#There's a lot of pining on my brain right now and I might make that everyone's problem. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sungbeam · 2 months

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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

“But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 1 month

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regina’s puppy (4)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: soft!regina, fluff, pining, LOTS of pining, regina is falling for the reader hard, reader is a gay mess, regina is a lesbian who’s terrible at emotions. (don’t get too used to fluffy chapters this is the calm before the storm…)

(this part 4 of the series, read part 3 here)

you end up replaying gretchen’s party in your head over the weekend. you can’t seem to stop thinking about the look in regina’s eyes when she saw you and dani talking. it was the angriest you’ve ever seen her, and then afterwards she just pretended as if it never occurred. yet it was engraved into your brain like a branded memory; permanently there for you to think about at night.

you couldn’t figure out why regina was so enthralled by you… if you could call it that. as you started to become more aware of what dani said on friday night, how you were regina’s “puppy”… it caused you to overthink a few things. this entire time you thought regina was getting closer to you all of a sudden because she enjoyed your company. now you feared it was because she just wanted some new pet to play with.

you and regina had developed a routine on the nights you couldn’t convince your parents to allow you to stay the night. she’d call you, and you’d talk for hours; sometimes till you fell asleep. though saturday night you used a flimsy excuse of being at your grandmas house; she new it was a lie. then on sunday, you barely texted her at all. she knew something was up right away, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

as soon as you walked out of your house to catch the bus on monday, regina’s jeep was parked on the side of the street. your heart immediately began to flutter as it usually does whenever you see the blonde. she rolls down her window, and you catch a glimpse of how gorgeous she looks. your legs have a mind of their own as you begin to walk up to her car, furrowing your brows. “don’t you usually pick up gretchen on mondays?” you question, and she shrugs, flashing you that colgate smile that makes your knees week. “she can take the bus. get in, loser.” she taunts you.

you can’t help but sheepishly smile as you get into her passenger side. “she’s gonna freak out. she was texting the group chat all weekend about how her parents found puke in her grandmas ashes.” you giggle, and regina lets out this strained laugh that isn’t her usual one. “yeah, i tried calling you but you were busy.” she grumbles, and you tense up slightly. “and you were dodging my texts. what gives?” she asks, as she begins to drive. she doesn’t turn on music like she usually does, only showing you how serious she is.

“i just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on friday.” you start cautiously, and she frowns, an agitated expression etching itself onto her features. “seriously? that fucking bitch deserved a slap, y/n.” she defends herself, and you flash her a look. “i’m not talking about the slap… i mean, i’m actually surprised you didn’t do worse.” you joke softly, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the air. regina lets out this tiny exhale; if it weren’t so quiet in the car you may not have heard it. that’s when you take in how wrought up she seems, as if she’s been stressing over something.

surely she wasn’t stressing over you avoiding her for two days… right?

“then what is it? why are you being weird?” she questions demandingly, sounding genuinely upset. “because i can’t stop thinking about what dani said!” you huff out, sounding the most frustrated she’s ever heard. upon seeing your exasperated demeanor, she calms down slightly. realizing something was actually wrong. “y/n, everything that loser said was bullshit—“ she starts, but you cut her off, “she was right though! i am such a different person now and it’s only been a month.” you counterpoint, causing her to bite her tongue.

regina hates to be interrupted, but she really enjoys you and whatever it is that’s budding between the two of you. she doesn’t want to lose it because some stupid jock said something at a lame party she only went to in order to save face. “and you don’t like who you are? you don’t enjoy the way we’ve been hanging out all the time?” regina questions, you shake your head. “i love spending time with you… but dani called me your puppy, gina. is that seriously what people think of me now? is that what you think of me?” you ask persistently.

the blonde shakes her head rapidly in disagreement. “i don’t think of you as my puppy… just because you have the qualities of one, doesn’t mean i consider you one.” she tells you, and you frown. “how do i have the qualities of a puppy?” you can’t help but ask, and she shrugs. “loyal, obedient, always happy to see me.” she flashes you that infamous smile, and you roll your eyes in response. “y/n, dani is just jealous because you’re hanging out with me and not her. she only said that to get under your skin, and clearly it worked.” she states, and your silence causes her to reach for your hand.

her touch sends shockwaves throughout your body. “don’t be angry at me over some comment a dumb jock made because you wouldn’t go into a basement with her.” she practically pleads, and you know it’s the closest thing you’ll get to any sort of comfort from regina george. “besides, don’t you like hanging out with me?” she questions, and you throw her a look that says “are you serious”. “of course i like hanging out with you, you’re like my favorite person.” you admit, and regina feels something tugging on the heartstrings she didn’t even realize she had.

“then stop listening to what anyone else says.” this sounds more like a command, so you find yourself nodding dumbly. your brain always goes fuzzy whenever she tells you to do something, and the only coherent thought is to do whatever regina says. god, maybe dani was right, you are regina’s puppy.

you walk into school with the blonde by your side. you’ve adjusted to the gawking students that ogle regina as she walks by. you really don’t blame them; ever since freshman year you’ve been one of those people who gaze at her in admiration. until now. regina’s strange interest in you hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else, and you’re now beginning to adjust to all the attention.

“please never make me take the bus again!” gretchen exclaims as she storms up to the both of you, and regina rolls her eyes. “i had to pick up y/n today. you’ll survive.” the blonde sounds unamused, causing gretchen to huff in response. “i already said i’m sorry, even though it’s totally not my fault i have a totally hot basement that makes people horny.” she says, and regina narrows her eyes at her friend. “we discussed this already. i’m going to be taking y/n to school from now on.” her tone is up for no disagreements, and you shake your head in protest. “it’s okay, gina. i don’t mind taking the bus—“ you start, but she cuts you off.

“i like picking you up. hush.” she shushes you quickly, and you try to ignore the way the back of your neck heats up. gretchen pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. as the three of you approach regina’s locker, karen bounces up to you guys. “did you guys here about the new girl who’s transferring here tomorrow?” she asks curiously, and regina quirks a brow in clear interest. “a new girl? why wasn’t i informed about this?” she questions, and karen shrugs. “i heard it from arnold who says he heard it from elizabeth g.” she explains, and the blonde presses her lips together tightly.

“a new student nobody bothered to tell me about… huh.” she says as she thinks about it for a moment. “she better be more interesting than the last new student we had. jeanette renolds is such a bore.” the blonde adds simply, and that’s that. the topic of the “new student” doesn’t come up again. at least not in front of you.

during lunch gretchen begins to talk about how close homecoming is, regardless of it being 3 months away. “you’re running for homecoming queen again, right regina?” gretchen asks, and regina glowers. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i?” she responds with a question, before looking at you. “are you going to vote for me to be homecoming queen?” she asks, her voice flirty and sweet. your cheeks flush under her gaze, “of course, i voted for you last year too, gina.” you confess, and this elicits a large smile from your favorite blonde.

“everyone voted for regina last year, and this year it’s not gonna change. i don’t even think you need a campaign manager this time either.” gretchen says, and regina rolls her eyes. “i am my own campaign manager, idiot. but i have y/n to help me with more stuff this year, like what color scheme i should go with.” she says suggestively, as her gaze flickers over to you. your eyes widen in slight panic, “what?? i can’t pick your color scheme! i’m terrible at picking out stuff. i mean, you chose my entire wardrobe.” you remind her, and she shrugs.

“don’t care. your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so we’ll start looking at dresses next week. for you too.” her tone is left for no debates, and you don’t really pay attention to anything past “your opinion is the only one that matters to me”. the heat rises to your neck and face, and regina’s grin deepens. “are we still hanging out after school, or are you bailing on me today again?” regina pointedly asks you, and you nod eagerly. “we can try that new pretzel place—“ regina cuts you off, “you’re so cute, i can’t do too many carbs but i’ll get you pretzels on the way to where i’m taking you.” she declares, and your eyebrows perk up.

before you can question the blonde the bell rings, “i’m not doing anything after school—“ gretchen tries to say but regina cuts her off. “i didn’t ask, and you weren’t invited.” she hisses, and gretchen huffs. nobody dares question why regina is so adamant on spending time with you; especially alone time. honestly, you’re a bit scared to ask her as well. not because you think she’ll be mean to you, regina is never mean to you, no, you’re just afraid you may mess up whatever this is.

you’re ashamed to admit regina has become the center of your universe. she takes up all the spaces in your brain, and you can’t even go an hour without thinking about her. you and regina end up hanging out after school as promised. you end up sitting in the passenger seat of her car, a medium sized lemonade in your hand along with your mini pretzel bites. regina steals glances at you every now and then; you contentedly hum along to the song that’s playing as you curiously gaze out the window.

the only thought that keeps circling her mind is how much she likes this. just being around you.

“are we going on a hike?” you ask your hundredth question, and regina groans. “no, i hate walking.” she reminds you, and you have this adorable expression on your face as you think about other possibilities. the further from town you get, the further your mind wanders. “the beach?” you ask, and she shakes her head. “nope; i hate getting sand in my shoes and car.” she deadpans, and you go quiet for another few seconds. “we’ve been driving for almost forty minutes… what time are we coming back?” you inquire, and regina rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“you already wanna leave me?” she responds with a question of her own, and you shake your head rapidly. “no! i love hanging out with you, i just gotta text my mom and let her know before we end up somewhere with no service.” you explain yourself, and regina pretends as if she’s thinking about it for a moment. “just tell your mom you’re gonna spend the night at mine.” she orders, and you flash her a look, “gina, i can’t spend the night on a monday.” you remind her, causing her to huff.

“fine, tell her i’ll have you home by ten-thirty.” she mutters begrudgingly, and you smile in satisfaction. you send the text to your mom right as regina turns onto another highway to leave town. “okay, now i’m really curious! please tell me where we’re going.” you sound more excited than before, and the eagerness in your voice tugs on the blonde’s heartstrings. “it’s just a little place i like to go when things are too much. todays like the first pretty day we’ve had in awhile, and i wanted to take you.” she reveals, causing something inside of you to melt.

“y-you wanna take me to your spot?” you sound genuinely stunned, and regina snorts. “duh, who else would i wanna bring there? gretchen talks too much, karen doesn’t know what’s going on half the time, and everyone else only hangs out with me because i’m “regina george”… it’s only natural for me to take my special girl to my special place.” she retorts easily, causing the blood to rise to your face. regina smirks as she notes how flushed your cheeks are; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of the affect she has on you.

“we’re almost there; finish your pretzels.” she commands, and you don’t have to be told twice.

the sun is nearly setting by the time you both pull into a secluded area off a random road in the middle of nowhere. you can’t help but wonder how regina knows about this place; how long she was driving to find it one day. as she drives further into a green grassy area full of trees, with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps in the tree lines. your eyes widen as she drives further, only going deeper into the beautiful woods.

you roll down your windows excitedly, “oh my gosh this place is so pretty!” you squeal tempestuously. regina tries not look at you in fear she may swerve and ram into a tree, but your sudden uncontrolled behavior causes her to smile widely. if anyone she knew were to see it, they would hell froze over. she’s glad you aren’t paying any attention to her, because you would’ve seen the unusually soft expression on her face. you turn to look at her, catching her grinning from ear to ear, “we haven’t even gotten to the really cool part.” she tells you, and your eyes enlarge as they gaze into her.

“cooler than a literal forest out of a picture book!?” you ask and she chuckles, “you’re way too easy to impress. i’m starting to think i could park behind the 7/11 with you for an hour and you’d have fun.” she murmurs, and you shrug as you look back out the window. “as long as it’s with you.” you say this so easily, and it causes her smile to fall. her expression morphs into a baffled one, and she can’t stop herself from wondering why... why do you enjoy being around her so much?

regina makes a slight turn, and you let out this breathless gasp as your eyes land on a creek with a waterfall. it isn’t big, but it’s beautiful. “oh my god… gina! this is so beautiful!” you shriek erratically and you unbuckle your seatbelt as you the car comes to a full stop. you run out, and her eyes widen, “hey! i said i hate walking!” she hisses, trying to sound angry but she can’t even recognize herself.

if the girls heard me right now, they’d never respect me again.

“come on, gina!!” you order her, and regina— the girl who never takes orders from anyone— sighs as she turns the car off and gets out. “look at how clear the water is!” your enthusiasm causes regina to approach you, and act as if she hasn’t already seen this place a hundred times before you. it looks different when you’re here… regina can’t seem to place why. she isn’t sure if she’ll ever enjoy coming here without you again, and she doesn’t care. all she can do is stare at how the light of the sunset reflects off your big, wondrous eyes.

“if i would’ve known you liked this place so much, i would’ve brought you here awhile ago. i just never thought of bringing anyone till now.” she admits softly, and your smile deepens, which is something she didn’t even think was possible. “you haven’t bright anyone else here?” you ask timidly, and she nods earnestly. “just you.”

her confession causes you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her abruptly. her eyes widen a bit; she’s never been the hugging type… yet as your delicate grasp tightens around her lovingly, in a way she’s never felt, she can’t help the way her stomach flutters pathetically. she hugs you back, and can feel you practically melt into her. you’re so happy, and it hits her that you’re happy because of her. she’s made people cry, yell, curse, and run in the opposite direction… but she’s never made anyone feel happy.

the fleeting thought alone terrifies her like nothing else ever has. regina george is falling in love with you, and she isn’t sure how to stop it.

a/n: please don’t hate me but tumblr wasn’t letting me tag some of your accounts 😭💔

taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehot0 @syddie-reads @slaysksmska @cas-is-weird-ig @scarlettbitchx @pianogirl2121 @puppy-danvers2016 @messsor @dmenby3100 @that-one-little-soybean

#regina george x reader #regina george x y/n #regina george x you #regina george x reader angst #regina george icons #regina george mean girls #regina george x fem reader #regina george x fem!reader #regina george #renee rapp x y/n #renee rapp x fem!reader #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls #lgbtq

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justporo · 4 months

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Ok listen, listen to me! Are you listening? I'm sure this was talked about, well I talked about this before, but there's a specific worm in my brain atm:

What if - despite you fancying Astarion and Astarion fancying you (read: manipulating - at least at first...). You DON'T sleep with Astarion - because no, there's just too much other shit going on. You become friends, desperately pining over each other. And you even more so the more you learn and reveal about Astarion: you care for him, you want to help him - desperately.

And the vampire has fallen hard for you but. firstly, you declined and secondly, maybe he's convincing himself you're just not into him that way and thirdly, your friendship is so precious to him, he wouldn't dare risk it.

So you go on: swooning over each other but your priority is sorting out all the messes you're in. And you probably don't even bring up the topic again until...

Well, until all the messes have been dealt with and you both realise that now might be a good time to bring this up again.

Of courrse neither of you want to ruin the friendship you have but now that it's back on the table: you want each other desperately.

And imagine, imagine this is the first time Astarion experiences sex again: he's free now! And this might very well also be the first time in his long life where he had the time to fall in love with someone before sleeping with them. And he can experience his first time with you and how different it is - how wonderful it can be with someone he cares for and has been yearning for.

There's lots of pent up tension, excitement, so many emotions. It's probably a hot mess and at least a little awkward. You're probably both tripping over each other, you can't keep your hands off each other for even the shortest of moments. Limbs get stuck in clothing, you're falling over furniture and laughing all the while. You're both in awe of each other, taking the time to just take each other in, blushing a lot. Astarion compliments you because he can barely believe how incredible you are and you repay him in like - until both your heads are swimming with admiration and adoration for each other.

And it's probably over very quick because let's be honest: it's been more than a while and emotions are somersaulting. Of course it will also be a long night, you both waited a long time for this. It's also only one of many nights that probably follow. Might be you just spend quite an amount of time in your happy bubble - just the two of you. You can just spend some time to get to know each other in this new kind of way - with time and space, and most of all: in peace.

And Astarion and you can start a loving, passionate relationship with a bit less weight on your shoulders - make wonderful memories right from the start.

(This was also fueled by @tripleyeeets recent post about wanting more awkward sex in fanfics and I wholeheartedly agree)

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #bg3 #headcanons #astarion headcanons #imagine #poro headcanons #astarion x you #astarion fluff

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missmeinyourbones · 7 months

Note

ahhh congrats on your milestone leah!! you deserve it all and more!

oh my god all these prompts are so good and you write everyone so well, how can we choose? for your event, may I suggest eren and "this this the first time i've felt the need to confess." or "it's okay, we're the best of friends."

ty for hosting this! I can't wait to see everything you come out with ٩(⌒‿⌒)۶

FIRST TIME I'VE FELT THE NEED TO CONFESS (e. jaeger)

a/n: drunk eren and dd reader, mutual pining but eren is shameless and reader has class, LOSER CORE EREN, reader referred to as "ma'am" once in a teasing context

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

If anyone saw this situation out of context, it might be funny. But in content—your context specifically—it's nothing less than a headache.

Because you've been saddled with the pleasure of driving home an absolutely trashed Eren, pulling him by his collar to your car as he whines and thrashes with objections.

"One date," he repeats, plopping dead weight into the passenger seat of your car and looking up at you with clouded eyes.

Your response is expected, "Nope."

Eren opens his mouth, but before you can hear whatever bullshit he was conjuring up, you shut his door and walk over to the other side of the car.

Without fail, as soon as you open your door, he's continuing his pleading.

"Just dinner? That's literally all I'm asking for, just one dinner where—"

"You know," you interrupt him as you slide into the driver's seat, "you're a sloppy drunk."

You watch the thought process (or lack thereof) in his mind as he smirks and leans his seat further back, "Drinking isn't the only thing I do sloppy if you—"

"Don't finish that sentence."

Eren's eyes travel in amusement from your blushing and aggravated face to where you turn the key in the ignition and white knuckle the steering wheel. He huffs and kisses his teeth, before defeatedly joking.

"Too far?"

You don't speak, but the glare you shoot him says enough. He holds his hands up in defense and turns his attention to his window.

Silence takes over the car for a few peaceful moments and you don't bring yourself to question it, because Eren not talking is a whole lot better than Eren talking. Not only talking, but asking you out—something he's never thought to do before in the entire three years of knowing you.

Between your own exhaustion and his pathetic alcohol tolerance, you're almost positive you can write it off as nonsense. That is, until Eren opens his big fat mouth up again.

"What if I beg?"

At a red light, you rest your forehead against the steering wheel in exasperation. You hear him borderline giggle as the action gently beeps on your horn.

Your voice comes weak, "Since when do you even want to ask me out? Are you that off your ass right now?"

That changes something in him, because even though he is off his ass right now, he's wanted to ask you out when he was sober about ten times over by now. It's not his fault he's never gotten the courage to do so until now. Right?

"No, fuck no, I—" he stumbles over the slurred syllables as his brain fogs, "I mean, I am drunk, yeah. But I've been far drunker."

Comically, you stare through him, as if he doesn't have a single thought in his puny little brain. When the light turns green, you turn away from him and start driving again, suddenly far too calm for his liking.

"Believe it or not, that doesn't make me feel any better."

Eren rubs his blurry eyes with a calloused hand. "Shit—yeah, I know, okay? Just, hold on. Let me start over, 'cause I do really do wanna buy you dinner and—”

"Why now?"

"Not now," he states matter of fact, "when I'm sober and know where my wallet is."

"No, Eren," your voice is soft now, humiliated. You won't even look at him when you weakly whisper, "Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?"

He takes pride in the way he holds your stare for all of three seconds, before turning down and looking at his shoelaces.

"This is just the first time I've felt the need to confess," he mumbles.

You deadpan, "The first time?"

"Yup."

"There were other times you kept it to yourself?

"Like two whole years worth, yeah," he huffs under his breath. "But I wasn't gonna lead with that because that sounds lame and this makes me sound more manly and suave."

The car hums beneath him when he hears you laugh, and his drunk mind can't tell if it's out of pity or honest amusement, but he likes the sound of it all the same.

Though your words might be meant to sting, the delivery is silky when you tease, "I'm driving you home because you can't handle your liquor. Nothing about you is manly or suave right now."

He nods along obediently, "Okay, sorry."

Turning his attention back to the condensation dripping from the window, he suddenly speaks so gently that you'd think he was sober if you didn't see what he drank tonight.

"If you don't actually wanna go out, you can just reject me already. It's fine."

Now it's Eren who won't meet your eye as you're pulling up to his house on the corner of the street. Throwing the car into park and tapping his bicep, he slowly sighs, a bit embarrassed but too drunk to actually care.

"Tell you what," you breathe, and you're surprised Eren's neck doesn't snap on impact with the speed he turns to face you. You bite your cheek at his desperation and exhale, "If you wake up in the morning and still want to take me to dinner, then we can talk about it tomorrow."

"Yeah?" you swear you can physically see the light reenter his eyes at your simple words.

Nodding, you smile. "Yeah, but for now, get your ass in your apartment and drink a shit ton of water."

Gently shoving him, Eren gets out of the car. In the slightly drizzling rain, his eyes never leave yours as his lanky legs stand up and he salutes in a corny way, "Yes, ma'am."

You reach over the middle console to pull his door shut, but before you can even grab it, he's reaching for the handle and holding it open.

"Wait—!"

"What now?" exasperation crawls from your throat.

You watch unimpressed as he pats down all of his pockets before meekly whispering.

"…Do you have my house keys?"

#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#eren x reader #eren jaegar x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #eren fluff #eren angst #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger angst #eren fic #eren jaeger fic

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ma1dita · 1 month

Note

omggg hope you had a great birthday!! do u mind writing a remus x reader who realize there’s smth more than friends between them, thank youuu

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

remus lupin x reader

a/n: gn!reader truly idk how this escaped me. me writing for my long lost husband in the year of our lord 2024?? this was so fun it felt like reuniting with an ex anyways fluff incoming

wc: don't... look at me... 1.3k

“So?”

“So what, Prongs?” Remus huffs, flipping through a textbook. Merlin knows why he even tries to study in the common room with the boys when all they do is badger him about nonsense.

“So are you and your little friend, well…more than friends? You two are attached at the hip, so where’d the little one run off to?” James teases, whacking his best mate with a throw pillow, “Get tired of you moaning and groaning about prefect duties?”

Well, that’s…you’re definitely not nonsense.

Remus blinks, brushing his hair away from his face and glaring at James before elbowing him straight in the gut. Tosser he is, acting like he knows anything about you or relationships in general when he’s been pining after Lily for years now.

You two are just friends.

Sirius lets out a loud laugh from his place at Remus’ feet. He’s leaning against the arm of the sofa, looking up at the sandy-haired boy with a cock-eyed grin, “If they were more than friends, Moony’s moaning and groaning would be appreciated and reciprocated, don’t you think?”

Peter snickers from the loveseat across the table. It doesn’t help with Remus’ mood, so he buries his head deeper into the boring History of Magic text, grumbling, “Don’t be crass. Just friends, is all. Don’t look too hard into it or you’ll melt what’s left of your brains.”

The three instigators look at each other, before looking back at their best friend. Just friends, he says. Sure, Remus’s the nicest guy around—a prefect even; the one that people count on to be the most morally sound out of all of them, the guy that people borrow notes from, politely laughs at jokes and makes people feel included in conversations. Sure, friends—they can believe that! Everyone wants to be Moony’s friend. But it’s the way they’ve seen him treat you that stands out.

Remus usually lags behind them now, breaking apart their formation in the halls (and yes, Sirius likes to be at the front of the diamond), pushing Peter up so he can wait for you after class. Also, anyone that could distract him from taking notes in Arithmancy is surely a force to be reckoned with (and a threat to Peter’s grades). He’s even gone as far as sidling up next to you during Potions and breaking their age-old rotation of picking partners since their first year (which left James with a botched Aging Potion, and Lily laughing at him as he limped out of class with graying hair and a hunchback).

So things were different nowadays, but one thing is for sure: Remus Lupin’s favorite game is being in denial.

“Maybe your friend knows about your furry little problem, Moons. Surely you really don’t think you’re gonna get any studying done with us?” James chuckles, before pushing his glasses up to clearly see the blush blossoming on Remus’s cheeks. Though it might also be anger, he couldn’t really tell—they’ve never seen him like this, ever; so blatantly obvious with how he feels about you even though he’d never admit it. It was quite refreshing to remember that Remus is still a normal teenage boy.

“You’re right, Prongs,” he huffs.

“I am?”

“I don’t know why I even bothered to try and study with you lot if all of you are too focused on me instead of studying!” Remus is shoving his books into his knapsack as the boys continue to rib at him to get him to stay. This essay isn’t going to write itself.

“Just playing, Moons!”

“Yeah mate, if you need an actual study date we know that’s not us, just hang around!”

Remus sighs as he’s looking at his friends' shit-eating grins as they go around him showing each other the map and pointing at something.

“What now?”

There’s a knock at the portrait, and the Fat Lady’s shrill voice could be heard from where they were sitting. Peter jumps up, sticking his face over the enchanted parchment as he giggles a bit like a schoolgirl, “It’s for you. Your friend’s outside.” They all cheer and laugh at Remus shaking his head, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder walking quickly away from them.

When he sees you chatting with the Fat Lady, it’s almost as if he’s in a stupor, studying every inch of your face until your eyes finally meet his and you grin and wave at him.

Just friends, he reminds himself.

“Hey Rem! Was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the library together?”

Your voice is a treat in itself, he thinks—the lilt and manner of it so sweet and rich it almost reminds him of his favorite chocolate.

Good thing he has a sweet tooth.

Walking down the hallway together your hand bumps into his several times in passing, fingers ghosting against each other as if they were dancing, too close and then too far. Friends can hold hands right? Remus’s heart flutters as he thinks of the possibility like solving an Arithmancy problem. He supposes the boys and him don’t necessarily hold hands, but he imagines holding yours would be way nicer.

Is he sweating?

His palms are sweaty, forget it, and you’re just friends! You’re telling him about your day like you both haven’t seen each other in years, but he even sat by you at lunch earlier, much to the rest of the Marauders’ surprise. Though Remus supposes you could even make Divination sound interesting—maybe even make him look in the stupid tea leaves to see if you’re in his future, furry little problem and all. He realizes he’s been staring a second too long, bumping into you lightly as you stop in front of the library.

“Haha, you okay? You’re quiet today, Rem. Something on your mind?”

A lot about you, apparently, thanks to his meddling friends.

Remus scratches the nape of his neck as he grimaces, cheeks reddening again and instead of a response, he opens the door for you and puts his finger to his mouth as if to say “Shhhh….” before Madam Pince starts a fit at either of you. That, or him actually having to say how he feels.

How he feels… Well…shit.

You make a beeline for an open table near the corner, tugging at his wrist like it’s not making his heart beat out of his chest and Remus tries to compose himself, but then you look at him with your pretty fluttering eyelashes and he knows he’s utterly fucked. Pulling out your chair for you, you squeeze his arm in thanks and scooch your chair closer to his.

“Rem?”

“Hmm?” he responds, a strangled noise crawling up his throat as he coughs slightly, his arm landing on the back of your chair before he panics then realizes he’d look like an arse for pulling away.

Not that he wants to.

“How did you know?”

His heart genuinely stops. There’s no way you’ve caught on that quickly—especially not with him just realizing how he feels about you, his friend that he wants to be more and there is nothing casual about what he wants to d—

“How’d you know I was at the common room? You walked out just as I was about to walk in, I thought it was kinda funny,” you giggle, brushing your hair behind your ear and he takes a deep breath.

You’re just friends. But he definitely wants to be more.

“The boys told me it was you,” Remus says, chewing on his lip, “Apparently they had a feeling.”

And now, so does he.

What’s worse is that Remus hates admitting when they’re right (which is rare enough in itself, he’ll never hear the end of it from their inflated egos).

What’s worst of all is that for the first time in his Hogwarts career, Remus Lupin ends up submitting an essay late.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x gn!reader #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ #made by ma1dita ♥︎#remus lupin fluff #marauders era

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

The Fifth Date

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: friends/idiots-to-lovers

Summary: Yoongi finally realises his feelings for you... But you're on a fifth date with someone else.

Word count:

Content: literally no warnings necessary for this one except Yoongi being a moron

A/N: Happy birthday to my future husband, Min Yoongi! As I said in a post a couple of days ago, this one has had a real edit; it's fundamentally the same, but just (I hope) better.

‘A date. A date. It’s just a date. Why do I care so much? I don’t care. I don’t. It’s fine. She can do what she wants. Obviously. I'm not her keeper. She's a grown woman—an adult. I don't control her. I'm not trying to. It's fine. It's just a date…

'Well, it’s a fifth date. Five is quite a lot- it’s not; it’s not really a lot but it’s different from a first date. A fifth date definitely mean-‘

“YOONGI!”

Yoongi jumps, startled back to the present. He’s supposed to be helping Jungkook finish his song, but he can’t focus.

“Ah, sorry, sorry, ok,” he replies and turns his attention to the screen, adjusting levels and playing the track again.

Music is where he always goes to relax, switch off, zone out, feel better. Music is where Yoongi is in control; he knows what he’s doing; he can feel the music; he can hear it before it even exists and he knows how to create it. He’s comfortable with music; the studio is his home, his retreat. It’s his happy place. This is what he does. This is who he is. He comes to the studio and the world outside its four walls disappears, doesn’t matter. Time passes unacknowledged, one hour, ten, who knows? Who cares? Music production is a flow state that Yoongi slips into whenever he can. Music is simple to him, pure.

But you’re on a fifth date.

Jungkook sighs, seeing Yoongi’s stare go blank once more.

“Yoongi, are you ok? You really can’t focus today.”

“I’m sorry, JK, I will do better. It’s fine. I can focus. Let's do it.”

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi nods.

“Because I know someone is on a date right now-“

“So what? What does that have to do with anything?” Yoongi asks, suddenly defensive.

Jungkook almost pulls a muscle refraining from rolling his eyes. Everyone knows Yoongi has feelings for you; everyone knows you have feelings for him. You’re honest about it, at least. Yoongi refuses to be. They’re not even sure if he’s being honest with himself, despite how obvious it is to everyone else. The two of you together is a no-brainer.

“And they’ve got no brains!” is Jin’s constant rejoinder.

It’s a very good point.

They know he’s just trying to protect himself. He’s been hurt before. But haven’t we all? And you can’t stop yourself being hurt from hiding away. Loneliness is hurt, too; pining is hurt, too. But Yoongi will not be told.

You look at your date across the table and smile. You’re having a nice time. The food is good. The company is enjoyable. You’re trying hard to focus on him: what’s likable about him, what makes him a good match for you—the very fact that he asked you out was a start; you have interests in common; he’s not unattractive; but he’s not Yoongi. Your brain knows that you have to let go of the Yoongi thing, but your heart hasn’t got the message yet.

Practice makes perfect, you remind yourself. You laugh at your date’s joke and take a sip of your drink. If he asks for a sixth date? Yeah, you’ll go. If he asks you back to his tonight? Yeah, you’ll go. Because Yoongi’s not asking. And you’ve given up waiting.

Not waiting as such. You aren’t waiting—you never were waiting. Because you know it won’t happen, have always known. He just doesn’t see you like that. You’re friends. Just friends. You did once think, maybe, that he might be showing interest in you, the way he softened and warmed up to you, the way he became almost doting, indulgent, always, always there when you needed. Then you realised that that was just him, really him, truly him, not the cool, shy exterior he had first presented to you. That made it all the harder, truth be told. You had liked him anyway: his shy little laugh, shoulders shaking, eyes closed; his knowledge on any and every random topic you could imagine; his thick dark hair and feline eyes; his obnoxious drinking habits that you nevertheless found endearing. He slipped into your heart and set up camp. It’s just what he is like. He dotes on his loved ones: you and all the others. You realised he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but familial ones.

It isn’t exactly what you want, being his friend, being family to him, but you’ll take it. Rather that than nothing. Rather that than daring to tread where you might not be wanted—weren’t wanted—and being rebuffed, rejected. So, you date. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right? Worth a shot! It isn’t exactly working but a girl’s gotta eat.

The studio session does not go well. It ends prematurely. Jungkook has to pretend to have had enough, to be too tired, to need to rest, anything to put an end to the torturously slow progress he and Yoongi are making. Yoongi is distracted and needs to let loose, he says. He sends a message to the group chat asking them to have drinks so they meet at the dorms and get some bottles out. Yoongi relaxes and forgets about you for a little while, distracted but this time it’s from you, not by you. He forgets, briefly, that you’re on a fifth date with someone else, smiling, laughing, drinking, not with him. He has fun. He gets a little bit tipsy, drinks more than he planned.

Then Hoseok turns in for the night and Yoongi checks the time. It’s late. He’d have expected you to have sent him a message by now, telling him how the date went. You always message. Always. Even when it goes well. Even when it goes badly. But it’s late and he hasn’t heard from you. A thought washes over him like cold water poured down his back: maybe you’re still on the date. It’s not like it’s not allowed; it’s not like you haven’t slept with other people in the time you’ve known each other. He knows you have. He’s fine with that. Of course, he’s fine with it; you’re just friends. But you are still on a fifth date and his stomach flips over unhappily.

He stares hard at his phone, willing it to do something, although he’s not entirely sure what.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that a watched phone never boils?” Namjoon asks him.

Yoongi slowly puts down his phone and pushes it to one side.

“Waiting for a message from anyone in particular?”

“No,” he answers simply.

They know he’s lying.

“Have you met the guy she’s on a date with? He works at the company, right?” Jimin asks, his eyes all innocent and shining.

Yoongi nods.

“Yeah, he does. I haven’t met him.”

He doesn’t really ever want to. He’s not interested in who you’re dating; it doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy. If you say he’s good enough, he’s good enough; Yoongi doesn’t need to vet him, interrogate him. He trusts your judgement. He doesn’t have to meet him. Ever. Well, he’ll probably have to at some point, but he doesn’t want to. Why would he? He’s just some guy.

The other members look at each other. They know this is your fifth date and there is a real possibility of more dates; they feel they have to do something to make Yoongi wake up and realise what he’s missing. They just aren’t sure how. They’ve tried everything they can think of. Yoongi is just too hard-headed. They’ve tried with you, too, egging you on, promising success, trying bribes at one point. You are hard-headed, too.

They talk amongst themselves about this guy – whom none of them know, but some have seen around the building; they talk about you and how they might see less of you now if you’re going to have a boyfriend. They wonder aloud if your boyfriend will have a problem with you hanging out with them, seven men, by yourself. A cold fist grips Yoongi’s heart at this – not seeing you? He hadn’t considered that but it’s true; the more time you spend with this guy, the less you can spend with him. He hadn’t realised before that this could actually mean losing you. How many married women does he know who hang out with seven men on a regular basis? (How many married women he knows at his age full stop—a solid zero—does not enter into his equation). Possessed by a forceful energy, he stands up and the others all look at him.

“I,” he starts, not really sure what he’s going to say, “have to go,” he says simply and leaves the dorms.

The others look at each other with trepidation and then shrug; what will be will be and they’ll be there to pick up whatever pieces there are later.

Yoongi leaves the building and starts walking. It’s far too far to walk to your apartment from the dorm, but he needs to burn off a little of his sudden energy. His mind is whirring, an overpowered carousel, an endlessly streaming slideshow of his relationship with you. He shakes his head and frowns deeply, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He knows he’s coming to you but he doesn’t know what he’s going to say. He sees you, in his mind, on your date, laughing at some man, this company guy, holding hands, kissing goodnight. He shudders.

He can’t tell you to stop dating other people, not if he’s not going to ask you to date him. But is he going to ask you? It seems insane. Impossible. The thought of asking you out is impossible. But the thought of dating you seems somehow… less impossible. Doable. Real. The thought of it being him walking you home. The thought of it being him who kisses you goodnight.

He laughs to himself. What is going on? What has been going on? He can’t have been this blind. Everyone else can’t have been right. He’s excited and terrified in equal measure. He wonders what you feel. If everyone was right that he has feelings, are they right about you, too? If it has taken him this long to realise, maybe you haven’t realised either. He might be walking into disaster. But he can’t stop. He’ll crash that fifth date if he has to.

After a couple of miles, he orders a car to take him the rest of the way. He stands for a moment outside your building; his limbs feel fizzy, his head feels light, and his stomach feels wobbly, but he pushes the intercom button anyway.

“Yoongi!” your voice comes through the speaker, quiet and grainy.

“Can I come up? I won’t be long.”

The buzzer sounds in reply and Yoongi opens the door and runs up the stairs. He has to assume this is a good sign. You’re in your apartment. You’re letting him come up. Your date is not—probably—not there, too. He breathes heavily outside your door, catching his breath, waiting for his heart to slow down a little.

It doesn’t. Not even when his breathing is even and he’s stopped sweating. So, he knocks anyway. When you open the door, you’re already ready for bed: make-up off, hair down, pyjamas on. He has to assume that this is a really good sign.

“What’s up?” you ask as you welcome him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you,” he answers, sitting down. “I just needed to talk to you about something. How was your date?”

You sit next to him on the sofa and consider your answer.

“It was good! He’s a nice guy. I think we’re going to go out again next week, maybe.”

You don’t want to overegg the pudding but you’re not sure how to play it, how much to give away, how honest to be. Keep it vague, keep it simple. He will already know it can’t have gone that well if you’re here, all undone, ready for bed.

Yoongi nods, looking serious. Then he stands. Then he asks you to stand, too. Perplexed, you rise and stand in front of him, your expression questioning.

“I’ve been stupid,” he states. “I’ve been really stupid. I have to apologise to you for that. I don’t want to complicate things for you but you have to know this. I like you. I don’t want you to date that other man. I want you to date me.”

“Date you?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yes. That is what I want and I’ve wanted it for a long time; I just didn’t realise it until now. If you want to date that guy, that’s ok, but if you want to date me, well, I want that, too.”

He sounds so sure, so confident, but he doesn’t feel it. His hands clench and unclench at his sides; his ribs are taking a beating from his heart; sweat pricks in his scalp. He can’t say any more. His mouth has dried up. He can only stand and wait for your response. Whatever it may be.

You look surprised then confused, your brows pulling together over your eyes, your lip sucked into your mouth, chewed on.

“I guess—well, no, I know: I also want to date you.”

That’s definitely got to be a good sign. He nods sharply.

“Ok. Good. Fine. Good. That’s all I wanted to say.” A pause. “Sorry for barging in here. It’s late. I’ll let you go to bed.”

He turns to leave and you’re laughing, more incredulous now than before.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you cry, stepping forward and grabbing his arm, turning him around so he’s facing you again. “What are you doing?”

He looks like a deer caught in headlights, a little shocked, a little dazed, like he can’t believe where he is, what’s just happened. And he can’t. Doesn’t seem real. None of it does.

“Oh, I, uh,” he stutters, not sure himself what he was doing, what he’s going to do now.

“You can’t just come in here and tell me you want to date me and then leave! Are you even going to ask me out?”

He blinks and you hear the clock tick like the cogs in his brain turning.

“Do you want me to ask you out?”

“Oh my god!”

You turn, bewildered, really feeling that extra glass of wine you had at dinner. You rub your hands over your face and turn back to him with a smile.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing on Friday?”

“Studio, probably.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath.

“No, what are you doing on Friday?”

You stare at him insistently, willing him to see the breadcrumbs you’re laying out for him, to take a fucking hint for once in his life.

“I’- oh. Oh. Uh, do you want to go out with me on Friday?”

“I mean, I was going to ask you out, but yes, yes I do!”

“Oh… Good.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to say!”

You feel a little drunk, feel a tiny bit like maybe you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa and are just dreaming this. Because it’s come out of nowhere and Yoongi’s standing in your living room asking you out on a date and it’s everything you’ve wanted for all this time and it can’t just suddenly be happening. Just like that. So easy.

He’s blushing and so embarrassed, squirming a little as he stands in front of you, feeling so silly that he showed up so unprepared. Unprepared for any of this. He would have sworn up and down just a few hours ago that you were his friend and nothing more, but now he’s giddy, a little dizzy, feels like he’s actually drunk even though he sobered up on the walk. He feels like he’s dreaming, passed out on the dorm sofa, imagining all of this.

You both feel weird, exposed. You’re crossing that line, however inelegantly, and neither of you is sure how to do it. You laugh, awkwardly, nervous now in front of him. He laughs, too, rubbing a hand at the back of his head self-consciously, looking down at the floor.

“You can stay,” you offer, quietly, a little timid, not quite meeting his eye.

“Stay?”

“Here, tonight. If you want.”

“Do you want?”

“You think I’d have offered if I didn’t?”

You take whatever Dutch courage you have left and close the gap between you, your feet neatly together between his, your fingers toying with the edge of his jumper. You look up at him through your lashes and he’s looking down at you, blinking hard, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides again. You tip your head up to him, willing him to take a step, to take his turn, to not make you have to do all the work.

It's a little much, Yoongi thinks, as he looks down at you. It feels fast, sudden, and he’s so hot, flushing all over as your little fingers pull gently at the hem of his jumper. For a second, he considers backing out, shuffling back just a little—and then he catches himself. It’s not sudden—because he’s known you for months now, he’s felt this for months even if he hid it from himself; it’s not fast, it’s slow. It’s been slow—he’s been slow. Everyone has been telling him, everyone has been saying it and he hadn’t realised, hadn’t got the message, but now he has, so why wait? Why pause? You’re right there in front of him, looking up at him with those enormous eyes, a little shy, a little spark of mischief there.

He unclenches his fists and places his hands on your waist as he dips his head and presses his mouth to yours.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts fic #suga x reader #suga fluff #suga fic #mmm repost #yoongi drabble #suga drabble #bts drabble

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dinodinodin0 · 2 years

Text

The other woman • E.M

Pairing: Eddie x best friend!reader

Warnings: non-mutual pining, slight angst, cliff hanger, fem!reader, mention if periods

Summary: y/n is Eddie's best friend since childhood, when she realizes she might like him, she puts it off because "in a cheerleader, he doesn't date cheerleaders," but then she notices him glancing at her friend, Chrissy.

Part two part three part four part five

Eddie and you have been best friends since forever. You've taken baths together when you were babies, you sat with him on the swings every recess. He was the first to know about your first period, and first to comfort you. Your family was basically his by now, and though you were basically raised inseperable, you never viewed him as your brother or anything. He was just Eddie.

That was.. until recently.

You got on the cheerleading team your freshman year, and he was estatic for you.

"now, I don't usually like cheerleaders but I gotta say youre messing up my streak," he joked, ruffling your hair.

"yeah yeah, you just like that you'll get to see me in a cheer uniform," you joked, shooting him a look.

He blushes, but quips back as quick as he usually did, "I mean you'd look beautiful in a potato sack, but jumping around in a short skirt? Oh no. Never. Definitely not." He was being sarcastic, but you sensed some defensiveness in his tone.

That was the first time you questioned it. Your relationship. Him calling you 'beautiful' rang in your ears the entire time he walked you home.

"hey sweetheart, y/n? Earth to y/n central, are you there?" He smiled, leaning on your doorframe.

You shook your head, hoping somehow, your brain would act as an Etch-a-Sketch and erase the silly things you were thinking about.

"I asked if you wanted a ride to school, since I just got these babies," he spun his van keys on his finger.

"yeah.. yeah. Totally Ed," you smiled, looking up at him. "See you tomorrow mornin'?"

"see ya ' pretty girl."

Those names he had always called you suddenly made your face flush bright red. They suddenly felt different to you.

Now it was your senior year, being right before the grade cut off you had already turned 18, and Eddie was repeating a grade. He swore 84' would be his year.

He regularly picked you up to and from school in his van, and you grew accustomed to his music. You loved when he played black Sabbath specifically. He sometimes let you play your music aswell, and though he huffed and pretended to hate it, you'd glance over and see him bobbing his head and tapping his foot. You never mentioned it.

You sat at his table, sitting alongside his dnd group, but you were always sat the closest to Eddie. It was your spot. Seriously, he'd chew out anyone who tried to sit there. You admired how he took in younger outcasts, and you were always the first to greet them with a smile. You were the welcome committee, and you really did make them feel like they belonged.

However, you were still a cheerleader. You found out pretty quickly that you didn't like them though, and that you weren't like them. They kept you on the team because well, it's not like they can kick you off because they don't like you, and also partially to your friend Chrissy.

Chrissy was somebody you met in middle school. Your weren't as close as you and Eddie, but she was your best girl-friend. When she told you she had made it on the cheerleading team, you two jumped for joy together as she hugged you as hard as she could. Chrissy never refused the others advances like you did, but you didn't blame her. She's so suspectable to peer pressure, but never ever would she personally be mean.

You had practice every Wednesday, and Eddie waited in the parking lot each time to pick you up. You're pretty sure he made some deals while he waited aswell, so it wasn't a total loss for him like you insisted. A few moments before practice ended, he'd come to the field and sit on the bleachers.

You didn't mind, though to anyone else it may have been embarrassing. He didn't mind being called a freak every week if he got to watch you practice for a bit, or at least, you thought he was looking at you. Eventually, his gaze shifted.

Eventually, you and Chrissy rode in his van together.

He didn't tap his foot to your music anymore. In fact, it was an anomaly if he let you play it anymore. Now, he tapped his foot to Chrissy's music.

You loved Chrissy, and you loved Eddie. But you didn't think Chrissy understood that you loved eddie. You weren't even sure at first, but once Chrissy started to get closer to him, it was a pressing fact.

Your blood burned bright crimson each time she made him laugh. Your core felt heavy, and you could no longer maintain eye contact, but you love both of them, so you ignore it.

"hey y/n, mind if Eddie drops you off at my house too?" She asked.

"uhh. Yeah. Course!" You say, glancing over at Eddie who just shrugged.

You were at Chrissy's house now, and after you greeted her parents she almost ran you upstairs to her room.

She shut the door carefully, and turned to you immediately.

"i have to tell you something." She smiled, smile wide and eyes gleaming.

You sit on her plush bed, crossing your legs. It was so much comfier than yours, so sometimes if you hung out you'd just chill out on it.

"oh yeah?"

"yeah!"

She sat next to you, gasping your hands in hers and bringing her face close to yours.

"promise you won't tell nobody?" She whispers, holding out her pinky.

You wrap your finger around hers, course, you say.

"I think I have a crush on Eddie."

Oh no.

Oh fuck no.

This. Is terrible. This is the worst.

It'd honestly be better if you just dropped dead, or like.. got struck by lightning. Maybe falling into the ocean in a forever locked car.

But this? Fuuuuuuuck no.

You choke down the lump in your throat, and try not to stammer.

"o-oh! That's great!" You manage to say through gritted teeth.

"yeah! He's so cute, isn't he?"

Of course he is

"and he's so sweet, he watches me practice and drives me home,"

He watched me first. He drived me first.

"and he lets my play my music in his van! Y'know, I think he actually likes it, I always see him sneakily nodding his hea-"

"hey, y'know what Chris? I'm feeling a bit sick. Headache, or something." You say, smiling bitterly and turning for her door.

"are you okay? We have headache medication-"

"yeah. I know. I'm just gonna go home though, if that's okay,"

"yeah of course that okay, I hope you'll be better tomorrow!" She calls, but her front door was already closed.

You walk back to your home, as a creeping realization hits you that your house is the other way. Like, miles in the wrong direction. You stomp and try to trudge in, but as rocks fill your shoes and the heels of your feet start to sore, you sigh. You have to find a payphone.

You dial in Eddie's number.

"hey. Can you pick me up? I'm a block away from Chrissys house."

A/N: omg. Please. Sorry I just had to write this as soon as the idea wringled it's way into my noggin. I'm gna continue this probably because I am FLOWIMG with ideas.

Tag list *ask if you'd like to be added :)* @rebelcthulhu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munsin angst #angst fanfic

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jealusty--movedaccounts · 1 year

Text

Can I Be Him?

PAIRINGS : Lee Felix × fem!reader.

WORD COUNT : 7.9k.

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff.

WARNINGS/CONTENT : multiple pov (reader+felix+author/narrator), reader has a toxic bf and felix wants her, strangers to friends to lovers, nightclub meet cute lmao, drinking, protective!felix, (un)requited love, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending.

A/N : This was supposed to be a quick smut drabble, but I can't live without adding some angst apparently. The more you know.

"Please, angel. You don't know how long I've been wanting this. I want to do this right. I want to worship you like you deserve."

If you could, you might melt into a puddle right then and there, but his dick is just a few centimeters away from your fingertips, and your mind is just a little unhinged.

You click your tongue impatiently, "You know damn well what happened the last time you tried to do this right. You wouldn't want history to repeat, would you?" His fly is undone in a flash.

"Tick tock, baby."

Main Masterlist

Smut warnings under the cut

SMUT WARNINGS : Lots of kissing, nicknames (baby, angel), switch!felix, switch!reader, Felix as a service top halfway through, begging (willingly, not forced lol), marking (once), voice kink(? Idk the reader gets horny over his deep voice), oral (m.+f. recieving), slight voyeurism (alleyway blowjob), deepthroating, body worship, nipple play, praise kink, spitting, dirty talk, unprotected intercourse (do better), squirting, creampie, fucking that turns to lovemaking, revelations about sexual preferences

"He left again?"

Wrapping your shivering arms around yourself in a failed attempt to bring some warmth, you smile "It's okay."

How the fuck could you smile at that?

"It's okay? Nothing is okay here. You're trembling on the street alone in the middle of the night, and it's okay?"

"It's really fine, Lixie, he had something important to take care of."

"And what could be more important than taking his girlfriend home? He couldn't offer you a ride on his way? Or at least get you in a fucking cab?"

You smile at how riled up Felix was getting, he always was the overprotective type, one of the kindest souls you'd met. That was the only reason he was so worried about you. That was why he looked about fit to burst right now. Yeah, he's just kind.

Who you were convincing, you weren't sure.

You had met him about ten months ago, in this very bar, when you'd come in for the first time. He'd been a regular and you'd clicked in an instant. You remember the night distinctly.

Stepping into 'Enigma', you repeated your plan in your head over and over,

I just need to get it out. I'm gonna find some cute guy, flirt with him, fuck him, and be on my merry way.

Only, you hadn't ever done this before. Only, it was your first time being alone in a nightclub. Only, you didn't know how to flirt- all your sexual experiences being with past lovers.

Oh god, this was such a bad idea.

If I just turn around a little bit, just a little, at a distance of like two steps, I can be out and into the confines of my home and wallow in-

No. Stop doing this. Calm the fuck down.

Making your way to the bar before your brain could talk you out of it, you order a Cosmo. You'd rather have your wits about you if you were going to fuck a stranger.

Fuck, am I actually doing this?

You swirl in your bar stool, looking around, and within seconds, lock eyes with a handsome stranger leaning against the wall right on the opposite side of the nightclub.

Oh, I'm doing this, alright.

You offer what you think is a flirtatious smile, and the man smiles so brightly at you, you get whiplash.

Heck yeah, I'm definitely doing this.

The bartender calls over to you to let you know that your drink is ready, promptly ending the little staring contest you'd unknowingly been participating in.

You turn back and accept your drink.

When you look over your shoulder again, the stranger is gone. Looking around, you don't see him again.

I'm not gonna get it today, am I?

Just as you were about to actually physically whine, you feel a light tap on your shoulder.

"Is this seat taken?"

Hah! I'm getting it.

You shake your head a little too eagerly, hoping it doesn't show. If he notices your enthusiasm, he doesn't say anything. Sliding into the stool next to you, he turns to face you,

"I'm Felix."

Now that you have gotten over your little mental victory dance, you hear him, like really hear him.

"What the-"

"That's an interesting name." He chuckles, not at all bothered by your bluntless.

"Sorry, it's just, your- your voice... " You fumble about, not really knowing what to say.

"Is..?" He cocks up an eyebrow.

Oh, he was enjoying this a little too much.

"Really-" You almost said 'turning me on.' It was. It really was. It was so thick, deep and velvety. Like the deepest of hot dark chocolates melting and trickling down the wine glass. Just a lick of your wine tinted lips, and you could get a heavenly mouthful.

Snapping out of the reverie of thirsty thoughts you'd found yourself in, you are suddenly aware that you never completed your earlier thought. He doesn't seem to mind, looking patiently at you with an amused expression, sipping on his whiskey he'd apparently ordered in the time you were thirsting over his voice.

"- uh, really deep." You settle. Your add your name at the last minute. God, he only just came here and your brain was already short circuiting.

"Nice to meet you." He flashes that million watt smile at you again and you fucking melt.

It doesn't make sense, how a criminally handsome man, with voice as deep as a void, had the cutest fucking toothy smile.

Are those freckles I'm seeing!? Lord have mercy, kill me while you're at it, why don't you.

You manage to crack out a smile, and he beams. The rest of the night goes on smoothly. The conversation is natural between you two. No forced topics, no awkward silence. It's almost perfect. Key word : almost.

The only problem being, he hasn't made a move on you once. Heck, he didn't even try to flirt with you, let alone touch you. You waited and waited, but nothing happened.

Does he have a girlfriend?

You carefully manage to slip it into coveration, but he denies it.

Oh, so you're just not interested in me, huh? That's nice to know.

As the night goes on, your hopes keep getting lower and reach an all time low when he guides you out of the club and helps you into the Uber.

"Aren't you getting in?" You ask in a last ditch attempt to get him to see that you very clearly want him.

"Nah, I live around the corner here. I'll be fine walking. Get home safe."

On the ride home, you realise he didn't even ask for your number.

Was I that off putting?

Over the course of the week, you get to know that he didn't need to ask for your number, because you see each other everyday at the same place, same time. You always get a Cosmo, he always gets a whiskey, you talk all night, he keeps his distance.

That last part frustrated you to no end, made you want to pull your hair out.

Does he really just want a friend? That can't be it, right? Who looks to make a friend of the opposite sex at a nightclub?

Felix did, apparently. It became plenty clear what he saw you as, on the sixth day of you both hanging out together.

He had called a cab for you yet again - much like almost every other day - when you drunkenly mumble, "Thanks for always doing this for me."

"Hey, don't mention it. That's what friends are for, right?"

That's enough to sober you up.

As the cab begins moving forward, you feel your heart sieze. You don't know when your need to fuck him turned into this stupid crush you're just coming to terms with. But as the cab ride continues, the pain seeps through and you come to the realisation that it isn't - wasn't - just a stupid crush. It was so much more.

Such a unique flavor of masochism, unrequited love.

You wash the tears away in your shower later that night, only to cry some more.

So really, he's just being kind when he's so worked up about your boyfriend ditching you.

"I'll call you a cab."

"Just like the old days." Your drunken mind muses.

Felix doesn't reply, but you think you see a flick of seriousness on his face. It's gone as soon as it came, leaving you to wonder if your drunk mind was playing games on you.

"Ugh! There are no cabs available."

"I'll just wait around for one to pass by, then."

"While you're drunk this late in the night? Like hell you will."

You just giggle in response and Felix almost coos at the sight. Bringing his attention back to the matter at hand, for a moment - just a moment - he thinks about taking you home with him. It's just a few minutes walk away. But he quickly shuts it down. As pathetic as it sounds, he doesn't really trust himself around you.

Finally deciding on the best game plan that doesn't involve him having to check himself and his little guy down there, he takes your hand and guides you away from the club.

You don't even question him, trailing behind, barely managing to walk straight.

The walk is silent, his hand in yours warm. You both stop in front of an apartment complex about ten minutes later.

"Is this your place?" You wonder out aloud.

"Yeah, just wait here. I'll be back."

You grasp at his sleeve just as he's about to take off "What do you mean wait here? Am I not coming in?"

"Uh, there's no need. I'll be two minutes. I just have to get my car keys and then I'll drop you off."

All the insecurities from months back return with an ugly thump.

"Am I really that unappealing to you?" You find your wobbly voice saying, the alcohol doing the talking for you.

"What?" He's taken aback by the sudden question. Moreso, by the sudden gloss that covers your eyes.

"Even back then, you approached me but never tried anything. Am I that unattractive to you?"

Was that what you had been thinking all this time?

How does he tell you, the reason he didn't make any moves was because he wanted to do it right? He didn't see you as just a fuck. Sure, he approached you with that intention, but as you began to talk, he felt that spark, that connection with you he had never experienced before. Being with you was easy. He wanted to be around you more. He didn't want to screw this up by propositioning you. You would fuck, then what? He wanted you in his life, so he had to play his cards right.

Alas, he had never been much of a card-sharp.

Two months after the cab incident, where he fucked up and called you a friend, you had started dating your now boyfriend.

It had shattered him. Seeing you laughing with someone else, kissing someone else. The chance went right past him.

If only he had known. If only he hadn't been such a coward.

Stepping towards you, he hesitantly holds you at arms length, looking into your eyes. He's not sure what he sees there. Why does it matter to you? Has it bothered you all this time? Why, though? You never gave any signs that you liked him back. That's ridiculous. You wouldn't be dating your current boyfriend if you felt anything at all for him.

He brushes the thought aside, blaming your strange behaviour on alcohol and hormones at having been ditched by your boyfriend.

"Hey, no. You're beautiful, okay? You're- you're.." He feels a lump forming in his throat. How does he go about explaining what he truly thinks of you? If he were to keep talking, he would end up confessing, he's sure.

"Just- just stay, here, okay? I won't take more than a minute." He rushes off.

A part of him feels bad at not reassuring you more, but he just has to get away from you, your warmth. The urge to take you in his arms too strong, he feels his restraint slipping away.

This is exactly why he didn't want to let you stay the night.

Sure enough, within a minute, he's out with a key dangling off his fingers.

You have considerably calmed down by then, despite it being only a minute since you were practically ready to cry.

Just alcohol and hormones. It's okay.

You walk off to his car without looking at him and yank the car door. It doesn't budge, "Are you gonna keep standing there?"

Felix is visibly taken aback at your harsh tone and choice of words, dumbly unlocking the car and getting in with you.

Hormones. Hormones. Alcohol. Hormones.

The entire car ride, you're silent. But it's just the calm before the storm, he can feel it.

When he stops in front of your place - having known your address after calling the cab for you on multiple occasions - you just sit there, unmoving. He can see you simmering away. Whatever's going on in your head, it can't be pleasant.

Contrary to what he'd thought, you reach out for him and rest your hand on his collarbone, half covered by his silk shirt.

"Did I tell you that you look good today? So pretty." Your voice is but a whisper and the drowsy expression on your face has him reeling.

When he doesn't say anything - but doesn't resist your touch either - you slide your hand futher up his clavicle, stopping at the base of his throat, then slowly traveling up and over his adam's apple, across his jawline, to the back of his head. Sinking your fingers into his mullet, you mumble "So soft," eyes glazed over, lips parted. Your thumb pokes out from under his ear and you quickly run it over his bottom lip, "so so soft." Your words feel distant to your own ears, as if they're echoing from somewhere underwater and not your mouth.

He looks into your eyes that are fixed at his lips. Your cheeks are a pretty shade of pink, your lips wet and pillowy. Your pupils are blown wide, and you look... turned on?

The sight of you has blood rushing straight to his cock before he can stop it.

Your eyes find his again, an electricity zings through his nerves and it's all he can do to not give in and sink his teeth into that godforsaken lower lip of yours.

You lean forward, his breath hitches. He can feel your breath right on his lips and honestly, it's turning his brain to mush.

Before things could go any more South, before his dick can get any harder, he latches onto the last bit of sanity he has left.

"Y-you have a boyfriend." Is all he says, finding himself physically incapable of outright denying you.

The simple statement seems to have knocked some sense into you, as you suddenly pull away, eyes wide, that drowsy look wiped clean off your face.

"Sor-rry, I should- I should go. Yeah." You fumble with the seatbelt and next thing he knows, you are out the door.

The air around him feels entirely too cold without your warmth, increasingly too harsh without your sweet scent filling it.

The wind is chilly, goosebumps braking across your skin. Not really surprising considering it's nearing the end of the year.

Not the best idea to wear a sheer bodycon dress, I guess.

Wrapping up on yourself you softly exhale, your breath condensing and curling, dancing away in the cool midnight breeze.

You feel a sudden warmth on your shoulders.. A jacket?

"What is up with you and the whole drunk-stranded-alone-at-midnight thing?"

That deep velvety voice.

You hadn't seen him in the two months since what you've decided to call your 'drunken fuck up'. He didn't show up at the club after, and it's then that you realised you didn't have each other's numbers, still.

"Your boyfriend leave you again?"

"No. I left him."

"What?" He isn't sure he understands.

"I broke up with him." You're not sure why you want him to understand.

It's then that he looks at you fully, his beautiful face iluminated even more beautifully by the full moon that looms over the two of you, silently watching. His raven locks are parted almost in the centre, forehead exposed, bangs reaching his eyes.

Fuck, he's gorgeous.

He watches you intently. You have no idea what's going on in his head, his expression unreadable.

You think back to what went down in his car all those days ago. You definitely picked up on the fact that he was aroused too, that he wanted what you wanted too.

You were sure. But another thing you also were, was drunk. Could you have misread the entire situation?

"How are you getting home?" he disregards your comment altogether.

But of course, rejection at its finest. Just my luck.

"Cab."

He chuckles, "You know how to hail a cab?"

"Had to learn to since you ghosted me." The remark comes off with more of a bite than you had intended.

He falls quite, face turning serious. His attempt at keeping the conversation lighthearted having failed miserably.

Guess it's now or never.

"Hey, the reason I backed off that da-"

"I know. You were right to do that. Thanks. But what I don't know is why you had to ghost me after."

He sighs. Truth be told, he doesn't know himself. He didn't think it through. You have a way of making his head go blank, of making him lose the ability to think rationally and make mature decisions.

"I know it was a dick move, and I-I honestly don't know what I was thinking."

You squint your eyes, waiting.

One look at your face and the word vomit begins, "I-I've wanted you since that day we met last year. I wanted you that day, but then we talked and then I actually began to like you. And I didn't want to mess it up, so- so I didn't do anything about it that day - or the next day - or the next week. God, that was my biggest mistake! I thought I was taking my time, when I was really just being a coward. I... I realised a little too late that I liked you a little too much and by then... By then- you.. " He swallows, looking away.

You take a step forward, reaching out for him much like you did that day, cupping his chin, turning his face towards you.

"Do you still want me?" You whisper, eyes transfixed on those darn pink lips of his that were looking a little too appetizing right about now.

"Ye-"

The word is barely out of his mouth and you're swallowing it, pushing your lips onto his with such force, you both stumble back and his hands fly to grip your waist tightly.

And you love it, you love finally having his hands on you, your lips on his, his breath in your mouth.

You move your lips against his, slowly nibbling, then suking on his bottom lip, biting softly. He yelps a little, but there's no way in heck you're stopping now.

You lick at his lower lip to sooth the ache, your way of saying you're sorry.

And then do it all over again.

You part his lips with yours, tongue slipping in, twirling around his own, exploring his mouth, taking in the taste of him. He groans, breathing hard and goes to pull away, probably to breath, but you don't let him.

Fisting both his collars in your hands, you yank him toward you, your entwined tongues now transferring into your mouth due to the momentum with which he falls forward. You gladly welcome it.

You let him set the pace this time. His hot wet tongue caresses your own, gliding and flicking. He withdraws it, and suddenly sucks borderline violently, and in the next moment, you find that your tongue is in his mouth again, and he's still sucking on it.

A loud honk jolts you apart, both of you panting, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

It's him who still has the wits to turn around and come face to face with a very annoyed cab driver. How long had he been here?

The tips of his ears burning red, he steps away from your grasp whilst you catch your breath.

You don't register what he does or what he says. In your dazed state, you can only make out the low rumble of his deep voice and the sound of a car taking off.

His hand suddenly grasps your. He looks into your eyes with a questioning look and you know exactly what he's asking for. You quickly nod and he wastes no time tugging you along.

His apartment is only ten minutes away, but the buzzing between your legs is too strong and your willpower is too weak.

You feel desire overtake the rational part of your brain, arousal clouding your judgement.

He isn't faring any better, ducking into an alleyway to take a shortcut.

As if sensing your impatience, he goes "Just another two minutes." His voice is gruff, the octave even lower than what it usually is.

It was no secret that his voice was your weakness, and hearing it take on such a low note, something in you snaps.

Before you know it, you're pushing him against the wall in the alleyway, taking those pillowy lips between yours. There's no time for build up, no time to fool around. You want to inhale him.

He makes a sound at the back of his throat, the kind that lets you know you're doing it right.

Primal need consuming you, your hands hastily go down to his belt, fumbling and unbuckling.

That seems to catch his attention, "W-wait!"

Your reaction is immediate, dropping your hands and pulling back slightly, you pant "What's wrong? You don't want this?"

"No!" He flinches when he yells a little too loud, "I mean, no, I do, I do want it. God knows I want to. Just.. Not here."

You relax at that. Your hands find purchase on his belt again, slowly sliding along towards the buckle. You lean back into him and whisper against his lips, "Can't wait. I've waited enough."

With one clean move his buckle is undone, your hands hovering over his zipper, eyes carefully studying his face. If he's genuinely uncomfortable doing this here, you're not going to force him. But if there's a chance that he might be willing, you're jumping at it.

"Please, angel. You don't know how long I've been wanting this. I want to do this right. I want to worship you like you deserve."

If you could, you might melt into a puddle right then and there, but his dick is just a few centimeters away from your fingertips, and your mind is just a little unhinged.

You click your tongue impatiently, "You know damn well what happened the last time you tried to do this right. You wouldn't want history to repeat, would you?" His fly is undone in a flash. Honestly, you don't know how. You're not controlling your motions or your words right now. It's as if something has come over you, but you're not sure what, "Tick tock, baby."

He still looks uncertain, so you allow yourself to be serious for a moment, for one last moment before caution and all else is thrown out the window, "Just let me blow you, alright? Then we can go back to your place."

He grunts at your choice of dirty words, sounding pained, "Fuck, you want me dead, don't you?"

You're still looking at him and he gives you a nod. That's all the signal you need to deftly pull his entirely unnecessary pants and boxers down, letting his cock spring free.

To be tactful, he's well endowed. To be filthy, he has a fat cock.

You wrap your hand around him, finally finally feeling it in your palm.

You squeeze very slightly, he fucking twitches and you think you might die if he's not in your mouth within the next ten seconds.

Dropping to your knees, your spit on your palm, coating his length generously. Then, just for good measure and only partly to put on a show, you spit on his now wet cock.

"Didn't know you were so dirty", he breathes, sounding awed.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. I don't do clean." You smirk up at him and that's all the warning he gets before you are taking him in your mouth, all the way until he hits your uvula.

"ah, fuck-"

You smile, mouth still full of him and angle your head upwards, so that he can slip into your throat. He does so, and you're concentrating on taking him as deep as your throat will allow. That's when he starts begging,

"A-angel, please. Ah shi- just please."

Oh, how sweet he sounds, you absolutely have to tease him.

You release him with a loud, wet 'pop' "Please, what?"

He's breathless, looking down at you with so much vulnerability that you almost feel bad for teasing him. Almost.

"Please just, ugh, please keep going."

You would like to make him work more for his release, but to be quite frank, you already miss the heavy weight of his cock in your mouth.

Taking him this time is a little easier as your jaw has adjusted to the sheer size of him. Looking right into his eyes, you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and Felix promptly loses it. He's pulling at his own hair, grunting, and panting.

Your don't move or bob your head, instead stay there with him down your throat, and move your tongue along the underside of his shaft, not quite twirling - only because there's no space in your mouth that is stuffed so full - just caressing.

"Oh god, please, please. Angel, please."

You decide to take mercy on the poor guy, deciding not to play with him anymore.

Maybe next time.

Keeping him in your throat you swallow once, twice and then he's cumming, thick white spurts shooting directly down your air column, almost making you gag. But you're nothing if not stubborn. You swallow all of him and pull away when he starts to whine from the sensitivity.

You're panting, he's panting. Life's good.

"C'mere." his voice is hoarse even though it's your throat that has just been abused.

He pulls you into a kiss that's altogether too sweet given what just went down.

"Let's go."

You don't know how you get to his apartment. Hell, you don't even know how you get into the bedroom. All you know is that as soon as you're within the privacy of four walls, it's like a switch flips within him. He's practically tearing your clothes away, your shirt and jeans tossed aside into some corner of the room. His own clothes recieve the same treatment shortly after.

Left only in your bra and underwear, you take in your surroundings. His room is well organised. Minimalistic, yet homey and cozy. A soft yellow light is on in lieu of the tubelight, painting the room in a sombre glo-

Your train of thoughts is cut off by your own yelp.

"Eyes on me, angel." Gone is the sweet guy with doe eyes who was begging you in the dark alleyway. The person in front of you is the man with such deep and velvety a voice, he could pass for a siren.

As he approaches you, the look in his eyes so carnal, you're sure you're about to be thrown onto the bed. You've never been much for manhandling, but you'd be willing to give it a shot for him.

So consider your surprise when - as opposed to the utter hunger in his eyes - he tenderly places one hand on the the small of your back, the other holding your head, securing you in his hold. You are guided onto your back on the bed so gently that it hurts, him coming up to hover over you.

"You're so pretty. So so pretty. My pretty angel." His lips find your cheek, kissing softly and then trail down, across your jaw, to your throat where he leaves butterfly kisses. He moves to work at your collarbones, licking long stripes on each one and moving downwards between the valley of your breasts.

You squirm under him, wanting some sort of relief from the growing heat between your legs. "Felix," you breathe out, not sure where the sentence was going, but it only felt natural to say his name out loud like you've always been wanting too. Far too long than you care to admit.

"Shh, angel. Please let me take my time. I've been wanting to worship you forever." He pulls the cups of your bra down, mouth attaching to one of your nipples.

His tongue swirls around your bud, getting it all nice and wet before sucking the wetness right off it. He continues this game of his for a little while, till both your nipples are hardened and sensitive. Letting up with a lewd pop, he gazes down at them and seemingly satisfied, moves down your body.

He drags his tongue from the base of your sternum to your belly button in one long lick, stopping to suck a hickey just underneath it, on your lower belly.

You tried to indulge him, you really did. Even so, you are but a weak woman when it comes to the object of your desires, that happens to be present right here. So close, yet so far away.

"F-felix. Just..."

"Just what, angel?" He smirks.

Oh, this motherfucker.

You pout up at him, "Is this your way of taking revenge or something?"

The smirk on his face disappears. He crawls up to come to eye level with you, face suddenly earnest.

"No, angel. This is about you, only about you. Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you." His eyes flash with genuine care, "God, I'll give you everything. Just tell me. Please."

You could feel the sincerity coming off him. He wasn't just talking about sex. He really would give you anything, if only you gave him a chance.

In all the years of your sexual experience, you were rendered wordless for the first time. No one had been so thoughtful, so open, so vulnerable with you. Your ex never cared enough to ask what you wanted. He just did what he felt like.

It wasn't just him who did that. All the guys you'd slept with only ever cared about their release.

So, much like all the other worldly things, you'd come to realise that if you wanted something, you'd have to take it. You weren't going to sit around, waiting for someone to be nice enough to throw some empathy your way.

No, you knew what you wanted and took it. You came to terms with the fact, and that was when you built the whole dom persona around yourself. Being snarky and mouthy in bed, trying to overpower, fighting for dominance, setting your pace on your terms.

But now, with Felix looking at you with so much adoration, offering pleasure, your pleasure for nothing in return - requesting you to let him pleasure you, you couldn't help but question,

Why had I done all that?

Sex wasn't a fight. It wasn't about who was on top. It was about mutual gratification, two people satisfying each other.

He could sense the surprise on your face. "Why do you look so taken aback, angel?" He gently asks, brushing your hair off your forehead.

"It's just.. no one's ever.. said that."

"Said what?"

"No one's put my need above theirs. No one's asked me what I want."

His brows furrow at that, "Not even your ex?"

You shake your head no.

"I knew that bastard treated you like shit, but I had no idea he didn't even fuck you right." He looks angry now, "But know this, angel, as long as you'll let me, I'll give you anything you want. So tell me, tell me what you want. Nothing is off limits, okay?"

Nothing?

This sends your brain into overdrive. Here is a drop dead gorgeous man, ready to be at your service, telling you that you could ask anything of him, do anything to him, and he'll... let you?

Your mind is reeling at all the possibilities, yet you can't seem to say much.

He, yet again, perceives your hesitance, understanding that this might be new territory for you, and offers "Can I taste you?"

You can only nod.

Slowly, he descends down until he's face to face with your crotch. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he removes them in one swift motion, and almost groans at the sight.

Index finger running up and down your slit, he hums, gathering your wetness, only to swirl it in and around your labia, smearing all over.

As he leans forward, you expect him to dive right in, but he does no such thing.

Landing his tongue flat, he licks up your outer lips, the reason for all the smearing abundantly clear now. He goes at it until there's nothing left to lick, and only then does he move onto the inside of your folds.

Using only the tip of his tongue, he slowly traces the inner outline of your inner lips, not sucking, just collecting your juice, pushing it upwards and letting it pool on your clit. Once he's made a nice little puddle there, he closes his lips around the bud and sucks. Hard.

"fuck-"

His enthusiasm escalates at the exclaimation, repeating the action over and over. Your hand flies to his head, gripping his hair and guiding it up and down, pushing him in. He takes a deep breath, as if suddenly breathless.

No shit, he is breathless. How's he supposed to breath down there?

Releasing him, you panic "Oh shit! I'm so so-"

"Shh, it's okay, take what you need. I told you it's about you," He takes your hand, guiding it back to the back of his head, curling his fingers around yours, until you're fisting those silky locks, "suffocate me in your essence. Fucking drown me."

That damn velvety voice saying those vile words does something to you. You feel your resolve crumble, and before you can question yourself, you're pulling his head back between your thighs, moving it around, seeing what feels best.

He doesn't resist. He sticks his tongue out and keeps it there, letting you move his head.

It's when his wet muscle passes your hole that you let out a loud moan. He thought you'd push him in there, but instead your movements turn frantic and you begin to wiggle your hips against his face, seemingly frustrated. It's then that he realises that you don't know what felt good and this is you trying to chase after that feeling that you lost.

"Have you never had your cunt eaten, angel?"

Damn him for sounding so cute while uttering such filth.

"Nobody cared enough to."

"Don't worry, I got you. Just relax for me, okay?"

You nod and let go of his hair, head falling back onto the mattress.

He buries his face back where it belongs, if he were to say so himself, and wastes no time putting his tongue into your hole, deeper than it went last time. And sure enough, he's rewarded with an ever louder moan from you.

Determined to give you the best orgasm of your life, he uses one of his thumb to lift the hood of your clit, the other rubbing up and down the bundle of nerves. That has your back arching. Lost in pleasure you wrap your legs around his neck, pulling him further in.

He grunts, happy to be smothered. Each flick of his thumb has that familiar feeling bubbling in your tummy. It builds and builds and builds.

It's when he starts pumping that damn tongue of his in and out of your hole, that you see white sploches in your vision, mind going blank. You don't realise what's going on. All you know is that you can't feel your legs. It's like you've been brainwashed, like you're fucking levitating.

Slowly, your vision returns, breathing evens out, and your brain reboots. When you come down from your high, you're distinctly aware of the wetness all over your thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you.

"Holy fuck, did I just-"

You look beside you where Felix is laying sideways, propped up on an elbow, looking at you with a smug look, clearly proud of himself.

"Yes, you did. I think you took the whole 'drown me' part quite seriously."

You let out an embarassed sound that was almost a squeal, and curl up into his chest.

He laughs at your cute shyness, as if you weren't grinding on his face a moment ago "Aw, it's okay, angel. That was hot."

You peer up at him through your lashes, "Hot?" You ask so cutely, he could take you then and there.

"So hot." He confirms

You give him a lopsided grin.

"But you look so fucked out right now. Was I that good?"

"So good." You reach up to kiss him, and the kiss has only just begun, when you feel his stiffness poking against your thigh.

He's so hard, it must hurt. You want to help him but know for a fact that your pussy is of no use right now, so you do the only other thing you can.

You wrap your hand around him, and start flicking your wrist.

"Ah fuck- angel, you don't h-have to. Take a breather."

"But you've been hard for so long. I want to help."

"It's- ah- it's okay. I came already, remember?"

That flips a switch in you. You swing your leg over both of his, lifting up to hover over him, straddling his hips. "Lee Felix, you're not getting out of this without fucking me."

He laughs at that, "Wouldn't dream of it, angel."

You smile and bend down to kiss him. His lips are still wet with your juices and you lick it off them before sliding your tongue in. The kiss turns frantic. There's nothing sweet about it. It's just a messy exchange of spit, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Condom?" You whisper into his mouth.

His eyes widen, "Shit! I-I don't have one." He looks about fit to cry, like a child whose favourite toy's been snatched right out his hand.

You almost laugh at his big, glassy eyes, "I'm on birth control. And clean. Are you?"

"I am!" He lets out a little too excitedly.

"Then we don't need a condom. Unless you'd rather not. It's okay. We don't have to if you're not comfortable."

He damn near chokes at that, "You- you mean I g-get to do this raw?" His eyes sparkle like the same toy's been returned to him, with an upgrade.

"Yes," you whisper in a low and sultry voice, "You get to do me raw."

His next groan is almost pained.

"You want to, baby?"

"Please."

You reach between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around him again, giving a few pumps for good measure - and maybe to hear him groan, but nobody needs to know that - and guide him to your entrance.

As you begin to sink down on him, he holds you still with his hands on your hips.

"W-wait. Wait, please."

"Everything okay?"

He laughs, "Yeah, yeah, good. Great. Just.. a little too great."

You don't get what he means and tilt your head.

He lets out another embarassed chuckle, "If you keep going, I might blow right now."

You smile, endeared "It's okay. I already finished earlier, just let go."

He suddenly sits up, and with him still sheathed in you, flips the two of you over, so that now you're on your back and he's hovering over you.

"No, I promised that this is about you. You are cumming at least twice."

Before you can protest, he pulls out just enough, and rams back in. The protest dies in your throat as it makes way for a loud moan to slip out.

"Fuck, so tight. You like that, angel?"

You clutch onto his shoulders as you nod, urging him to keep going.

Lucky for you, he's in no mood to stop.

He grinds and rolls his hips against yours, creating that delicious friction, but it's nowhere near enough for either of you. And that's exactly why he's doing it. He wants to draw this out, as much as he can.

"Angel, you're sucking me in. Won't even let me pull out. You want me that much?"

"So much." Your voice is distant now, lost somewhere in the lustful daze. He can feel it too.

Pulling out, he flips you flat on your stomach, and nudges your legs apart ever so slightly.

You're so far gone in the haze that you don't have it in you to try to take control, something you've always been doing.

But that's just the point, isn't it? To let go for once, to not fight and just give in to the moment.

And then, you feel it once again. That sinful stretch, his cock dragging against your walls. You never want him to stop.

"Oh god, I could spend forever between your thighs."

Funny you say that.

He bends over forward, until his chest and abdomen are flush against your back, legs tangled together. He takes both your hands in his, entwining your fingers together, and resting them on either side of your shoulders.

Locked together like this, he begins moving, slowly fucking into you, hips pushing back and forth.

You've never been with anyone like this. Sure, you've had a lot of sex in your life, there was even a time when you went through a 'bad girl' phase where you tried scoring a new guy every week.

Not my finest moment.

But this? This feels a whole new level of intimacy you've never tapped into.

"Feel good, angel?"

Oh, lord. Could he get any more more perfect?

"Yes, baby. You feel so good." You're not normally very vocal in bed. But, as you'd already established, nothing about this situation was normal.

"Me too, angel, me too. Your cunt is heaven."

You moan at that. You were never one for praise either, especially not the dirty kind.

Fuck, am I not rediscovering myself today.

His hips move rhythmically against your ass, grinding, moving in circles, pistoning, trying all sorts of things. But always at the same slow leisurely pace. You reach your hand back and squeeze his ass, nails digging into the flesh and push him further into you.

You don't know why you do that. Perhaps to get him to increase his pace or because you want to finish. Or.. maybe you just want him close. Close to a level you've never been with anyone.

His hips stutter, ass clenching under your palm, "fuck, d-don't- don't do that. I won't last."

"You don't have to. It's okay, we can do this again. We have all the time in the world. Don't hold back."

"We can?"

"Mhm." You say, noticing that this is the third time he's said something about wanting to make this last. Come to think of it, he was on the verge of cumming when he flipped you. Maybe this position helped him keep it together.

Wow, he must really want this. He must really want.. me.

Your thoughts are pulled from you when his hand reaches under you, rubbing you clit, his movements suddenly frantic, "Want you to come first."

You body begins to thrash as he continues his movements, hips not stopping once, pace increasing ever so slightly. You can feel your orgasm approaching, that familiar feeling rumbling in your stomach.

"So good, so beautiful, angel. My angel, aren't you?"

You don't have it in you to respond - a whimper will have to do - and Felix doesn't seem to want an answer either.

"Look so good like this, under me. Always wanna pleasure you, make you feel good."

God, that deep and rich voice whispering right in your ear was doing things to you.

Your body begins to tremble, thighs shaking.

"You close, angel? Gonna cum around my cock? Show me how good it makes you feel?"

You could feel your sanity chipping away, making room in your head not to be filled with anything. For the first time in what felt like forever, your head was empty. No overthinking, no thoughts, just Felix and his pretty cock and deep voice and angeli-

"Ah- Lix, I'm.. I'm-"

"Let go, angel."

With that, you're screaming, gushing all around his dick, body thrashing about, but you still manage to let out, "Inside, Lix, i-inside.. "

Felix lets out a loud grunt, the loudest he's been until now, "fuck, angel. I love you, fuck, fuck, fuck!" And then he's cumming, his arousal mixing with yours, the forbidden cocktail dripping out of you, over both of you, and onto the sheets. There's just that much of it.

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavy, chest heaving against your back.

Your mind tries to process what he just said, trying to make sense of it, understand the gravity of it. But you don't say anything, giving him the time to come down.

You lay there like that for a while, occasionally kissing, breathing, listening to each other's breathing, and kissing some more.

After a while, he pulls out, and chuckles.

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, to see him looking down at where your bodies were just connected.

"We made a mess. Think it might be a better idea to shower."

You nod, letting him pull you off the mattress. Your legs wobble a little, but he easily catches and steadies you. The trip to the bathroom is brief but your mind is restless. It's replaying the last words he said. Even as he carefully sets the temperature of the water just right, rubbing soap on your tired body with his small hands, kneading out the knots in your back, massaging you all over, his words are stuck in your head, swishing around.

He's massaging your shoulder when you suddenly hear the clearing of a throat, "So, about what I said.. "

Thank god he was willing to address it. You're not sure you could have survived the suspense any longer.

".. I, uh, want you to know that I'm sincere. I've been thinking about being with you ever since we met, and not in the way we were together just now. Uhm, I mean, together together."

You don't note the soft smile that takes over your face, "Me too." You turn around to face him, hands lodging on his shoulders, body naturally leaning into him.

That's the word. Natural. Being with him is so natural, as if you've done this a million times.

"You do?"

"I do. Maybe not love yet, but I'm sure if- when I get to know you, falling for you is going to be so natural."

He smiles at that, "Well, we better get to it then. How about a date tomorrow?"

"Excited, are we?"

"Please, if I could, I would take you out right now, but seeing as how I can barely stand, it will have to wait."

You laugh, feeling giddy and lean forward to peck him on the lips.

"So is that a.. yes?"

"Yes Felix, I'd love that."

He hums, moving forward, nuzzling his head in your shoulder, the voice reverberating from his chest to yours.

"God, your voice" slips out of your mouth without your own permission.

How rude.

"I know you have a thing for it."

"What?" Your cheeks heat up. You thought you weren't making it obvious.

"Why do think I was so talkitive towards the end?"

"I thought you just got mouthy when you were about to come."

"No," He laughs, "it's because I noticed how hot and bothered you got whenever I said something. I was just trying to help you finish."

Oh well, so much for being subtle.

"It's okay," He says picking up, yet again, on your embarrassment, "it can be your own exclusive kink."

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northstarscowboyhat · 3 months

Note

How did Starlo and Ceroba begin dating in your AU Would there be any conflict because of Cerobas last marriage ending so tragically?

First off, anon thank you for giving me an excuse to gush about Staroba. They have taken a hold of 95% of my brain. This might be a bit of a ramble, but I will gladly share my thoughts on them!

So before Clover arrives in the Underground, I imagine anything romantic between the both of them was kind of out of the question. I HC Starlo is still pining for Ceroba years later, but he's pretty discreet about it. That's his best friend, and she's recently lost her husband and daughter. He's going to be there for her emotionally, but he's not about to complicate things by pursuing his feelings. I imagine even if he hasn't really moved on from her, he's resigned to the fact that it'll only remain as pining from afar.

Meanwhile, on Ceroba's end, she isn't really thinking about romance. She's very much wallowing in her own grief and misery, so to her, Starlo is the only person she has left in her life, but he's just her best friend. There may be some feelings beginning to build, with living with Starlo and spending so much time with him, but nothing she really actively thinks about. She's too consumed by the terrible situation and struggles she's neck deep in.

It isn't until Clover comes around and chooses to stay in the Underground that things change. I HC that Clover chooses to live with Ceroba after the Pacifist ending. Starlo and the gang cleaned up her house anyways, so why not live in it again and make better memories? Because Ceroba's house is close to the Wild East, Starlo visits a lot, not just for Clover but for Ceroba too. Now that they're both working on their own issues and moving on, becoming healthier people, they're able to properly hang out and emotionally support one another and enjoy each other's company in a way they haven't for a few years. This is where Starlo's feelings really kick into high gear, and it's gotten to the point that everyone in their family and friend group notices.

("Dude, you like, totally wanna marry her," Mooch says, hardly bothering to contain her smug smirk. Starlo yanks on the brim of his hat to conceal his reddening face and begs her to keep her voice down, lest Ceroba hear it from across the bar counter.)

Though Ceroba is a lot more subtle about it, this is where her feelings begin to grow too. She realizes that Starlo has always been there for her, even if his actions weren't always the right ones his intentions have always been focused on doing things for her sake, and that she wants him around, maybe more than just a best friend. It gets to the point that the house feels lonely whenever he leaves from a visit. It probably takes a lot of internal strife and struggle to reconcile with her feelings. Letting another partner into her life after she's mourned her first husband is a massive and frightening step to take, after all. She knows Chujin would want her to be happy and live her life to the fullest after he's gone, but it's still a lot to take in.

I imagine once a few months pass, with encouragement from Starlo's friends ("C'mon boss, Clover calls you Pa and Ceroba Ma, you two are practically already raising them together!"), he tries to confess his feelings to Ceroba. He probably fumbles it a few times; not just because he's still shy and awkward under the sheriff persona, but because he really doesn't want to ruin his relationship with her, nor hurt her after everything she's been through. Ceroba, of course, notices this. Probably after the second or third bumbling attempt of him trying to tell her in privacy how he feels, she gently cuts him off and comes out and says it; she reciprocates his feelings, and she would love to start a new chapter of her life with him.

Thus, they begin dating! Everyone's happy for them, especially Clover and the Feisty Four, who has been privy to all of their subtle and not so subtle flirting and obvious pining. Starlo and Ceroba were already raising Clover together, but now it becomes a lot more overt. After they date for a while, Ceroba invites Starlo to move in so he can spend more time with her and Clover and be a proper family. He does so, gladly - though he probably does shed a tear or two moving out from the house he shared with his posse.

#undertale yellow #north star #ceroba #staroba #starlo uty #ceroba uty #the cowboy hat yodels #Lucky Clover AU #starlo x ceroba #This is cringe but I am free. Hello I'm NSCowboyHat and I will take any excuse to wax poetry about my OTP #Props to you if you read this novel I have so so SO many thoughts about Staroba #They are drenched in tragedy but I need for them to be happy despite it all

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jennarations · 8 months

Note

Would love your landoscar fic recs 💌

your wish is my absolute command 🫡🫡

i’ve gone back to college and started student teaching and gotten covid and adopted a kitten all in the last two weeks so i haven’t gotten to read as much but here is what i’ve got! the key is the same as the lestappen fic rec:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Here we go! I’m also tagging some of the bestest and loveliest authors at the bottom of the post, go send them some love!! (Putting it under a Read More for all of our collective sanity)

My one (1) work (shameless self plug heheheh):

> Thunderstruck =

Lando has a childhood fear of thunderstorms and in a record-breaking year for rainfall, Oscar Piastri becomes his new teammate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50579323?view_adult=true

• Falling in love, Slight pining, Fluff, Humor *8.1k

—

> If You’re Barbie, And I’m Barbie, Then Who’s Driving the Bus? =

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment.

Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie.

Charli XCX, no less.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48940792#main

• Fluff, Comedy *800 words

> Mortifying! Anyways, =

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut–

“Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49328047/chapters/124474876?

• College AU, Clumsy Lando, Meet-cute *2.3k

> The New Normal =

He wears a lot of shorts.

Lando had thought that Daniel wore shorts a lot, and then along came Oscar. It must be something about Australians.

Carlos never wore shorts.

Oscar’s pale, unblemished, muscular (and hairy) thighs spill out of the team issued black shorts whenever they sit to film content, or sit in meetings, or whenever Oscar sits in Lando’s general vicinity while wearing them.

They’re not a distraction.

OR Lando’s very healthy obsession with his new teammate’s thighs.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49335997/chapters/124496539?

• Pining, Slight smut *8k

> Invocations One Fall Away From the Concrete = ♥️

“Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though.

Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper.

Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

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

AKA the low-key superpowers au where they have to activate their powers doing a really specific thing. Oscar's activation is a mystery to Lando, but it involves a lot of good stuff, pinky promise. (Lando Wink™)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49508506/chapters/124953475?

• Non-Driver AU, Superpowers AU, Roommates, Slight Angst, Fluff, Humor *10.3k

> Only Found = ♥️

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically.

Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?”

cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49218676#main

• Non-Driver AU, Soulmates AU, Lawyer!Oscar, Streamer!Lando, Angst, Fluff *6.8k

> Carried Away =

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48871015#main

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Humor *22.1k

> Little Bit of Love =

“I’m freezing,” Lando says. Whines, really. “Don’t be mean, Oscar, I feel like shit.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49143811

• Sick fic, Fluff, Realization of Feelings *4.7k

> Signed Sealed =

Delivered

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48959461#main

• Text fic, NSFW pics *4.3k

> Smokeshow =

Because Oscar won the American football challenge, Lando had to wear the cheerleader uniform.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48546973#main

• Smut, Cheerleader uniform Lando, Brat!Lando *3.5k

> I’ll Kiss You First =

“Uh,” Oscar says, when they’re in the car on their way to the airport. “I think you’re—um. Going into heat, mate.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47264011#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Oscar, Omega!Lando, Smut *3.1k

> Sunflower Seeds =

Not worth dwelling on, really. Oscar doesn’t have to understand him to be on his team. If he were a pitcher, it would be different; Oscar has to get his pitchers in order to do his job as a catcher well. Lando isn’t a pitcher, though. So it’s fine.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596088/chapters/125175172?

• Non-Driver AU, Baseball AU, Realization of Feelings, Fluff *8.6k

> Chronically Bitchless But Still Wifed Up = ♥️

Lando wasn’t above throwing his weight around in order to get what he wanted, at least in some circumstances. And he wanted to meet Oscar Piastri.

In general, he wanted to go to a MotoGP weekend and probably could have either bought tickets and waited around there like a normal person or asked one of his actual sort-of friends in the paddock to hang out in their garage, but the more specific desire was to meet Oscar Piastri.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49301212#main

• MotoGP!Oscar, Driver!Lando, Fluff, Humor *8.3k

> Negative Splits =

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner.

They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in.

Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161206#main

• Non-Driver AU, Professional Runner AU, Injuries, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort *10.1k

> Thinkin Bout Your Touch =

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704749?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.3k

> I’ve Tasted Blood (And I Want More) =

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48136999#main

• Vampire!Oscar, PWP *5.6k

> Legerdemain =

“You’re so modest it’s disgusting,” Lando says. “Michelle’s told me all about it. You winning against some master back in Australia. Anyways, she wants to hop on the bandwagon, get us to play chess, take photos after the weekend. She thinks you could teach me. It would show that you’re pedantic and that I’m pushing past my comfort zone...”

Oscar scoffs. “If Michelle’s only taking photos, why do I need to teach you it? Couldn’t we just pose with a chess set, like the Williams drivers?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49690744/chapters/125422075?

• Chess, Humor, Sexual Tension *5.8k

> What You Do To Me =

“Oh,” Oscar says, because what else are you supposed to say when your teammate says ‘I wish I still had a girlfriend so I could fuck some of that frustration out of me’. “I mean. I uh. I could give you a blowjob? I’d suggest a fuck but I don’t have any lube on me right now and I’m guessing you don’t either.”

Huh, would you look at that. Looks like the award for ‘most insane statement of the night’ doesn’t go to Lando after all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47993518?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.5k

> Purring in My Lap (cause he loves me) =

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47878867#main

• Cat!Oscar, Fluff, Slight Angst *5k

> In Limbo =

“So what, you like me?”

Tick this box for yes, and this box for no. Fold it tight. Slide the paper under the desk. Don’t let anyone see.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619383#main

• PWP, Dubious Consent *2.3k

> Eyes on Me =

He just doesn’t understand why Oscar stares so much.

It first comes to his attention at the pre-season media shoots. They have to be photographed in the new gear, and the new suits, and all the while a video camera is rolling to capture content for some behind the scenes pre-season footage. Lando likes to look back at the content they film, just to see how awkward he is.

He looks over some of the test photos while the videos load, and he sees Oscar’s eyes on him a lot of the time. Lando’s own are on the camera, his posture relaxed as he goes through the motions of what the team asks of him.

Lando notices just how much Oscar stares at him, until one day he realises just how much he stares back.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49769368#main

• Mutual Pining *3.8k

> Home Is Wherever You Are =

‘You know, we could ask Carlos to babysit tonight,’ Lando mumbled against his mouth.

Oscar pulled back and hit his husband’s chest while laughing at him and shaking his head.

‘The man just arrived, babe, we can’t ask that right away!’

Lando pouted and pulled Oscar back against his chest. ‘But it’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us.’

OR: Lando and Oscar spend the day with their daughter and friends before finally having some alone time

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49909321

• Kid!fic, Established Relationship, Fluff *4.1k

> Grand Theft August =

Oscar Piastri, eh? It's not the worst idea he's ever had.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49975555?view_adult=true#main

• Angst, Humor, Smut *6.9k

> We’re All in the Butter But Some of Us Are Looking At the Cars = ♥️

Under it, the cross stitch with the Mandela quote, there was another one. A different one. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Stars, again. And then the one beneath that was also about stars. Weird, he thought, then went to the till to wait for his sister.

Above the pile, too high for twelve year old Oscar to read, a sign was stamped. SECTION #13: REACH FOR THE STARS.

Twenty two year old Oscar rests his nose to the glass and looks at the clouds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49696357

• Angst, Slow burn, Prose, Realization of Feelings *14.3k

> Terraforming =

“WORMHOLES! An Einstein brain child. They are created when FTL objects puncture the bed sheet that is our universe. Going through them should be a trip through timespace, which sounds cool, except it’s not because we never know what’s on the other side—”

“I think you meant fabric, not bed sheet,” Oscar says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, mate.”

“For what?”

“For like. The fabric of the universe.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50099659

• Space AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst, Happy Ending *8.8k <- I literally haven’t read this yet because it was uploaded today but i love enzo and all their stuff is fantastic so i’m rec’ing it anyway :)

> Superdense Neutron Star//Post Supernova +

It felt good to laugh. Thursdays already kind of sucked, all of the walking and talking and nothing to do, even when he wasn’t being drilled on the abrupt shift of his career. It was manageable because it had to be; because there was half a season left and a championship spot left to fight for and a team that was still his home, even if he’d just been delivered the eviction notice.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49981615/chapters/126195823

• Angst, Fluff, Ambiguous Ending *21.8k <- i also have not had the time to read this one because of life, but i trust leaf with my feelings (and my life) so this also goes on the list.

EDIT 11/5: More additions to the list!

> Unraveled =

Lando does not have a thing for his roommate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50085112/chapters/126476167?

• Non-Driver AU, Roommate AU, Bartender!Lando, Realization of Feelings *7.1k

> It’s Not Queerbaiting, It’s Saving the World =

Lando bursts into Oscar’s room without knocking. He’s red in the face and panting, sweat collecting on his forehead like he just ran a marathon.

“You need to kiss me.”

or, the drivers stage a protest, of sorts. Oscar might lose his mind.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49710619#main

• Fluff, Humor *1.6k

> Melepathic. Or Something =

“Thank God we used condoms,” mutters Oscar later, when they’re presentable, no doubt thinking back to last week when they. Well. Lando peeks out the door to check if the hallway is clear. It is.

“Yeah,” he says as he gestures Oscar out. “See you in a few, mate.” Oscar slips through and Lando picks up his phone again, sees a new message. Up for some fun tonight?

sure, says Lando after a moment. Amen to short refractory periods and all that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47589115#main

• Smut, Miscommunication, Happy Ending, FWB *8.5k

> What Would You Do (If I Went To Touch You Now?) =

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.”

“How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.”

Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Initiating Mission Landoscar.”

“Did you just make that up?”

Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength.

***

In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48745483/chapters/122963314

• Lestappen as a plot device, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff, Humor, Texting, Escape Room Shenanigans *29.7

> Soft Vanilla Foreplay = ♥️

“Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.”

Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?”

Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50382910/chapters/127293583?

• Vigilantes, Cat!Oscar, Hacker!Lando, Non-Driver AU, Slight angst, Humor, Happy Ending *8.6k

> Is it Gay to Watch Your Teammate on TikTok? (Asking for a friend) +

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating.

It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”.

And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/127611460?

• Fluff, Humor, Ship aware Lando (containment breach of RPF), Pining *4.6k

> HOCKEY!!! Shrimp Colors :) =

Montreal puts Oscar on waivers after years - years of bouncing from the feeder team up to the league, and then back down. Edmonton picks him up.

Edmonton keeps him. Lando does, too.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50562061/chapters/127728067?

• Non-Driver AU, Hockey AU, Leaf puts sports boys into other sports, Angst, Fluff *13.8k

> My Shelter in a Hurricane =

Oscar wants to help Lando get better after the disappointment of Qatar's GP qualification. He doesn't know how...

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50639854/chapters/127923673?

• Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Qatar Quali, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Pretty When You Cry =

Lando wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, rip his hairs out, punch a hole into a wall, maybe shove someone, or maybe all of the above.

Or: the mclaren boys comfort each other after that shipwreck of a qualifying.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50624551?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Already Home = ♥️

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50704861/chapters/128087614?

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Marriage, Falling in Love, Angst, Humor, Fluff *32.5k

> Do You Like Me? Y/N =

oscar & lando have an awkward plane conversation, aided by uquiz.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50706235/chapters/128091004?

• Fluff *3.8k

> Recreate the Sun =

“You know who you sound like when you say that?” Lando asks absently, tossing the open bag of Skittles to one side and hoisting himself up the bed to rest against the pillows, head tipped back, the jut of his Adam’s apple catching stark in the TV’s flickering light.

On some level, Oscar already knows what’s coming. The Cheshire cat grin Lando gives to the ceiling near enough confirms it.

“Who?”

“Mark Webber.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632239

• PWP, Weed use, Oscar/Mark mentions *3k

> Landoscar Cooking Show =

Lando and Oscar's love story through food-related posts on Instagram

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50825998#main

• Picture fic, Social media fic, Fluff *0k

> Little Renaissance = ♥️

And Oscar - people said he didn’t like the spotlight, didn’t know how to capture it and keep it the way Lando did. They always compared the two of them, in that regard. Even after Oscar left. But they weren’t right, the strangers, not after the first year at least.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50824324/chapters/128393929?

• Future Fic, Retirement, Angst, Pining, Acceptance, Happy Ending, Prose *14.2k

> Those Magic Changes =

“Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?”

Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table.

“Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49308133#main

• Fem!Oscar, Smut, PWP *7.8k

> Sometimes I Start To Think You Hate Me Too =

Lando seems to have come to the conclusion that his strategy of appeasing him isn't working, so he opts for being impersonal, objective. "You were optimistic, Carlos locked up, you both crashed. It was a racing incident, and you - you are being dumb about it."

It doesn't work.

He scoffs, upset, he has never left anything well alone, he digs his heels deeper. "I wasn't too optimistic, I was inexperienced, was I not?"

OR,

The deep fear of yearning, wanting and needing without understanding the jealousy that consumes you. Breaking and breathing heavily under an awfully put facade of everything going well.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49659349/chapters/125339467?

• Angst, Inner Turmoil, Fluff, Happy Ending *3.7k

> Mine =

All in all, it’d been a shit weekend for Oscar. He knew he was beating himself up over understandable, expected rookie mistakes, he knew it was a great learning opportunity, he knew that the damage to his car hadn’t been entirely his fault on both occasions. Even if he didn’t show it or express it outwardly, it stung to watch his teammate stand on the podium - P3 - after all that’d happened. It hurt even more when that P3 became P2 before they’d even finished celebrating.

Lando moved up in the championship, so did the team. He deserved it, but it hurt like a bitch.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51053692?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Dom!Oscar *2.8k

> Sanctus = ♥️

“Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria,” Oscar read. Recited. Proclaimed.

“There is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery,” Lando echoed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50752399/chapters/128207113?

• Renaissance AU, Non-Driver AU, Angst, Master/Servant Relationship, Religious Imagery, Fluff, Happy Ending *5.5k

> Anything Less Than Human =

Oscar doesn’t really do entrances. Sure, in high society, it’s deemed necessary to stand at the top of some ridiculous staircase and wait for someone to announce your arrival. But that really only works in your favor if your name has any kind of good status associated with it.

Oscar’s not fortunate enough to fall into that category.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49902154/chapters/125979850?

• Vampire!Oscar, Masquerade Ball, Consensual Blood Sucking *2.7k

That’s all for now folks!

Authors (i love and cherish u all, you’re simply the light of my life):

@wanderingblindly @eisenberg @ocontraire @celientjeee @nyoomfruits @gaslybottoms and @ venerat (ao3 user)

P.S. whoever the nonnies are that wrote “Grand Theft August” and “We’re All in the Butter but Some of us are Watching the Cars” i would literally pay you to step on me, thanks and good night.

#fic rec #oscar piastri #lando norris #landoscar #landoscar fic rec #mctwinks #mclaren #formula one fic rec #formula one #f1

128 notes · View notes

agendabymooner · 11 months

Text

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early.

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week.

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers.

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that.

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them.

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works.

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room.

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot.

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.”

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?”

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet.

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located.

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel.

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates.

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does.

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth.

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression.

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?”

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?”

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?”

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.”

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously.

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow.

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready.

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.”

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.”

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much.

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?”

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context.

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.”

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.”

“Is he?”

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone.

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes.

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again.

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.”

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.”

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?”

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it.

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up.

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today.

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?”

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.”

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him.

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?”

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him.

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.”

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.”

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity.

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice.

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room.

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.”

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise.

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.”

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?”

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?”

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips.

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.”

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff

152 notes · View notes

runningupthatvecna · 1 year

Text

the law of seat partners | part 3

part 1 | part 2

a/n: ok this chapter is honestly a wild ride from start to finish, really had to look into google maps to get the geographics right here, sorry if it's a bit inaccurate, the dimensions in the us are a bit difficult to grasp for my european brain lol. same goes for the bus interior and the structure of road houses. also this is gonna be super self-indulgent since i keep picturing eddie as someone with this wholesome, kind and super soft stray dog side of personality that you only get to see once you break through his shell and i'm basically just romanticising the shit out of him in this entire story. also i apologize if the whole part is a bit random, it's just that i didn't plan for this thing to even have more than one part lol. anyway, thanks for reading and please leave me comments and reblogs if you're enjoying this little series! there will be a part 4.

summary: you're still on that damn bus with eddie. he plays you some of his favourite songs and they turn out to sound really familiar. when you do finally arrive at the camp, you find yourself spending even more time with your favourite metalhead and he makes it just a bit more clear that he might really like you back. and yeah, everyone around you already seems to know.

cw/tw: first off i want to clarify that eddie and reader both are at least twenty! slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers overall, (brief) allusions to +18 adult content (minors go away!), sexual tension, lots of physical touch, reader being self-conscious, angst, not feeling good enough briefly, a bit of self-sabotage if you squint, a few more pet names, bestfriend!Steve being reader's rock once again, reassurance, eddie not committing a crime, no mention of y/n, no mentions of reader's physical attributes except hair.

-----

Lunch break acted as a reminder that the rest of your friends were also still there.

That's how lost you were getting with Eddie Munson and your legs in his lap.

The gang was once again standing in a kind of circle shaped form outside on the parking lot next to the bus. You had passed Chicago already a while ago and the blue sky hadn't exactly followed you to Wisconsin, but thankfully it wasn't raining either.

Without even thinking about it you had taken the position between Eddie and Steve.

Jonathan and Nancy were standing opposite of you, the former holding his beloved pentax in his hands, it dangling from his shoulder on a strap being the guy's default. Always ready to press the shutter, just so now.

Steve groaned a little, complaining about how his hair just wasn't looking good enough to be in a photo right now, but no one cared. As someone who loved taking photos – probably even more than the Byers boy – it was in fact one of your pet peeves whenever someone complained about having their photo taken. In your book, photos depicted memories. Why wouldn't you want to be in them?

"You gonna fill that film up today, Jon?", you asked with a grin, and the photographer just nodded.

"Alright, now that we caught Steve's mesmerizing beauty on film, anyone wanna go grab a bite?", Robin asked into the round while shifting her weight continuously from her toes to her heels and back, trying her best not to sound too desperate to get something between her teeth.

"Oh shit yeah, I'm dying", Steve replied after a quick yawn and stretch and the three freshmen boys agreed with heavy nods and exclamations of the words yes and finally.

Their boyish eagerness made Nancy chuckle just a little, and she continued by taking the hand of the older Byers boy and pulling him along with her, leading the way to the building for the rest of you.

Jonathan kept turning around every few meters to just take candids of everyone, trying to fill up the roll of film just so he could reload once you guys would arrive at the camp.

Everyone in the gang seemed to be willing to at least check out the offers from the shop, and like, get a slushie or something.

"M'lady?"

Eddie had squinted one of his eyes shut looking at you while holding his arm out for you to hold onto it, just so you both could follow the group.

"Oh, thank you good sir."

He was just a little taller than you, which made walking with your arm hooked into his quite comfortable.

You threw the knowing smile of his towards you right back at him.

And while you were following the rest of your friends, he leaned in to talk to you. Even more.

"Quite rude of Ms Kelley to interrupt our sacred listening session like that. I guess she just doesn't seem to value a good tune, huh?"

"We didn't even start the tape, Eddie."

"But we already had headphones on so we were about to, that still counts."

He poked a finger into your side while walking, trying to stop you from bringing another absolutely valid and logical argument to his silly remark, making you squeak and jump to the side a little instead, letting go of his arm.

You only could see Steve's head turn towards you, having heard your exclamation of surprise. More of his reaction was kept hidden from you though, since Eddie had decided to continue poking, so you were left with no choice but to run, giggling like a toddler.

"Eddieeee, stoooop", you yelled in a higher pitch than your normal voice, trying and failing miserably at the attempt to hide between Robin, Will and Lucas.

You could hear your friends laugh, the sight must have been hilarious.

There was no escaping Eddie the freak Munson.

You had almost reached the motion sensor of the front door when he grabbed you by the waist, pulled your back flush against his front and apparently felt no hesitation encasing you in his arms entirely. He let out a short, low hum at the feeling and it sent a shiver straight through you.

You were slowly getting warm at the frequency you were having physical contact with him, but having so much of his body touching yours in this way did not leave you unaffected in the slightest.

His embrace made your heartbeat speed up, but it also transported this really comforting, almost soothing wave of feeling protected.

And it had you yearning for him. And it was essentially confusing you.

"Say that I'm right", you heard his deep voice mumble, the side of his head pressed lightly against yours.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. The way he smelled. The way he held you tight.

Yeah, bye.

"Huh?"

You wanted your voice to sound equally low to his, but it didn't come out quite as such.

"Ms Kelley disrespects the law."

He couldn't be serious.

"Eddieeeeee!", you laughed at his silliness and the great amount of dramatics he put into his persistence with referring to his law of seat partners rule joke thing.

The long haired boy let go of you since the others had caught up. You just saw him grin at you, before Steve swung an arm around his shoulders, pulling his best friend through the sliding doors, while you felt Max grab your hand.

The road house your teachers had decided to stop at consisted of a restaurant, bathrooms of course and a small convenience store, the latter being the destination of Max and you, while the others ventured out into the restaurant, trying to find something warm and edible to stuff themselves with before they would join the both of you.

"Are you having a good time? With him, I mean", Max dropped at you, slowly strolling through the aisles of products that ranged from sweets over car supplies to toothpaste.

The widest grin was plastered over her face as she eyed you curiously.

The question surprised you a little. And maybe you hadn't really been aware of your surroundings for the last few hours, for obvious reasons.

"Hm? Oh yeah, he's being so sweet", you replied to your friend, "not sure what's gotten into him today though, he's never been like this."

Max gave you a questioning look, clearly asking you to elaborate.

"I don't know, I mean he's always throwing arms around me and stuff, but this, I don't know, this feels different", you continued, not being able to meet her eye, "I mean, he's always nice to me when we're around each other, but he seems so much m–"

"He likes you."

Max interrupted your sentence.

"What?"

"It's so fucking obvious. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I mean, yeah sure you had taken notice of the way he had been gazing at you with his baby cow eyes all day today. Actually, ever since he met you all those months ago, now that you're thinking about it. But why would you read anything into that?

You felt warmth spreading over your cheeks.

Did Eddie Munson really like you? Like that?

"He's just being nice, Max."

Only now you shot her a look, trying to tell her what you were too self-conscious, even anxious about to say out loud.

Guys never really seemed to see you as someone they could like. You were so used to the vast majority of them treating you as one of their bros, if they even treated you like anything at all, so when there was someone showing interest in you in other ways, it freaked the living hell out of you. To the point of denying yourself something potentially nice. Or more like, someone nice.

"Just nice? He is never that nice to me! I think you're just way too much in your head about this. You know you like him. And he likes you back, it's crystal clear to me, in fact, to all of us."

Wait. All of them? Had he talked to anyone about you?

Now you were the one giving her the questioning look, and before you could say anything, Robin popped up next to the both of you with a pair of wide eyes along with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, what are we buying, hm? I need more cookies, Steve and Jonathan ate all of them already", she informed you, walking off to find her restock of baked sweets, just as quickly as she had appeared.

You giggled lightly at the similarity of her and your snack situation.

Max only gave you a grin and a wink through her sky blue eyes before following Robin to the cookie section. The boys and Nancy returned from their feast not long after and you had tried your best to bring your focus to the task at hand: finding something snackable that wasn't too much of an overload, but also essential for the remaining time on the road.

Steve grabbed and pulled you away from the others on the way outside, back to the bus. The thirty minutes were almost over and no one wanted to risk being left in the middle of nowhere aka Bumfuck, Wisconsin, nor having a search party consisting of Ms Kelley and Mr Clarke out roaming the area.

"Hey there", Steve looked at you while walking by your side and throwing an arm around you.

He truly was your best friend and so you just happened to know everything about each other's lives. He had always been your rock throughout high school and mainly responsible for having you be part of the gang. He knew about your issues and always tried to give you advice.

You let your arm sneak around Steve's back, around the height of his waist.

"Everything alright with you, honey?"

You glanced up at him just nodding and he shot you a knowing look, before turning his head around to wink at someone.

The grin on his face widened before turning his attention back to you.

"Uh yeah, I'm having a good time, thanks for checking on me", you replied to him while holding onto the box of chocolates you had ended up buying.

"Munson treating you right I hope, yeah?", Steve inquired further.

You could feel your heart jump a little at the mention of Eddie's name. What you also could feel was the eyes of the long wavy haired boy on your back. He had run after Dustin who had pinched his ass on the way out and you just assumed they were a bit further behind you and Steve.

"A bit more than usual, yeah. I don't really understand why, though. Max said he likes me? But–"

A little frown now covered Steve's lightly freckled face.

You stopped. He stopped. And kept his arm around you. And then you sighed, when his big brown eyes found yours and the way he looked at you changed into a worried brow furrow.

"I think I'm terrified, Steve. I don't know how to behave around him seriously and I don't know how to handle all the affection. That's all so new and I don't want to disappoint him because he deserves someone who's able to give him everything he wants and he's already making himself vulnerable by letting someone in close like that and what if he's gonna realise that I'm just really weird for not being used to–"

"Hey, hey sweetheart, slow down", Steve put a stop to your little ramble, a soft tone to his voice, "you're overthinking. You like him, isn't that right?"

You just looked up at him, almost a bit teary eyed since you were realising a lot of things at the moment, and dealing with your own insecurities and issues was just not easy. Especially in a situation where you couldn't retreat or flee.

And then you nodded.

Steves frown shifted into a grin.

"Then there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Eddie right there is probably genuinely surprised that you're not shying or running away from him, like everyone else. Just look."

Steve pointed in Eddie's direction which made you turn your head. Next thing you saw was the metalhead chasing after Dustin again, both of them running through the group trying not to bump into anyone, all the way over the expanse of the parking lot like two headless chickens, his dark mane flowing in the wind which carried the laughter and giggles of the whole group over to you.

The sight made you laugh a little.

"I mean, not that he really ever tried to get close to someone, like, he doesn't have to try for people to be sort of intimidated and even scared off by him, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I just know for a fact that you could never disappoint him. I'm very sure he's gonna be fine adapting himself to your pace", Steve explained and then paused to take a deep breath.

"It's up to you of course, but I'd just hate to see you get in your own way just because you're too much in your own pretty, little head."

You had snapped your head around again, and Steve lovingly ruffled your hair a little, the way he always did when he tried to tell you that he'd always be there for you and the situation you'd found yourself in would turn out just fine.

You would be just fine.

Deep down you knew Steve was right.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You know how I can get sometimes", you replied to him, reciprocating the same look Steve was now giving you. The depth in his brown eyes was radiating warmth and it helped you calm down your racing thoughts. Steve had known Eddie for a bit longer and was closer with him in general, which was one of your reasons to believe the words of your best friend. In this moment at least.

-----

It was time for the tape.

You took off your shoes again and pulled your legs up to rest your feet on the barrier, this time right in front of you, facing more towards the window.

The boy next to you was still trying to catch his breath from shaking off some energy, pulling a squished paper bag with greasy spots out of the back pocket of his jeans and placing it on his lap, before he lost the vest and leather jacket. He then proceeded to sit down, take both of your headphones and held yours out to you.

"Alright, unlike Ms Kelley, let's obey the law again, huh?"

He let out a deep chuckle when you nodded with a smile.

"Oh hey, and I got you some extra fries, just in case you get hungry."

He handed the small paper bag to you.

Did he just carry fries in his ass pocket?

The thought made you snort.

Oh Munson.

"Did you pay for them?"

"Yeah of course I did. Is that all you think of me, sweetheart?"

There they were again. His dark brown doe eyes blinking at you all sweet, the purest form of Eddie he was willing to show you in this moment.

He was clearly letting you in. Showing himself to you. Letting you read his eyes, hoping you would take the hint which he secretly was yet too insecure to speak out.

He was the town's freak after all and getting his hopes up had never really turned out too positive for him. It had painfully taught him to better keep everyone at a distance.

It took every little ounce of willpower that you could find in yourself to not melt into a puddle, right there in that seat.

And if that wasn't enough already – him being thoughtful enough to think of you while devouring his own lunch – he pressed play on your walkman, before you could give him any sort of response to the fries situation.

The fact that the opening chords of Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears now filled your ears, your absolute favourite song, was sending you into another dimension.

How did he know your favourite fucking song? Did he ask Steve? He must have asked Steve.

He had asked Steve specifically about your music taste.

So many thoughts were flooding your brain at the same time, you were having trouble catching up.

The boy next to you just grinned at your visibly delighted reaction. And then he leaned in a little and you felt the heat once again rise to your cheeks.

"Is that good, that's a real good song, yeah?", you heard him ask, a very light sultry tone to his voice, after you quickly pushed one of your headphones behind your ear.

"Yes Eddie, immaculate choice right there", you praised him in a similar tone, before giving him a genuine giggle, unable to hide the way he was undeniably making you all flustered and earning another warm chuckle from him in return.

The way his cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of rose almost made your heart combust in your ribcage. At this point he was practically beaming with pride, reveling in the fact that he had elicited praise out of you. And it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

You lightly nudged your shoulder into his, which made him lift his arm, a gesture for you to lean into his figure.

"Come here, you."

That head of yours landed on his shoulder and you let him drape his arm over your torso like a seatbelt. A (still very) warm hand was placed between your waist and hip and you were pretty convinced it was going to burn a big hole right through the fabric of your shirt.

He just had to touch you, right?

His boldness however gave you enough of a confidence boost to return the gesture. At this point you needed to tell him, too. Make him feel the burn on his own skin. So you just hugged his arm, pulling it close and nuzzling the side of your face into the soft fabric of his hellfire shirt covering the skin between bicep and shoulder.

With every song you went on listening to, it became more clear than ever that Eddie Munson must really have gone all the way to Steve Harrington's house to ask him for a list of your favourite songs. Which he could then put on a mixtape. For you.

That's what you do for friends, right?

Yeah, right.

For a few songs you both just sat there in utter peace as you watched the landscape outside the window pass by. The wide plains of Wisconsin, fields of crops, forests, small gatherings of houses, farms, barns and horses and cows and sheep. The sky was slowly losing its light grey cover, which had you anticipating an actually nice sunset later.

He had leaned his head against yours, which made his warm breath trickle down the side of your neck down to your collarbone. And you had felt the goosebumps spread all over your arms underneath your longsleeve.

You were feeding off of the warmth radiating from Eddie's body once again, and the ringed hand on your waist had started rubbing up and down softly and slowly.

When Eddie felt you leaning more of your weight into his side, you could hear him let out a satisfied little sigh.

Every second of this part of your little road trip, whenever he tried to search for some form of physical closeness, felt like a fever dream.

And you didn't want to wake up just yet. How about never?

-----

Golden hour announced itself by coating the trees of the forest, the earthy paths for walking, the accumulation of dark wooden cabins and the water on the vast lake in gradients of yellow and orange.

Said lake would look more like the sea to you, it made little waves that were lightly crashing onto the shore of a small beach of a bay around which the camp was located, and it was so vast in fact that you were unable to see the opposing shore on the horizon.

You had just woken up from another nap which you had slipped into after one, two, you actually don't know how many hours of watching the endless fields and forests pass by through half-closed eyelids. Listening to The Romantics, New Order, Fleetwood Mac, The Cure, Genesis and of course Metallica, on Eddie's account.

Still surrounded by the warmth of his body, still tucked in between torso and arm. His hand however had sneakily breached an invisible barrier, now resting comfortably beneath the hem of your shirt on the skin of your waist. You didn't dare to check, but the hole in your shirt was certainly there now, burned through.

Even Ms Kelley's announcement of your arrival didn't bother any of you to move or shift positions. Or god forbid, separate your bodies.

You only slightly turned your head to watch Mr Clarke leave the bus in the corner of your eye, probably to head into the administration office of the camp with the intention to make your arrival known to the staff and to pick up keys for about 40 students.

From what they had told you pre-trip, you were gonna be sharing a cabin with Nancy, Robin and Max, since the plan foresaw keeping the middle schoolers separate from the older kids. And of course there couldn't be any cabins accommodating groups of mixed genders.

Which is precisely why Eddie was going to share his cabin with Jonathan, Steve and Dustin, while Lucas and Will had the honours to be joined in theirs by Gareth and Jeff.

Before letting you go to take the headphones off and gather all your things, Eddie's grip on your waist tightened a bit as he pulled you minimally closer for just two seconds, the vibration of his chest against your back telling you that he was humming softly.

You already missed him, and you hadn't even left the bus yet.

The structure of the camp was simple. There were ten cabins, each of them intended to accommodate up to four people comfortably. A row of them was spread out along the shore of the lake directly by the water. Another row spread out further towards the forest. Both separated by the same earthy pathway stretching and winding itself through the entire place, connecting the cabins to the rest of the camp. There were little houses with sanitary facilities not too far from the cabins, a little square with lots of seating opportunities intended for bonfires, barbecue and other gatherings, the office house, the beach further down the path past the cabins, and a pergola kinda situation with benches for mealtime and a corner with outdoor couches and further more cozy seating.

The cabin you were designated to spend your next 6 nights in was one of those directly by the water. Excitement spread through you at the thought of falling asleep to the peaceful sound of the lake water lightly hitting the shore at night and cicadas singing their songs after sunset. Frogs croaking and birds chirping away. The ambient background noise of a forest by the lake.

You had always been a dreamer.

"Top one's mine!", Robin exclaimed as she was the first one of you to enter, throwing her bag onto one of the top beds that were part of two bunks standing opposite of each other in each corner, a window with light beige and pastel floral curtains separating them.

You were loving the rustic atmosphere. The log aesthetic gave off the biggest summer cottage vibes, so taking in the interior of your small home for the next few days made you smile.

There were two closets with multiple drawers, enough space for accommodating clothing of four people.

The bag hanging from your shoulder landed on the bed below Robin's, while the other two silently agreed on Max above, Nancy on the same level as you.

The beds themselves were about the standard bunk bed size, nothing too fancy, but of course all wooden, fresh bedsheets folded into a neat pile along with a towel decorating the mattress.

While you were getting to making your bed (you knew that you'd thank yourself later), your mind started wondering if you could fit maybe even two people in there. For science, of course.

All of you had agreed to meet at the fireplace once everyone had dropped off their stuff, and when you and the girls arrived there, six pairs of eyes were already awaiting you.

The boys had probably just messily thrown their belongings onto their respective beds, not giving a flying fuck about pulling the covers over the duvets or maybe even taking power naps after the journey.

So yeah, night number one ended with all of you sitting by the fire that Mr Clarke and some guy from the staff team had set up. Conversations about everyone's most anticipated activities that were planned and scheduled for this week were held, your friends' former earth and science teacher telling stories about his first time field tripping back in the day.

Once again you were sat between Steve and Eddie, the metalhead's leather jacket around your shoulders, because he had insisted you'd take it. A sly grin on his face directed at you at the gesture, before turning his attention to the mutual best friend on your other side.

The younger kids had been tucked in by Ms Kelley already, since their curfew had been set to 9pm. Yours was at eleven.

You admired the multiple strings of fairy lights that had been hung into the lower maze of branches long ago, illuminating the earthy pathways throughout the whole camp to keep the kids from stumbling off into some bush or having to pull out flashlights.

At least until midnight, cause that's when the lights were going to be turned off.

-----

Your first full day at camp. The teachers had taken the whole group to a hike through the forest and up the hill at the end of the bay, overviewing the stunning scenery and you had taken a few moments away from everyone to take in the enormousness of the vision opening up in front of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to wrap your head around the moment, taking a few deep breaths, feeling the freshness of the air surrounding you.

Slow down.

The sun made the deep blue of the sky reflect on the lake, a shimmer on the surface in the distance, sparse trees and bushes covering the top of the hill you were standing on, a bit separately from most kids.

The light brush of a hand against yours caused you to shoot open your eyes, jumping lightly at the sudden delicate yet profound touch.

"Uh, sorry I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I can also leave again if you want another moment to yourself?", you heard him say, an apologetic tone to his voice.

The rough facade now showed cracks.

Traces of softness, a great amount of empathy and hints of sensitivity were shining through them. He had always been a little more gentle with you than with everyone else in the group, but this telltale sign of trust he was instilling in you over the last hours? That was new.

So new. And so new to you.

Your head turned towards him, eyes squinting a bit because yeah, it was quite bright up there with almost no trees to throw shade, and of course clumsy you had forgotten your sunglasses on the little nightstand next to your bed.

"Eddie no, it's okay" was the only thing you managed to get out, brushing the back of his hand with the back of your index finger, in silent search for more contact, trying to support the words that had just come out of you.

It was just Eddie. You tried to remember Steve's words from lunch break yesterday. He's gonna be okay with adapting.

He turned his back on the sun, more towards you, and the light formed a halo around his head.

Given his reputation back in Hawkins, it looked hilariously absurd.

"Did you have a good first night?", you asked him then, in such a tone indicating your expectation of a sincere answer, while his shadow was covering half your face so you wouldn't have to stare into the late afternoon sun.

"More or less. You know how Steve snores", Eddie said before continuing his dramatic act, "plus, it was really lonely. I think there should be an additional paragraph in the law about an extension from bus seats to beds, you know? I think that would make a real difference and save me from eternal doom and misery."

He returned your previous gesture with his own index finger, his eyes finding yours, giving you a sheepish grin as your cheeks started imitating the colour of very ripe tomatoes.

Your entire body bloomed with electricity from just one light touch. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was ridiculous.

Yes, there had already been touches that were way more direct than this, but there was something in the way and in the lightness of his touch now, that had your head spinning.

The lightness basically fuelled whatever this thing between the two of you was.

Ms Kelley's voice announcing the beginning of your descend ripped the both of you out of whatever moment you were having right there, and it sucked.

You could have stood there with him for the rest of eternity, if it meant being looked at by his warm, reassuring eyes, making you feel as if you were the center of the universe. It felt like his gaze was reaching the deepest corner of your soul.

And your brain started going 200 kilometers an hour, thinking about the allusion Eddie had just made. He was starting to consume your every thought at this point.

As a collective you managed to return to the deep green veils of the forest around an hour before sunset.

Slowly the day was coming to an end and since it had been a rather warm experience for everyone, the teachers had kindly granted you an evening dip in the lake.

High schoolers only though. Thank fuck.

Honestly, you probably would have gone for it anyway.

The beach included a small wooden pier leading into deeper water, which the boys delightedly acknowledged before using it to gracefully yeet themselves into the cold wet.

They also didn't deem it necessary to strip themselves of their clothes beforehand.

Too much enthusiasm and even more longing for relief from the day's heat and physical efforts. Who knew Michigan could be this warm already in May?

The girls and you had preferred to change into actual swimwear before joining the boys on the beach. A wise decision.

Because now you found yourself standing on the pier together with Nancy and Max, watching Robin follow Steve and dive in head first.

You were silently hoping the water was deep enough for her to not hit her head.

Next thing you saw approaching you on that pier was Eddie, dripping wet everything and soaked to the bone, some worn out jean shorts and dark blue Metallica shirt as well as his dark curls sticking to his skin like glue.

He left a trail of wet footsteps and sprinkles and splashes of water on the dry wood, grinning at you almost eerily and you threw him a similar glance back, because you knew he just wasn't anticipating your abilities to foresee the future when you jumped out of the way the second he started running towards you, trying to pull you into the water with him.

He landed face first, while everyone who had just witnessed that scene bursted into laughter, including you.

"You wish, Munson", you shouted at him and his poorly executed attempt once he had resurfaced, his appearance now reminding you of a wet poodle with his wet dark curls that were sticking to his reddened face, a piece of some green sweetwater plant decorating the top of his head.

You weren't ready to hit the water just yet, which is why Nancy and you decided to just plop down on the pier for a moment with crossed legs, while Max joined Robin and the boys.

Observing the scene happening in front of you, there were Dustin, Lucas and Jonathan, all of them fusioning their powers to swim after a screeching Will who was trying his best to escape being cruelly dunked by his brother and friends, Robin trying to stand on Steve's probably slippery shoulders while Eddie and Max were aiming for the same acrobatic performance.

Nancy next to you let out a chuckle at the sight before turning her head in your direction, "today was so nice, don't you think?"

With a nod you replied to her and leaned back on your arms behind you.

"Yeah it was beautiful! You just don't get those views in Hawkins."

"Yeah, absolutely not. The closest thing you're getting there is Lover's lake with a bunch of drunks fishing in their tiny boats, and that's about it", she paused, "are you in with us for the flower crowns tomorrow?"

Midsummer was still a few weeks away, but that didn't stop you from plucking and braiding.

You and the girls had been having this fantasy of spending this excessive amount of time in nature with flower crowns on your heads, inspired by Scandinavian summer solstice traditions. For weeks you all had been painting this picture in your conversations, anticipation bubbling up every time the topic came up. The picture of the four of you with the flowers of summer in your hair, in the deep green shades and distinct scent of the forest surrounding your every breath these days, had rented a big part of your mind, long before you had stepped on the bus, bringing you here.

"Hm? Oh yeah, definitely."

Losing yourself a little in the thought again, you hadn't yet taken notice of how two figures from the group of people in the water in front of you were missing.

You would learn soon, though.

Because before you knew it, a pair of strong, wet hands hooked themselves in the space of your armpits, lifting you up to stand, while another set of arms wasn't too shy to grab both your legs off the ground, wrapping themselves around your knees.

"Let's get you nice and wet, shall we?", you heard Steve's voice come out behind you in an absurdly husky tone, while–

"Time for your bath, princess!"

Eddie.

You were so taken by surprise, you couldn't even get anything in form of a verbal protest out.

The only thing you saw before your vision went black due to your reflexes was Eddie's mischievous grin between strands of his dark and wet curly mane, Steve's pearly whites being flashed at you equally prominent. Their laughter got muffled by the water invading your ear canals, and the sudden shock of the cold liquid surrounding every inch of your sun warmed skin was forcing a gasp out of your lungs.

When you returned to the surface, both of the boys held onto their bellies, high-fiving one another and still laughing on that pier like two fucking dipshits at you as well as at Nancy who apparently got to suffer the same fate as you, being dropped into the ocean mere seconds later.

With the back of your fingers you wiped the water out of your eyes along with strands of your hair that were clinging onto your cheeks for dear life, while you gathered back clear vision.

Unknowing to the two boys, Jonathan, Lucas and Dustin were currently in the process of sneaking up behind them. With big splashes both Eddie and Steve were forced to ungracefully breach the waves next to you, letting out equally surprised gasps for air before they had to instinctively hold their breaths.

You burst out into another laughing fit when the metalhead slowly appeared next to you just as soaked as half an hour ago, his hair now covering his entire face.

You took one stroke towards him while Jonathan and Dustin landed in the water not too far from you, shortly after being followed by Lucas and Max cannonballing their way in to join everyone.

The laughter and giggles filled the warm air, and you took both your hands to wipe Eddie's mane out of his face, just to reveal his brown chocolate orbs and a dorky smile, gazing at you from underneath.

The ground of the lake where you were finding yourself was close enough for you both to stand on, which made not sinking a lot easier.

"Thanks, sweetheart" was the only thing he brought out before putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping both his arms around your middle, while you responded by wrapping yours around his shoulders.

You thought he was going to bury his face in the crook of your neck with how close he was leaning in just now, connecting his lips to your skin, but all he really did was briefly running his nose over the side of your neck in an upwards motion. Giving you a little nudge while letting out another one of his hums.

It was almost like he wanted to do more than that, it was almost like you could feel him holding himself back. It was almost like you wanted him not to.

His warm breath hit the wet skin on your collarbone and it sent a slight shiver right through your system at the sheer thought of what exactly he was holding back.

And just when you felt him let go of you a bit more, you saw your chance at taking at least a little bit of revenge on him. For conspiring against you with Steve Harrington.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, found purchase on the ground, and your own weight forced him to go head below surface once again.

"Oh darling, that was an unwise decision", was all you heard before he returned the favour, his entire weight on yours as he drowned you beneath him, just before bringing one of his unnecessarily muscular arms around you to pull you back up again swiftly.

Soon after a few more dunks that you practised on Steve and Dustin, your swimming session came to an end when the sun had disappeared behind the trees and the sunset-ish colours of the horizon had faded into several shades of purple and blue.

After fresh showers that helped with rinsing off the lake water and smuck and sweat of the day, the older boys had decided to drop you off at the flower cabin, a nickname for your particular accommodation facility Lucas had come up with during the first bonfire.

To say goodnight or something.

Eddie held you in his grasp, pressed you into his chest for a second, letting you know that you meant something to him, shooting you one last glance, a hint of wistfulness in it, before disappearing surprisingly quickly into the dusk of the forest, towards the cabin he shared with the others.

You hugged Steve and Jonathan goodnight as well, the latter wearing a smirk on his face and you instantly wondered about the reason.

When you looked at your own pillow, you stopped wondering. A polaroid photo had been placed there for decoration, and you let yourself plop down on the mattress to inspect it more closely.

Jonathan had only recently started shooting polaroid in the first place, and the sun had delivered enough light for him to avoid using flash for this one, which had the colours of everything come out more natural.

The photo showed Eddie in his bus seat. You in yours, resting with his arm wrapped around you, his head on yours, both with your headphones on, both passed out. Steve, Dustin, Will and Robin behind you with widened eyes, tongues out and peace signs up.

Unable to hide the smile that spread on your face, you placed the photo on the little nightstand accompanying the bed.

Everyone knew. You knew. Eddie probably knew. But who would say it first?

-----

taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon and @bakugouswh0r3

#eddie munson x reader #the law of seat partners #part 3 everyone wow #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fluff #please be kind #and reblog #and let me know your thoughts #pls #this was a wild ride and took me a lot of nerves #nora writes

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hockeyboysimagines · 2 months

Text

So far from the stars

Chapter 2

Warnings: language, angst

I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 1. I apologize for this taking so long but there’s been a lot going on. I hope to update more regularly going forward.

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

🤍🤍🤍🤍

“I’m so hungover I could die.” She said coughing on the other end of the phone.

He hadn’t slept a minute that night, tossing and turning smiling a little to himself each time he thought about kissing her. He’d been on a high since then, a bounce in his step that hadn’t been there before. He’d called her first thing that morning, preparing to talk to her about the previous night.

This would be it.

He would tell her the truth, get it off his chest and set things right with her. No more secret pining, no more heartbreak, no more angst in his life. His heart was beating so loud he was sure she could hear it through the phone.

“Thanks for bringing me home by the way. And putting me in bed. And getting me pajamas. It was very sweet of you.” She said from the other end.

“You’re welcome. So last night….you had a good time right?” He was attempting to ease into the conversation, and not lead with You stuck your tongue in my mouth that means you like me right?

She was quiet a second “Of course I had a good time. We always have a good time together.”

“No yeah I just mean like, you know after the bar at your house. You had a good time?”

“Did something happen at my house? Most of the night is kind of blurry.” She chuckled “I think those shots were a bad idea.”

He felt like his entire world imploded, raining down on him like a million tiny needles piercing his skin.

She didn’t remember.

She had no idea what had happened between them. It was soul crushing. He had for less than 24 hours a small glimmer of hope that she might feel the same way he did and now that was over. He felt all the air escape him as he deflated like a balloon.

“Uh no. You were just really drunk and I wanted to make sure all was good.” He hoped she was too hungover to notice the hurt and disappointment in his voice.

“Are you okay?” She asked from the other end “it seems like something is wrong.”

“No I’m fine. All good. Uhm..I gotta go, but I’ll call you later.”

She didn’t answer for a second “Okay. Talk then.”

He hung up and fell over sideways on his sofa and covered his eyes.

“God DAMNIT!” He yelled into the empty space, glad he was home alone and didn’t have company. Or neighbors.

He laid there for a long time as a raging headache clouded his brain and made him feel like he was going to throw up. His legs and arms felt heavy and he scrunched his eyes up in frustration, thankful for the quiet.

After a while he stood, turned off all the lights, closed the curtains and put his phone in his bedside drawer, before collapsing on his bed and promptly falling asleep.

*********

“Guess WHO I saw at the grocery store today.” Kasey said as she sat across the table from her and Veronica the next day at their lunch date.

“Who?”

“Brad.” She said making a face and sticking out her tongue.

Courtney glanced at her and scrunched her nose up “Ew. Did you talk to him?”

“Not by choice. I tried to get away but he caught me at the last minute. He said he just moved back. He asked about you.”

“Gross. I don’t want him thinking about me at all ever again.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t think about you when he-“ Courtney slapped Veronica on the arm as she dissolved into a fit of giggles as Kasey continued.

“He asked if you were still around and seeing anyone. So I lied and told him you were dating Jeremy.”

Veronica’s mouth fell open and she let out a breath “You told him what?”

Kasey shrugged with a giggle and picked up her straw “Yeah. I panicked and he was the most logical choice. Anyway, he didn’t seem too surprised interestingly.”

“What else did he say?”

“Nothing too interesting. Just gave me details about his life I didn’t want or need to know and said he hoped he would see us around. I think he meant he wanted to see you around though.”

“I don’t know why he would. Last time I saw him he had his dick so so far in Annie-“

“Ahhh.” Kasey said waving her hands “No need to go back there.”

Her friends never brought him up for her sake. She had been over it for years but they never forgave him for what he did and even went out of their way to make the remaining months before he transferred schools miserable for him.

Jeremy in particular.

Had she not had them, her high school boyfriend cheating on her would have been the end of the world, but her friends had paved it over so it didn’t hurt as bad. The boys took every chance they had to knock his books out of his hands in the hall, or give him a good shoulder check into a locker, and Kasey and Veronica told everyone who would sit still long enough about Annie on the bus till it got back to a teacher and they both got suspended. She suspected that was why Brad transferred schools.

“What did he say about Courtney and her real life fake boyfriend?” Veronica asked after they gave the waitress their order.

“He said he wasn’t surprised and that he always saw it coming.”

Courtney frowned “Yeah I know. He was always weird about our friendship in high school too. And he’s not my real life boyfriend. Don’t start with that again.”

She missed the look Kasey and Veronica sent each other but it made her think. Even before the bus incident, he never got along with Jeremy or any of her friends. She didn’t care then and she didn’t care now because she had refused to give him or any of the guys up. No matter how much she liked Brad.

But once upon a time Kasey and Veronica had really pushed the idea of her Jeremy. Both had been gone for most of the summer before Junior year and she and Jeremy got really close in that time. And that closeness was not lost on her friends when they returned to Alaska.

Courtney had no idea what they were talking about, having never even considered he might like her that way. She’d also had her head in the sand and was coming off a breakup but even when she started paying more attention she still didn’t see it. He was just a nice person who liked her as a friend and nothing more.

At least to her knowledge which of course was wrong.

But hours later when she was alone in her house she was still thinking about him.

And about how she hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week.

She was laying in bed staring at the screen of her phone, chewing on her lower lip. She had texted him three times in as many days and she hadn’t heard from him. Normally she wouldn’t be worried, but her last conversation with him wasn’t sitting right with her.

She couldn’t remember a time in her life where she had called or texted him more than once with no response. And that was including when he was in Boston. She’d gotten so used to him being around all the time that when he wasn’t it left a large, glaring hole in her life.

She drummed her fingers on the table and thought about it for a split second and hit the call button.

It rang 2-3-4-6 times before his voicemail kicked in and she frowned and hung up, not leaving a message, dropping her phone on the bed next to her and crossing her arms. She was getting a little annoyed at this point. If he was mad at her he should tell her, but why would he be mad?

She wondered idly for a second if he had met someone and was spending time with her instead. That made her frown deepen. Was he ignoring her for another girl? Was she jealous? She couldn’t be, she shouldn’t be, but she was. She’d never thought something so silly as a relationship could come between them to the point he was ignoring her for a week now but maybe she didn’t know him like she thought.

She had no clue that across town Jeremy himself was lying awake, arm propped behind his head staring at the ceiling. He heard the phone ring, knew it was her, but didn’t even pick it up. He knew if he did, he would answer and act like it was all okay when it wasn’t and he didn’t know if he had it in him to pretend any longer.

He loved her now more than he had ever loved her, but it was starting to hurt him and he couldn’t keep it together around her anymore. He was cracking under the pressure of what he thought once was just a high school crush. It had gotten wildly out of hand and he should have curbed it years ago. He hadn’t given it a good enough try and his infatuation with her was now something to write books about.

He felt stupid.

But life wasn’t a fairytale. He wasn’t a knight who got to marry a princess. He wasn’t guaranteed her heart just because she had his. It was his own fault for digging himself into a hole this way, and he now had to get himself out.

It didn’t seem to matter what he did to get rid of his feelings, it never worked. If anything they got bigger. He’d never felt about any other girl even a fraction of what he felt for Courtney. A girl he’d kissed once who didn’t even remember it.

He had set himself up for failure from the get, and now he was paying for it.

He rolled to his stomach and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, his heart hurt, and he had a raging headache.

All three of which put him right to sleep.

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

“He’s coming right?” Courtney asked Veronica as they heaved a cooler out of the back of Courtney’s SUV and walked it together to the wooden table.

The boys had summoned them for a day of fishing and outdoor activities that afternoon and they had beaten them there with beer and food and whatever else Veronica had thrown in the car.

Kasey frowned from her spot at the table where she was unpacking water bottles “Shouldn’t you know that? I thought you guys were attached at the hip.”

Courtney shrugged and Veronica eyed her “Are you guys not talking?”

“No I just didn’t know is all.”

She hasn’t told them about his mysterious absence during the week and she was hopeful things would go back to normal now that she would be seeing him. She was looking forward to it.

He however was not.

He’d tried everything to get out of it. When Justin had called him and told him they were all meeting at the lake for lunch, fishing and a bonfire he wasn’t quick enough to think of a reason why he couldn’t go. He also wasn’t given much time because they were on his street when he’d gotten the phone call. Just a week ago and impromptu fishing trip would have sent him scurrying around to find his things, but today he felt like his legs and arms were made of lead as he moved at a snails pace to delay the inevitable.

Justin hadn’t explicitly stated that Courtney would be there but as a core and founding member of their merged friend group, he assumed that “everyone” included her.

He hadn’t seen her in a week, and he’d been dodging her texts and calls since the world had toppled in on him last Saturday. It wasn’t her fault, but it still hurt. Ignoring her was wrong and immature but it was all he could do. At this time the weekend prior, he’d been post makeout, running solely on adrenaline. Now he was running on nerves and vomit.

Courtney always made him nervous, but now that he’d kissed her the nerves he felt for her before seemed easy in comparison.

The guys were joking and laughing around him and he could barely hear any of it. It was muffled as he watched the Alaskan countryside move past him.

What would he say? What would he do? Would he throw up?

He was undecided about the first two but the third was a 50% chance of being a yes.

He felt his breath catch in his chest as he spotted her. He hadn’t seen her in a week and he was sure she’d gotten more beautiful than before. And he’d always thought that wasn’t possible.

And yet here she was, knocking him off his feet once again.

She turned at the sound of his door shutting and smiled widely at him “Hey!” She said brightly. He gave her a small smile as he walked past her to where the rest of the guys were. Courtney watched him pass, and felt a little ping of annoyance that he didn’t even talk to her after he’d been ignoring her all week. She was also apparently not the only person to notice.

“What’s that about?” Kasey asked head nodding to Jeremy.

Courtney turned to her and frowned “No idea. He’s been weird since last Saturday.”

“Didn’t you guys hang out Friday night?” Veronica was situating herself across from her at the wooden table and opening a beer can.

“Yeah. He was fine then.” Courtney shrugged “If he wants to talk about it he’ll tell me.” She played it off but she couldn’t stop the frown that came to her face. The others didn’t notice but Justin caught it and hung back behind the others leaning towards her.

“Is he upset with me?” She said softly so the others couldn’t hear her. She was frowning and looked a little hurt, arms folded across her mid section.

Justin glanced at him and shook his head “He didn’t say anything to me, but he definitely just gave you the cold shoulder.” He gave her a nudge “I’ll talk to him. See what’s up. Don’t sweat it.”

She nodded absentmindedly and turned back to her conversation with the girls while Justin made his way back to Jeremy and punched him on the arm.

“Hey asshat. Are you ignoring Courtney?” Jeremy swallowed thickly and glanced at the rest of the guys before he looked at Justin.

“No.”

While he had been avoiding her most of the week but he wouldn’t say he was ignoring her. If she’d called him with an emergency he would have come to her, but he was notably absent from her life because he wasn’t sure how to act around her following the events of the weekend prior. Sure he ha

“Liar. She noticed and so did we.”

“I’m not.” He glanced at them as they all continued to stare at him “I’m not!”

“If that’s your story.” Corey rolled his eyes and made to walk away but stopped “You know, you can’t keep waiting? You continuing to not tell her like this only increases your chances of her finding another Brad.”

He shook his head at him and then walked ahead leaving him with Justin and the others. He was sure they were beyond done with him and his secret pining. It had been years at this point and he’d had yet to make a single move and by this time, his friends were not only firmly in his corner but there was also a shred of desperation on their part for him. He spent most of his time thinking about her and the rest of it that was left talking about her to them. He hadn’t imagined how annoying it probably was to be them.

Justin pursed his lips and rubbed at the scruff on his chin “Did something happen? You seem weirder about her than normal today.”

Even though he couldn’t be honest with Courtney, he could be honest with him. He sighed and nodded “Yeah….yeah. We uhm-we went out for drinks Friday and when I brought her home she-we kissed and it almost went-it didn’t.” He said waving a hand as Justin’s mouth fell open “And then she passed out. And I was going to tell her the next day how I felt and then she didn’t remember any of it so I kept it to myself…and now I’m here. Where I started.”

“I see. Wasn’t expecting that…” just glanced at her and then back at him “So she doesn’t-?”

Jeremy shook his head and felt his ears get red “No.” he said in a small voice “And don’t tell her. I don’t want to make her feel bad.”

Justin nodded “I won’t….but do you think you should? Maybe that will change things.”

Jeremy shook his head “No. it won’t. I’m fine. All good.”

“Hey.” He turned and found himself face to face with Courtney. He leaned away from her a little, alarmed at how close she was and nearly tripped over his own feet.

“Are you okay?” She bumped his shoulder “I can tell something is wrong. Did I do something?”

He pursed his lips and debated on what to say next. He could lie and say it was fine, or make up an excuse even. Keep it to himself for the rest of time and have to watch her meet someone and marry them while he spent life alone.

Or he could tell her the truth. He could finally tell her right here how he felt, the kiss, all of it from the very beginning till now. He could be honest for the first time.

“Not at all. I’m fine. I haven’t really been sleeping much, so I’m just tired is all.” He was disappointed with himself that he chose the first option but revealing her feeling to him was too intimidating to do right now. If he couldn’t do it on the phone, he certainly couldn’t do it in person.

“Oh okay. I called you last week.” She said quietly, crossing her arms and rubbing them. He wanted to reach out and put his arm around her but he kept his hands in his pockets.

He hated that things were weird between them, and he hated that she had no clue why. It was on the tip of his tongue to just tell her, but he couldn’t. Not while they had an audience.

“Yeah sorry I just had a lot going on. I’m okay though really.”

She was frowning and he knew she didn’t believe him. He kept his eyes on the ground, avoiding hers until he felt her hand on his arm and slowed her step, making him slow also till they stopped and he had no choice but to look at her.

“You know you can talk to me right? About anything?” Her eyebrows were knotted together low over her eyes and a small gust of wind blew through her hair sending the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo at him, clouding his thoughts and making him dizzy.

Not this.

He cleared his throat and gave her a fake smile “I know. I’m okay though. Promise.”

She smiled back at him, still not convinced. That wasn’t a real Jeremy smile. She’d seen tons of them and knew enough to know it was fake, but she wasn’t going to push him any further. If he wanted her to know he would tell her and she would respect it. It did make her curious though. They could talk about anything and everything usually but he definitely seemed off. She had been wracking her brain trying to remember if something happened that was just escaping her at the moment. But there was nothing.

She linked her arm with his and gave it a squeeze “Let’s do something this weekend.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe we can get everyone together or something. Do drinks?” She phrased it like a question but she was smiling hopefully at him.

“Yeah. Sounds great.” Who was he kidding? The last thing he wanted to do was get drinks after what happened the last time they got drinks but was he going to say no to her? No. Would he do this to himself every weekend until he left for Boston? Yes.

“That makes me happy. Missed you this week.” She gave his arm a squeeze and sent him a smile as she walked a little ahead of him calling for Kasey and Veronica.

He watched as she walked away and sighed as he felt his heart slide down into his feet “Yeah. I missed you too.”

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