn on. Watching him eat like an animal was doing something for you.

Mandy looked less amused.

"Um, there is cutlery, right there." She snipped.

"I know." He ignored the knives and forks, picking up the next piece of bacon and plunging it into his mouth. Your mom and dad shared an amused look.

He licked bacon grease off his fingers while looking straight at you, making your cheeks rapidly grow in heat. All you could think was that you wanted to wrestle that piece of bacon out of his mouth with your tongue, to smear your greasy lips together and have him throw you down on the counter top and fuck you until you see stars.

"Just going to get ready." You mumble, excusing yourself.

God damn why am I so wet? A shower, that'll help.

You stand under the stream of slightly too cold water and try to wrench the images away, but they are coming thick and fast.

Greasy fingers running over your skin. That tongue turning you into a whimpering mess. Plates smashing on the floor, food flying everywhere as he lifts you on the counter top and fucks you like an animal. The shower head was looking extremely tempting right now.

Right, get it out of your system, then face the day.

You unclip the shower head and turn the heat up slightly, moving the warm stream of water to your expectant lips. The water makes you gasp as you move the shower head around, finding your clit with a whimper.

And then the door flies open. Eddie stands there, frozen, face blushed the deepest pink.

You shout, "don't you know how to knock??" At the same time Eddie's rather hoarse voice yells "are you trying to kill me??"

Quickly exiting, he slams the door shut.

You hear your father call up to ask what's wrong. Eddie's muffled voice responds.

"Nothing, I just made your daughter jump."

The clipped emphasis on the word daughter rings in your head. You're unsure for whose benefit that was.

Am I trying to kill him? He's the one that barged in on me!! Why the fuck is he upset?

For the rest of the day you ignore him, opting to spend some quality time with your mom, attempting to push the weird encounter out of your head.

In the evening your parents announce they are going into town to a bar with Mandy.

"Eddie, you coming?" Your dad asks.

"No, I'm good, got a headache. Think I'll have an early night."

When everyone leaves you retire to your room, putting on some music and reading a book. You start to drift away, losing yourself in the words, feeling comfortable and less on edge.

There's a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it, you flick to the next page. Another, more insistent knock. Huffing and pulling your silk dressing gown around you, making sure everything important is covered, you shout out.

"Yeah?"

The door opens, and Eddie's standing there, looking very sorry for himself. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, muscular frame and tattoos fully displayed.

"Can I come in?"

"So you can knock. What do you want?"

"Look, I want to apologise to you, I've been acting like an asshole."

You nod in agreement, eyes going back to your book, words a blur.

"You really have a headache?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Mandy kissed me last night, invited me back to her room."

Why the fuck is he telling you this?

"Oh yeah? how was she?" You spit back, venom lacing each word.

"I wouldn't know, I didn't go."

Speechless, you return his gaze. He comes into your room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn't move any further.

"Sweetheart, I can't stop thinking about you, about what we did. I've been fucking my fist like a teenager thinking about you. That's why I've been avoiding you. I smelled your perfume the other day and I got fuckin' hard. You weren't even there. It's pathetic."

A small smile creeps onto your face, smug to have had such an effect on him. You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands as he explains further.

"I really want you, but we can't do this. It's so wrong. If your dad finds out I'm a dead man."

"Hey, he'll kill me too!" You respond.

"No sweetheart. He'd be disappointed in you. I'd be blamed for it. For- for defiling his daughter!"

You laugh out loud at that and his lips quirk into a nearly smile.

"You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. I kissed you first."

"True, but I asked. If I hadn't-"

"Eddie, trust me, sooner or later, I would have jumped your bones."

"Really?" He asks, surprised.

"Really. You're super hot." You admit.

His hand rubs the back of his neck compulsively. You see the nerves then, etched into his features, deepening the fine lines on his face.

Just his sheer presence is making your pussy pulse.

He walks over to you, standing over your form. Staring up at him, he looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"We can't do this, you know." He says again, but his hand is reaching to the tie of your dressing gown, pulling it undone. The flimsy fabric parts down your middle, showing a sliver of skin from your chest to your navel.

You nod back, breath hitching in your throat. "Yeah, we really shouldn't."

You let the dressing gown slip over your shoulder, exposing your left side, pert breast on display. Eddie groans.

"This is wrong." But his hand has other plans, sliding the other side off of your shoulder, so you're sitting there completely naked for him, gown pooling around your back.

"Yep. Super wrong. Naughty." You say, legs parting slightly. Eddie's smirk is debaucherous as he sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs even wider.

Preamble forgotten, he forces his head between your legs and licks a fat stripe up your cunt. Throwing your head back at the onslaught of his tongue, you dig your heels into his back, forcing him closer if it were even possible.

"How the fuck," he says between dirty kisses to your clit, "do you taste so fucking good?"

He doesn't seem to want an answer, and you're entirely not in the position to provide one. You just mewl and buck into his face pathetically, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping on.

His tongue is everywhere, devouring you. It's messy, messier than you ever thought getting head could be. You could feel his spit and your own juices dripping down the crevice of your ass.

Legs quivering, you moan wantonly, gripping onto him with everything you have. He's moaning into you, almost as loud as you were.

Then he's pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit, his firm hands gripping your ass, grinding your body against his face. The pure, unbridled need pouring from him had you toppling over that edge.

"Holy fucking shit, Eddie!"

The intensity and power of your orgasm shocks you to your core, spilling out in a slew of profanities, limbs twitching uncontrollably.

Eddie doesn't stop licking into you until you drag him away by his hair.

Eddie's face is a picture, dripping with slick; his smile is broad, lighting up his face as if he'd just been to heaven and tasted the finest ambrosia.

He leans over you, hooking one finger into your mouth, pulling at your jaw.

"Open."

Your jaw flops open at his command. He spits then, directly into your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you taste the savoury edge of his spit intermingled with the sweet tang of your cunt as it slides down your tongue.

"Swallow." He orders, eyes dark.

You close your lips around his finger, swallowing hard and sucking the tip of his finger.

"Fuck you are perfect, my dirty fucking girl." He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You moan at his words, breath speeding up, feeling dizzy and hot all over.

"You like that don't you? Being a dirty girl?" He smirks.

"I like being yours." You admit, feeling slightly bashful.

He cups your face gently with his hand, a queer look in his eye, before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "mine."

Writhing under him, pinned by his body, you can only whimper as he sinks teeth into your neck.

Pushing a needy tongue in your mouth, he gives you an earth shattering kiss, of salt and cigarettes and sweetness. You reciprocate, hands running over naked flesh as you push your chest against him.

"I need you. Now." He says as he climbs off, frantically pulling his sweatpants off and flinging them to the side, his impressive member standing almost painfully to attention.

You give a startled yelp as he grabs you by the ankles and flips you over.

"Hands and knees for me, my good girl."

You scramble on all fours, waiting for the breach of his tip, when you feel his thumb press on your asshole.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You shout. It had made you jump, but you couldn't deny that you liked it.

"Bet you'd let me fuck you in the ass if I asked sweetheart." Entirely unprepared for that, you whip your head around. He just laughs.

"Don't worry, not tonight baby." He says as he rubs his tip over your folds, spreading your wetness even further.

Then he's pushing and pushing into you, balls deep. You both let out a groan of satisfaction as he starts ploughing into you hard and rough.

"This pussy is fuckin unreal," you hear him mutter behind you, gripping on your hips so tight its bordering on painful. You allow yourself to be used, pushing back into him as much as you can, but it's impossible keeping up with his brutal pace.

Feeling your hands stiff against the bed, your elbows are shaking, on the edge of giving up. You feel Eddie's hand gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and twist it in his hand, pulling you upright. A lightning bolt shoots down your spine at the animalistic gesture.

He's now hitting that sweet spot inside you on each thrust, the slapping of skin and slick echoing through the room with your pornographic moans.

"Oh God, Eddie, I'm gonna come-"

"No, no please," he slows, letting go of your hair, making you fall to the bed.

"I need to see it, I need to see you. Turn around."

You turn, feeling him slip out of you, and shove him to the side, hard. It takes him entirely by surprise and he falls onto his back, hands up as if he's afraid he did something wrong.

Taking his shock as an opportunity you clamber on his lap, gripping his swollen cock hard at the base, lining him up with your entrance. Eddie's look of surprise turns into a lecherous grin, hands resting on your waist.

Sitting on him, sheathing him once again within your silky walls, you look him in the eye.

"How dare you mess with my orgasm again." Your words are hard, but you're smiling.

He laughs, rubbing at your hips.

"Oh I'm sorry, my poor sweetheart," words positively dripping sarcasm, complete with pouting lower lip. Clenching around his cock, you struggle to even register that him mocking you is such a turn on.

You push at his chest with one hand, and start grinding into him, firm and slow. Eddie looks like he's about to bust already at your movements, eyes darting from your own, to your tits, to your cunt.

"What- what were you thinking of? In the shower?" His words have a quiver to them, a flash of pride bursts across your chest at the fact you're doing this to him, getting him in such a state.

"I was thinking," you say breathlessly, "about tongue wrestling that bit of bacon out of your mouth and you fucking me on the kitchen counter."

"Fuuuck" He replies, eyes rolling back, "you are something else."

All of a sudden it's hitting just right. You don't feel like you'd moved but it's definitely different. Your whole body is buzzing with sensation as you roll your hips against him. Needing to grip onto something, anything, you don't risk changing the angle and instead twine your fingers into your own hair.

"Oh my God, oh fuckfuckfuck!"

Eddie's mouth hangs open as he watches you unravel. You feel your entire body pulse out what may be the best orgasm of your life. It rolls in waves around you, over you, through you. Grinding down hard, you keep it going. And going. Until it stops, or nearly stops. It's as if you are looking down at that edge yet again, on the brink of falling off.

"Fuck Eddie don't you dare move," you struggle out, rubbing over him, juices squelching obscenely with each thrust of your hips. He's beyond words, just biting his lip and nodding.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna come again, oh!"

Screaming into the night, it forces out of you again, almost as powerful as the last one. Your whole body is shaking like a leaf, completely stunned. Realising you're still gripping into your hair, you let go, feeling a sting on your scalp.

"Holy shit." You laugh out, limbs convulsing of their own accord.

"That was, fuck sweetheart, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

You smile, fingers stroking up and down his chest.

"Think you can give me one more?" He asks, eyebrows raising.

"Eddie, I don't-"

"Shh, sweetheart, just one more, I'm gonna come, come with me."

You begin to grind, moving against his length once more, clit dragging across slickened hair making you whimper. Your legs are protesting but you want to give it to him.

He helps you, hands on your hips dragging you back and forth, praising every thrust.

"That's it baby."

"Just a little more."

"You can take it."

"My good sweet girl."

Until you release again, together, wetness squirting out of you, voice hoarse with a stuttered moan that seemed to bubble up from deep inside your chest cavity. Eddie groans out, hissing at the feeling as he releases his cum deep into your cunt.

Melting, a puddle of a woman, your body pours over his, bones a distant memory.

"I think my soul left my body for a minute there," you murmur into his sweaty neck. His laugh rumbles from his chest and vibrates into yours, hand resting sweetly on the back of your head.

Both laying there for a minute, you know what needs to happen, but you're loath to admit it. Reality is looming and neither of you want to look it in the eye.

Eddie breaks the spell.

"I need to go sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know." You whisper back. Neither of you move.

"Did you mean it?" You ask, voice as small as you can muster.

"What?"

"That I'm yours?"

You feel Eddie's breath, the silence stretching just a little too much. You stop breathing in anticipation. Finally, he responds.

"Yes. Yes I meant it."

Masterlist

Tag List (If you want to stay on the list, please reblog!)

@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @hollster88 @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic

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racinggirl · 3 months

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promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagines #lando x reader #lando x you

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discoursecatharsis · 9 months

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I've noticed this pattern with antis in fandom where, in their attempt to distance themselves from anything and everything "problematic" in their fandoms, they refuse to acknowledge when they DO enjoy something problematic. Therefore, they don't recognize the problematic elements of the ship, character, media, etc. They'll also heavily downplay or deny any problematic. aspects of their favorite fandom thing.

I just saw an example of this and it is blowing my mind right now and I need to share this with y'all.

It involves the comments on this video.

youtube

Some context for Princess and the Frog: the blonde girl is Charlotte, also called Lottie. She's the main character Tiana's best friend. Charlotte's goal was always to marry a prince, and she almost marries (who she believes to be) Prince Naveen, but once she sees that Naveen and Tiana are in love, she tries to help them turn back human so they can be together.

At the end of the movie, Tiana and Naveen get married, and this scene plays after. Charlotte dances with Naveen's kid brother, and says "I've waited this long" in response to him saying that he's 6 and a half years old.

Now Charlotte's line here, if you look at the context clues of her story line, implies that she's saying "I've waited this long for a prince to marry, so I can wait longer for Naveen's younger brother to grow up." It's just a joke. Albeit, a joke that many will find to be very uncomfortable and inappropriate, but a joke nonetheless. I highly doubt Charlotte is actually going to "wait for" this child to grow up to marry him. She's making a joke at her expense, about her desperation of her dream to marry a prince.

BUT FOR SOME REASON.... many of the comments are like "she means that she's been waiting to DANCE with a prince."

I'm completely and utterly serious y'all. Here are some of the comments along those lines, with thousands of thumbs up each.

If you've seen this movie, you'll realize that these comments make absolutely no sense for more than one reason.

1) Charlotte danced with Prince Naveen (or at least with the villain disguised as him) earlier in the movie. She danced with a prince already. Why would that still be her dream if she already accomplished that?

2) Lottie speaks multiple times (during her childhood and in present day as a young adult) about her dream of "marrying a prince." Not dancing with a prince. Not meeting one. No, she wants to MARRY A PRINCE AND BE A PRINCESS.

This video has some clips of her saying this, at the time stamps 0:20, 2:52, 4:08, and 5:21.

youtube

Charlotte does give up her dream of marrying Naveen specifically for Tiana, because she see that he makes Tiana happy. But with how she jumps in like a wide receiver to catch the bouquet at Naveen and Tiana's wedding, it's clear she still has her dream of marrying *A* prince, just not Naveen.

But back to the comments on that video.

The comments seem to be downplaying the actual implication of her line. It's almost like they're desperately trying to ignore what she actually meant and make it more wholesome because they don't want to admit that their favorite movie has an uncomfy and inappropriate joke.

It's disturbing that this is yet another example where people in fandom (who are fantis or have been influenced by that fanti mindset) are downplaying a scene (or a ship, trope, etc) that is ACTUALLY problematic because they personally like the movie or the character and they don't want to admit that it has some issues. Instead of just admitting "yeah that scene/line was kinda fucked up and gross," they are jumping through HOOPS to make it seem more innocent than it was. And this is completely blowing my mind and is honestly concerning.

If you want to personally interpret it in a different way, in a way to make it more palatable to you, be my guest. That's what fandom and fanon is all about and I do that a lot too. But to see so many people outright deny the actual implications of this line is... bizarre af. It's one thing to be like "hmm yeah I don't like that, so I'm going to personally interpret this ship/trope/scene differently so it's more comfortable to me." It's another thing entirely to be in complete denial and ignore the actual context of the character and their story.

Also, so many of the other comments on the video aren't even commenting on the actual scene or on what Charlotte said. They're just generic comments on how much they love Charlotte as a character or how they miss this 2D animation. It's like they're trying reallyyyyyy hard to ignore the joke that's being made.

On the grander scheme, this is concerning because these people are refusing to acknowledge something that's inappropriate at best and predatory at worse (an adult "waiting" for a child to grow up) because they don't want to be caught enjoying/supporting something "bad."

All their talk about normalizing and normalization, but they're the ones kinda normalizing bad things by downplaying them or being in denial of it when it's in THEIR favorite media. And that is very concerning and a big issue.

#throwing salt #uh what other tags did i use to use? I legit can't remember #fandom discourse #fantis #Youtube

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mr-jack-letterman · 16 days

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HELLO HI

God I love the Submas fandom, all of you are so nice <3

In any case, I have a silly Au for y'all to munch on.

Allow me to introduce you all to Covalent Twins :]

Covalent

Adjective

- Relating to or denoting chemical bonds formed by the sharing of electrons between atoms.

Or in this case, the sharing of Emmet between 2 Ingos from different timelines NSNDNNDDD.

This Au is essentially the answer to the question: "doesn't being sent to the distant past inherently mean you are also now long dead in the future you just left?"

The answer is yes and no btw

The explanation for this involves a lot of time nonsense that I'm very bad at explaining but the Tldr is basically this:

When Ingo gets sent to the past, this creates a connection between the past and the future. This makes time get all fucky and split into two separate timelines (Timeline A and Timeline B)

Timeline A:

Time in this timeline runs parallel to the future as long as Ingo stays within it (essentially, if Ingo stays in the past for 2 years, then 2 years pass in the present).

Due to this connection, Akari (aka Dawn) gets sent to this timeline (But not Timeline B) and the game events of PLA play out (+ a lot more Ingo bonding because uncle Ingo supremacy)

Akari manages to get her and Ingo sent back home with the power of Arceus, causing both timelines to merge back together again into one cohesive line with only the events of Timeline B being remembered by history.

Ingo and Emmet get their happy ending.

This Ingo got sent to Hisui when he was 29, stayed there for 2 years, and went home when he was 31.

And Timeline B:

This timeline was created as a cannon fodder timeline so Akari and Ingo can keep doing time shenanigans in Timeline A without disturbing the space time continuum even more.

This timeline is therefore not connected to the future the same way Timeline A is.

The Ingo of this timeline (Nicknamed "War" or "Warden" for simplicity.) lives through the PLA game events but with Rei taking the place of Akari.

War doesn't bond with him the same way Ingo does with Akari because Rei isn't a faller.

The events of the game are the exact same (minus the Arc phone, Rei taking the place of Akari, and catching Arceus).

Despite Rei calming the nobles and catching Palkia and Dialga, he is still not the chosen hero. Warden is unable to go home or regain his memories.

Warden lives in Hisui and serves as a warden for the Pearl Clan for a total of 7 years before dying alongside his partner pokemon, Gliscor (nicknamed Nimbasa), while protecting Lady Sneasler from a Zoroark attack at the age of 36.

Warden drifts as a ghost for many years, with only Nimbasa the Gliscor as company. He watches his friends grow old, and eventually die. They pass on to the afterlife, but Warden stays on earth, wandering the Alabaster Icelands and Mount Coronet, searching for people from a life he can't remember even in death.

Warden watches as Hisui changes into Sinnoh. Jubilife Village becomes Jubilife City. Pokemon species die out and new ones are born.

As the world slowly becomes more and more familiar, the great Sinnohs, Palkia and Dialga, take pity on the lost warden, and decide together to lead him home.

It may take 150 years, and many miles of travel, but Warden is pulled by an unknown force towards the Unova region. Though he is unable to touch anything or speak to anyone, it's all so painfully familiar.

He is pulled towards Nimbasa city, (ah! That's where he got the name from!) and eventually to an apartment.

There, he is greeted by a young girl, barely 17. A man in black, who looks exactly like him, give or take a few years and a few scars.

And a smiling man in white. The man he has been searching for for over 150 years...

And they're staring at him, truly staring at him, not through him.

Why is the man in white crying?

*evil laughter.mp3*

So yeah! The twins have an older brother now :D

I mean he's dead and also Ingo just 5 years older and from a different timeline but still!!!

If you've made it this far I believe you deserve a gold star ⭐ and also some art for your troubles.

So here's War and Nimbasa ↓

And some fluffy interaction between War and Emmet as a bandaid.

If you guys have any questions regarding how this Au works, or are interested in seeing more of it, don't hesitate to shoot me an ask :D

I hope I enjoyed reading about my silly Au, even if it was a bit long lol.

*fades back into the void of Submas fics.*

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itsgrimeytime · 1 month

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drunk on you (part one) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: mentioned infidelity (Shane and Lori), strained relationships, loss of friendship, mentioned pregnancy (Judith), divorce, alcohol, mention of gunshot wounds, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: y'all remember when he was drunk that one time? this is built off of that. also no apocalypse, just normal life. Enjoy :))]]

A long time ago, you met Rick Grimes.

He wasn't the kind of teen that was awkward, like maybe his arms were too long for his body -no. Rick Grimes was broad-shouldered and built like he was on the football team -even though you weren't exactly sure he was. Shane Walsh, his best friend, was the same -both unbelievably picturesque. You were a human then, so you'd had a thing for Rick, but then again, every single person in that school did.

And one day, he approached you with a grin, "Apparently you're really good at this?"

You tutored him, and your friendship just spiraled from there. The two of them became a trio, and despite insistent Shane's flirting (not that he meant any of it), your heart stayed consistent.

Even throughout college (or the police academy for them), they would come onto your campus for lunch -always stealing bits and pieces of yours. You could clearly remember meeting Rick's eyes over the table and your heart flipping in your chest; before he could notice though, you'd flick a piece of your lunch at him. He'd laugh then, and you'd move on.

They were there with you through life, boyfriends (who they often threatened to 'take care of'), heartbreaks, and failures.

You weren't there when he met Lori, but you were there when he introduced her to the group. She was picturesque beauty, just like him and Shane were picturesque handsome -they suited each other really well.

That day, you'd been strained and Shane could tell -he kicked up the flirting to a hundred, and you spent the whole time pushing him off and cussing him out. You didn't tell him, not verbally, but you knew he knew. And you trusted him not to tell.

Even when they got married, your lips stayed sealed. You were at the wedding actually, it had been a day you couldn't decide on. Half the day you were happy for your friend, and the other half, you felt like your heart had been stomped into the ground. You cried in the bathroom a few times, and Shane hovered close by.

He seemed to understand your pain a little too much, but you never got the courage to ask.

You were still trying, though, and had honestly become friends with Lori but you still felt your grasp on the group loosen. They were leaps ahead of you, both Shane and Rick in stable jobs -making their way up, and Rick and Lori married-

You just weren't there yet. And you didn't know how long it would take. Especially since all you could see in your head about the future was Rick. And that wasn't fair to Lori and you knew that but you couldn't stop-

And then, Lori was pregnant.

That was probably the last straw for you.

It wasn't that you stopped showing up, not really. You still came to the baby shower with cute, little baby booties and a bet on a boy. You even met Carl, and he helped. You could distract yourself with him, and every time you visited, you did just that. Lori and Rick would talk to Shane, and you would be lost in playing with Carl.

You stayed until he was three.

Rick had suddenly got the notion -you always knew he was attentive, but you'd never dreamed of this.

"I can tell somethin' is wrong with ya," he had said, hands sturdily on your arms, "-I'm 'ere if ya need me, you know that, right?"

You stopped being as vocal when you met up -trying to hide it all away, all it did was make Rick watch you more. So, you started leaving early and being busy -working yourself to the bone.

As time passed, naturally, they stopped inviting you. Your life shifted, and you moved out of town for your dream job -a fresh start. None of them knew that, and even though you could've said something, you were eager for a do-over.

Maybe this time you wouldn't fall in love with a married man, you thought to yourself.

And even though it was a joke, it hurt. You weren't sure that it ever wouldn't.

That brings you to now, at your apartment in a different city -eating some food you randomly pulled out of your pantry. It was late, and realistically, you should've been sleeping but the show that was on actually caught your attention. You'd let it slide and probably hate yourself in the morning.

Just as another revelation made its way onto your screen (might've been someone cheating on someone else? you weren't really following), you heard a noise.

You stiffened, raising an eyebrow -what the hell?

Patiently waiting, you heard it again -more incessant.

Knocks, you realize, someone was knocking at your door.

Flashing the time on your phone, 1:06 am, you frowned. There was no way anyone you knew was at your door at this hour; it was probably just some weirdo-

The knock came back and this time it was much louder, a pounding even.

You startled for a minute, before standing and making your way to the door -slowly, and keeping a foot propped against it, just in case. You lived in the city, this could really be anybody.

Instead, when you opened the door, you were met with a familiar face -your neighbor a few doors down. She was an older lady, sweet, but she certainly did not look sweet then.

"Do you know him?"

You hadn't even noticed at first, but her fist was clutching hard against the white t-shirt of someone -you shifted slightly to try and see them better.

And when you did...

"Rick?" You asked with disbelief layered in your tone -this could not be real.

"So, you do," she exhaled, letting him go.

He promptly turned to you, and you could just immediately tell he was wasted. He had that flush on his face, and the gleam in his eye you'd seen before at college parties.

Rick's blue eyes fell on you and he grinned real bright, mumbling out, "Y/N! 'S good to see you. I was lookin' for ya-"

"He's been knocking on every door on this floor for 30 minutes," she all but seethed, "-apparently, I'm the only one who answered."

With a breath, your mind spinning -you grabbed Rick's shoulder and pulled him inside.

"Thank you, Beatrice, really," you smiled, apologeticly, "-I'm so sorry he woke you up."

She waved you off, disappearing down the hall.

At that, you locked the door behind you and spun on your heel -determined to make sure this was real. That Rick Grimes was in your living room.

Sure enough, he stood by your couch -a little wobbly. He actually nearly fell but caught himself on the back of the couch.

"Alright, cowboy," you sighed, rushing over to move him to sit, "-Let's get you settled, yeah?"

Rick was putty in your hands as you pulled him onto the couch -body moving only when you forced it to. He smiled at you, big and beautiful, when you stepped back -and you hate to say it made your heart flutter. It was all coming back now, you needed to focus-

"Where 'ave you been?" He asked, and it was slurred, "-Haven't seen you in forever, ya know?"

"Rick, hey," you sat across from him on the coffee table, "-Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?"

"Shane told me," he hiccups, whole body jolting, "-told me ta come find ya. And I-"

He paused for a second, like he couldn't remember.

"I came to see you," he answered, before flashing another smile. He was always a happy drunk.

"Right," you said -not buying it. Had Shane just ditched him in the city? If so, why were they here?

And why did he ditch him in the first place?

You huffed out a breath and pulled out your phone -darting through your contacts. Your finger hovered over it for a second (just a moment of doubt), and pressed it.

It rang for a few minutes, before just going to voicemail.

Frowning, you scrolled back up, skimming again for a different name: Lori. You hoped she would answer, and she should. Her husband has gone missing, assumedly? Yeah, she should be concerned.

And again, it rang for a few minutes and then went to voicemail. ('Hey, this is Lori. Sorry I'm busy right now, but I'll get back to you.')

You huffed out a breath, what the hell?

You knew it was late, but her husband had just shown up at your door -blackout drunk. Did she even know he was out? Was Shane even the one who brought him here?

Rick leaned forward and you placed a hand to keep him upright instinctively. You pursed your lips, debating on how exactly to handle this.

"Rick?" He perked up at your voice, "-Where are Lori and Carl? Are they close?"

He frowned for a moment, before throwing himself back against the couch -you made sure he stayed sat up, "Carl goes wit' Lori on the weekends."

"Goes?" You questioned, you knew you hadn't been present for five years, but it seemed like his whole life had changed -you didn't dare assume, "Rick, are you and Lori not married anymore?"

"No," he scoffed, almost in defense, "-broke up a long time ago. You didn't kno' 'at?"

You swallowed, some sort of mix of shock and disbelief brewed up your throat: so her drunk ex-husband showed up at your door.

There was something in your chest, a little flame in your heart. You were ridiculous, happy about a divorce between some of your previously close friends? God, you were reaching new lows.

Well, wasn't like you could do anything else, so you stood up -grabbing a cup from your kitchen and filling it with water. Rick, thankfully, stayed in his spot on the couch -eyes following you as you walked back over to him.

"You're pretty," he slurred, "-always thought 'at, never said it."

Your heart jumped in your throat, focus, Y/N. He's drunk.

You shook your head, and found your place on the coffee table again, holding out the cup. When his hand extended, he wobbled a bit more and you let out a long sigh.

"Okay, fine," you muttered, scooting closer, "-open up."

He was still surprisingly obedient, sipping the water as you held it to his lips. His eyes, though, stayed focused on you -blue eyes barely blinking. It made you want to fidget in your seat, but you decidedly ignored it. Focus, focus.

With half the glass gone, you were satisfied. Pulling the cup back and sitting it beside you, his eyes did not waver -you were starting to get a little flustered now. Standing to go get a blanket and container (for any... accidents), you were stalled in place.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist -calloused and long, your brain short circuited a bit.

"Rick, why-"

"Even prettier now," he laughed out, grinning, "-thought ya was pretty th'n, but you're even prettier now! How did ya do 'at?"

Swallowing the skip of your heart, you pulled your hand out of his grasp and continued your walk. Shaking out your hands and exhaling a big breath, you stepped out of the closet with the goods and back toward the couch.

"Look," you started, shaking the container in your hand, "-this is where you throw up, okay? Not on my floor."

"Aye, aye," he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, but something you had missed him -even just as a friend. You'd lost him as a friend too, and that probably hurt more than anything. He was your rock and then, he was gone.

Blinking back the fog of your eyes, you set him up in the recliner -pulling his feet up and throwing the blanket over him. It was your extra one, a soft throw blanket, and wasn't long enough to cover his feet. Which, now that you noticed still had his shoes on them.

You let out another long sigh, before beginning to untie the laces.

"Shane told me 'at ya loved me," he said suddenly as if it was a realization and you stilled where you sat. Your breath stuttering in your chest, you focused on the laces for a moment.

"Why did he tell you that?"

Rick sighed, tilting his chin up to look at the ceiling, "Asked 'im 'bout ya, why ya left. If he knew anythin'."

You flinched, something in your chest sinking. He would've been sober then, that wasn't something you just brought up drunk. But, why were they even talking about you? Did they still do that? After all these years?

Feeling guilty, you stayed silent.

Rick didn't say anything else, oddly quiet, and when you looked up, you saw him fast asleep. Eyes fallen shut and head tilted all the way to the left, he looked like quite the picture. You laughed, a tiny one just to yourself.

Maybe, if he woke up and left tomorrow without saying a word -this visual could hold you over for a while. It reminded you of when you guys were the closest, before you started... drifting away.

You swallowed, tears burning the backs of your eyes -not letting them fall. You'd cried over this too many times.

Taking a deep breath in and one last look at Rick, you disappeared to your room. The comfort and familiarity of it made you feel a lot better, but if you focused you could hear the gentle hum of Rick's breathing. A reminder that he was there, that this wasn't all some bizarre dream.

Changing into pajamas, your eyes flickered over some old photos up on your walls -your friends, all smiling and happy. You, Rick, and Shane -sometimes even Lori. It was filled with other things like your diploma and degree, family photos, little souvenirs, and just pictures you'd taken of places you'd been.

Rick looked the same as then, just a little more built. A little sturdier, and more confident in himself; kind of like he knew his place or had found it.

He didn't need you.

You shook the thought from your head and headed to bed -flicking out the lamp on your nightstand and forcing everything within you to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you realized you forgot to get the Tylenol out for Rick. So with reluctance (it was your day off), you pulled yourself out and dug through your drawers to find it. It was quiet, so you assumed, he was still asleep. You would be if you could've.

Instead, however, when you roamed to your bedroom door -you were stalled still. Rick was up, silently looking at your wall with intense focus. Those pictures were of you, some with new work friends, with your family, with just pretty sights you'd seen; it was all you. He was staring a bit like he was in an art museum and your photos were the most fascinating piece he'd ever seen.

Your heart sped up in your chest.

Clearing your throat, he spun to you and you for a second forgot how to speak because those eyes were very clearly aware -skipping all over you like he couldn't believe you were real. You were a little embarrassed you were in your pajamas, suddenly.

Blinking and clearing your head, you spoke -a little awkwardly, "I got you some medicine to help with the... the headache."

Rick pushed his lips together, almost like he wasn't sure what to do -hands grabbing at each other, and rocking a little on his feet. It was like he wanted to say something or do something, but he just couldn't find the words or maybe the will.

He laughed, a little nervously, "Thanks, I... I'm not sure what to say."

You swallowed, before deciding to say, "You don't have to say anything, I get it. You were stranded, you were drunk out of your mind. I'm glad to help. Really."

"Stranded?" He questioned, and you wordlessly handed him the medicine -hands brushing against his. You ignored it.

"Well, yeah," you said, now a little uncertain, "-I can't imagine your visit was planned. I... You said Shane told you to come here, so I assumed he ditched you somewhere. Because he would, if given the chance."

Rick laughed a little at the private knowledge of your friend but there was something strained there -hidden. You weren't sure if you should ask.

"Look," you exhaled, "-I'm not going to poke and prod. I know I've... missed somethings but that's nobody's fault but mine. So-"

Rick seemed to look at you a type of way then, and your mind chimed that 'he knew'.

"I'm not going to ask you anything," you finished, wringing your hands -keeping them busy, "-you don't... you don't have to tell me anything either. I... Yeah."

"Why not?" He offered, and you could tell somehow he was a little disheartened -it made guilt curl up in your stomach.

"It's been five years," you laughed, incredulously, "-I kind of stopped talking to you, Shane, and Lori without warning."

He seemed to flinch slightly at the names, and you had another worried thought -trying to read him ever-so-slightly, "I didn't reach out to ya either."

"That's not-"

"In fact, I remember we stopped invitin' ya," Rick clarified, stepping closer.

"Only because I wasn't showing up," you countered, "-or I was leaving early, or wasn't really... there."

He hummed a little, and you could tell he was processing it all.

"I just, I'm sorry," you finally said, "-I had a lot going on then, and I felt like... That doesn't matter, I'm just sorry for everything."

Something passed through his eyes then, and you thought maybe it was understanding. He knew of your... thing, and he wasn't stupid. You knew he could connect the dots, you just hoped he wouldn't say anything about them. You couldn't handle that.

"It matters," he responded, slowly, "-Ya know, I tried... I tried to see you after we stopped invitin' ya, and your place was up for rent. Door was locked, but I asked the neighbors and they said you'd been gone for months."

You didn't think that he would come looking for you, any of them really. Your paths in life had just diverted and you thought it was a clean break, but... it wasn't. Rick was worrying about you through it all.

Before you could voice anything more, he continued, "They didn't even know where ya went."

I looked for you went unsaid. Your stomach tossed with guilt, a heavy feeling in your gut. It was for the best, but he didn't quite know that.

Well, he did actually. He knew exactly why you had disappeared, so why was he talking about this? Did he want to... Did he want to hear it from you? Confirm it?

Did he not believe it?

You sighed, clearing your throat, "I just needed a fresh start. I was... I was struggling there, and needed someplace new."

"Why didn't ya talk to me?"

God, you were getting into this now. You really, really did not want to. Maybe you could just-

"I would've," he started, slow, and something in him read as guilty, "-I would've done what I could to help."

"Rick," you exhaled, "-I know that. But what was happening then... couldn't be helped. It was something I had to navigate on my own."

"But-"

"Look, Rick," you cleared your throat, "-that was a long time ago, and I feel like all we're doing is dredging up old feelings. That I really..."

You trailed off, eyes getting foggy, before centering yourself and clearing your throat, "Just know, I had a reason, a good reason to leave you guys. I maybe didn't do it right, but I did it how I had to."

Rick was looking at you like you were a shining gem, precious; like the world was a storm and he wanted to shelter you, protect you from it. You weren't sure how to process that, so you just decided not to then.

He seemed to pause for a moment, before asking, gently, "What exactly did I tell ya last night?"

"Only a little," you clarified, "-uh, Shane told you to come here, and that you and Lori... um, aren't together anymore."

"Nothing else?"

You sighed, voice catching in your throat, "I really don't want to do this, Rick."

"Do what?" He asked, brow quirked.

"I've already-" you clenched your fingernails into your palms, "Okay, I know what Shane said to you. You told me last night, okay? We don't have to talk about it."

"I want to," he spoke, stepping closer.

You groaned, "Why? Why does it matter?"

"I just want to know-"

"If it's true?" You interrupted, before letting out a long intake of breath, voice shaking -no time better than now, "-Because if that's what you want to know, I can answer it. Yes. Yes, it's true."

Rick seemed to pause for a moment, something smoothing through his eyes.

"I left because of it," you clarified, as well, answering all the questions he could ask, "-and I wasn't... I wasn't ever going to tell you."

The silence was overwhelming then, as you sucked in a breath and kept your eyes trained on the floor. Your heart beating so fast in your chest, it made your head go fuzzy -your legs felt a little weak. You must've wobbled a little, because-

"Woah," he rushed to your side, one hand holding your waist, "-c'mon, let's sit you down, sweetheart."

It was instinctual, the name, and it wasn't like it was the first time you'd heard it from him. But even so, it just confused you. Everything about Rick Grimes calmed you down, but everything about your feelings made you lose it. The balance was strung so tight, you didn't know how to react.

Now, he sat across from you on the coffee table, long legs bumping into your knees -one hand sturdily on your shoulder, trying to meet your eyes. He just wanted to see if you were okay.

"I'm fine," you breathed out -meeting his eyes, "-just. I'm fine."

Rick nodded, and hesitantly pulled his hand back -you could still feel the warmth sprouted there. It made your head swirl, and part of you wanted to scream your lungs out; you can't still feel it now, that's not fair.

"Can I tell ya something?"

"What is..." you pursued, "-something?"

"A story," he clarified, hands fidgeting, "-I told you 'bout me and Lori, I want to be more specific."

"Rick, you don't have to-"

He laid a hand on your knee, ever so slightly touching -it cut the words from your lips, "I want to."

You didn't say a word.

"Few years, after you left," he started, "-I got hurt on the job. Ended up in pursuit unprepared, and the guy got my shoulder."

His hand seemed to move to the shoulder on instinct, though the scar was hidden under the shirt. You wondered for a moment what it would look like, before washing the idea of his skin out of your brain.

"Shane still your partner? Or-" you rambled a little, "-I know you guys planned it like that."

"Yeah," he smiled, "-Shane was there, kept me awake. But I... I ended up in the hospital for about a year. Half in a coma, and the other half making sure I wouldn't go back into one-"

"Jesus Christ," you muttered out, instinctually.

"And that last day," he started, something in his voice tightening, and on instinct, your hand shot to his leg -comforting. His eyes lingered on it a bit too long, before he slowly placed his palm on top of your skin and gently flipped your hand over. Calloused fingertips wrapped around your hand, and suddenly, they were intertwined -out of his own volition.

You swallowed back the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, you're just comforting him, focus.

"Lori was pregnant," Rick sighed out, big and long -something in him hurt, but something far bigger past it. You could tell, he had processed a lot of this.

"But you were-"

Rick just looked at you then, thumb rhythmically rubbing the skin on the back of your hand.

Oh.

"Shane...?" You offered slowly, carefully.

He exhaled, shakily, and you squeezed his palm -his eyes lingering on it far too long again, "They'd been together for a while. Didn't tell me how long, but I could guess."

You frowned.

"I felt so... so betrayed, and alone-" he started, and there was something heavy in his voice then, "-all I could think about was you."

"Rick," you nearly cooed.

"If," he swallowed, looking up to stop the tears from coming out (you had the thought they weren't for the infidelity, not anymore), "-If you felt like this, and 'at's why you left. I just felt so..."

"That's not fair to yourself," you explained, "-you were going through something so different. I-"

"Was I?" He offered, "-Really? 'Cause I think it was the same sort of feelin'-"

"No, no," you responded, "-very different, Rick. You... You hadn't been kicked out of your own will, I... I was. I can't imagine what you went through."

"You kinda can," he hummed out, and you got the impression he was talking about your feelings. Sure, you'd been heartbroken for years but that was nothing compared to the betrayal he'd experienced.

"Rick, we never-" you cleared your throat before starting again, "-I never said anything. There was nothing built up like you were with Lori, the walls didn't crumble. It was just... me."

He seemed like he wanted to say something in particular to you then, but he seemed to swipe it out of his head. Like maybe he was waiting.

"They're gettin' married," he exhaled, and your heart froze, "-'s why I was 'ere. Shane's bachelor party."

"Jesus Christ, Rick, what the hell-"

"Don't worry 'bout me," he looked at you, straight in the eyes, "-I'm past it, really. Just... brings up a lot."

"I know, but still-" you hissed out, a little frustrated, "-maybe I can show up uninvited and spill wine on her dress. Ooh, or stomp on Shane's toes-"

Rick laughed then, and you felt something in your gut warm at the noise, even more, when you saw the smile slip across his lips. There was something in his eyes that was twinkling and warm, you couldn't quite name it but had seen it before.

"Shane told me a few years back," he suddenly spoke, eyes focused on you -you wanted to squirm a little in your seat.

"Told you what? About him and Lori?"

"No, that you..." he clarified, words stuttering to a stop. Something in your gut snapped, and words just started coming out.

"Look, Rick," you echoed, a little distantly, but meaning all the same, "-you don't have to pity me. I know it's been a long fucking time, since we were kids, but-"

His face seemed to slow, something in his mind, "Since we were kids?"

Shit.

"Forget that I said that," you cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute and feeling the fluster crawl up your throat (you tried to pull away your hand but he kept it tight), "-please. This is embarrassing enough."

"It's not," he spoke, comforting, "-don't be embarrassed. I'm just... I'm shocked. I never knew 'at... as far as high school?"

You sighed, succumbing, "Before I even met you. I was a member of the school population, about 80 percent of those people were into you so-"

"Yeah, sure," he hummed, a little in disbelief, "-but you?"

You didn't know exactly what that meant or what to say to that. It almost seemed like he was saying that you were leagues above him which was... unbelievable to say the least.

"I didn't know you were an option," he mumbled out, "-at all. I thought..."

"You really can't be this surprised."

"I am!" He offered in response, and you absent-mindedly noticed that he was still holding your hand. You tugged at it but he still didn't let up.

"There were other tutors, ya know," Rick mumbled out, slow and in a barely-there whisper.

"Of course," you laughed, "-it's high school."

"I didn't," he started, fidgeting with your hand, grip still solid but he was playing with your fingers, "-I didn't actually need the tutoring."

"Why would you-"

"'Thought ya were cute," he offered, and you swallowed heavily -trying again to pull your hand away. Focus. What could you even focus on anymore?

"Rick, don't-" your voice shook, and you pulled your hand back finally, "-don't do that."

"Do what?" He questioned, big blue eyes and your stomach was twisted in knots. You couldn't do this, not now.

"There's no," you echoed out, standing up and taking steps away from him, "-there was no us, and it's been five years. You don't even know me anymore."

"I want to," he stood, matching your eyes -something in him nearly pleading, "-I really want to."

You took a shaky breath in, taking some more steps back, "Rick, your mind is not clear. Your ex-wife is marrying the man she had an affair with, you are just lonely. And I will not be wanted because... because you just want to feel loved."

"I'm not," he breathed, desperately like the oxygen was being sucked out of his lungs, "-Y/N, I'm not-"

"I won't," you repeated, your eyes getting foggy and voice shaky, "-I won't, Rick. That's not fair."

"Look at me, sweetheart," he was soft and gentle, stepping forward and tilting your face up with his hands, "-I'm not."

"You-"

"I've had years to... to process me and Lori," he explained, slow and patient, "-and a few months after 'at Shane told me. I've had years to... to process you."

"I don't-" you exhaled.

"'S all new to me, but-" He dropped his hands to yours -wrapping his around them, "-I know I feel somethin'. Felt somethin' even then, I just didn't... know it."

"Rick, please," you hummed out, "-I can't do this. I really can't. It's been years-"

"I came lookin' for ya for a reason," he continued, moving his head to match your eyes, "-Shane didn't just drop me off. I got drunk for courage, and I don't think either of us knew just how much."

"You were here for me? I thought you said-"

"'Is bachelor party was a few cities over," he explained, "-Shane recognized the city name, and we got a cab."

"That is so stupid," you chastised, "-is Shane still out there? You guys could've-"

"He called Lori," he quickly interrupted, trying to soothe you, "-Think she picked 'im up."

"You think?"

"No, okay, she did," he reassured, his hands coming to rest on your arms, "-I know I wouldn't 'ave left if she didn't."

"Good," your breaths slowed, "-okay."

"Y/N," he started again, and you just couldn't.

"No, don't-" you began, but then you looked at him. Really looked at him. He was looking at you so carefully, like if he said a wrong word, you'd disappear. Or maybe like he could hardly believe you were standing in front of him.

Maybe he really-

You pursed your lips, letting out a long sigh, "Okay, look. I'll make you a deal."

Rick raised an eyebrow but still seemed so very eager. Excited even, you bit back a smile.

"When's the wedding?" You asked, gears turning in your head.

"A few months from now," he answered, and you could tell he was a little confused -the furrow of his brow and quirk of his lip. He was still so much the same.

"If you," you held his hands between the two of you, "-if you still feel the same then, we'll talk."

"'At's-" he opened his mouth.

"Your best friend and ex-wife are getting married, Rick," you reiterated, "-you do not have a clear mind, I can't believe it. But if you, by some miraculous reason, do, your feelings shouldn't change."

He pursed his lips, something shadowing over his face, sighing, "Okay."

"Don't make that face," you groaned, "-what I'm saying is completely sensible."

"It is," he agreed before his features fell into something else, "-just didn't wanna wait anymore, I guess."

"You're not going to guilt me, Grimes."

His eyes twinkled -mischievously, settling into a blinding smile and throwing your hands down in defeat, "'S worth a try."

"Plus," you added, "-we can catch up on what we missed. Might be nice."

"Ya don't 'ave to convince me anymore," he laughed, "-I'm doin' it."

You smiled at that, and his only got brighter because of it. You schooled your racing heart back into place.

"Friends?" You offered your hand for a shake -expectantly.

He smiled then, it reached his eyes and was all crinkly, "Friends."

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #drunk on you #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes twd

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

here's a wild one for y'all. cw for parental death. names have been changed, it is a kinda specific situation but I think only 1 of my family members is on Tumblr so whatever. sorry it got so long, it's a complicated situation and still VERY fresh so my brain is kinda fried lol.

tldr my dad passed away without a will and we want to give his long-distance "side" gf the house he helped her buy. I'm worried she won't be able to afford the mortgage, but don't really want to give her any of the monetary payouts. WIBTA if my brothers and I kept all of the cash?

so late last week (it's Dec 19 as of submitting) my father (60s M) passed away in a sudden car accident on his way to work. I'm (late 20s ftM) his oldest child, I also have a younger brother (mid 20s M) who we'll call Phineas and an even younger half-brother (almost tween, M) who we'll call Aaron.

so I'd describe my dad as a kind and loving but stubborn and stupid man. I would also guess, based on what I know of his love life, that he was polyamorous but didn't realize it due to his conservative Christian upbringing and didn't know it was an option so instead ended up being...well, kinda an adulterer tbh. this isn't to excuse his actual actions bc they were obviously wrong, but is the way the situation reads to me, a polyamorous person.

Dad had a long distance girlfriend (50s??? maybe??? F) on the West Coast (we live near the East Coast), we'll call her Melody. I met her a few years back when he flew Phineas and I with him to visit her. she's a sweet woman from what I know of her. when I got the news of his passing, I was the one who called her to let her know what happened. (which sucked.)

well, what I Didn't know until I was trying to scrape together travel arrangements (I live 5 hours away from Phineas and my dad) was that he also had a Wife (60sF), who we'll call Patricia. (it wasn't a legal marriage, it was "in the eyes of the Lord" as they said, due to legal complications to do with her social security benefits or something. which is why the arrangements for his death fell onto Phineas and I as his adult children. but if he called her his wife then as far as I'm concerned that's what she is.) he didn't really tell me or Phineas about the full nature of their relationship. Phineas found out bc our dad was spending so much time with her that he'd practically moved in w her, put two and two together and asked her to confirm. I never even knew she existed till all this happened. he had told his parents and siblings about her, and they approved of her. we can only speculate why he kept it so quiet to us, she thinks bc of his history with Real Duds that we'd be upset somehow. idk.

so anyway Patricia knew about Melody. my dad was already seeing Melody when he started seeing Patricia. I don't know what he was thinking when he got with Patricia tbh, can't ask him now anyway, but she knew about Melody the whole time. wasn't thrilled about it, constantly told him he needed to tell her the truth and end things, but doesn't truly hold that against Melody herself bc she didn't know.

Melody, however, did not know about Patricia. he was planning to tell her at some point. kept meaning to. still loved her, didn't wanna hurt her, but was also trying to be monogamously committed to Patricia too. he never got around to actually ending things with Melody before he passed, and as far as she knew he was still planning to move out there and get married to her. he even took out a loan to help her pay for her late mother's house, both their names are on the mortgage and deed.

which brings me to my question. my dad didn't seem to have a will (not that we can find anyway), so Phineas and I are the ones in charge of distributing his various belongings and payouts and such. we both agree that we don't have any use for some house across the country, and Melody is already living in it anyway. imo she should just Have It. however, she is also Pretty Poor. I don't know the specifics of her situation (or, really, much about the complications of home ownership?) but I do worry about her ability to continue to pay the mortgage, assuming that's a thing. we're still waiting to hear about all the details and numbers and have somebody who actually knows about that stuff translate it into layman's terms for us non-homeowners (or in Phineas's case, Brand New Homeowner) so we can get a full picture of how all that is going to work legally speaking.

Dad also had life insurance thru his employer. we are still working thru the red tape at his company to figure out who the beneficiary is, the most likely candidate being me as the eldest child. Phineas and I are agreed that we'll at least be splitting most, if not all, the money evenly between us and Aaron. Patricia is INSISTENT that she doesn't want any of it, she wants us kids to keep it bc unlike some of his exes she never cared about his money (he made GOOD money, but still ended up kinda poor due to both being generous to, and having been taken advantage of by, multiple women since my bio mom died. including having to shell out an insane amount of child support for Aaron despite already having a very active role in his life. like he paid more child support than either I or my fiancee even make at our jobs, while also frequently just straight up directly providing for him where he could). because of his income it's looking like a pretty hefty payout.

however, my brother and I are both pretty poor as well. while we don't know the exact amount we're getting, some are speculating a number that, even split 3 ways, would be Life-Changing for us. we're talking 5 figure amounts, more than I or my fiancee make in a year. like we'll still need to work for a living but, for example, it could be a down-payment on a house or a massive safety net for when I'm out of work (I have a steady job but with seasonal unpaid breaks). it could help Phineas afford expensive repairs for the trailer he now owns, which my dad was supposed to help pay for. in the right account with a decent interest rate, it could be tuition for when Aaron goes to college.

I feel like I Should probably toss some of that money Melody's way, esp since I feel so bad that she's getting the one-two punch of finding out her bf died AND also he had a wife she wasn't aware of. but my brothers and I could really use that money as well. I don't know that Phineas wants to send her any, we're saving that conversation for when we know more of the exact numbers. I don't even know how much Dad was paying towards it, or if he even was anymore. plus--and this is kinda a minor detail--but there's kind of a general vibe I'm getting from the Family (ALL 4 of my dad's siblings AND both his parents are somehow still alive) that Melody is kinda...unliked. they love Patricia and were CONSTANTLY frustrated that he was still visiting Melody and frequently sending her money; I get the feeling they viewed her the same as some of his other gold-digging exes so i think maybe sending her Even More Money would look a little weird? like she's already getting full ownership of a house out of the deal. most of them are in agreement that Phineas and I are the ones who get the final say on the bulk of these decisions but they're...a little pushy anyway.

like I said, we don't know what any of the actual numbers look like AT ALL yet, so it might actually be fine. but WIBTA if we just left her the sole homeowner when she couldn't really afford it, and not send her any money? the consensus will probably show up too late to affect our decision but hey, figured the situation would make for a wild ride anyway (or maybe I just feel like that bc it has been for me LOL).

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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vitaminseetarot · 2 days

Text

Poll PAC: What Your Next Birthday Celebration Will Be Like 🎂🎉🎁

Sup y'all, welcome back to another PAC reading. This time I'm doing a special 1 year/birthday/poll topic of choice themed pick a card! This is also a special one as VitaminSee now has 300 followers! Holy crap thank you for your support everyone! I haven't been able to get on Tumblr for a while, so I apologize if it seems like I've dropped from the aether. Life is starting to enter its hectic phase right now! Thank you so much for your patience. I'm waiting for life things to straighten out (lol as if life ever does) before I go ahead and offer some basic paid readings, which I hope to do in May.

This topic is for the next birthday you have coming up, whether that's tomorrow or next year. For my selection, I was recently lucky to have found the Wild Wisdom Companion book among a vast pile of discounted books. It's based on the Wheel of the Year. I thought this deck was perfect for making piles themed around the progression of the year and how our birthdays respond to the passage of the seasons. Pick whichever one of the Spring themed card you like most down below:

Pile 1 - The Unfurling 🌱 Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊 Pile 3 - The Door 🗝 Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Pile 1 - The Unfurling

Sagittarius - Expand, Level Up, Shadow, Isolation; XVII Star, 3 of Cups, XXI World, Ace of Wands, 5 of Cups

Hello, pile 1! Your birthday is going to be the start of great expansion. Your first three oracle cards spell it out so clearly! Sagittarius is all about shooting for seemingly farfetched goals and striking the target anyway. There is so much growth going on in your pile. You're probably anticipating your next chapter to be one of reaching beyond the horizon and feeling ready to do so. Ideas or wishes that seemed impossible may be coming closer to being within your grasp. Your life is ready to take it up a notch immediately after your next birthday, where things may begin to feel like they're accelerating. Don't worry about the turbulence, it's all a part of the movement. Breaking out of your comfort zone may feel scary, but something about your next birthday will set off a chain of events that will propel you to a new phase of life.

I have a feeling that many who choose this pile will be in a transitory stage of life, like you're getting ready to start college or a new job around your birthday. It's not just another year older, this next one will be extra meaningful in terms of receiving something you've been longing for in quite some time. It's something you've been greatly eager to begin. I don't any sense that you'll be looking back too much once you go forward, since you'll be thrust rather quickly in your next chapter.

But it's still okay if you're experiencing anxiety over it, even if it's something you've really wanted. Anxiety, doubt, and fear are not necessarily indicators that something isn't right for you. It's normal to get cold feet in this context. A sprout breaking from its seed shell is no small feat; it requires a great amount of momentum and motivation. Congratulate yourself for having come this far. Let your birthday be a chance to celebrate this. Give yourself the opportunity to commemorate with friends, if they wanna help give you a birthday to remember then let them. They may feel the vibe as much as you will on that day. Don't be afraid to take that day trip out to a new place you've never seen.

What's interesting about the Isolation card is that it shows two cups. There is meanwhile a Friendship card in this deck with only one cup. So I don't know if the words were swapped with the images or what, but the sense I get is that you will very likely be in good company during your birthday. They may want to take you out dancing (the Ace of Wands is reminding me of disco lights). However, even in the midst of the event, you may feel the urge to hide away from the crowd. I'm picturing someone stepping out of a house during a party. You may need to catch your breath at times in order to process the emotions you're experiencing, as you have a lot of energetic, lit up cards just before the five of cups.

Again, getting in dark negative moods is normal when you're facing a big new stage is not indicative that things will go wrong if it's something you know you're looking forward to. If you end up spending most of the day with friends, find some space to be at peace by yourself so you can even out your feelings. These intense moods will come and go on their own, so make sure to stay balanced (and not too overly caffeinated lol) on your birthday.

Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊

Third House - Communication, A New Day, Ball Pits, Family; 10 of Swords, 5 of Cups, III Empress, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Cups

How's it going pile 2? I couldn't help but notice you have two pairs of swallows in your reading. Birds may have some significance for you, maybe you'll go birdwatching or even get a pet bird. For a small number of you, the birthday could involve a plane flight out of home for a quick trip. Could you be visiting family members? There's a lot of communication going on, for sure. Even if you're not traveling out by flight, you may have family members show up to take you out somewhere. They may be insistent on seeing you, talking to you, and spending time with you. The phone might blow up first thing in the morning with notifications and voicemail.

But I'm seeing a lot of hesitance in your tarot cards. You may be feeling tired or burned out and not necessarily in the mood to celebrate. The previous year was a doozy for you so perhaps catching up on sleep is more of your priority. Ever get the feeling of wanting to sleep because life is overwhelmed and you're like, "I give up (for now)?" and call it a day? You need to give yourself a chance to recuperate around your birthday, before during and after. Have a break so you can fully recover and receive all that the coming year has to offer you.

That means letting loved ones in your life, be they bio family or chosen family, understand that you'd rather have a small get together or a chance to rest every now and then if you're invited out somewhere. If you choose to go out, there's nothing wrong with taking it slow and easy, or doing something casual like grabbing some ice cream and sitting by the riverside to ponder the next year. Communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up in an attempt to keep up with everybody else. Don't let anyone convince you of how you should celebrate, it's your day your rules!

Others of you who have a little more energy, a little more of that "last year sucks, I need to go out and do something fun to sweat it off!", I feel like the ball is emphasized here with Knight of Pentacles beneath Ball Pits. Some of you looking for more action and noise may choose to go to a ball game, or spend time at the arcade playing pinball with friends. It could even be mini golf. Whether you are the low energy (calm) or high energy (excited) seeking type, getting the chance to have some fun is important, as long as it feels right for you.

This is the pile most likely to get some kind of surprise, be that a party (high energy) or a surprise gift (low energy). There will be a sense of being pampered. Some of you may get a larger number of gifts than you may have expected. You may receive a very beautiful gift, something you may treasure for a long time. Whatever it may be, allow yourself to thoroughly enjoy it and express that joy. Let yourself embrace gratitude, being mindful of what you have now regardless of how your last year has been and how your next year will be. For your next birthday, try to focus on the present (in both meanings).

Pile 3 - The Door 🗝

South Node - Past, Let Your Light Shine, Bubble Gum, Winter; Ace of Cups, 9 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, XIX Sun, Page of Wands

Hey pile 3! For your next birthday, I'm definitely seeing you go outside to celebrate. There may be an actual party held outdoors, or you might choose to go out somewhere. I'm seeing parks, possibly national parks or natural trails. I'm getting the feeling of warm sunshine, the weather will likely cooperate perfectly on your day. You could be cruising through town, going from store to store (the 3 of pentacles reminds me of a mall here). Your birthday feels expansive and adventurous, ready for something new.

A small number of you may wish to engage a little bit in the spotlight, or you may be placed into a position of receiving more attention on this day. If you wish to, your birthday would be a great day to showcase your talents or passions, since I'm picking up a bit of Leo energy in this pile. With lips in Bubble Gum, you could be giving a speech? I'm picturing an actual toast, if you feel the strong urge to speak out then do so, let yourself be heard. I'm also seeing people sing for you at restaurants, so if that isn't your style, it's best to find a place to eat that doesn't do that sort of thing.

This birthday could be like your own version of a New Year's Eve celebration. Some of you may actually be born in the winter or around New Year's, so holidays and birthdays could tie in together. You're wanting your birthday to stand out amidst the traditional festivities (I've known many people born around Christmas who hate having their birthday gifts thrown under the tree, so you're not alone in that frustration!). You may get the idea of doing something out of the ordinary. Let yourself take the spotlight--it's your special occasion!

There's a message in your pile of letting old things go as you step into a new age. Old things from the year prior may still be sticking onto you, old issues from unresolved matters may pop up. They could be on the more practical side, like needing to sign something or finish a task on time. Be ready to step into the future unafraid--now is the time to shed the baggage. Your birthday can be the fresh start to a bright new trip around the sun, but you gotta give yourself that chance. If something needs to be resolved, and you got the time, tie up your loose ends beforehand so it's not weighing on you as you celebrate.

Your birthday is a threshold to an exciting new time for you. It may be like a breath of fresh air. I keep hearing "refreshed" and "invigorated", so this may be how you feel at the end of your birthday. You may do something that makes you think, "huh, why don't I do this more often?" That could be the key for you to step into something brand new. Will spending time with your friends refresh you, or going to a concert and discovering a new band that you will fall in love with as it warms up the show? Or may you desire to spend more time out in nature? Lean into what lights you up, listen to what engages you, and move from there.

Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Imum Coeli - Roots, Snow Day, Forest, Transformation; 3 of Cups, 6 of Cups, Ace of Swords, XII Hanged Man, 8 of Swords

What's up, pile 4? Your birthday is looking to be the absolute warmest and coziest out of all the piles. Many of you may identify strongly with introversion. I'm sensing a lot of you have your birthday around autumn or the cooler times of the year when most people are ready to bundle up in blankets or sit by the wood stove while awaiting the first signs of frost. Many of you may get a lucky chance to stay at home instead of needing to work or go to school, so you'll have the day off to plan out what you want to do. Others of you may desire to take time off if you have the chance to, I would go for it especially if you've been feeling the need to rest. You may live near trees or desire to be out in nature as a way to kick back.

I'm seeing someone invite a few friends over to watch old reruns of favorite shows while baking. It could be a gathering of closest friends, I'm not getting the sense that it'll be a big to-do bash. This day will be short, sweet, and simple. It's a good day for doing hobbies or spending time indulging in the gifts you were given. Some of you may rather spend time with family or those you live with instead of inviting people over. You and your family may share a special way of celebrating birthdays, I don't know of any birthday specific cultural traditions from the top of my head but you may have special rituals unique to you and your family. Either way, I get that you'll have a modest celebration that's nevertheless full of camaraderie and relaxing activities.

The description for the Alchemist card says "Allow Transformation", and you have another Transformation card. You may be doing a lot of transmuting on the inside, working through old stubborn patterns and limiting beliefs around this time. I'm seeing the ball of flame near the snow as if you're melting old self-sabotaging blockages away to make room for more growth in your coming year. This flame, this transmuting energy, is making way for the new to arrive.

The Hanged Man being tangled up in vines beneath a forest makes me think that you've been hung up on something that needs to be let go. You must prune in order to effectively grow. Too much in a small space can lead to cramming and confusion. You must deal with the thoughts tangling themselves up in your mind before cultivating the thoughts you want in their place. Changes may happen slowly on the outside, but when certain patterns are fully cleared out things can really take off.

So, for example, let's say you've wanted to sign up for a ceramics workshop for your birthday, or spend the day cleaning house (if you happen to find cleaning therapeutic). To do so, you'll need to not only free up your schedule, but free your mind of thoughts trying to convince you that you can't learn or can't clean. Perhaps it's difficult to not see the forest as just a bundle of trees. But a forest is more than trees, it's an entire system that supports itself in a perpetual cycle. Don't fill up your days with too many tasks, especially on your birthday. Pace the day with both the things you want to do and the things you have to do. The time around birthday will show you how to integrate the best of both worlds. We can have cake and eat it too, it's just a matter of pacing and doing things one at a time.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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pepperonidk · 4 months

Text

Let it Snow || h.js

pairing: joshua hong x f!reader warnings: FLUFF, also this is a very christmas centered , Joshua + reader are both teachers, but it doesn't really come up often word count: 9.1k summary: what does it feel like to be loved by Joshua Hong? It feels like coming home.

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! this is the first thing I've written since I moved to Korea so y'all be nice lol. this is so self indulgent there's barely even a plot. It's just fluff.

main masterlist

“So I really don’t understand why we can’t just take one car.”

You looked up from your computer to find the teacher-next-door Mr. Hong had made himself comfortable, perched on the edge of your desk with a sandwich in his hand. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a sigh as you turned back to the lesson plan on your screen.

“I’m just saying,” he continued as he took another bite. “We’re going to the same place, and with gas prices like this, I just think it’s the most logical solution.” You already knew he was looking at you with an eyebrow, waiting for your imminent rebuttal before he presented his own. It was always like this with him, every conversation a game of tug-of-war, and most of the time Joshua had a way of drawing you to his side. Regardless, it never stopped you from playing along.

You pushed back from your desk, swiveling the chair a bit to get a better look at him. “What about car space?” You began. “My car is too small to hold us and our luggage and gifts.” You fight to keep a poker face as Joshua beams at you with his infamous smile. Since first getting hired two years ago to be a third grade teacher you’ve heard countless coworkers and parents walk down your hallway, excitedly chattering about that exact smile. While it wasn’t uncommon to see Joshua smiling (especially for his own third grade class), it did feel special that right now, you were a private audience to it. The idea made your heart flutter.

“So glad you mentioned that,” he offered you a grape from his lunch box. “I was just thinking that my brand new, spacious, 5-seater SUV with ample trunk space and leg room needed to be taken on a road trip.” You took the grape as you mimed considering his response. Honestly, it was a good idea, but admittedly, there was also some satisfaction to be found in pretending to be reluctant.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you thought of another excuse before Joshua interrupted your thoughts. “Can’t think of anything else, can you?” He raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes in response.

“Okay, I admit,” you looked up to see Joshua’s face light up. “It’s a pretty good idea.”

“So that’s a yes?” He asked, finally hopping off your desk and offering you one last grape as the sound of students approaching reminded you that lunch time for teachers was never long enough.

“It’s a yes, Mr. Hong,” you replied, grabbing the grape from his outstretched hand just as you heard an excited squeal. Two third graders were standing at the door, with just the perfect incriminating view of your hand in Joshua’s. You quickly pulled your hand back, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, not even taking the grape.

As if unfazed by their whispers, Joshua raised an eyebrow in amusement as he decided to pop the grape in his mouth before heading toward the door where the two girls continued to giggle about the scene. “I’ll see you later,” he said to you as he headed for his own classroom. “Have a good class, kids! Be nice to your teacher, it’s the holidays.”

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as he walked out, even as your kids rushed to your table. “Did Mr. Hong finally ask you to marry him?” One excited child asked. By now, there was a small crowd gathering to find out the details.

“Marry him?” You asked in surprise. “Why would he ask me that?” You stood from your desk and motioned for them to go sit down at their desks, which they obeyed, but the giddy smiles on their faces was a sign that the conversation was not yet over.

“Because he loves you, duh,” A voice called out from the back. “All old people have to get married when they love someone.”

“Yeah,” a chorus of agreement followed. “We’ve been waiting all year for it.”

The sting of being called old by a room of 9 year olds was drowned out by the way your heart fluttered at the idea of being loved by Joshua Hong. You weren’t even dating, unfortunately, but every so often he’d make a snide flirty comment or put a hand on your back and you’d find yourself wondering, what if?

You and Joshua had first met in high school when he was your group leader for your freshman orientation. He was a senior in need of volunteer hours and although he was kind and helpful, he was more interested in talking to the other group leaders than becoming buddy-buddy with awkward freshmen. Once the school year officially started, it quickly became obvious that he and his friends were wildly popular at school, at the center of every social circle. Although you had a few friends in common, you were still on the outskirts of their circle.

It wasn’t that you were particularly invisible, but the number of times you had spoken to Joshua Hong could be counted on one hand. The first time was during orientation, when he asked your name for the sign-in sheet. You’ll never forget the butterflies you felt when you saw him smile for the first time. He spoke to you again later that day, when you were sitting beside a boy named Chan and neither of you were really talking to each other. You noted the way Chan lit up in relief at Joshua’s presence.

“Chan!” Joshua called to him before turning his attention to you. “I see you’ve met my neighbor, Chan.”

You waved awkwardly to the boy next to you. “Chan, this is…” Joshua trailed off with a sheepish smile, and a hand reaching to the back of his neck. You filled the silence with your name, feeling heat in your cheeks, embarrassed. Chan must have noticed because he introduced himself once more before realizing you already knew his name. There was a sense of relief in knowing he was just nervous too. “Go easy on him,” Joshua joked. “Chan doesn’t know how to talk to girls yet.” Before Chan could retort, Joshua had walked away, leaving you with the boy who’d become your best friend for the years to come.

The third time was at Joshua’s graduation party that Chan had begged you to accompany him to. You didn’t really know anyone there, although you recognized most of the boys from Joshua’s somewhat large friend group. You were relieved to find you and Chan’s other friends, Seungkwan and Hansol. They were sophomores from his health class, and were really easy to hang out with. The party was more fun after finding them. You didn’t run into the host of honor until you had taken a break from a riveting game of truth or dare to grab a soda from inside the house. Joshua was in the kitchen, seemingly taking a break as well, and didn’t notice you come in until you opened the fridge. When he finally turned to you with a smile, you swore you could have fallen to your knees in embarrassment. The words that came out of his mouth… devastating to say the least.

“Hey,” he began. “You’re Chan’s friend right? I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Joshua.” You hoped he couldn’t see the heat rise to your cheeks or the way your own smile faltered. Thankful that no one else was around, you took his outstretched hand in a handshake and introduced yourself to him for the third time. You didn’t really see him again after that, and honestly, that was more favorable than having to introduce yourself to him for a fourth time.

However years later, in the hallways of another school there he was again. He was a few inches taller, his taste in fashion better, but his smile was the same as it was years before. The vice principal was in the middle of showing you your classroom roster when a knock on the door caught both of your attention.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hong,” your vice principal greeted him. Standing at the door was a blast from the past, and with him came the butterflies you thought you left behind in the musty halls of high school. “This is the new third grade teacher,” she introduced, but before she could get your name out, Joshua had beaten her to it. He remembered your name. Her eyebrow raised in interest. “Do you know each other?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “We went to high school together.” You really hoped no one noticed how warm your face suddenly felt at the surprise of not only seeing him again, but also remembering your name.

“Is that so?” She asked and Joshua nodded with a smile. “In that case, Mr. Hong, you can finish up this tour right? I have a date to get to.”

Joshua gave a salute before taking her place beside you, close enough to smell the cologne he was using. A definite step up from high school Joshua’s usual Axe body spray. “Have a good time,” he called to her as she left. “Now, let me tell you all about which kids to watch out for.”

From the beginning, Joshua had become not only a mentor of sorts, but somehow your best friend as well, and everyone knew. Or at least, they had their own ideas about what he was to you. The third graders in front of you currently were no exception.

“So is Mr. Hong going to be your husband now?” The question snapped you out of your thoughts and you dismissed it with a laugh.

“No,” you laughed, turning to write a math problem on the board. “We’re just going to visit our families together for Christmas break.” Honestly, you really didn’t need to be defending yourself to anyone, but you knew your kids were so curious, and who were you to deny them that?

The class erupted into a chorus of disappointed “aw”s and “boo”s that made you chuckle. “Okay, okay,” you attempted to settle the class. “Enough of that, we have other problems to solve,” you continued as you pointed to the question on the board.

By the end of the day, you were exhausted. After making sure all of your students were sent home safely, you walked back to your classroom and plopped into your desk chair with a sigh, thankful that it was the last day of the semester. While wrapping up a few emails on your computer, you heard a knock at the wall next to you. Two quick knocks and one just a bit later. You smiled to yourself, and responded with the same knock. You and Joshua had a secret knock, a sort of code to let each other know that the other’s presence was needed. You got up from your desk to open the door where Joshua was already waiting outside his own.

“Tired?” He asked, and you nodded back with a sigh. “It’s all that sugar. I keep telling the librarians to stop offering them candy canes before it’s time to go home.”

You laughed at his frustration. “I love those kids,” you began. “But I am so glad I won’t have to see them for three weeks.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Unless, you know, one of them is also visiting home and happens to be in the same 10 mile radius as us.”

You groaned at the idea. “Shua, don’t even joke like that.” You stepped closer to him to playfully push him, at which he dramatically winced and reached a hand over his heart.

“It’s just so fun to annoy you,” he began. “You make this cute little face that looks like a pack of squirrels just moved into your brain.” He reached a hand to tap a finger in between where your brows had furrowed together.

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s only funny until it’s true. Then you have a 9 year old shadow trying to follow you around everywhere.”

Joshua put his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay. You got me there.” He let out a small sigh before continuing. “Should I come over tonight to help you pack?”

“Don’t you need to pack?” You asked him as he shook his head.

“I finished last night,” he assured you. “Figured you’d probably wait until today to start.”

“You know me so well, don’t you?” you smiled up at him as he nodded.

“I like to think so.” He smiled at you in return, although it felt much softer than his usual smiles.

Joshua arrived promptly at 6 p.m. with a knock at your door and takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant around the corner. A quick look through the peephole showed a smiling Joshua dressed in his old and worn college hoodie, one that you’ve borrowed and worn enough times that it sparked a dating rumor at work, his duffel bag, and his plaid pajama pants. You were wearing your own matching pair. The smell of the chicken was enough to entice you to open the door. Upon entering your apartment and kicking off his beat up white sneakers and dropping his duffel, he set down the bag of food on the counter and flopped down on the couch, laying down and grabbing the remote to press play on the show you had paused.

“Hello to you too,” you chuckled. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” You grabbed a box filled with noodles and a pair of chopsticks before walking over to the couch. As if on instinct, Joshua lifted his legs, allowing you to find a spot before lowering them back over your lap.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Joshua teased back. “Can you pass me the popcorn?”

“Here,” you rolled your eyes as you handed him the bowl of popcorn. “I thought you were coming over to help me pack?”

Joshua popped a handful of kernels into his mouth before replying which made you grimace. “I’m emotional support.”

“What would I even need emotional support for?” you questioned. “We’re only packing for a few dsays. I’ll just bring a few outfits and –”

You were interrupted by the sound of Joshua clearing his throat and swinging his legs off of your lap so he could sit upright and face you. “Remember last year, you said the same thing and still forgot to bring an outfit for that charity gala your parents throw every year?”

You nodded in defeat and let out a groan as you stood to go to your bedroom closet, to find a dress. You pulled two out, your trusty black dress that you’ve worn to a few of your parents’ galas and a newer red dress that you’d been saving for just the right occasion. After walking back outside, you held them both up for Joshua, who had now moved on from the popcorn and began eating at your noodles. “Which one should I bring?” you asked. “I know I wear this one every year, but I love it and then there’s also this –”

“Definitely the red one,” Joshua interrupted you, nearly choking on a mouthful of tofu to get his sentence out. “No more questions.” You couldn’t tell if his face was red from nearly choking on tofu or the idea of seeing you in the dress.

You shrugged and nodded as you slid the material off the hanger and unceremoniously dropped it into your suitcase, along with all the other outfits that were already packed. For the next half hour, it was relatively quiet in your apartment. The sound of Home Alone seemed to be the only break from the silence aside from the quiet chuckle Joshua would let out throughout the movie. These were your favorite moments with Joshua. School days were busy and loud, so much running around that when you did see him, it was in breathless “hey”s and rushed waves in the hallways. But in the warm glow of the fairy lights that adorned your living room wall and the stillness of it all, Joshua looked ethereal. If you had told yourself at 14 that the boy who barely even knew your name would not only be your friend, but even have a drawer of his own clothes at your apartment, you probably would laugh.

“What’s got you laughing?” Joshua asked, turning his head towards you. You didn’t even realize that you had chuckled aloud.

“Just…thinking, I suppose,” you answered him.

“Is that so?” He asked, moving to sit up and leaning forward on his knees in exaggerated interest. “Better share with the class, then.”

You thought about asking if he remembers the first time you met him, but decided to save it for another day. The quiet peace you had built up in this moment was much too delicate for an awkward question like that. So instead you told him you remembered a stupid Tik Tok that Chan had sent you earlier that day and Joshua’s face lit up in excitement.

He grabbed his phone and sat down next to you, knees touching yours. “Why don’t we give him a call?” He suggested. “He doesn’t even know I’m coming home this Christmas. I told him I was thinking of going overseas for the break.” He pulled up his number and hit the video call button and Chan answered almost immediately. Joshua held the phone to make sure you’re both in frame as he greeted him. “Hey Chan!”

“My two favorite teachers,” Chan smiled. “What’s up?” The sound of a dog barking and multiple people engaged in conversation in the back gave the hint that Chan was already back home with his family.

“I have something to tell you,” Joshua whispered conspiratorially. He leaned forward toward the camera, but before he could get a word out –

“You guys are getting married,” Chan blurted out excitedly and Joshua nearly dropped his phone. Why does everyone jump to that idea first, you thought to yourself.

Joshua was flabbergasted. “What? No that’s not–”

“You’re finally dating, aren’t you?” Chan guesses again, wagging an accusatory finger at Joshua. “I’ve always known–”

“No,” Joshua stopped him. It wasn’t often that you saw him turn so bright red, so you relished the moment. “We– I– I’m coming home for the holidays, is what I was trying to tell you.”

“Oh,” Chan dragged out awkwardly. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“You literally didn’t even give me a chance,” Joshua was exasperated. He passed the phone to you while he stood up to grab a drink and put away the leftover food.

You greeted Chan again. “Channie, I miss you.”

Joshua called out to you from the kitchen. “Ouch, how come you’re never that excited to see me?”

“She sees you every single day,” Chan answered instead. “Let me have my best friend back.”

“Aw,” you began. “Don’t worry Chan, you’re still my best friend.”

“And what am I?” Joshua pouted as he returned from the kitchen.

“A leech at most,” you teased, causing Chan to chuckle. “You showed up just to watch my movies and eat all my snacks.” Joshua rolled his eyes but resumed his original position beside you anyway. He could never really be annoyed at you.

“So when are you guys going to head over here?” Chan asked. “Most of the guys are already here and are already planning to do something after the gala.”

“We’re headed out first thing tomorrow morning,” Joshua answered. “We’re only staying for the week.”

“Make sure you pack your warmest clothes,” Chan advised. “It’s supposed to be colder than usual this week.” You mimed a salute to Chan and Joshua nodded in response. “Okay, I’ll see you both tomorrow then!” Chan exclaimed before saying a quick goodbye, accidentally cutting himself off in the process.

Joshua set his phone down and you could still see the echoes of pink on his cheeks from Chan’s remark earlier. “I’m uh…” he began, getting up from his spot and still avoiding looking you in the eyes. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Is your extra blanket still in the hall closet?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “Wake me up later?”

He smiled at you from the bathroom door. “Of course,” he assured you. “Good night.”

“Good morning, sunshine,” you heard a voice cut through your dreams. Joshua was sitting beside you in bed, shaking you gently. The room was still dark and you wondered if you slept any more than four hours. “It’s 5 a.m.,” Joshua told you, as if he knew what you were thinking. “It’s early, but I wanted to beat the traffic.”

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up. Joshua was already dressed. Well, dressed for a road trip. He was still wearing the same hoodie from last night, but traded his plaid pajamas for a pair of black sweatpants, and a white baseball cap sat on his hair that was growing out much too fast. “Good morning,” you yawned. You reached up to brush the bangs that were sticking out from under his hat away from his eyes. He chuckled softly, and you were glad that any awkwardness he might have felt last night was gone.

“I already put your suitcase in the car,” he announced as he watched you get up and head to the restroom to change and get ready for the day. “Everything is ready. Well, except you.”

You popped your head out of the restroom to roll your eyes on him before returning. He walked out of the hallway and headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us some coffee,” he called loud enough for you to hear.

When you were finally out of the bathroom, dressed similarly to Joshua in a sweater and sweatpants, you were greeted to the smell of coffee and your favorite pastries from the bakery downstairs. Joshua was sitting at the counter, sipping from his favorite of your mugs – a misshapen Snoopy mug that you had found on one of your many thrift shop trips together. The sight was all too familiar to you and made it much too easy to pretend that this was what it looked like to be in love with and loved by the man across from you.

“You ready?” he asked, handing you your pastries, still in the bag and still warm, and the coffee that he had put into one of your travel mugs. You took one sip and savored the ratio of sugar and cream that Joshua had perfected when it came to you, and nodded at him in reply. After going through your mental checklist of last minute things to turn off and unplug, the two of you finally made it out the door.

“Do you still have that playlist we made last year on that work trip?” You asked as you entered Joshua’s car which was still cold after spending the night in the guest parking spot at your complex.

Joshua handed you his phone which he had plugged into the car. “Duh, it should be pinned,” he said as he fiddled with the many buttons on his car dashboard. You almost sighed as you felt the growing warmth of his heated seats. I’d marry him right now for his car, you thought to yourself as you put the playlist on and handed Joshua the phone. He plotted the address of your childhood home and you two were set for the next few hours.

Not long after leaving the apartment, the sky began to slip out of its indigo hues and into a cozy blend of pinks and oranges that could fool anyone into thinking it wasn’t freezing outside. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a warm glow onto Joshua’s face and as he reached up to grab his sunglasses, he caught your gaze.

“Take a picture,” he teased. “It’ll last longer.” He had his sunglasses on, but it didn’t do much to hide that he was looking at you through his peripheral. You pulled out your phone.

“I will, actually,” you started taking pictures, capturing Joshua’s laughter. He’s so pretty like this, you thought to yourself as you continued to take candid shots of him. “These are definitely instagram worthy,” you told him.

“Send them to me later,” he requested.

“Mmmm… you’ll have to earn them,” you smiled and tucked your phone away. You pulled your sweatshirt sleeves down over your palms as you began to yawn.

“You can nap, you know?” Joshua assured, taking a quick glance at you. “We still have a ways to go.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to drive alone,” you told him. “Plus, it’s too bright out anyway.”

Joshua let out a sigh before reaching up to pull off his cap which he then placed on your head instead, pulling the front down to cover your eyes from the brunt of the sunlight. “You should really find better excuses if you’re gonna keep arguing with me,” he joked. “Now sleep, I’ll wake you if I need anything.”

“Oh Joshy,” you started. “When will you learn that I never give in easily?” Despite your arguments, you were already drifting off.

“Trust me,” you heard him say softly. “I know it all too well.”

When you finally woke up, it took your eyes a bit to adjust to the brightness of the day. You reached up to pull down the hat over your eyes, only to find that in its place was the weight of Joshua’s head on top of yours and you had accidentally slapped him right in the face.

“Well good morning to you too,” Joshua yawned, leaning off of you. “We’re here by the way.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You leaned back toward your seat and away from the center console where you and Joshua’s arms were practically entwined.

“I felt bad that you only had like 3 hours of sleep, and I guess I dozed off waiting for you to wake up.” He shrugged as if it was the most casual and normal thing to do. It most definitely was not normal. Scanning your surroundings, you saw that you were parked in front of your home. “Are you ready?” Joshua asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a sigh.

The two of you walked out of the car with your luggage in hand, only for Joshua to do a double take in front of your parents’ driveway. “That’s so funny,” Joshua chuckled to himself. “That looks like my mom’s car.”

It was indeed Joshua’s mom’s car.

Apparently, both of your moms had become best friends in the last year, after Joshua’s mom volunteered to help out with the gala last Christmas. The next few hours were filled with countless childhood stories being shared about you and Joshua, leaving you both flustered and embarrassed. It turned out that before Joshua Hong was a high school heartthrob, he was a goofy little boy who dressed up as Shrek every single halloween without fail.

Eventually, when both women had exhausted their memories, they shooed the two of you away to the living room so they could finalize details for tomorrow night’s gala. There wasn’t anything good on TV, so you and Joshua mostly sat together, quietly scrolling through your phones. When Joshua’s mom came in, neither of you even noticed until she remarked, “Don’t you two look cozy?”

You were laying down with your legs swung over Joshua’s lap and a blanket on top of both of you. You were cozy, but your cheeks flushed at the teasing tone of her remark. You sat up and scooched an appropriate distance away from Joshua who laughed quietly. His cheeks weren’t red at all. “Oh, don’t mind me,” his mom dismissed, grabbing a vase from the coffee table and retreating out of the living room. “As you were, lovebirds.” From the kitchen, you could hear them in a fit of stifled laughter.

You looked at Joshua who was fighting his own laughter as he waited for you to resume your position close to him. He could tell you were hesitating and cut through your thoughts. “It’s warmer under the blanket,” he coaxed you back to him.

When the doorbell rang and Chan’s voice cut through to the living room, you and Joshua both looked at each other with a sigh of relief. Boredom was creeping in quickly, and Chan offered the promise of something to do to break from the monotony of being in your childhood home. The two of you stood up to meet him at the door and offered for him to come into the house.

“No, that’s okay,” he dismissed. “I was on my way to meet the guys when I saw your car and thought I’d come and see if the two of you wanted to come along.” You were already slipping on your shoes and coat before he said anything else.

“Whatever you’re doing, I’m in,” you agreed, tying your scarf around your neck. Joshua was doing the same already.

“I haven’t even –” Chan tried to continue, but the two of you were already pushing past him, waving goodbye to your moms.

“I call shotgun,” you called out as you walked toward Chan’s car. Joshua pouted but stood at the back passenger’s door anyway.

It wasn’t until Chan was already in the car that you finally asked where he was taking you. “The guys wanted to meet up at the parking lot of the high school,” he explained.

“As a teacher,” Joshua began, leaning forward between you and Chan’s seats. “I don’t condone loitering on school grounds after hours. As a former high school delinquent myself though, I just hope Hansol brought snacks.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Chan chuckled. “I think Seungcheol and Seungkwan wanted to play soccer on the field.”

Sure enough, when you arrived at your old school, you could hear the boys yelling from the field before you even got out of the car. It was a familiar sight, and a wave of nostalgia came over you as you and Chan trailed behind Joshua on your way to the field.

“Remember when you would beg me and Seungkwan to watch our soccer practices?” Chan nudged you.

You rolled your eyes back at him. “I was really interested in soccer, okay?” you defended. You were lying and Chan definitely knew it. You only used to come to his games and practices to watch Joshua play. In your years of high school, however, you never actually learned anything more about the sport.

“Right,” Chan said. “Name a soccer position. Any soccer position. Besides the goalie.”

“Uh,” you hesitated. “Okay fine, I had ulterior motives, but shut up.” Your face suddenly felt hot and you hoped that Joshua didn’t hear your conversation. Chan laughed as he watched you walk away from him.

When you arrived on the field, it seemed that most of the other dozen or so members of Joshua and Chan’s friend group were already engrossed in the middle of a game. You slipped into the bleachers beside Jeonghan, who was snacking on a banana. Jeonghan was Joshua’s partner in crime in high school. Because of your shared literature class, you had spoken to him a bit more than Joshua or his other friends in high school. He gave you a slight nod in acknowledgement before offering you one as well.

“Hey, long time no see,” he greeted you. “Did you and Josh just get here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, accepting the banana. “About an hour ago. No soccer for you today?”

“Not today,” he shook his head. “I hurt my ankle at work, so I guess I’m up here with you today.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be as entertaining as whatever’s happening down there,” You gestured down to the field where the boys had briefly paused to attempt a weird trending dance Joshua had learned from his students.

“I’m sure you will be,” Jeonghan said with a smirk.

“That almost sounded threatening, Jeonghan.”

“Nah,” Jeonghan wrapped an arm around you. “I just have a few questions for you, and I’m sure your answers will be entertaining. For me, anyway.”

You immediately knew where this was headed. Jeonghan was the only other person, besides Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan that knew of your crush on Joshua. The only difference was that he had somehow figured it out on his own, rather than you admitting it to him. He confronted you on a day like this, at one of the soccer practices. He plopped down beside you during their break and asked bluntly, “So when are you gonna tell ol’ twinkly eyes you like him?”

You had sworn Jeonghan to secrecy, which he of course agreed to. “Why would I tell him myself, when I can be in on the secret instead?” he had said. Even in all of the times you’ve seen him since that day, he’s kept his word. Now here you are yet again on the bleachers about to answer the same question.

Knowing you didn’t have much of a choice, you let out a sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Great,” Jeonghan beamed. “First one, when are you gonna tell ol’ twinkly eyes you like him?” You threw your head back at his question. How does he remember that? You thought to yourself.

“Never, most likely,” you answered. Jeonghan shook his head in disappointment. “What?”

“That’s such a boring answer,” Jeonghan chastised. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“Because I like being his friend,” you shrugged. “What we have right now is nice.”

Jeonghan snorted a laugh. “Seriously?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked loudly, causing Joshua to turn up at you from the field in concern. You smiled and waved to him, appeasing him as he turned back to the game.

Jeonghan put his hands on your shoulders, squeezing as if massaging you. “Relax,” he shushed. “It’s just… you guys are basically in a relationship already.”

“No we’re not,” you argued.

“Oh please,” Jeonghan scoffed. “Half the time Joshua picks up my facetime calls, he’s in your apartment or you’re in his. He has a drawer full of shirts that he’s set aside for you at his place, and I’m sure you have one at yours. Do you know how many times he’s left a night out early so he can come see you instead? And if he doesn’t leave, he’s ordering a meal to your place to make sure you have something to eat. It’s a relationship, you’re just both too scared to say it.”

For once, you were speechless, and for the second time, Jeonghan had hit the nail right on the head. What were you and Joshua? Just friends don’t do the things you do… but also, if he wanted to be something more, why wouldn’t he just ask? And if he didn’t ask… well should you even be doing these things anymore?

“You know I’m teasing you, right?” Jeonghan continued, seeing the way your skin began to pale in panic. “Well mostly. I do think you guys are just a semantic definition away from dating, but you don’t have to say anything to him if you’re not ready.” You let out a sigh. “Thanks, Hannie.”

“No problem,” he said. “Just think about it okay?” It looked like the boys were wrapping up their game, and Jeonghan chuckled as he watched Joshua immediately search for your eyes as he grabbed a bottle of water.

Jeonghan leaned over in a whisper. “I’ve never seen him look at someone like that. I call him starry eyes for a reason.” Before you could reply, he stood to meet the other boys while Joshua came bounding up the bleachers to replace him.

“You okay?” he asked as you nodded your head in reply. “Are you sure? Jeonghan can be a bit much.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “You ready to go?”

“Well,” he began, eyes trailing to the boys who were all grabbing their stuff. “The guys wanna go get waffles at the diner, but if you’re down, we can walk there together. I know a bit of a shortcut.” You nodded and the two of you said your goodbyes to the group.

Instead of walking back to the parking lot, Joshua led you down a small alleyway between the gymnasium and the soccer field. The gap was narrow and dark, especially with the sun beginning to set, and Joshua reached behind him to grab your hand. If you hadn’t just spoken with Jeonghan, you would have felt butterflies, but instead you just felt a bit guilty.

“Joshua,” you called out. “This feels sketchy.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “This is how I used to sneak off campus way back in the day.” It wasn’t long until you were finally in a clearing, and you paused to catch your breath. Small spaces were not fun.

“You know,” you began. “I had heard you skipped class but I never really believed it.”

“It’s such a shame we weren’t best friends back then,” Joshua laughed. “I could’ve been a bad influence on you so much earlier on.”

“I can’t believe the district trusts you to educate our future leaders,” you teased.

“I’m reformed,” Joshua defended.

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes. As you continued walking, you found yourself speaking before you realized what you were asking. “Do you think we could’ve been friends in high school the way we are now?”

“No,” Joshua replied quickly. “I’m a firm believer that things happen when they’re supposed to happen. Plus, you were too good for me.” He looked over at you with a gentle smile. It wasn’t really the answer you expected to hear, but how can you feel hurt when he smiles at you like that?

“Oh,” you uttered. “Too good for you?” you felt yourself blush at his words.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “You were kind, smart, and cute. I was smart too, but a bit of a slacker, as you can see.” Cute? He called you cute, you thought to yourself.

“Well what about now?” The two of you had stopped at a small park. You weren’t too far from the restaurant, but it was obvious you were both holding onto the opportunity to be away from the chaotic energy that tends to follow a group of 13 boys.

“Well,” Joshua began, leading you to sit beside in the swing next to his. “You’re still smart and kind, and I’m less of a slacker.”

“What about cute?” you asked, expecting him to tease you. “Am I still that?”

Joshua shook his head before looking at you with a kind of softness you hadn’t seen before. It was as if you were something delicate he was holding in his hands and he was afraid that you would shatter with any pressure. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed out the words in a whisper. If the breeze had picked up any more, his words would have been carried away with it.

For a second, you couldn’t say anything. Joshua had complimented you many times before but it was always in silly comments or in teasing jokes. This, however, was none of the above. It felt like a confession, almost, like something he’d been wanting to say for much too long. It just felt different, but the good kind of different. The kind that feels like a door is opening, slowly.

The sun was setting behind him, coating his face in swathes of warmth and you couldn’t help but think the same about him. You had seen him in the sunrise and now with the sunset, and you thought to yourself, If only I could start and end every day with him like this. And so, you decided, it was time to reach for something new, even if it came with the risk of losing what you had now. Hoping for a Christmas miracle, you finally whispered back to him.

“Joshua,” you began. Even in the disappearing daylight, Joshua’s eyes twinkled away, anticipating what you had to say. “I think I… I think I–”

The sound of a car honking turned both of your attention to the source – Jeonghan’s car filled with too many people who were all waving at the two of you. “Hurry up, lovebirds! We’re starving,” Mingyu called from the passenger’s side as they sped away.

The moment was gone, but as you looked at Joshua, he gazed at you with the same fondness as before. He stood up and offered a hand out to you, helping you up. “Let’s…” he began with a sigh. “Let’s try this again tomorrow, okay?”

Your hand still in his, he gave it a squeeze before letting it go.

The next day, you woke up to the sight of blinding sun bouncing off the snow blanketed streets. It was refreshing to be able to wake up well past noon in your childhood bedroom to the sound of your parents listening to Christmas music downstairs. It all felt so familiar, just like you never left.

However, what did shock you, was finding Joshua at the kitchen counter, helping your parents make Christmas cookies. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was still messy, but he was laughing along as your dad butchered all the words to “Frosty the Snowman.” No one had noticed you coming down the stairs, and you appreciated the chance to observe the scene quietly. Joshua just seemed to fit in every aspect of your life so perfectly, and it almost made you regret the years you had spent pining from a distance. But Joshua was right, things happen when they’re meant to.

Finally deciding to make your presence known, you walked to the fridge to grab a glass of orange juice before sitting at the counter, across from where Joshua was adding the finishing touches to a gingerbread man.

“Morning,” you greeted him. “I see my parents have taken you hostage.”

Joshua laughed as your dad responded. “Not true, he chose to come here with his mother, so the labor was implied.” You looked around, Joshua’s mom was nowhere in sight.

“Where is Mrs. Hong anyway?” you asked.

“She went to the gala venue to start with the decorations,” Joshua answered. “Told me to be productive here.”

“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” you questioned. “I could have helped.”

Your parents and Joshua all shared a laugh. “Oh honey,” Joshua cooed. “We tried.” You blushed at the nickname. He dusted his hands off against the apron he was wearing before pulling his phone out to show you the evidence. He had taken a video of him trying to wake you up.

The video showed you sprawled across the bed like a starfish, and as Joshua tried to shake you to wake you up, you swatted his hand away. Even though he wasn’t in the frame, you could hear the smile in his voice. He would never let you forget that he had this video. You hid your face in embarrassment.

“Anyway,” your mom said. “We’re just wrapping up, so you two can go ahead and get ready.”

“I didn’t bring any of my stuff with me so I’ll head home,” Joshua explained as he untied his apron. “I’ll swing by around 6 to come get you?” he asked.

“That’s perfect,” you smiled at him as he nodded and helped your mom place the last of the cookies into a box, ready to be taken to the venue. “What about you guys?” you asked your parents.

“We’re going to the venue now,” your mom explained. “We’ll be getting ready there after setting everything up.” You watched from the counter as your dad and Joshua picked up all of the boxes of desserts and carefully walked to the door to load them in the car. You called out a goodbye to them as you went back up to your room to get ready.

When the doorbell finally rang, it was 5:50 p.m. and you were still not ready. Your makeup was halfway done and your hair was still in a mess of rollers on top of your head. “You’re early,” you exclaimed as you opened the door to an elegantly dressed, hair perfectly coiffed, cologne scented Joshua. “Wow, you look…”

He smirked at you as he held out a flower that he was holding. A single white blossom. “Handsome? Hot? Like heaven on legs? An angel?” he teased.

“Beautiful,” you finished. Joshua looked surprised and with his hair slicked back, you could see the tips of his ears turn a shade of red.

“That’s my line,” he recovered.

“Not yet, I’m not,” you laughed, shaking your head as you let him into the house. He stepped in, but stopped in front of you.

“You always are,” he said again in that same tone from last night. The kind that made you go weak in the knees and made you wish time would pause for just a little bit, long enough for you to memorize the freckles on his face and find constellations in his eyes. Then he smiled, and you remembered how you looked, not even close to ready, but he still smiled at you like that, and you let yourself think, this what it looks like when Joshua Hong loves you.

You almost left the house just like that. It wouldn’t matter how you actually dressed, because you felt beautiful. But, who would you be if you weren’t constantly trying to beat Joshua Hong at his own games? So you snapped out of your haze and finished getting ready, and the look he gave you as you finally came back down the stairs indeed felt like a victory.

“Cat got your tongue, Hong?” you teased. Now in your heels, you were nearly eye level with him. His cheeks had turned pink and instead of replying, he shook his head and laughed.

“I suddenly feel underdressed,” he joked, offering you the flower he had earlier. Before you could reach out to grab it, however, he reached out and tucked it behind your ear. “I know it’ll fall out, but I couldn’t find a corsage or anything.”

“A corsage?” you questioned. “Are you taking me to the prom, Joshua?”

“Just humor me,” he offered his elbow out to you. “It’s what I should’ve done in high school.”

The gala was in full swing when the two of you finally arrived. A band was playing jazzy renditions of Christmas carols, couples were on the dance floor, and everyone was dressed to the nines in shades of red, green, and gold. Joshua’s friends were split into two tables near the back, but before the two of you headed towards them, Joshua pulled you away to the buffet table.

“Hungry?” you asked Joshua with a teasing smile.

“Not really,” he admitted but grabbed a cookie anyway. “I just wanted you to myself for a little bit longer.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” you questioned.

“I just know that as soon as we walk over there,” Joshua pointed to the table where the boys were all gathered around Chan, Seungcheol, and Mingyu having a water bottle flipping contest. “Either Jeonghan or Chan is gonna steal you away and I won’t be able to see you until the night is over.” He took a bite of his cookie.

“And what a loss that would be,” you joked. You grabbed a cup of punch and a cookie as well. “Did you make this one? It looks very Joshy.”

“Yes I did,” he nodded. “And yes, it would be a loss. Save me a dance?” He held his hand up, raising his pinky to yours for a pinky promise.

“Always,” you affirmed, crossing your pinky with his.

Sure enough, as soon as you sat down at your seat, Jeonghan and Chan both were pulling you right back up. Joshua shot you a knowing look and mouthed “Told you,” as you were dragged toward the dance floor.

The band began to play an upbeat Christmas song, loud and brassy. Jeonghan twirled you around as he spoke, loudly for you to hear over the music. “Took you long enough,” he joked.

“What do you mean?” you asked with a laugh.

“We were placing bets on how long Joshua would try to keep you away from us,” Chan answered, doing some dance that did not fit the vibe of the song. It was quite endearing how well the boys knew each other.

“Did you finally get to talk to him?” Jeonghan asked. The middle of the dance floor was a very odd place to be having this conversation, but yet so fitting for the two boys with you.

“Well we were kind of getting to it last night,” you confessed. “Until we were rudely interrupted by a gaggle of impatient and hungry men.”

“Oh we thought you guys were already making out,” Chan announced. By now he was just going through decades of trendy dance moves. He was on the mashed potato now.

“What? No,” you were thankful that it was a bit dark in the ballroom, they couldn’t see the blush on your face. “We were just talking.”

“Lame,” Jeonghan booed, dragging the word out and giving you a thumbs down.

“I thought you wanted me to talk to him,” you questioned.

“Yeah, talk about something juicy,” he retorted. “If you didn’t confess, and there was no kissing, you were just being lame and I don’t care.”

“Well how am I supposed to talk to him if I’m dancing with you fools?” You rolled your eyes. The tempo began to slow as the band began the Christmas Waltz.

“Oh, perfect,” Chan mused as he and Jeonghan shared a mischievous look. Before you could stop them, they had already run back to the table and grabbed a confused looking Joshua who was halfway to taking a bite of his cookie. Once they returned, they shoved him towards you, and he nearly fell to the floor on top of you, but caught his momentum by resting his hands on your shoulders.

You took a step back in recoil, blinking in surprise. Joshua repositioned himself so one hand was at your waist, drawing you in, and his other hand held yours against his chest. “Hey,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you breathed out. He was close enough to you that you could smell the cinnamon in his cologne.

“I guess I was wrong about those two,” Joshua laughed. “Remind me to thank them later.”

“Will do,” you laughed. “But, maybe don’t thank them too much. We have an audience.” You nodded towards the table where at least half of the boys had their phones out, taking videos of the two of you and giving a thumbs up. You leaned your forehead against Joshua’s shoulder in attempt to hide from the attention.

“Ignore them,” he chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “This is one of my favorite Christmas songs,” he announced and began singing along quietly. You tried not to wince at the way his breath tickled against your ear in a private serenade.

It’s that time of year,

When the world falls in love.

You pulled back to look at him, his eyes reflecting the light from the disco ball and his face lit up in the dim glow of the strings of Christmas lights. You found yourself leaning in before you could find a reason not to. When your lips finally met his, it felt like coming home. Like the ending of a melody you’ve been chasing your whole life, the answer to a question you’ve been asking since you met him. He was smiling when you pulled away.

“I love you,” he said so easily as if he'd been saying it to you his whole life.

Your mouth opened, as if to say something, but no words came out. Joshua smiled softly down at you. “There is absolutely no way you can argue your way out of this one,” he teased.

“I wasn’t going to argue,” you defended yourself. “I was just… you beat me to it.”

“Well,” he leaned down to press a kiss against your temple. “You’ll have plenty of chances to beat me to it from now on.”

From the side of your vision, you could see Jeonghan, Chan and the others silently cheering the two of you on. Joshua rolled his eyes at them before leaning back in to kiss you. “Might as well give them something to cheer for,” he breathed against your lips.

This, you thought, this whole time, I have known exactly what it feels like to love Joshua Hong. Loving him feels like coming home.

It wasn’t until the day after, when the boys were back at the field playing soccer that you finally got to ask Joshua the one question you’d been dying to ask him since your first day of work with him. He decided to sit out from the game and watch from the bleachers with you instead.

Your arm was looped through his and your head was resting on his shoulder. Your entwined hands were resting on his knee and it was comfortable.

“Oh hey,” you cut through the silence. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Duh,” Joshua replied. “We met at my graduation party, where Chan brought you as his date. Look where that got him though.” He laughed and you could feel it. When you sat up and pulled your arm out of his, he looked at you in concern.

“That’s not where we met,” you bit your lip as you broke the news to him.

“What do you mean?” Joshua argued. “I remember it clear as day. Chan told me he was bringing a girl from school, and I made fun of him for it. Then you walked into the kitchen looking for a soda, and that’s when we met.”

“No…” you began. “We met at my freshman orientation.” Joshua looked confused as you continued. “You were my orientation leader, and you introduced me to Chan.”

Joshua’s face paled in embarrassment and he buried his head in your shoulder with a groan. You patted his back, and couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips.

“I don’t even remember meeting my own girlfriend,” he groaned in disappointment.

“It’s fine, Shua,” you assured him. “You made up for it anyway.”

“How?” he questioned, finally looking up at you with a pout.

“When you remembered my name that day you walked into my classroom.”

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Code Broken (4/5) SERIES dark!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After your last horrible interaction with Joel you run into him months later. Things don't go as expected.

Rating: 18+ (

Word Count: 3.2

Warnings: This is a very dark!Joel fic with lots of dubious consent. Yes, the f!reader gets into it eventually but I believe y'all can see how its dubious. Unprotected p in v sex, coming on v, semi-public sex, desk sex, rough sex.

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Chapter 4: I will Survive

You barely make it through the night.

You've begun packing, throwing your clothes into a duffel before the sun cracks through the sky.

For the next two months you stay at Trish's. In her guest room that will soon become the babies room. It's decorated in blues and greens and feels peaceful.

You tell her that your home needs repairs. That you need somewhere to stay. Cliff is so kind to you, never making you feel like a burden.

"When do you think the repairs will be done?" Trish asks you one morning, sounding strained and you can tell your visit is rapidly becoming overstayed.

"Funny you mention that, because it's actually finished tomorrow," you chirp happily. "Just found out."

Despite the community's size you haven't run into Joel. You overheard rumors that he has left for a few months on some mission with Tommy, but you never care to check the veracity.

You don't care. You never want to see Joel Miller again.

///

It's April before you do.

He's returned after months away. He looks leaner, his hair longer, it curls at the back. You catch him leaving his house just as your walking up to yours.

You both lock eyes and go still. He blinks rapidly, his mouth parting slightly when all of a sudden you hear Tess call your name and you flinch.

She gives you a short wave which you return weakly before she walks up to Joel with a strained smile.

You dart into the house, feeling Joel's eyes on you the whole time.

////

When you have Trish over one night and she sees Joel walking into his house she tells you that Tess and Joel aren't together anymore.

"She's with some guy across town," Trish tells you as she strokes her swollen belly one night over at your place. "Has been for a while. Does patrols with him."

You realize it only took so long to notice because you willed yourself not to think about that house or its inhabitants.

"Makes more sense to me than grumpy ever did," Trish says with a wave towards his place.

You nod but Trish has adopted a frown and her eyeline is wet. Ever since she's been pregnant she's been more emotional.

"But now he's all alone again."

'"Maybe he deserves it," you answer tightly.

///

In early June there's an unexpected heat wave that has all sorts of insects popping up.

You talk with your coworkers and they tell you the horses will need blankets to keep them protected. Midges, one of the women tell you. Midges are horrible for those baby foals.

You're in charge of delivering them that warm afternoon, your hair sticking to your temples as you round the barn.

Markus is there tethering some of the horses. He smiles when he sees you arrive, waving and ushering you into the large office to cool down.

It’s nice in here, a large desk and window with chairs that smell like fresh pine. They must have been carved here because they are so ornate, so delicate to have been moved from place to place.

"I like your dress," Markus offers with a shy smile as he passes you the metal water bottle he carries everywhere. You take a grateful sip before pushing it back to him.

"Oh," you thank him, fingering the skirt of the dress with its warm butter yellow color and sweet hand embroidered daisies. You motion to the blankets in your arms.

"Just dropping these off before I head home."

"Perfect," Markus takes some of the pile from you gratefully. "The new babies are gonna love 'em. The midges are brutal this year."

"Happy to help."

Another figure strides into the building, shaking the bag his shoulder as he enters, speaking gruffly.

"Fucking hot out there. Gonna need extra water for the foals. And something to cover 'em with."

It's Joel Miller.

Of course it is.

"Good timing," Markus laughs in Joel's direction before motioning to you standing there with the blankets in your arms. "She just brought a bunch of blankets for them."

Joel stills as his focus moves to include you. He holds himself stiffly, trying not to draw attention to his sudden behavioral anomaly. You're hidden behind Markus, not wanting to be seen by Joel.

"Uh, Nightshade needs to be tied up," Joel finishes lamely, his words drifting off when he sees how close you are to Markus.

"Already done."

Joel glances at the bundle of blankets that are still in your arms then casts a sharp look at your face. You drag your eyes away, forcing them to Markus.

“Thanks for the water.”

Joel moves into the cramped office in the back of the building, his wide shoulders flexing under his t-shirt as he goes. You do your best not to follow his frame as it leaves.

"It's nice to talk to ya,' Markus says, turning back to face you. "Feels like it's been a while. Miss us all hangin' out."

You see Joel stopping at the door of the office, reaching to grab something on the wall. You try your best to ignore him.

Despite the fact that Markus and you aren't dating, you realize it must not look that way to Joel.

"Same here." You feel your pulse picking up a bit. "I'm happy the baby is here safe and healthy. Just not happy that it came so early we didn't have a proper send off party."

"There's always the wedding next month," Markus suggests. "You better save me a dance."

You can feel Joel's glare from here.

"Only if you don't mind being seen in public with the worst dancer in Jackson City," you laugh. Your voice is cheery and you're smiling warmly, but the chill of Joel's glare is going through you.

You make a move to leave, anxious to be away from him. But Markus taps you gently on the wrist, forcing your attention back.

"I wanted to know if you were around for a drink tonight." Markus says abruptly, his voice lowered so Joel can't hear.

He winds rope around his palm and bicep, looking to you expectantly. You're confused at the intensity in Markus' face.

"Should we invite -"

"Just you and me."

His reply surprises you. After the incident in your bedroom with Markus back in December you two haven't been alone together. Haven't spoken about it and that's suited you just fine.

You'd just thought about it as a onetime fling for the both of you. But judging by the way Markus' gaze is drifting down your body he's hoping for a repeat performance. And why not? You're both single, both attractive. Why shouldn't you give into those carnal desires?

"I thought maybe we could hang out at your place after," Markus says softly. "Only if you want."

You feel your cheeks pink at the confirmation. You can see Joel in your peripherals busying himself. You wonder how much he's heard and then decide you hope he's heard it all. Fuck him.

"Sure. I'd love to."

"Yeah?" Markus looks both relieved and excited. "Pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds great."

"Markus!" Joel barks sharply from inside his office. "Last time I checked animals die when they're dehydrated."

Markus ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry Joel! On it!"

You watch him give a pleased smile that rouges his cheeks as be begins filling up the water pails. Markus moves past you out into the stables, the door shutting behind him.

Then it's just you and Joel. He's in the office writing, you can hear the scratch of the old ballpoint. You consider just leaving but you hate how he just treated Markus. And if you don't stop it now, it'll just continue.

You march into his office with the bundle of blankets.

"Couldn't give them water yourself?"

"It's his job," Joel replies.

"You know what I mean." Your tone is cool and even. "Shouting at him like that? Ordering him around?"

"I wasn't. You must be reading into things. You're good at that." He lets the pen fall onto the desk at that. "You're not actually going out with him are you?"

"Why do you care?"

Any amusement in Joel's eyes is gone. "Gonna let him fuck you?"

You bite back a scathing comment and instead you throw the bundle of blankets you've been holding onto his desk. His notes go fluttering everywhere.

"Tell the group if you need more," you spit. "I'll get Mary to drop them off next time."

Joel's cheeks have gone red, his jaw ticking at her clenches his teeth. You knew messing up his desk would piss him off and you're pleased. But his eyes aren't hard, they're impossibly heated and they're trailing over your dress, exposed now that you've dropped the fabric onto his desk.

You can almost hear the sound of his brain buffering when he realizes what you're wearing.

The yellow sundress with embroidered daisies. And you’re taken back to months ago, standing outside the Tipsy Bison with Joel looking uncharacteristically earnest as he spoke.

“Do you remember what you were wearin’ that night?”

“No”

“Dress. Yellow with little flowers. You could see your tits through the fabric, hard nipples 'n all. You kept bumping into me, your skin all smooth. I couldn't stay there beside you the whole movie. Not when you looked like that. Not when all I could think about was fucking you.”

You don't have enough time to react. He rises up from behind his desk, stalking in your direction before he kicks the door behind you closed.

"Joel what-"

He large hands go to your shoulders and he brings down the straps of your dress harshly, tugging the top down and freeing your naked breasts to the air. You gasp.

"I was mad at myself for wantin' you so bad. Wanted to punish you for makin’ me want you.”

Your nipples crinkle under his tongue, his hands cupping your breasts, kneading them between licks and sucks to those straining nubs.

Anything you were about to say is erased. Gone from your mind and replaced with the sensation of Joel's mouth on you. He sucks, tongue laving at you as shots of electricity pull through your body, tugging at your navel.

Your hand is at the back of his neck, tangled in his curls, urging him to take more. To suck and taste and lick. You tilt your head back, exposing the column of your throat.

But then he stretches and takes you by the elbow, whirling you around to face away from him. With a sharp movement he clears his desk completely, sending blankets and paper and pens sailing to the ground before bending you over it.

He bunches your dress up to your hips before tugging down your panties.

"You're fucking cruel," Joel grunts and you can hear him fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper. You know he's not going to be patient when you feel his cock being slotted against the seam of your cunt.

"You knew what you were doing," he grunts as he thrusts up into you causing your body to jolt. "You knew the minute you put on that dress."

You moan by way of reply because right now he feels so fucking good. He's got one hand braced between your shoulder blades, holding you down and propping your ass at an angle so you can best take his cock through your swollen and dripping folds.

He feels so right between your thighs and you never want him to stop. You don't care that he's a bastard. You want him, you need him.

"Tried to make me feel bad all those months," Joel is mumbling through hisses of pleasure. "Acted like you didn't want me."

"I didn’t"

"Well she did," Joel growls, sliding his fingers over your clit. Tingles shoot their way through your entire body.

You moan at the desire clouding his voice like smoke. You’re nodding, gasping "Yes" over and over like a prayer.

"You let me taste paradise and took it away," Joel growls as he fucks you. "Ignored me. Let me believe you didn't want me."

"I don't want you," you gasp, your cheek biting into the wood of the table.

“Yeah you do," Joel says as he licks his lips. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here letting me fuck you on my desk with a pussy so wet she's already left a puddle."

"I'm not --"

"If you hated this you wouldn't be tryin' to keep quiet so your little boyfriend doesn't hear me fucking you."

"Not my b-boyfriend," you argue without power behind your words. You don't care about Markus. All you care about is coming on Joel's cock.

"Good ,"Joel rasps, pulling at your hair and causing you to arch back off the table. "Cuz he hasn't been fucking you right. Maybe he needs some lessons on satisfying you because I know how much you love taking cock."

You're trying to formulate a reply but you're boneless, your body jolting with every thrust. He feels so good, his fingers working your clit as he slams into you. He's nudging your feet apart with his boots so he can fuck you deeper.

"Or maybe I'll just get you to make deliveries here every week," Joel grunts into your ear, his hips slapping into your ass loudly. "Then I'll make you suck my cock under my desk while I have a meeting with your boyfriend. How does that sound?"

You're moaning at the thought of it. You hate that this taboo acknowledgement is turning you on so much.

"You like that?" Joel is pounding you harder now, his movements severe. His hips snack against your bare ass as you take his cock deeper. The desk jumps a little with each thrust.

"You like the idea of bein' fucked in secret, pretty eyes? My dirty little secret?"

The pleasure of his words and his cock is rolling you over the edge. He feels so perfectly there filling you so wonderfully. He’s jerked you back to him, his tongue licking at the pulse of your neck.

"You locked your window," Joel rasps, nipping your chin. "Why’d you keep it locked?"

"I was mad at you," you answer through grunts.

"Liar," Joel hisses at you, his cock thrusting in and out, grazing your clit. He forces you back over the desk, bending and accommodating his girth as his hips shifts against the meat of your ass. "Tell the truth."

"I was . .. scared."

"Of what."

"Of you."

A swift palm comes to strike your ass cheek. Not hard, not painful, but surprising.

"Truth," is all he says before his palm rubs over where he slapped. He's pulling you back against his cock, fucking you still.

"I was afraid Tess-"

Another smack to your ass. "Try again."

"People breaking in -"

Another smack. And another one when you try another lie.

"Cuz if I left it unlocked I knew you were gonna use it," you finally admit, your face flushed and your eyes wet. "And I wasn't gonna be able to say no."

"There we go," Joel soothes, rubbing his palm along your flanks. His thumb comes to your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes are on him. "You want me to use it, don't you?"

"No," you lie, your hips moving in tandem with his. You're close, so close to that bliss..

"Fucking liar," Joel growls lowly.

Then he pulls from you viciously and you cry out, immediately missing the sensation. He whirls you around to face him before shoving you up onto the desk. He steps between your parted thighs with your legs on either side of his hips and his cock is slipping into you again. You hold his shoulders, bouncing against him and biting your lip to keep from moaning.

"You walk around in this fucking dress, throwing yourself anyone but me?" Joel is panting as he glares down at you, his thumb circling the pearl of your clit as you arch against him. "I already told you this cunt is mine. No one fucks it but me."

"Not yours-" you're slurring.

"She's mine, baby" Joel assures you, pulling out savagely and then realigning himself up at you entrance. "Just look how she takes me."

You hate yourself for looking, but you do. You look down the length of your body and watch as Joel's beautiful cock slides into you. Its wet and thick and so fucking gorgeous. But it's Joel's eyes, his big beautiful blackened eyes half-lidded and smirking down at you that has you squirming with pleasure.

"Joel," you whimper. "Feels..."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

His voice so soft and smooth. You nod, your body jerking with every deep thrust.

"Cuz this cunt is mine, isn't she, pretty eyes?"

You nod again.

"You gonna let that boy touch my cunt?"

You shake your head.

"Gonna let him fuck your mouth?"

Another shake of your head.

"Use your words."

"Only you."

He smiles serenely at you, his hips shifting and circling. He extends this pleasure, watching your face as you groan out his name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"Atta girl," Joel coos.

Your body is tingling as your orgasm hits through you like a warm bath, spreading through every part of your body, making you tremble and whimper, making a mess where the two of you remained joined, Joel’s cock still.

"Oh yes, baby," Joel croons as he watches you spasm on his cock. "Feels so good doesn't it? I always know how to make you feel good."

When you come down he pulls himself out with a long grunt and begins to stroke himself in earnest.

"Where do you want it?"

Still panting you look up at Joel with a dazed smile. He watches you lean back until you're laying with your spine flush on the desk. You spread your legs for him there, putting yourself on full display for him.

He makes a low groaning noise, murmuring about her can't wait to taste you again as you're sliding your palm down your abdomen, your second and middle finger coming to part the glistening lips of your pussy to him. You look up at him through your lashes, smiling.

"There?" Joel chokes out, his eyes fixed on the delicious sight of your soaking cunt exposed lascivious for him.

"Yeah," you say with a sigh, tilting back. "Right there."

"F-fuck-k," he chokes out, his eyes fixed between your legs. "She wants my come."

"She does," you whimper, parting your thighs further.

Joel's hand is a blur, pumping and circling.

"Mark my pussy with your come, Joel." You beg, your hands pressing your thighs open to the desk. "She's yours."

He gives out a garbled grunt as he comes, thick ropes hitting your thighs and cunt, decorating you with his spend as you murmur your desire for more and more.

He's panting above you, one hand still braced on the desk. He watches you laying there looking up at the ceiling with a small smile on your face.

With one of the blankets he cleans you up the best he can, tucking himself away and then he grins, reaching for you and pulling you to sit atop the desk. He's still in the vee of your legs but he brings your dress down, covering you.

You look at him questioningly. This is usually the part where he leaves. The silence. Instead his eyes are warm and one of his hands comes to cup your cheek.

"So perfect," he says moving his face towards yours. You know he's about to kiss you and you tilt away from him. You two don’t kiss. Not really. He looks irritated until he sees the tears gathered along your lash line.

Joel's other hand goes to cup your other cheek and he gently cranes your face towards his.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m horrible,” you whisper, sniffling.

"How are you horrible?"

"Because I don't do things like this," you explain through sniffling. "I don't have sex with perfectly nice guys in windows so other guys can jerk off to it. I don't let strangers fuck my mouth and come on me and then have them go down on me and act don't care if I see them again. I don’t hate someone and then let them fuck me like this. I don't fuck men in relationships."

"I'm not with-"

"But you were and we did."

"It was my fuck up," Joel tells you in a rumble. "Not yours. You went along with it but I never shoulda done it. Not when I was with Tess, not when I knew how I felt about y-"

He stops abruptly seeing that you’re shaking your head, tears beginning in earnest.

"Pretty eyes don't cry, please."

It's the first time he's used the nickname outside of a sexual activity between the two of you and it startles you to staring up at him.

"Please," he all but whispers. He's so close you could count the freckles along his lean neck.

"Stop," you insist, wrenching from him.

Joel stumbles back as you push him from you. You throw yourself from the table and stride from the room out into the barn, slamming the door before he can say another word.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #dad joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel

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aoioozora · 2 months

Text

Simon.

Part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Enjoy Simon being a gentleman in this part 😉. I can't find a nice pic to post here so maybe I'll skip that. Anyway, just wanted to let y'all know that in this fic, reader is 25 years old and Simon is 28.

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub, leave her Johnny, leave- oi, ye cannae be serious. Take off that mask!”

Johnny's singing was interrupted by Simon, who was just entering his living room, dressed and ready to leave to meet ____. He looked at the agitated Johnny, who was now sitting up straight on the couch.

“What d'you mean?” Simon asked, pretending not to have understood or heard his friend.

“The maaask. Take it off,” Johnny ordered, gesticulating wildly, “Why'd ye want tae wear it if ye showed yer face to her already?”

Simon rolled his eyes, now taking off the mask, making Johnny smile. He settled back on the couch comfortably. “That's more like it. Oh, also… Catch.” Johnny stuffed his hand in his pocket and threw something at Simon, which he caught.

It was a condom.

“Johnny! I don't fucking need this!” Simon roared, throwing back the contraceptive, which hit his friend in the face and fell on his lap.

“Ye don't? So yer gonna rrrrrawdog her then, are ye, ye animal?” Johnny smirked, clearly trying to annoy Simon, especially by rolling his r's more than usual.

“Johnny…” Simon's voice lowered to a threatening growl.

The room thundered with Johnny's laughter; having known Simon too long, he wasn't threatened by him, but he relented regardless, not wanting him to be in a bad mood before meeting his crush. “Okay, okay, if ye have nae use for a condom, I have something better for ye.” He beckoned his friend to sit with him on the couch.

“This better be good.” Simon narrowed his eyes, noting a mischievous glint in his best friend's eyes as he sat down.

“She's an author, yeah? Those book lassies will love this. I'll tell ye.”

In the meantime, Simon's crush found herself in front of her mirror getting dolled up by her best friend, Lindsey, who turned the bathroom into a university lecture hall.

“Tell you what, babe,” said she as she very lightly brushed some blush on her friend's cheeks, “Boys will never make the first move, yeah? So you have to openly flirt with them, right? You literally have to hold up a sign at them telling them you're interested.”

____ tried to chuckle, but Lindsey lightly slapped her shoulder. “Don't move yet,” she ordered, throwing her long, curly red hair over her shoulder.

Lindsey finished up the simple, natural looking makeup look and spritzed some setting spray on her friend's face. ____ still didn't dare move, because Lindsey was checking for any mistakes, scanning with her big green eyes. A bit of an odd thing to do, especially after putting the setting spray.

“Lovely!” she exclaimed, slamming down the can of setting spray on the bathroom counter, “Now you can move.”

While ____ admired herself and Lindsey's makeup skills in the mirror, Lindsey watched, her smile slowly disappearing; her shoulders slumped slightly as she moved behind her friend, giving her a worried look in the mirror.

“What's wrong, Linny?” she asked, noticing the look.

“This Simon guy… Is he really good?” Lindsey whispered, lightly squeezing the other's shoulders while glancing at the phone on the bathroom counter. “He's not like the other guy, right?”

____’s brows furrowed slightly. She placed her hand over Lindsey's and squeezed it. “Don't worry, Simon's nice, and we're actually a lot closer in age, if that's what worries you.”

Lindsey was relieved about the smaller age gap, but didn't look completely convinced. She said, “He's nice so far. You do know that a crush is a lack of information, right?”

The only infuriating thing about Lindsey was how she could get a little too realistic.

____ sighed. “Linny, that's the whole reason why I'm going to hang out with him: to find out if he's better than nice.”

Lindsey huffed, but nodded anyway. “Okay, but if anything happens, you know who to call.”

“You worry too much.”

“Because you're literally so hopeless when it comes to men.” Lindsey let out a chuckle as she lovingly wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and gave her a back hug. ____ leaned into it, grateful for the concern of her ever worrying friend.

It was soon time to leave. The two ladies headed downstairs to the entrance of the building, where ____ was to wait for Simon to pick her up. Since Lindsey had other plans, she couldn't wait with her friend, and had to go.

And so did ____ wait by herself, watching the cars go by on the glistening, wet streets. The night air was cold from an earlier rain, and the jacket in her hands seemed to be calling her to wear it and feel warm.

“I hope he won't find it weird if I wear his jacket,” she thought as she put the garment on after much mental debate. The warmth immediately silenced her thoughts, and she just decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

Before long, Simon pulled up to the entrance, but the pillion was occupied by an unfamiliar man with a cheeky smile and a short, dark brown mohawk. As he got off, he whispered something to Simon and then turned around. The man grinned at the waiting lady and then walked off. She, confused, returned the gesture with a little smile of her own and then walked up to Simon.

“Who was that?” she asked as soon as she was near the motorcycle.

“Don't mind him. He's my friend, Johnny. I had to drop him off around here since he had some stuff to do, so…” he shrugged. “Were you waiting long?”

She smiled. “Not at all. I came out just five minutes ago.”

“Brilliant,” he said with a nod and then took notice of her outfit. “You're wearing my jacket,” he observed, sounding amused.

She noticed his cheeks going up from behind his mask; a smile. “Uh, yeah,” she answered, blushing a little, “I'm sorry, I felt a little cold so I put it on.”

“No worries.” His voice mellowed as he stared at her, taking in the sight of her in his jacket, “Keep it on. You look good in it.”

“Thanks,” she grinned, now taking hold of his shoulder as she got up on the pillion.

Johnny was in the distance, watching the two with wide smiles. He even managed to secretly snap a few photos of them as they talked so that he could tease Simon with it later.

“Hey you! Delete that picture right now!” a high pitched voice ordered behind Johnny, making him flinch in surprise.

He immediately turned around, but saw nobody. But when he looked down, he saw a little lady in front of him, arms crossed and staring at him with furrowed brows.

Johnny, for a moment, was taken in by her beauty. Her pale face was dotted with red freckles, more intense on her cheeks, and her hair was a deep red like the color of the setting sun, loosely coiled like curled satin ribbons. Her flashing eyes were a light green, the color of grass reflecting evening sunlight.

It took a moment for him to regain himself, and when he did, he cleared his throat, saying, “Lassie, that's my friend there,” he answered, pointing to Simon, “I'm gonna tease him with this photo. I'm no’ gonna delete it.”

“And that girl with him is my friend,” she declared, “And I don't really trust that guy she's going out with today.”

Johnny wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but his eyebrows rose with intrigue anyway.

“Small world,” he remarked and then put forward a proposal with a wide grin, “Tell ye wit, wee lassie, we can dae something together. Let's both stalk them. Ye get to see my lad Simon in a good light, and I get to take some candids of them, yeah? Wit dae ye think?” He opened both his hands out to her and batted his eyelids, hoping she would accept.

“No!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms, “It's not good to stalk.”

Johnny groaned. “But dinnae ye want tae see if Simon is good for yer best friend? This is a win-win situation! I can show ye all his good points!”

“You're only saying that because you're his friend,” she challenged.

“No, no, listen here lassie,” he waved his hand, now meeting her eye, “I've known Simon since we were wee lads. I know everything about him, and I can assure ye that he's good. Let him have a chance, won't ye?”

The little lady paused. Was she going to trust him? While she wanted her friend to be happy, she didn't want to sabotage her friend's chances with her crush because of her incessant worrying.

Johnny could see her mental debate and smirked at how funny her thoughtful face looked; it was a sneer with furrowed brows, while her fingers tapped over her crossed arms. She eventually relented.

“Perfect! Now we go stalk them.” He held out his hand to her. “By the way, I'm John, or Johnny.”

She cautiously took his hand and shook it, answering, “Lindsey.”

Simon and ____ already reached the restaurant they decided to have dinner in. He led her to a quieter part of the establishment where they could chat in peace, and just as she was about to pull out her chair to sit, he held out his hand to stop her.

“Allow me,” he smiled and pulled out the chair for her.

Her face glowed with joy and excitement at this display of chivalry as she sat down. Her reaction made him smirk to himself, mentally thanking Johnny for this important tip.

“You're such a gentleman,” she praised, smiling widely as she watched him take his seat opposite to her, “I know we're in the age of the strong, independent woman, but wow, it's actually really nice to be treated like this.”

Her blushes were encouragement enough, and he smiled.

“Thank you, I try,” he bragged. “Do you normally like this sort of thing? Or do you like it from me?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

She laughed, not yet willing to admit that she liked it especially from him. She answered, “I like it generally. It’s just nice to know that someone is thoughtful enough to do a gesture like that, you know? Even though it was the standard back in the day.”

Simon took mental note of that.

Any further conversation was interrupted when a waiter brought them two menus and glasses of water. While the two pored over the laminated card to decide what to get, the lady was momentarily distracted by the sight of the man in front of her.

He wore a black button up shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up his thick forearm, the rest of it tightening around his flexed biceps; the unbuttoned collar displayed his neck and a metal chain underneath, which made her wonder what was dangling at the end of it. He wore blue chinos, and black sneakers. It was the best casual outfit he could put together with Johnny's help.

The outfit, in addition to his handsome, unobscured face was a treat to sore eyes. She couldn't help but allow her eye to linger on the curious scar on his cheek, and to wonder about the cause of it.

Simon noticed her gaze and he met her eyes with a cheeky smile. “You're staring,” he told her.

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sheepish smirk. “I was just thinking your outfit looks really nice.”

“Thank you, I try,” he echoed his earlier line with a smirk and a proud shrug, but really, he would've been hopeless without Johnny giving him such meticulous advice on the basic rules of dressing well. “You look nice too,” he decided to turn the tables on her, “Especially wearing that.” He pointed at his jacket that she was still wearing.

She blushed at that. “I can't take it off. It's nice and toasty in here.”

“I don't mind you wearing it for the rest of the evening, so long as you give it back later. It's my favourite.”

She grinned. “I'll take good care of it.”

The waiter came by again, and the two placed an order for a 12 inch pizza to share and some drinks.

Small talk was made, until it led to the topic of her novel.

“I only just finished reading Firefly Trails a couple days ago and I must say that you're a brilliant author,” Simon praised, “I could not have expected a plot twist when Adelheid was betrayed by Elystran just to get a hold of the magical fireflies.”

The lady snorted proudly and jokingly patted herself on the back. “You can count on me to make a good plot twist.”

“No, but seriously. I really didn't see it coming,” Simon leaned forward slightly with eagerness twinkling in his dark eyes, “You see a friend betraying someone all the time in the media, yeah? But this one was so unexpected, especially when Elystran stole the bottle of captive fireflies from Adelheid. It's really awful how he had no remorse in potentially letting her die without a cure for her disease, just so he could save the kingdom he was going to rule. He was a very convincing actor.”

She found herself gazing at him as he went on with his long winded speech about Elystran, the anti-hero of her novel, who pretended to be Adelheid's close ally. It was heartwarming to her to see his enthusiasm for her work, but she also wondered if he resonated with Elystran in some way.

Simon's pale face was a little pink with exertion after the speech and he finally sat back, tugging at his collar and flapping his shirt. “A bit hot in here, innit?” he asked.

“The air con is working just fine. I think it's because of your passionate speech that you're feeling so hot,” she said with a grin.

Simon's pink face turned a hint more pink at the observation. He was usually reserved with people he knew a little less, but he hadn't realised how passionate and talkative he had gotten about a fictional character. He could attest this to the fact that she wrote so well as to stir his normally taciturn feelings. Art never stirred his soul, but if hers did, he was damned.

He nodded, admitting, “Well, it was because you write so well. Anyone who doesn't talk so passionately about it is missing a few bolts.”

The high regard in the compliment made her giggle. She rested her chin on her hand and looked teasingly at him, saying, “So, you told me that you're getting more into reading thanks to Firefly Trails.”

“I never wanted to be a reader, but it's all your fault now that you're turning me into one.” Simon unconsciously mirrored her as he smirked, returning her look with his playful sarcasm.

“I'm honored,” she grinned at him, “Do you want recommendations for more books?”

Simon pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He handed the phone to her. “Fill my cup, darling.”

A wide smile graced her face as she excitedly snatched the phone and started typing away her list of recommended books. Simon watched her with wonder, smiling at her enthusiasm. He was truly interested in reading now, thanks to her, and to see her so excited about suggesting him more made him feel loved, in a way.

And the love of a woman was truly something different, even if it was just platonic.

He sighed as he stared at her, at how focused she was on typing out the list. When he thought of it, he couldn't really remember if he had a normal friendship with anyone of the opposite sex before, all thanks to his unhappy, troubled youth.

“By the way, Simon,” she called, now lifting her eyes from his phone, only to be met with his thoughtful thousand yard stare directed at her.

“Simonnnn, can you hear me?” she called again, snapping a finger in his face.

“Huh?” he blinked. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I was just thinking of something.”

“It's alright,” she smiled, wondering what his stare meant. She asked, “I was wondering why you call me darling and love so often.”

His eyes rolled off elsewhere as he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't give away what he felt for her. “Well,” he began, voice quivering slightly, “It's just something I call the women in my life, yeah? Female friends and maybe family members. I think it’s also a British thing.” He shrugged.

It was only the partial truth.

“Hmm. I see,” she nodded, her eyes still glued to the phone. As she moved her hand to get a sip of the water, her finger accidentally swiped to the home screen of his phone, and she couldn't figure out where to go back to the notes app. The little mishap allowed her to take notice of his phone background, which was a closeup photo of a German Shepherd looking directly at the camera with its large, inquisitive eyes. She gave him his phone back, asking him to help her get back to the notes app.

“I just happened to see your home screen. Is that dog yours?” she asked as he gave the phone back to her, now displaying the notes app.

“My uncle's.”

“He's beautiful. What's his name?” she questioned, now getting back to typing out the book list.

“It's a female. Her name’s Riley.”

“Riley! Like your surname?”

“Yeah. I found her starved and thrown in a dumpster as a puppy, and I called my uncle to help me get her out. He adopted her and named her after me,” he said with a chuckle.

She smiled as she finished typing out the list and handed the phone back to him. “That's really nice, and really strange too, because my ex has a female German Shepherd named Riley too.”

Simon raised a brow as he took the phone and glanced at the list before keeping the device aside. “Chalk that off as a coincidence. I guess many people have German Shepherds named Riley. The name is quite common… I think,” he said. But the mention of the ex intrigued him. “You mentioned your ex. So, you've dated before, then?” he asked directly but casually, hoping he wasn't being too nosy.

She shrugged. “Yeah, one guy.”

“What happened with your ex, if you don't mind me asking?”

He saw that she stiffened slightly and looked away for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. He was so close to backing off when she answered him, “Well…” she paused to suck in a sharp breath through her teeth, “He was an older guy, and I happened to keep bumping into him at my local grocery store.”

He raised a brow, first of all at the fact that she dated someone older, and second of all, she met him at the grocery store, the least romantic place to find a boyfriend. But he didn't say anything and listened anyway.

“The first time we met, he mistook me for an employee and asked me where he could find the dog food,” she chuckled, “He was new to the area and didn't know where to find it in the grocery store, and I was also wearing something similar to the uniform of the store employees.”

“So you two hit it off then?”

“Yeah, after that, we'd have small talk, and he was actually quite charming. He asked me out on a date, we liked each other, and then we dated for two months.”

“Hm, that's not very long, innit?” he murmured, “How old were both of you?”

“I was nineteen and he was thirty-five.”

“Holy fuck,” his eyes widened slightly, “Nineteen? That's really young.” He then paused to count, “And you guys had a sixteen year age gap.”

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Yeah, I know, it's crazy.”

“You prefer older blokes then?” asked Simon, fiddling with his fingers as he leaned forward on the table, hoping she would refute it.

“Well no, but I was…” she sighed, “I was trying to figure out what sort of man I liked.”

“And your first choice was an older man,” he thought to himself, but didn't say it out loud. “Wasn't that potentially dangerous though? Sure, you weren't a minor, but you were still young.”

She sighed again, but heavier this time. “Yeah, it kind of messed me up a little.”

“It did? How?”

She told him about how he could get a little demanding when it came to spending time with him, as she was a budding author at the time, and was busy with writing a good piece that was worth publishing.

“Of course, even though I was busy, I tried my best to spend time with him. But he just wasn't satisfied. And since I lived at the dorm in uni, I had a curfew, but he would disregard it completely and beg me to stay and spend the night with him, when I wasn't comfortable with it yet. Thanks to that, just being around him ramped up my anxiety, and our relationship that was once enjoyable wasn't anymore.”

Simon felt tempted to ask if she had done anything intimate with her ex, but bit back, not wanting to come off as rude and intrusive. He listened with narrowed eyes and keen earnestness. “And so you broke up then?” he asked.

“Yeah, and it surprisingly went well. Both of us mutually agreed that the relationship wouldn't work out, and we parted ways.” She paused for a long time and Simon didn't break her spell of silence, sensing a struggle in her to say the next words. She finally continued, “I thought that that was the end of it, but lately he's been calling me again, asking me if we could get back together.”

Simon raised a brow again. “What? How daft is he? He has no shame groveling back to you.”

“Yeah… I spoke to him once to clearly tell him I wasn't interested anymore, but I don't think he understands.”

As if on cue, her phone started ringing. When she checked who was calling, she recognized the unsaved number immediately, having seen it several times. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, feeling the same old anxious feeling rise from her chest to constrict her throat. “It's him,” she said, her voice quivering.

Simon held out his hand. “I'll speak to him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked frantically.

“I'm sure. Give it here before he cuts it,” he urged.

She hastily placed the ringing phone in his hand and he immediately picked it up.

“Hello, mate. ____’s boyfriend here. What do you want with my missus?” he asked calmly.

There was a brief silence.

“Simon?” asked the deep, rumbling, yet gentle voice on the other side.

The colour drained from Simon's face as he recognized the voice he knew and loved.

“Uncle John?”

Plot twist?

End of Part 5.

Part 6

I'm making a taglist btw. Leave a comment if you want to be included!

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hellfirenacht · 6 months

Text

Wing Man Part 5

Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Part 1 2 3 4

a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜

WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.

Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker.

But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched.

You were far too good for Harrington anyway.

But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago.

He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills.

But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week.

He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not.

The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him.

Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack.

He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride.

Shit.

Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music.

There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was.

Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music?

Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension.

When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind.

During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names.

Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar.

There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night.

It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time.

Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie.

The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night.

Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.

When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You.

He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right.

Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.

During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice.

Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it.

With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found.

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins.

“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”

Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.”

You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders.

“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?”

Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it.

“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.”

“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!”

“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense.

“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”

He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?”

You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.

“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another.

“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”

“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. .

“Ew.”

That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.

“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?”

This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single.

“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”

“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar.

“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”

Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands.

“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”

“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.”

Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head.

SMACK

Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table.

“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”

“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?”

He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally.

“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”

“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up.

“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly.

Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window.

Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.”

“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”

“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”

There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.”

Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”

He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose.

There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you.

“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat.

Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums.

“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van.

“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice.

You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music.

You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing.

“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”

“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in.

“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!”

“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?”

Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered.

The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs.

“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack

“His pants?!”

“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”

“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”

“Where else would he keep a bat?”

“I don’t know, a cage?!”

The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves.

“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”

“Not anymore.”

“Jesus, Zack”

“Alright, I’ll bite-”

“The head off a bat?”

“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”

“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”

“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”

The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio.

“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.”

You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it.

“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”

“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back.

You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”

They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story.

“Who was it?” Eddie asked.

“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”

“What?!”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”

Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head.

“Need any help?” you offered.

He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.”

The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape.

In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted.

“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin.

“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth.

“She seems nice.” Zack added.

“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit.

“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff.

“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him.

“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.”

“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”

“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”

“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door.

They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight.

When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing.

“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes.

Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”

“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”

He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”

“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”

“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.”

“Just not for Indiana.”

“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”

You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”

“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained.

“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed.

“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building.

“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat.

“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”

“The worst.” you agreed.

There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now.

He had to get out of there.

You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-

Pop

The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?

“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag.

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said.

Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind.

Sweet ol’ tatties?

Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?

He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper.

Eddie didn’t want that to affect you.

But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out.

He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings.

The fifth meeting was inevitable.

---

“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments.

“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it.

“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.”

“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again.

“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”

“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”

“How’s that different from normal?”

“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.”

“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”

“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?”

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Thanks Mom.”

---

You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them.

And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much.

Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary.

You wanted to move forward.

You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted.

So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn.

“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him.

“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said.

You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something.

Today. Saturday. That was-

You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers.

“What did he mean, five?!”

A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.

Part 6

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119

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#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader

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wardenparker · 6 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 7

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Reader being self-conscious as usual. Some conversation about blood/vampire eating habits. But mostly this is just unabashed fluff and flirting. Summary: Allison helps you get ready for your first date with Max, and as scared as you are, you are equally excited for the night ahead. Notes: For our chapter banner this week: the White Horse Tavern! A real and very lovely place in Newport, RI. May or may not actually be owned by vampires, though...I'll have to get back to y'all on that...

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6

It’s cute, utterly charming really, the way that you are currently freaking out in your bedroom. Max isn’t trying to eavesdrop, but you are being so loud that he can’t help but listen. Especially at first, when he wanted to make sure that you weren’t hurt. After the initial scream, he realizes you were panicking about the date he had formally asked you on. Deciding that visiting the dance studios deserved a little bit of flair. He had asked you if he could take you to dinner beforehand. You’re his soulmate, you deserve effort. Something that you’ve obviously received precious little from by the previous asshole in your life. For once, Max wants to make sure that you completely forget about that douchebag. Never jealous of anyone’s previous lovers, he wants to make you realize that you were just having a bad dream for the past ten plus years. Now you are awake, now you can enjoy yourself.

"Alli, you can't be serious?" Nearly clutching the dress that she brought over for you to borrow in two shaky hands, you look over the skimpy black number with trepidation. This is your fault. You know that. You're the one who went to the cheese shop at the end of her shift this afternoon to get some advice. She had sent you home to pull out your most comfortable pair of dancing shoes and swore to provide the perfect dress if you just promised to trust her. And you do trust her. She has never given you any reason not to. But this dress is short.

“Come on, it’s perfect!” She’s grinning from ear to ear, ecstatic for you and your date. It makes perfect sense now why Max had been hovering around you as a bat. You’re his soulmate. It’s so romantic, she wants to cry. “You’ll look amazing and Max will be panting to get under it!”

“It’s just the first date,” You remind her, nervous at even the mention of any kind of intimacy. Not because you don’t want Max — but maybe instead because you do and you haven’t felt that in so many years.

“The first date with your soulmate.” She reminds you with a smirk. “He’s supposed to be your perfect match, so it’s okay to put out on the first date.” She teases.

“He’s also my housemate, so if I do and that’s all he wanted from me it’s going to be awkward as hell.” It’s not that you think that of Max. It’s that the voice of doubt in your head is still loud and clear over everything else. “I’m just... I’m nervous.”

“Do you honestly think he would have joined a coven of witches at a Mabon celebration if all he wanted was the good-good?” She asks, arching a brow curiously.

“Well…no.” You snort, shaking your head at Allison. “And if you ever call it that again I won’t tell you if it actually happens.”

Laughing, Allison waggles her brows. The term was meant to disarm you and it worked. “Fine.” She huffs. “But I want details. Vampires are supposed to be incredible lovers.”

“You could always find out for yourself.” Aware of what Max had mentioned about their superior hearing, and unsure if Eddie is at home at the moment, you lower your voice measurably. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Eddie lately.”

"What?" Her lip immediately goes between her teeth and she blushes furiously. "We are just — you know — uh, collaborating for the masquerade."

“Mmhmm.” Drawing out the sound incredulously, you grin again and eye the dress in her hands. “Tell me everything and I will try the dress on. Just to see.”

"He's nice." She hands you the dress in exchange for information. "I like talking to him. He's — well, he's just so...human."

“He is very nice.” The short dress has a beautiful, flowy skirt that will be great for dancing and you disappear into your dressing room with it with trepidation. “And he likes you! It’s even obvious to me and my observation skills suck.”

"Please...." She rolls her eyes, even if you can't see her. "I think he's just being nice because he wants to join the coven."

“If that was the case, he’d be making nice with everyone, not meeting you in town to take you out for coffee.” Having found out that that was where Eddie was on the night that you and Max had been left to eat dinner together, you found that there was no possible way to be upset about it. Things with Max are…they’re moving forward in a way that makes you nervous and giddy. And whatever is growing between Eddie and Allison is obviously mutual.

She huffs and bites her lip again. "We have a lot in common and I enjoy talking with him. Even though he's been in college forever, he's still enthusiastic about learning. He's even talking about coming out to the farm."

“That sounds like fun!” Finding the zipper on Allison’s strappy black dress takes a second, but you’re able to exchange the one you’ve been wearing all day today for the one she brought for you to borrow. The deep v-neckline and cutouts in the back are more skin than you’ve shown in years but you know instinctively that it’s the kind of thing Max will love. Fashionable and daring. The kind of girl he deserves even if it’s not the kind of girl you feel like. “Okay…um…I’m coming out.”

Allison gasps as you emerge from your dressing room, nodding immediately. "It's perfect, you can't convince me otherwise. Look at yourself!" She squeals as she guides you towards a mirror.

"Kind of weird that we're the exact same size..." Even standing directly in front of the mirror you can't bring yourself to look up. To look at yourself in any kind of positive way whatsoever. It's like it's been beaten out of you as if you were a stray dog. "It fits well."

"I'd be lucky if I still fit in it." She huffs. "Too much cheese. But you, you've got such a perfect figure to pull this off."

"No such thing as 'too much cheese'," you gripe, shuffling slightly in front of the full—length mirror. You're just staring at your shoes and fighting with yourself to figure out if you're brave enough to look up. "Do you...think he'll like it?" If he does, it doesn't matter what you think anyway. Max's opinion is the only one that matters.

"I think he will love it." She assures you, reaching up and touching your shoulders. "It will restart his non-beating heart."

"Apparently only one thing can actually do that." Digging into your armoire for a sweater, you come out with one that is midnight blue and black with little gold stars stitched all over it. It's still cold out, after all, and this will help you to feel a little less exposed.

"What is that?" She's always been interested in the dynamics of vampirism but she's too polite to ask Eddie to answer her questions.

"Apparently..." Clearing your throat slightly and pulling your sweater tight around your shoulders, you glance up and meet Allison's eyes in the mirror. "A kiss from their soulmate."

"Ohhhh now that's the most romantic thing that I've ever heard." She moans, softening visibility and looking amost wistful at the thought. "Come on, Dolly, that's just so romantic."

"I told Max that it sounded like something out of a romance novel." Which is a sentiment that you stand by very firmly. "Who knows how true it is. But it's sweet to imagine."

"Maybe you will find out tonight." She offers with a sincere smile, not wanting to tease you. "I really think he likes you, Dolly. All that time as a bat, visiting you? Being near you. He was drawn to you."

"I still can't believe that was him." She knows all about those nighttime visits of course. You hadn't thought it was a big deal to tell her about the little bat that visited you, but now you see that it was all so much more important than you realized. And she had known the entire time, but never made you feel silly for not guessing. How could you?

"It's sweet." She hums, smiling again. "I want to see him again like a bat. It was so cute to see him on your shoulder, cuddling into your neck."

“He said he didn’t mind transforming again sometimes if I wanted him to.” Suddenly you feel like you should be busy again, and you move to your jewelry box out of nerves. “He knows that I found it…comfortable. But we might get a pet for the house.”

"Okay, so Max would change into a bat to comfort you, and you still wonder if he likes you?" After spending time with you, she's learned of your ex and she understands your trepidation. "I don't think you should."

“I just…” You sigh, feeling your shoulders start to curl, and you take two long breaths in and out to prevent it. “I hope I’m more than a novelty to him, that’s all. His life is so long. It’s forever and I’m not saying he has to propose or anything crazy. I just…I would like to think a person should feel important to their soulmate. I haven’t been important to anybody since my parents died.”

"You know how long Cookie lived." Allison reminds you. "You could do the same. She—" She pauses for a moment. "Her decision to no longer prolong her life was a very serious one. But until she stopped taking her soulmate's blood, she looked no older than forty."

“Why did she stop?” That has never truly made sense to you. If someone was happy with their eternal life, why on earth would they give it up?

She sighs softly. "It— a very power spell was cast. Meant to last through time until death." She explains quietly. "It was the only way to break it and it was important enough to her to break it."

“What sort of a witch would cast something that depends on life or death?” The idea strikes you as positively cruel, but of course you can’t know what the spell was or the circumstances.

"One that knew that her soulmate could provide her with immortality." Allison explains. "It was...done in anger. Hopefully regretted, but nothing I could find could break it. Cookie spent years trying to break it."

“That’s awful.” As angry as you had ever been in your life at certain people or certain circumstances, you can’t ever imagine that type of anger. Not to mention you’ve never done much spell work beyond lighting a candle or floating an object across a room. And you’re woefully out of practice at even those.

"It was...complicated." Allison hums, "from what I've heard. I never got to meet the person." She knows more of the story, Cookie confided in her in an effort to find a way to break the spell, but she wouldn't betray the woman's confidence, even in death. Especially when it was his place to explain.

“I hope that everything worked out the way she wanted it to, then. Even if she isn’t here to see it.” Concentrating on your jewelry box is the best you can do and not get upset for no reason — but something about the whole situation just makes you overwhelmingly sad.

Allison bites her lip but just makes a non-committal sound. “So where is Max taking you for dinner?” Wanting to change the subject, but also genuinely curious as to your first date details.

“He said there was a vampire-owned restaurant on the island that was really nice.” When you had insisted that dinner wasn’t necessary because he didn’t need to eat food, he had come back with the alternative of a restaurant that also discreetly served blood to discerning patrons. That had been enough to make you agree. “It’s…a tavern? The White Horse Tavern?”

She’s impressed. Whistling lowly, she nods. “It’s only the oldest tavern in the country.” She tells you with a grin. “Super swanky, so it sounds like Max is wanting to do things right. Dinner, dancing….” She sighs. “Sounds incredibly romantic for a first date.”

“He really…he doesn’t have to make a big deal out of it.” And you had told Max that, but he had only shaken his head and told you the restaurant would be perfect. “It’s very romantic, but I guess I’m just…a little worried I won’t live up to it. And I would hate to disappoint him.”

“Why would you disappoint him?” She asks. “He knows you. This isn’t a blind date.”

The irony of that observation makes you laugh dryly, and you turn to look at her instead of searching for earrings. "It was supposed to be," you tell her honestly. "We were supposed to go on a blind date. In college."

“Really?” Her eyes widen. “What happened? Why didn’t you go? You mean you could have known Max this entire time?”

“He had an emergency that night. He couldn’t come.” There is such an ache in your heart realizing that — if things had been different — he could have graduated as a human and you could have been together for ten years already. “Everything could have been so different.”

“Do you—” she pauses for a moment. “Do you resent him for that? Because of being with your ex?”

“No.” Surprisingly enough, that answer is easy. It isn’t Max’s fault that Derek was in that bar that night. He had his life turned upside down in a completely different way. “I just wonder what the second chance will be like.”

“While Max can be cocky, he’s also more mature than he would have been ten years ago.” Allison tells you. “So I think it will be very good for both of you.”

"I hope so." That hope is a long buried feeling for you, and while you feel silly for admitting it...Allison has never been anything but welcoming, friendly, and supportive with you. She's the friend you had dearly missed having for all these years. "I'm different than I used to be, too. I just hope we're not too different."

“Eddie told me that Max, uh, he had a second chance.” Allison admits. “That he lost all his scars? So if you had changed too much, wouldn’t your birthmark never reappear?”

Startled by the solid logic of that thought, you almost reel backward, standing up a little straighter in surprise. "I guess...I never thought of it like that."

She smiles, happy that she could reassure you in some small way. “Then remember that the universe chose you as his soulmate, twice.”

"What about your soulmate?" She's never talked about it before but you feel like this is the time to ask if there is ever going to be one.

“I don’t think I have one.” She admits quietly. “I’ve never had scars, birthmarks or anything.” She shrugs. “Some people don’t.”

"Maybe your soulmate just didn't want to mark you up because they already know you're perfect just as you are." Of course, Allison is right. Some people just don't have soulmates. But that kind of loneliness is not something you would ever wish on anyone as kind as she is.

“Who knows?” She’s very doubtful of that, but it’s sweet that you would want to comfort her. “It just means that I get to enjoy everyone else finding their soulmates.”

“And you can make your own decision for your life. Whatever that decision turns out to be.” There is a matching set of jewelry in your box — a necklace and earrings that all bear golden crescent moon pendants with a little blue stone hanging like a star inside it — and you pick those out to wear tonight. “My parents weren’t soulmates, you know. They just loved each other. Fiercely and with everything they had. Just because someone isn’t your soulmate doesn’t mean they’re not going to be good for you.”

“They weren’t?” She asks curiously, tilting her head in shock.

“No.” The earrings slide into place easily and the matching necklace is a comfort, making you feel a little less exposed in the outfit you’re wearing. Makeup is the last touch. “They met at my mother’s work. She was a librarian and Dad was doing research for his doctoral thesis. She dropped a book that she was trying to get off a high shelf and he picked it up for her. That was that. They were inseparable for the rest of their lives.”

“That’s so sweet. They were both witches too?” She remembers you talking about being raised a witch, but didn’t want to assume.

“My dad was a Bishop on his mother’s side.” It was always a point of pride for him, to be descended from one of the Salem witches, and so it is for you as well. “Mom didn’t know her family, but she was a witch by her own devices, I guess.”

“Was she adopted?” She wonders, asking delicately.

“She never really talked about it.” Which had always struck you as strange, and then was downright inconvenient later in life. “She used to call Dad’s parents her adoptive family and stuff like that. We weren’t close to them, though. I guess they didn’t like that he moved away from Massachusetts, but they liked Mom well enough. They were everything I had and then…they were gone.”

“That’s so horrible. I’m so sorry. I know that it’s hard to lose a parent.” She murmurs softly. “Even worse to lose both at the same time.”

“That’s…kind of why this has been so nice,” you admit, turning to look at Allison again. “I know I didn’t know Cookie. And that we were only loosely related. But it’s kind of like getting my family back. Or as close to it as I’ll ever come, anyway.”

Allison reaches out and takes your hand. "I hope that you know that we will happily be your family. Found family is the ones that you love the most."

The sincerity of the moment cracks something tight in your chest, and before you know it you’re pulling Allison in and hugging her tightly, just willing yourself not to shed tears into her oversized sweater. “Thank you.” Two shattered words, but they are the best you can do at first. Until you manage a deep breath and huff out a half—laugh before pulling away again. “You’ve been so kind to me right from the start. All of you have. And I can’t possibly say how grateful I am. It’s…well, it’s been years since I’ve had a close friend and you’re just…you’re the sweetest woman in the whole world.”

"I felt that you had the kindest energy." She admits, "just that you were...lost. But now it seems that you have found yourself. You are finding yourself, who you are meant to be."

“Whoever that ends up being,” you squeeze her shoulder gently. “I owe her, at least in part, to you.”

"No." She shakes her head, smiling at you as if you were the most precious thing. "You have done this all on your own. You just let are letting her shine through."

“You’re the sweetest person in the whole world.” And she’s yet one more unexpected part of this whole wonderful situation, which you find yourself grateful for all over again. “You should go see if Eddie is home, honey. No sense in letting him sit at home alone while Max and I are out, right?”

She bites her lip again, a habit of hers when you mention Eddie. "I think I will." She decides with a small grin. "Wish me luck."

“Good luck.” Although you don’t think she’s going to need it. Not when it comes to Eddie.

"Do you want me to help you finish getting ready?" She offers, tilting her head playfully.

“It’s just my makeup left, and I can manage that.” The vintage purse you’ll be taking is already packed, and a moment alone to remind your reflection that this is a good thing, not something to be afraid of would probably be good. “Go and have your own fun night, honey. I want to hear all about it tomorrow.”

She turns to walk slowly to the door. Turning at the entryway and watching you as you admire or maybe critique your looks in the mirror. "You look amazing and I know tonight will be perfect." She predicts with a wink. "Let me know if you are still up for brunch tomorrow or if you need some recovery time."

“There will be nothing to recover from.” Still, you shoo her toward the door playfully and smile when she worries her bottom lip between her teeth again but makes her way straight across the second floor hall, through the shortcut to Eddie’s room.

******

Max checks his suit, feeling slightly guilty that you are so worked up. Maybe he should have eased you into this. Maybe something more low key was what you are interested in. The flowers he had bought are already sitting in a vase, at Mrs. Taylor’s insistence, and he wonders if he should even give them to you.

Sitting down at your vanity, the clock says five minutes until you promised Max you would be ready and you line up your makeup and brushes with practiced precision. Nothing can or will go wrong tonight, you have told yourself over and over all day long. It is far too important. But the moment you look up at your mirror, your eyes connect with the carnival photo booth snapshot of you and your mother from when you were twelve years old, and you breathe a soft sigh. “You’d like him,” you promise your mother out loud. “He’s sweet. And doesn’t like it when I get in my own way. Which is…it’s a relief.”

Max decides that he will bring you the flowers. Every woman deserves romance, especially from her soulmate. He gives you another minute before he’s knocking on the door, not wanting to rush you, there’s plenty of time built into the night.

The knock is a nice gesture, given that you both know what tonight is and he knows you’re inside. Still, you exhale slowly and open your bedroom door exactly the same as if it had been the front door of your house that he was picking you up at. The suit he picked out is immaculate, with a crisp, clean shirt and no tie to make it a little less formal. And you had meant to compliment him when you opened the door. You really had. But all the comes out is a soft “Wow…” instead.

He chuckles, charmed by your honest reaction. “Is that for me or the flowers?” He asks, holding them up for you to see properly.

“Can it be both?” You ask, embarrassed to admit that you hadn’t even noticed the flowers until he held them up.

“I’ll take that.” He flashes you a grin before he slowly peruses your dress with appraisal.

“If you don’t like it, I can change.” The offer is immediate, unable to read his expression and figure out whether or not he approves of your borrowed dress.

"Don't you dare." He insists, frowning at the mere idea of you changing. "You look...stunning. I don't know if I should change. Make myself more presentable."

“More presentable?” Huffing at him even as you step aside to let him into your room for a moment, you just shake your head. “That suit would make Frank Sinatra jealous. You couldn’t possibly look more presentable.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, have you looked in the mirror tonight?” He asks as he sets the flowers down and turns to you to take your hands and holds them wide to get a better look. “You are breathtaking and that’s saying something, coming from a vampire.”

“Allison let me borrow it,” you admit, feeling your cheeks heat almost uncontrollably at the compliment. “She, um…she helped me get ready. Now she’s going to spend some time with Eddie while we’re out.” It makes you feel less guilty to know neither of them will be lonely. The idea that your happiness comes last has been pervasive for a long time, but you’re trying to be cognizant of it. To shake it.

“Well, she needs to help you spend some of that money buying flirty, fun dresses like this to wear.” He hums. “Because I can see having regular dinner and dancing dates with you.”

“I’ll have to tell her you approve. And the flowers are beautiful, by the way.” The burst of red, orange, and yellow that now sits on your nightstand is brilliant, and you pick up your purse from beside it. “Are you ready to go?”

“Whenever you are, Queenie.” His hand hovers for a split second before resting on your lower back. Guiding you towards the door of your rooms. The door that he had left open to make sure you were comfortable. Just because he lives here doesn’t mean he will impose.

Shutting the door behind you and heading for the stairs, you can hear the soft sound of laughter from Eddie's room. It sounds like they're going to have a wonderful night ahead of them and you note with interest that even though you don't feel any warmth from Max's hand on our back there is still a solid presence there beside you. "How was work today?" Instead of dwelling, you turn all of your attention to Max, wanting to hear anything and everything he has to tell you about his workday.

“It was pretty good, I have a new line on another business deal. Hopefully it will pan out. What did you do besides worry about tonight?” He asks curiously.

He does have a point. You went panicking to Allison, after all. But you smile at the question anyway. "Mrs. Taylor and I nailed down the menu for the masquerade this morning."

“Oh really?” His brow shoots up and he grins. “And what will we be feasting on during the masquerade?”

"The menus that she had mocked up were seven, ten, and twelve courses." As much as you had respected the dedication to the Gilded Age theme, it had seemed a little too much to you and eventually you and your vampiric housekeeper had whittled the ideas down to the best of four courses. "It will be potato leek soup, a fish course with asparagus and hollandaise, chicken...something or other...I think she said it's called Lyonnaise? With mashed potatoes as the main course, and then champagne and strawberry cake for dessert that she said was Cookie's favourite. It felt like a nice way to pay tribute to her." Of course there was discussion of vegetarian options being needed, but when tickets are bought people will have the chance to indicate that they don't eat meat and then that bridge will be crossed when necessary.

“And I am assuming that there is an assortment of finger foods that will be served between dances?” He asks, amused by the dedication.

"According to Mrs. Taylor, it should be several different kinds of drinks and a few sweets to choose from on a buffet table in the dining room." The immense amount of work had shocked you when Mrs. Taylor had laid the whole thing out, but she assured you that she and Renee had everything in hand with just a little extra help from Mr. Taylor and Mr. Finchley. "Then, of course, there's the breakfast for whoever is still left at sunrise."

“This is going to be an amazing night for Newport.” He predicts. “Like nothing they’ve seen for years. I bet they will be clamoring for it to become an annual event.”

"Hopefully it's not too much on Mrs. Taylor and Renee. They're both very excited but it sounds like a whole lot of work to me." At the bottom of the stairs, Max opens the door for you and ushers you through with a smile. "If it becomes something annual I'm going to insist on having extra help for her next year. I know they're both...superhuman, but they shouldn't have to overdo it."

“You know they don’t even break a sweat, right?” He asks as he moves his hand from your back to offer his arm to escort you down the steps.

"They can still only do one thing at a time. Four people cooking for that many guests is a tall order for anyone." He acts like it's the most natural thing in the world to escort you down the front steps and out the front door like a perfect gentleman. Meanwhile you are all but swooning at his side over just the simple act of having an arm offered to you.

“That woman loves to care for people.” He reminds you with a chuckle. “I would say she lives for it, but we both know that’s not true.”

"She exists for it?" You offer with a soft chuckle.

“That’s the way to put it.” Max chuckles and opens the front door to show that his car has been brought forward. Waiting for you.

So far all you've done is walk to his car together but already you feel like a princess. Maybe the bar is set a little too low, or maybe he's doing all the right things — you really can't tell. What you do know, as Max closes the passenger side door and rounds the hood of his car in less than the blink of an eye to get in beside you, is that this is definitely how you always dreamed of dates starting out.

Max buckles his seatbelt and looks over at you with a slight smile. “Are you ready, Queenie?” He asks softly. “If you want to go home at any time, you let me know.”

He's being so gentle with you that it's heartbreaking and heartwarming all at once. The idea that you need to be handled with such a soft touch is a little embarrassing, but the fact that he is being so caring without any kind of request or even indication on your part is just...well, it's just about the sweetest thing you've ever heard in your life. "I'm okay," you promise him, reaching out to put your hand softly over his on the gear shift. "I know you heard me being anxious earlier, but I've been looking forward to this since you asked." And more than that, you've been looking forward to a first date with your soulmate for your entire life.

“Good.” Max hums, turning his hand so you can slide your fingers through his if you want. “I want you to enjoy yourself. There’s no expectations for tonight. No pressure. I just want you to have a night that we should have had ten years ago.”

"Ten years ago it would have been chicken wings and a jukebox in a bar." Which isn't a bad thing, but it isn't what you dreamed of. What you've dreamed of is much closer to this: your fingers fitting neatly through his as he pulls away from the house on your way to a beautiful dinner and a night of dancing. "Let's call tonight the...grown up version."

“The grown up version.” Max hums as he pulls out onto the street. “Well, it’s a good thing then. I wouldn’t have known how to dance then.” He reminds you. “Now I can waltz with you properly.”

“To be honest I never assumed my soulmate would be a dancer.” It’s a perk, obviously. And one that you hold very dear after so many years without dance in your life. But never something you considered mandatory. “It’s like the icing on a cake I already know I like.”

“I think that it’s complementary.” He agrees. “It’s something that we can do together. And neither one of us has to pretend to like it.”

“What else do you like to do?” Other than his work, and having a few things in common like reading and dancing, it occurs to you that you don’t know much about him.

Max smirks. “I like to play poker.” He admits. “There’s this monthly game I’m in. High stakes, pretty much a two day event.”

“High risk, high reward.” Just like his sales deals, you note. He’s mentioned some of them being for upwards of a few million dollars. “I can’t say I’ve ever been great at cards but I do like to play sometimes.”

“Maybe we can play sometime?” He offers. “There’s some lower stakes games, just for fun.”

“I used to play poker for M&Ms with my Dad,” you admit, smiling at the memory. “Any game can be lower stakes if you let it.”

He chuckles, knowing that is true and refrains from offering to play strip poker. “What else did you do with your dad?”

“He liked to paint.” It’s been a long time since you’ve talked about your parents to anyone, but since coming to Newport your family and your past has seemed more relevant than ever. Almost like they had gone on a terribly long vacation instead of being violently ripped from you the summer before you started college. “He would take me to art museums and was the only Dad in my Mommy and Me Painting Class when I was little. We’d play card games and board games and plan all the trips around the world that we would take when I got older.” The last memory makes you shrug, eyes cast down at the floor of Max’s sports car. “We never got to take any of the trips we planned, but it was a fun way to pass a rainy day. It made me think for a while that I could be a travel agent when I grew up.”

“I’m sorry that you didn’t get to travel.” Max tells you quietly, wishing he had some memories like that with his parents. Maybe it would have made it easier when he was alone. But he doubts it. “You should travel.” He tells you. “Go all the places you planned with him. A remembrance trip once a year maybe.”

“I’m not very good at being alone.” Maybe it’s why you stayed with Derek so long. Maybe it isn’t. You can’t be too sure either way, but you know that being lonely is one of your least favourite feelings in the world. “But maybe I’ll try. If…there isn’t someone to come with me, I mean.”

“You don’t have to be alone, Queenie.” Max promises. “There’s your coven, I’m sure any one of them would love to go on a trip with you. Eddie loves to travel and of course, I will go wherever you wanted anytime.”

"You say 'of course' like it's the easiest thing in the world." Your fingers curl around his palm instinctively, afraid to let go of him now that you're allowed to be close in any small way. "But it...it means everything."

“You are my soulmate.” He stresses quietly. “Even if platonic soulmates was all you wanted, I would want to spend time with you.”

"It's not." He's pulled up to a stoplight on Bellevue, and even though your voice is quiet, it's sure. You're just not quite strong enough to look up at him while you say it. "It's...not at all what I want. I just need you to be patient with me. While I...I don't know...figure out how to not be so scared anymore."

“I have eternity.” He reminds you with a grin, wishing he could banish the sadness and fear in your eyes. “And you can have that too.”

"That's a very big offering considering it's only our first date." Trying for a little bit of humor — to lift your own spirits as well as his — you squeeze his hand again when the light turns and he pulls through the intersection. "Let's see how we feel about living in the same house and dancing together and maybe we'll talk about eternity after that. Sound good?"

He squeezes your hand gently. “That sounds like a good idea. Sometimes I get ahead of myself.” He winks before he looks back at the road.

******

It takes a whole six minutes to get from the front gate of Chateau-sur-Mer to the White Horse Tavern, according to the clock on the dashboard of Max's Lexus, and when he pulls into the parking lot the place seems to be completely full to the brim. There's no loud music or bright lights like you might have expected at some place called a tavern, but instead there are people in very smart clothes streaming in and out of the building alternately — and once you're inside there are white tablecloths and lovely candles on every table.

“Now you see why I thought of this place.” He murmurs in your ear, his hand on your back again. Not possessive, but protective. Guiding you up to the host stand. “Reservation for Phillips, table for two.” He responds slightly smug when asked for his name. He is smug about having you here, proud that this date is happening. Eager to learn more about his pretty soulmate.

"Right this way." The hostess smiles politely and leads the way, bringing the two of you to a table in the corner surrounded by other chattering couples on dates enjoying the warm glow of romantic candlelight.

As soon as you are seated, the sommelier comes over. “Good evening.” He smiles charmingly. “May I interest you in our vast selection of reds?” He asks, aware that this reservation includes a vampire who would be wanting a glass of their blood infused wine. Without even looking at you, Max shakes his head. “No thank you.” He hums. “My soulmate and I do not drink.” Even if you had said you are okay with it, Max is aware that anything resembling alcohol could stress you and that’s the last thing he wants tonight.

"Max." His hand is on the table and you put yours on top of it, giving it a squeeze like you did in the car. "It's okay. I promise." What he needs to sustain him and what you need are two vastly different things, and you are not going to be the reason that he skips having blood with this meal and ends up...weak or sick or whatever happens to vampires when they don't get enough blood.

He shakes his head seriously. “I was an asshole at the beginning about it.” He admits. “I didn’t know and there are are options here, just like Mrs. Taylor’s menus for us.”

“…very sweet of you.” Only the end of the sentence is really audible, mostly because you’re so dumbfounded by the idea that he is putting you before and above himself. In your whole life, maybe only your parents have ever done that for you.

The sommelier just gives a confused smile and nods, drifting away from the table. “I didn’t embarrass you, did I?” Max asks, frowning at the shock on your face. He had hoped you would appreciate his gesture, and he wasn’t doing it to show off, he genuinely wanted you to feel comfortable tonight with him.

“Not at all.” The slightly misty look on your face is from how touched you are at the gesture. “I just…you know I’m not used to anyone doing things for me. Emotionally, I mean. Or any other way. I still feel like apologizing every time Mrs. Taylor makes a meal or Renee makes clean clothes magically appear in my room. But you…” With a soft sigh and shake of your head, you offer him a smile. One where you actually manage to look him in the eyes. “I always thought I would be the one taking care of my soulmate with whatever he needed. But you’re the one taking care of me.”

He wants to chuckle, but he can’t. Now when your eyes practically hypnotize him. He’s never felt a pull like that and he shakes his head slowly. “We take care of each other.” He reminds you, “head scratches?”

“Are you asking or reminding?” Either way, the smile on your face gets broader and you can feel that growing familiar feeling of warmth in your cheeks.

“Reminding you.” He grins back at you and winks. “It’s probably the most relaxed I’ve ever gotten as a vampire.”

“Then we’ll have to make it a regular thing.” You can promise him that. The seemingly little promises mean so much when they all stack up together.

“That would be nice, but only if you enjoy it as well.” He knows that you might just agree to keep him happy and that’s the last thing he wants.

"Do I enjoy sitting with my soulmate's head in my lap, seeing him terribly relaxed while I read a book or we watch tv together?" This time when you laugh it's just one huffed chuckle, and it's in near disbelief. "Honestly? It might be the closest to bliss I've been in years."

He smiles at that, squeezing your hand again. “Good.” He hums, nodding towards your menu. “Take a look and see what you want to eat, Queenie, we have dancing later on.”

You don't even have to ask to know that he'll be ordering steak tonight, and as rare as possible. The habit makes perfect sense to you now and you'll never say another word about it. The menu is high-end gourmet and apparently all locally sourced from the list of farms on the bottom of the menu, and for a moment you feel tremendously out of place again until you glance up to find Max smiling at you. And that one little act, that seemingly coincidental timing and easy gesture, has another layer of anxiety and fear slipping away from your heart as easily as water drips down a window. "I've discovered I like duck," you confide after a few minutes of looking over the options. "I had never had it before, but Mrs. Taylor is a miracle worker. Do you think theirs will be as good as hers?"

“Doubtful.” He snorts, shaking his head. “Not unless Mrs. Taylor is moonlighting as the chef here.” He jokes. “She has been to practically every chef’s school in the world in her lifetime.”

“She should be teaching at them. Or opening one of her own.” You know, though, that she would never be as happy teaching as she is taking care of people. It’s a lovely thought, though.

“Never happen.” He promises. “Mrs. Taylor is vowed, willingly—” he adds because he knows you might think otherwise. “— to serve your family line for eternity.”

“She’ll be free to do whatever she wants soon enough, then,” you remind him gently. “We’re not exactly going to be populating that house with little half-vamps.”

“Except you can have an absurdly long life, even as a human.” He points out, sure you haven’t even thought about it.

“I—” Technically, he’s correct. You could have as long a life as Cookie did or even longer. But you can’t even fathom that he would want to spend months or years with you, let along decades or centuries. “That is…something we’ll talk about together. You and I.”

“Okay.” He won’t push, it’s just the first date, after all. Instead of continuing on the same vein, he looks around the tavern. “So, who do you think is a vampire?” He asks playfully.

“Hmmm.” A game is definitely something you can get behind, and you look around the crowded dining room full of well dressed patrons with the air of someone who knows exactly what they’re looking for instead of just being the clueless little human that you are. “I’m going to say…” your eyes fall on an impeccably well-dressed man in an elaborate suit and his pale dinner companion in her lace dress. “Those two. Aaand…the table of four over by the fireplace. I think the girl is introducing her new beau to her sires.”

Max lifts a brow, impressed by the fact that you have clock that correctly. “Good eyes.” He chuckles. “The two are, she’s a baby vamp, too.”

“It turns out that once I realized I was surrounded by vamps, it got easier to see the differences.” There is also a particular, peculiar way that they hold themselves — that all vampires seem to hold themselves. As if they have innumerable secrets. And the older they are, the more secrets they accumulate. Which, you suppose, must be true after a point.

“Really?” That makes him sit up slightly. “What differences?”

“I don’t know if I can describe it properly.” For a moment you pause, when the waiter arrives to bring you both water and ask if you’d like an appetizer. Max orders the specialty charcuterie board and you have to imagine that there are raw things involved for him as well as the regular cheeses and spreads for humans. “It’s like…your shoulders are always a little straighter. Your gaze is more direct. And there’s something…I dunno…elegant? Maybe? In the way you all move. Like it takes so much less effort or you’ve maximized the economy of all of those movements somehow. I can’t describe it properly.”

He smirks slightly and leans in. “We are elegant?” He asks, intrigued by the fact that you are not scared. Perhaps even enjoying that he is a vampire.

“Of course you are elegant, but I didn’t notice until after that you all sort of…have a certain grace.” Shrugging self-consciously, you do notice that he doesn’t let your hand slip away from his on the table. “It probably sounds funny,” you murmur in defeat.

“It doesn’t. It’s actually— I think it might be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” He confesses. “People always say ‘you’re hot’ or ‘I want you’ but no one ever tells me I’m elegant.”

“You are hot.” The admission comes with screaming hot cheeks and eyes trained back down at the table, but it’s true. “I thought so the first time I saw you…”

There’s a hint of heat in his smirk, not nearly as play—boyish as it might have once been. “Glad you thought I was hot.” He hums proudly. “Sexual attraction is key to a healthy romantic relationship.”

“And you’ll always look that way.” It’s not a fun thought to have, but you’ve had it twice already. He will always be young and handsome, and you will inevitably get old — even if you choose long life it will still happen eventually.

He snorts. “We age just not as fast as humans do.” He admits.

“So slowly that it’s imperceptible?” It’s a guess, but you nod your head in understanding. “I’ll get everything down eventually, I promise. This is all still…just days’ old information to me.”

“I don’t expect you to be an expert, sweetheart.” Max tuts. “Hell, I’m still learning about vampires.” He flashes you a grin. “And I’ve been one a lot longer than days.”

"What do you like about it?" You ask, looking at your connected hands before you look back up at him. "There must be something you like about the change."

“Smell is better, hearing is better.” Max shrugs slightly. “I’m a better version of myself.” He snort slightly. “The no need for sleep helped when getting my MBA.”

“It certainly gives you more time to get things done.” Thinking on it for even a second though, you laugh a little. “If I had had that in college I think I would’ve done twice as many competitions and probably added a second major, just because I could.”

He chuckles and winks at you, “That’s my girl.” He hums fondly, not even thinking about it until it comes out of his mouth, but you are his girl.

Finding it fond instead of possessive — as the comment would have been from the last person who might have bothered to call you such a thing — hearing it from Max actually makes you proud. Maybe neither of you is perfect, but you seem to fit together in all the right ways. Maybe that's all that soulmates are, ultimately. Just two people — or in this case a witch and a vampire — who fit together just right.

The meal is ordered and it’s a delightful surprise that there’s no lull in the conversation. Beyond ballroom dancing, at your core, your values match up. At least, Max’s values now, after the incident with Evan. Shockingly enough, he tells you about it.

"I can't believe that's even possible." The ordeal with his former friend, roommate, and coworker aside, the way Max describes what was basically his return from complete obliteration is just wild. "It sounds like...like magic...if I'm honest. Your sire managed to bring you back from...nothing." From his description, he was less than a undead body at that point. Something terrifying to imagine and terrible to contemplate. The idea that your soulmate could have been completely lost to you isn't exactly knew considering you thought it was dead, but knowing the truth makes it feel even more terrible. "If I ever meet your sire, I'm going to have to thank him."

“I have no doubt you will.” Max wonders when the old man will reveal himself to you. What his end game is. He always had one, that’s certain. “I am starting to figure out why I was brought back.”

"You think he had an ulterior motive?" You would think it would be enough just to be able to save his family, but you don't really know how loyal vampiric families are to each other.

“Absolutely.” His answer is instantaneous. Resolute. While he doesn’t know the details of why he was brought back, he had been for one reason.

"You're very certain of that." Which does, you admit, surprise you. "I take it he's not a sharing kind of guy? He didn't clue you in on why?"

“My sire is…an enigma.” Max admits, almost fondly. He has often been envious of the elder vampire’s flair and mystique. “He is legendary among vampires and I’m not so certain he doesn’t divulge information because it is his nature or as a way to play into his reputation.”

"Maybe it's both?" The two of you are still sitting at the table with intertwined hands even after your demolished appetizer has been cleared away. It's so unexpectedly sweet that it makes you feel a little bit...gooey. Like you might melt right into your plush upholstered seat. "Maybe the reputation came because he has a little flair for the dramatic, and now he just likes to play into it and keep it going? You said he's quite old now, right? Maybe it amuses him."

“Yes. That is probably a lot of it.” He agrees. “You will like him I think.”

"Are you saying I have a flair for the dramatic?" Raising one eyebrow and shooting him a grin, you can't help but smile along with him. You did, once, have a wicked dramatic side. Inherited from your mother and dearly cherished. It was an endless source of amusement.

“You ballroom dance and you love reality tv shows.” He snorts playfully. “Of course you have a flair for the dramatic. I can’t wait to see you show out at the masquerade.”

"If you think I'm bad with Dancing with the Stars, wait until you see me on a 90 Day Fiancé binge." That really only happens when you hit your cycle, but it's still a sight to see — you tucked up in your bed under three blankets with a bowl of popcorn and a box of tissues crying about love is just...a side of you that you normally keep hidden. But somehow you have a feeling that Max would understand.

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite couple?” Max asks curiously. “I like Angela and Mike, but sometimes she’s toooo much, you know what I mean?” He spends a lot of nights binge watching things, since it’s not like he sleeps and unfortunately, not many human businessmen work after midnight.

The way you just stare at him is nearly comical, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up with you yet, and when it finally goes you realize your mouth has been open and you snap it shut like the little boy from Mary Poppins. “I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised,” you huff, laughing softly at your own reaction. “We should have things in comments. Soulmates and all that…”

“Babe, I’m also a little dramatic shit.” He confesses with a chuckle. “I mean, who really changes into a bat to spend time with someone because your over-the-top douchbaggery has made them uncomfortable, but you’re intrigued by them?” He asks, making it seem like he is the total asshole he believes he is.

“That’s…pretty true.” And it draws another laugh from you just imagining the thought process he went through to even think of doing it in the first place. “I have to admit, though. It made me feel like the missing goth Disney Princess and I kind of loved that.”

“I’m happy to make that secret fantasy come true.” He grins, nearly beaming proudly at the idea of sparking some inner desire. “And as a bat, I can actually sleep?”

“Compacting a big vampire into a tiny bat body must take a lot of effort.” Or, at least, you imagine it does. It’s more or less breaking the known laws of physics, after all.

“It does.” Max admits with a slight shrug. He will minimize the idea of the energy it expels because he doesn’t want you to ever feel bad for wanting the bat to cuddle.

“Well, you only need to worry about all that energy when you want to, now,” you insist, being respectfully nonspecific because you can see the waiter approaching your table with your dinners. “You never need to be anything besides yourself with me.”

“I appreciate that.” He wonders if you are so accepting and accommodating because of the past relationship or if it was just you. “I hope you’re hungry, this place is supposed to have amazing food.”

It would be cheesy or clingy or just too much to tell him that you’re actually disappointed the food is here because you have to stop holding his hand. You sit back though, politely thanking the waiter and letting your mouth water over how good everything looks and smells when your plates are set down. “Thank you for this,” you murmur when the waiter has gone again, looking tentatively back toward Max’s face. “We didn’t have to do anything at all and knowing you’re my soulmate would have already made the time we spend together special. But this is…it’s really beautiful. And I’ll never forget it.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part of the night.” He promises with a small wink. “Before I’m through with you, your body will be sore and you’ll be breathless.” It sounds dirty, but he’s talking about dancing.

“Max.” Your cheeks burn at the innuendo but you can’t even pretend to dislike the feeling. For the first time in…maybe years, you’re free to let yourself enjoy life. And that’s all thanks to him. Let night really might be the first time you’ve considered masturbating in longer than you would like to admit. And that is thanks to Max, too.

“What?” He tuts playfully, fully aware that your heartbeat has sped up. “Dancing should make you sore and breathless if you’re doing it right.”

“Sure.” But the thought is there, and the playful, bubbly, flirtatious woman that you used to be a long time ago floats the surface unchecked. “Dancing definitely does that,” you agree, tucking a smirk into the corner of your mouth.

“So many dances.” He likes that you are flirting back. Your eyes are practically sparkling with mischief and it’s miles apart from the scared mouse he had met when you arrived. “Tango, waltz, horizontal hustle, foxtrot.” He ticks them off on his fingers like he’s doing down a list.

The mention of horizontal hustle warms you through with a flush of embarrassment and — admittedly — arousal and you pick up your fork very properly without the smirk ever leaving your face. “The girls I danced with always called it ‘getting a new tango partner’ when they started seeing someone new. Slightly more discreet of them, considering our teachers were mostly prim middle-aged ladies.”

He hums, amused by the phrase and he runs his tongue over his teeth, toying with his incisor. “It’s allllll in the hips.”

It shouldn’t be sexy, the way you know for a fact that his teeth are certified weapons and he is just casually running his tongue over them…it makes you wonder just what his tongue might feel like running over other things. “Hips,” you hum, watching him lick his lips subtly. You can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not but it’s distracting as all hell. “I’ll remember that.”

“You do that, Queenie.” He winks at you and scoops up his fork to steal a bite of your food from your plate. He’s not going to eat it. God no, it’s too cooked for his liking, but he turns the fork around and offers you the bite. “Tell me how it tastes.” Despite not liking human food now, he misses the tastes of things.

He can absolutely hear your pulse, there’s no way he can’t when it’s pounding in your ears like a hammer. But putting your lips around his fork is perilously close to put your lips around something else of his and you close your eyes against just how tantalizing that thought is when you’re seemingly getting your sex drive back all at once.

He bites his lip when you moan, taking the bite of food. Sure that you are completely unaware of how erotic it sounds. Knowing that you aren’t trying to entice him, but just like that natural curiosity to know more about you, that attraction is something he’s helpless against. All he can do is control his reaction.

“I know you’re not big on this kind of food anymore, but that’s fantastic.” You tell him, letting the flavour linger on your tastebuds happily. Truly good food is such a luxury that you have a hard time imagining giving it up, but that’s just you.

“I used to love all kinds of food.” Max admits with a guilty grin. “Favorite thing was trying new restaurants. New foods.”

“I hate that that isn’t fun for you anymore.” To lose one of life’s simple pleasures is a shame, even if the tradeoff has many more benefits.

“It’s okay.” Max hums slightly. “I can taste what the human donor has eaten through their blood.” He admits with a grin. “Although it’s a little muted since the blood is chilled and reheated.”

“So…if it was warm from the source…it would be better?” Trying to understand the logistics of his vampirism is going to be key for you, and that means even the parts that don’t seem very savory to talk about.

“Yeah.” He shrugs slightly. “I don’t look for donors anymore.” He explains. “If someone were to offer? I might would have taken them up on it before the other night, but I wouldn’t now.”

“Is it…” As the two of you start to eat in earnest, it almost feels like the conversation should have trended this way. You are, after all, talking about his survival. “Is it a very…meaningful connection? Is that why?”

“It’s….” He pauses for a moment. “Intimate. Almost sensual to the point of turning sexual.” He looks at you intently, his eyes drilling into yours and he hopes that doesn’t offend you. “There’s nothing more intimate than taking a part of someone into your own body, right?”

“I suppose I never thought of it like that before.” Before a few days ago you had honestly never given it much thought at all, but knowing what you know now? You spend almost all of your thoughts on the subject.

“It doesn’t hurt much.” He promises, thinking you might be worried about donors. “Just a sharp pinch and then it feels good. But I won’t be drinking from anyone, I think that’s not fair when you have a soulmate.”

“It’s really that intimate?” From what he’s said, it suddenly makes much more sense to you why people would succumb to the feeling quickly, and you nod when he looks at you meaningfully. “If it’s something I’m ever going to consider, I want to know about it,” you explain. “That’s all.”

“I would never ask.” He doesn’t want you to feel like he expecting you to become his meal plan. “I hope you know that.”

******

Dinner passes with slightly lighter conversation, where you learn that you both like fall and winter better than spring and summer, and that Max used to love cookies more than anything other dessert.

The dance studio that you go to is run by a very sweet woman called Miss Valerie — who apparently named the studio for herself — and is full of all sorts of different people when you and Max are ushered into the main studio for free dancing. A laptop in the corner is playing a personalized playlist and there is a card table with drinks and snacks in a different corner which looked like some people had added to upon their arrivals. It was a night of chit chat — as soon as people heard about the masquerade they instantly wanted to know every detail — but it was fun, too. Max stayed by your side, talking up the masquerade and excusing you from conversation to dance a little more when he sensed you getting nervous.

Dancing with Max might be even better now that you know he’s your soul mate. His gentleness and steady presence leading you through every dance is mixed with so much care that you could just about cry, but there is a mounting otherness in every touch that can only be compared to the first time you allowed yourself to explore any kind of sexuality. Like you’re waking up, and instead of curiosity being what drives your own fingers in the night, it will be the memory of hearing Max’s voice in your ear or feeling his touch on your skin. He had even lifted you a few times in certain dances and it was the most literal sweeping off your feet you could ever possibly contemplate. By the time he pulls into the driveway it’s so late that you’ve lost track of the hour completely but you know you’re going to keep holding his hand until the very last second.

“I think I’ve kept Cinderella out past midnight.” Max teases as he cuts the engine. “But lucky me, you haven’t turned into a pumpkin yet.”

“No.” There’s a note of bashfulness in the way you shake your head, even though you feel bolder tonight than you have in years. “I wouldn’t dare. How could I dance with you again if I was a pumpkin?”

He grins, his teeth flashing white in the darkness of the car. “That would be such a shame, Queenie.”

“It really would be.” Dancing with Max had been like floating on water, and your face burns with pleasure and embarrassment remembering even half an hour ago.

“Would you like to keep dancing?” He asks, bringing your hand to his lips. Anyone else, it would be an innuendo for something else, but with you, he’s asking if you want him to take you to the ballroom. He had loved every second of you being in his arms and of dancing was the only way, he would dance all night.

“Am I a sissy if I admit I’m tired?” Still, your fingers tingle under the press of his lips, and knowing what you now do about his exceptional hearing means you’re sure he heard you hold your breath. “I haven’t danced that much in years and my feet aren’t as calloused as they used to be. But—” The thought is there. The intent. But you can’t quite bring yourself to form the words right away. It’s like you don’t trust yourself. Which, to be fair, you don’t.

“Not a sissy,” he huffs slightly at your ease of insulting yourself. “Human.” He reminds you that he might have the ability to stay up indefinitely, but you do not. “But?”

“I was…” It feels silly to admit it, but you would be horribly sad if the night ended here. Having him close feels like a missing piece of yourself has slid into place. “Going to ask if you wanted to come upstairs,” you admit quietly. “But that’s silly. You live here. Hell…your room is right next to mine.”

Max tilts his head, tsking slightly. “Queenie, you never need to feel silly talking to me. You meant come to your room, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, squeezing your hand gently.

“I don’t want tonight to be over yet.” His hand around yours is cool and comforting, but there’s an electricity in it that is so old that it must have been called something far different before it was called a spark.

“It doesn’t have to be.” Max smiles at the shyness in your tone, the mere embarrassment. “How about this? Why don’t I make you a cup of my famous hot chocolate while you change into something causal, and I’ll meet you upstairs?” He asks, lifting a brow.

His knack for the exact right gesture is something you’re learning isn’t accidental. The effort he is putting into spending time with you is very intentional, and makes you feel like the single most special person in the entire world. “I’ll find a book that is less than a hundred years old, just in case. How about that?”

“Whatever you want to read, sweetheart.” He promises, happy that he had phrased it correctly. He doesn’t want you thinking he assumes you’re going to sleep with him. “But first, I need to walk you to the door.” In the blink of an eye, he’s out of the car and around to your side, opening it up for you to climb out.

“I’ll never get used to that.” You’ve seen him do it now five or six times and it takes your breath away without fail. This time, though, the thing taking your breath might also be the soft smile on his face as you put your hand in his and let him lift you effortlessly out of the car.

“It’s handy.” He admits with a chuckle, closing the door behind you and turning to walk up the front steps. “I’ll be able to change into some sweats after making your hot chocolate too.”

“Does this count as post-gaming our own date?” Leaving his car behind to walk up to the house, your hand stays in his and you lean slightly into his side just on instinct. He feels so safe and you can’t possibly put into words how grateful you are for that.

“More like a casual continuation. The wind down, if you will.” He enjoys your warmth, humming softly at the feeling. You have seemed more comfortable around him as the night has gone on and Max deserve brownie points for ignoring the whiffs of arousal he’s detected.

"I like that." You also like the way he almost sounds like he's purring when he hums, but maybe that's your imagination. Remembering the little sounds he would make in bat form. "I like the idea of being able to share all the versions of ourselves."

Max opens the door to the house, hearing a sound from Eddie’s room that makes him smirk. “If you can’t share everything with your soulmate, who can you share them with?”

"What is it?" His question was rhetorical, you know that, but he looks amused and his eyes darted away from you for a second before coming back.

“Allison is still here.” He tells you, putting his finger to his lips like it’s a secret.

"And she claimed Eddie wasn't as interested as she is." You shake your head at that as if the two of you were some wise old mentors finding out your protégés had finally taken your advice. "I guess tonight was a good date night for everyone in the house, then."

Max winks at you as he closes the door behind the two of you. “Like to think ours was better.” He teases. “Now, go take those shoes off, Queenie and I’ll make your hot chocolate. If you’re lucky, I might even be talked into a foot rub for your dance sore feet.”

"I would never make you do that." More than half your life in ballet, ballroom, and jazz classes means that your feet are...not exactly going to end up in shoe ads any time soon. But it's sweet of him to offer, and you squeeze his hand before you let it go. "I'm going to go up and change. You can just come on in when you're ready."

“I’ll knock, just to make sure you aren’t still changing.” He promises with a wink before he zips off to the kitchen.

You deftly avoid Eddie's room as you go upstairs, going the long way to your room all the way across the house before you hang your sweater and release yourself from your shoes — much to the relief of your aching feet. Despite the small pain, though, you wouldn't change anything about tonight. Your dress is exchanged for a favourite t-shirt, worn thin from constant use and sporting the logo of a theme park that you went to with a bunch of friends in college when you all decided that you just needed to get away for the weekend. It hangs long on your torso, skimming past the edge of your yoga pants, and you wipe off your makeup before getting into bed with a copy of a murder mystery by Alyssa Maxwell that was most definitely published in the twenty-first century.

Max hears you settle down and is at your door in an instant. He had made the hot chocolate quickly and of course changed before you had finished your nightly routine, waiting until you were done. Two light taps on the door is the knock he gives, waiting for you to answer before he turns the knob.

"Come in." The door is just feet from your bed, and when he cracks it open he's dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants with a steaming mug in his hands. "Hey." As soft as it is on your lips, it's mostly out of surprise. Max is always immaculately dressed, and the revelation that he even owns a t-shirt is a pretty big deal. Not to mention the way his broad shoulders stretch the faric, or the way his gray sweatpants (bearing a small embossed collegiate logo near the pocket) hang onto his trim hips, which is wickedly distracting.

“Hey you.” He slips inside and closes the door with a grin. “You look comfy as can be in that bed.” He teases. “Is there room for me?”

"It's a big bed." Knowing that he won't pressure you gives you an immense feeling of relief, and the boldness to actually invite him in like this. You haven't even kissed yet. There is no way you would go all the way to sex tonight. But this closeness? You're craving it. "I'm pretty sure I can fit you in here. Might have to cuddle, though."

“I’ve been told I’m pretty good at cuddling.” He hands you the mug of hot chocolate and barely resists the urge to jump into the bed.

“I’m going to be spoiled forever if you keep making me this cocoa,” you warn him, ready to take the first sip despite the steam still pouring off the mug from underneath the perfect swirl of whipped cream. “That coffeeshop should be crying over losing you, if this is what you were doing as a barista.”

“I learned that girls love a perfect hot chocolate, but also, I loved one.” He laughs as he settles down beside you. “I’ll make you one every night if you want. I actually kind of miss making coffees and things like that. It was fun and easy.”

"I would have been in that shop every single day," you admit. The first sip of cocoa is just cool enough to take, and it rolls through you like a warm hug in the very best way. "For..." Bubbling just beneath the surface, a smile spreads across your lips that you just can't contain. "For more than just the cocoa."

“I knew it.” He crows, leaning in with a triumphant look on his face. He puts his lips just a bare millimeter away from your ear. “A whipped cream junky.”

Your breath catches like it always does when he gets so close to you, and your eyes flick up to his as you all but hide your face behind the mug in your hands. "Right..." you nod slightly in agreement, but when the smile returns to your lips it morphs into shaking your head 'no' and your tone dips to teasing. "Whipped cream. That's it."

“Indulgent, creamy….” He’s teasing you, maybe himself a little as well, but he loves the way your heart skitters slightly. It reminds him of a bird being startled, except this is a joyful thing. “Satisfying. What’s not to love?”

"You're incorrigible," you observe with a pleased grin, knowing full well that you have done nothing but encourage him tonight. It's the best night — let alone best date — you've had in ages. And that's so much of why you're not ready for it to end. This is the side of Max that you always want to have with you.

“Confident.” He corrects you with a grin of his own. “Cocky, maybe even a little conceited.”

"Filling in the gaps where I have no self-confidence of my own." In many ways you really are a balancing point to each other. He lifts you up and you ground him. It keeps you interested to see what he'll do next and you can only hope that it gives him a place to feel relaxed with you. Like he can let down his guard with you. "I think...if you want to...we should go back to that studio again next week." They had invited you both eagerly, and Miss Valerie herself had loudly mentioned having a spot on their competition team for another couple if they ever found anyone who was interested. If you were ever going to pin a number onto your dress again, you would want it to be with him. His over-confidence seems to be rubbing off on you, at least a little, and giving you another nudge toward boldness. "I really loved dancing with you tonight."

“It would be unfair really,” Max hums. “To deprive them of our presence. Our talent from the dance floor.” Part of it is an adopted act of confidence, but there is something magical about dancing with you. It’s easier than any other partner he’s ever had. “So I don’t think we should. Deprive them. Give the couples something to aspire to.”

The giggle that he pulls out of you is probably the closest to effervescent that you've ever managed. There is something about the way you feel when his attention is on you that is undeniable. When Max's focus is on you, the rest of the world falls away. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's more jealousy than aspiration," you tell him honestly, taking another sip of your drink. "I'll have the most handsome partner in the room."

He can’t help but preen slightly. “It helps when your partner is the most gorgeous creature you’ve ever laid eyes on.” He murmurs sincerely. Since meeting you, getting to know you, you’ve gone from pretty to stunning in his eyes.

"That's sweet of you." As much as you want to believe that he's telling you what he believes to be the truth, it's so hard to wrap your head around. There has been far too much of your life spent being told all the things that were wrong with you that it feels impossible to believe that someone like Max could find you beautiful. But gods...you want to.

He groans quietly, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to your shoulder. He should pull away, but your warmth is too intoxicating. “Queenie, I have a confession to make.” He whispers.

Here it is. Steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you know that you deserve, you put your mug on the table beside your bed without unsettling his forehead. You'll make yourself the smallest presence possible in his life. You'll stop the formal dinners and just let him forget you even live in the same house if he doesn't decide to move out altogether. And you'll sure as fuck wait until he's gone to cry the tears that are already pressing at the back of your eyes. "What is it?" You don't want to ask the question, but you have to. The way your heart is already sinking tells you right away how much this is going to hurt.

He hates that your tone has changed, your body has shifted slightly. He wonders if he should have even opened his mouth, but he wanted to be honest with you. Pulling back slightly, he looks at you with a sense of anger at himself for being so unable to control himself. “I want to kiss you.”

"What?" Pushed out on a single breath, it feels like all the air has been knocked out of you all at once and your eyes blow wide when you look up at him.

“I told myself I wouldn’t push you, and I’m not.” He promises quickly. “I would never push you for anything you aren’t ready for, but I can’t help but think about it and if you want me to leave or move to the chair so I don’t make you uncomfortable, I will.”

"Please don't." Immediately reaching for him, your hand lands on his arm and your fingers squeeze, keeping him close even when you feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest and you might forget how to breathe. "Don't like don't move away from me. Not don't like don't kiss me. I—" You might vibrate straight out of the bed in disbelief. "I really want to kiss you, too."

“You do?” Despite flirting, Max hadn’t considered that you might actually want to kiss him.

"I was getting ready for you to tell me that you wanted to end this before it started." Which feels terrible to admit, but you want to be honest with him. "Honestly, I...sort of figured you would have been able to...to smell how much I want to kiss you?"

Biting his lip, he considers lying to you, but he nods. “Just because you’re body is telling me yes, doesn’t mean your mind is.” He murmurs quietly, laying a hand on your arm and rubbing it gently. “I was a fucking horndog in the past, but I know boundaries.”

"I don't know how much else I'm ready for." Your hand covers his on your arm long enough to feel the difference between your burning skin and his cooler body, before your hand moves tentatively up his arm. Being allowed to touch him while you're dancing is so very different from touching him in your bed. "But I know I'm ready for this."

Max slides an arm under your body to pull you closer, shifting slightly so both of you are laying on your sides facing each other. “Queenie,” he leans in and nudges his nose against yours, eyes watching you closely. “May I kiss you?”

"Yes. Please." As far as enthusiastic consent goes, you really can't be more explicit and you don't want to just jump the gun and kiss him without answering. Lying in his arms in your bed is the last place you expected this to happen, but now that you're here it's like a dream.

He licks his lips, wetting them as his eyes flicker down to yours. Somewhere between your first sip and now, your cocoa has been pushed onto the nightstand and he can hold you without fear of spilling something hot all over you. “Good.” He murmurs, leaning in to take in your scent, mouthwatering and thick like ambrosia, before he lowers his mouth to yours.

______

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