#so i apologised and now we’re okay but i shouldn’t have had to apologise for helping out my younger brother

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ hotel room

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: SMUTTY SMUT (for once)😊, dom!chris, creampie, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!!) kissing, swearing, idk help

a/n: hey hey heyyyyy, finally a HAUNTED HOTEL SMUT? i rarely ever write smut, i just think i’m ass at it LMAO. anyways enjoy😇😇 NOT PROOFREAD LMAO

i’ll say it again, please correct me if there’s spelling mistakes, english isn’t my first language🤡

this is based off this request!

౨ৎ

You, Chris, Matt, Nick, Sam, and Colby were standing the the vault of the Driskill hotel. Sam placed a static box, that’s detects direction of static anomalies (touch, movement?), right on the table.

You were all standing in silence, waiting for something to happen, when Matt’s EMF went off.

“Shit, it just went to yellow,” he chuckled, everyone’s eyes focused on the EMF. Suddenly the static box went off, the loud sound causing you to step in front of Chris in pure horror.

“Fuck- I’m sorry. This shit is creeping me out,” you giggled, sending an apologetic smile to Colby.

“No, you’re good. If you want to stop we can,” he smiled, looking around to see if the others were up to move on.

“No no, not at all. I’m good, it just caught me off guard,” you smiled shyly, turning to face Chris. His arms were wrapped around your waist, resting his face in the crook of your neck. You leaned back into his chest until you felt something.. poke you inner thigh? You immediately realised what was going on, turning to look at Chris.

“Chris..” you whispered for only him to hear. Matt was asking questions, Sam and Colby hyping him up.

“Are you.. hard?” you smiled with a frown, turning all the way around to look up at him.

“I- what..?” he cut himself off.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m so sorry,” he apologised, avoiding your gaze by throwing his head back.

“No, don’t apologise,” you smirked, turning around again to pay attention to what Matt and Nick were talking about.

You decided to tease Chris. The fact you hadn’t even touched, kissed or said anything to Chris, made the fact he was hard even hotter. Your body was pressed against his again, his head resting on the top of your head. You arched your back slightly, pressing your ass onto his crotch. His breath quietly hitched in his throat, his body tense.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath against your ear making legs wobbly. By now you had no idea what Sam, Colby, Matt, and Nick were talking about, your mind too busy running with thoughts of Chris’s dick pressing against your ass.

-

“Okay, I’m thinking we should split up for this. Colby and Matt will go to the third floor, me and Nick to the fifth, and then Y/n and Chris on the seventh. The seventh floor shouldn’t have as much activity, is that alright with you?” Sam asked you since you had told him earlier you were quite scared of all this

“Yes, that’s perfect, thank you Sam,” you smiled reassuringly at him, turning to Chris who just nodded. He had been awfully quiet since you were in the vault.

“Alright, so we only have two cameras, so we’re thinking me and Matt take one and then Sam and Nick one since there shouldn’t be much on the seventh floor. Just tell us if anything happens,” Colby turned towards you, both nodding as you took Chris’s hand in yours

-

“Goodbye!” you waved with a smile at Nick and Sam as they got off the fifth floor, as soon as the old, slow, elevator doors closed, Chris’s lips immediately met yours.

“Woah, someone’s impatient,” you mumbled with a giggle against Chris’s lips, his hands running through your hair.

“Don’t act so surprised, you’ve been teasing me all fucking day,” he panted with a stern expression, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. He then leaned closer again, his tongue slipping past your bottom lip, into your mouth. This went on for a bit until the elevator made a “ding!”, indicating you reached the seventh floor. Chris spent no time grabbing your wrist, pulling you into an empty hotel room.

He gently pushed you against the door, his lips immediately finding your eyes. One hand resting on your hip, the other locking the door behind you.

“You wear that and expect me to keep composure?” he mumbled against your wet lips, now kissing down your neck.

“C-chris you can’t leave hickeys, they’ll notice,” you whimpered softly, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Alright, alright,” he murmured quietly, pulling away to look at you.

“How long do you think we have?” he smirked, a hand tucking strands of hair behind your ear.

“I- uh, like 20 minutes? I don’t know..” you said quietly, on the verge of a whisper.

“Let’s be quick then. Cmon,” he smiled right before he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“Chris!” you giggled, hitting his back.

“Put me down!” you laughed as he positioned you down onto the bed, standing in between your thighs.

“Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he smirked as he wasted no time unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them and your panties down in one. He leaned over your, placing a hand beside your head, the other caressing your cheek as he kissed you passionately.

Chris kept kissing you, one hand travelling down your body, stopping right where you needed him the most.

“Chris..” you whispered in desperation, grabbing his wrist.

“I’m gonna need you to speak up, hm? Y’think you can do that?” he cooed, sliding his index finger gently through your wet folds.

“Chris. Please-“ you whimpered, louder this time, letting go of his wrist. His words made you so weak. “Please touch me, Chris,” you squirmed beneath him. As proud smirk appeared on his lips, painfully slowly pushing a finger inside, making you suck in sharp breath.

“That’s my good girl,” his voice deep, filled with lust. He slowly slid his finger out before pushing it back in, your jaw going slack.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut.

“More, please,” you whined, slowly opening your eyes to look up at Chris.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he smiled, sliding another finger in, pumping them in and out at a steady pace. “Holy fuck, you’re drenched for me, huh?” he teased, leaving a sloppy kiss to your lips.

“Chris, fuck-“ you moaned against his lips. His pace quickened, making you completely weak. You couldn’t think or talk straight, resulting in your jaw wide agape, the kiss turning wet, sloppy, and messy.

“Does that feel good? Am I fingering you so good you can’t even kiss me back properly?” he smirked, continuing to leave wet kissing on your cheek, curling his fingers up inside you, as well as quickening his pace.

“Chris, Chris, Chris,” you moaned his name repeatedly, making him chuckle. The room was quiet, expect for your pants, moans, and the squelching from Chris’s fingers moving rapidly in and out of your dripping pussy.

Suddenly you felt the all too familiar knot tightening in your stomach, making you grip Chris’s bicep harshly.

“Fuck, I’m close. Chris, please don’t stop,” you whimpered loudly, grinding down on his hand that was now running with your wetness.

“I know, I know. C’mon, finish on my fingers, baby.” he cooed again, smiling at the fucked out expression your face as he added his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

“Chris! Fuck- I’m gonna cum,” you whined right as your thighs squeezed together, clenching around him, as you finished all over his fingers. He didn’t stop until you winced from the overstimulation. Chris then withdrew his hand from you core, sticking his fingers into his mouth as he left a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You did amazing for me,” he whispered with a smile, tugging at the hem of your shirt as he pulled it off.

“Chris, what are you doing?” you asked in confusion, watching him unbuckle his own belt, right before taking off his jacket.

“What do you mean? We’re just getting started, baby,” he smirked. That stupid smirk.

That leads you here. Your legs were positioned on Chris’s shoulders, both of his hands beside your head as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he mumbled, slowly pushing himself inside of you. The stretch from Chris always burned at first. Your eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out, the both of you panting as he waited for a minute.

“This okay?” he whispered, slowly starting to rock his hips. You just nodded with a whine, grabbing him by his hair, tugging gently. “God, you feel so good, fuck-“ he moaned, picking up his pace.

“Fuck- Chris, don’t stop,” you moaned, tugging a bit harder on his hair, earning a loud groan from him.

“Please, oh fuck-“ you moaned, covering your mouth with one hand, the other resting on Chris’s shoulder He chuckled a bit from your desperation, grabbing your hand from your mouth to intertwine his fingers with yours. He started thrusting into you faster, making your jaw fall wide open again.

“Am I fucking you that good? Can’t you handle it, baby?” he mocked, looking down at you with false concern.

“I can- fuck, I can handle it,” you whimpered, feeling your legs start to tremble again. He snickered but cut himself off with a soft moan. You clenched around him, causing his head to fall back, thrusting at a faster but sloppier pace, hitting your g-spot.

“Oh shit, right there,” you whined, the knot tightening quickly once again. You turned your head to the side, moaning repeatedly.

Chris’s hand the gripped your jaw, causing you to open your eyes to find him staring down at you.

“Look at me. I want you to look me in the eyes as you cum around my cock, alright?” he smirked, thrusting hard a few times. He held a hand over your mouth as you came, trying to muffle your loud moans.

“J-just like that,” he whimpered, feeling you clench around him. “Fuck, Y/n,” he moaned, his thrusts becoming a lot sloppier now as you felt him twitch inside you, immediately reaching his orgasm when you moaned his name again.

“Oh my fucking god,” you panted, running your hand through his hair, a giggle leaving your lips, due to his squeezed shut eyes, lips slightly parted.

“Shit. You did so good for me,” Chris panted with a smile playing on his lips, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

Chris pulled out, then unexpectedly stuck a finger inside you, causing you to whine.

“Chris, what are you-?” you looked down.

“The sheets won’t get dirty like this. Plus, it’s a sight for sore eyes,” he smiled, sticking a mixture of you and his own release back into you, making you wince.

“All done,” he smiled, placing a wet, quick, kiss to you pussy, making you squirm. “I hope we didn’t fuck in front of a ghost or something,” he mumbled, holding back a laugh.

“Chris!” you laughed loudly, pulling your shirt back on. “Chris, where the fuck are my panties,” you asked, scanning the whole room for any sign of them.

“I have no idea?” he said in a mock-concern tone, shrugging as he turned to door of the hotel room. His goddamn back pocket? Seriously?

a/n: I CANNOT WRITE SMUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. i’m sorry if this sucks ass, but here you go!😇 hope it was somewhat bearable😍

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriiniie @ukiyosturniolo @m4tthewsgf @nicksmainbitch (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic

[popquizhot-shot]

absolutely obsessed with protective dad miguel omg, like if on a mission where a villains being a creep he would be so feral cause THAATS HIS DAUGHTER so joel coded

Hope you like this nonnie<3333 sorry if there’s any typos.

Tw: a creep. Panic attacks and feelings of inadequacy

"You know, of all the super-heroes I've fought, I'm going to enjoy defeating you the most." the villain grins and chokes you harder, his other hand travels down the side of your spidersuit and he pins you against a wall, "I think it's the suit."

"What is wrong with you dude?" you wheeze out.

He only punches you and his hand moves from your throat to your jaw, "Careful, girly. Or I might not be as merciful as I'm being right now."

You huff, "Yeah, sure. Okay.”

You only realise he’s being serious when his eyes turn animalistic and he grips your cheeks so your mouth is slightly open. That’s when you start to thrash around. Kicking everywhere and you manage to snag him in the balls and he doubles over.

You immediately break out into a run and let out a thwip of webs to swing above him.

Unbeknownst to you or the villain, Miguel O’Hara himself is swinging at full speed to that very alleyway because he was eyes on you.

The moment, he saw the villain acting the way he did, he decided one thing.

He was going to make him suffer.

The villain finally got to his feet and let out a breath and a groan.

He heard a sound behind him, from the dark of the alleyway and dared to turn around.

Two red eyes stared into his own.

He disappeared into the darkness as he was pulled in by garnet webs. The only thing that could be heard were shrieks of pain and the sound of bones being broken.

The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a snarl, “You will never touch anyone ever again.”

——————-

You were huddled in a corner of a balcony, hugging your knees as you replayed the memory over and over again. Every breath you took hurt and only quickened with each passing moment.

It’s not that serious you idiot what is wrong with you now he’s probably gotten away and Miguel is going to be pissed

You flinch at the sound of someone landing on the balcony. And you almost let out a sob in relief when you hear Miguel’s voice.

His head whips to where you are and his mask disintegrates. His eyes widen a little and he makes himself a bit smaller and says your name softly.

Your breathing slows a little as he breathes with you. Guiding you and his hand hesitantly brings your own away from where it’s holding your hair tightly.

“You’re okay.” His voice is soft and calm, “I’m here.”

With a hiccup you throw your hands around him, “I’m sorry, I fucked up.”

“Hey.” He pats your back soothingly, “it’s okay. I got him. The mission is over.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” Your voice breaks against his shoulder and so does his heart.

“I don’t care.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Almost.”

You pull back to look into his eyes, “sorry.”

“Shut up.never apologise. No one hurts my kid and and gets away with it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. Understand?” He cups your cheeks softly, and your face scrunches up as tears form, “oh babygirl.” He breathes out as you start to sob.

“I just.. don’t want to be a burden.” You wheeze out between sobs.

That’s when he understands it’s not just about that asshole.

“You’re not a burden, honey.” He says against your hair as you hug him again.

He shushes you as your sobs only grow.

“Hey. Hey.” He pulls you away gently to look you in the eyes, “look at me. You’re not a burden. You’re a valuable asset to this team and we’re all lucky to have you. If anyone of them even heard what you’re saying right now, they’d be shocked. And then they’d be mad. I know that this feeling won’t go away immediately, but for today, know that none of this is your fault.”

“But he could have gotten away.”

“But he didn’t.” He reassures you.

“I can’t screw up like this, Miguel.”

“You can’t blame yourself. He was being a fucking creep and you ran away. It’s alright. You’re human.” He says your name to make a point. “And that’s okay. Okay?”

You breathe heavily and nod.

“Good. Now? Do you want to takeout? We can watch Star Wars back at home.”

You flash him a small smile, “yes please.”

He smiles and takes your hand, “Come on.”

You hug him once again and shake your head against his shoulder.

“You just wiped your nose on me, didn’t you?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

You know that the suit is a hologram right?”

“So the snot is on your shoulder?”

“I swear to god.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #mini miguel<33 #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader

[caxde]

uncertainty | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you are Dustin’s older sister, and you have developed a very confussing attraction to your brother and friend's fiend, Eddie. (3.4k),

warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

this is based on this lovely ask <3 thank you for the request!

“I’m leaving in five!” You screamed up at the staircase, as you heard the hurried steps of your little brother rushing around. 

“I’ll need seven!” He shouts back, voice high in pitch. 

“Now you have four, hurry up!” You plead from downstairs, with a short laugh that escaped your lips as you could picture your little brother going absolutely insane, having overslept once again. 

“Shit, shit. Okay!” 

“Language!” You yelled as you went over the little drawer that held your car and house keys, turning around to pick up your favourite washed up brown leather jacket. Even if your mom kept babbling away about how it wasn’t really that warm, you debated the opposite, having worn it for the last 6 months. Either way it doesn’t really matter what she thinks, she’s not here to tell you anything. 

As you opened the front door you squint your eyes at the bright January sun, it was cold, but once you stood up and the light hitted you, it felt as if you were begging to warm up, waking up with the earth, in a weird poetic way. 

“Thought you were in a hurry.” Dustin teased at you as he looked up at you. 

“I am, come on.” You told him as you teased him back, pushing him a bit so he actually hurries up. “You know, if you actually went to bed when you should” You start saying as you start the car. 

“Oh come on!” He replayed in annoyance. “I did go to bed, you know?” 

“Yeah, at four in the morning!” You yelled back at him, feeling how truely tired you were. “And you know I end up incredibly tired when I have to go to The Hideout and help out Dust…” You try to make him understand. 

“You didn’t sleep?” He asks back, worry on his voice. 

“I did, just…” You looked back at his little brown eyes, true compassion for you, you knew he felt bad now. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just, if you’re talking to Suzie keep your voice low okay big guy?” Your voice calms now, feeling bad for having yelled at him. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He replayed softly as he looked down at his feet. 

The car ride stayed silent. 

As you parked the car and got out to help him as you always had, grabbing his backpack for him, and giving him a side hug you smiled at him. 

“Sorry for yelling.” He nodded and started to look out for his friends. “Pick up at five?” 

“Yeah.” He said as he started to leave. You nodded at him as he left. 

You were tired, but you didn’t actually regret helping out at The Hideout, if anything, John was doing you a favour. It was proving to be rather tricky to find another job, since you decided you would rather be full time anywhere else than half time in Family Video, though you missed hanging out with Steve so much, you kept hope. 

And anyways, yesterday ended up being a good night. 

A very good night. 

Might be the fact that he tips had run high, or that John asked you to come again today, or maybe, and if we’re being sincere, it was because Eddie had come over. Granted, it hadn’t been only him, but it didn’t matter, not if you could only see him. 

And maybe it was because your friends had waited for you to finish your shift, and had made it bearable, but again, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it had been his soft I always like seeing you that had made the night better. 

-

“You shouldn’t trust it.” Robin mocked you once again. 

“She’s got a point.” Steve continued. 

“Oh fuck off you two.” You added, still smiling at them as you did. 

“I’m just saying… I mean, you have a massive, incredible, planet sized crush on the dude, so you should know, like make it so important.” She tried to rationalize with you as her hands flew through the hair as she was talking, which only made Steve laugh even more. 

“Like you have on Vickie?” You tried to tease her back. 

“Hey! Not fair, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” She sentenced, as she threw the old kitchen rag at you as you all laughed again. 

“Oh come on, pick on Steve and his crush on Nancy!” You plead as she turned again looking back at him. 

“That was uncalled for.” He said under his breath. 

“Just stating the obvious.” You pointed as you turned around to your oven. 

As the rambling and teasing continued you checked the time once again. You weren’t that late, and still, you always felt anxious you would be. 

Saturday dinners were the only thing that had remained constant through the years, regardless of what was going on, you always found time to see each other, either for a quick sandwich or a full course dinner. 

So it felt nice to see them in your house, teasing you, as they cooked the pizzas from scratch you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of them, remembering how hellish last year had been. 

Your thoughts got interrupted by the doorbell. 

“Is it Dustin?” Robin asked as her head moved to look at you. 

“No, Dust is staying at the Wheelers.” You replayed with uncertainty in your voice. “Were you expecting someone?” You ask, looking at Steve, and you see how the corners of his lips start to curl upwards. 

“I might have invited Munson over…” A smirk appears on his face, and on yours embarrassed rosy cheeks appear.

-

The warm vapor of the tiny dishwasher hits your face, making it hard to breathe for just a second before you step back and let your hands wash the steam off your face. You take a deep breath, it’s only one more hour until close time, and then you would be free to go back home, back to your bed, and if you're honest, back to overthinking. Thankfully, The Hideout was emptying, and as usual, everyone that left said goodbye to you, and you tried to remain cheerful and respond to every one by name. 

“Henderson, we might go too.” Steve yells over the music. As you nod to him you head on to his direction, so you can actually hug him goodbye. 

“We would stay but… It’s getting pretty late, we’re sorry.” Robin adds as she hugs you too. 

“I get it, it’s alright don’t worry.” You replay as you look at both of them, smiling gratefully that they have stayed this long. 

“Actually, I think I’ll stay.” His voice fills you up, low and deep, raspy making your skin tingle. “If you don’t mind.” 

“ ‘Course not.” You add, trying to not sound as nervous as you feel looking at him, his brown eyes locked onto you. 

“O-key then.” Steve adds with a hidden laugh. “See you tomorrow?” You nod as they leave. 

You can’t help but smile as you head back into the bar, feeling his stare onto you, and not only that, but his shy smile too. 

Without even asking, you serve him another beer and he takes it, taking a sip while his eyes shine at you. A quick glance at the clock lets you know that it is now acceptable for you to start cleaning up, letting the couple tables that are still finishing their drinks know that you want to leave, and they seem to get the message once they get up a few moments later. They pay you what they owe you and leave slowly. 

You take your time to actually close the register, and once you look up, you see the long haired boy returning with the tray of empty glasses and bottles. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say in a soft whisper, feeling how your cheeks warm up as you do so. 

“I know, but you look exhausted, so…” He tilts his head as he looks down at you. “You go sit, and I’ll clean up a bit, okay?” He continues as he starts to clean the glasses and throws away the empty beer bottles. You smile as you circle back to where he was, and he smirks as he watches you do so. 

You let your body rest, for the second that it does so, you feel the tiredness catching up to you. 

It feels weird, not in a bad sense to have someone taking care of you in that way. Not by anyone, but him. Focused into doing what he has seen you do a thousand times, he even pours you a beer so you can actually relax, but to be honest with yourself, it’s not the alcohol that makes you feel fazed, but him looking at you from time to time as he gives you small smirks and giggles every time your eyes meet. You feel your whole body warming up as he does so, feeling absolutely enamored by the littlest things he does, even the way he pushes his hair away from his face makes you melt a little bit. And still, it just confuses you more and more. 

Conflicted might be a good definition. 

You are aware that you’ve fallen for him, not ashamed of it, you don’t really care if he knows, but you are scared to find out if he feels the same way about you. You can’t help but let your mind wonder, does he? Does he get as fidgety as you do when you walk into a room? Does he daydream about you in the same way that you’ve caught yourself doing so many times? Does he wish that someday your body is pressed against his as desperately as he does every time your hands meet for just a moment? Does he wonder how your lips taste? 

“You okay, love?” He asks. Once you look up to him you feel your thoughts stop all of a sudden, mesmerized by the way his eyes shine at you. It lingers in your brain. lovelovelove. How can someone look so angelic while saying such a silly word, you are not sure. 

“Yeah, I..-” You can’t find any words to continue, his hand had found its way to a wisp of hair that had fallen out of place, and even if his touch wasn’t cold, his silver rings froze at the contact with your cheek as he placed it behind your ear, were it originally was. 

It truly felt like time had frozen, no words invaded that space. For only a second, it felt like your body was weightless, it felt like if you’d cease to exist, you’d be okay doing so with this being your last memory. His eyes shining only for you, locked intensely with yours, it truly doesn't matter what would happen next if you could just remain frozen in this moment. 

But alas, that was just a wish, and time continued to pass. His touch left your skin burning, and both of your faces looked at the ground, trying to understand what that little buzzing you felt was. 

As the night advanced, the little bar was clean, and you were ready to leave, though sad might not be the best way to describe what you felt, it surely came close, feeling so calm next to him, you dreaded being separated again, still not knowing if everything you felt was unilateral. 

You closed the lights, he turned the music off, and even in shadow, his body was as defined as ever, you’d know who it was in any circumstance you noted. What you didn’t seem to see, was how his eyes could not strip away from you, or how his hands longed to touch the skin on your waist for once.

So, as you closed the back door, and flipped back to look at him, he laid it there, with the excuse of making sure you wouldn’t fall given that the floor had begun to freeze over the night. And maybe because you were so focused on the way your heart was beating fast, hard and loud, you didn’t feel that he did the same. 

“Shit.” You murmured as you looked back to the parking lot. 

“What?” He responded, his hand still resting on your back. 

“Steve drove me here! I forgot… I… Shit I guess I’ll just walk-” 

“Fuck off, I’m driving you come on.” He added as he cut you and your rumbling. 

“Edds, I live the opposite way of you…” You whisper once again, making him turn around to look at you, his breath falling onto you, watching it as the cold exposes it. 

“And I don’t care. It’s cold and you get sick easily, you're exhausted and I like being with you, so…” He begins to walk to his van, his hand finally leaving your back, only to open the car door for you. 

-

ilikebeingwithyou

it stays with you, even if it is on the back of your mind, it stays there. 

Even when you had to wait for the van to get warm enough so the engine could start, even when the music was loud and all you did was giggle as he screamed loudly the lyrics of whatever was playing in the background. 

It didn’t matter now, the van was parked and the music had stopped, and his body had turned slowly so he could look at you once again. 

And again, that weird feeling invaded the air, an electricity that seemed to pull you to him stronger and stronger. 

A flashing thought, an image of what could be, if you actually had the nerve to let your hand get lost on the back of his neck to pull him closer to you so that maybe your lips could touch his cheek in a thank you gesture, even if you don’t. 

But he does something that seems to be just as stupid. His hand finds rest on your upper thigh. 

And your eyes look at his rings in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“Thank you…” Your voice comes out soft, and slow as your eyes travel up to him. Slowly. 

“You… yeah. You’re welcome.” He’s becoming flustered now, his words tangling as he readies for you to leave, but you can’t seem to go yet. 

“What?” You asked as you smiled at him, a tired comfortable smile. 

“Nothing. I just like being with you. You make it all better I guess.” 

Your wordless. As your cheeks get warm and your lips curl upwards, your face looks through the windshield astonished at his words. 

“Do you wanna…?” 

He nods as he opens his door, rushing to yours. 

-

3 am

Time had seemed to pass quickly as you too shared the downstairs couch, at times in comfortable silence, most of the time in unimportant conversations, much preoccupied by what your heart and body was feeling. The warmth his body emanate, now wearing only a black distressed old T-shirt, that let his arm tattoos show, not only that but his muscles seem to flex from time to time, and if you hadn’t been so distracted by his charming simple while he teased you you’d realized that they did so every time your body moved closer to him, in a nervous reflex. 

Deep down you know, even if you’re not aware of it just yet, that this might be as intimate as you’ve ever been with anyone. Sex and physical intimacy had nothing against this, seeing him giggle as you talk deep into the night, whipping tears of laughter away from his eyes, as his hand rested once again on your thigh. 

Might be the late hour of the night, the dizziness from the lack of sleep or the tipsy thoughts that the beers that you had downed, but you meet his touch, lazily stroking his fingers with your hand, playing with his cold rings. When you are not looking, he lets himself be truly mesmerized by you. 

“You seem like you want to say something.” He says, voice low and soft, because let’s face it, it would be ridiculous to speak aloud when it’s only the two of you in your empty house. You feel as his face softens when your eyes look back at him. 

“I do.” 

“Then say what you need…” He encourages, slowly. 

“I’m embarrassed, actually.” You confess in a soft smile, letting your head rest on the back of the couch. His body scooches closer. 

“Oh, come on… Please, love?” lovelovelove. He knows what this stupid pet name makes you feel, you’re sure of it. 

“You confuse me. A lot.” You finally say to him, your eyes darting around his face, as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his unoccupied hand goes to his head, as his arm rests on the same back of the couch. 

“I confuse you?” He repeats in disbelief, almost sounds as he is teasing you. 

“Yeah, you do.” You admit, your fingers playing anxiously now as your sight avoids him and is instead focused on his rings. 

“Well, then… Ask.” He says confident, approaching you even more. Your body in his direction, knees touching, the grip that he has on your thigh grows deeper. 

“What?” 

“Whatever you wanna know.” 

You take a deep breath, as your hands whip your face, preparing you for the embarrassment that you most certainly will feel after you finally open up to him. 

“Do… Um…Do you like me?” 

“Wha- What?” He sounds shocked, and your face becomes red. 

“Forget it, please…” You say, a pleading look on your face as you look back at him. His face, while it is still soft, is focused on you, his eyes that are usually brown appear black as his iris has invaded the whole space, though that happens every time he looks at you, you hadn’t realized until now. 

“No, please… I… What do you mean?” 

“Shit, okay.” You breathe in, deeply, deciding for one to be brave for once, and to accept rejection if it comes to that. “I like you Eddie. I really do. Not because you are good-looking and all that physical nonsense, but because you make life brighter… I… Fuck… I’m sorry I just… I really like you and I just don’t know if this feeling goes both ways.” You admit, all in one breath, darting between his eyes, his lips parted halfway and your hands that are now under his grip, a warm touch, a spark or maybe a tingle on them. 

“You do?” He asks.

“Fuck, yes Eddie…” You admit, embarrassed and frustrated. “If you’re gonna make fun of me just… forget it okay?”

“Love.” He stops you from continuing rambling. “Why do you think I call you that?” You look back at him, shocked now. “I am in love with you. I don’t just like you. I love everything you do. The way you care so deeply about everyone, and how you would give everything you have to give to someone else just so they’re okay. I love how you look when you’re exhausted, ‘cause you get that cute smile trying to make it not obvious. I love when you get flustered, and I love when you let me take care of you ‘cause that’s all I wanna do… I…” You’re both smiling so bright it feels like you’ve just discovered what colour means. “Can I just… Can I just kiss you?” He says as his hand finally leaves his head, to approach your face. 

“Please.” You say in return. Begging to finally feel his lips onto yours. 

His fingers tuck away your hair behind your ear, letting them rest on the back of your neck. The other one remains on your leg, his hand deepens the grip that it had on it, a soft moan only from that is already escaping your mouth. He comes closer as you both close your eyes, seeing him smile before you do so. And as soon as his lips finally meet, your fingers intertwined with his, as the kiss deepens and it all feels exactly as you wished it did, soft, deep, careful at first, needy in the end. It feels like you’re both air at the other was drowning. It is sweet, and it doesn’t stop.  And it won’t stop for as long as you’re together, you finally feel as though you got your answer. He doesn’t like you, he loves you, and you can’t wait to love him back.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fluff eddie munson #imagine eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction fem!reader #henderson reader #reader insert #friends to lovers #eddie munson friends to lovers #slow burn #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson slow burn x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie x y/n

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 7

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Jin was right. As the boys were all dressed and ready to head out for the day, they definitely didn’t expect you to be standing there at the front door. Your hand was frozen mid air, as if you were going to ring the doorbell.

“Oh!” You took a step back in surprise. You had stood there for a good 5 minutes, totally unnoticed by the staff of the mansion.

“(y/n).” They all spoke, not bothering to mask their surprise as well.

“Sorry, is this a bad time? I can totally come back again and-”

“No, it’s not. Please, come in. We can talk inside.” Namjoon regained composure first, gesturing towards the inner sanctions of the house. You bowed your head respectfully and removed your shoes before walking behind them. You sat with them in the living room once again, giving you a sense of deja vu. Jungkook ordered drinks and snacks.

As the butlers and maids rushed to fix drinks and snacks, not having prepared since the owners of the house were supposed to be out working the entire day, you sat there, wringing the material of your skirt.

“Calm down.” Taehyung placed a hand on your shoulder and you visibly relaxed, just a little.

“Young masters, agashi.” The butler bowed as he placed the tray of drinks down. With a wave of his hand, Namjoon sent the staff out.

“I... I wanted to apologise, firstly.” You suddenly stood up, bowing deeply to all of them. Another unexpected action from you. The boys all looked at each other, unsure of how to act or respond.

“I’ve been selfish and insensitive. Whatever my relationship was or... wasn’t with that man, I shouldn’t have been acting so immature. Sorry.” You said, head still bowed.

“(y/n), i-tt’s fine. Let’s sit down and talk.” Jin said, going forward as you straightened up. He gestured for you to take your seat again.

“You have all lost somebody, who I am sure... is... was... very important to you. And instead of grieving, you’ve been having to chase me around and pacify me. That wasn’t fair to you.” You looked at all of them. Jimin rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze on the side.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated.

“(y/n), it’s okay, really. Stop apologising.” Hoseok said.

“Idiot. I told you not to let the words get to you.” Yoongi sat up from his leaned position on the armchair. You pursed your lips, knowing he was referring to your conversation that happened when he was at your place a few nights ago.

“What Yoongi hyung said aside, we’re glad you came, (y/n). It was also our fault for pushing you and letting things get so far. We want to apologise for that.” Namjoon said.

“Hyung-”

“Jimin.” Jin stopped the younger from interrupting their leader. Taehyung patted his best friend on the hand. A silent signal to just let it go.

“I don’t really know where to go from this. My mother, she was my world. And if she believed in me working with you, for some reason, I should try. And like you said, I’m being targeted, if this grants me safety, so be it.” You confessed.

“But I don’t know anything in business.” You added.

“I’m not going to lie, we were not expecting that. But thank you, (y/n). I would say, don’t worry. We will guide you slowly on how this words, as necessary. But I think, we should get to know one another more before we get into all that business stuff.” Namjoon spoke, the first one to recover from being stunned by your words.

“Yeah. We’re the best at what we do. Don’t care about not having the skills and whatnot.” Hoseok nodded in agreement.

“So filial piety is what moves you.” Yoongi added.

“Yes. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But I should at least give it a chance. If I don’t like it, I get closer to knowing what I really want.” You replied. Yoongi raised his eyebrows in amusement at you rephrasing his words.

“But, I... still can’t accept him as my father... I’m sorry.” You hung your head down low.

“We understand. Take your time. Fresh wounds take time to heal. Don’t force it.” Jin reached over to squeeze your shoulder.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak to me, even if I don’t deserve it. I should let you all get back to what you were doing now.” You stood up, rubbing your slightly sweaty palms on your skirt.

“First thing to learn, don’t speak of yourself as an inconvenience. If we didn’t think you’d deserved it or that you were a bother, we wouldn’t have given you the time of day. Trust me, we’re busy people.” Hoseok stopped you. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Shall I take you home?” Taehyung asked.

“Actually, can I speak to Namjoon sshi in private?” You requested meekly. The boys all paused, turning to the leader, who just remained stoic.

“Sure. Right this way. We can talk in my office.” Namjoon said. He guided you to his office. You bowed to the other 6 before rushing after Namjoon. You followed him up the stairs.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked as he closed the door behind you.

“No, thanks.” You said. He gestured for you to take a seat while he sat down in his seat, on his side of the desk.

“I-I just wanted to apologise to you... the most. Since we met, I’ve just been a horrible person. I’ve been stand offish and unfair.” You sighed.

“(y/n), (y/n). There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I understand, I’ve not exactly been the bearer of good news since I showed up at your door. Anyone would have felt and reacted the same way you did, I don’t hold any animosity or resentment. In fact, I think I’m still reeling from the shock of you being here and accepting this quickly.” Namjoon confessed.

“Well, I wouldn’t really say accept. More of... try. If my mother thought I could do it, I guess she saw something that I didn’t. Or maybe she’s just a hopeful parent, wanting her child to succeed.” You shrugged.

“But I will be safer with you all?” You asked.

“I believe so. There are guards and security in place to keep you safe. Rather than being alone in your house without any guards.” He said.

“Do we know why I am targeted yet? Like I said, I don’t know anything... My mother never really told me much about her life. I’m still finding things out now, even after her death.”

“I promise we’re trying our best to find out why you’re being targetted and by who. Although, it is probably because you’re the daughter of your father and now that he isn’t around anymore, you could be the target to attain his company.” Namjoon explained.

“I see...” You gulped.

“(y/n), even if you don’t work with us, you can still be protected by us. You don’t have to force yourself to work in the company just to be granted protection.” Namjoon assured.

“But I can’t just ask you guys to help me without anything in exchange. It is not fair and right to do that.” You said.

“Let’s be realistic here. Theoretically, if you don’t like all this or it doesn’t suit you, what will you do then?” Namjoon leaned forward on his elbows.

“I’ll sign my rights as the head of the company and my inheritance away.” You declared. Namjoon seemed to contemplate your words for a moment before nodding his head, understanding.

While you were speaking to Namjoon, the other 6 had not left the house for their scheduled meetings yet.

“When did you get so close with her, hyung?” Taehyung asked.

“We’re not close. We just had a meal and talked.” Yoongi shrugged, not giving much away.

“The one that would have the most information on her would be Jin hyung.” Hoseok pointed out. Jin didn’t react. Whatever he knew was not relevant to information that the others needed to know.Jimin rolled his eyes and walked away. Jungkook noticed and chased after his older brother.

“Hyung. You okay?” Jungkook asked as they entered the garage carpark downstairs. Jimin stopped, his back still facing the youngest.

“Do you believe her? Everything she says.” Jimin asked, leaning against the hood of his car with a bitter chuckle. He took a hit of his vape before stuffing it back into his jacket pocket.

“What’s there to believe? If she wants the work, she can work. She came here to apologise. What else?” Jungkook put his hands into his pockets, an indifferent look on his face to show that he didn’t really care.

“I don’t like her.”

“I think you have made that very clear.” Jungkook replied.

“Why are you all being so nice to her? Just because she is our boss’ daughter? We never let anything into our circle and now look. It feels like we’re falling apart trying to chase after her.” Jimin yelled in frustration.

“We’re all doing this to help Namjoon hyung. Namjoon hyung wants to make this work, not because she is our boss’ daughter but beccause it was his promise to boss before he died. He couldn’t make up with her so he wants us to do it in his stead. Besides, we haven’t really given her much of a fighting chance.” Jungkook said.

“She’s our boss’ daughter but what about us? Didn’t we all see him or regard him as our father? The way she treats him like nothing?” Jimin asked.

“But that’s not exactly her fault, hyung. Yes, he was a father figure to all 7 of us. But what about her? She was abandoned, just like all of us were by our own parents.” The younger spoke truthfully.

“I know...” Jimin stood up, blinking back his tears. He entered his car and drove off, leaving the maknae there, standing in the carpark.

“Jungkook. Why are you just standing there? Ready to go?” Hoseok came downstairs.

“Yeah...” Jungkook shook his head to regain composure. He entered the car, where Hoseok was waiting for him in the passenger seat. Starting the engine, he began to drive.

“What, Tae? Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoongi asked.

“Nothing.” Taehyung slid off the bar stool and walked out, slipping on his jacket. He headed towards the front door, where his driver was waiting for him. Jin gathered his things, tucking his iPad under his arm. Seeing the oldest ready to leave, Yoongi stood up.

“What? You reluctant to leave?” Jin teased. Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking off and leaving Jin behind. Yoongi dropped Jin off at his meeting location before heading to his own work place.

After speaking with Namjoon, he offered to drop you back home. When you came down with him, you noticed that the living room was empty.

“Must have all gone to work.” Namjoon said.

“Wow.” You couldn’t hold back your shock when you followed Namjoon down to the basement garage. There were so many expensive cars lined up, it was a lot. You followed Namjoon to one of the cars, a Bugatti.

“Watch your head.” He cautioned as he opened the passenger door for you to enter. After that, he went to the driver’s side and drove to your house.

“If you ever need help, here is my number.” Namjoon handed you a card as he dropped you off.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” You received the card with two hands. You opened the car door and walked into your house. Like the others, Namjoon waited for you to go in before driving off.

“Oh my gosh.” You sunk onto the ground, putting a hand over your racing heart. It felt like your heart was beating too fast to the point where you felt nauseous. Where did your sudden confidence come from? That you would voluntarily go down to the mansion and speak to the 7 men like that. But now, your facade could break.

RINGGGGGG

“Huh?!” You jumped in shock, fumbling for your phone.

“Oh, hey Wonwoo... Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well, that’s why I haven’t been at university. It’s mainly online work anyway.” You pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“No, you don’t need to come down. I’m fine, really. I should be better by tomorrow.” You dug through your fridge, looking for something to eat.

You’ve skipped university for three days without a note or message, which probably worried Wonwoo. But with everything else, university was the last thing on your mind. Only Wonwoo would notice your absence anyway.

“No need, I’ll just collect my work from the professors. Thanks... I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said and hung up.

Jimin didn’t know where he was driving to, he just kept driving, letting the loud roar of his car’s engine fill the air. He never liked change, he didn’t like new people, he was happy with what he had now.

The fact that his brothers are so ready to accept you was beyond him. He didn’t know what your intentions were and from his duties in Bangtan, he learnt not to trust people so easily. He has met all kinds of scum from all walks of life and he knew there was always an ulterior motive.

RINGGGGG

“Yes, Namjoon hyung?” Jimin answered.

“Are you going for the poker game tonight? The secretary minister will be there for an information trade.”

“Right... I forgot about the game tonight... Since there’s an information trade, I’ll go. Jungkook and Jin hyung won’t be able to go in my stead. Let me know where tonight’s game is later.” He replied.

“Alright, I will prepare the address and ask Jin hyung for the information packet to hand over.”

Jimin possessed a combination of Jin’s card game skills and Taehyung’s deception skills, which made him the best person to play these low profile, high stakes games. He knew how to read the players and the game.

“Boss.” The staff greeted Jimin when he walked in.

“How’s business been?” He asked as he inspected the space and the bar. He hasn’t been checking in on the businesses since Namjoon told him to take a break so he was using this time to ensure that operations were still running smoothly. The manager made Jimin a drink and handed him the money from the previous nights of work.

“Not bad...” Jimin commented as he counted the money on the bar counter. Clubs were the best place to earn money.

“Here. Take everyone out for a good dinner. For working hard despite my absence.” He handed the manager $1000 from the stack. The manager’s eyes widened as he received the money.

“T-Thank you boss!” Everyone bowed deeply.

“Continue to work hard.” Jimin said as he put the remaining money into his pocket and left. There were still other places of business to visit.

After he was done with his inspections, Jimin needed to head home to get ready. He picked out a nice suit, one that was more opulent than what he would wear for work.

“Jimin?” He heard Hoseok’s voice outside his door as he was doing his hair.

“Come in.” He replied, not turning away from the mirror. The older came in with a few boxes and placed them on the dresser.

“Here, your order came in. Just in time, I’m guessing.” Hoseok informed. Jimin put the hairdryer down and looked through the boxes. He pinned the rose diamond brooch to the collar of his suit jacket and picked out other accessories to wear tonight.

“Could you help me put the rest of them in my closet?” Jimin requested. Hoseok nodded and put the rest into Jimin’s already full closet. He sat down on the couch Jimin had in his room.

“What?” Jimin stopped, turning around to look at the other.

“You good?” Hoseok asked. Jimin shrugged but nodded his head, facing the mirror again. He fixed his earrings in place.

“I know you’re here to talk to me about (y/n). There’s nothing to talk about, I don’t have anything else to say.” Jimin said, going into his closet to retrieve his shoes, deciding to go with his chelsea boots that had a small heel.

“Okay. But Chim, don’t feel like we’re against you or suddenly on her side against yours, alright?”

“Mhmm.” Jimin hummed. He stood up as he was done getting ready. Hoseok followed him out of the room and Jimin locked his room doors.

“Good luck tonight.” Hoseok wished.

“You know I always win.” Jimin smirked. Now, he needed to find Jin to get his information for the trade tonight. When he arrived at his door, there was a note and a thumbdrive taped to the wood.

‘Sleeping, do not disturb. To Jimin, this is what you need. - Jin’

Jimin tilted his head but removed the thumbdrive, peeling off the tape. He slipped the small item into his jacket pocket and went to find Namjoon. The leader was in his office, on the phone with someone. Seeing Jimin poke his head in, he waved for him to come over and slid a folder over to him. It had some information and a picture of Jimin’s target for the night.

“I’m going now.” Jimin said and Namjoon nodded, giving him a thumbs up as he listened to whoever was on the other side of the phone.

“Young master Jimin, the car is ready for you.” The butler informed. Jimin walked out and the chauffeur opened the door for him. Since it was expected of him to drink, Jimin never drove.

With the address, Jimin watched as the car entered a residential area. It stopped before a rundown fishing shop.

“A fishing and tackle shop? Seriously?” Jimin scoffed as he wore his sunglasses. The chauffeur opened the car door for him to come out. He pushed open the shop door to enter but the cashier paid him no mind.

“Right this way.” An employee led Jimin to the back, opening a door that led to the basement.

“Welcome, Mr Park.” A more well-dressed hostress greeted him.

“Can I take your jacket?” She asked.

“I’ll hold onto it. My drink is rum, on the rocks.” Jimin informed. She nodded with a bow and led Jimin further in. She opened a door where Jimin saw the game already running. He went to the bar first.

“Rum on the rocks.” The bartender placed his drink onto the black marble counter top.

“Mr Park. Glad you could make it tonight.”

“Secretary minister. Of course, I wouldn’t miss a game organised by you.” Jimin planted on his fake smile as he shook hands with the secretary minister. He was the organiser of this underground game, all a ruse for him to exchange information with Bangtan.

“I look forward to seeing you play tonight.” The old man smiled. Jimin just nodded his head. After that, he walked away. Jimin scanned the room from his position at the bar, there were many notable politicians and celebrities.

“Here.” Jimin handed a tip to the bartender, taking his glass to the table.

Everyone was focused on the game. No one noticed the note taped to the bottom of Jimin’s glass or the thumbdrive wrapped in the tip bills Jimin handed to the bartender.

Tonight was going to be a good night to play.

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #bts #bts scenarios #bts series #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #poly!bts #poly bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #mafia #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia bts #bts mafia #ot7!bts #ot7 #ot7 bts #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

hii, i love yours stories

I would like to make a request. melissa/reader.

Where the reader is in a toxic relationship with a guy, but she and Melissa are visibly in love with each other, but only they don't see it.

The reader had tried to break up with him many times but never succeeded, so one day Melissa decides to work it out.

That's it, thank you, I hope you understood♡

Thank you! So kind of you to ask for more of my writing (I know I've said it before but it will never not surprise me!)

Okay...so I hope I understood what you were looking for? This took me a while and wasn't an easy write, but I hope it comes close to what you were hoping for!

~*~

Melissa isn’t trying to eavesdrop.  She’s actively trying not to, actually, but when she hears the strained tone to your voice, she can’t just walk away.  She’s seen you with your guy before.  Seen the way he treats you, always wanting you at his beck and call, too busy spouting off his own opinions to listen to anything you ever had to say.  To say she’s never liked him would be an understatement.

“I just…I don’t like who I am when I’m with you,” you say honestly, your gaze firmly fixed on your feet.  You don’t dare look up.  You know he’s not going to like those words.  You hadn’t asked for him to come here today.  But then again you hadn’t messaged to say you were staying late to set up a few things for your lessons on Monday, so his appearance shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“But I like who you are with me.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath.  “That’s not the same thing,” you breathe, shaking your head.

“So what are you saying?”

There’s a hardness to his tone that scares you.  You’ve been here before.  You’ve had this conversation before.  You can’t have it again.  You need to do this.  To see it through.  “I’m saying I’m done.”

“We’re not done!”

You look up at his raised voice in time to see him reach out to grab your arm.  The next thing you see is a blaze of red.  Melissa, you realise.

“Hey!” she snaps, coming to stand by you, a half step ahead so you’re partially hidden behind her shoulder.  “She’s saying she’s done, so you’re done.  You wanna walk away now.”

“Or what?”

At the threat in his tone Melissa steps fully in front of you, creating a physical barrier between you and him.  “You don’t want me to answer that.”

He scoffs, shaking his head.  “You’re gonna regret this,” he snarls at you over the red head’s shoulder before storming off across the car park. 

You watch him go, the car door slamming behind him before he takes off with enough speed to leave tyre marks.  You don’t realise you’re trembling until Melissa places a gentle hand on your arm.  Turning to look at her, you find your vision slightly blurred by the tears in your eyes.  “Sorry,” you manage in a whisper.  “I didn’t mean to make such a scene.  I just...I wanted out.”

The red head gently guides you into her arms, holding you firmly against her as your breath comes in stuttered hiccups.  “He’s gone,” she says softly, her hands rubbing up and down your back.  “You’re safe.”

She must feel you stiffen in her arms, as she pulls back, looking at you with concern.

“What if he tries to come over,” you admit.  You want to believe her words.  That he’s really gone and that you’re safe, but you know it’s not that simple.  Not with him.

“He got keys to your place?” she asks, a frown developing on her features as you nod.  “Okay, then the first thing we do is go get those locks changed, then you pick up some stuff and you stay at my place tonight.”

You immediately shake your head.  “No, I can’t ask that.”

“You’re not askin’,” she says softly, her hands rubbing up and down your arms.  “I’m tellin’ ya,” she smiles.  “Come on, I’ll drive.”

You feel like such an incapable idiot.  You can’t even break up with your shitty boyfriend on your own and now she’s helping you clear up the mess you’ve made.  The hand that takes your own feels too much like a lifeline to let go, though. 

You keep trying to apologise on the drive over to your apartment, but Melissa is having none of it.  She tells you there is nothing to apologise for, but you’re pretty sure she has better things to be doing than sorting out your mess.  Still, she acts as if it’s nothing as she calls a locksmith, waiting with you while he changes the locks.  She waves off your attempt to pay the guy, telling you he owed her a favour anyway.

There’s a huge part of you that wants to tell her that she’s done enough.  That everything she’s already done is too much, even.  The other part of you, the selfish part, you fear, however, doesn’t want to be here if he comes back.  With the locks changed you know he can’t get in, but you also know how persistent he can be. 

As you disappear into your bedroom to pack a bag, Melissa finds herself restless.  She doesn’t want to snoop, but she figures she’s allowed to wander through to your kitchen.  She frowns as her eyes land on the photos on your fridge.  There are plenty of them, some clearly of you and your friends and family.  There are a few too many, however, for her liking of the asshole from the car park.  Glancing over her shoulder to make sure you’re still busy, she quickly removes those from the fridge, tossing them into the trash. 

Pleased with her work, she returns to the living room, her eyes scanning for any more pictures she might need to get rid of.  The pictures she finds here, however, are all in frames and it seems more time and thought has gone into choosing them.  She finds herself smiling as she takes in the images of places you’ve visited, pets you’ve clearly loved, friends you look happy and comfortable with, family gatherings, and to her surprise, a recent photograph of the two of you.

The last staff night out, she realises, recognising her outfit.  You’re grinning at her as she looks to the camera that she’s clearly holding.  You look happy, she thinks.  Happier than you did in the photos with him. 

*

“You hungry?”

You shake your head.  You don’t think you could stomach anything right now.  That and you don’t want her to go to any more trouble than she already has. 

Melissa pauses for a moment.  She’s heard your stomach growling so he knows you’re lying. “Well I could do with something, so I’m just gonna put a few bits together.”

It’s when she’s in the kitchen that your phone starts ringing.  You know without looking it’s going to be him.  You ignore it.  And the next one.  And the one after that.  When your phone rings again, you turn it to silent. 

You don’t want to speak to him.  You know if you do he’ll only either be angry or try to persuade you you’ve made the wrong decision. A few moments later your phone screen as it lights up with another call.  You look away from the screen, taking a moment to appreciate the soft sounds of Melissa moving around in her kitchen.  To be thankful for the fact that you’re not home at your apartment where he’s probably making a scene and hammering on the door. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Melissa is making quick work of putting together a plate of nibbles she hopes she can entice you to share.  She jumps when her phone rings, cursing as she sees Barb’s name flash up on the display.  She had meant to call to cancel her plans with the other woman at your apartment.

Barb, ever gracious, quickly accepts the red head’s apology, reassuring her that she had barely even begun to get ready.  There were always other evenings. 

“Yeah, shit went down in the car park,” offers by way of an explanation.  “That guy she’s been seeing was outside waiting for her.  She finally broke it off with him.  Well, sorta, with a little help.”

“Let me guess,” says Barb, the smirk audible down the phone line.  “You were the knight to her damsel in distress?”

“What?” scoffs Melissa.  “No!  I just did what anyone would do.”

The older woman lets it drop.  “Well, I’m glad you did.  I never did like that man, or the way he treated her.”

“Yeah, me neither,” grumbles Melissa.  “Good riddance to him.  Anyway, she’s staying here tonight.  She didn’t want to be at home in case he came over.”

“Schemmenti to the rescue,” smiles Barb. 

“What was I meant to do?  Let her stay at her apartment terrified he was gonna come kick the door in?”

“Like you ever would,” says the Kindergarten teacher softly.  “I hope she’s okay.”

“She will be,” nods Melissa, her tone certain, even as she looks through the open doorway to see you sitting with a sullen expression.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

There’s something in Barb’s tone that makes Melissa blush.  “Anyway,” she says quickly.  “I’m in the middle of putting together something to eat.  I’ll call soon though, we can rearrange?” 

Quickly ending the call she tucks her phone away and picks up the plate she’s made.  It’s nothing fancy, just tasty little bits and pieces she hopes you might find the appetite to pick away at.  Entering the living room, she finds you with your phone in your hand, a male voice blaring through the speaker even though it’s clear you haven’t set the device to speakerphone. 

“Maybe we’d still be a thing if you weren’t so in love with fucking Jolene!  You know what?  I hope the two of you are fucking happy together, you little bitch!  Better off without you!”

You knew he’d be vicious.  There’s probably worse to come.  You sniffle, wiping at the tears in your eyes.

“You okay, hon?” asks Melissa as she sits on the sofa next to you, placing the plate on the table. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly.  “I’m not even sad,” you admit.  “Just…angry it took so long.  That it took you being involved.”  Letting out a long sigh, you turn to the red head.  “I guess you heard that, huh?”

“Kinda hard not to,” she shrugs.

“He used to call you Jolene.”

That takes a moment to sink in.  For both of you.

“I’m never going to be able to pay you back for this,” you say finally.  “All of it. Any of it.  Breaking up with him when it’s all I’ve wanted to do for months.  I kept trying but I just…I couldn’t…I wanted out and I just couldn’t make it happen.  Thank you for helping make it happen.  For making me feel safe.”

You don’t resist as she slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.  “You don’t need to thank me.  I’m just glad I was there to help send that idiot packing.”

*

“Nope!”

“But-“

“Not a chance!”

You sigh.  You’d asked Melissa to take your phone the night before, not wanting to succumb to a moment of weakness and reply to one of his increasingly saccharine messages.  He’d moved on from the angry voicemails around midnight.  She was now refusing to give you it back.  It was perhaps not surprising now she knew what she knew. 

You hadn’t really told anyone the truth of your relationship.  Had been too embarrassed.  Too scared he’d find out and punish you for it.  Tucked into Melissa’s side, however, her arm wrapped around you, you’d finally found the courage to admit it out loud.  She had stayed silent, held you close and when you were done, calmly told you that if he ever came within six feet of you ever again he was a dead man.  Apparently some crimes were worth the time.

“You know you really should password protect this thing.”

Looking up you see her waving your phone in her hand, a devilish smirk on her face.  “You didn’t!”  You’re not entirely sure what there was to find on your phone, but it made your cheeks flame scarlet regardless.

She doesn’t reply for a moment, instead devoting her attention to flipping a pancake.  “I didn’t.  Not really…I just deleted all his messages and voicemails.  Oh, and blocked his number.  And gave you a better screensaver.” 

You watch as she places your phone on the counter in front of you, her hand still holding the device. 

“We’re still going out and getting you a new number today,” she tells you.  “But I’m sure you have other people worried about you so…”  She lets go of your phone, turning back to the stove.  “You try to message him though and I swear I’m throwing that thing in the blender.”

Tapping the screen, you can’t help but smile as Melissa’s face greets you, blowing you a kiss from the screen.  A huge improvement on the awkward selfie of you and him he’d always complain if you changed. 

*

“I’m telling you, it looks great,” grins Melissa from across the table.  “You look amazing!”

It seemed the red head was intent on keeping a blush on your cheeks permanently.  She’d barely left your side the whole day and your smile had barely left your lips as a result. 

Looking down at the new dress you’d bought today in celebration of your newfound freedom, you let yourself believe her words.  It’s something he’d never have let you wear.  You love it. 

*

You lie in bed that night in Melissa’s spare room, the smile still on your face.  You could barely recall the last time you’d had quite so much fun.  Saturday plans were not usually yours to make.  After working all week, he had always wanted you to spend the day with him.  Inevitably, this meant doing precisely what he wanted.  Today, however, the red head had insisted you were to choose. 

You’d never quite realised how little freedom you’d had before Melissa set you free. 

*

“Fancy meeting you two here.”

You turn at the familiar voice, smiling up at Barb.  After Melissa had made you breakfast the day before you had insisted on taking her out today in thanks.  She had protested that no such thank you was required, but after much pouting and puppy dog eyes you had managed to persuade her. 

“Hey!” smiles Melissa.  “I didn’t realise you’d be here.  You should come and sit.”

“Oh no!” Barb shakes her head.  “I wouldn’t want to interrupt.  I’m just here picking up a little treat for Gerald and I.  We’re going on a little drive, get out of the city for a while.”

“You’d hardly be interrupting!” you reassure her. 

“Yeah, go get Ger,” agrees Melissa.

Barb holds up her hands.  “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I already ordered to go.  Besides, you should enjoy this,” she smiles, gesturing at the two of you. 

She looks up as the server calls her order.  “That’ll be me.  I’ll see you both tomorrow!”

You both watch as she collects her order and leaves with an odd little wave at the two of you. 

“I don’t know what she thinks she’s interrupting,” you shrug.  “It’s breakfast.”

Melissa shakes her head.  “Honestly, she’s too polite for her own good sometimes.”

*

By the time Monday morning rolls around it almost feels normal to share your morning routine with Melissa.  It’s not that you weren’t friends before the events of Friday, but spending a solid 48 in her company, it’s served to make you more comfortable in each other’s presence than you ever were before.  There’s a deeper understanding, an ease in each other’s personal space. 

After checking your car is indeed still in the car park, and that it remains intact, you both walk to the break room.  You’ve barely had a chance to make a cup of tea before Ava comes charging in the door.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” you ask. 

“Yeah, what’s got you in so early?”

“Well somebody gotta clear this up,” she exclaims, gesturing between you and Melissa.  “Because I am hearing things.  Girl, you were single for all of ten minutes?”

“What?” you ask, frowning.  “No.  I am single,” you tell her, pleased with the fact.  “Have been since Friday after school.”

“So you?” asks Ava, gesturing at the red head.

Melissa shrugs.  “I was just there.  Helped sort a few things out, made sure she wasn’t moping around in her apartment all weekend in case he came over.”

“So when Janine saw you two out for dinner you weren’t flirting?”

You and Melissa frown at each other, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Ava.  Neither of you even realised Janine had seen you out for dinner, never mind understand how she’s been able to apparently tell everyone before the bell has even rung.

“Girl, from what I heard you were dressed to kill, and you,” she turns to Melissa.  “Were dying for a piece of it.”

“So I paid her a compliment?” says Melissa.  “You would too if you saw her!”

*

“Hey.”

You look up to find Melissa leaning in the doorway of your classroom.  “Hey you,” you smile.  “What’s up?”

“Funny thing,” she says, slowly making her way to your desks, her hands tucked in her pockets.  “I keep hearing from people that apparently we’re in love with each other.”

She doesn’t look repulsed by the idea.  “Yeah, I heard that rumour too.”  You’d been hearing it all day, in fact.  It had come to light that there was a rather gossipy group chat that neither you nor Melissa were part of, and yet seemed to be the subject of more frequently than either of you could have guessed. 

Standing in front of your desk, she shrugs.  “You maybe wanna, I don’t know, grab dinner?”  She plucks up the courage to look up at you, the apprehension on her face clear.  “Maybe you could wear that dress again?  And I’ll try more than a friendly compliment?”

You feel the blush creep up your cheeks, aware you’re grinning like an idiot, your heart hammering in your chest.  “That…sounds great,” you finally manage.  You want to say more, but your brain can’t seem to organise the thoughts in your head enough to let your tongue put them into words.  Instead, you gaze up at her in wonder.    

“You know, I usually think this lot are a buncha idiots.  But maybe they got this one right?”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

[mountttmase]

An Unexpected Visitor

Note - so this is my first fic, just testing the waters to see how it goes 🙈 please don’t hate me if it’s bad

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - a little bit of angst, a lotta bit of smut

‘Anything you want to share with the class?’ Your boss joked, catching you with your phone in your hand halfway through a very important meeting. Your face flushed out of embarrassment and also what you’d just seen on your phone.

‘Oh sorry’ you apologised, stuttering as now all eyes were on you. ‘I’m expecting a call from a client I thought it was them’ you lied before putting your phone in your pocket. Thankfully the messages had seemed to of stopped coming through now so you could try and forget what just happened and concentrate on the rest of what was being said.

Fifteen minutes later you were all released and you were the first one out the room, wanting to get back to the safety of your office as soon as possible. You were stopped in your tracks though by your PA Kim, greeting you with a huge smile. She was twice your age so like a mother to you and even in the mood you were in right now you couldn’t take it out on her.

‘Oh y/n, a Mason Mount turned up saying he had an appointment with you? i couldnt see anything in your diary but he assured me it was meant to be going ahead so I told him he could wait in your office’ she told you. Of course he was here and of course he’d managed to charm the pants off her too in order to get into your office but the way you were feeling right you didn’t want to look at him.

‘Thanks Kim, it’s okay I was expecting him’ you smiled, putting on a fake happy expression as not to arouse suspicion and she just nodded at you before returning to her desk.

You could see him as you approached the door through the little window and he was sat in your seat behind your desk, playing with newtons cradle you kept on there for show and you took a deep breath before entering. You faced away from him at first, pulling the shutter against the window closed so no one would be able to see you both and quietly locking the door. When you turned round he was looking at you with his usual cheeky smirk, but you could see from where you were stood that his eyes were dark, letting you know what mood he was in straight away.

‘Are you serious, Mason? Sending me nudes while I’m in a meeting?’

‘Oh, we’re using my full name huh? Wow I must be in trouble’ he laughed, but you were struggling to see the funny side at the moment. He caught on straight away when you didn’t laugh with him but he still kept that cheeky look on his face. ‘Come on baby, it was only a joke’

‘No Mason. You sent five in a bloody row I thought there was something wrong the way you kept messaging, only for me to open them up in a room full of men who barely take me seriously as it is’

‘Well you shouldn’t have left me in bed on my own this morning then when you know I wanted to fuck you’ he shrugged, speaking as if he was talking about the most mundane thing. You knew he was extra horny this morning for no apparent reason so you made sure to dress extra sexy in your right black bodycon dress. It came to your knees but there was a huge slit up the back giving mason a flash of your thighs every time you took a step. This was all in hopes of teasing him a bit, making sure he would be thinking about you all day before you would give him what he wanted when you got home, but you should of known Mason wouldn’t be able to wait.

The fact he was sat there, legs spread wide, hands on his thighs and the stupid grin still on his face made you even more furious. Clearly he was in a teasing mood today, only made more obvious by the way he looked you up and down whilst licking his lips slowly in order to try and seduce you.

If you didn’t know he was turned on by the way he was looking at you, the growing tent in his grey joggers made it even more obvious. A strange choice of his to wear out in public when he was feeling the way he was, or maybe he just wanted to make sure you knew.

‘You have no idea how sexy you are to me right now’ he told you in a low voice and your nostrils flared as you let out a short breath. You had to admit you were a little turned on yourself seeing him like this, but given the inappropriate setting you pushed that to the back of your head.

‘You’re in my seat’ you told him crossing your arms and he raised his eyebrows at you before standing up from behind your desk and making his way over you you. He stopped right in front of you, his hands on your waist and his breath fanning over your face. You refused to touch him back but you couldn’t help looking up into his lust filled eyes.

‘Go on, tell me off again. The way I’m feeling right now you might not even have to touch me to make me cum’ he whispered against your lips. You scoffed, pulling out of his hold and moving to sit in your seat.

‘Why are you here, Mase? What do you want?’ You questioned him as he took up the seat on the other side of your desk. He sat back in the same position he was in before and you briefly glanced down at the bulge in his boxers before you met his eyes again.

‘I think you know what I want’

‘You can’t be serious? I’m at work you idiot’ you scolded him and he winked at you in response. ‘Fuck you’ you breathed, a slight chuckle falling from your lips at his brazenness, before you unlocked your laptop to check your emails

‘That a threat or a promise?’ He enquired but you just ignored him, glancing over your screen before standing up to find a file on the other side of the room.

You heard him get up and follow you over but you made no effort of talk to him or move out the way when he brushed up behind you. The feel of him hard against your bum made your tummy flip but you were determined not to let him get to you. He knew exactly how to push your buttons though and when his lips landed on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all over it, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes.

‘You seem tense baby, come on let me help you relax’ he whispered in your ear, his hands on you hips now pulling you tighter against him and it took all your willpower not to react. He could tell you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking though so carried on kissing and sucking all the bits of skin he could reach.

‘We really shouldn’t be doing this’ you whispered, your mind no longer thinking about the file you were looking for.

‘You want me to stop?’ He asked, knowing if you told him to he would. He knew how to push the boundaries sometimes but he also knew when to back off if you really didn’t want it. This could have been one of those times but between the pictures he’s sent you earlier, his lips on your neck and the feeling of him against you sent you into a spin. Your normal morals flying out the window and all you wanted was the feeling of him inside you.

‘No, don’t stop’ you told him, and you felt him smile against your neck before detaching himself from you. He pulled you by your hand to turn you around, finally planting his lips on yours in a slow but heavy kiss.

‘Go bend over you desk for me’ he told you quietly, and you were about to protest but he cut you off with another kiss. ‘You’re lucky I’m not about to fuck you against the window, show everyone how well you take me’ he growled, nodding over to the floor the ceiling window in your office. You were high up enough so no one would be able to see you even he did want to do that, but the words made you shiver in fear. ‘So go bend over your desk. I won’t ask again’

You slowly walked over, clearing a little space but you didn’t bend over for him like he asked. Instead, you pulled your dress up so it bunched up around your hips and sat yourself on the desk with your legs dangling over the edge, trying to take some power back from him.

‘You forget Mason, we’re in my office so I make the rules’ you told him, slowly spreading your legs so he could get a peek at your underwear and his eyes shot down to look there immediately.

He slowly walked towards you, his hands grabbing the sides of your underwear as soon as he could reach, pulling them down your legs before getting down onto his knees, his head between your thighs. ‘Yes ma’am’ he winked and you leaned back with a smirk so he could have better access to your core. He propped your legs on his shoulders his arms reaching round to rest on your hips and he wasted no time before burring his face into you.

You knew you had to be quiet, but you couldn’t help the loud moans that came from you, you never could when he was working away down there. He pulled back after a particularly loud grunt came from you and you looked down at him with furrowed brows.

‘You need to be quiet for me baby’ he muttered ‘if we caught caught then I’m blaming you’ but he gave you no time to reply, ducking back down to repeat his actions from before. You tried your best to stay quiet but were getting closer to the finish line with every stroke of his tongue and he must of known you were close as he pulled off from you just as you were about to cum.

‘What the hell, Mason?’ You moaned but you turned silent when you saw the look in his eyes, staring down at you hungrily and you wished you could of taken the words back.

‘Payback’ he breathed, wiping his mouth with the cuff of his hoodie before pulling you up to stand and facing you away from him. ‘When I tell you to bend over, you bend over. No questions asked’ he told you, pushing on your back to force you over your desk and moving your legs apart slightly. ‘You’re lucky I need to cum myself cause otherwise I would have made you suffer a lot worse’ He told you and within the next second he thrust into you without any warning before wrapping your hair in his hand and pulling you up. You kept yourself balanced by holding you palms flat to the table but he was pounding into you so hard you could feel the table start to move.

‘So worried about what them lot out there think about you, if only they could see you now’ he said quietly and you bit your lip to stop any moans. ‘I bet you’d love to put on a show for them, show them what a good girl you can be?’

You whimpered in response and he fucked into you harder, your arms almost giving up on you but you managed to keep yourself up, even with mason going at you with this relentless pace.

‘You have no fucking idea what you do to me. Seeing you leave every morning in all your tight little outfits, knowing you’re off to boss people about. You’re so fucking sexy and you don’t even try’ he slowed down ever so slightly so he could lift one of your legs up onto the desk, letting him drive deeper into you and you both moaned out in unison over the new feeling.

He knew you were close by the way you fluttered around him so he sped up his actions, pulling you up to him fully so he could whisper in your ear. ‘you gonna cum for me?’ He questioned and you breathed out a quiet yes as he sucked on your skin. ‘Good girl, go on then’ he growled and a few seconds later you came over him, his hand over your mouth to silence your cries but the sound and feel of you bought on his own release. He thrust into you until he was spent, reaching over to the box of tissues you kept on your desk and grabbing a handful before pulling himself from you.

You could feel him trying to clean you up so you didn’t have any stains down your dress and you hissed at the contact.

‘Shit, sorry baby. Two seconds and I’m done yeah’ he told you, moving from behind you to pick your underwear up, handing them back over to you with a sheepish grin. He helped you put them back on, dropping a soft kiss on your lips when you were all sorted and you couldn’t help but smile. He was a pain in the arse but he was yours. ‘You okay?’ His whispered, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again, rocking you from side to side.

‘Yeah, but next time you come here for a ‘meeting’ Mase, make sure you wear something a bit nicer so it’s more believable. Can’t having you turning up here in a tracksuit and expecting people to believe you’re a client of mine’

‘So I’m allowed back then?’ He smiled, his hands moving further down to pinch your bum and you nuzzled into his neck.

‘Not for a while no’ you scolded him but he just laughed and kissed your cheek. ‘Come on, you better go before people get suspicious. I’ll walk you out’ you said to him and with one final kiss you parted from each other, quietly unlocking your door and walking him over to the main reception. You could feel eyes on you, but from your quick glance around you could see it was just because Mason was in the room, not anyone realising what had taken place behind your office door.

‘Thank you for your time, Miss y/l/n. I’ll be in contact again soon’ he told you, stopping to face you and outstretching his hand for you to shake. You cottoned after a second or two, following his lead and shook his hand whilst giving him a smile.

‘You’re welcome Mr Mount. You’ve got my contact details so please feel free to get in touch if you need anything’

‘Oh I plan to’ he whispered, only loud enough for you to hear, before letting go of your hand and walking out of the building.

‘Was that Mason Mount?’ You heard from behind you, turning to see your boss who’d caught you on your phone earlier walking towards you.

‘Uh yes, the client i mentioned before, that’s him. He just popped by to ask a few questions’ you gulped, hoping he would buy what you were telling him and thankfully for you he did.

‘I’m impressed’ he nodded and you let out a little breath of relief. ‘Productive meeting I take it?’

‘I’d say so, yeah’

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount fanfic #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #mason mount imagine

[wetsnifflesneeze]

F/F STORY

Girlfriends! Cold! Caretaking! That sums it up.

Btw, I’m really not a writer. I don’t even have a title for this.

……………………………………………………………………….

Although she did have allergies she could tell by the afternoon that this was more serious, her temples and head were starting to ache and she just felt exhausted. So it was a cold. I can handle it, no big deal she thought. Although she did feel slightly deflated about it since she was visiting her girlfriend tonight. It felt overdramatic to cancel because of a cold. As the day went on the minor headache got worse until just about everything was hurting. It was definitely too late to cancel now, she was already on the way to Harper’s house. She sighed, walking through the crisp air wishing she could be feeling better. She blows her nose before texting Harper she’s outside, hoping she might be able to hide her cold for at least the first while.

Harper opens the door with a big smile, kisses her, and pulls her inside. “Come in love, it’s freezing out”

“Yeah, it is” Bella agreed, she cringed slightly at her voice still sounding a bit congested despite the fact she’d just blown her nose. The warm air in Harper’s house was already making her irritated nose tickle. “Huh.. hh.. NNgTSSHHHOO” an absolutely futile attempt at stifling, she was still in Harper’s embrace but managed to turn away slightly and sneeze towards her shoulder. She had to sniffle deeply afterwards, her nose as congested as ever already.

“Awww bless you baby, did you catch a cold?”

“Yeah.. *Sniffle* it was fine this morning but, I really don’t feel good now.. m’sorry I sneezed on you” she added shyly, blushing a bit. She sniffled miserably, quickly realising there was no use in trying to hide how she felt. Her cold was far too obvious already.

Harper gently cupped her cheeks in her hands as well as feeling her forehead, she pouted and made a sympathetic noise. “Oh darling, you should have told me you weren’t feeling well” she says, her voice laden with sympathy but Bella in her self conscious state somehow misinterpreted it.

“Uhm yeah sorry I probably shouldn’t have come over *sniff*”

“No silly, I don’t mean like that. I’m a pharmacist I could’ve just grabbed you some medicine before I left work. I always want you to come over.”

“Oh! right” Bella smiled dumbly “I honestly didn’t even think of that.”

Harper knew Bella came from a less than empathetic family so it did make some sense to her why Bella would’ve tried to pretend she was fine.

“Well, we’re here now and I do have some paracetamol we can use for your fever. Just make yourself comfy on the couch okay darling, I’ll be right back”

“Okay *sniffle* umm Harper could we light the fire? I feel really cold.”

“Of course we can, and by WE I just mean me, I don’t want you to do anything except rest.”

Bella flopped down onto the couch straight away, instantly sinking into the comfort. She felt so weak but she knew she could just rest now and her girlfriend would take care of her.

Harper took in the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the couch. She was pale and still shivering a little bit. Her caretaking instincts took over immediately. Tonight was no longer for drinking wine together and doing other things she had planned. Bella’s breath gets shaky and she takes hurriedly takes out a tissue from her pocket, which clearly had been used too many times already, she held it all balled up to her nose and it did nothing to contain the “hehTSSSSHOOO!” that tumbled out. Harper just smiled fondly, she somehow looked incredibly cute.

“Bless you sweetheart, here I got you some tissues.” She takes one out of the box and hands it to the younger girl.

Bella took the tissue and blew her nose as politely as she could manage before putting the tissue back beside her on the couch. “Sorry, disgusting.” She said, using as few words possible.

“Don’t apologise sweetheart, and you’re not being disgusting at all, not in the slightest.” She gently rubbed the sick girls back in reassurance. “Here, I brought you something more comfortable to wear” she produced a hoodie, very thick and warm. It seemed almost new. “Oh, thanks” Bella slowly got up into a sitting position wincing as she did so. If she had any energy she would’ve argued that the hoodie was too nice just for her to get her snot and germs all over it. But she submissively allowed Harper to help her put it on. Her girlfriend covered her over with a blanket afterward.

“Okay that’s better. Poor baby, I know everything hurts right now. Here, take these painkillers they should help you in a bit. I’m sorry it’s not going to be instant but just hang on for a while okay, try to get some sleep” she gently stokes her face and kisses her forehead and lips. “Kay.” The weak monosyllabic response told Harper everything she needed to know about how the sick girl was feeling. She fell asleep feeling the older woman’s hands slowly massaging her head where it hurt, and her shoulders and back.

While Bella slept Harper ordered them some food including her usual favourite but just some chicken ramen for Bella. Much blander than what she usually preferred to eat but this wasn’t a usual night.

Bella woke up a couple hours later after Harper shifted on the couch to get their food. She was a bit disoriented at first, they had been dating for a few months but she wasn’t particularly used to waking up from a deep sleep on this couch. She shivered and whined a bit. Everything was still hurting. Almost instantly after waking up her nose started running again, she grabbed a tissue before it got down to her lips, as soon as the tissue touched her nose it started to tickle “TSSSHHHH”

She was just about to remove the tissue from her face when she glanced up as Harper got back with their food. “Hi sleepyhead” she smiled at her indulgently.

“Hey” Bella replied quietly. Still sounding sleepy and dazed.

“How was your nap?” Harper asked as she sat down on the couch and guided Bella into her lap.

“Good, I really needed that”

“Yeah? Are you feeling a little better?” Harper inquired, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Honestly no” Bella shook her head. She shivered a little, proving she still had a fever.

“Poor little thing, this cold seems pretty nasty huh?”

“AIIISSSSHHHOO… Mhmm” Bella equally agreed and moaned at the same time.

“I’m so sorry love, I thought you’d feel better after a little nap.”

“KSSTTTTTCCIEW… ugh… nDot your fault.” Bella replied, kind of unsure what to say. She really wasn’t used to anyone feeling sorry for her. Her voice sounding so deeply congested it was almost hard to understand what she was saying. She sniffled and sniffled again, and again.

Harper knew she was self conscious about blowing her nose in front of her so she didn’t push it. Instead she kissed her neck and soothingly rubbed her back. Bella nestled her head in the spot between Harper's neck and chest and sniffled again.

“How do you feel about chicken ramen, do you like it?”

“I do…” Bella’s voice trailed off.

“But... you’re not hungry, right?” Harper guessed.

Bella quietly raised her arm to try sneezing into the elbow, her head ducking down towards Harper’s lap “hehTSHHHCHEW *gasps* HahTTScchiew… TTTCHIEW”

“nDo, nDot hungry” *SNNNF* “ugh” Bella sighed clearly frustrated that she had to blow her nose.

“That’s okay darling, I thought as much. Bless you” she kissed her cheek. “It would be great if you could just eat a tiny bit, a few spoons. I don’t like the idea of giving you more medicine on an empty stomach. Please? For me?”

Bella just nodded her head, smart enough to know it would be useless trying to argue with Dani about this - as much as she wanted to. Maybe she was acting a bit like a brat but she couldn’t help it.

“Good girl, and then we’ll go to bed where you can get some proper rest.” They got into bed shortly afterward. Harper was naked. She guided Bella, wearing just the hoodie now, to rest on top of her. Bella sighed, contentedly this time. It felt good feeling her girlfriend’s soft skin, feeling her warmth, unfortunately she couldn’t smell her perfume right now but she knew she smelt amazing, she always did. Bella felt like an absolute mess in comparison.

“Sorry I’m not fun tonight” she said, as a way of trying to apologise for well, everything about her current state.

Harper’s soft sigh followed by “Baby, I don’t expect you to be fun all of the time.” Soothed her a bit. She continued “I know this isn’t how we normally spend our nights together, but I really love being able to take care of you like this.” She gently slipped a hand down to Bella’s lower back and gently rubbed it. Kissing her again on the forehead.

Bella sniffled, her nose tickled and she felt a sneeze coming but with Harper’s arms were wrapped tightly around her it was hard to move. She tried to sit up, but Harper didn’t let go. “What’s wrong love, you not comfy?” She asked

“I n’deed to sneeze..”

“It’s okay baby, you can sneeze on me”

“AhTISSHIEW”

“Good girl” Harper praised her, feeling her girlfriend’s warm breath against her chest as a tickly sneeze exploded out.

“HITCCSHHIEW”

“Bleeesss you, darling”

Harper praised her again with that sultry voice. That combined with the way her hand was placed on her lower back honestly would’ve turned her sick girlfriend on had she not felt like she’d been hit by a bus. She could, however, still appreciate the attention the older woman was showering her with and it did feel good.

“HAAIIIPPPPSHHTTTTIEW! ugh *SNRF* fuck”

Harper instinctively knew Bella needed a tissue, it was a particularly messy sneeze “It’s okay my baby, I got you” She pulled a couple tissues from the box and cleaned up her girlfriend’s upper lip. Before asking ”Will you blow for me?”

Bella didn’t say anything but obediently gave a hearty blow into the tissue being held around her nose.

“There we go, that’s a bit better. My poor sneezy baby”

“Love you.” Bella mumbled softly, still exhausted.

“I’m so in love with you, Bella”

Shortly after they both drifted off to sleep.

#snzbian #snzfucker #coldfucker #snz kink #cold sneezes #snzblr

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Ok a rant about Cerri bomb and how much I HATE her

In the addict music video she was a very supportive friend of Angel and I loved her in the pilot! I wish we got that supportive best friend to Angel in the final product, but unfortunately she is a woman in a vivziepop show.

She’s AWFUL now I can’t stand her, the way she tried to make Angel relapse was so weird like pilot cherri wouldn’t do that! I also really dislike her design it has to be one of my personal least favourites (not the bottom though nothing is worse than alastors design to me) she isn’t enjoyable to watch anymore she had potential if she’d only been introduced earlier! Imagine if she was introduced in episode 4 and played the supportive friend she was originally supposed to be!

And GOD I hate her ship with pentious, it was SO RUSHED, so poorly done and the ship isn’t very “so cute and in love!!” When you remember she showed literally NO interest in him until Angel brought up that he has 2 dicks, and this is supposed to be a romantic relationship we CARE about.

Cherri didn’t need a romantic relationship she needed CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT we needed to get to know her! If you’ve only seen the show and no other Hazbin media at all (which shouldn’t be required you should be able to get all your info FROM THE SHOW) you’d barely know anything about her character or who she is. I wish we got pilot cherri bomb, and that she got a design update, and that her and pent’s relationship was either taken slower or didn’t happen at all

You silly little creature you, you have me writing in my notes app instead of Tumblr because I’m about to go crazy!

Cherri Bomb. More like Cherri what the hell happened

Anyway I’m gonna tackle this one thing at a time, and also forgive me if I word something weird I just woke up an hour ago at the time of writing this.

First thing, design: I personally quite like her design since it very loosely reminds me of Iris from Ruby Gloom with ofc the one eye, the very rowdy personality and kind of the hair, but those are very broad design choices and its just me remembering some random girl I thought was silly but like Iris did it better.

Okay now second thing and then we go into literally everything else: My blog has been an angry pit of despair for everything in Episode 6 as of recent so let’s tap into that again 🤏 just a little. I am going to give my classic centrist opinion and say I don’t mind Cherri Bomb all that much but I absolutely get why people dislike her, and I mean this in the kinda way as people who dislike… Idk Fukuchi from BSD. WILD jump in fandoms but gimme a second. I can’t 100% say that Cherri Bomb in the pilot was better than the series since we have no idea if maybe for some reason she was intended to be like that offscreen, but judging by the pilot and “Addict” alone, it’s very unlikely. I could see her maybe being a bad influence at times and being like “Loosen up dude we’re in hell and its Friday” or something (idk if they have Friday in hell but everyday is probably Monday ����) but overall I feel like she’d end up apologising for it. However on the other side of things, I can understand why Cherri did that in Episode 6. Of course not to say this is okay, but Cherri is still very clearly not in the “redemption” mindset. She’s happy the way she is and is really only focused on certain aspects of issues. We see her comfort Angel in “Addict” but thats basically the extent of it. Cherri’s definition of “self-care” seems to be less of actually taking care of yourself and more like just letting go and having fun instead which really only gives a momentary fix to the issue, much like how substances can be abused. Do you kinda see what im getting at? Cherri offering Angel drugs while he’s trying not to relapse is not okay, full stop. But her reasoning as to why makes a bit of sense for her purpose in the show which is honestly not much, since, as you said, she is a woman in a Vivziepop show.

To my knowledge Cherri is like 30-ish years younger than Angel Dust in Hell experience so she’s likely not reached a point where she’s gotten tired of how things work, as well as the fact we don’t really have much of an idea on her backstory aside from that random shot in “Addict” of that guy in a puddle??? But generally she seems to be in a better position than Angel is, so there isn’t really any reason for her to want to change, yknow? I will say I do like exploring characters that are good friends while still being bad influences at times, but I’m going to be honest I feel like thats really not what Angel needs right now. I wouldn’t be as pissy about it if she did end up apologising afterwards (I’m just gonna headcanon she did for my sanity) but even then as Angel’s friend we don’t know like… anything about her. I would’ve really liked to get some kind of callback to the pilot where Cherri mentions she thought Angel was dead until the random Sir Pentious turf war, and maybe we could see her actually being worried about Angel again instead of those 3 frames in “Addict”, but Hazbin is rushed and I guess we don’t have time for that. And also YES it would’ve been great to see her in Episode 4 and actually doing something but again, Vivziepop is boring.

Going forward I would really like to see Cherri, if not become a patron, at least try to be a better friend and sure if she wants to keep doing stuff she can keep doing it, but just don’t encourage other people to relapse. It is very simple.

SIR PENTIOUS! About Sir Pentious, this is going to be incredibly short. I don’t hate the ship but also I’m not really crazy about any of the Hazbin Hotel ships? I also don’t really hate any except for the genuinely horrid ones but thats basic sense. I absolutely agree with you, Cherri does not need a romantic interest. Romance doesn’t always = growth and growth should not always = romance. She needs some genuine character TLC and I hope to god she gets some in season 2. We’ve only seen a few minutes of her so I have yet to give a firm opinion, but as of now I’m just hoping they do something actually interesting with her instead of just alluding to Sir Pentious ship. Also the penis thing. 1. What was that, and 2. It made me and my friends briefly pause to sex Sir Pentious and come to the conclusion he is likely transgender/hj

TLDR; Please give us a fun Cherri Bomb again. ☹️

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel rewrite #cherri bomb #cherri hazbin hotel #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin cherri bomb #angel dust #hazbin angel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust hazbin #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin hotel pentious #hazbin pentious #sir pentious #cherri x sir pentious #raimble

[magicshopaholic]

Other People (Seokjin x OC)

Summary: You learn a new trick, while Seokjin discovers something unexpected at Big Hit.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC

Genre: Best friends; angst

Word count: 8.5 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, mention of diets, mentions of brain surgery, mentions of a car accident (again, Nari is a surgeon, so)

A/N: This got unnecessarily long; I would apologise for it, but I couldn't find a single thing I wanted to delete. It's also two am so I've made an executive decision to not proofread this. I wish I could predict the reaction to this fic but I honestly have no idea. Takes place approximately three months after The Test.

Tagging:  @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics could not be tagged; drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "don't know why" by norah jones

seokjin masterlist | main masterlist

It’s cold and rainy in Seoul, even when it shouldn’t be. 

The day had started off as a nice sunny winter morning in November, the sun a soft golden, a welcome respite from the low temperature. As noon arrived, so did the clouds. By late afternoon, they were grey and ample, sealing the city in a coffin.

Now, the evening doesn’t look at all like it’s continued from the same morning. The rain comes down in torrents, creating a constant din, loud enough for people to have to speak in slightly raised voices to be heard properly. 

Nari stands outside the ER with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The coffee is losing its heat with every passing second and she tries to gulp it down as fast as she can without burning her tongue in the process.

“What do we have?” Daeun appears from behind her, tying her hair into a ponytail, trauma gown already on.

“Two cars crashed into each other outside the mall,” supplies Nari. “Five victims, multiple contusions, broken bones and at least one head trauma. Coffee?”

Daeun accepts the cup with a nod and takes a noisy sip. “Ah, that’s good stuff. Shit, the rain is bad. I don’t think this will be our only car accident today.”

“Not even close,” mutters Nari, as two more fellow doctors join them. “I just hope we have the room.”

“We don’t,” says Jason, shifting from one foot to another. “Two of the trauma rooms are still unusable from the pipe leakage and the most of the X-ray machines are done after the Wednesday Soccer Team Incident. We have exactly one CT machine in working condition. The hospital is going to have to scrape money off the sidewalk to pay for all those repairs,” he adds, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Good thing they’re hosting a fundraiser then,” says Daeun dryly, just as the ambulance pulls in and the paramedics spill out. “A bunch of rich donors with their cheque books hanging out of their pockets - if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”

Two patients, strapped to a gurney each are then lowered out of the ambulance. All four of them dash forward and tag themselves to a patient, hurrying inside as they listen to the paramedics rattle off their initial assessment and vitals on the field. Nari finds herself next to a woman, possibly in her thirties, with fresh cuts on her face and arms. Her t-shirt is drenched and her jacket has been ripped off, most likely by the paramedics themselves.

“Abdomen is tender so there might be internal bleeding,” says one of the paramedics. “There was no fire but there’s indication that she might have a swollen airway because of the fumes.”

“Alright, we need to get a CT,” says Nari, scanning the ER for an empty trauma room but finding none. “Damn it,” she mutters. “Okay, we’re going to have to keep her here - maybe we can use an ultrasound for now until we can move her.”

“Empty bed over here.” Jason steers the gurney over and immediately hooks the patient up to an IV. “I’ll get the portable ultrasound.”

“I’ll check her airway.” Nari gets to work immediately, trying to intubate the patient, who seems to have passed out entirely. She’s almost done when Jason returns, a nurse and the portable ultrasound machine in tow.

“This better work,” he mutters to her as the nurse begins positioning the patient correctly. “If we can’t find the bleed on this, we’re going to have to get in line for CT, which will take… hours.”

“Here’s hoping,” she agrees, standing back and observing the screen as he moves the transducer over the patient’s abdomen. She sighs and bites her lip when the image comes up clean. “Nothing. Move it to the left?”

Jason obliges, clicking his tongue. “I can’t believe the hospital doesn’t have a budget set aside to fix this stuff. This is a hospital,” he repeats, sounding appropriately frustrated. “Damn it, this bleed is really small. It’s barely showing up on the scan.”

“It has to be there. Here, let me try,” she offers, taking the transducer from him and moving it slower along the woman’s torso. “Do we all have to actually go to this fundraising thing, though? Can’t we skip?”

Jason scoffs. “It’s either dress up and smile at a bunch of rich people or stay here in the ER all night because all the attendings will be at the event. We’re not going to get a night off. The best we can do is make sure we’re all there so we at least have someone to talk to.”

It takes a second to click. “Shit, that’s it.” 

“What is? Did you find the bleed?”

“What? No. Sorry,” she mutters, going back to the ultrasound, feeling an encouraging flutter in her stomach. I didn’t find the bleed, she thinks apologetically. I found a segue.

—

It’s hours later when Nari finally gets a moment alone. Sitting at a table in the residents’ locker room, a sandwich in one hand and her phone in the other, she stares at her last chat with Seokjin. It’s a depressing series of heys and what’s ups and not muches, which is all it’s been for months now, ever since they’d last seen each other in August.

It started with superficial questions and forced conversation, half-hearted plans to meet before he had to leave for Europe again, until they dwindled down to monosyllabic answers that Nari found herself too humiliated to keep going, for more than one reason.

For one, it didn’t help her newfound insecurity of being a clingy friend, especially to a man who had made perfectly clear that he didn’t see her as anything but a friend. On top of that, she had no way of knowing what he was thinking. He wasn’t angry; she knew what Seokjin was like when he was angry and if he truly was, she would know. 

No, he wasn’t angry. He was… distant. Part of it could’ve been that he was busy, completing an entire promotional activity across Europe. But now that he’s back from their last stop in Japan, Nari knows that they have to get back on track. Being her date to a fundraiser isn’t her top pick, but it might just be the right balance between an organized event where he can’t ignore her and a public enough place that they won’t have to be alone at any point. Besides, if it doesn’t happen now, between his stint in Europe and his tour beginning early next year, she has a sinking feeling that their relationship will stagnate right here.  

She swallows, her heart racing slightly. It’s the middle of the night; Seokjin is most likely asleep, which gives her a great excuse to text and not call. 

Nari [01:11]

Hey.

She sends it before she loses her nerve, the soft whoosh sounding awfully final. Her stomach tugs uncomfortably with anxiety that she’s only recently started to associate with Seokjin, a strange and new feeling of not being able to expect what’s coming. 

She continues staring dementedly at the phone, its screen dark, until she finishes the entire sandwich. 

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Nari,” she mutters to herself, standing up with a groan and stretching. There’s no point wasting her night worrying when she’s probably not going to get a response until tomorrow. She changes out of her scrubs and runs a hand through her unwashed hair, counting herself lucky that she can get a good six hours of sleep before she has to return in the morning.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle now; despite the cold, Nari tilts her head to the sky slightly, welcoming the fresh air. She runs her hands through her hair again, feeling the droplets cooling her scalp as her hair falls around her shoulders in clumpy strands. She doesn’t even make it past the entrance when she feels the unmistakable vibration of her phone in her bag, touching her hip. 

Nari freezes. This is unprecedented; Seokjin is never awake this late. Fishing out her phone, she lets out a low breath when she sees a message from him. She can ignore it, to be sure, and deal with it tomorrow morning - but then she would come off as a coward. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s ridiculously late, maybe it’s the fact that she just spent a better part of the evening fixing a bleed in a person’s abdomen - but the inner voice in her head simply sighs tiredly and goes it’s just Seokjin, prompting her to shake her head and open his message.

Kimbap [01:35]

Hey.

It’s anticlimactic, for sure, but still unexpected. Nari takes a seat on a bench near the parking lot and wipes the droplets off her screen with the sleeve of her jacket, hoping this isn’t going to be another one of their pointless conversations.

But he replied, didn’t he?

He did. Even though it’s the middle of the night. Encouraged, she responds.

Nari [01:39]

Didn’t expect you to be awake.

Kimbap [01:40]

We’re watching a movie at the dorm.

Nari [01:40]

Oh. Which one?

Kimbap [01:41]

Hereditary. I hate it.

Nari [01:41]

Jesus. Then why are you still watching it?

Kimbap [01:41]

There’s a bet and Jungkook is involved. It’s a long story.

Nari’s immediate response of I have time gets backspaced instantly. The honest truth is that she doesn’t have time and he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. She can’t be sure how well a joke will land right now but she also knows that she needs to respond fast or this is doomed to be another one of their hopeless attempts at a conversation.

All of a sudden, her phone rings and Nari almost drops it. It’s Seokjin, his name blinking bright on the screen. Now fully panicking - because this was not part of the plan - Nari looks around wildly around the empty parking lot, as though hoping for someone to spring out of the bushes and tell her what to do.

The phone is still ringing. Before she realises what’s happening, her thumb does an awkward sort of spasm and lands on the screen, answering the call.

Here goes nothing, she thinks. “Um, h-hello?” she stutters.

“Hey.” 

It’s like a football being kicked into her ribcage from the inside. Nari winces, wondering when her anxiety got this severe, to the point where her best friend’s voice is starting to cause her physical comfort. She leans back on the bench and tries to breathe slowly.

“Aren’t you, um, watching a movie?”

“Yeah. But if I’m on the phone, I have a decent excuse to get out of it.”

Oh. Nari feels her shoulders deflate. “Glad to be of help,” she murmurs, chuckling awkwardly. “How - how are you? Are you in Seoul?”

“Yeah, I am. Busy, though,” he adds quickly. “The album’s coming out in a week, so there’s a lot of work going on for it.”

“Right. Of course. How’s that going?”

“It’s fine. Hectic, as per usual. What about you?” he asks after a moment. “How’s the hospital, and the… surgeries and stuff?”

“Same. I mean, hectic. As usual.” Nari closes her eyes and feels her heart sink at the sheer effort this conversation is taking. She can’t begin to think about how they got here and it seems way too exhausting to even try.

“You sound tired.” Seokjin pauses, the sentence sounding incomplete. “Have you - I mean, are you still at the hospital?”

“Going home now. I just got a sandwich at the cafeteria,” she adds, hoping she’s guessed his half-question right. 

“Now? I thought you hated the night cafeteria.”

“I do, but it beats the vending machine crap. Have to make do when the jajjangmyeon isn’t an option,” she jokes, bracing herself for his response.

But all he does is chuckle half-heartedly. “Yeah. What’s up? You texted?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Nari had barely worked up the nerve to text him about the fundraiser; asking him over the phone was a whole different ball game. “I was just thinking…” She trails off, her eyes widening as her vocal chords stay unwilling to go further.

“M-hm?”

Pull yourself together, woman.

“I was thinking that… we haven’t hung out in a while,” she ventures bravely, her knee jerking up and down. “And there’s a - there’s a thing later this week, so… that could be… you know.” She swallows, wishing Jason hadn’t put this stupid idea in her head in the first place. “... If you want,” she finishes lamely.

Seokjin is silent for a few seconds, during which Nari goes from anticipation to full-blown horror. “I’m sorry, are you - are you inviting me to something?” he asks, sounding confused.

“Um, kind of?”

“Like a party?”

“Well, no. Not a fun one,” she says wryly. “It’s a - there’s a fundraiser. And I have to go and… yeah, I was wondering if maybe you do, too. Since we haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Fundraiser, huh?” He doesn’t sound enthused at all. “Like, for charity? Wait, who’s the charity?”

“We are the charity,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “The hospital. Which means it’s just going to be all board members and senior doctors and other board members - and us. The residents.”

“Huh. Way to make it sound appealing, Nari.”

“It’s not appealing, at all. But it’s free food and booze and I get a chance to get out of my scrubs,” she points out. “Nice dress, straightened hair. And you’ll have to wear a suit,” she adds apologetically. 

“Right.” There’s a soft sound and Nari realises a moment later that he’s laughing quietly. It makes her stomach feel uncomfortably heavy. 

“What?” she asks, a bit defensively.

“Nothing,” he says, still chuckling. “We haven’t hung out in a while, so your idea was to do so at a… boring work event?”

Nari is quiet for a moment. The fact that he laughed is still prickling. “Well, I’d be open to other suggestions but you haven’t really had the time,” she can’t resist saying. “I work long hours; I don’t really get a lot of other opportunities to go out.”

“Yeah, Nari, I work long hours, too,” he reminds her, sounding irritatingly calm. “But if it’s either that or a hospital charity fundraising event filled with doctors… I think I’ll pick the long hours.” He chuckles again.

You’re a fucking idiot, Nari.

“Got it. See you around, Seokjin.”

“Nari, come on, I was joking -”

His words get cut off when she hangs up, fuming. She puts her phone on silent then, for good measure, and begins storming home in the cold. She won’t respond to any of his calls or messages tonight, the arse, she thinks. But fate must be on her side, for even after she gets home, changes and gets into bed, Seokjin doesn’t call or message.

—

Seokjin reaches the Big Hit building earlier than required. There’s no one in the rehearsal room yet, not even Hoseok, so he decides to get a much needed shot of caffeine from the cafeteria on the fourteenth floor. As he waits in line, he scans the food menu, each item like a gourmet creation.

Have to make do when the jajjangmyeon isn’t an option.

Seokjin sighs and tries not to think about what Nari had for dinner last night, but by the time his coffee is handed to him, he knows he’s a goner. It had taken him every ounce of restraint to not reach out to her again last night, knowing that no good would come of it. But now, in the light of day, he knows he can’t avoid it any longer. 

He calls her before he can talk himself out of it. Looking out at the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows and sipping his coffee, he hears her phone ring continuously until it goes to voicemail. He tries not to read too much into it; she’s probably already at work and she rarely answers unless she’s taking a break. It’s better than the other option; the feeling of Nari being angry with him is too foreign for him to consider right now.

He dials her number again to be certain and when it once again goes to voicemail, he clears his throat and takes another sip of coffee for liquid courage.

“Hey, Nari,” he begins, then sighs. “Look, I’m sorry if I was a bit of a dick last night. You just caught me off guard. Honestly, I… I didn’t think you really wanted to hang out with me so when you said you did, it just kind of threw me. And your event does sound boring,” he adds, hoping she hears the teasing in his voice, “but I’ll be there anyway. Suit and everything. I want to hang out with you, too,” he says after a moment, knowing the words don’t even begin to explain the magnitude of how much he wants to see her again, how hard it’s been to distance himself since the last time he saw her. “So… yeah. Text me the details.”

He should be saying something more but he can’t think what. As he looks around, hoping the words will come to him, he spots a figure just outside the cafeteria doors and does a double take. His mind runs through a myriad of memories to zero in on the right one, when he remembers he’s still on the phone.

“Anyway, I have to go. Bye.” Locking his phone and heading out towards the figure, Seokjin pushes his shoulders back and hopes he isn’t wrong. She’s in a slim navy blazer, skinny jeans and very high heels, a sleek laptop tucked under one arm and her fingers flying across the keypad of a Blackberry.

He taps her shoulder with a feather-light touch. “Um, hi? I think I have something that belongs to you?”

When she turns around, face carefully blank, Seokjin is momentarily sure of two things: one, that she is exactly who he thought she was, and two, that her lack of expression can only mean that she doesn’t remember him.

“You do?” A moment later, her perfectly lined lips tilt upwards slightly. “That’s right. What was it again?”

“Um…” Seokjin licks his lips, glad that he didn’t just go up to a random stranger and interrupt her in the middle of what seems to be a very long email. “I think it was a collectible of some kind? Very glamorous. Had a name on the inside?”

Her smile widens. “Do you remember what it was?”

Seokjin gulps but keeps his face still. “Of course. It was… Seulgi.” The relief at her nod is unexpected. “You think I’d forget the person that saved my hand that night? How would I ever hold a mic otherwise? My career might have been over!”

Seulgi laugh, a nice, low laugh. Her teeth are perfectly lined and perfectly white, shining against light bronze skin without a single pore. Her hair is long, straight and black, not a strand out of place. She looks like she belongs on a pamphlet for corporate employees.

Which reminds him.

“Do you - do you actually work here?” he asks. “In Big Hit?”

“Yeah,” she answers, looking only very slightly apologetic. “I thought I recognised you that night as well but I couldn’t be sure. I only just moved to the Marketing team. Sorry.”

“Uh, no, don’t be.” Seokjiin shakes his head. “It’s good to see you. And now I can return the wrist brace to you, too! This is great.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. I told you, I have a bunch of them,” she reminds him, raising her left hand slightly. From under the sleeve of her blazer, a navy blue brace, just like the purple one she’d lent him, peaks out. 

“No, no, I should,” he says anyway, shaking his head and glancing at the clock on his phone. There’s a message on his notification tray… “It’s back in my…” He wracks his brain, “... uh, flight. Which I took. The day after you lent me the brace.” He drops his face in his hands when she laughs again, low and husky.

“It’s really okay,” she says, touching his arm before taking a step back. “I actually do have a lot of them. And maybe they’ll help out some other poor soul who’s hurt his wrist.”

“That’s the hope,” he agrees, knowing his ears are reddening. “Man, I really wish I’d known you worked here. I would’ve… I don’t know. Broken the news about losing your brace sooner, for starters.”

“The loss would’ve been easier,” she agrees.

Seokjin bites his lip, preparing to let the awkwardness wash over him but it doesn’t. Seulgi’s warm, despite her appearance suggesting she’s about to walk into a room and fire a dozen people. 

“I feel really guilty, though,” he repeats after a moment. “Can I - I don’t know… buy you a coffee? It’s no collector’s edition wrist brace, but still?”

“Oh, that actually sounds good,” she replies, and for a moment his heart skips a beat of relief, “but the line seems long and I have a meeting.” She holds her Blackberry up apologetically. 

For the first time, Seokjin notices a Galaxy in her other hand – a personal cell and a work cell. She’s core corporate, he realises, possibly senior management. He doesn’t know why, but it’s slightly intimidating.

“Oh. Oh, okay. Sure.” He nods as she moves past him. “It was good to see you, though.”

“Yeah, you, too. Glad your wrist is better.” With a quick wave, she heads down the corridor and disappears from view.

Seokjin watches her leave, still cringing somewhat over the wrist brace he hasn’t thought about in months. She’d been the only person that night he’d had a normal conversation with - somehow, this doesn’t seem like the best way to show his gratitude.

It’s time to head for practice, anyway. As he steps into the elevator, he opens his messages and breathes a sigh of relief. 

Nari [09:14]

[Location]

Nari [09:14]

Friday, 7 pm

—

It’s hours later when they’re finally done with practice. All seven of them, a choreographer and a couple camerapersons are the only ones left. Jimin and Jungkook are still standing, going over their portion of the choreography as Hoseok watches, even though they look like they might collapse any second. Taehyung is spread-eagled on the floor, his bowl hat on his face. Yoongi is sitting in one corner of the room, staring into nothing.

Seokjin feels too tired to move, every single muscle aching. He leans back against the mirror and tries to catch his breath. Next to him, Namjoon is lying on the floor and texting. Seokjin catches a couple of words and immediately looks away; It seems to be in English, so it’s a fairly easy guess who the other person is.

“Any plans tonight, hyung?” Yoongi trudges over and tumbles down on his other side, crossing his legs.

“Not a one,” answers Seokjin. “In fact, I don’t think I’ll be getting out of bed for a while so if you need anything, I’ll respond to you in two to five business days.”

“You need to be at the studio tomorrow morning.”

There’s a pause. “Fine, but apart from that,” he amends, wagging his finger in Yoongi’s face, “two to five business days.”

“There’s also the interview on Friday.”

“Damn it, Yoongi,” groans Seokjin, glaring at him. “Fine, but that’s the last one. I have plans to vegetate all weekend in my apartment,” he informs him, knowing that there’s no way he'll get the entire weekend off, but needing to put across the point, “so just… don’t ruin it for me.” He watches Yoongi make a motion that might be a chuckle and rolls his eyes. “And besides, the interview is on Thursday. So my weekend begins on Friday.”

“The interview is on Friday,” says Yoongi calmly.

“No, it’s not. It’s Thursday. The twenty-fourth.”

“Thursday is the twenty-third.”

“No,” repeats Seokjin, feeling his pulse start to race, “it - it was always on Thursday.”

“No, it’s Friday,” pipes up Namjoon from his other side, not looking away from his phone.

And thus, Seokjin is left to spend the rest of the day in a growing pit of guilt, knowing that he’s going to have to disappoint Nari yet again - this time, completely unintentionally.

Her hesitation last night had not gone unnoticed by him. It was hard to hear but equally hard to respond to, and Seokjin half-hoped that she would find it too hard to go through with actually inviting him somewhere and drop the idea altogether. 

But she persisted and while it made Seokjin profusely glad that she still cared, it also meant that he would have to find a way to face her after avoiding her for months.

It doesn’t feel nearly as easy as it sounds, for Seokjin has absolutely no idea what to expect when it comes to Nari now. Part of him still feels guilty for lying to her the day after the wedding; her question had taken him completely off guard and lying about his feelings was the only way he’d been able to think of to avoid the situation getting worse.

It was a mess already but somehow, twenty-four hours later, it was So Much Worse. Somehow, Nari had come to him with a problem he couldn’t ignore. Somehow, he suddenly had to reevaluate his entire life with her in it, and somehow, in less than a day, his short-lived future with Nari as the mother of his child and best friend for life had been created and shattered.

It was hard to think of, and so much harder to talk to Nari about. Seokjin had been on the verge, dozens of times, of just breaking the ice and chatting with his best friend while he sat in cold European towns and watched Taehyung get his heart broken over and over again by Dilara Komyshan.

At least we’re not that bad yet, he’d tried to tell himself. He wanted to tell her, too, that they weren’t that bad, that they were okay, that he just needed some time. But the thought of confessing his surreal daydream, of irretrievably changing their friendship felt like too much of a responsibility - especially if she didn’t respond well. Avoiding her sucked, but it beat being around her with nothing to say.

Still, saying no to her outright, when she’d asked him point blank to accompany him to something was too hard. The fundraiser thing did sound boring, but he wanted to see her, too, so badly. It felt like a missing limb, not being able to talk to her. 

Nice dress, straightened hair. And he would have to be in a suit. He shudders when he remembers what happened the last time she was in a nice dress and he was in a suit. 

“Namjoon.” Seokjin jogs over to the leader as they’re heading out of the building to their cars in the basement. “About this press conference on Friday.”

“Yeah?” 

Seokjin hesitates, already sensing a no-nonsense mood. It hasn’t been the best day for Namjoon; the choreography was a complicated one, he was having to negotiate schedules all day, and if he’s not mistaken, he and Kaya have definitely been having some disagreement all day.

“About this press conference on Thursday -”

“Friday.”

“- I was - yes, Friday -” Seokjin clears his throat. “How important would you say it is for all of us to show up, on a scale of one to… Grammys?”

Namjoon stares. “At least VMAs.”

Seokjin nods seriously, even though it doesn’t help him in the least. “Okay,” he says, changing tacks, “how long do you think it’ll go on?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Namjoon sighs, scrolling through some document on his phone. “It should be done by six, but there’s a sponsors’ dinner after that - but that won’t be filmed so maybe we can leave early… of course, we’ll need to let management know so they have an exit plan…” He shakes his head and continues muttering under his breath.

“Okay, sure,” interrupts Seokjin, sensing that Namjoon is starting to lose the plot. “But what time do you think the event will actually end? Because I have to be somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Uh… a thing. With Nari,” he adds shortly. To his relief, Namjoon simply raises his eyebrows but doesn’t probe.

“I - I don’t know, hyung,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all. It’s definitely a fight with Kaya. “We won’t know until we get there. Depends on the sponsors. If it helps, it’s happening right here, in this building.”

It does help, a bit, for the location is closer to the Big Hit building than the hospital is. Still, it could be better.

“Look, I just need to tell Nari if I can make it or not,” he says, no longer beating around the bush. “I don’t want to make her a promise I can’t keep.”

Namjoon licks his lips slowly and nods. “I think you’ve been in this business long enough to know the answer to that, hyung,” he says cryptically, patting his shoulder and walking away.

“What the hell does that mean?” Seokjin demands, but Namjoon just shrugs and continues walking away. 

He does know what it means, though. But you’re a coward, Kim Seokjin, says the voice inside his head, sounding like Nari’s, as he prepares to text her later that night rather than call, knowing (and somewhat hoping) that she’ll be too busy to answer right away.

Seokjin [20:11]

I have some not so great news.

To his horror, she replies almost immediately.

Nari [20:13]

Bring it.

Seokjin [20:13]

Promise you won’t get mad?

Nari [20:14]

I’m two beers and a tequila shot down. This would be the right time to give me some not so great news.

Seokjin pauses. She’s drinking, which means she got off work at a reasonable time tonight. He should be glad about that, for her, but he can’t figure out what is also bothering him about it.

Seokjin [20:16]

Oh? No surgeries?

Nari [20:16]

Nope, I’m not on call tonight. I was going to go home and crash but the others convinced me to have a drink first.

Seokjin [20:17]

Sounds like more than a drink.

Nari [20:18]

I may have gotten carried away, but zero regrets. 

Seokjin [20:18]

Do you have a ride home?

Nari [20:19]

I live half a block away from the hospital. I’m sure most of these guys will crash at my place when they’re too trashed to get home.

Seokjin [20:19]

Are you sure?

Nari [20:20]

Yes. You don’t have to worry about me, you know.

She’s drunk; her transparency makes that clear. This may be the best or the worst time to give her the news, but Seokjin doesn’t think he can continue worrying about this for the rest of the night.

Seokjin [20:21]

Okay. Look, I need to talk to you about Friday.

Nari [20:21]

Something came up and you don’t think you can make it?

Seokjin’s heart jerks. He may not have met Nari much over the last few months, but he still knows her well enough to tell when she’s reaching the end of her tether.

Seokjin [20:22]

It’s a press thing. I can’t miss it.

Nari [20:23]

Of course. Unfortunate that you found out about it only today.

Seokjin [20:23]

No, it’s not that. I actually forgot. I thought it was on Thursday but it turns out it’s actually Friday. It’s my fault - I mixed up the days.

Nari [20:24]

Of course. Some other time, I guess.

Seokjin can picture her scoff, locking her phone and placing it on a bar table, screen down. He scrambles.

Seokjin [20:25]

I’m just saying I’ll be a little late.

Nari [20:25]

Late? Are you sure?

Seokjin [20:26]

Yeah. I don’t know how late but I’ll be there. I’ll try my best anyway.

Nari [20:26]

I’m sure you will.

This time, her status goes from “online” to “offline” and he knows she’s gone. This is a side of Nari he hasn’t seen in years: snide and sarcastic. It’s incredibly rare, requires a mix of things to be going wrong in her life, and has never, ever been directed at him.

Seokjin feels squeamish and guilty and helpless all at once - but he’s also beginning to get mildly annoyed. He’s determined to show up now, if for nothing else than to prove her wrong. 

Take that, Nari. He pictures showing up at the event, jogging up the stairs and bursting into a hall filled with white-haired individuals in conservative finery. Nari, in the same leaf-green bridesmaid’s dress with strappy high heels, would be at the end of the hall at the bar, looking victorious at the assumption that he hasn’t shown. The crowd would part then and she would turn, the satisfied smirk fading at the sight of him, late and panting - but there.

The next moment, Seokjin cringes at this ridiculous fantasy. Even the imaginary voice in his head that sounds a bit like Nari snickers. 

—

Nari fingers the strap of her dress nervously, feeling rather odd at being this dressed up around people who only ever see her in scrubs. Most of the other doctors seem to be feeling similarly, though, and she tries to coach herself to remember that they’re still the same people - just wearing make-up and cologne.

“Hey,” comes Jason’s voice from behind her, and she turns, glad to see someone she knows. “You - wow, you look amazing.”

“Really?” Nari asks quickly, smoothing down her dress. It’s long and plain black, nothing fancy, with a thin necklace and the only strappy high heels she owns. “It’s not too low cut?”

“Um -” Jason frowns and immediately looks away. “I - I don’t know. It looks - I mean, I didn’t -” He stutters in confusion, his gaze darting around in panic. “I don’t - I mean, should I look?”

“What? No, of course not.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Sorry. I’m just not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“This,” she says, referring to nothing in particular. “The dress and the hair and the - the make-up. I don’t do it very often.” Looking up to see him still deliberately looking away, she slaps his shoulder. “Damn it, Jace, you can look at me now.”

“Oh.” He makes a big show of slowly moving his gaze towards her, grinning when she chuckles begrudgingly. “Don’t worry, dude. You look great.”

“Thanks. You, too, by the way,” she says honestly, noting the suit and the neatly brushed hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your jaw this smooth,” she remarks, turning his chin slightly.

“A last minute shave in the residents’ locker room changed the game.” Jason rubs his jaw and winces slightly. “Should I be concerned about my skills as a surgeon that I cut myself in two different places while doing it?”

Nari laughs, feeling slightly less nervous. “Not unless you’re the patient. Also, where the hell is everybody else?”

“Oh, Daeun got pulled into surgery - her motorcycle guy ruptured his spleen,” he answers, gesturing to the bartender. “She said she’d be back if it got over in time. Hyeri had to monitor her valve replacement lady to see if she’ll make it through the night. Oh, and Eunji is over there,” he adds, pointing to the other end of the hall.

Nari squints in the direction he’s pointing. “Who’s that she’s with?” 

“Her boyfriend, probably.” Jason shrugs as the bartender comes over. “A chaebol type, from what I can tell. Hey. you want a drink?”

“Uh, sure. Beer. Wait, can we have beer?” She frowns.

“I don’t know. Not fancy enough, is it?”

“We don’t have beer,” volunteers the bartender.

“Right,” says Nari. “In that case, I will have a glass of your strongest… whatever is strongest.”

Jason nods seriously. “Two of those. Thank you.”

The bartender raises an eyebrow but nods anyway, going back to mix their drinks. 

“So… it’s just you and me?” She leans back against the bar and scans the room. “Wait, do you have a date coming, too?”

“What?” Jason wrinkles his nose. “No. I’ve been on a neuro rotation all week - I haven’t had time to breathe, forget about looking for a date. You?”

“Have I had time to breathe?”

“Do you have a date.”

“Right.” Nari bites her lip. “Not exactly. I mean, I - I invited a friend. Seokjin - you met him, remember?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jason nods as their drinks arrive and they automatically pick theirs up. “Cheers. So why isn’t he a date?”

“Because he’s a friend.” As she says it, a terrifying possibility occurs to her: could Seokjin actually think this is a date? It would explain his random excuse to arrive “late” - if he does at all.

“He is? Really?” He looks mildly curious. “Because that night at Hyeri’s - I could’ve sworn he had a thing for you.”

Nari’s heart skips a beat. “You’re not the first person to think that,” she mutters into her glass, taking a stinging sip of what tastes like scotch. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

“It’s strong,” he remarks. “But I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, the painful humiliation of that moment after the wedding seeping into her body again. “Just… he doesn’t. Have a thing for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really? I mean, because it seemed like -”

“Jason,” she interrupts him, needing this conversation to end. “He doesn’t. Believe me. I’m completely sure.”

For a moment, it looks like he’s going to say something else but then seems to think the better of it. Nari is thankful; reliving that moment is bad enough, but her mind is now also preoccupied with the possibility that Seokjin might be avoiding coming tonight because he thinks she’s asked him on a date - and because he’s nice and can’t reject her outright twice, he’s having to resort to half-hearted lies and work excuses.

It’s a grim thought. She and Seokjin haven’t spoken since he told her he’d try to make it - and she’d been less than gracious about it. It was the alcohol, she’d reasoned the next morning, and despite the annoyance with his flimsy attempts at avoiding her, she’d dropped him a cursory Seriously, don’t worry about it. She’d waited just long enough to get a I’ll still try my best, and tried not to think about it since.

Nari takes another sip of her disgusting drink, not sure which is worse - if he shows or if he doesn’t.

—

“There he is. Jerk.”

Seokjin’s ears perk up at Taehyung’s quiet snarl. He follows the younger member’s gaze and feels his mouth twist as well when he spots the one journalist who had pestered them relentlessly with questions, each one more backhanded than the previous one, ranging from their solo ambitions to accusations of plagiarism.

“Where’s Namjoon?” he mutters, looking around. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t run into that guy without other guests around. Or witnesses,” he adds.

“He’s over by the water,” supplies Jungkook. “I think he’s talking to one of the sponsors.”

“Let’s keep an eye on him, then,” says Yoongi dryly. “Just in case he decides to do something drastic, like get into a logically structured argument.”

Seokjin half-chuckles. He does want Namjoon to come over, partly to keep an eye on him but mostly to check when he can leave. He checks his phone; it’s almost eight. As much as Nari’s last message, days ago, hadn’t seemed at all confident that he would make it, it only made him more determined to show up.

Namjoon doesn’t come over, though. Eventually, Seokjin joins him, hoping to get a moment of his time between guests.

“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests, after another one of the sponsors leave and Namjoon’s well-practiced public smile fades. “Eat something? Or even have a drink?”

Namjoon smiles wearily. “Thanks, hyung. Maybe later.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I can’t wait to get out of here. Zoom date with Kaya,” he adds, answering Seokjin’s silent question.

“Then we should leave now,” he says immediately, jumping at the opportunity. “Or you’ll just get even more tired and you’ll have to cancel on Kaya.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the only thing I’ve been looking forward to all day,” he replies, shaking his head. “There’s no way I’m cancelling.”

Seokjin responds to this with a grimace; while he would ordinarily find it sweet, right now, this blatant happiness is just annoying. He tries to think of another line of reasoning that could convince Namjoon to bounce, but before he can, two middle-aged people, one man and one woman, join them.

There’s some initial greeting; Seokjin gets through it robotically while Namjoon goes from tired to charming in a microsecond. The topic predictability begins with the press conference that just took place, followed by both guests praising Namjoon for his wonderful answers that he receives with respectful gratitude.

“I’m sorry you all have to stay for the dinner,” the woman says to Seokjin while the other two speak about something else. “You’re so young; I’m sure you all have other plans tonight.”

Lady, you have no idea. But he forces a smile on his face. “We’re happy to be here. Besides, if I’m lucky,” he adds hopefully after a moment, “my plans might still be there after this.”

“Oh?” The lady seems most interested. “A fancy party you need to get to?”

“Something like that. I have to meet someone at an event.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No,” he answers hastily. “Just a friend. It’s a work thing at the hospital she works. She’s a doctor,” he adds for good measure.

To his surprise, the lady nods. “Oh, I know that. It’s a fundraiser, right? Seoul National Hospital?” When Seokjin raises his eyebrows and nods, she smiles in acknowledgement. “I have a couple of friends there, too. Those doctors do such good work - pity they don’t have the money to continue their work in peace. Your friend is smart, though,” she says after a moment, patting Seokjin’s shoulder with a knowing look, “inviting a BTS member to the event.”

Seokjin doesn’t immediately understand. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, they need the money, don’t they?” She chuckles, sounding almost impressed. “Not a lot of people have the contacts to bring in someone like BTS to be a donor.”

Something drops in his stomach. “Oh, I - I think you’ve misunderstood. She’s my friend and we - we haven’t met in a long time because we’ve both been very busy. It’s not a - I mean, I’m not a - a donor.”

The lady looks confused for a moment. “Oh. My apologies. It just seemed like a smart thing to do, you know?”

Seokjin swallows. “Sure,” he says shortly. “But, uh… it’s not like that.” He nods to himself, knowing he’s right. “Nari would never do that.”

—

Nari shuffles through the crowd to where she can see Jason with Eunji and her boyfriend, taking care not to trip in her heels. She sees them turn and spot her as she gets close, but she doesn’t have time for pleasantries.

“Incoming,” she states. All of their eyes dart up and behind her; Eunji is the first one to notice.

“Damn it. Come on, babe,” she commands her partner, taking his hand and setting off. “Let’s go dance before he gets us.” In a flash of a second, they’re both gone.

“Okay, it’s our turn,” she says hurriedly to Jason, placing her drink on the bar and gathering her long dress in her hand. “If Dr Jung gets hold of us, it’s going to be a repeat of the mixer.”

Jason grimaces. “Oh, God. You mean when he tried to recruit each of us one by one by using his holiday calendar as a selling point?”

“That’s the one. Come on, he’s already seen me, but maybe we can still make a break for it!” she whispers dramatically, getting ready to go but stopping when he grabs her wrist.

“It’s too late,” he says gravely. “We’re going to need another plan. Tell me about your craniotomy today.”

“I - what?” Nari’s eyes widen. “Did you not hear me?”

“I did. Now talk to me about something medical,” he instructs. “And make it seem like there’s a problem - like, just talk urgently. Come on,” he urges, shaking her wrist.

“Um - okay, uh, the patient came in with migraines and was having seizures so we did an MRI and found an aneurysm located in the temporal lobe of the brain -”

“That’s great,” he whispers, and Nari notices his gaze slide carefully to the left to watch Dr Jung reach them, before quickly looking back at Nari. “But his vitals still aren’t stable,” he says suddenly, at a regular volume.

Nari’s jaw drops before she realises what he’s doing. “His blood pressure is what we need to observe carefully or he’s going to need another surgery tomorrow.”

“Is there any chance the aneurysm could’ve burst anyway? Even after you clipped it?”

Nari stares, a little thrown by how convincing his acting is. 

“Answer me!”

“A little over the top, don’t you think?” she mutters.

“The man is two feet behind you,” he replies, equally quietly, before tugging her closer and placing his hands dramatically on her shoulders. “What if it’s a brain bleed? What if -”

“How dare you?” She interrupts him, jabbing him in the chest. “My aneurysm was clipped perfectly, you son of a bitch!”

Jason’s eyes flicker with this unexpected turn of conversation but he plays along. “We still need to get an MRI to rule out any other complications, like a hematoma, or an air embolism or -” He pauses, craning his neck slightly, “... and he’s gone.” His shoulders relax and his hands slide off her arms.

“No way did that work,” she marvels in a low voice, turning around to check and see that he’s right.

“Of course it did. Nobody interrupts two doctors discussing a patient,” he says absently, rubbing a spot on his chest. “You may need some practice, though. I think you bruised my chest.”

“Don’t be a baby,” she tells him teasingly, asking for another drink and feeling a lot more relaxed than before. “But that was a pretty neat trick.”

“I can teach you many, young ‘un,” he says seriously, casually taking a sip of his third scotch. “But I don’t think we have the time tonight. Won’t Seokjin be here soon?”

Her drink arrives then and Nari takes it with a quiet thanks. Taking a larger sip than intended, she shakes her head. “He’s not going to make it,” she says, swallowing and wincing.

“Oh.” Jason frowns. “Did he call?”

“Nope.” Nari shakes her head, finding it a bit sad how unsurprised she is. “But he’s not going to make it.”

His frown deepens slightly and she’s sure he’s picked up on her change in tone, but she’s thankful he doesn’t mention it.

“Do you want to learn another trick then?” he offers.

Nari smiles, trying to look at the bright side: Seokjin would not have enjoyed this. He wouldn’t know anyone and he wouldn’t understand any of their conversation. A call would have been nice, but things aren’t the same anymore. 

She’s here, she has a night off, and she’s not alone. It could be a lot worse.

“Sure,” she answers. “But I’m going to need to be a lot more drunk for the next one.”

—

The ETA on the map says forty minutes. Seokjin has no idea how long hospital fundraisers last, but he needs to try. He exits the building, already tired from the negotiating he had to do to leave early. It’s starting to drizzle, so he ducks into the nearest establishment - a small cafe - as he waits for his car. The traffic outside is ridiculous, though; he hasn’t the faintest idea how long it’ll actually take him to get to the fundraiser.

Nari hasn’t called or messaged, though. Neither has he, he knows, but her last message had implied such a lack of faith in his intention to show up that it had rankled him just a bit. Over the course of the week, it had festered until it’s now more of a challenge than anything else, for he can’t think of a single other reason as to why he’s going to this thing. 

For Nari, says the voice weakly, sounding unconvinced. Nari, it seems, neither knows nor cares if he shows up, for all the interest she’s shown in his whereabouts. I’ll try me best, he’d said, meaning it completely, but she clearly didn’t believe it.

Seokjin sighs, mentally so exhausted that he can’t even muster the energy to be annoyed or hurt or confused right now. He’s just about to step back outside when he hears a voice he doesn’t expect.

“Can I get a bottle of water, please?”

He turns to see straight hair and a blazer, mint green this time, with the sleeves pushed up. “Seulgi?” he calls unsurely.

She turns and her eyes light up in recognition. “Hey, Seokjin. How are you?”

“Tired,” he admits. “You?”

“The same. Just trying to find the guiltiest pleasure on the menu to break my diet with tonight,” she says, pointing at the few items on the board. “It’s just been one of those days.”

“Tell me about it,” he murmurs, taking a few steps to stand beside her. “Anything catch your eye?”

“Not really. It’s just sandwiches,” she grumbles. “But I don’t really have a lot of options right now.”

Seokjin is quiet for a few seconds while she gets a bottle of water and takes a long swig from it. “I actually know of a ramen place close by. If you want. I break my diets there all the time,” he tells her.

“Really?” This time he isn’t imagining it; her eyes do light up. “How much?”

“Well… enough to feel like I’ve rebelled against the company for the night, but not so much that I can’t resume it the next day.”

“That’s the perfect amount.”

“Is that a yes?”

Seulgi grins tiredly, reminding him for a moment of Namjoon earlier tonight. “It is.” Her eyes flicker lower and her smile fades. “Oh, wait. You’re in a suit - are you going somewhere?”

Seokjin bites his lip. “I was at the press conference, and the dinner after that.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t look fully convinced. “And you were going… where?”

“Well, now I’m going to get ramen because it’s in my head.”

She cracks a smile. “I’m serious, though. You’re in a suit,” she repeats, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere?”

Question of the hour. But Seokjin knows that even if he does make it through the traffic, this will still be the easiest conversation he’s going to have all day.

“No. I don’t need to be anywhere.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#seokjin x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanoasis #micdropnet #hyunglinenetwrok #k-vanity #wkcnet #bts jin fanfic #bts jin angst

[finelinevogue]

h and y/n are like cuddled on the sofa having deep convos and they’re like massaging eachother?? super duper fluffy please!!🌷🍰

okay for some reason this is both sad and fluffy, and idk how we got here

warnings: touches on sensitive topics in the current news

May 24th 2022

The BBC News was playing in the background and the clock struck 10 PM.

You and Harry were snuggled down deep on the couch, Harry spooning you from behind. One of his arms was helping keep his head up to peer over your body, whilst his other draped casually around your waist. You were both facing the TV, but neither of you were actually watching it.

Brixton ONO had finished a couple of hours before and you couldn’t be more proud of him and what he’s achieved. The rest of the band had gone out in London to celebrate, along with crew and some members of management, but Harry decided to come home with you instead.

He would always come home to you.

“The news is so sad at the moment.” You pointed out after watching the headlines.

“It’s because the world is so fucked up at the moment. It’s just, we don’t see it daily because we live on our little familiar bubble.”

“I just struggle to live every day freely when those people are suffering in Ukraine and there’s school shootings to innocent children. Then the cost of living crisis in the UK. It’s all just so fucked, H, and it makes me terrified to bring this one into the world.” You took his hand and rubbed it over your still flat belly.

You were only a few weeks into your pregnancy so there’d be no bump for a while. Harry couldn’t wait for it to start showing though. So much so he would make you wear the tightest top he could find and judge whether there was any difference in bump from the day before. You kept reminding him that it was just your extra belly pouch. He loved on it all the same though.

“I would hope that our love for this little one would be enough to keep them safe and healthy.” Harry answered, calming you down by kissing along your neck.

“You’re going to be such a good dad, H.”

“Yeah? And you’ll be an even better mum. In fact, y’already are. Keeping them all safe and warm.” Harry squeezed your belly a little tighter, as is he were giving the baby a hug.

“H, it’s a literally just a blob right now.” You laughed.

“A blob that I love.” He laughed back, kissing your cheek because he couldn’t quite reach your lips.

“Okay, off topic, but that reminds me. Have you seen all that shit with the abortion laws in America?” You felt Harry’s arm tighten around your stomach.

“Yeah. It makes me feel so sick that men in high powers think they can just take away womens rights, as if they’ve ever owned a uterus before.” Harry shook his head.

“And if we’re raped it still doesn’t constitute an excuse for an abortion? I mean what kind of sick and medieval law is that?” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get riled up over this issue.

You turned so you were now laying on your back instead of your front and turned your head to face Harry, who was looking at you with awe. His hand stayed placed on your stomach and your hands went and sat on-top of his.

“I know, baby. It’s fucked, I’m sorry.”

“Harry, it’s not you who should be apologising. I mean of course I, we, have a voice in this, but we shouldn’t be louder than the people who actually have been through these situations. Their stories need to be heard and they are the ones that deserve apologies.”

“You’re right. Do you know anything that we can do?” Harry asked, always wanting to be the first one to join the rally.

“Spread awareness on the media. Sign petitions and call up local offices. Voices need to be heard, so make everything as public as possible.” You explained and Harry nodded his head in agreement.

“I could donate to some women’s rights visitors too.”

“We both can.” You raised your hand to cup his cheek, because you wanted to remind him that it were a team and you’d face all of this together. “Sorry, by the way.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed and he slid his hand underneath your t-shirt so he could softly rub the skin there. “What for?”

“For you having to lay here and listen to me rant about sad issues, when you could be out with your friends celebrating your success.”

Harry chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. It had been ten minutes too long since you’d last tasted his lips and you couldn’t help but moan at how good he still tasted. He was so perfect and his plump lips fit perfectly between yours.

“You could never be sorry for that, baby, because I would rather be here, with you, than out there, with them. I celebrate my success by spending time with you and getting to be happy. Seeing that smile on your face is success enough.” He kissed your lips again and you let it last a little longer this time.

“You’re the best, ever.” You smiled up at him.

“And I thought that was you?”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #finelinevogue #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harrys house #harrys house masterlist #harrys house finelinevogue #harrys house fluff #harry’s house blurbs #harry’s house #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fluff #brixton ono #harry styles ono

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort From a Lamb's Heart

Summary - Part 40 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Back at the hotel, you run Destiny a warm bubble bath and then sit on the end of the bed. Dean sits down beside you and takes your hand in his. 

“What’s going through that pretty head?”

“Just my screw up. And what to do with Destiny. I shouldn’t have, but I…”

“I heard what you told her. We’d look after her…you know we can’t. I had the same thoughts last night, but we can’t. She’s better off with Garth and Bess.”

“Why not? We want a child, she’s not our blood and she’s a werewolf. The demons won’t want her, so we can keep her safe. Raise her as human as possible. Feed her animal meat and train her to be kind. She wants to be kind.”

“She can be. With Garth. I know you want to be a mother, Y/N. And I hope that one day you can be. But it’s not gonna be like this. She’s not the one. Her kind killed your family.”

“I got my revenge for that. And since when have our ancestors' actions defined who we are? I’m not my parents and neither are you.”

“You might not be. But look at me, how am I not?”

“You’re not John, Dean.”

“If something happened to you, I know I would be. In a second I would turn into him.”

“You’re not. I know you don’t believe it. But you would move on. You would get your revenge and then you would move on to the next case. You always do. You’re not your father. Regardless, I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“Alright, fine. But we’re taking a drive to see Garth first. We do what’s best for her, alright?”

You nod and stand up. You knock on the ensuite door before opening it to check on the little girl. You help her out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her to get her dry and warm. 

“Who’s Garth?” She asks quietly. When you struggle to answer she looks away and apologises, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to you talk.”

You kneel down to her height. “No, it’s okay. We should have known about your good hearing. Garth is a friend. He’s a werewolf too. He and his wife are very nice people. We just think it would be a good idea for you to meet them and see how you feel. The next move after that is yours okay? If you feel comfortable with their pack and want to stay you can. If not, you can come home with us. I promised to keep you safe, and I meant it.”

“But Dean…”

“I know. He’s a little rough around the edges. But I promise he won’t hurt you or leave you anywhere you don’t want to be. I know you’re scared of him, he’s scared of your kind and angry about your dad taking me. And I’m sorry about your dad. Dean is too, had he known about you he may have acted differently. But I promise he won’t hurt you.”

She hugs you tight. “I wanna stay with you.”

You wrap your arms around her. “You can. Right now though, let me see if I’ve got anything you can wear tonight and then I’ll send Dean out to get you some new clothes in the morning, okay?”

She nods and you pull away to go look through your bag for a shirt. Back in the main room, you watch as Dean sets up a pillow and blanket on the couch. You hand Destiny one of your shirts and then go over and wrap your arms around Dean’s waist from behind. 

“See. You are paternal.”

“This is for me. You share the bed with her, she’ll be more comfortable that way. What’s best for the child, right?”

You nod against his back. “Right. Speaking of…would you be able to go out and find something for all of us for dinner? And possibly some clothes for her?”

You feel him stiffen a little and then he turns around and pecks your lips. “Sure. I’ll be back soon.” You nod and watch as he gathers his wallet, phone and keys and heads towards the door. As he opens the door he stops briefly, turns back around and says, “I love you.”

You smile and say, “I love you too.” 

Once he’s gone Destiny steps out of the bathroom. Your shirt hangs on her like an extremely oversized dress or a sheet. You give her an apologetic look and pull down the sheets on one side of the bed, encouraging her to climb in as you take a seat on the opposite side. She snuggles up close so you wrap an arm around her shoulders and turn on the TV. You search for a child-friendly program; you end up settling on Scooby Doo, but after watching for a few minutes you start to wonder if a talking dog is really the best idea. You watch her but she’s not really paying attention. Her eyes drift closed, so you help her lay down as you brush your hand through her soft hair, comforting her so she knows she’s not alone. Eventually, you feel your eyes getting heavy again as you struggle to pay attention to the Scooby Gang. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You wake up to the feeling of someone kissing your forehead. “Hey, Baby,” you mumble half-asleep.

“Shhh. Go back to sleep.”

You rub your eyes. “No, it’s okay. I’m starving.”

“Alright then.” Dean stands up, brings over a burger for you and places a glass of water on the bedside table. “I would offer you a beer, but I’m not convinced those roofies have fully worn off yet.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to swear off alcohol,” you reply. He gives you a small, tight smile and returns to the small dining table to eat his own burger. 

“You wanna wake her up? She’s so tiny and malnourished. Who knows when the last time she ate was.”

With your non-burger-grease-covered hand, you pat the little girl’s hair again and then give her shoulder a light but firm squeeze. Once she stirs you give her time to wake up and adjust to her surroundings. Once she seems mostly awake Dean brings over a cardboard takeaway container and places it on the bed in her lap. “I know you’re probably used to the flavour of human hearts. But uh, we don’t want you eating us so…”

“Dean!” You scold. 

“Sorry. The point is, that’s a lamb’s heart, just try to eat it. It was the only type of heart the butcher had.”

She nods and opens up the box. She looks down at the heart and then up at you. She watches as you eat. When you notice her looking at your food you offer her a taste.

“Do you want a taste?”

“Is that human food?” 

You nod. “Yeah, one of many. It’s a burger. You haven’t been around many people have you?”

She shakes her head.

You hand her your burger and she takes a small bite. You and Dean both watch her reaction eagerly. She scrunches her nose up as she forces herself to swallow. 

“That’s ok, we know it’s not what you’re used to. As long as you’re with us you’re welcome to try any human foods, but your body is only really made to eat meat, so we’ll do our best to get you what you need too.” She continues to look at the heart apprehensively, so you reassure her, “You can eat it, it’s okay. It’s not from a human. It’s from the butcher – a meat shop – so Dean didn’t have to kill anything for it.”

“But someone did…” she says sullenly.

You give her a soft look and say, “Unfortunately, yes. That’s how you get meat. But I like to tell myself it’s less wasteful and more humane this way. It’s also the circle of life. You need to eat too.” Then you lean close to her ear and whisper, “And you’re not the only one that needs meat. Dean over there likes to call himself the ‘meatman’.”

“The meatman?” she repeats confused.

Dean shoots you an incredulous glare. “Really, Y/N?”

You smirk back and then return to your burger, hoping Destiny will follow your example and eat as well. She watches you for a few seconds and then sheepishly takes a small bite of the lamb's heart. Blood oozes out of the heart and over her little hands. Dean quickly hands you and her a few napkins from the takeout bag to keep the mess from getting all over the sheets. As she devours the messy organ you can see the appreciation on her face and she starts to look just the slightest bit less pale and ghostly.

Once she’s finished eating she uses the napkins to clean off her hands just as she’d watched you do. “Thank you,” she quietly says while looking directly at Dean. 

Her manners catch him off guard, so he just gives her a small, barely-there smile. Feeling uncomfortable from his lack of reply she looks away and focuses on the napkin in her hands instead. 

Noticing the tension you reach over and place your hand on her forearm. “You’re welcome, Sweetie. Why don’t you go and clean your hands properly in the bathroom? And I don’t know if your dad ever taught you about brushing your teeth or if normal werewolves even do that, but with the new diet, it might be beneficial. There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink in there that you can use with our toothpaste; it’s the pink one.”

She passes you the empty takeout container with the dirty napkin and scampers into the bathroom. Dean gets up and tidies away all of the rubbish before sitting next to you again. 

“I’ve seen all your little looks. I know I’m screwing up. I’m just not…this is difficult for me.”

“Forget who her dad was for a second. Just see her for the child she is.”

“Even then…I’m just not good with-”

“Lord help me if you’re going to try and tell me you’re not good with kids. Who raised Sam, Dean?”

“That’s not-”

“Who raised Sam? He always tells me it wasn’t John. So, who?”

“I was a kid too. I was just doing what I was told. I was just looking after my little brother. This is different.”

“I know it is. But there’s also been the kids on cases, and she was comfortable enough this morning when I woke up. So, you’re doing good. You’re a natural with kids. Just be natural. Be yourself.”

He nods and kisses you softly, but he pulls away when he hears a gasp. 

“Don’t hurt her! Don’t bite her!” Destiny shouts.

Dean quickly pulls back. “I wasn’t. I would never.”

“He wasn’t hurting me. I promise. Dean loves me. Come here,” you say, opening your arms for her to snuggle up close again. She quickly complies and you tuck her in under the blankets. 

Dean pats your leg. “Alright then. If I can’t kiss my wife then I’m gonna go clean up. You two get some rest.”

You watch as Dean disappears into the ensuite. After he closes the door you hear him grumble and Destiny snuggles closer. You can’t help but think that you should’ve helped her with the toothpaste. You silently thank Dean for cleaning up whatever mess she made and then lie down with Destiny. Letting her warmth and the cartoons on TV lull you back to sleep. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 13: Pretending

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 5158 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; verbal fighting; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: Tis the season to be sorry. Fa-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la. Deck the halls in boughs of worry...

Author’s Note: I honestly didn’t purposefully leave you on a cliffhanger for this long. Life and motivation got in the way, you know? But, we’re here now, and we’re heading into the final chapters. They’ll probably be posted slowly too, BUT I am working on something new. It’s a Witch!Reader x Eddie one. V. excited for it.

The large metal drum hadn’t held oil in over a decade. Instead, it was alight more often than not, acting as a constant destroyer of trailer park trash. You tended to avoid it because of the smell. It got bad when people put rubber or roadkill in the flames. All your senses were drowned out by fear and pain though. You couldn’t even smell the smoke that plumed from the drum as your college acceptance letters burned.

Neighbours had been keeping an eye on the commotion that began with the loud voice of Eddie Munson, apparently yelling at his girlfriend. Some thought, that would be right. Others, the ones that knew him better, were confused. Then, it had been Eddie tearing from his trailer and skidding out of the park.

Your sobbing was louder than Eddie’s yelling had been. It went on for what seemed like forever. The silence was short lived, for not long after you appeared and stalked through the park. Past the cheap Christmas lights some residents had strung along trailers and mobile homes. Past the playground and the picnic benches.

At the trash fire, they watched you stand motionless after throwing in a small handful of paper. When you didn’t leave immediately, just stood still and sad in the early evening cold, they stopped watching.

…

When Eddie came home, it was close to midnight. You were back in bed, knocked out by three valium and a badly rolled joint. Wayne had tried to get you to eat, tried to tell you that it would be okay, but you just mumbled something about not being hungry and being sorry, then disappeared back into the bedroom. A sense of small wretchedness and scent of fire was left in your wake.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Wayne demanded, standing as soon as Eddie was through the door.

“I know-”

“No. No, you fucking don’t Eddie. I’ve cleaned up some fucking messes before, but this… What were you thinking?! Were you even thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have said-”

“No. You shouldn’t have. But, fuck… Just leaving her like that? She was in there crying her eyes out for hours. Ran out with her letters. Think she went and burnt them in the pit. Came back smellin’ of smoke… Eddie…”

The disappointment in Wayne’s voice was worse than the look of judgement on his face. Eddie felt like shit, which wasn’t an entirely new state for him, but this was easily the worst it had ever been.

As soon as he left the trailer and hit the road, all the anger had dissipated from Eddie. Shame and regret washed over him. He drove around for hours trying to sort his head out, come up with a good way of explaining himself. There was so much to unpack in his reaction to the acceptance letters, and he lacked the tools to know where to begin.

“I’m sorry,” he told his uncle weakly.

“Not me you should be apologising to,”

“I know… But I am. You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. I’m not a fuckin’ kid anymore,” Eddie said.

Of course, a twenty-year-old will think they’re not a child, but it was more than clear by Eddie’s outburst that he was still a kid, terrified of being unloved and traumatised by abandonment. Wayne took a breath.

“You two never talked about next year?”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t fuckin’ know… Think we both just avoided it?”

“Fat lot of good that did… Girl that smart, working that hard… Did you think she was just gonna get a job at the diner and stay here?”

Yes.

Maybe.

No.

Eddie didn’t know.

“Never again, Ed. You don’t talk to her, or any girl like that. Ever again. You hear me?”

“There’s not…” Not going to be any other girl. It was just you, if he could fix what he’d done.

Eddie nodded and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. His eyes were bloodshot and lips drying, cracks threatening to appear by morning if he didn’t steal some of your lip balm. Wayne thought he looked like a drowned cat, a pitiful creature in need of empathy.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, stepping to his nephew and opening his arms for a hug.

Eddie quickly accepted the invitation, sniffling into Wayne’s collar and trying not to cry again.

“I fucked up,”

“Yeah… But the damage is done. Ain’t nothing you can do ‘bout that now. The future, Eddie. Gotta think about the future,”

“Yeah… Yep. Uh, is she up?”

“No. I checked in on her ‘bout an hour ago. Dead to the world. Think she might have got into your stash, but she’s alright.”

Leaving Wayne in the lounge room, Eddie made his way down the hall and slipped into the bedroom’s darkness.

It was never truly pitch black in the room; the trailer park lights were ever illuminated, and despite the curtains and canvases, Eddie couldn’t keep the light out. In that moment though, he was grateful. He crept over piles of clothes and other things without tripping and slid onto the bed next to you.

You were deep in the throes of a REM sleep nightmare. Eddie could see your eyes move behind your eyelids and your bottom lip quiver. He wanted to wake you, save you from it, but he knew that it was a chemical sleep that would be hard to pierce, and that you’d probably not consider it saving at all.

Eddie laid and watched you for a while. Tears rolled down his cheeks, making the pillow beneath him wet. What would he do if you didn’t forgive him? What would he do if you left in the morning, disappeared to Chicago, and never spoke to him again? The thoughts swirled, making him nauseous and deeply ashamed.

By the time the sun rose over Hawkins and the blackbirds were singing, Eddie had accumulated about an hour of sleep. Minutes caught over the hours. Restless minutes. Cold sweat. Itchy eyes. By 5:00 am, he gave up.

Out in the trailer, he checked in on Wayne. His uncle was sound asleep on the fold-out bed, his usual snores providing the only comfort Eddie had felt in a while. After chugging some orange juice from the jug in the fridge and a visit to the bathroom where he avoided eye contact with himself, he returned to you.

Eddie wanted to snuggle into you. He wanted to wrap himself around your waist and bury his face in your soft tummy. He wanted his girlfriend, the person he loved more than he thought he was capable of. But, he knew he had to wait.

He couldn’t pretend yesterday hadn’t happened.

When your eyes fluttered open, it had just gone 7:00 am. Eddie had picked up a magazine and had been flipping through it for over an hour. The letters kept jumbling and words seemed foreign. The best he could do is stare at the photos. The movement beside him made him freeze.

For a couple of seconds, you had that new day amnesia. Everything was normal for one… two… three… four… oh.

Stretching out, you shook off sleep and sat up. You squinted in the morning light then looked over at Eddie. His big brown eyes were already watching you, waiting for impact. The tension was thick, but rather than it feeling volatile and angry, the room felt miserable.

Slowly, you repositioned yourself to be sitting cross-legged facing Eddie. He was leaning against the wall, a pillow softening the pressure. Although you weren’t sure the best way to say it, you did know what you wanted. Eddie had always understood your vagueness before, so you just hoped he would again.

“Um,” you started but stopped to clear your throat. It felt dry, worn from hours of sobbing.

“Baby-”

“No, just- Um, let me go first,” you interrupted.

Eddie nodded, although shutting up felt bad.

“For my whole life, I’ve just been waiting to get out of Hawkins… Because of, you know, Mum and Dad. And it was like that at the start of the year. College was the best way to get out. I’m smart. I could do it. They’d see it as a good thing. So, that was the plan… But then… this happened and I didn’t need to get out of Hawkins anymore. But I’d already applied for colleges. It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you. We can just… just pretend nothing happened.”

Eddie couldn’t pretend yesterday hadn’t happened. You, on the other hand, most certainly could.

Eddie’s heart broke, for real that time. “Angel… Babe, you don’t have to explain anythin’. Don’t have to say a fucking thing. This is my fault, not yours. You haven’t done anything,”

“No, you don’t get it. I don’t… I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do a weird saying sorry conversation or whatever. I don’t want to go. I don’t want anything to change. So, we’re just gonna pretend, okay?”

Your expression was pure desperation. Eddie felt sick, but he nodded anyway. You let out a deep breath.

“Can I at least say that I’m sorry? I was an asshole. I didn’t mean-” Eddie tried.

“No. ‘Cause nothing happened. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t how Munsons handled their shit. The bad ones, they fought it out. The good ones talked it out. Regardless of the road taken, the destination was the same. At the end of the day, it was all out in the open.

In your house, discretion and secrets were the way of life. All you had known was concealed emotion and folding to avoid conflict. It was so ingrained, that you didn’t really realise it was what you were doing. You knew you loved Eddie and that he was your top priority. In your mind, pretending the day before didn’t happen made sense.

“Okay… Uh, nothing… happened. But you should still think about college,”

“It was only ever a way out,” you said, clearly annoyed that you needed to repeat yourself.

Eddie wanted to cry, but he clenched his jaw and nodded. He was so sure you were going to leave him for Chicago, then leave him for being cruel, so he’d swallow the lie if it kept you close.

“…’Kay… I love you. I’d do anything for you. I’d go anywhere with you. You know that, right?”

“Mmhmm,” you answered, moving onto your knees and wriggling closer to him. “I love you too.”

Finally, after hours and hours and hours, he had you in his arms. Eddie pulled you into his lap and held you tight. When you leaned in against his chest, he rested his head on yours. He could smell smoke in your hair, bitter and telling.

…

The following day, it genuinely felt as if the prior few days happened weeks, months, if not years ago. You’d locked it away entirely, and Eddie was processing his shame in secret minutes here and there. It helped that Wayne had moved on, talking and acting like he hadn’t tried to scoop you back together and hadn’t seen his nephew at his worst.

Wayne’s truck pulled up around 7:00 am. You listened to him put water on for tea and unfold his bed with a metallic creak. Eddie was still asleep, curled around your back with one arm under the pillow your head rested on, and the other lost somewhere between your body and his. He didn’t wake when the shower turned on, the pipes shaking in the walls.

This was Wayne’s routine after a night shift. Shower. Tea. Sleep. Sometimes, like that day, he would softly knock on the bedroom door to check on his kids. The door opened and Wayne’s tired face appeared.

“Anyone awake?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Hey, kid,” Wayne greeted. “You guys got plans today?”

“Uh, Eddie was going to go see Liz about doing some work for them,”

“Who’s Liz?”

“She owns the music store. Not the new one in the mall, the other one,” you told him.

If you were at Starcourt 2.0 Eddie would happily spend time in their music store. The guys knew him. It was as good a place as any to buy manuscript paper or guitar strings. However, Eddie much preferred the shop tucked in one of Hawkins’ shitty strip malls. He claimed it was something about it being a family business and that they knew their stuff.

Wayne snorted. “He’s on nickname basis now is he?”

“Don’t,” Eddie’s croaky voice warned, rising from the sleep-dead.

Wayne chuckled. “Gonna go see your girlfriend today, huh?”

Eddie sat up. “Fuck off.”

You had met Liz. She was older than Wayne, late fifties early sixties. Confused, you asked, “What?”

“I’ve been takin’ him to that store since he was, what, ten? Eleven? Liz was the love of his life for a couple years there,”

“No! She was just nice… Took me seriously!” The high pitch tone in Eddie’s voice was incredibly revealing.

You giggled. “So, this is why you like that store better,”

“It was ‘Eliza says I’m gonna be a rockstar,’ ‘Eliza says my song is good’ all day, every day,”

“Yeah, alright. If we’re fucking done here, I gotta piss,” Eddie mumbled, rolling away from you and getting out of bed. He softly pushed Wayne from the room on his way out.

“What’s she got you doing anyhow?” Wayne asked, the volume of his voice rising to make it through the bathroom door.

“Guy that normally services the guitars is M.I.A. Just gonna look at a couple until she finds someone new,” Eddie called back, shrugging off the thought that a lot of people went M.I.A. in Hawkins.

“Services, huh?” Wayne mocked, looking back into the bedroom to make sure you were in on the joke.

“Ha fucking ha. Grow up, old man.” After the sound of the toilet and sink, Eddie reappeared in the bathroom doorway. “What do you want anyway? Why you hassling me so early?”

“Hassling you? You’re getting’ softer every day… Was just gonna ask if you two had thought about Christmas?”

That gave Eddie pause. No, he hadn’t thought about Christmas. “Babe?” he called.

“Yeah?”

“Christmas?” he repeated, moving to the threshold between the hallway and bedroom.

“Yeah?”

“First Munson Christmas, we going all out? Or, ah, Grinching it?”

Christmas had always been a big deal in your family. Not in a joyful way where everyone got together to exchange thoughtful gifts and eat gingerbread and be filled with merry love. More in the sense that if everything wasn’t perfect for the extended family, you’d be responsible all the way through to New Years. There were expectations about gifts, rules about food, and general misery.

“What do you normally do?” you asked them.

Eddie smiled softly and looked over at Wayne. “We’ve got a few traditions,”

“Okay. Um. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

With a grin on his face, Eddie nodded and climbed back into bed.

“Today then-” Wayne started.

“AH-HAH!” Eddie yelled, almost deafening you in the process. “I knew you wanted something!”

Wayne ignored him, leaned against the door frame, and addressed you like you were the only adult in the room. “If you’ve got some time up your sleeve, might as well head on out to the tree farm. While you’re there, grab an extra for John and drop it off to his. He reckons they don’t fit in his car,”

“Are the kids coming for Christmas?” you asked Wayne, weirdly invested in co-worker John’s life.

“Says he’s ‘negotiating’ with Cath about it,” he replied, making air quotations. “Anyway. The van’s got space,”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll do it,” Eddie agreed.

“Thanks, bud. Gonna go catch some sleep. I’ll see yous later, alright.”

You smiled and nodded, and Eddie said, “Yep, goodnight.”

Eddie pulled you closer as Wayne closed the door, curling himself back around you, re-heating his cold toes and fingers. He kissed your shoulder blade once then twice.

“I’ve never been to the Christmas tree farm,” you told him.

“Really? Thought your parents would fight for the biggest one,”

“No. Mum said having a tree inside was dirty. Like, the sap was sticky and the needles got everywhere. We’ve only ever had the plastic ones. Then she’d just burn scented candles. The ones that smell like the forest or whatever,”

“There’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

…

The air was so cold your breath was visible. Bundled up in the Fangoria hoodie, scarf, and gloves, you still couldn’t stop your teeth from chattering. Undeterred, you jumped from the van and fell in line next to Eddie as you entered the Christmas tree farm.

There were a few families there, and some lone fathers allocated this job and this job alone. Eddie nodded a silent greeting to the man wearing a fluorescent orange vest. He was standing next to a huge table that looked like one solid piece of wood. Saws and power tools were scattered around.

“It smells so clean,” you noted, looking around in awe. You’d never seen so many Christmas trees in one place. They were planted in neat rows, each reaching a different height but all in the same ballpark of household appropriate.

“Wayne didn’t say what size John wanted, did he?”

“Nope… But I think if we get him a small one and the kids do end up coming, he’ll freak out?” you replied.

Eddie snorted. “Fuck. Men and their Christmas tree size insecurities, am I right?” he said, shooting you a silly grin.

The smile on your face filled Eddie with the type of warmth that felt like love. Or maybe it was love that was so deep and visceral, that it took on physical warmth as it flooded his body.

“We only need a small one,” you stated.

“Uh-huh. I’m totally secure in my masculinity. We can get a baby’s first real tree.”

Eddie asked the guy in the vest to cut an average sized tree. You watched as the guy and his sons, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere like bored Indianan teenaged Christmas elves, load it into the van.

The guy seemed disinterested when Eddie said you’d take a little longer to pick the second tree because it was the special one.

“What about this one?” Eddie suggested.

You’d walked the rows once to get an overall sense of what was on offer. The recon lap, Eddie called it. Then, the second time around, you stopped at any trees that had the right vibe, as you called it.

“I don’t like the bark on it,”

“The bark?”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s like… slightly too… crumbly. Like it makes me want to pick it off. But it also makes me feel gross. I don’t like looking at it.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, alright. Fuck this tree and its gross bark… Onwards!”

Another fifteen minutes in the cold and you found the right tree. It was shorter than most of the others in its row – small even by small standards. You and Eddie stood side by side and stared at it.

“It’s small,” he said.

“Yes,” you agreed.

“It has a bald patch,”

“Look,” you pointed at the base. “It’s so sticky looking.”

Eddie crouched and poked at the sap. “Confirmed. Will fuck up the carpet,”

“We can put something down,”

“We’re good with that,” he quipped, looking up at you and winking terribly.

You pulled a face that made him laugh.

“Nobody’s gonna want this one,”

“Guess he’s ours then?” Eddie asked, standing up with a sigh and putting his hands on his hips.

“Uh-huh,”

“Alright. I’ll go get the guy and the children of the corn.”

The van smelt like pine and you felt a bubbliness you weren’t familiar with. “I think I might be excited for Christmas,” you told Eddie as you looked for a good radio station.

“I draw the line at carols and holiday music, if that’s what you’re doing.”

You waited in the van as Eddie knocked on John’s door. Through the fogged glass, you watched them converse. When that got boring, you drew hearts and other shapes into the condensation.

“So, it would just be Cath and the kids, you know? Eve’s keeping the bar open, so she won’t be there. Their parents will still be on their cruise. So, the way I see it is that it makes sense for them to come here, you know?” John was mid-speech when Eddie opened the van’s back doors and began to unload the tree.

“Who’s Eve?” Eddie asked, mostly because he couldn’t think of anything else to say and he generally didn’t agree with people for the sake of it.

“Cath’s sister. Nothing like Cath. Chalk and cheese, you know? She’s, ah, always done her own thing. She’s got a bar in Chicago. Real unsavoury place, you know? Wouldn’t want the kids hanging around there,”

“Right,” Eddie replied, huffing a little when John didn’t take the lead on carrying the tree inside.

“Anyway. Reckon I’m in with a good chance of getting them. The kids, I mean. I’ll do the right thing, invite Cath. Maybe they’ll see what I’ve made of the place, you know, with the treehouse Wayne helped with,”

“Sure,”

“Anyway. Let’s get this inside. I’ll show you where I want it. Oh! Who’s this?! Hello!”

John caught you peaking around the seat to see him in all his divorcee glory. You waved.

“Wayne said you found yourself a nice girlfriend. Good for you, son.”

Eddie threw you a look and you just shrugged at him. It took another ten minutes for Eddie to get the tree inside and then escape the clutches of John’s external-internal monologue.

“Jesus Christ! I don’t fucking know how Wayne does that?!” Eddie exclaimed when he got back behind the wheel. “What the absolute fuck?”

You laughed. “Yeah… Like, Wayne probably just sits there and tunes out?”

“Yeah. Jesus… Fuck, alright… Home. Let’s get this sticky baby home.”

…

“So… Are we gonna talk about it?”

“About what?” you replied, playing dumb. Gaze set firmly on the deep purple colour your freshly manicured nails were being painted.

“Eddie told Jeff…” Esther paused, waited to see if that would prompt you. Nothing. “About the acceptance letters. And how you’re saying you don’t wanna go,”

“I don’t,”

“Right. Sure. The thing is though that nobody believes that,”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going.”

The nail tech told you to put your nails under the UV lamp to cure. Glancing over at Esther, you smiled at her Barbie pink nails, then watched her sigh. She was pretty used to your stubbornness. Maybe not to the same extent as Eddie, but like him, she understood you were doing what you were raised to do.

“You know that you’re going to regret this, right? And one day you might blame Eddie,”

“Why would you say something like that?” you asked, wounded.

“Because that’s what happens. I mean, shit, how many of us have parents that are still together and are actually in love? All the mums hate the dads for getting to have a career while they were stuck at home. All the dads hate the mums for not being twenty-one anymore… Seriously, if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to go to college, and you don’t do it, you’ll grow up and be old and wonder why you chose a boy over yourself.”

Your mind went on the defense immediately. What did Esther know about unhappy marriages? What did she know about you or Eddie or any of it? Even through that though, you knew she was right, but you stuck to the safety zone of denial.

“I get it, Esther, but that’s not me. That’s not what’s gonna happen. And Barnes & Noble are opening at the mall, so I’ll apply there. I love books so it’s perfect. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

With your nails finished, you and Esther headed out the salon door and walked the sidewalk half a block to get to the hairdressers.

The conversation grew lighter, focusing on your upcoming nineteenth birthday. You’d always hated birthdays, the parties your mother threw fake and self-serving. The gifts from so-called friends unfitting and void of real love. Maybe 1986 would be different.

“So, what are we doing?” the hairdresser asked after she’d washed your hair, massaging her fingertips into your scalp with expert pressure.

Esther was perched on the empty chair next to you. She looked from her reflection, from her dark coils and volume to you, eager to hear your decision too.

“A change,” you announced. “Something different.”

A good daughter had her hair the way her mother wanted it to be. A good daughter never asked her father for permission to get anything different. A good cheerleader looked like the girls in the magazine. A good girl didn’t get something different.

The hairdresser made a happy squeaking sound. Hawkins wasn’t known for its radical hairstyles and she was grateful to do anything other than perms and tints. “Let’s do it!”

…

He’d been at it for almost an hour. Nervous that you’d come home early, Eddie was standing in the trailer pacing the small circle the phone’s cable would allow. After someone accidentally hung up on him, he’d had to start the process all over again.

Finally,

“Yes. Still here… … No, no, I’m not- Uh… … Sorry, but… … No, she already got accepted… … Yes! … Yeah, yeah, she got the letter and everything. It just got… um, misplaced. My fault. Spring cleaning, you know… …  Actually, can you send it to a different address? We’re, um, in the middle of moving…”

It was the first step in a plan he wasn’t sure he could pull off, but he’d die trying.

…

After nails and hair, you and Esther tried the new Japanese restaurant. “Sushi places are everywhere in Chicago,” she’d told you, showing you how to use chopsticks.

The rest of the day was spent in Esther’s bedroom, where you watched her go through her entire wardrobe. “The deal is if I donate five things, they’ll get me something new.”

Esther and her family remained a fascinating case study for you. They were forming part of the blueprint in your mind for what a cohesive and supportive unit should be – underpinned by ethics and culture, willing to compromise, and above all else, full of unconditional love.

Esther dropped you home around 4:30 pm, leaving you to pull yourself onto the little porch and use the second entrance to go inside. Wayne was asleep in the lounge room, getting some rest before his night shift.

A small knock on the bedroom door to announce yourself, and you found Eddie sitting on the floor, notebooks and paper surrounding him. He looked up at you and smiled wide, taking off his headphones that were plugged into the amp.

“Woahhhhh,” he said in awe.

“Good woah?”

“The best. You look fuckin’ awesome,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, angel… It’s very you,” Eddie added, scrunching his nose and smiling. He held up his arms and twinkled his fingers at you. Happy, you dropped to your knees and crawled into his lap. He ruffled your hair with his hands. “You smell fancy,” he commented.

“Salon shampoo,”

“Smells like… flowers.”

Eddie smooshed his face into your hair, then pressed a messy kiss to your cheek. For a while, you stayed on the floor, watching Eddie’s hand drawn music notes dance across the page. When sounds of Wayne became audible, you both ventured out into the lounge.

“This sad little thing’s been sitting here too long. ‘Bout time we decorate it?” Wayne asked.

The Christmas tree had been sitting in the corner of the living room for a couple of days, waiting until all three of you were home at the same time. As it happened, it was the first of December and Wayne had a few hours before he needed to head off.

Eddie sat at the base of the tree, handing you ornaments from the one box of Munson decorations. A majority of them were handmade and from Eddie’s childhood; you listened to Wayne talk about them while he untangled string lights. 

The crowning jewel of the tree was an angel. Its dress was a cone made of cardboard. Messy glitter glue had been painted across it. Her head was a foam ball with a terrifying smile drawn on it by five-year-old Eddie.

“I love her,” you said, holding the precious thing in your hands.

“My second favourite angel,” Eddie joked.

You laughed and placed her on top of the tree. “What’s next?”

Lights and tinsel, then the tradition of taking some of the mug collection down to replace with the Christmas themed mugs.

“I get him one every year,” Eddie explained.

You counted ten, then imagined ten-year-old Eddie picking one out for his uncle.

“That first one was from the second hand place over in Lafayette. Said he wanted to get me something, so I gave him five bucks and sent him in. Came out with that all wrapped up in old newspaper,” Wayne recounted fondly.

As you sat on the couch and watched Eddie and Wayne try to put the mugs in chronological order, arguing about Christmases gone by, your mind drifted. No doubt, there were arguments happening at your old home too, but they weren’t about memories and love.

You were grateful to be where you were. Grateful and safe. Safe and happy. Happy and loved. It was all too much to risk. Even if the risk was one of a better life beyond Hawkins. All those thoughts were getting buried deeper each day. And yet, it was still only a shallow grave.

…

“Have you tried just telling them the truth?”

Eddie rolled his eyes at Wayne, who was quick to take the cap off his head and throw it at Eddie.

“Hey!” Eddie picked the cap up off the floor and put it on. He looked ridiculous. “My lies are good. The truth sounds like I’m just some insane stalker trying to control her whole life.”

Wayne raised his eyebrows.

“Fuck off,” Eddie deadpanned and threw the cap back at his uncle. “I have a plan… It’s just… a lot of moving parts, alright?”

“Yeah, well, here’s my part.” Wayne fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. “John says the best time to call is afternoon. After lunch, before knock off,”

“Okay,” Eddie said, taking it and looking down at the phone number. “Eve,” he read.

“Yep. John said I owe him for making him ask Cath a favour,”

“John said you owe him? Starting to see why Cath left him,” Eddie replied, a smirk on his face.

Wayne just shook his head and headed off down the hall for a shower.

Eddie scoffed again. Goddamn John finally coming in handy for once.

Next Chapter: 14 - Nineteen

End Note: What is our dear Eddie up to? So many phone calls? A plan? Moving parts? I’m letting you in on small snippets of what Eddie’s doing while you’re out and about. Consider them breadcrumbs, and ones much more reliable than a Netflix profile pic’s background colour or the name of a show’s episode…

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart have you changed your URL? @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @thescarletangelsstuff @mrsdollardog @tayhar811 @chickennug90 @b-irock

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (19)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy knows that her recovery won’t be quick, and she now has another decision to face. 

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in.

This chapter hits on a little bit of a nerve and I kinda went into a lot of depth about Amy's past relationship which was always written to reflect a bad relationship I had. So, with that, a lot of me comes out in this chapter, which I apologise for.

Lucas and Amy both snuggled into bed together that Christmas Eve morning. Lucas was scheduled to work from Christmas Day afternoon, and then Amy would work on Boxing Day. Idly, the two of them began to kiss, which then turned into a round of slow love making. 

By mid-afternoon, Amy was awake, and was in the kitchen, preparing a dinner for that evening while both of them were home together. Lucas was still sleeping when her phone rang. 

“Hello?” she asked as she saw Ruth Evershed’s name flash on the screen. 

“Hi, Amy,” Ruth replied. “I hope I didn’t disturb you. Debrief tonight at six. Just dial into Teams; Harry will be sending the invites out to everyone over email. Did you get much rest?” 

“I got a few hours in. Lucas is still asleep, and I’m putting the dinner on for later. It’s the only time that both of us will be here over Christmas, so we’re having our meal tonight. How about you?” 

“I can never sleep much after operations. I don’t sleep well normally, so I’ve been awake since. And then I’m back on shift tomorrow morning.” 

Lucas stepped into the kitchen, yawning, and flicked on the kettle for a cup of tea. Meanwhile, Amy was finishing her call with Ruth. 

“Debrief tonight at six, over Teams,” Amy explained. 

“Fair enough. Cuppa?” 

“Please.”

The rest of the day passed with no incident. Amy dished up their dinner at seven, once the debrief had finished. 

“Is it okay?” she asked, watching Lucas for a few seconds as he chewed on a roast potato. 

“It’s lovely.” 

“This is my first Christmas dinner away from the family,” Amy explained. “Last year I went back to Coventry over Christmas. This is the first Christmas I’ve spent here, and it feels a little bit weird. But in a good way. Every year I spent Christmas with Mum and Dad.” 

Lucas reached across and took Amy’s hand in his. “This is the first Christmas that I haven’t been alone in about ten years.” He looked at Amy, seeing her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Amy demanded. “If I’d have known then I’d have made everything more special.” 

“Everything about this year has been special. Every day since February the twentieth has been special.” 

Amy giggled to herself and then looked back towards Lucas. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He’d remembered the one important date, the day that had been the start of it all: their first kiss. Amy thought back to that evening, when they had finally been able to spend time together. None of the times apart in between mattered; when Lucas had distanced himself after their first few times of intimacy, worried that he would never be able to fully commit to her. Then when Sarah had approached Amy, trying her best to blow apart the relationship. The only thing that mattered was the start of it all. And now. 

***

Early morning on New Year’s Eve and Lucas drove himself and Amy up to Coventry. The two of them had a week off; seven whole days to enjoy each other’s company. At around nine, Lucas pulled into a motorway service station for a quick break, and brought himself and Amy a large coffee each. 

As the two of them walked hand in hand back to the car, Amy spoke. “I want to tell Mom and Dad what I do for a living. I hate the thought of lying to them. I know we’re not meant to tell people, but protocol says immediate family can be told.” 

“Aim, it’s your choice. I can’t tell you what to do.” 

“And I won’t tell them about you. I suppose I could just tell them I saw the advert and applied. It’s not that insane to believe, is it? I don’t want to draw you in if it’s something you’re not comfortable with.” 

Lucas sighed. “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, Aim. I really like your parents, and they’re good people. I think I worry they might accidentally say something to someone else. It’s easily done; you start talking and before you know it you’ve dropped something out that should be kept quiet.” 

They both approached the car and stood either side of it, hovering by the doors. “I won’t say anything then,” Amy said, looking away. “They both still think I’m at the JobCentre, and you’re with the police, so I’ll just keep that story going.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, Lucas noticed. Every now and again, his steel blue gaze drifted over towards Amy. But whenever he looked at her, she was staring blankly out of the window. “Aim, talk to me,” he began. “You’ve been quiet ever since the service station. Don’t be upset with me about what I said. I don’t think you always see the risks with doing what we do.” 

“I do see the risks, Lucas. Very much so.” Amy’s voice was sharp. “Please don’t talk down to me.” 

“I’m not talking down to you. I’m trying to remind you…”

“You’re trying to remind me of how stupid I am…”

“No!” Lucas snapped. “That’s not what I’m trying to remind you of. For fuck sake. Whenever have I ever treated you like you’re stupid or implied that you are?” 

Amy blushed, feeling her eyes sting with tears and focused on the passing hedgerows. The blur of green hues calmed her, bringing her back to some kind of grounding. “Just forget I said what I did.” 

Lucas looked over at her sadly and reached for her hand which was on her thigh. “You think so little of yourself sometimes, and of me.” 

Amy could feel his fingers tighten around her hand, and it made a swirl of emotion flood to her chest. 

***

For the first time in quite a few years, Amy had someone to kiss at midnight. She stood on the back door of her parents’ house, her arm loose around Lucas’ waist, joined by the rest of the family. Fireworks burst open in the night sky, illuminating the black backdrop with a whole rainbow of colours. Amy kissed Lucas, quietly wishing him a happy new year, and then watched him smile at her.

Sharon Holland, Amy’s mother, couldn’t help but watch her youngest daughter. The love radiated between Amy and Lucas, and she smiled. Finally her daughter was happy and in the arms of a man who was openly ready to show his love. Sharon couldn’t remember any time that Adam had ever held Amy so tight and looked into her eyes with such adoration. 

Leah and Ruth, Amy’s sisters, sat a few feet away on the garden patio table, drinking glasses of wine, while their partners jostled playfully for position of head firework lighter. Amy’s nephew, Thomas, was busy playing with his new handheld video game, not paying much attention to the fireworks. 

By just after one in the morning, Ruth and Leah had left. Lucas and Richard, Amy’s father, were having a drink in the living room, while Amy sat alone with Sharon. By now and Amy had changed into her pyjamas and slippers and was stood in the kitchen, pouring two mugs of tea. 

“I want to talk to you about something, Mum,” Amy announced, carrying two mugs of tea to the table. “I just can’t keep secrets from you, no matter how hard I try. Lucas didn’t want me to say anything, and it’s for a good reason.”

“Oh,” Sharon said simply. 

Amy noticed her mother’s eyebrows furrow. “Please don’t think bad of Lucas. You’ll see why it’s awkward. I may as well just say it: I work for MI-5.” 

Sharon couldn’t help but smile. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“No, I just…I couldn’t imagine you doing that, but at the same time, it’s such a good fit for you. And, I’m guessing Lucas does, too?” 

Amy glanced at the doorway and then back toward her mother. “He didn’t want me to say anything. We’re not really meant to, but it was through him that I got the job. They recruited me. Remember when I got shot?” 

“Um, as if I could forget?” Sharon scoffed. 

“The shooter was connected to a case.” Amy glanced at the floor, knowing that her last sentence was a lie. Sarah was more than connected to MI-5 cases; she was Lucas’ ex and a CIA agent. If Amy told her mother of the true identity of the shooter, how would that impact her view of Lucas? Amy would never want any kind of division between her fiancée and her family. She wanted everything to be perfect, unblemished, untainted. 

“Please be careful,” Sharon said. She looked at Amy, her dark eyes full of concern and love. “We could have lost you back in August, love. And now you’re doing this?”

“It’s an analyst role. I don’t go out on surveillance. That’s what Lucas does. But please don’t tell him I’ve told you. We’re told not to tell people because we can be compromised, and we can put our loved ones in danger. But I couldn’t lie to you. You’re the last person in the world I’d ever lie to.” 

“Don’t you think Lucas deserves that privilege, too?” 

Amy lay in bed, the clock showing that it was three in the morning. Lucas was asleep next to her, on his side, facing away. In the dark and she could just make out the dark lines of the tattoos on his back. Dum Spiro Spero. The Latin words were at the very top of his back, at the base of his neck. Amy remembered asking him what it meant. While I live, I hope. 

Amy slid out of bed and wondered downstairs, heading into the kitchen for another cup of tea. She was wide awake now, her mind ablaze with memories of her former life, the life before Lucas and MI-5. Her dark times. When Lucas had been in prison and had those words, Dum Spiro Spero, etched into his skin, that was his darkest time. But he had still lived in hope. He had still hoped that he would one day live days of love, laughter and peace. And so had Amy. No one had ever seen the pain during all those years she spent in a loveless relationship, yearning for someone to truly love her. Lucas had endured physical torture, while she had endured emotional torture. She had been denied not only love, but time and effort. Adam walked the walk, but had never talked the talk. Only one person had ever seen it. Sharon. The person who knew Amy better than anyone and she had seen the distance in her daughter’s relationship. She had seen the times they would be out as a couple, and walk separately, not hand in hand. The times she had spoken to Amy, hearing the crack in her voice, when it was announced that Adam would not be joining them for a gathering. Or if he did join for a gathering, he was more interested in everyone else’s company, but Amy’s. Then tonight, as everyone gathered in the garden to watch the fireworks, Lucas held Amy close to him. Lucas wasn’t ashamed to be seen holding Amy; he wanted to be close to her every second of the day. 

Would Amy ever truly believe that Lucas loved her? She tried to. She knew she adored him, but to think that he might feel the same was alien to her. The mental memories of Adam were becoming warped by time, but the emotional memories were still vivid. 

Amy took her cup of tea back up to her old bedroom, which was now the guest room. As she entered, she could hear Lucas mumbling. She placed the mug down on the bedside table and slipped back under the duvet, shifting over to Lucas, where she lay behind him. “It’s okay,” she whispered. Her arm draped over him and she clung to him, resting her chin on his shoulder, where she kissed his bare skin.

Lucas moaned again and began to jolt. 

“Shhh,” Amy cooed. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.” 

Lucas began to jolt more, his body growing rigid and then small movements bursting every few seconds. 

Amy gently pulled him over on to his back, but as she did so, he began to call out.

“Lucas?” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up, sweets. It’s okay.” 

Lucas’ eyes shot open and he looked at Amy, startled. But as recognition poured into his gaze, his body grew limp and he smiled. “Aim, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I haven’t woke anyone up, have I?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you did. Are you alright?” 

Lucas didn’t answer but shifted over and kissed Amy. The kiss grew deeper and Amy fell down into the mattress, her back flat. Lucas rose over her and then allowed the kiss to become slow, only a series of pecks. He rested his head on her shoulder. “Why do you insist on putting up with me?” 

“I could very well ask you the same question,” Amy giggled. 

“I don’t put up with you. I’m privileged and blessed to wake up next to you every morning.”

Amy knew she couldn’t hold any secrets from Lucas. Her mother was right; Lucas deserved to always be told the truth. “I told Mum about my job.” 

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the reaction. 

***

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#Lucas North #Spooks #MI-5 #Richard Armitage #Lucas North x OC #Fanfiction #Lucas North Fanfiction #Spooks Fanfiction

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

When Chaos Met Love: Redemption

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

“You’re supposed to be doing amusement part things when you’re at Coney Island. Not supposed to sit on a bench and lurk on the passers-by,” Alec slides next to Magnus on the bench, maintaining a respectable amount of distance between the two, even though the urge, like always, has to just sit as close to the other man as possible. “It’s creepy.”

Magnus’s lips curl upwards slightly, “It’s creepy when insanely attractive people in black leather clothes lurk around. I lurk in style.”

It’s always easy to fall back into their usual banter, but something flashes across Alec’s face in an instant, and it hardens.

“Why did you call me here?”

Magnus sighs, knowing it’s not going to be easy to get Alec to understand. Not after all the pain he’s caused the man.

He turns his eyes towards the man and it seems like Alec has aged a decade in the past few weeks.

The beautiful shadowhunter seems so bereft of any hope in his face that it crushes against his chest.

“How are you doing, Alec?” Magnus asks, fully knowing the answer, waiting for Alec to scoff or chide at the question.

But none of that comes, only painful resignation in the man’s voice.

“I’m okay,” Alec replies, and Magnus almost wishes that the man had said something mean to him.

“Thank you for meeting me.”

“Have you really been coming to all the places for the entire week?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I had to make amends.”

“You don’t,” Alec sighs. “I hurt you. You hurt me. we’re even.”

The words hurt more than Magnus could possibly imagine—the implication that the two of them keep scores now, on which one of them hurt the other better.

And that Magnus is winning.

A painful noise leaves his mouth at the words, and Alec tilts his head to look at him.

“Magnus? Are you okay?”

Stop being so good.

“I—I…” he tries and fails. “Yeah. I’m okay. You shouldn’t be asking me that. It should be the other way around.”

Alec gives him a sad smile, “I’ll always want to know how you’re doing, Magnus. I can’t help it.”

There’s a question at the top of his lips, and he doesn’t want to ask, but it escapes him regardless, “Are you still mad?"

That night outside the club, Alec sounded crushed and devastated.

It’s reasonable if Alec is still mad.

"There are a lot of things I feel right now but anger isn't one of them."

Three small kids, two boys and a girl probably under the age of 10, come running towards the bench where they sit and then apologise. “Sorry,” they mutter sheepishly and leave.

The girl, the youngest out of them, stays and pushes a flower in Alec’s hand before she leaves, and the action finally—finally pulls a smile on Alec’s face.

“Why aren’t you going on any rides? Parks aren’t built to talk,” the girl comments.

Alec chuckles at that and pulls her close, conspiringly, “He’s scared of rides so I’m keeping him company.” He replies, pointing towards Magnus.

Magnus smiles at that. Alec’s always been a little shit.

The girl giggles and then leaves a few seconds later. The second she leaves, so does the smile on Alec’s face, and Magnus is left with the shell of a man he created.

Then it’s suddenly too much, too much of everything—of pain, loneliness and guilt, and then he’s bursting in front of Alec.

“It wasn’t revenge.”

Alec raises an eyebrow.

“All the things I did. All of it. It wasn’t because I was mad at you for the Camille thing. That’s not why I did it.”

The shadowhunter should disagree with that, but he doesn’t. The words are entirely different from what Magnus expects.

“I figured.”

Magnus frowns in confusion, “What?”

Alec fidgets with his fingers as he speaks, “I might not know everything about you but I know enough. I know you, Magnus. You’re not cruel. You do not really believe in revenge. I figured that for whatever reason you did all of it, revenge couldn’t be one of them.”

He all but chokes at the words because there had been days in the past few weeks where he himself had convinced himself that he did it out of revenge.

But Alec always sees him.

“I thought that the man who let the woman who kidnapped and tried to kill him, raised Asmodeus to sacrifice him go couldn’t possibly hate me so much that he had to do all of this,” Alec continues, “or so I think.”

Losing any ability to control himself and craving to touch Alec, he takes his hand in his and squeezes it tightly, “I don’t hate you. I never did. You have got it all wrong and I—“

“Then why, Magnus?” Alec mumbles, “What could you have possibly gotten out of it? I have thought of so many possibilities but none of them make sense.”

They wouldn’t

Whatever you’re thinking wouldn’t make sense because you’ve always underestimated your place in my life.

“It doesn’t really make sense but I—“

Before he can finish, Alec clutches his hand and mumbles, “Ravener demons.”

Magnus’s eyes widen as it trails where Alec just pointed out.

The two of them run towards a secluded area so that they can glamour themselves. Magnus snaps his fingers and summons Alec’s bow and arrows, and the shadow hunter mutters a thank you.

“Stupid demons and their timings.”

“I’ll lure them out,” Alec announces and moves towards the raveners to lure them away from the crowd towards the back alley.

“You’re not going to call backup? There’s like dozens of them?” Magnus raises an eyebrow. It’s not that he thinks Alec and he can’t defeat the horde, but Alec usually calls backup in such situations.

“Don’t need to,” He replies and moves ahead. “Why? You scared?”

Magnus rolls his eyes, fully knowing Alec is challenging him and taking the bait.

It’s been a while since they have fought together anyways.

He straightens his coat, and in an instant, blue sparks fly from his fingers.

He throws a ball of magic at the demon ahead and watches as it splinters across. Alec rolls his eyes and launches three arrows at once, hitting all three in the right places.

“Show off!”

More ravagers demons appear suddenly, and Alec groans before jumping towards them.

Magnus opposes the idiocy.

Alec is always competent in the field, but there’s a reckless quality to the way he runs headrest into danger right now, as if he doesn’t really care about the consequences, and the realisation acts like ice-cold water over him.

A ravener demon rushes towards Alec, but Magnus yells and attacks it before it can reach the shadow hunter.

“Alexander!!!”

Alec turns at the name and frowns at Magnus before continuing to attach the rest of the demons.

The next fifteen minutes are quite possibly the longest fifteen minutes of his life, spent entirely focused and shouting at Alec—asking him to not act like an idiot.

When all the demons are vanquished, Magnus breathes heavily and clutches Alec by his sweater and pulls him against himself, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

The shadowhunter has the audacity to look confused, “What?” “What the hell was that, Alec? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I was trying to kill those demon and save everyone else’s ass.”

There’s a fire in Alec’s eyes, and it mirrors his own. He’s still breathing heavily at the implication of what Alec’s been doing.

It’s not very Alec-y.

It’s something Jace used to do.

Before everything.

When he cared a little about his life.

“That wasn’t you saving anyone’e ass. If I wasn’t here, you’d be dead ten times over,” He yells, his face entirely too close to Alec, still clutching onto his sweater.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Alec says sharply.

“My problem?”

“Yes. Why the fuck do you even care?”

Magnus is taken aback at the question—at all the accusations of him not caring about Alec and he finally—-finally speaks his truth.

“You fucking moron, why do I care?” He groans and gently shoves at Alec’s chest, “All I do is care about you.”

Alec let out a laugh at that, “Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

He raises a hand to stop Alec, “I love you. I am so in love with you that it has driven me insane and made me into this person I don’t recognise anymore.” Magnus watches Alec’s eyes widen at the words, “I have been doing all these shitty things, ruining your dates and threatening people so that they can’t come close to you, all because I cannot stomach the idea of you being with anyone else.”

He creates some distance between them, running his hands through his hair in frustration, not finding the right words. Something beautiful, something poetic to express all the love he has inside of him for Alec.

“If you or anyone thinks I did it because of revenge then you couldn’t be more wrong. There is not a single bone in my body that could ever hate you and neither do I want to. It didn’t matter how painful being away from you has—I would never want that love to be turned into hate. I love you. I loved you a year ago when we were the happiest in Paris, and I loved you six months ago when I broke up with you and I love you right now and I know it in my heart that as long as I have magic in my veins, I will love you, Alexander Gideon Lightwood.”

When he finishes, he’s breathing heavily, suddenly exhausted of all the feelings, but there’s also relief coursing through him.

It had been so hard to pretend to not be in love with Alec Lightwood.

“You can forgive me for what I did or not. But don’t you ever dare do something like this again in the field. Because if something ever happened to you, it would break more than just my heart.”

There’s pin-drop silence for a moment—for a lot of moments.

Before Alec finally speaks, “You love me?”

everyone go say thank you to anh for this chaotic series @carelessflower

PART VIII

#okay its happy ending homies #these idiots are back together i might do a last part or might not #everyone say thank u to anh #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec fics

[ghosts-of-love]

⭐I'd love to hear more about the confession scene from Lost Then Found!⭐

ooooh okay interesting!! 💕💕 I’ll just have a little read of it now and write my thoughts:

i was sooo desperate for the Captain to have a little rom-com moment – running through the rain to go and talk to Pat – it’s like he’s spent the whole fic thinking he’s in a tragedy and now he’s finally aware of the genre lol idk)

“Pat I’ve been a fool” and “God, I’ve been so blind.” were meant to echo things that Lizzy Bennet says in Pride and Prejudice 2005 :))))) I can’t find any clips of them though :( and then the moving forward and hesitating is meant to be Mr Darcy-esque.

Despite the initial rom-com-ness of the opening, i did also want them to be emotionally mature about everything, especially after the Captain was so quick to react the day before, i wanted things to feel like they'd really slowed down.

Cap taking the time to walk around his kitchen and remind himself of what makes it his house. The mantra of ‘this is my house and he won’t make me leave’. Just knowing that he’s safe enough with Pat to not start the conversation right away.

I think I remember that I wanted the overarching feeling to be like, relief basically. Relief that they’re on the same page, that they can both be honest, that they both understand where the misunderstanding after Pat’s attempt at a kiss came from.

There’s also a sort of mutual understanding that this relationship will not just fix the Captain immediately. You can tell that from the chapters following where he’s still so unsure of himself, and so worried that he’s being clingy. You can also see it in the one shot ‘two steps on the water’.

The KISS being on Pat’s hand (the one that punched Julian) showing Cap’s attention to detail – that he remembers which hand – and that he wants to show Pat how much that meant to him. And also show him that things are making a lot more sense to him, and that he realises that Pat was probably in love with him even back then. This later gets confirmed for him.

“Ted.” Not to be silly with it amongst the emotion but you know if Pat had an ounce less sense he’d have sucked Cap sloppy style at the kitchen table right then and there. Thank god he knew how important it was to let Cap speak.

I also needed them both to apologise to each other – they both had a hand in the misunderstanding. Pat for being impulsive, Cap for not listening to any explanation. They can’t start a relationship on that kind of footing.

I think the early sort of ‘setting some parameters and asking about boundaries’ helps Pat realise the kind of work they’ll have to put in eg. “Can I - can I hug you? And things like that?” and “You can’t kick me out in the morning if we’re in my own home, after all.”. it makes him sad but also grateful because I think he realises that Cap could have very easily come to a different conclusion after his session with Alison and decided he wasn’t ready for a relationship.

I had considered that as an option actually. And then something a couple of months down the line would have changed Cap’s mind/helped him realise he was ready. But I decided I had put him through enough, actually, and he deserved to know he was loved.

GOD Pat just knowing Cap so well by this point and knowing that they definitely shouldn’t rush into anything physical – even if Cap consents, he might not be doing it for the right reasons and he might regret it. Sensible guy, love u patty cakes.

I just really enjoy how much they say they love each other in this chapter too!! also then doing relationshippy things/ Cap experiencing them for the first time. Having Pat cook him dinner, brushing their teeth in front of the mirror together, fucking SPOONING!!

in short: I love them

fanfic writers: director's cut

#ask games!! #fanfic writers: director's cut #lost then found #bbc ghosts #patcap

[ibijau]

The Fake dating to real marriage pipeline pt 3 / On A03

Even as he rang the doorbell to Jin Zixuan’s house, Lan Xichen still couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to be there. While waiting at the door, he still felt the impulse to leave, certain that Nie Huaisang could invent an excuse for him. But just as he thought that, Nie Huaisang wrapped both of his arms around one of Lan Xichen's, preventing him from running away. 

"It will be okay," Nie Huaisang said, more gentle than he usually was. "YaoYao knows better than to start shit in his brother's house, he's too terrified of the trouble he'd get in with his father to ever embarrass XuanXuan."

"I know."

"Unless you speak to him first, he shouldn't speak to you," Nie Huaisang insisted, huddling closer. "And anyway I'm going to stay with you, and I promise I'll make sure you have a great time. Even if I talk with others, I'll keep an eye on you the whole time we’re here, and we’ve already agreed we’re not staying late. I'll intervene if he tries anything. I'm not throwing you to the wolf, Xichen-ge."

Somehow, hearing this did help Lan Xichen relax. Of course Nie Huaisang had repeatedly promised everything would be fine, and Lan Xichen himself knew enough about Meng Yao to expect no public scandal, let alone in circumstances where Meng Yao’s conduct would be judged so negatively, but he still couldn’t help feeling anxious. If it had been up to him, he just would have avoided being anywhere near Meng Yao for the rest of his life… but apparently that was ‘letting Meng Yao win’, and so naturally Nie Huaisang disagreed.

“Hey, tomorrow I’ll get you breakfast, okay?” Nie Huaisang insisted, a little more serious than Lan Xichen was used to. “As an apology for putting you through that.”

“Well, we’re still in time to leave if you really feel that sorry,” Lan Xichen remarked. “Especially since you’re not home tomorrow, are you?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced at the reminder that he’d agreed to accompany his brother to visit some relatives. That had been planned long before the party, but Nie Huaisang had offered to cancel and stay with Lan Xichen instead, to help him recover. Lan Xichen had been touched by the offer, even knowing that Nie Huaisang didn’t particularly care for his family aside from his brother, and thus had probably been looking for excuses to cancel that since the moment he’d agreed to it.

“Well, I’ll still get you breakfast when I’m back,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “And a good dinner too. But no, I’m not letting you run away from this. I think it’ll be good for you. It’ll help you see even more what sort of a person he is. Anyway, too late to run now.”

Proving his point, the door opened at last, and a radiant Jiang Yanli greeted them. She apologised for the wait, explaining she had mistaken the doorbell for Jin Zixuan's phone. Nie Huaisang assured her it was no issue at all and hugged her close to prove it, before lamenting that he couldn't congratulate her when she'd settled for someone like Jin Zixuan. Lan Xichen, a little more polite, did offer his congratulations to Jiang Yanli, after which they were both ushered inside to go join the other guests.

Everyone had already arrived before them, most of them hanging out in the living room, because of course Nie Huaisang firmly believed in being fashionably late. A few of those people Lan Xichen recognised. Most, he did not. But one person caught his attention above anyone else, standing next to Jin Zixuan, a glass of coke in his hand, a calm and gentle expression on his face.

Lan Xichen saw Meng Yao, and froze on the spot, unable to take another step.

It had been easy to be over Meng Yao from a distance, away from the charm he radiated. But seeing him again, the dimples on his face as he smiled, the warmth in his voice when he spoke, even just the glimpse of his wrists at the edge of his shirt when he moved, everything conspired to remind Lan Xichen of how madly he’d been in love with that man, how desperately he’d wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. Even after everything that had happened, a small part of Lan Xichen couldn’t help hoping that Meng Yao would realise the error of his ways, that he’d beg for forgiveness. If he did, Lan Xichen might not have the strength to deny that forgiveness, no matter how deeply Meng Yao had hurt him.

Perhaps Nie Huaisang guessed his thoughts. The arm wrapped around Lan Xichen’s tightened, either in comfort or as a warning.

“XuanXuan, congratulations on the engagement!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, never letting go of Lan Xichen. “I can’t believe you’re going to be the first of us to get married.”

“And who else would it have been?” Jin Zixuan scoffed, amused. “You? You, who had to invite your brother’s best friend to this party because you couldn’t find a real date?”

“Rude, XuanXuan. Xichen-gege is here as my boyfriend, actually!”

Saying this, Nie Huaisang huddled closer to Lan Xichen, before sticking his tongue at Jin Zixuan. Out of all Nie Huaisang’s friends to be present, Jin Zixuan was the only one surprised to hear this, everyone else taking the announcement as old news… but Lan Xichen wasn’t paying attention to any of them.

Upon noticing Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang’s arrival, Meng Yao’s expression had gone through a journey of emotions, all of them so subtle that only a trained eye could detect them. Meng Yao was at first surprised to see Lan Xichen at all, then curious to realise he had arrived with Nie Huaisang. Upon hearing that the two of them were dating, Meng Yao’s shock had been so great that anyone might have noticed it, if only their attention hadn’t been on Nie Huaisang. Meng Yao quickly recovered though, turning his face into a calm mask, nothing but a small wrinkle at the corner of his mouth showing some of his displeasure at the news.

Lan Xichen, for half a second, allowed himself to interpret that reaction as jealousy, as proof that Meng Yao still cared about him on some level. Before he could entertain that thought for too long, Nie Huaisang made a show of noticing that Meng Yao was there.

“It’s been ages, we really need to hang out sometimes!” Nie Huaisang claimed, sounding so sincere that Lan Xichen couldn’t help shivering. “Oh, and who’s that with you? I don’t think we’ve ever met, but I’ve seen you before!”

And that was when Lan Xichen, at long last, noticed that Meng Yao too had come accompanied. There was a young woman standing next to him. She was very pretty, but a touch awkward at being addressed, as if perhaps she didn’t know anyone else at the party, and a little overdressed, just like Meng Yao himself was, as if they hadn’t been sure how relaxed this gathering really was. That was explained when Meng Yao introduced her as his fiancée Qin Su, daughter of Qin Cangye. The man was a business partner of Jin Guangshan, one who had been working with him for decades now, but whose own business had never truly taken off. The Qin family was merely well-off, when the Jins were truly rich.

“YaoYao, I didn’t know you were engaged!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed with a pout. “You never said. Xichen-ge, did you know?”

Startled to be brought into the conversation, Lan Xichen hesitated. It would have been easy to be cruel, to reveal the truth… it would have been easy and he’d have had little to lose in doing so. Meng Yao must have realised it too, judging by the way he tensed upon hearing that question.

But cruelty being easy didn’t make it right, and Lan Xichen did not want to ruin the party with his problems.

“Yes, Meng Yao mentioned it to me,” Lan Xichen said, smiling warmly at Meng Yao. “Though I can’t remember if I offered congratulations at the time. You two make for a lovely couple, I must say.”

Qin Su smiled at him, radiant in her happiness. She thanked Lan Xichen, who she was glad to meet since she knew he was one of Meng Yao’s closest friends, and she hoped that perhaps in the future the three of them could meet for dinner and become better acquainted. Having said this, she quickly but elegantly brought the conversation back to her future brother-in-law’s engagements, refusing to steal the spotlight.

She seemed to be a genuinely nice and charming woman, and Lan Xichen couldn’t help finding her likeable.

He would not have wanted to like her, if he’d had a choice. Part of him, this whole time, had thought that perhaps Meng Yao’s fiancée was a harpy of a woman, someone controlling, who had used her higher social status to force him to propose even when it should have been clear that Meng Yao did not love her, since surely, surely he’d loved Lan Xichen instead. But as the afternoon turned into evening and he had more of a chance to observe her, Lan Xichen found no trace of cruelty or doubt in Qin Su’s behaviour.

If anything, it seemed she had been surprised when Meng Yao had proposed to her, or so Lan Xichen heard her saying to Jiang Yanli and some of the other girls present. Apparently, Meng Yao had until then been reluctant to take that step, arguing that he feared her father’s reaction, that he didn’t want to make things official until his own situation had stabilised enough that he could truly provide for her.

Nie Huaisang, who hadn’t left Lan Xichen’s side the whole time, heard it too and immediately started joking about the sort of proposal he’d want from Lan Xichen once they reached that point. It was almost irritating at first, when Lan Xichen was just trying to process the fact that he couldn’t find excuses for Meng Yao after all, but soon enough Nie Huaisang’s demands for a proposal became so ridiculous that Lan Xichen couldn’t help laughing along with everyone else.

“You’ve only been dating a few months,” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “A bit early to think of marriage, no?”

“You have no sense of romance,” Nie Huaisang retorted. “You can’t understand what it’s like to find true love. Anyway, I’m not saying Xichen-ge needs to propose today or anything. But when he feels ready, he should know what to do, right? I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for much.”

Lan Xichen laughed at that obvious lie and, on an impulse, leaned closer to kiss Nie Huaisang’s hair. If Nie Huaisang asked about it later, Lan Xichen would say that Meng Yao had been looking at them.

“I might not do anything quite that elaborate,” Lan Xichen warned, earning him a theatrical look of shock and betrayal from Nie Huaisang. “But rest assured I’m taking notes. Although… why should I be the one proposing?”

“Because I’m cute and adorable and you love me and want to spoil me,” Nie Huaisang triumphantly announced.

Lan Xichen laughed again, and this time kissed him on the cheek, causing Nie Huaisang to blush adorably. The conversation then moved on to other things, gossip about the Wen boys who everyone agreed had more money than good sense, and did everyone know what they’d done this time? Normally Lan Xichen didn’t care much for gossip, since his uncle had raised him to consider it the mark of inferior education, but for once he listened anyway, laughing with everyone as Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian described the details of a prank they’d played on Wen Chao after his latest scandal. He didn’t even feel too uncomfortable when the story mentioned Wen Chao’s repeated cheating on his wife, but still appreciated that Nie Huaisang quietly took his hand and squeezed it gently every time the topic came back.

Maybe Nie Huaisang had been right when he’d said that it would be good for Lan Xichen to see Meng Yao again. Now the last embers of hope for a reconciliation had been truly extinguished, and Lan Xichen felt freer than before.

When, after a while, Lan Xichen had to excuse himself to use the bathroom, he declined Nie Huaisang’s offer to follow along. It really did feel impossible for Meng Yao to talk to him now, especially since Lan Xichen could so easily have ruined his so precious engagement, so there was no necessity for Nie Huaisang’s protection. Aside from that, if they disappeared together, even just for a short while, Lan Xichen was worried people would assume they’d gone to make out somewhere in the house, and he’d rather avoid having that reputation. Everyone was already so curious as to what might have convinced Nie Huaisang to set aside his no-dating policy, Lan Xichen didn’t want to give anyone too much to gossip about.

He regretted thinking so much about his reputation when he exited the bathroom and found Meng Yao leaning against the wall across the door.

Meng Yao who smiled at him, charming and warm, the way he used to do when they were alone together.

The way he'd done all day for Qin Su.

"Well, it's been a while," Meng Yao noted with a small laugh, as if they'd lost contact due to busy schedules, and not because he'd told Lan Xichen that he was too damaged to love anyone right before breaking his heart. "You seem to be doing well."

"Thank you. I'm so glad I got to meet Qin Su at last. She seems like a lovely person."

Meng Yao nodded. "She'll be so disappointed when our schedules never work to let all three of us spend time together again. But don't worry, I'll make sure she knows you're truly sorry. I wouldn't want her to think one of my friends doesn't like her. She's so sensitive."

"A quality you thankfully don't share."

The flash of annoyance on Meng Yao's face. Once the worst sight in Lan Xichen's life, it now felt satisfying. That brief display of real emotion didn't last, and in a second Meng Yao controlled himself again.

“You know, I had thought you might try to find someone to use as a rebound,” Meng Yao remarked with a too pleasant smile, “but I have to say using Huaisang of all people is a surprise. His brother must be thrilled.”

“I can see why that is a difficult concept for you to grasp, but I’m not using Huaisang.”

“Please, it’s just the two of us so let’s be honest, alright?” Meng Yao said with a warm little laugh. “And we both know you could do so much better than him.”

Lan Xichen's face heated up, more out of anger than from the awkwardness of faking a romance. 

“Huaisang makes me very happy,"he claimed, and that certainly wasn't a lie, "and there’s nothing about him that’s unworthy of me.”

“Do I need to make a list?” Meng Yao asked with almost convincing concern. “It might take a while, there’s a lot to say about Huaisang.”

“And I’ve heard it all before,” Lan Xichen snapped. “You’ve never been subtle about your disdain for him. But he really does make me happy. He’s fun to have around, he cooks well, we go out frequently, he’s not ashamed of being seen with me…”

“I can’t imagine him being ashamed of anything,” Meng Yao mildly agreed. “Ah, but no, that’s not true," he corrected, stepping away from the wall he'd been leaning against, and closer to Lan Xichen, trapping him against the bathroom door. "I know there’s at least one thing he’s too ashamed of to share with you. I don’t think you’d be dating him now if you knew.”

The claim was so ridiculous Lan Xichen almost laughed. Nie Huaisang was always happy to gossip about the life of others, but he never shared much about his own life unless necessary, and only with people he truly trusted… which mostly just meant his brother.

“He’s entitled to his privacy," Lan Xichen said." I don't mind if there are things he'd rather not share."

“How noble of you," Meng Yao sneered. "And was I entitled to my privacy too, back when we were together? Even when that just meant I was preparing for my real life away from you?”

Lan Xichen pinched his lips. It hadn’t been wrong of him to respect Meng Yao’s boundaries. He refused to believe it had been wrong. Meng Yao hadn’t cheated because of something Lan Xichen had done. He’d cheated because he wanted the respectability of heterosexuality and the pleasure of his preference for men at the same time. If Lan Xichen had asked more questions, Meng Yao would just have moved on to someone less bothersome.

“You really should know better than to trust people so much by now,” Meng Yao gently scolded, his tone as light as if they were still close and it was perfectly fine for them to tease each other. Lan Xichen ached for that closeness, while also hating that Meng Yao would dare to talk to him like that. “You know what, I can’t stand to leave you in the dark. Huaisang won’t ever dare to tell you, so I will.”

“I don’t want to know,” Lan Xichen warned. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t…”

“Huaisang and I dated for a long while,” Meng Yao cut him, smiling sweetly. “He’s never told you that, has he?”

Lan Xichen said nothing, too shocked by such an outrageous lie. It had to be a lie. Nie Huaisang disliked Meng Yao, had always disliked Meng Yao. There was no way… it was just impossible for the two of them to have ever been involved. Nie Huaisang wasn’t even Meng Yao’s type.

Was he?

“Just ask him, if you don’t believe me,” Meng Yao said when Lan Xichen was silent for too long, a hint of viciousness now piercing through the sweetness of his smile. “It would be stupid of me to lie about something you can so easily ask him, wouldn’t it?”

It sounded impossible, and Lan Xichen felt tempted to say as much. But ultimately there really was a lot he didn’t know about Nie Huaisang, and Meng Yao was right: something like that would be easy enough to check, so why would he lie about it? Unless Meng Yao only wanted to sow distrust between Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, and hoped that merely asking about such accusations would cause an argument between them? Considering their old dislike, Nie Huaisang probably wouldn’t like being suspected of once being close to Meng Yao.

If they had really been dating…

In fact, just as friends, Nie Huaisang might still resent being asked.

And yet…

“Mm,” said Lan Wangji, startling both Lan Xichen and Meng Yao.

In a second, Meng Yao went from menacing to perfectly innocent, once more the charming man Lan Xichen had fallen for. Lan Xichen himself had more trouble getting himself back under control, which his brother must have noticed, his expression one of concern for those who knew how to read it.

“Wangji, do you need the bathroom too?” Meng Yao asked. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait. I was in line first, but I couldn’t help taking the chance to catch up a little with your brother. I’ll try to be quick.”

Taking his cue, Lan Xichen stepped aside from the door, allowing Meng Yao to go inside. Unsure what else to do, Lan Xichen started heading back toward the living room, only for his brother to follow him. Immediately Lan Xichen worried what it must have looked like for Lan Wangji.

Him pressed against the bathroom door, Meng Yao standing too close to him, their reaction upon being found…

"Huaisang said you might need help," Lan Wangji noted. "He sent me."

Lan Xichen stopped on his tracks.

"He said that?"

In answer, Lan Wangji showed his phone to signify that Nie Huaisang had in fact texted his request. Lan Xichen felt relieved that nobody except his brother and Huaisang would know about this little incident. It would have been so awkward to explain to others why he didn't want to be alone with Meng Yao, and he was grateful that Lan Wangji wasn’t the sort to ask for details most of the time.

Even after all this, Lan Xichen still did not want to ruin Meng Yao's life, no matter how deserved it would have been.

Huaisang was chatting and laughing with Jin Zixuan when they arrived in the living room, happy and without a care in the world. Lan Xichen considered finding somewhere quiet to calm down, the kitchen perhaps, so he wouldn’t ruin Nie Huaisang’s fun. Before he could turn away, Nie Huaisang noticed that he had returned and threw himself at Lan Xichen’s neck, whining about being abandoned for too long. At some other time, Lan Xichen might have played along, always too amused by Huaisang’s antics, but now he just winced at the sudden closeness that reminded him of Meng Yao cornering him just moments ago. Nie Huaisang noticed, and immediately took a step back.

"Xichen-ge, are you ok?"

"Headache," Lan Xichen replied, which he realised wasn't even a lie. It wasn’t a bad one yet, but that might change quickly. “I think I’ll head home, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let me say bye to everyone, and I’ll go as well.”

“You don’t have to. Stay and have fun.”

“I’d rather make sure you get home fine,” Nie Huaisang protested, which caused a few of his friends to laugh.

“Nie-xiong, you weren’t kidding about getting engaged then?” Wei Wuxian teased. “It’s got to be true love if you’re willing to leave a party so early... Hey, you better not forget to invite me to the wedding, alright?”

In answer Nie Huaisang stuck his tongue at him, before insisting that he would accompany Lan Xichen home, or at least that he’d stick around part of the way. Lan Xichen still protested, but Nie Huaisang assured him he’d been wanting to leave anyway, that he’d promised his brother he’d come home early, that he just wouldn’t be having any fun at all if he couldn’t be sure Lan Xichen had made it back without issues. As always when Nie Huaisang had decided something, it was easier to give in, so Lan Xichen did just that, even though he’d rather have been alone.

They silently walked to the metro together, and silently sat together as they waited. To Lan Xichen’s surprise, Nie Huaisang didn’t gloat about being right that Meng Yao was a terrible person, nor did he ask what Lan Xichen and Meng Yao might have talked about during those few minutes alone.

That silence should have been a relief, especially as Lan Xichen’s headache kept getting worse. But instead, without the distraction of a conversation, Lan Xichen kept thinking about Meng Yao’s accusation. In the end, when a train finally arrived and they were able to sit down in a nearly empty wagon, Lan Xichen found that his curiosity was stronger than his good sense.

“Huaisang?”

Nie Huaisang hummed without looking up from his phone.

“Meng Yao told me something earlier, and I don’t really know what to think of it. It’d be odd if he told the truth, but I can’t imagine why he’d lie about something like that. It sounds so ridiculous, I hope you won’t be upset at me for bringing it up…”

Lan Xichen paused, waiting for Nie Huaisang to either encourage him to go on, or advise him to forget whatever nonsense Meng Yao had told him. Instead Nie Huaisang sighed, rolled his eyes, and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Ah, so he told you about us dating? Then I guess he’s really given up on getting you back, uh?” Nie Huaisang said, as calm as if they were discussing the weather.

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