#surprise drop because... i am actually sleeping so peacefully right now haha

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY TWO

in which eddie is honest. for real, this time.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, discussion of/allusions to smut from last chapter, angst, not edited (what's new though), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.1k+

→ a/n: welp. this... yeah, this is a lot. i truly hope it's worth it. in the waiting, anticipation, and length. if it isn't... my bad. i'm sorry in advance. also, please note, pov change only applies to the memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

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22:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

—

HOUR TWENTY TWO – 1:00 PM

You can’t speak. It’s as if you’re frozen; every muscle, including your tongue, has gone rigid. Every racing thought escapes just beyond your reach. Every single one of the last twenty two hours pound behind your rib cage, and you think you might just faint. Right here, right now. The blood rushes your ears as your body goes ice cold, and even the railing cutting into your palm seems to drift away from you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t even try to deny it. He knows you heard what he said – he can’t take it back. It’s written plainly on his face that if he could, he would swallow back down those disastrous words. He’d grab that destruction four letter word right out of the air, no doubt, and set it aflame. He’d blow away the ash if he could guarantee you would have never heard it.

But he can’t. You heard him. 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

Everything is heavy. The air, your limbs, your godforsaken tongue. 

“Say something,” he suddenly begs. You’ve never seen Eddie look so desperate, eyes wet and voice cracking, “Anything.” 

You want to answer him. Your bones ache with the need – the need to reply, the need to question, the need to do anything but stare at him with what he must surely mistake for horror.

Were you horrified? Were you?

You don’t know. 

It’s why you can’t answer him. 

“I-” he starts up again, breaking down even further right before your eyes. You want to reach out, to coddle him, to tell him it’s fine. But it’s not fine. 

You don’t even get the chance to ruminate on just how not fine it is, or that heat beginning to come to a boil in the pit of your stomach, because the sound of one of the neighbors exiting out onto their own balcony interrupts the infinitely delicate moment. 

“Hey there, Eds-” You don’t know what actually interrupts the gruff man that steps out, who exudes familiarity with Eddie until he takes in the scene before him. 

Eddie, completely fucking naked. You, with only a shirt on. If it weren’t for the moment at hand and the trembling emotions coming to fruition inside of you, you’d probably find it comical. You’d probably find a way to join in the old man’s single guffaw before the two of you meet each other’s gaze and become aware of what exactly is happening.

But it’s not funny. You’re both fucking naked — physically and emotionally — and it’s not funny.

You’re mortified as both of you are scrambling across the balcony, a whirlwind of discarded clothes fisted and nearly tripping over each other to shove back into Eddie’s living room. That embarrassment now trickles down into the start of a boil, everything in you becoming red-hot from how flustered you’ve become and the way you can’t have a second to just process it all. 

When you turn to face Eddie once the sliding door has slammed shut, his cheeks are the brightest pink imaginable. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper out, trying to steady your breathing, trying to take it all in. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your adrenaline is almost making you sick. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he catches your whisper amongst your stoic silence and seems to forget the moment that his neighbor had just shattered, voice clear as day as he pulls his curtains shut. You swear you catch the old man still staring, still laughing, and you’re just grateful that you’re not the one completely nude, “I had no idea Mr. Jenkins would come outside, usually none of those fuckers see the light of day before sundow-”

“Your neighbor just saw us naked,” you almost scream. You want to shout, want to throw everything in sight. You crave to flip that coffee table in the center of the room and throw a fit that outdoes even the most petulant of toddlers.

“I know, I-“

“If you say sorry again, I’m walking back out there,” you take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm you’re shaking body, “And I’m throwing myself off the fucking balcony.”

Maybe you’ll be able to laugh about it in five years. A year, even. Hell, a month or as soon as next week. But you can’t right now; all you want to do is cry.

Some random man just saw you naked. Eddie apparently fucking loves you. 

It might be the sleep deprivation and it might be the fact that it feels like the Universe is laughing in your face at every turn right now. Whatever higher power exists seems to be waiting around every corner for the chance to kick you repeatedly as you stumble to this finish line. And you can’t fucking take it.

So you give in. You give in to that childish need to stomp your feet and scream until you’re blue in your lips.

“I just- Fuck!” Eddie jumps a bit at your exclamation, he’s still naked, “I can’t catch a break! I can’t catch a fucking break. First, I’m showing up here, and I’m stuck with you for twenty four hours. I’m stuck with the man I hate for a whole fucking day,” you’re full on pacing, not caring how ridiculous this scene would appear to anyone. Your hands wave erratically in the space around you, and all Eddie can do is stare, tense with wide eyes, “And I cry in front of you, have full breakdowns in front of you. I listen to you remind me over and over how much you truly despise only to now suddenly find out that, hey! I actually love you! And do I get to process that? No. Because now, some fucking old man that lives next door to you has seen my goddamn vag-“ 

Eddie’s entire demeanor collapses. “Oh, so now I’m back to being the man you hate?” 

You pause your ranting, realizing what you’ve said. 

You’re just angry. You should have thought before you spoke, before you opened your mouth and began to spew your venom, because you can see the way the words have struck Eddie. Not your intention.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said that,” he flatly argues back. 

Your stomach twists.

“I’m just-“ your tongue is back to being heavy as the two of you face one another. Feet apart, worlds apart. “I’m fucking embarrassed, Eddie.” 

“You think I’m not?” he scowls, and you try to tell your racing heart it’s a good sign. But it’s not. You almost preferred his walls dividing the two of you, “Shit fucking happens. We got caught — we fucking dirty talked about getting caught! Big fucking deal! Karmic justice or whatever bullshit people spew. It doesn’t mean I’m going to- It doesn’t change-“ he’s stuttering now, matching that exasperation that had you pacing just moments before. He huffs, a hand reaching up and dragging his bangs upward, harsh at the root as he finally drops his hands in his own defeat, palms slapping his sides, “Everything changes. You said that, not me. You said everything changes, and all it takes is a little bit of fucking embarrassment to go back on your word?” 

He’s still fucking naked. You still can’t think.

“I’m not having this conversation with you naked,” you whisper, almost in disbelief as you shake your head, “I’m- Put your fucking clothes on. Please.” 

“Put my clothes on?” he scoffs, taking a step closer to you, “Put my clothes on? Do you mean the same clothes you just insisted I take off not even ten minutes ago?” 

“We were having sex!” you yell. You’re sure if the old man is no longer on his balcony, he can hear you through the walls. Hell, even if he is still outside, it’s likely he hears the screaming match beginning, “Why- Why are you turning this on me right now? You just said you fucking love me! The least of our issues right now is me telling you to get fucking dressed!” 

“Why are you lashing out at me right now?” Eddie’s voice is louder than yours, something more broken inside of it, “I-“

“Clothes,” you grit out, avoiding his eyes as you start to yank your panties on violently, “Now.” 

You can still feel him. His essence is dripping between your thighs. And you don’t find any sense of enjoyment in it, you don’t savor that quick-fading warmth nor the reminder of the pleasure he’d just brought you. It just reminds you of the words he had said all while not even looking you in the eyes. He couldn’t even face you as he had admitted it. 

One thing at a time, you try to remind yourself. One fucking thing at a time. 

Eddie’s own redressing is another sight that maybe, hopefully, one day you’ll look back on and laugh at. But right now, it can’t spark any amusement in you. Not as all your emotions slam back into you at full force.

You’re embarrassed. You’re confused. You’re angry.

“Happy?” he spits out once his boxers are on, shirt tugged back on so hard over his head that his curls frizz up.

“No,” your eyes are burning, and you feel it again. All those desperate emotions. Like a wild animal inside of you has begun to claw at your insides, making you bleed from the inside out. 

Eddie loves you — and he has, for a long time, apparently.  

Eddie’s neighbor has seen you naked. Saw your full bottom half exposed.

You’ve managed to hurt Eddie’s feelings, again.

Eddie fucking loves you and never thought to mention it. He has for a long time.

All your tempered strings snap, that wild and stricken thing inside of you finally cutting loose.

You don’t know what you’re angry at. You’re angry at him, and yet you’re not. You’re angry at the situation, and yet you’re not. You are bitter from words withheld and you are sour from every moment that paves the road that brought you two to this very moment.

You’re just angry.

“What did you mean?” the question comes out sharply enough to make his own defiant anger fade ever so slightly as he physically flinches, “I- I need to know what the Hell you meant, Eddie.” 

Anger is metallic on your tongue. It seeps from your skin, floods the air, only further dampens everything already so heavy. 

The longer he doesn’t answer you, the more smothering the entirety of the apartment becomes.

“Just tell me. Make it make sense, because right now?” you pause for a deep and shaky breath. Your eyesight is blurry now. Eyes red rimmed with tears that will surely sear your cheeks if they find the nerve to be shed, “Right now, I don’t get it. Over and over and over again, you have reminded me that you hate me. Prior to tonight, it was safe to assume that scorning my existence was one of your favorite pastimes. And I know, I get it — everything has changed. But- But-“ 

How can anything change if you weren’t honest to begin with? 

Did anything change for him? While you were discovering and tending to sore feelings that had been festering for a while but had never seen the light of day, was he only nursing an old wound? 

“But what?” his voice drops low. His entire demeanor has dropped, cowering down before you. His head dips down, his shoulders droop with prepared rejection, you watch the man before you, the man you had just let defile you and the man you had just worshiped on your goddamn knees, turn to dust.

A shaky gasp. Wobbly knees. The blood rushes through your ears again, flushing out any noise except the two of you breathing out of sync. His deep breaths, accepting and welcoming a rejection he was so sure he was receiving. Your shallow breaths, panting and rapid and trying to just get everything to slow the fuck down.

You were right. Once the tears shed, they burn a trail of Hellish fury right down the center of each cheek. “When I say everything has changed between us, what does that mean to you?” 

He’s undressing an old wound, an open slash that seems to be unable to form a scab. You’re pressing on bruises, aching parts of you that had purpled from his neglect long ago. It’s clear as day now — the difference.

You no longer care about the embarrassment of being caught.

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“Don’t do that,” the tears fall faster now. You can’t even begin to dig into this chasm of emotions. Are you angry at him? Are you disappointed by the circumstances? Do you love him? “I want an answer — I need your answer. You promised me your honesty, so give me it. Now.” 

His eyes meet yours, and your entire world seems to fold into itself, “It… doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t change much.” 

Everything has only changed for you. 

“So it means nothing, then? You have me at your disposal, you have me on my fucking knees for you, you tell me you fucking love me, and it all means nothing?” 

You’re twisting his words and you know it. But you can’t help it, can’t stop it. 

“I never said that!” his voice is no longer low and quiet. Sudden worry creases beside his eyes as his mouth goes slack in shock, “I never said it meant nothing.” 

“But it doesn’t mean much, right?” You hate your wet cheeks. You hate the way everything in you is somehow slow-breaking, yet suddenly shattering. An unnerving juxtaposition that is drowning you and sending you reeling over and over again, “It doesn’t change much, right? Because when I said that, Eddie, I meant it – everything fucking changed for me. It wasn’t- It’s not- This isn’t just some throwaway thing to me. Not even a day ago, I thought I had to hate you with everything I had. I thought I had to hate you.”

And I don’t. Not even a little bit. Even right now, when I should. 

“Is that what you think I’m saying?” his voice is low where your voice has risen, his face calm where yours has gone stormy. 

Where you’re on fire, he’s treading still waters. The opposite dilemma that has always existed, and the one you had the nerve to see as poetic. But water meeting flames is never poetic. It never ends well. You should have seen that coming from a mile away.

“What am I supposed to think?” you also quiet your tone to match his. You wonder if the neighbors really had heard a thing. You almost hope they had, that this argument is affecting someone else’s day the way it’s affecting you, “You’re standing here, and you’re telling me it doesn’t mean much, and-“

“It doesn’t change much,” he corrects, and you’re now the one flinching at the crack in his voice. “Not for me. Not when I-“

Not when I’ve loved you for so long.

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

“So what does it change?” you throw your hands out in exasperation, “If it doesn’t change much, what has it changed?” 

There it is again — his silence, your anger. 

“Is it not enough to just know it changes something?” 

If you were stupid, you’d take his tone as pleading. You’d mistake it for begging. But you can’t. For all your fury, you can’t believe that he’s actually stooped so low as to beg for you, especially after what he’s just said. Time and time again, you had repeatedly cracked yourself wide open for him, and he’d managed to rip your heart right out of your chest with such a simply yet damning statement. The most casually cruel bit of honesty he had offered you yet tonight: that nothing changes.

“We’re back to square one,” you choke out in realization, “I- Fuck. This entire time, you weren’t honest with me.” 

He opens his mouth quickly, and for a second you believe he’ll offer an explanation that can soothe over the ache. He’ll come up with an excuse that you can buy, he’ll explain himself in a way that proves you wrong, and the sweet oblivious bliss can return. 

“No,” he says instead after careful consideration, “I wasn’t honest with you.” 

Your tears are running rampant as you only nod slowly, pressing your lips together in defeat, “Awesome. Great,” you reach up, sniffling as you swipe at your nose, still silently quiet but no longer awarding him with any display of your rage, of your hurt, of anything but your acceptance, “No, really, that’s- Cool. Nothing changes. I get it.” 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

It didn’t make sense, but you don’t have it in you to dissect it any further. He had loved you the entire time, and still set out to make you bleed. His grand admission doesn’t change a single fucking thing. 

You don’t say another word as you grab your pair of jeans up into your fist, being sure to move slowly and not in the haste every nerve in your body calls for. You need to leave – you need out of this apartment, and you need to never see Eddie Munson again. It wouldn’t be a far leap from what your friends already deal with. If the friendships take blows of damage from it, so be it-

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing stiller than a statue as he watches you.

You grab your bag, “I’m leaving. The deal’s off. Or- I don’t know. Tell them the bet’s off-”

“The bet is not off-”

“It is,” you turn to him, absolutely frozen in your resolution, “It really, really is. You can even fucking lie to them if you want, I don’t care. Figure out a way to get the money but I don’t want it. I’m done.” 

“So that’s it?” he scoffs in disbelief. When you pull on your jeans, when you sling your bag back over your shoulder and begin to walk to the counter where your phone was left, he realizes that it’s really happening. He realizes you’re truly done, “No questions? I just told you I wasn’t fucking honest, and you’re just going to walk away, not even demand I tell the tru-”

“I’m tired of pulling the truth from you,” you finally move with some of the aggression you felt, hand smacking the counter beside your phone, “If you care so much, if you love me, I shouldn’t have to beg until my knees bleed for you to actually be honest with me,” you take your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before you look at him, “I can’t keep doing this. You were always right. They’re your friends. Congratulations, you got what you always said you wanted. You won’t have to deal with me anymore – consider this a farewell from your life. I’ll make sure no one invites you to my fucking funeral.” 

You assume he grabs you due to your cruel reference to his insult from the very beginning of the night, that he’s going to fight you for that bit of your oddly calm speech. But when his hands wrap around your bicep, and you face him with those silent tears still racing, what comes out of his mouth stuns you. 

“I’ll be honest,” he is pleading, he is begging, “Stay, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t even fucking care about the bet — we can call off, everyone else can go to Hell. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the bet, I just-” he pauses, and you watch the desperation building taller and taller within him, “Stay and let me explain.”

You should tell him no. You should tell him to go to Hell. If you stay and hear him out, it will only end in pain for you. You should leave.

Instead, your bag begins to slip off your shoulder. 

“You have ten minutes,” you whisper as his hand finally releases its grip, “Explain.”

—

SIX MONTHS EARLIER - EDDIE’S POV

If he were smart, Eddie would’ve kept his word.

He’d told them he wasn’t showing up. He’d told them he had work (not a complete lie), and that he wouldn’t make it tonight. He just hadn’t felt like drinking anymore — not since two weeks prior, when he’d gotten black out drunk while hanging out with Nancy, throwing his own personal pity party. 

Pathetic.

It wasn’t just that killer headache that had been haunting Eddie since that night. It was much more than that; it was solid and palpable regret. He’d thrown back too many beers, mixed it with some sort of wine coolers that Nancy offered him once he started to feel the buzz. All it took was just a bit too much alcohol in his system, and suddenly, his rant that Nancy had agreed to indulge him in became so much more. One moment, he was just complaining about you. And the next, he was rambling, letting less harsh words slip between the complaints, more compliments than things he wanted you to change. One wine cooler in, and he was no longer complaining about the way everyone had been fawning over you after a full six months of friendship, but instead the way that your sad eyes and pouting lips following him around a room was cosmically unfair. 

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night, and he was glad when Nancy had given him a pitiful look over the cups of coffee she offered. 

He’d told her. He knew he’d admitted his stupid, annoying, despicable crush on you to her. Probably whined about the way you and Harrington had clearly had something going on. Definitely spoke too much about how badly he wanted to experience your gentle hand in his calloused one, or to feel your arms wrap around his neck in greeting rather than daggers from your glare every time he entered a room. Hell, he’s sure there was a good thirty minute period amongst the fuzzy memories where he’d sat on the edge of tears as he continued to mumble about how he wasn’t good enough for you.

Nancy Wheeler, his best friend, finally knew. Six fucking months of keeping it under wraps, and Eddie Munson had finally slipped up.

And she clearly hasn’t forgotten as Eddie had prayed she would every single night as she’s the one to answer his knocks on Steve’s door, grinning with the hidden knowledge.

She’d texted him with one last plea for him to show up. Insisted everyone was here. Went so far as to make him a list, and made sure to add your name at the end. It had been phrased like an afterthought on the screen, but he knew her too well. He knew Nancy purposefully mentioned you.

“Munson! Finally! It took you long enough,” she squeals, clearly already halfway to drunk before she quiets down, “And you said you weren’t coming. Wonder what, or who, changed your mind.” 

“Fuck off.” 

It had been a bad day. Work, classes, a phone call with Wayne that had just left Eddie disheartened and terribly homesick. It was selfish, but the thought of seeing you in passing tonight, even if you did seem to dislike him just as he had intended, made it all a bit more bearable. 

Coming home. Seeing you felt like coming home, even if you’d slammed the front door on his face.

He follows Nancy down the hall, a pit growing in the bottom of his stomach, heavy as ever. He shouldn’t have even wanted to see you. The last time he had seen you, you’d been out for blood, blatantly ruining a date he’d managed to bag with Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, who never gave him the time of day in high school. Chrissy, who was clearly set on using him as a rebound during yet another break from Jason. Chrissy, who’s only flaw wasn't just the fact that she wasn’t you.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle greets Eddie the moment he enters the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, Jonathan to his right and a space where Nancy clearly had occupied now empty. 

Eddie nods, still feeling the week weighing him down. No sight of you yet, “Hey, man.” 

He just wanted to see you. One glimpse, preferably before you’ve caught sight of him, and he’d be fine. He’d learned to live with those fleeting moments the last six months, he could keep it up for just a bit longer.

He’d get over you eventually. Even if it killed him.

He had to give his plan time to work. So far, he’d done well, easily offering you a cold shoulder and nothing more after that first night. It wasn’t easy — he doesn’t think anyone would find the task of being cool towards someone as radiant as you easy — but he’d done it. Brick by brick, his wall of invincibility was standing tall and strong between you two. It was safer this way, he had to remind himself. It was better to run off of brief glances of your smiles and laughter never directed at him than to risk anything more. He’d only disappoint you, or you’d magically disappoint him, and it would end in bloodshed. Someone like you, someone so good and kind and easy to gravitate towards, would leave Eddie broken beyond damage. 

You didn’t go for guys like Eddie. Steve had made that clear since day one.

Eddie takes the loveseat as Nancy returns to Jonathan’s side. He tries to make it subtle, the way he twists his head to glance around the room as he removes his jacket, eyes roaming until he finds you. In the kitchen, with Steve and Robin, tense back telling him you’d already noticed his arrival.

So much for seeing you smile.

He tries to keep up with the conversation going on. Argyle and Jonathan are having some sort of debate about aliens, nothing short of heated and passionate, and he’d normally be jumping in without hesitation. But his eyes can’t stop flickering to the kitchen and each time, he can see you downing even more alcohol. He knows you don’t like him, but did you hate him that much?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Nancy leans over to whisper as Jonathan grows in volume about another branch of a conspiracy theory.

“Just tired,” he flatly replies. He’s suddenly itching to get his hands onto some alcohol of his own. Fuck the lessons he should’ve learned a few weeks ago. Fuck his regret in confiding in Nancy.

“Was work rough?”

He hums pathetically in response, eyes glued to the kitchen still. To you.

Nancy’s eyes finally follow his focus, “Have you… I don’t know, ever tried just talking to her?”

He snaps from his daze at that, head turning quickly to Nancy, “I talk to her all the time.” 

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Never nicely,” she points out, narrowing her eyes, “You’re like a little boy on the playground, tugging on her pigtails until she figures it ou-“ 

“I don’t want her to figure it out,” he cuts off the assumption, eyes widening in horror at the thought, “Christ, Nance. I thought I made that clear when I ended up shitfaced on your couch.” 

Nancy softens. She can see what’s happening here, see every dampening thought that weighs Eddie down. He might not remember his drunken rambles, but she does. 

“The only thing you made clear is what a spectacular ass you’re making out of yourself,” her words hold no bite, only truth, “Who cares what Steve said that night? He was drunk.” 

“So was I,” Eddie’s eyes are back on you, palms running up his outer thighs until he curls them to fists by his hips, “I was drunk when I talked to you about her. Forget about it.” 

Surprisingly, his stubborn best friend leaves it be. Puts the pointless argument to rest.

Eddie’s feelings can’t rest, though. 

Every night, he tells himself it’ll all go away. The distance will make his heart grow harder, and he’ll eventually be able to wash himself of you one of these days. And every night, all the feelings you’ve sprouted inside of him only teem their way higher, up into his throat and choking him with every last breath before he falls asleep. He can’t forget those first few weeks, the way you seemed to think his coldness was a phase. You’d tried so desperately to seek him out at every function, sparked so many failed conversations with him that left him to burn. Every smile you’d offered him during that time, he’d taken for granted.

Even last week, when you’d interrupted his date, he’d let himself relish in the memory of your attention. Pathetic. 

Had you been jealous? Had you just been spiteful, finally giving him a taste of his own medicine? He couldn’t decide, wouldn’t let himself linger on the reasoning. But he’d remembered your touch, could still feel it scarring his skin wherever your palm of fingertips had rested as you’d scared off Chrissy. He’d even hesitated in the shower that night, pausing for a moment before washing over the shoulder you’d gripped when you’d first approached their table and embarrassed him without care. 

He deserved your spite. 

And he deserves to have to overhear the conversation you’re currently having in the kitchen. You’re going on and on about all the men you’ve had dates with, detailing out every one night stand for Steve and Robin who listen with eager ears.

It makes his stomach churn and twist sharply. Each new man you bring to your roster makes his throat burn with jealousy, plain and simple. And he knows it written all over his face when Nancy leans over and puts a hand on his knee, giving him a concerned look. 

Even the change of topic between Argyle and Jonathan on goddamn Bigfoot can’t overtake the sharp cut of your bragging. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes so green, Eddie.” 

He’s about to snipe back that his eyes are brown, and be unnecessarily cruel from his sour mood, when he realizes what she means.

“I’m not jealous,” he lies through his teeth.

“You very much are.” 

He doesn’t have it in him to bicker back and forth about this again. Not about you, and not with Nancy, “What does it matter? Like I said, me and her? Never gonna happen.”

He had said that. He remembers that, at least, from his drunken confession. He’s sure he reiterated that point several times once he’d made it past the point of coherency. 

“She’s lying,” Nancy casually whispers, pulling her hand back, “She- Us girls talk, you know? Just… she’s lying.” 

“I went on a date with Chrissy. It doesn’t matter.” 

And she has no clue how fucking hung up on her I am. She’ll never know if I have anything to do with it.

“You can keep saying that,” Nancy glances, making sure their other two friends on the couch are still too deep in conversation to listen in, “But we both know that’s not true.” 

Unsurprising. Even if Nancy hadn’t listened to him cry that night about all his miserable yearning, all his unrequited feelings born out of a mess he got himself into, she would have known. Eddie has tried to guard himself when it comes to you, but there’s some times his leashed affection can’t help but seep out. 

Whenever you stumble on sidewalks beside him, his arms and hands are the first to fly out. Whenever the group has gone out to bars altogether, he watches you like a hawk, almost daring the men surrounding you to disrespect you. Whenever your birthday came around, he’d bought that damn gift card to his favorite coffee shop, all because he saw you frequent it twice. Although, to be fair, he’d made Harrington be the messenger there. He wouldn’t have been able to look you in your eye, wouldn’t have been able to put up the bitter persona on a day that should be special to you. He didn’t want to ruin your birthday, so he’d simply sat on the sidelines. Let everyone else go out and celebrate with you. Let everyone else pour enough affection into your cup, even when he wishes his own could have been the final drops to cause it to overfill. 

He had to tread carefully. It’d be too easy — to let himself pour out all these silly feelings and meaningless attraction. One wrong move, and he’d cause his own undoing. His own destruction. It doesn’t matter if it would be by your hand; he’d only have himself to blame at the end of the day.

He’s lost in thought, still itching for a drink, when Nancy is suddenly standing over him. “We’re going out for a smoke, you in?” 

He shakes his head numbly. His mind is far away now, getting lost in all that he’s done wrong, all that he can’t have. 

He’s homesick. He’s watched the way you’ve interacted with Robin and Steve the entire night, and he’s goddamn homesick for a home that he’ll never hold the keys to. 

“You sure, man?” Argyle asks him, wiggling his brows, “I brought the good shit.” 

Numbing his mind with drugs. It’s tempting.

“I’m good,” he reaffirms, still speaking in monotone. He doesn’t have the energy to put up a brave face, too focused on his heavy chest and that miserable pit in his gut still. 

And everyone leaves. He’s sure there’s something poetic for his stormy mind to pick up on there, as he watches his friends gather without him and exit to the outside, but he’s more focused on a miniscule detail.

You’re not with them.

Meaning you’re still in the kitchen.

And God, he really should know better. He should stay planted in his seat and he should sit in his misery until they all return. Only trouble can come from not doing so. But then his body moves to its own accord, fueled by something wickedly cruel and terribly homesick as he grabs one of the bottles of beer off the coffee table. It’s Nancy’s, he’s sure of it. Her lipstick stains the opposite side of the rim he takes a swig from. The beer has long since gone lukewarm, but beggars can’t be choosers. He clears his throat as the bitter lingers on his tongue.

He should know better.

But he doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t as he enters the kitchen. You’re on your phone as he stands in the doorway, and there’s no time to hide what you’d been glancing over.

A dating app.

You spin to face him, and he imagines a world where your eyes land on him and light up. Something akin to that first night, to those first few weeks. Where you look at him with purpose, and he sees relief flood your irises rather than irritation or fear. 

No such luck. He only has himself to blame.

He can’t think of anything else to say, so like an idiot, he gestures vaguely with the bottle of beer towards your phone, “Those apps fucking suck.” 

That jealousy is still gnawing at him. Hateful, painful, reckless. 

You look down at your phone for a second, and click to exit whatever messages you’d been on. And then you look back up at him.

“You’ve used them in the past?” you question him, but he’s still stuck on all the recounts of your escapades he’d overheard tonight. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. All he sees when he closes his eyes is you, with other men. You, looking at someone else with purpose, relieved eyes awarded to someone more worthy.

He’s lucky he can choke out a short, “Nope,” and make it not sound strangled. 

“Okay,” your attention returns to your phone screen, and Eddie’s returns to his internal battle.

He’s jealous. So goddamn jealous it’s insufferable. It’s not your fault – he chose to push you away, he chose to lash out like a child for his own sanity and his own safety. You’d ruin him; you’ve already ruined him without even trying. If he gave up on the act, on this carefully thought out plan, he’d be beyond leftover rubble of a man. He’d be gone beyond recognition, reduced to ash and smoke. A nameless, forgotten whisper of dust that people would only point to and say, see? Look at that. That’s what becomes of you when you never learn. 

He’s pined enough in his lifetime after girls like you. Girls who were too good for him. He’d done it with Chrissy, and it was still causing him nothing but trouble. 

That burden didn’t hang over Chrissy, or over you. It was all Eddie’s own fault. Neither of you could help that he wasn’t good enough; it wasn’t either of your jobs to fix him or lower your standards for him. You’d even been kind, you’d even nearly fallen into that trap. 

It was for the better. All of it was for the better this way. 

And yet the jealousy remains. The anger still thrives between his ribs, and begs for release. 

“Why are you even still on them?” he should think over his words more carefully as they begin to roll off his tongues. He knows he’s in the wrong before he even continues, “I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.” 

Each word is sharpened so intentionally, glinting from raking against that anger inside of him. You don’t deserve their prick. Really, he should just be comforting you the way the others do – how Robin surely was, how Steve must be. 

But it’s part of the plan. So he tampers down the jealousy and he feeds into the anger, lets it consume him. Because making you hate him is easier than letting you like him. It’s easier to watch the one you can’t have sneer at you like the enemy than let them smile at you like you’re just a friend. 

“I-” you falter in your words, and he decides to straighten his back, takes a deep breath as he slips the mask on effortlessly. He hates how easy it’s become. He hates how quickly he turns everything with you into a fight, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.” 

Sometimes, it’s like a game. And he can pretend that your hatred, your distaste, is also all a facade. Like the both of you are two sides of the same coin. A playful banter rather than an actual argument between two people who can’t even call themselves friends. When he looks at it like that, blinded by his delusion, it makes the ache dull. Sends it away for a few fleeting seconds, convinces himself he really can carry on this way. 

“You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all, tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the boy count you’ve got there, player,” he forces a grin as he leans on the counter, watching his words get under your skin exactly as he had intended. 

You’re cute like this. Clearly drunk, getting flustered. He revels in the way your face physically scrunches in annoyance, the way he can watch you gear up to fight fire with fire. A sick, twisted game of cat and mouse that always can entertain him in the moment and haunt him at night. 

“You’re bluffing. You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

He wonders, for a second, if you’d caught him staring at any point. He wonders if you’d even care.

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying.” 

You cross your arms, and he can’t help but watch the way they push your chest up. He can’t help but ponder on how much better it would all feel if this were really playful banter. 

He has to refrain from physically shaking the thought from his mind. 

It’s for the better. 

He narrows his eyes, he grips onto the anger again, that hidden jealousy. He should know better. He should stop it. The words even feel heavy on his tongue, terribly forced. Because his anger isn’t at you. 

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” and oh, how ironic, for the liar to be calling out someone’s little white lies, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up,” the words come out a bit easier when imagines the barrel of the gun pointed at himself, as if he were speaking so casually cruelly into a mirror rather than at you, “Everyone strikes ou-”

He’s clearly struck a nerve. And it aches, but he reminds himself that that’s the point. That’s his goal.

 “I’m pathetic? Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.” 

He wasn’t trying to avoid you. He was trying to avoid Nancy after his entire drunken confession fiasco. 

“I did!” he continues to lie. Even with no one to show for, he piles up his lies high. Buries himself beneath them, beneath his pathetic act and worthless reasons. It’s probably for the best that you had assumed that he was avoiding you. 

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.” 

The act cracks for a moment as he freezes. Why did you know about his apartment’s pet policy? 

“How do you know that?”

It can’t be because you care, or even get curious about him. He’s done everything in his power to cause the exact opposite, to make you be repulsed by him and to run the other way if you can help it. 

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” He doesn’t even react to the roll of your eyes, unable to get riled up as he usually would at that. It clicks for him; it makes sense, because Nancy had stormed down his door not even a day later, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Eddie does feel guilty about that. He doesn’t mean for his own self-destructive behavior to leach out to his friends, or even you. His goal has always been to make it so that when he’s not around, he’s not even an afterthought to you. But selfishly, part of him preens at the idea of you being reminded of him, of you thinking of him when he’s not in the room with you. It’s a conundrum. It’s almost deadlier than his other option. 

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” he grumbles like a damn child, almost pouting in his guilt. There’s another selfish sliver of him that’s also upset at that – upset at the fact everyone else gets to bloom with your friendship and positive attention, but not him. Once again, it’s his own doing. He really shouldn’t be angry at you about it. 

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.” 

Times like these make him want to give it all up. He has to physically tense his body, tick his jaw and bite his tongue to avoid throwing the entire act to the side. He wants nothing more than to grab you by your shoulders and shake you, scream that sometimes it is your fault. But you don’t know it – you can’t read his mind, see past his intentions. 

You don’t know what Steve had so generously reminded him of that very first night. 

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice is devoid of all emotion despite the storm brewing inside of him. He can’t even blame it on alcohol – he wishes he could, but his tolerance to beer can handle the single sip he’s taken. He crosses his arms, wrapping them around his body, trying to protect that terrible vulnerability only he’s aware of. When your position mirrors his, he wonders for a moment if you’re also feeling it. 

But you’ve been drinking. This entire conversation, every emotion, can be blamed on that. You’re luckier than Eddie. 

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment.” 

He lets a reaction at his own irony slip through for a brief second, eyebrows furrowing as the voice inside him screams hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!

He wishes he could pretend to be oblivious to why he can’t stop bringing Steve up, but he knows better. He can bury the jealousy alive, but it still bites all the same. 

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going? We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?” 

We aren’t exactly friends. 

He should relish that confirmation that his plan is working, that you truly don’t see him as a friend, but it just fucking stings. He swallows hard physically, as if it can help him swallow down the truth any better, but it does nothing for him. The truth only continues to choke him up. His tongue has momentarily frozen over in his mouth as he tries to push past the painful reminder and wrap up this conversation. He feels it, that sharp burn of an unattended wound, and he realizes at the wrong moment that whether or not he keeps you at an arm's length, bloodshed will always occur. 

At least this way, he tells himself it’s protecting himself. This way, the knife isn’t pointed at his own heart. 

“You’re right. We aren’t friends,” the words are poison on his tongue. They taste of dirt and rust, like a grave that screams to be dug up but he has no shovel. He’d tossed it once he’d sealed the tomb, like a fool, “But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?” 

At least he wasn’t lying to you for a brief moment. Nance had told him. He’d throw you that bone, at least. 

“Well-” and with your own pause, you seemingly return the favor. You’re handing him yet another opportunity on a silver platter; exposing an insecurity that he should let live and let die, but he won’t for the sake of the wall he has bled to put up between you two, “You say that as if Nancy and I aren’t friends.” 

“Are you?” 

He’ll regret that taunt for the rest of his days. Two simple words, and he’s damned himself. The conversation that follows, about Instagram and followers and social standards of friendship, doesn’t even matter to him. It’s just a routine. Constant knives, clashing swords of words, lie after lie piling up with the bile in his throat as he shoots for kills. He hands over reason after reason for you to resent him, and makes sure that each punch lands. Ignores the ache, the one billowing in his knuckles as if each subtle insult he tosses your way doesn’t bruise his innards all the same way. By the end of the back and forth, it should be enough, for both of you. He’s accomplished the same thing he always sets out to do with every conversation: he pisses you off, putting another inch in that stretch between you two. 

But then you turn your back on him. And he deserves it. God, he deserves it. But he’s still full of bad ideas tonight, the awfulness of the last few days still suffocating him, and so he makes another decision to regret. He walks up behind you.

You open your phone, and he sees it. You’re on the dating app again, and the screen flashes with the face of your latest contender. 

He knows that face. He schools his face to remain even, but he fucking knows that face. 

The bartender at his local haunt. The only other person besides Nancy who had ever seen Eddie so miserable over you. He had been drinking alone that night, and the whiskey had him pouring out his guts to the poor guy. Slurred words of the girl who had slipped between his fingers, of the one who got away, of you. 

And that same bartender had been the one to sympathize with Eddie, claiming he understood. That he knew that feeling – dating around and doing anything in your power to get the girl you truly want off your mind. He said he had one of his own. He’d told Eddie that his pain-riddled speeches helped him make up his mind, that he was going to go after the girl he really wanted, that Eddie should do the same. 

Was this bartender your ex-boyfriend? Had the two of them been discussing the exact same girl?

Bad decisions. Over, and over, and over. It all comes to a rise within Eddie – not just the anger, but the jealousy and the hurt and the goddamn envy of the man on the screen. He hates the bartender, he hates himself, he hates the world at this point.

He tells himself he should add you to that list. But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

And it all spirals out of control before he can prove that to himself. Words grow sharper, small kindles of tension between the two of you finally explode to full blown flames, and he’s suddenly saying things he doesn’t mean. Things he’ll linger on for the days and weeks, the months to come. 

“You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted, Not by those assholes, not here-” 

He’s mid-lie, one finger on the trigger of the gun he assumed was aimed at his own chest, when it finally happens. A snap within both of you. Timed perfectly with the glass that shatters against the wall beside his head. 

Eddie learns two things that night. 

One, half of his plan worked. He’s succeeded. You hated Eddie Munson’s guts, and instead of him being content in his success, he’s sick to his stomach. It doesn’t bandage the wound inside of him, doesn’t pack away cotton nor cauterize the bleeding. It only worsens it. Widens it, impossibly so. He swears shards of that broken glass fly right into his unsuspecting chest, even if Nancy doesn’t find a trace on him when she comes back inside to see the aftermath. You hate him, he’s proven his point. He has proven himself to be the worst possible version of himself, the most unlovable man he had always seen in the mirror now residing in him staunchly enough that every single one of his friends sees it. 

He’d done it. He’d diminished any chance he had ever held of being friends with you. And he thought that, without a doubt, that meant he’d diminished any disastrous chance of letting you close enough to risk the chance of any more of his feelings getting involved. He thought it would have meant that he’d done it – he’d protected himself, and in some sick twisted way you, from inevitable bloodshed. 

But blood had still been shed. Even if his friends were only cleaning up broken glass in the kitchen, he could still see the stain of red across the floor and walls from you and him. He was bleeding out for you, but he had just driven the knife in deep enough that you would never return the feeling. There was no world where you would be bleeding out for him, only because of him. 

The second revelation comes a bit later in the night.

Closer to midnight, hours after the fight, when Eddie finds himself alone as per usual. He stumbles to his usual bar, thankful for the late hours, fully prepared to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember his own name. He’d wish to not remember your face, especially when he had spewed such hateful intent your way, but he knows there’s not a single brand or amount of whiskey out there that can cleanse him of that. Your name is just another ghost to add to the lineup. You’ll haunt him until his dying day. And he deserves that. 

But then, when he walks into the bar, he sees the bartender. 

The same man who had stood you up just the night before. The same man Eddie simply couldn’t understand. He was clearly on a date, a nice girl sat at the table across from him, laughing at every word he said. Eddie remembers their conversation, although a bit hazy. 

“I think you’re onto something, man. Some girls are just… irreplaceable. I’ve got a girl like that of my own – prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, a smile that could cure cancer – and… you know what? I think we should both go for it. Give up on the girls who could never compare.” 

He wants to vomit. The bastard had even poured a round of shots on the house, had fucking cheered with Eddie before throwing back the alcohol with him in the promise of moving onto the girls who matter. 

He had said cheers to discarding you. Brushing off you. To you being one of the girls who could never compare. 

Eddie’s vision goes red, and he knows half of the blame falls on himself. He’d been the reason this asshole stood you up. He had already been the reason for your pain tonight before he’d even said a word to you. His self hatred has never burned so deeply, so viciously.

But you can’t punch yourself. And so instead, Eddie doesn’t hold back when he approaches the table and lands his right knuckles right on the bastard’s cheek bone. Even goes in for a second punch. He would have gotten in a third punch, but the bartender hits back. Not as hard as Eddie, fists fueled by self-defense rather than ravaging guilt and crippling self-hatred, but enough to get deter him until security could gather both men up.

It’s in the alleyway that he has his second revelation. At the hands of the man who had just hurt you. It was like looking in a mirror. Eddie nearly does finally vomit as he leans against the brickwall, security a few paces away, ready to file a police report. But then, the bastard still manages to somehow be better than Eddie, throwing up a hand to stop them from dialing for the cops. 

“Don’t,” is all he says, leveling a stare when Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, pushing his luck. He needs someone to punish him. He needs to be thrown in a cell for the night, to be treated as the degenerate he truly was, “I just rearranged your fucking face and-”

“Why’d you punch me?” the bartender spits out some blood, nose crooked, “You- You’re a fucking regular, dude. How’d I piss in your cheerios?” 

Eddie’s feeling vulnerable. All his actual feelings boiling and burning in the back of his throat, begging to be released. He doesn’t need a drop of whiskey this time to be honest. 

“The girl,” Eddie rasps, tears threatening to spill as he pictures your face again, “I told you about the girl. The one no one else compared to.” 

The bartender’s eyes widen, “Jesus, fuc- are you telling me that we were talking about the same fucking girl? I- Vanessa told me she wasn’t seeing anyone else, I can’t believe she fucking lie-”

“Not her,” Fuck Vanessa, Eddie thinks bitterly, almost laughing. He has no right to say his next words, but he does, and they cause a pain worse than even the most nightmarish hangovers he’s ever experienced, “My girl is the one you stood up for her.”

You weren’t his girl. You never would be his girl. 

The bartender only looks more confused, and Eddie’s anger flares a bit more at the thought of him talking to more girls beyond you. The man before him had had everything Eddie wanted: he had had you. And just like Eddie, he had fucked it all up. It was easy to misdirect his anger in the moment. 

He says your name out loud, a searing iron in his throat that makes it come out garbled and strangled. Some recognition falls upon the man’s face. 

“Oh… her.” 

Eddie doesn’t hold back, “Her? That’s all you have to fucking say? You stood her up, you fucking- Jesus Christ, go burn in Hell,” He’s being irrational. He doesn’t care, “Call the cops on me. Tell them to let me rot in a fucking cell. I deserve it – but so do you. That girl… that… her. She’s one in a fucking million, she’s a thousand times better than whatever girl you have waiting on you inside, and you couldn’t see that. You’re a goddamn dick.” 

No one makes the move for the call. The bartender just shakes his head again, being far too patient. Eddie opens his mouth, ready to scream now as he demands they punish him. Make him pay for his crimes. Not just the punches, but everything he had broken tonight.

He broke you tonight. He deserves to burn in Hell far more than the man before him. 

“I knew you were in love with her, but-”

Eddie cuts him off, “I’m not in love with her.”

He hates the look he receives. It’s the same pity that Nancy now looks at him with. That same hidden judgment, like everyone else knows something that he doesn’t. 

“You may hate to hear it,” the bartender is choosing his words very carefully as he swipes in a contrasting carelessness at the blood pouring out of one of his nostrils, “But you don’t throw punches like that for a girl you’re not in love with. So I suggest you mind your business, and if she is as valuable as you keep going on about, you tell her rather than punching the dude he just serves you fucking alcohol.” 

He doesn’t even have to close his eyes to see you anymore. The image of you is clear as day, even with his eyes open. You, broken and vulnerable and full of hatred for him. Just as he had intended. 

Success tastes metallic and bitter. Eddie finally empties what little he had in his stomach onto that concrete alleyway.

He doesn’t leave the wall. Not when the bartender goes back inside with one of the bar’s bouncers, not when the remaining bouncer eyes him and nervously steps forward, not when they return with a paper declaring him banned from the bar. 

He can’t move. All he sees is you. He hasn’t drank more than that one pitiful swig of beer at Steve’s, but he feels like his world has gone incoherent all the same. 

He fucked up. 

He crinkles that piece of paper harshly once he’s properly left alone in the alleyway, angry enough that it tears a bit from his force. It doesn’t phase him; he didn’t intend on returning anyways. He carries it with him the entire way home, regardless, rolls it between his palms until it’s gone soft with the sweat of his hands. 

It’s for the better. He fucked up, but it’s for the better. 

He tosses the wadded ball into the trash when he gets home. Goes through the numb motions of taking off his shoes, tossing his jacket on the counter rather than the hook he’d put up for it, and leaves his bike’s keys beside it. Eventually, he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth but never once glancing up in the mirror. As a matter of fact, he avoided every single reflective surface in his apartment that night. 

He still sees your face, broken and teary, as he turns off his bedroom light and lays on his mattress that night. It doesn’t matter how many times he repeats it to himself, reminds himself over and over, the mantra of it being for the better doesn’t work. It can’t break through. All because of a pathetic revelation.

Eddie learns that night that he is, in fact, in love with you. And it doesn’t matter, because you hate his fucking guts, just as he had intended. 

—

You don’t make a single move once Eddie breathlessly finishes his explanation. Not even to breathe. 

He’s been in love with you since that night at Steve’s. 

You’d known that he had punched the bartender that night. You’d known that he had been banned from his usual bar that night. But you hadn’t known the entire truth. You couldn’t have ever imagined it, ever pieced it together, until now. 

And you don’t know if that speaks more on you and how dense you’ve been this entire time, or on Eddie and how dishonest he’s been this entire time. 

“God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

It suddenly makes sense. At a sickening and sudden pace, it clicks into place. 

“Eddie, I-” 

“Don’t,” he stops you, looking you directly in your eyes. You nearly shrink under his attention. Your fury is gone; you just feel empty, “You… You don’t need to say it back. You don’t need to say anything – the bet’s off. I’m not being honest to stop you from leaving,” he admits, every single wall crumbling at both of your feet, “I’m just being honest because you deserve it. I should have told you that night. I should- I actually should have never done any of this. Any of it.” 

You remember the girl you once were. In a bar, surrounded by strangers and new friends, with tunnel vision for the boy in front of you. You remember that feeling of coming home, the way you ached for him to let you in and had been fooled for one night that it was possible. 

A year later, and he was letting you in, too late. 

“Why?” your voice cracks. You should just pick up your bag and go, but you can’t. Not until you stick the final stitches into the wound, seal up this hurt once and for all. For you and for Eddie. “Why would you… Why would you do that? Why would you set out to make me hate you?” 

“Because I didn’t deserve you,” he says it like a simple fact, like it doesn’t shatter you apart, “Because I knew if I didn’t create the rift and kept letting you in, I’d fall in love with you. At first, I thought I needed you to hate me to prevent it. Figured you’d be stronger than me about it. If I made you hate me, I was… Honestly, I was saving myself. I’d tell myself it was about saving you, but it wasn’t. I was being fucking selfish.”

You nod silently, swallowing down tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for what you still want so badly that it aches. 

“All because of Steve making…” you trail off, head trying to wrap around all the honesty he had just presented you with, “Making some off-handed, drunk comment.” 

It was Eddie’s turn to silently nod. To swallow hard and flutter his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the hurt lit within them. 

“You said you hated me,” you’re thinking out loud more than you’re properly speaking to him at this point, voice broken and soft, hands fighting the urge to reach out for him. Even after it all. Every reminder of what he had done for you, and now having the pitiful reason behind it all, still couldn’t break what had formed here tonight. Everything has still changed for you, “When I said everything changes, I meant the hate – I didn’t want to hate you anymore.” 

“I know,” he bites his lip, as if he’s trying to hold back any careless words. Words that might hurt you, but not for the same reasons as they used to, “That’s why… not much has changed. I never hated you. God knows I wanted to. I told myself I had to hate you, because if I didn’t hate you, I’d love you. And I couldn’t do that again – I couldn’t handle falling in love with someone I couldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t survive loving you when you’d never love me back. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of us.” 

“But you did it anyway,” you almost laugh at the awfulness of it all, terribly irony stacking up between you, “You fell in love with me, you said it yourself. You… you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects, eyes now wide open, “I love you. It’s not- It’s not some feeling in the past tense. You should still hate me, because I still love you.” 

He’s right, you finally realize. You should hate him for all of this. 

“And all of this counted on the first part of your plan working,” he has to take a step closer, whether it be subconscious or due to how low your voice has dropped. The physical distance erased aches. Splinters each of your bones and all of your emotions, “Which you never even asked me if it worked, even now. You just assumed.” 

He takes a deep, brave breath before he quietly asks you, “Did it work?”

You both already know the answer now, “No.”

But it changes nothing. You know that, he knows that. It’s just as he said – the point of saying it out loud no longer has anything to do with repairing what’s been damaged just tonight. You’re both being honest only because you both deserve it. You both deserve to finally close this tomb. 

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to close it, though. Not truly. Not properly. 

“I can’t stay,” you whisper, “I still… I still need to leave.” 

Especially now. 

“I know you do,” he responds. He’s gentle, understanding. 

It doesn’t stop the tear you see break from his lower lashes. He doesn’t draw any attention to it, doesn’t so much as move to clear it from his cheek. As if he’s scared if he does, you’ll notice it if you hadn’t already.

“The bet’s still off,” you continue, unable to meet his gaze as you pick up your bag once more. 

“I know it is.” 

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. And part of you, this time, wishes he would have as you slip back out the front door of apartment 2C and let the door shut with a quiet click behind you.

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #my bad #surprise drop because... i am actually sleeping so peacefully right now haha #also might be more mindful of answering asks with spoilers for this round <3 just to give people a fighting chance to read first!!! #eddie pov truthers please rise because my GOD have i been excited to do this

[harryhandstan]

my only angel

 super fluffy harry taking care of you during your period!

tiny mention of mustache!harry and italy!harry towards the end (just the outfit he was wearing in the most recent pictures for reference)

word count: 2,383

@geoffwittek is an angel for being my beta reader and putting up with all my technical problems today haha 

tw: blood mention // tw: pills (ibuprofen) 

// 

It had been a restless night for you.

Harry, like always, had slept peacefully next to you.

Around 6 a.m., you got up to go to the bathroom only to discover the reason for your restless night. The cramps should have been a sign, but if they weren't, the blood on your underwear now confirmed it.

You quickly finished up and ran back to the bed. Thank goodness nothing had leaked through to the sheets or blankets on your side. Not that Harry would be upset, but you would have felt guilty.

Harry stirs slightly, "Y'okay, bub?"

"Yeah, H. I'm fine. Just got too hot and can't fall back asleep. I'm gonna take a shower, okay? I'm alright." He nods and his eyes flutter closed again.

You quickly gather a change of clothes, careful not to make too much noise. Oversized t-shirt, new underwear, comfy shorts, and fuzzy socks. Your go-to comfort outfit.

The hot water fills the small bathroom with steam quickly. At the last minute you decide to light the vanilla candle, knowing it's one of Harry's favorite scents.

Right after you step in and close the curtain, you hear the squeak of the door.

"Baby? You sure you're alright? Oh.." His voice is still somewhat heavy with sleep. You know by the way his voice dropped that he saw the bloody clothes.

"I'm okay, really. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll be out soon." Your voice echoes faintly off the tiles.

"No worries. You need anything? I can run to the 24 hour shop on the corner?"

"No, no I have everything I need. Go back to bed, babe." You poke your head around the curtain and give him a tired smile to reassure him.

"Alright. Just shout if you change your mind or need me."

You take your time, hoping that Harry actually listened to you and laid back down for more rest. Knowing him though, he had already taken the clothes and thrown them in the washing machine for you. He was most likely searching for your heating pad and making sure he had enough ibuprofen on hand for you for the next week. Harry had become a pro at taking care of you when you needed it.

Your suspicions were correct. The clothes were gone and after dressing quickly and running a comb through your hair, you find Harry fiddling with the cords of the heating pad, trying to untangle them.

"Here, plug this in on your side. There's an outlet behind the-"

"Harry, I know where the outlet is, angel. I don't need that right now. The cramps aren't that bad."

The look of sleepy confusion he gives you almost makes you laugh out loud, but you're able to stop yourself so you don't hurt his feelings. He's being so sweet trying to take care of you.

"I'll leave it on my side just in case I need it, alright?" You take it from him and finally convince him to lay back down.

But your body decides to betray you as you're getting comfortable in bed. A particularly intense cramp hits and you're thankful the light is still off so Harry doesn't see the wave of pain cross your face. Unfortunately, you can't stop the wince that escapes your lips.

"That's it, here," he sits up and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen that you're sure he snuck in the kitchen and grabbed from the medicine cabinet while you were still in the bathroom, "There's no point in trying to be brave. You need this. Take it."

He shakes out two of the small, round orange pills into his hand and extends them out to you, "Hold these. I'll go get you some water."

He's up before you can stop him. His feet shuffle across the carpet and he makes it to the doorway, "Harry, no.." emotion hits you out of nowhere and you feel hot tears starting to form. You feel so ashamed and embarrassed for letting yourself get so overwhelmed so quickly.

He's back to your side in a second, "I didn't mean to upset you I just..if you won't use the heating pad and you won't take something for pain..how am I supposed to help you through this, honey?"

You know if you can just get comfortable enough to fall asleep for a while, things will be better.

You both sit in awkward silence for what seems like ages, just the sound of your soft sobs and the feel of his warm hands soothing up and down your arm, trying to console you. Finally, he breaks the silence, "Tell me what y'need, love. I'll do anything to help."

"Want you," it seems so childish, and you know you'll hate yourself later for being so needy, "Just want you to hold me, H."

"Alright, I can do that. But you gotta let me do my job and take care of you first, deal? Two of these and some water and I'm all yours."

You nod an agreement and Harry squeezes your shoulder before disappearing to the kitchen and coming back with a glass of water, "Here, the bottle says you can have 2."

The pills go down easily and your reward is a "good girl" praise from Harry.

A shiver rolls over your body, "You cold, lovie? You want an extra blanket or a hoodie?"

"Hoodie. One of yours?" You hate the neediness in your voice but all you want right now is comfort so you let the wants and needs overtake your guilt. You could hate yourself for it later.

"Of course, bub. Be right back," You shiver again but he's only gone for a second before he's back, "C'mon, arms up. There ya go. Comfy?"

You nod again. Exhaustion is starting to set in. Warm arms wrap around you and you fall into them, the two of you adjusting until you're settled back down.

The arms tighten their grip slightly. Just enough to pull you closer. He moves one hand to cradle behind your head, in your hair. The other arm draped over you with his hand firmly on the small of your back. The tips of his fingers softly move over your scalp and through your hair and you're grateful for the touch. It's another want you were too tired to express.

He kisses your forehead and mumbles a sleepy "love you" in your ear before you both drift off.

//

When you wake a few hours later, there's an emptiness to the bed. You're still surrounded by warmth, but you quickly realize it’s not Harry.

Pillows. He had replaced himself with pillows. One under your side and one pressed firmly against your back. As if they could ever be a replacement for his softness.

Faint noise can be heard in another part of the space you share. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you discover the noise coming from the kitchen.

Harry stands over the stove, his back is to you but you can tell he's stirring something, "Harry?"

"Hey! There's my sleepy girl," He crosses the kitchen in a few steps to meet you, "I was hoping you would sleep a little longer so I could surprise you with lunch."

He envelopes you in an embrace so deep you fight not to cry again. You've never had someone love you as much as he loves you. Any touch from him reassures you and reminds you of that. It had been a source of frustration for him in the beginning of your relationship, getting you to accept and learn that you deserve the love he continuously showered you with. You still had days where it was hard, today was one of them.

You hide your face in his chest and just let him hold you. He kisses the top of your head and then loops one of his long fingers under your chin, pulling your gaze back up to his, "How's your tummy feel? Any better?"

His hand rests on your hip and rubs small circles on your side. You notice the absence of rings and fingernail polish today. It feels so strange and foreign but it only means he feels comfortable enough with you to leave them plain and untouched.

"Better."

"Good. You hungry? I attempted to make mac and cheese for you. The white cheddar kind you love so much."

You don't have the heart to tell him no, he's so proud of himself, "Yeah. Sounds good."

//

After lunch, you both sprawl out on the couch in front of the tv, Harry flipping through the channels until he lands on one of those cheesy romance movies he knows you're secretly obsessed with.

He sits opposite you, your head propped up on throw pillows, your feet stretched out into his lap. His hand smooths up and down your leg, eyes still focused on the tv. He won't admit it, but he gets just as sucked into these movies as you do. You don't even think he realizes what his hands are doing, it's just second nature at this point for him to be touching you in some way.

When the movie takes a sad turn, you find yourself wiping your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie you're still wrapped in.

"Angel." His voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it's loud enough to make your head turn towards him to see he's gesturing for you to join him on his side of the couch. You shift around, head falling into his lap, his fingers running through your hair.

Normally he would tease you about getting so emotional over these movies, an elbow nudged playfully into your side until you look at him and both fall into a fit of giggles about how silly it was. He doesn't do that now, just watches you for a minute, thumb swiping away tears, "What part made you so sad, baby?"

"She lost her husband. He was just gone and I..I know you're not my husband but, you're mine and I couldn't imagine losing you like that." The tears are free flowing now, the thought a vivid image in your mind because of the scene that just played.

"Oh, lovie. You're not gonna lose me. Not anytime soon, anyway. And definitely not like what happened in the movie. Was a little ridiculous how he just.."

You cut him off with a kiss, sitting up to press your lips tenderly into his. He leans into it, a hand slipping behind your neck to gently push you into a more upright position in his lap, pressing slightly firmer before pulling away, "What was that for?"

"Just a thank you for taking such good care of me, being so good to me. The clothes and the food..this."

"You're welcome, this is my favorite part. Seeing you all soft and emotional. I don't always get to see that side of you, you hide it so well. Clothes are fine, by the way, I pulled them out of the dryer earlier. I put them away for you."

He chuckles, "Was so anxious I might wake you up with that squeaky drawer of yours. You looked so sweet, face smushed against my pillow."

"Oh no, H. I was probably snoring! I don't know how you stand to sleep with me." You bury your face in your hands so he doesn't see the deep shade of crimson spreading across your face.

"Hey, none of that now." He pulls one hand away from your face, bringing it down to settle on his chest, "But yes, you were. It was incredibly adorable."

He kisses your forehead, pausing there for a moment longer than he ordinarily would.

"Hmm, that feels nice. Do that again, made my head feel better."

"Yeah? Your head aching, darling?" Warm fingers move across your face, his thumb landing on a spot right between your eyebrows, "Here?"

You nod, leaning in to his touch, a contented sigh slipping from your mouth.

"Was thinking about what we should do for dinner, if you feel up to going out."

"Mhmm, what were you thinking?" You're still floating, absorbing every bit of his touch.

"Thought we could try that new Italian place up the street, the one that just opened across from the bakery with those cookies you love so much. We could go there after. Or we could get dessert from the restaurant..they had a nice selection. I looked at the menu online while you were distracted by the movie. We could also get it as takeaway or have it delivered if you'd rather. It's up to you."

"Let's go there. Wanna see you all dressed up." You open your eyes, hands drifting to his jaw, then up to cradle his cheeks. Thumbs smoothing over the mustache covering his upper lip.

"Yeah? Like it when I get all pretty for you, huh?" A smug smile brightens his whole face.

"Mhmm." Your teeth sweep your bottom lip into your mouth, unable to stop the smile that flashes across your own face.

"Alright then, love. You're the boss. Be ready in 30, yeah?"

//

30 minutes turned into 45 and he impatiently watches you, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. He's selected a simple black, short sleeve button down shirt. He’s left a few buttons undone, pairing it with bright linen pants. A silver cross necklace shines against his tan skin.

"Just a second, can't get this curl to cooperate." You twist it in your fingers, trying to make it settle in with the others framing your face.

You're considering turning the curling iron back on to run through it again, when he lifts himself from the door frame and slowly steps behind you, eyes never straying from your reflection in the mirror. They sweep over you, taking in every inch of your curves, the soft flowy fabric of your dress hugging all the right features. One hand rests on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back away from your neck. He places a kiss to your exposed shoulder, then up to dip into the curve of your neck.

"Better hurry, baby," his eyes dart up to meet yours in the mirror, "I might not make it to the restaurant before I want dessert."

#harry x reader #harry styles imagine #bf!harry #my writing #pretty proud of this honestly #the end was kind of rushed but.. #enjoy!

[awkwxrdapple]

Sometimes - Javier Peña x Reader

“Sometimes, just sometimes, well alright maybe all of the time.” - Sometimes by Gerry Cinnamon (x)

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: What you have to know is that I am a sucker for “there was only one bed” style tropes. It’s just fluff and sleep related angst. With no back story, it just is what it is. This came to me while I was in the middle of my chem midterm so enjoy :) I’ve set it up for a second part I think, so we will see how it goes haha.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you ok?”

Javi exhaled smoke slowly. You weren’t expecting an honest answer, or any answer at all. You just had to ask. Watching him sit, slumped, on your sofa was worrying. The man looked exhausted. You were used to having him lounge lazily on your couch whenever he came round, but this time it was different. Before, he still had an air of confidence around him, whereas now he looked like he was ready to drop any minute.

After a few seconds of no reply you changed your question. 

“Are you sleeping?” 

“No.” 

The short, blunt answer startled you as you were still expecting to get nothing back from him. You were happy he was with you now, that he had come to your apartment. Something was clearly bothering him, and maybe a stranger wouldn’t have been able to tell, but luckily for Javi, you weren’t a stranger. Far from it. 

“Do you try to sleep?” It was a stupid question, but one you needed to ask. You knew his habits, he could spend all night out in a bar or a brothel to avoid sleep if he wanted to. The latter being one that brought a nasty taste to your mouth. 

“Not any more.” As you had expected. 

“Javi, you need to try.” Your voice was soft. 

“I have tried.”

“Try again then.” 

The lights of the buildings of Bogotá were bright against the inky blackness of the night sky. Your curtains were still open showing the proof that it was late. You had been sitting in each other's company for a while.

Javi saw you looking up at the window, and instantly felt guilt at keeping you up too. Just because he wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight, doesn’t mean that he has to stop you too. 

“I should go Y/N.” 

Bringing your attention back to Javi, he seemed to look even worse than he did a few minutes ago. There was no way you were going to let him out of your apartment to go and do God knows what until tomorrow morning when he would start the self-destructive cycle all over again. 

“No, I want you to stay. Please.” 

“Why? You need to go to sleep and I’m keeping you up.” Javi removed himself from your sofa and took steps towards your door. 

“Javi, look at me.” He did stop and brought his gaze to yours. “Would you sleep if you stayed here?”

Your question threw him slightly. It was something he had never considered as to him, that would be a huge imposition on you. But now you were the one to mention it, maybe it would work. He had nothing to lose in the sleep department. He either would, or he wouldn’t. Yet, he also had a lot else to lose. Staying here, in your apartment, knowing you were lying peacefully only a room away, had so many domestic connotations. That was a reason he had never considered staying at yours ever, because could he put himself through that? The magnetic pull he felt around you would be ever harder to resist if he said yes. 

As soon as he let himself slip just once, it would be harder the next time. And then all his worries of keeping you safe and out of his complicated, dangerous life would manifest into reality.

“You can sleep in my room and I will have the sofa. I really don’t mind.” 

Your eyes were pleading him to stay. 

“Thank you. But I can’t. But thank you.” 

Trying not to look at you again, Javi left your apartment before you could try any harder to convince him to stay. 

+  +  +

The next time Javi knocked on your apartment door, it was much later in the evening. You had even been lying in bed for the past half an hour reading. The knocking on your door had startled you considering the hour.

“Javi, what-” 

“Can I take you up on your offer?” He was leaning against the door frame in a way to hold himself up. His body language screamed of fatigue. You wondered how his day had gone. Had he been on a stakeout? Had it been dangerous? 

“What offer?” You were confused for a moment. 

“Sleep… here.” It almost pained him to admit he wanted the comfort and safety of your apartment. 

Your eyes widened when you finally realised what “offer” he was referring to and opened your door further to let him in. 

“I don’t want to bother you at all.” Javi started, wandering over to your couch. “You won’t even know I’m here, apart from the fact I’ll be on your couch.” He let himself fall heavily down onto the cushions. 

“Javi it’s fine don’t worry. You can have my bed if you want and I’ll sleep out here.” You walked to the linen cupboard to reach down a spare pillow and blanket.

Even before he entered your apartment he knew you would say this, and he had planned what he would say in return. There was no way he was going to have you give up your own bed. He was the one imposing on you. 

He hadn’t even consciously realised he was at your door until you had opened it to reveal you wearing pyjama shorts and a tank top. You found it hard to sleep sometimes in the Colombian heat. The amount of skin on show surprised Javi, making him even more aware of your presence. The thrill of the idea of running his hands over every part of your exposed skin was intoxicating. If he wasn’t so utterly exhausted he may have done. Soft. That’s the first word that came to mind upon seeing you in cozy clothing. 

“No, I’m fine here, honestly.” At least Javi had the strength to fight you on this. 

You considered him for a moment, weighing up your points for a good counter argument, but he had already made himself comfortable. Instead, you just handed him the pillow and blanket. 

“Thank you, hermosa.” Javi drawled lazily shoving the pillow underneath his dark hair. 

The nickname didn’t go unnoticed. Your Spanish was good enough to know what he had called you. You wanted to revel in it, allow yourself a small bit of joy that he used that word to address you. Until you remembered that you probably weren’t the first, or last, girl to be called that by Javier Peña. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You saw he had already closed his eyes. And for the first time in weeks you could finally describe him as peaceful. You were going to ask him about his day at work, to try and work out what had finally made him come to you, but by doing so now you would only disturb his peace. 

+   +   +

You woke suddenly, and surprised yourself by the blackness of your room. It still wasn’t morning yet. Your phone read 4:32. 

Remembering Javi was in your apartment, you had the urge to see if he was actually asleep. Was being here actually giving him any respite against his insomnia? 

Trying not to make any noise, you crept to your bedroom door and opened it as quietly as possible. From here you could see his figure lying still on the sofa. A thin sliver of light from in between the drawn curtains shed a small amount of light into the main room. You could tell from the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that he was in fact, asleep. 

Smiling to yourself you closed the door again and retreated back into the darkness.

+   +   +

Javi sleeping on your couch sometimes became routine very quickly. 

You had got used to leaving the pillow and blanket there every evening, as more often than not he would turn up to use it. You liked it, it was nice knowing where he was, and even nicer to know that when he needed someone, he came to you. 

When you offered him your spare key he was incredibly reluctant to take it. You wanted him to have it so he could come and go as he pleased at night. You knew staying at his own apartment wasn’t working for him, so you wanted to give him freedom in another safe space. 

Eventually, he did accept the key, and sometimes he did use it. Whether that be to leave and come back at night for something, or to let himself in if you had gone out for the evening. You would come back to find him passed out in your living room, the curtains still open giving the tranquil scene an urban backdrop. You would creep around him and close them silently, before retiring to your own bed. 

Amazingly, you found your sleep had improved too. Although some nights you were more aware of the man in your apartment with you. Knowing he was in the other room was soothing, but at the same time maddening. The fact that you were too good friends meant you could never offer your own bed to him, with you still in it. No matter how much you wanted to. So you just were content with knowing that you were helping a friend. Javi had started to look better even from the first night he had spent at yours, something that only got better with time. 

One night was very different though. 

You had just finished eating dinner at the little breakfast bar in your kitchen when Javi practically stumbled into your apartment. At first you thought he was drunk, but then it became apparent that something else ailed him. There was a horrible purple bruise on the side of his face. 

“Javi!” As soon as you saw him you ran towards him and helped him to sit down. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

“Well it’s obviously not.”

You cautiously brought the tips of your fingers to the afflicted skin. He winced as you touched it - just as you thought. It wasn’t fine. 

“What happened?” Your voice was almost a whisper. You knew what he did for a job, you knew it was dangerous, but only now were you seeing that with your own eyes. In all the time you’d known Javi, you had seen him get into a few scrapes but nothing as bad as this. The bruise covered from next to his right eye all the way down his cheek. 

“One of Escobar’s sicarios had a gun, which ran out of ammo, so he used it in another way.” 

You were still inspecting the damage. There was no obvious swelling so icing it wouldn’t do anything now. Rest is what he needed. 

“Please tell me you managed to get a few punches in too.”

“Unluckily for him, my gun was working perfectly.”

“Ah…” You wondered how the other guy managed to get so close.

Javi turned to look you dead in the eye. Your face was already so close to his and the close proximity almost winded you. You had always been fascinated by his dark brown eyes. You hadn’t known anyone to have eyes as dark but still so lovely to look at, because they were so warm, and comforting. Yet, there was something else that was there too. Something that may be considered wary or even haunted. What had Javi witnessed as part of his job? 

Neither of you had said anything for a few moments, however neither of you had made a move to shift away from each other.  

“Has work been a lot like this recently?” He could still hear your whisper even though you could barely hear yourself. 

“Yeah it’s been… difficult lately.” 

“You are so brave and strong though Javi.” He winced at your words. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.” 

“I don’t, not from you. You’re just wrong.” 

“No I’m not. You are, even if you don’t believe it.” You allowed your words to be flooded with determination. You hated that he thought this way about himself. 

Javi leant forwards and instinctively put his head in his hands. He winced again at the contact. The affection you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming. 

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not really, I feel more dizzy than anything.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“No I don’t. Cause for one, this was an unauthorised stakeout.”

“Javi.” 

“Y/N please, just let me rest.” 

Putting everything else aside and prioritising Javi’s well-being you found yourself saying, “Come and lie down on my bed.” The couch was no place for someone injured. 

You briefly saw a flash of worry cross his face. Was the thought of lying on your bed so bad? 

You helped him up and he leant on you on the way into your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes at the door and you allowed him to lie on his back. 

“You know you shouldn’t be left alone.” 

“I know, that’s why I came here, because I know you would watch out for me.” 

You were now lying on your side next to him, and upon hearing that you felt a blush creep into your cheeks. You would always watch out for him. You were glad he knew that. 

“You should rest.” You moved to get up but a strong arm caught your arm. 

“Stay please.” 

“I was only going to get the blanket to sleep on the floor in here.”

“No I mean, stay here. Please.” His hand was still wrapped around your forearm. 

“Ok.” You agreed, and settled back onto the bed, bringing the sheets up over the both of you. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You said softly, for what felt like the millionth time recently. That in itself was soothing. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” 

Every cell in your body was on fire as you could feel his body heat radiating through your bed. You wanted to reach out and have some physical contact with him. Nevertheless, you knew he needed rest, and you were only friends, so there were boundaries. You rolled over to give him space and willed yourself to sleep. 

+   +   +

The first thing you thought when you woke up was how warm you were. Not an uncomfortable heat, just nice warmth. 

Javi’s arm was around you. 

Sometime through the night he had moved so his chest was up against your back. The muscles of his arm were strong and solid. You wondered if he had moved consciously, or unconsciously. You couldn’t decide which was better. He was definitely still asleep though, as the rhythm of his breathing was even and shallow. 

You, consciously, snuggled back into his embrace, and could feel yourself dozing off again until you were startled by movements from him. Javi’s arm tightened around you even more and he moved so his face was nestled into your neck, you could feel his nose lightly touching your skin. 

You couldn’t help but grin. You thought about all the times he had slept in your apartment but not in your room with you - it was a waste. You’d both been missing out on this. Maybe in Colombia this was the closest feeling to home you both of you would get. 

Masterlist 

#this is actually the first time ive written for any of the pedro boys #just fancied writing this one #to see how i could do and whether i want to do anymore in the future #javier pena #narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #storyofavengers

[btxtreads]

Halfway There || Choi Soobin

➳ When feelings you thought have changed do a complete 180 in the midst of a total disaster.

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader

↳ word count: 4.2k

↳ genre: fluff, angst?, medical au

↳ trigger warnings: mass shooting (NOT DESCRIBED BUT MENTIONED A LOT), mentions of suicide, panic attacks, multiple gunshot casualties, minor character deaths

↳Trigger warning note: PLEASE BE CAREFUL IN READING THIS FIC. IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY THE THINGS LISTED ABOVE--PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED UNDER THE KEEP READING SIGN. this is in no way romanticizing a shooting or anything mentioned in the warnings above--but this is a medical fic that takes place in an emergency room in the midst of a disaster, and i found that this situation is usually dealt with in the medical field would be plausible for the emergencies they would be able to respond to but still be able to interact with. 

↳ a/n: With regards to the general plot between Soobin and Y/N,,,, i had no idea what i was writing man i did this on a spur at 3am. Please be careful in reading, and please tread lightly. otherwise, enjoy this weird soobin fic i wrote because there are no soobin fics for me to read anymore hAHA pls send me some.

Screams, wheels on linoleum floors, beeping.

All those noises are tuned out by Y/N as she panted, two defibrillators in her hands.

“Charge again. 600 this time. You, move.” Y/N commanded, pushing the patient’s brother away. “No one near the patient. We ready?”

Beomgyu, Y/N’s best friend and co-doctor, nodded firmly. 

“Alright. Three, two, one.” Y/N said, voice alert. “Charge.”

The patient’s body lurched.

Y/N’s head turned to the heart monitor, cursing at the unmoving flat line.

“Shit, again. 800. Ready?”

“Yep.”

“3, 2, 1. Charge.” Y/N commanded, defibrillators firmly planted on the patient’s chest.

The patient lurched once more, and a slow beeping started.

Y/N and Beomgyu looked up at the heart monitor which now projected varying sizes of spikes—the patient’s heart was beeping again.

“Alright, he’s stable for now. Wheel him in, OR-5.” Y/N sighed, handing the defibrillator to a nearby nurse.

“Dr. Jeon is in, we’ll page him.” Beomgyu smiled, already on his pager.

As soon as the patient was rolled out of the emergency room and into the operating room, Y/N crashed into the spare bed.

“When will this end?”

“When your shift ends 4 hours from now.” Beomgyu chuckled, ruffling Y/N’s hair.

Y/N raised her head, pouting at him. “I just wanna go get some sleep, babe.”

Beomgyu laughed and pulled her up. “I don’t think we could, but what we can do is get some coffee at the Starbucks across the street.”

“You’re treating me?”

“You’re such a freeloader, but fine.”

“You have got to be kidding me right now.” Y/N groaned as she pushed the cafe’s door open.

There sat Huening Kai, her cousin and resident doctor, happily sipping on an iced americano next to Taehyun, his best friend from college.

Across them sat Yeonjun, one of the senior doctors of the hospital and next to him is Yeonjun’s best friend, Soobin.

Soobin.

Choi Soobin—she dreaded his entire existence.

Soobin, peacefully munching on a donut, heard the loud complaint from his seat and his eyes immediately darted over to the girl at the door.

“Y/N-ie!” Yeonjun greeted.

“Hey, Junie.” Y/N smiled politely, frowning at Soobin as she approached their table.

“Hey, troublemakers.” Y/N greeted, her hand landing on Hueningkai and Taehyun’s heads. 

“Your mentor teaching you how to slack, huh?” Beomgyu teased, walking towards the line.

“Actually,” Yeonjun raised his finger. “I am not their mentor.”

“All the more. Besides, you’re still teaching them to slack.” Y/N chirped.

“You’re one to talk, you’re here too!” Yeonjun whined.

Soobin chuckled, causing Y/N to shoot him a glare. “Can I help you?”

Soobin stopped abruptly, shaking his head softly.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu exchanged glances as Y/N started doting on Hyuka.

Soobin quietly stood up, excusing himself for the comfort room.

Yeonjun turned to Y/N and whined. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that you’re a fully-grown adult, a medicine graduate and a practicing doctor and yet you still act like such a child.” Y/N shrugged.

“Boo.” Yeonjun huffed.

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sighed. “He meant what’s your problem with Soobin?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.

“They used to date!” Hyuka chirped from his seat, causing Y/N to turn over to him.

“Oh, yeah. They got it on all the time at their house, Soobin was there almost everyday then.” Taehyun giggled, silencing immediately at Y/N’s sharped glare.

“You what?” Yeonjun asked, his eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

“Still finding out your name is Daniel was a bigger surprise, Daniel.”

“My name is also Yeonjun. Both are my names.” Yeonjun groaned.

“Bad break-up?”

“No, kind of?” Y/N sighed, eyes locking with Soobin who just sat down. “Soobin just gave me a good wake-up call.”

Soobin frowned. “Look, can you get over it? It was almost six years ago.”

“Seeing my ex make out with my best friend the day after we broke up was seems kind of like a hate-you-for-the-rest-of-my-life material, doesn’t it, Binnie?” Y/N said, voice emotionless and smile empty.

As Soobin opened his mouth to answer his defense, six simultaneous beeps sounded out.

The six doctors exchanged glances before checking their respective pagers.

Code brown. Shooter at Seoul Community College. First patients ETA 10 min.

Years ago...

Y/N’s eyes watered as Soobin bit his lip, his head bowed down low.

“No, no.” Y/N whispered, her eyes leaking tears—but she didn’t sob. 

She was quiet, and Soobin thought that hurt more than anything else.

“W-Why?” Y/N asked. “You told me you wouldn’t give up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Soobin, you said you loved me.” Y/N looked up, locking eyes with him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

Soobin gulped, looking at the side.

Of course, he loved her.

Soobin actually thinks he’s never loved anyone more than he loves Y/N.

But he can’t.

Soobin loved Y/N—a bit too much.

Too much that he was willing to throw everything away, that he was willing to just drop everything to be at Y/N’s beck and call.

Too much that he thought that he might suffer for it.

He might stop paying attention to class.

Too much that he thought of proposing, dropping is course and getting married, getting her pregnant and starting a family and a business.

That wasn’t in his plan.

When he said he wanted to be a doctor, his family made a lot of adjustments—budget cuts, his older brother going to a less prestigious college to save money, his parents taking on multiple jobs—just to give him his dream.

And now, he was here and thinking of dropping it all for a girl.

So, yes. 

He did love Y/N, but he had to choose.

“I can’t, because I do love you, Y/N.” Soobin smiled sadly. “I have to love myself and my family more.”

“Soobin, I don’t understand. I don’t—just—tell me.”

Soobin only shook his head, any explanation he would offer would be useless.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Y/N, red-eyed and face swollen, finally found the courage to haul herself out of bed to get some food from a nearby cafe.

After a few hours of crying, Y/N fell asleep.

Waking up the next morning to an empty bed when she usually woke up on Soobin’s bare chest made another fresh wave of tears flow out of her body until she was out and had to reload—eat and drink.

As soon as she turned to the corner, her eyes fixed on her best friend.

Seo Yeon sat on the lap of a tall, brown-haired man practically sucking his face off.

What made Y/N stop was when they pulled away, Soobin’s face becoming visible.

Seo Yeon giggled before pressing a few kisses to his neck as Y/N walked over to them slowly.

“I thought you were busy Seo Yeon.” Y/N said, causing Seo Yeon to fumble off of Soobin.

“I-I was, Y/N-ie.” Seo Yeon mumbled as she stood awkwardly next to Soobin in his chair.

Soobin only sighed.

“Busy sucking the face off of the love of my life?” Y/N growled, out of character from her usualy calm demeanor.

Soobin’s head shot up, gaze soft but shocked at Y/N.

Seo Yeon pursed her lips. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

“You didn’t know that,” Y/N smiled dangerously. “I would’ve told you if you picked up the phone, but you didn’t. Did Soobin tell you?”

“No.” Soobin hummed, his gaze set on Y/N.

“Fucking snake.” Y/N chuckled, picking up Soobin’s cold brew and pouring it over Seo Yeon’s head.

Seo Yeon’s high pitched-screech sounded out as the beverage spilled over her head and stained her clothes.

Y/N turned her head over to Soobin, a menacing glare on her face as she hissed. “I thought you fucking loved me.”

“I did,” Soobin said, settling in his chair. “I always will.”

“Bullshit.” Y/N hissed before turning, pulling her hair in a high ponytail as she angrily stepped over to the cafe counter to order.

Soobin only sighed as the cafe’s door closed. “This was the only way to make you believe I don’t anymore.”

On a totally random Wednesday, Y/N found herself breathing heavily as she rushed from patient to patient. 

She, Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Hyuka all pulled on their coats as soon as they read the pager’s message and bolted back to the emergency room to prepare for the incoming patients.

The last she saw, a running Hyuka was fixing the IV of a patient being wheeled to the operating room, with Taehyun pushing the bed and rambling about Dr. Kim.

Yeonjun was screaming earlier about joules—probably using a defibrillator.

Beomgyu crashed in on her cot earlier as she was giving chest compressions to a gunshot victim, stealing gauzes before bolting to the neighboring cot.

Y/N panted as she opened the next cot, empty.

Soobin entered right after her, sighing as he collapsed on the empty bed.

“That’s for the patient.” Y/N panted, readying herself to stand and move to the next cot before Soobin groaned, pulling out his phone to narrate the situation.

“The shooter’s daughter was bullied and killed herself. So, he came to the university and killed everyone he thought was responsible.” Soobin narrated, sitting up and breathing slowly. “He’s still shooting.”

“Shit, so more patients incoming.” Y/N cursed. 

“Definitely.” Soobin sighed as he stood and pulled the curtain open, only to be greeted with another patient—a gunshot wound on his chest, abdomen and leg.

“Oh my god.” Y/N gasped, waving the responders in.

Soobin immediately set to action, pulling out IVs and preparing the heart monitor.

“Dr. Choi, get a nurse.”

“There’s no time, and they’re all busy.” Soobin refused. “I’ll be your nurse for now.”

Y/N cursed before springing into action, taking the cords for the heart monitor to help him set it up.

“He’s got a weak heart beat and were losing a lot of blood.” Y/N hissed.

“Fuck, what’s your blood type?” Soobin asked, looking up at the patient whose gaze was hazy. “Sir? Sir!”

The patient muttered incoherently, causing Y/N to face him as his eyes closed. “Hey, hey. Stay with us.”

The patient breathed heavily before forcing his eyes open to let out another incoherent murmur. “Sir! Wake up!”

“Fuck,” Soobin said, turning to pull out a fresh batch of gauzes to press to the wounds. “Sir!”

Y/N cursed. “Fuck this.”

Soobin’s eyes widened as Y/N grabbed the man and shook him away. “Hey, buddy! Don’t sleep!”

The man blinked before softly muttering out. “Blood…O…Blood…Type of… O…”

Soobin grinned, turning over to Y/N and smiling softly. “Thanks, sir.”

“You gotta stay awake with us. Okay, buddy? We’ll get you out.” Y/N faced him. “Get the blood, doofus. We need at least 3 pints.”

“Roger.”

After Soobin and Y/N wheeled their patient into an operating room, leaving him to the care of Dr. Moon before running back to the emergency room.

At least 10 more patients were rolled in while they were occupied.

Y/N immediately bolted over to Hyuka, who looked panicked as he straddled a victim.

“Kai, get off, I’ll do it!” 

Kai pulled himself off of the patient, and Y/N immediately plopped herself over the body.

“Count for me, a hundred a minute. Ready?”

Soobin’s eyes fixated on Y/N as he dashed to another cot with a ma and a stab wound.

She never looked more beautiful to him than she did a while ago, saving a life right in front of him.

Several cardiac arrests and chest compressions later, Y/N found herself at a loss in the middle of the emergency room as patients were wheeled in continuously.

“Is it still on-going?” Y/N asked as Beomgyu rushed past.

“It’s an open fire now,” Yeonjun answered for Beomgyu.

“Fuck,” Y/N cursed as a patient was pushed to a cot next to her, a black ribbon tied to the bed.

“Doc, we need someone to call it in so we can use the cot for other patients.” The head nurse rushed, causing Y/N to purse her lips and enter the cot.

The patient was a young woman, seemingly in her mid-20s, and her soft face  made her look like she was just asleep—but Y/N knew better, she knew what the ribbon meant.

Y/N raised her watch, glancing at the dark lines forming numbers that would ultimately mark the last minutes of this girl.

“Time of death, 6:53 P.M.”

The nurse thanked Y/N, setting a blanket over the patient’s face before a quick transfer from the bed to a gurney was done and the nurses started to change the bedsheets for the next patient.

Soobin’s groan and Hyuka’s voice sounded from the cot across Y/N causing her to peek over.

Hyuka panted as he fluttered around the patient’s bedside.

“Hey, Hey! Minho, stay with me!” Hyuka hissed as he shook the body.

“Min Ho?” Y/N asked, walking forward. “Son Min Ho?” 

Y/N looked down at her and Hyuka’s childhood best friend on the cot, Soobin working tirelessly as he tried to do chest compressions.

“Y/N, can you press on the wound?” 

Y/N’s gasped, her eyes watering once more as she grabbed gauze pads and started pressing down on the multiple gun shot wounds on Minho’s body.

At the back of her mind, she knew that there was nothing they could do—he was gone as soon as she heard the flatline.

She didn’t know why her body reacted when Soobin pulled a black ribbon out of his pocket.

“No, No!”

Hyuka was silent, sitting down with a blank expression as Y/N shook her head.

“Choi, no, stop.” Y/N shook her head. “I can save him—I can save him!”

“Y/N.” Hyuka said softly, looking up at Y/N. “It’s over.”

“No, no.” Y/N gasped. “Not until I say so.”

“Y/N!”

“We’re not losing Minho, okay!” Y/N muttered, pulling the black ribbon out of Soobin’s hands and throwing it to the side. “No.”

“Y/N.” Beomgyu said as he entered the cot.

“No!”

Y/N climbed the bed, straddling Minho. “I can do this, fuck the heart monitor. Beomgyu, a hundred compressions a minute.”

“Y/N, stop it.” Beomgyu said, trying to pull her off.

“No? Fine. I’ll do it myself. Fuck you.” Y/N cursed at Beomgyu, her chest heaving fast as he pressed her palms on her friend’s body.

He was cold, but she paid no attention to it.

No, he’ll be fine. 

“One, Two, Three—”

“Y/N!” Soobin’s deep voice boomed as he forcefully lifted Y/N off Minho’s body and plopped her on the floor where she unceremoniously dropped.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu helped several nurses transfer Minho to a gurney for the morgue as Taehyun consoled a silent Hyuka.

“I didn’t—I could’ve saved him—I could’ve…” Y/N muttered, rambling over and over.

“Y/N?” Beomgyu asked as he stepped forward.

“Panic attack.” Hyuka suddenly said.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Soobin said, his fingers snapping in front of her. “Look at me. Count with me.”

“I c-could’ve saved h-him.” Y/N continued, ignoring Soobin. “He c-can still live, b-bring him b-back. I can s-save h-him.”

“Think about family, think about friends. Your house in the country, your relatives there, your neighbors—“ Soobin abruptly stopped at Y/N’s glare.

“No, okay. Don’t think about it. Hold your breath.” Soobin said, causing Y/N to breathe heavier.

“I c-can’t.”

“You have to.”

“I r-really c-can’t, C-Choi!”

“Fine.” Soobin hissed before leaning in and pressing his lips on hers.

Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Hyuka all froze, eyes trained on Y/N and Soobin.

Y/N slowly responded to the kiss before pulling away.

Soobin breathed heavily, leaning his forehead on hers as he closed his eyes.

“Wait—what?” Yeonjun muttered.

“What was that for?” Y/N asked silently.

“You had to hold your breath, and you weren’t.” Soobin said softly as Beomgyu started to usher the others (mainly Yeonjun, who stillw anted to peek) out of the cot. “When I kissed you, you held your breath.”

“Y-You can’t do that.” Y/N breathed out.

Soobin only shook his head before leaning back in, swiftly pressing his lips on hers.

Y/N let out a soft breath, leaning back and running her hand through Soobin’s hair as their lips moved in sync.

Soobin raised his hands to grasp her waist, pushing deeper and angling his head.

Y/N groaned and wrapped her leg around his torso, pulling him closer.

Soobin moved his lips down, kissing from her lips, to her jaw and proceeding to suck a mark on her neck.

“Soobin,” Y/N grunted, sighing.

Soobin hummed, pressing his lips to hers once more.

It was then that Y/N suddenly opened her eyes and pushed him away.

“No, No. This can’t be happening again, not after I just got over this.” Y/N said, groaning as she scooted away.

“Y/N, wait—“

“You hurt me.” Y/N said, turning over to him. “You broke up with me.”

“I thought it was best at the time.” Soobin whispered.

“I loved you.”

“So did I,” Soobin said, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss on it. “and I still do. I never stopped.”

“Bullshit,” Y/N hissed, ripping her hand away from Soobin’s grasp and running it through her hair. “Stop saying shit you don’t mean.”

“How do you know I don’t mean it?” Soobin challenged, irritated.

“Maybe because I saw you making out with my so-called best friend the day after you left.” Y/N hissed.

“It was the only way to get you to believe that I didn’t love you anymore!” Soobin argued, standing up. “All these years, I never stopped thinking about you.”

“Bullshit, why’d you break up with me?”

“Because I was ready to drop everything to marry you!” Soobin said, his hands flinging around in anger. 

Y/N froze, speechless.

“I loved you too much, I thought maybe that’s bad for me. I was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Soobin whispered.

“Then-Then, why?” Y/N asked as Soobin walked forward and pulled her in once more, leaning his forehead on hers.

Soobin sighed and pressed another kiss on her lips.

Y/N pulled away, breathing heavily. “Soobin, why?”

“Y/N, I never wanted to let you go, but the hardest decisions always seem like the good ones.” Soobin explained, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Y/N’s head.

“Oh,” Y/N replied, swallowing a lump on her throat. “Was i never a good decision to you?”

Soobin shook his head. “I don’t know. It was so easy to love you, maybe that’s why I thought you were bad for me.”

Y/N sighed and pushed him away gently. “No.”

“Y/N?”

Y/N stopped, opening the curtain to the cot and turning to face Soobin with pursed lips.

“You know, I wouldve done all that I could to hold on to you, but when I saw you with her, I thought you wanted me to go. It’s nice to know you didn’t.”

“I never wanted you to go, I still dont.” Soobin said, reaching out to grasp Y/N’s hand.

“I don’t believe you anymore.”

Y/N gave a sad smile, placing a soft kiss on Soobin’s hand before turning and leaving him alone.

Next to them was the distinct sound of a heart monitor flatlining.

Y/N heaved, inserting a tube in the patient’s chest after making a fast incision.

Y/N waited for a while until the patient stabilized.

“Keep him in observation. Once Dr. Seo clears up wheel him in and say he had tension pneumothorax.” Y/N yawned and patted the nurse at the back. “He’ll be alright for now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll take over now.” Taehyun says, ruffling Y/N’s hair as Hyuka enters the cot.

“Y/N, you look horrible.” Hyuka gasps, causing Taehyun to snort in laughter.

“Thanks, cousin. Nice to hear.” Y/N replied, voice laced heavily with sarcasm.

Hyuka held his hands up. “I’m just saying.”

“He’s not wrong,” Beomgyu sighed, entering the cots and leaning on the bed. “You should get some sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, I’m serious.” Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ll drop dead any minute. I’d rather you get a nap before you become an extra patient here.”

Y/N pursed her lips as she peeked out the cot, running her eyes through the emergency room.

It was a little bit calmer now, a stark difference from the chaotic messy room it was earlier.

“You guys will be fine?”

“We got it,” Hyuka smiled.

“Go to the break room, get some sleep.” Beomgyu pushed Y/N lightly. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, sheesh. Will do.” Y/N shook her head and started to trek her way to the second floor.

It was now silent, the break room situated between patient’s private rooms for peace and quiet while doctors take their rests.

Y/N entered the room silently, her eyes locking over a lone figure laying down on one of the bunk beds—an arm covering his eyes.

As she closed the door, Soobin sat up slowly.

“I was waiting for you.”

“Did Beomgyu and the others put you up to this?” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Soobin shook his head. “But Yeonjun sent me up to get some rest, and I knew it was a matter of time before Beomgyu sent you up, too. So, I waited.”

“So, you waited.” Y/N hummed. “Soobin, what exactly do you want from me?”

Soobin stayed silent as he stood up and walked closer. “I want you.”

Y/N turned abruptly, lips pursed. “You had me, you let me go.”

“Yeah, well I’m not making the same mistake again.” Soobin said, pulling her closer. “Y/N, I know I still have you.”

“Soobin.”

“Down there, in the ER,” Soobin asked. “You kissed me back. Was that real?”

“That was real.” Y/N replied curtly.

“And you wanted to kiss me, right?”

“Right?”

“And you still love me, right?” Soobin asked desperately.

“I do,” Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Soobin lean closer. 

“Y/N, I want you back.”

Soobin swooped down to plant a kiss on Y/N’s lips, but she only sighed and turned her head.

She walked over to a nearby bunk, shrugging her coat off. “It’s not that easy to forget everything, Soobin.”

“I never stopped loving you. It was always you.” Soobin said, following her and laying a hand on her waist. “Please, let me prove it to you.”

Y/N turned in his arms and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m scared of you—I’m scared you’ll turn around and go once you realize I’m not something you want.”

“No, not anymore. I know it’s you.” Soobin shook his head and placed his hands on her cheeks. “The greatest mistake of my life taught me that sometimes, the best decisions are the easiest things to do—and it’s so easy for me to say I’m in love with you.”

Y/N smiled softly at Soobin before leaning up to kiss him.

Soobin laid Y/N down on the bed, not breaking the kiss as he crawled on top of her.

Y/N pulled away and ran a finger across his cheeks.

“I’m supposed to get some rest, Dr. Choi.”

“So was I,” Soobin smiled, satisfied and happy as he plopped his body down next to Y/N and pulling her close.

Y/N lifted her head to place it on his chest, laying her hand above his heart.

Y/N smiled at the rapid beat of Soobin’s heart as he tightened his grip on her waist, burying his face in her hair.

“Soobin, what happens tomorrow?” Y/N asked, starting to trace abstract lines on his chest.

“I don’t know, baby.” Soobin smiled in her hair. “All I know is that it’s still you and me.”

Y/N smiled burying her head in his chest. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Soobin smiled, the pout in Y/N’s voice and the way she snuggled in his chest was a clear indication that somehow—even just a little—she did.

“I know,” Soobin hummed. “but I’m halfway there.”

BONUS:

The morning after the emergency, Soobin drove Y/N home.

He absolutely refused to let her go without at least one goodbye kiss—or three—demanding that she free up her night for a date.

He won her over by more kisses.

After seeing Y/N practically make out with Dr. Choi Soobin, the tallest bachelor doctor you can find in Seoul Medical Center, her roommates were shocked.

To say the least, various questions was thrown left and right about Soobin.

(“Does he kiss nice?” “Yeah, his lips are soft.” “How tall is he?” “6”2, but you can literally just ask him this.” “I thought you were dating Choi Beomgyu?” “I never was, but I guess I’m dating Choi Soobin now.” “Is his dick big?” “if it’s just like I remember, then it’s huge, yes, but I don’t see why you have to ask me this.”)

At exactly 5 in the afternoon, Y/N shot awake from the alarm she set.

“7pm. See you, babe. ;)” was the short text waiting for her—sent at exactly 3:30 PM.

Immediately, she dashed into the shower.

Afterwards, she took the best outfit she could find.

At exactly 6:48, she settled into her couch and waited.

As 7:00 sharp rolled in, there were three knocks on the door.

When Y/N opened the door, she was greeted with a bouquet of roses and a smiling Soobin.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi.” Y/N smiled brightly, leaning forward and kissing him gently. “These are beautiful.”

“I know, just like you.”

“Cheesy.” Y/N hummed with a smile, placing another kiss on his lips before setting it on a nearby coffee table.

“I know you love it,” Soobin grinned as he intertwined their hands. “Am I forgiven yet, baby?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and biting her lip. “but you’re halfway there.”

#txt #tomorrow x together #soobin imagine #choi soobin imagine #txt imagine #tomorrow x together imagine #txt soobin #soobin #choi soobin #soobin fic #txt fic #soobin x reader #soobin x you #medical au #doctor au #txt medical #txt doctor #txt medical au #txt doctor au #txt x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin scenarios #dr soobin #choi #yeonjun #beomgyu #kang

[sunnomnoms]

[originally requested by @teerama ]

[sorry to tag you again, I transferred blogs right quick! I hope you don’t mind!]

Yes you may! I hope you enjoy this! :)

Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki had found you on his way down to the common room in the middle of the night. He had no particular reason to go, but it was late and he had woken up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Considering the dorms had elevators, not many people took the stairs, but he liked to take them from time to time to avoid social interaction sometimes. Not that he minded his dorm/class mates, there were just times he wasn’t up for chatting. This night in particular, he was feeling restless anyway, so he took the walk down the stairs to just have more time to think as he walked.

As Todoroki continued down the stairs, he heard what sounded like… music? He stopped for a second to listen. What he heard was muffled music coming from what sounded like headphones. Was someone in the stairwell?

He continued walking, to find a figure sitting on one of the steps, their head in their arms. The figure looked frustrated, they leg bouncing slightly and their foot tapping. Todoroki took it upon himself to approach the figure. Because you had your headphones in, you couldn’t hear the sound of Todoroki’s cautious steps behind you. You felt a hand touch your shoulder.

you let out a small shriek, jumping up and nearly tumbling down the stairs as you did. Your reaction caused Todoroki to let out a small yelp as well, stumbling back a little. The two of you stared at each other for a second, before Todoroki had spoken up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You sighed a sigh of relief, it was just a classmate, not a stairwell ghost.

“It’s fine.” You said, offering him a small, half hearted smile.

“What are you doing in the stairwell at this time?” He had asked you, taking a few more steps towards you. He watched your smile drop, as a look of shame fell on your face.

“I… I couldn’t sleep. In training today, I got completely knocked out cold. If I wouldn’t have tried to push Denki out of the way of Kirishima’s attack, I wouldn’t have gotten hit. If I would have been awake, I could have helped our team win. But… I was just on the ground and unconscious for most of the time. It’s… pathetic really.” You admitted. You hung your head a little, your feeling of shame returning to your body.

“Kirishima hit you hard enough to knock you out? Are you okay?” Todoroki had asked. You pointed to the bandage wrapped around your head.

“Minor concussion. I haven’t heard Kirishima say anything to me besides apologies. You know how the guy is, haha..” You joked lightly.

Todoroki gave a small chuckle, much to your surprise. He sat down on the steps, and patted the spot next to him. You walked up a few steps, and seated yourself next to him. You looked at him confused. What did he want?

“You do realize it’s not just your job to keep your teammates in check, right? They should have done their absolute best to succeed as well.” He spoke softly. You cocked your head slightly.

“Well, what do you mean?” You questioned.

“You didn’t fail them. You were heroic enough to save one of them from their own stupidity. If anyone has failed another, they had failed you.”

The words were soothing in a sense, but also cold. Sure, you didn’t want to put the blame on them for what happened but… at the same time, Todoroki had a point. Denki should have taken measures to get himself out of the way instead of standing like a deer in headlights. Guilt was still heavy in your chest, but… maybe a little less heavy now.

“I… thank you, Todoroki. I um.. I really needed to hear that.” You said softly. Todoroki shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me for telling you the truth.”

There was a silence between you two for a second.

“Would you like to go back to my dorm? I’m sure it’s much more comfortable than a stairwell.” Todoroki offered, as he stood up. You felt your face heat up.

“W-what? I don’t wanna disturb you trying to sleep or whatever-”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, and as you said, you can’t either. It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I figured you didn’t want to be alone right now.”

You looked up at him, your faces burning at the idea of being in Todoroki’s room at such an hour. If Aizawa caught you two even outside of your dorms he would be pissed, but in his dorm? Alone? Just the two of you? At this hour? It wasn’t hard to see what could go wrong.

But you decided to live a little, and took him up on his offer. The two of you ended up staying up to around 4 am, talking about random things and watching movies. You had fallen asleep in his bed while Todoroki occupied himself with other things. When he took notice to your sleeping form, he figured it’d be best if he slept as well, considering the time. He crawled under the covers next to you, and the two of you slept peacefully.

And that’s the story of how everyone thought you two were dating, as Mina had busted open Todoroki’s door wondering why he was sleeping in so late only to find the two of you in bed together.

-

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo couldn’t sleep that night and was headed down to the kitchen area when he found you. He wasn’t one to stay up late, but tonight just felt weird for some reason. He couldn’t shake the feeling, and his body just seemed to refuse the idea of sleeping. Frustrated, he figured he’d kill time by maybe making a late night snack or something. Not wanting to make too much sound, he headed down the steps instead of the elevator.

He heard the sounds of sniffles and immediately stopped. They continued, on, seemingly unaware of his presence.

“Hello?” He called. He heard a small ‘eep!’ In response. Bakugo turned the corner of the stairwell to find you, curled up on one of the steps. You had tears in your eyes and looked at him with a bit of fear in your features. A heavy silence hung over the two of you for a few seconds.

“Are you… okay?” You jolted at the sound of Bakugo’s voice. It was… softer, hushed even. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen this guy show sympathy before, was this really Bakugo? Or was the darkness in the stairwell playing tricks on your eyes?

“I-I’m- uh, I’m fine.” You muttered out, wiping a tear from your eye.

“No, you’re not.” Bakugo had said. He wasn’t wrong, that’s for sure. He knew he wasn’t wrong either. He let out a small huff.

“Come on, get up.” He said as he walked towards you, holding a hand out for you. You looked at his hand, and at his face, trying to see if there was any sort of joke here. He raised an eyebrow at your hesitation. You gently took his hand, and he helped you stand up. There was a second of him holding your hand a bit longer than what was probably expected, but you didn’t think much of it at the time.

“Come on.” Bakugo ordered, motioning him to follow you. You didn’t get it, what did he want? You had expected him to make some sort of snarky comment towards you showing weakness or something. But.. here you were. Following him up the stairs and back into the hallway.

“U-um… where are we…” You went to ask him just as he stopped at a door. Oh… it was his dorm. He motioned you inside, and you obliged.

“So, are you gonna tell me why you were crying in the stairwell?” Bakugo asks, still in a tone more polite than usual. It still had that underlying annoyed sound to it but… You think that might just be how his voice sounds. Oh wait, he asked a question, shoot.

“U-um, well… I’m just a little… upset over something, that’s all.” You stammer out. You knew how Bakugo was, and had seen how he perceived others showing weakness before. You didn’t exactly want to be a laughing stock for him. You gently sat down on the edge of his bed, your hands in your lap.

“Clearly so. I got that much.” He replied, sarcasm lacing his voice. “What is making you upset?”

You swallowed thickly. Well, hear goes nothing.

“I… well, today in training my team failed… and I kinda feel it might have been my fault. Sero had bound me up with tape before I could do much to turn the tables for my team. I was hoping during capture the flag I could go unnoticed as the other team tried to fight of the rest of my team, but… turns out I’m not as sneaky as I thought.”

You said, hanging your head a little as you twiddled your thumbs. You heard him let out a small scoff.

“Well, first of all, it was dumb of them to expect you to be the stealthy one. That’s not how your quirk works and I’m sure there were other people on your team more qualified for that.”

You froze for a second.

“What?”

“Second of all, they shouldn’t have sent you alone. If they actually took the training seriously they should have sent you with someone else to ensure you would be able to carry out the plan. From what it sounds like they only had Soy Sauce Face defending the flag. If they send you with someone else instead of expecting you to carry their asses to victory on your own, you guys probably wouldn’t have lost.”

You blinked, offering Bakugo a confused look. Why… was he giving you game strategies? He looked at you, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“In other words, they were idiots to expect you to do that on your own. It’s not your fault. You did what you could.” It was… a surprisingly sweet thing of him to say. You looked down at your lap again, a bit embarrassed by his reassurance. You didn’t think there’d be a day, or night, where Bakugo would lighten your mood, but… here you were.

“I.. thank you, Bakugou…” you said softly to him. He shook his head as he walked towards his bed, crawling into it.

“It’s whatever, I don’t care.” He said, trying to regain his cold tone again. It didn’t seem to work for you though, as you were already fully aware that he did care enough to ease your nerves.

“If you want to stay, I’ll listen to you talk about your feelings or whatever. If you want to go back to your room, I don’t care.” Bakugo had said, trying (and failing) to subtly hint that you could stay the night.

You took him up on his offer, and spent the night taking about random things, venting about things that upset you and having Bakugo back take your side on things you were angry about. you don’t exactly remember when you had fallen asleep, but you remembered the morning after. There was a knocking on his door, and a whine on the other side.

“Bakugooooo!! Wake up man!!! You said we’d hang out today and it’s already like noon!!!” Denki’s voice called. You froze in your place.

“Oh shut up! I’ll get up when I want to, go away!” Bakugo yelled back.

“But Bakugooooo!”

“Ugh, give me thirty minutes!”

“Okaaaaay!! Thirty minutes and counting!!!”

You two heard foot steps walk away from the door. You sighed a sigh of relief. Getting out of his bed, you shot him an apologetic look. But before you could apologize, he shook his head.

“I’ll talk to you later. Make sure he, or none of those other dumbasses see you. You won’t hear the end of it.” Bakugo said. You gave him a nod.

“Talk to you later then.” You said, as you snuck out of his room. This time, you were stealthy enough to not get caught.

#bakugo katsuki #shoto todoroki #katsuki bakugo #todoroki shoto #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #mha reader insert #mha x you #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha requests #bnha reader insert #bnha x reader #request #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #katsuki x reader #shoto x reader #I am tagging the frick outta this #ryu bnha tag

[monstaless]

On The Low - Part Two

Author: @monstaless​

Relationships: fwb!Bambam x Reader, some JB x reader

Warnings: angst, smut, language, my possibly incorrect Korean (which I guess in the context of this fic is okay), some Vagabond spoilers (if you haven’t watched it yet, 10/10 highly recommend)

Song - On The Low by Justin Park

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m not sure how I feel about this. I hope you guys like it though! The third and final part will be finished and posted, hopefully, soon.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

They were going on month two of their arrangement. Bambam had no complaints. She didn’t expect much from him. He didn’t have to text her everyday. He didn’t have to ask how her day had been. Although he still did both of those things fairly often as he would with any of his friends. They still had dinner together regularly and she still watched his cats if scheduling had him out of town. The sex was only getting better with time. He had no complaints at all. Not one.

He still hadn’t told anyone other than Yugyeom about it though. If he had plans, that was all he said. Just a simple “Sorry, guys, I’ve got plans this evening.” Though they all exchanged looks, none of them pushed for more information.

Yugyeom, of course, was curious about the situation and always had questions. Were they just secretly dating? What exactly were they if they weren’t dating? Were they exclusive? Was she seeing other people? Was he seeing anyone else? Did Bambam like her as more than a friend? Did she like Bambam as more than a friend?

He didn’t have all the answers though. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasn’t even sure that he understood the situation completely. It was like they were dating, but still in many ways it was completely different.

Bambam: Netflix and chill? I can supply dinner. Y/N: I don’t really feel that great. Bambam: Oh god! Are you contagious?  Bambam: Am I going to be next? How long have you been sick? Y/N: No haha It’s not that kind of sick. Bambam: Oh...do you need anything? Bambam: We can still Netflix and chill.  Bambam: I’m bringing you something sweet. Be there in 20.

He was on his way home anyway and didn’t mind stopping by the nearest Thai restaurant to grab her favorite treat. Especially, if it would make her feel even the slightest bit better.

She opened the door and stood behind it in sweats and a sweater that was way too big. His heart stopped for a moment. He was sure of that. He’d never seen her look so cute. He almost told her, but rethought it. Was this what he was missing out on most of the time? What would she look like in his sweaters?

“Sorry, I know I look terrible.” She must’ve mistaken his silence for disgust. She brushed a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid behind her ear and looked at the floor.

“No, you don’t,” he argued, holding the bag of food out to her in order to avoid having to say more. She took it and looked up at him before even checking the contents.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you think it is.”

“Mango sticky rice?!”

“Yup,” he chuckled, feeling very proud of himself. “I thought it might help you feel a little better.”

“You’re the greatest!” She pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. “Wanna watch Vagabond with me?”

“You finished A Korean Odyssey without me, didn’t you?” he asked in disbelief. She gave him a sheepish grin over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t help it. You know how much I love Lee Seung-gi. He stole my heart,” she laughed. He did know how much she loved Lee Seung-gi. She swooned over him every time she saw him: TV, magazines, commercials. All of it. It was hard not to know how much she loved the actor. “Also, I couldn’t just stop there. The suspense was killing me. Do you want something to drink? I have hot tea.”

“Sure, I’ll take some.”

She ushered him to the sofa and he took a seat to wait for her return. She handed him a cup of tea and a fork for his container of sticky rice before sitting down next him. Then cocooned herself in her favorite fuzzy blanket and reached for the remote.

He shot her a look as she pressed play on Vagabond without starting it over. He looked at her in disbelief.

“You better start this whole series over for me, if you want me to watch it with you.” He made a face at her when she hesitated. “I’m not kidding. I’ll leave right now and take the sticky rice with me.”

She pouted, but went back to the episode selection to start it over. She scooted in closer to him so that she could lean against his shoulder. Then popped open the mango sticky rice and dug in.

“Oh my god! Why would you make me watch this? That poor kid!” He protested in horror as he swiped at his watering eyes. They were still only on episode one. She didn’t answer and he looked over to find her asleep, cuddled into his side like it was the most natural thing ever. His heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen her like this. She’d never fallen asleep during a show and she was rarely this cuddly. They’d never been in a position like this. He didn’t know what to do. He could wake her up, but then he’d lose this moment. He could let her sleep, but then she might miss something in the show and she’d be mad at him. 

He turned his attention back to the TV, but now he couldn’t refocus on it. Not with her snuggled up to him like this. He made his decision.

“Y/N?” he nudged her gently. Then repeated her name a second time. She opened her eyes and then, realizing where she was, sat up quickly. “Do you want me to go home so that you can get some sleep?”

“You don’t have to. Sorry that I fell asleep on you,” she murmured. “I’m just super tired. I think I’m okay now though.”

But Bambam wasn’t okay. The image of her sleeping peacefully on his shoulder was burned into his brain. A glimpse of what he could have if they were more. Something he could have every time he was home. This was one of the things he was missing out on. This was the difference, he realized.

She was hanging out with JB. She’d turned him down for JB. He tried not to feel betrayed. He knew that she and JB were friends and that they hung out regularly. He also knew that his request to hang out had been last minute and she’d been planning to hang out with JB for the past week. She’d told him a week ago about her plans and in his excitement, he’d forgotten. She’d even told him that he could join them.

He couldn’t occupy all of her time though and he had nothing to be jealous of. He’d agreed to this situation. Even if something happened between her and JB, he couldn’t actually get mad about it. He’d known all along that exclusivity wasn’t part of the deal. 

It just bothered him that it was JB. If it had been any other member, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so insecure, but he knew that she was into JB. She’d been into JB since the first time she met him. Everyone knew.

Y/N: Sorry that we couldn’t hang out today. Y/N: JB is about to leave. I can make it up to you when he leaves, if you want 😏 Bambam: You know that I’m not gonna turn down apology sex.

“Damnit, Bam. People are gonna ask,” she grumbled as she stood in the bathroom inspecting the mark he’d left on her skin. She shot him a look over her shoulder and he replied with a shrug.

“You can use makeup to cover it, you’ll be fine.” He hoped she wouldn’t though. He wanted JB to know that she was seeing someone. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so jealous of JB. Maybe it was because the other day, JB had asked him about her. JB’s curiosity was making him concerned that their arrangement might end soon. He knew that she liked JB. She didn’t try to hide it. She got all smiley when they were texting and if she was around him, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

Lately, she had been spending almost as much time with JB as she spent with Bambam.

“What’s up with you? You’re weird today.” She pointed out as she sat next to him on the bed. Her annoyance about the mark had dissipated. She was genuinely concerned and he felt a pang of guilt for letting his jealousy get the better of him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t hang out earlier.”

“It’s not that. It’s just...work stress. I’m sorry,” he offered.

“You know you can talk to me about it, right?” 

“Of course. It’s just the usual stuff. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I should probably go.” He tugged on his T-shirt.

“Oh. Okay. Um, text me if you need anything,” she offered as she followed him to the door.

JB had seen the marks on her neck. He’d asked Bambam if she was seeing anyone and Bambam, still feeling guilty about being so jealous, fought the urge to lie. He told a half truth instead. That she was seeing someone, but he didn’t think that it was serious. When JB asked what he meant, Bambam explained that she and the man she was currently involved with were sleeping together, but that appeared to be the extent of their relationship. Jaebeom looked disgusted and Bambam felt a little bit of surprise that the truth had actually worked in his favor.

Until, JB spoke again and Bambam realized that it was actually quite the opposite. JB was disgusted that the man hadn’t committed to her. He didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to call her theirs. Bambam pointed out that maybe she was the one who didn’t want anything more. JB made a face and stated that either way, the guy obviously wasn’t the one for her. Bambam decided to drop it before JB unknowingly insulted him more.

“You know that you don’t have to go home, right? You can stay here,” he offered as she started to get out of the bed. She laughed.

“Bam, I literally live an elevator ride away. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I know. I just figured I’d offer. It’s pretty chilly tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “My heating system works, you know?”

“Why are we still doing this? Why don’t we just make it official? I know you said that you didn’t want something serious, but this isn’t that different. I can give you whatever you want.”

“I just am not interested in being tied down right now. This works for me.”

“You like Jaebeom-hyung, don’t you?” he questioned, immediately regretting his childish outburst, hating how rude he’d sounded. She looked at him in surprise. It was too late to take it back now though. He might as well get his answers.  It had been gnawing at him for weeks. He adjusted his tone this time though. “Why don’t you date him? It seems like he likes you. You hang out all the time. Why do you keep coming to me?”

“Really? This has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You’re an idol, Bambam! You know what that means. Why would I want to date an idol, Bam? Why would I want to hide my relationship from the whole world? Why would I choose to date someone that I can’t be seen in public with? Why would I date someone who can’t marry me or have children with me because it means putting their job on the line? You said when you started this that you didn’t want anything serious!”

“Why didn’t you go for him first? Why did you choose me?”

“I just told you that this has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You made the first move, Bam. I told you the first time that I didn’t want anything serious and you said you were okay with that. You said that you didn’t want anything serious either.”

“That was before I knew how much I really liked you.”

“I don’t think that we should keep doing this.” She took a deep breath and shimmied into her dress. “I need to go home.”

“Y/N. Wait!” He tried to follow her, but by the time he’d gotten his jeans pulled on and made his way to the door, the elevator doors were already closing. “Fuck!”

He slammed the door and pressed his back against it. He was torn between trying to talk to her and just letting it go completely. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Who knew if she’d ever talk to him again.

Bambam was surprised to see JB in the parking garage of his building. JB explained that he was there to see Y/N. They hadn’t hung out in a while and she’d been pretty quiet for the past week. He was quiet for a moment before asking Bambam if something had happened between her and the guy that she had been seeing. Bambam shrugged and admitted that he hadn’t spoken to her recently, but he hadn’t seen her with the guy. He skipped the part where it was because he was the guy and they’d been avoiding each other.

“Geunyoneun manggo chapssareul joahamnida,” he offered as the elevator doors opened.It was his way of apologizing to her. He knew that she didn’t want to see him. She would’ve said something if she did. Instead, it had been radio silence. “Geugosi geunyoreul giun nage hal gosimnida.”

He didn’t wait to see if JB got on the elevator or not. He was pretty sure that he’d lost her for good either way. He would’ve settled for just staying friends, but he’d lost his temper and now he’d lost his best friend.

He couldn’t sleep.

When he’d returned home, JB’s car had still been in the parking garage. His mind couldn’t stop playing through the possibilities. Had she changed her mind? Was she taking a chance on JB? Or had JB just taken his place? He couldn’t believe that he’d let it go this far. He’d known that she had a thing for JB. She and JB had hit it off from the start. He’d gone into their arrangement knowing that eventually it would come to an end. He’d known that it would never be more than just sex. He’d agreed to that arrangement. How had he convinced himself that it might ever be something more?

He had never had the right to be jealous. Especially not now. They were done. She was free to see JB if she wanted. She’d always been free to see JB if she wanted.

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 bambam #kunpimook bhuwakul #bambam fic #bambam smut #bambam fluff #bambam angst #on the low

[razorblade180]

Sunshower 6

The day after a party, everyone’s worse nightmare. Even with more to come indefinitely, faunus weren’t immune to the effects of partying too hard. Morning had finally kissed Menagerie and those with jobs were the first to witness or feel the shock of Blake’s Homecoming. Streets and houses were littered with festivities along with plenty of red solo cups. Officer’s were up first to deal with any passed out people that were anywhere but their home. All in all, the first night was a hit; people’s spirits seemed to be through the roof. The wave of pleasure was sure to carry over to tonight.

It didn’t take long for the outside world to start rousing people from sleep; including Ilia. Slowly her eyes open to the dim sunlight hitting them; doing no good for her massive hangover. Things are fuzzy. Not to mention.....aching? Common for downing five too many but this felt different. Since when does drinking hurt your legs? Her right hand rubbed the bridge of her nose as she tried to adjust to being being sober again.

Ilia:(Ugh, where am I? Did I......fall asleep? Am I still asleep? No, too much pain to be a dream. Even my own thoughts sound way too loud...) *rubs her temples*

Ilia:(Okay, if I can survive the white fang then I push through this hangover and open my eyes to the very, very bright lights. Easy as one.....two.....thre-

‘Zzzzzzzz’

Ilia:Was that.....snoring?

Her eyes opened one at a time to lessen the pain. It took a few seconds to see clearly but eventually she did; still, Ilia needed a minute to process what she saw. The interior design told her she was in Blake’s house. The room wasn’t really messy which told her no one had come in during the party. The only visible mess were clothes.....? Her clothes at that. Both hands shot up to her head to feel that her hair was down as well. Finally a gasp was let out as her mind was finally catching up.

Ilia:(I’m in Blake’s house still!!! Not just that, but naked two!? What the actual hell happened last night!!? Party, drank, drank some more, also cried I think? Then I got fresh air with-)

‘Zzzzzzzz’

Ilia:......

Everything in her entire body told her to not look to her left. Pieces of memories she kept recalling demanded to know if they were being remembered right however. Something Ilia knew she most likely was since it would be just her luck. Time felt like it stopped as she finally turned to see the source of the snoring. Sure enough, Sun laid peacefully next to her with his head facing away from her. His short was off and she could spot it near the foot of the bed; along with the rest of his clothes. Brown skin turned white from the shock as freckles went straight to pink from embarrassment. Sun Wukong was currently naked and sleeping next to her who is also naked but now completely awake. Even the hangover took a backseat to this dump of information.

Ilia:.........

Ilia:(Oh fuck.......)

The boy was motionless; almost unnerving motionless. A dark thought started to grow in her head so gently she pulled the cover about an inch down and listened to his heart. Ilia’s nerves weren’t calmed to discover that he sounded and looked find. Now she could focus on major crisis. Leaving. She slid herself out from the side of covers and nearly dropped to the wooden floor. Blaming only the hangover would be a lie for the state of her poor motor skills yet thinking of other reasons why moving was a chore lead to topics she didn’t want to address at the moment. One problem at a time. Right now she needed to be presentable. It took some time but she managed dress herself for the most part. The ponytail was neglected as well as the jacket she wore.

Full stealth mode was happening right now. Each foot gently went in front of the other as she watched him to make sure he was still asleep. There was something unusual about the way he slept that Ilia couldn’t figure out. Oh well. She’d think about it later. Right now she is just relieved to have reached the door knob. At least she was until it started twisting from the other side. Someone was coming in...

Ilia:(No no no no no no no!!!!!!!! Crap what do I-)

*door opens*

Kali:*whispering* Pssst Sun? It’s morn.....ing? Ilia?

Ilia:.......I can explain! Things got crazy and we weren’t thinking! I was dr-

Kali:*covers Ilia’s mouth* Relax, you look like you’re about to faint. I didn’t even know you were at the party. Guess I know why *looks at bed*

Ilia:Please don’t mention this to anyone.

Kali:I wouldn’t even dream of it sweetie. I can’t tell you how crazy parties got back in me and Ghira’s day. My lips are sealed. *steps aside*

Ilia wouldn’t call herself a religious person, but Kali had to be a gift from above. She couldn’t help but hug the older woman as she walked out the room.

Kali:Oh, one more thing.

Ilia:What?

Kali:Blake and Yang are passed out on the couch and Ghira is making coffee in the kitchen so......might wanna use the balcony.

Ilia:I’m getting real sick of that balcony. Thank you.

She made a hard right as soon as she entered the hallway towards the balcony. Ilia was starting to miss simply walking through a doorway. It was time to put her skills to the test. Carefully she hoisted herself up on the railing and looked at the closet tree, then the ground.

Ilia:Should be easy enough.

Her foot slips right as she jumps around she hits the ground below. The only pain she feels is the bruised ego and what can only be described as her brain bouncing around. The fatigue of it all made the ground feel oddly comfortable. She took a moment to stare up at the sky; the shade from the balcony blocking the cruel sun. Soon she’d have to move.

Kali:*looks down* Are you okay?

Ilia:Honestly, not my worst screw up in recent months.

Kali:Fair enough. You forgot your scroll up here by the way.

Ilia:Probably for the best considering what just happened. Kali can you do me favor? I need you to make a call.

xxx

Neptune:.......*sips coffee*

Neptune:Can you walk.

Ilia:Yeah

Neptune:Can you walk well?

Ilia:No......got a feeling I twisted my ankle a little. Among other stuff.

Neptune:And you don’t ask Kali for first aid because.....?

Ilia:I am not going back in that house right now. Just help me up please? My aura will fix it soon enough.*raises arm* Mind being my crutch?

Neptune:I could just carry you on my back?

Ilia:Neptune I need just a little dignity right now so if you could just get under my arm and then stand up please.

Neptune:But your so short. I’d have to be hunched over and-

Ilia:You dined and dash yesterday! Can you please just-

Neptune:Fine! *supports her* happy?

Ilia:A little. Can we go to your motel room? My home is way too far of a walk.

Neptune:Fine by mean. I’d get lost anyways. *starts walking*

Ilia:Thank you...

Neptune:Yep. So.....any reason why you look vanilla swirl with pink sprinkles?

Ilia:It’s been an overwhelming forty minutes since I woke up.

Neptune:Does it have something to do with sleeping with my best friend?

Ilia:*eyes widened* What are you talk- why would I....sigh

Neptune:Not even denying it. Don’t worry about responding to it right now. Just enjoy the fresh air and walk.

Ilia:(easier said then done.)

The duo hobbled in silence for awhile. It would look suspicious if there wasn’t plenty of other people still getting their barrings. Neptune kept his eyes forward to look out for anything. Ilia was busy zoning out. The initial shock of everything had finally warn off and her skin went back to its natural color; except for her freckles. The darker spots were still pink and only getting pinker as she hopelessly tried to think of anything but last night. Blood rushed to her face out of embarrassment.

Neptune:Heads up Ilia.

Ilia:Hmmm? *looks up* Oh......

A menagerie officer stands before them with their hands on their hips; a fox tail wraps around their slim frame as they stare down the two.

Neptune:Who’s your foxy friend Ilia?

Cop:That’s racist....

Neptune:Crap! I’m sorry!!! You know I kinda thought it was stupid to say out loud but-

Ilia:They’re joking around. Neptune this is Judy. Judy this is Neptune, he’s a bit dumb but I’ve been told he’s pretty valid as a person.

Judy:Haha, he must be if Ghira hasn’t thrown in the ocean yet.

Neptune:He....he does that?

Judy:Only to pests. For the record, I’d play it say and refrain from animal puns or jokes. Any other faunus might’ve gotten a bit rowdy.

Neptune:Noted. So....any reason someone as beautiful as yourself came strolling this way?

Judy:Just helping where I could when suddenly I see Miss. Bomb Defuser strolling by. You haven’t checked in with me in a couple of days. I don’t have to remind you that multiple cops and gaurds are still twitchy about your circumstances do I?

Neptune:Wait, is Judy-

Ilia:Yes Neptune, Judy is my parole officer.

Judy:Come now, you aren’t on parole. It just makes a lot of people feel better if you can be accounted for regularly by the authorities and sometimes help around the place to rebuild your self ima-

Ilia:Judy.......it’s parole.

Judy:........*nods* Yeah I guess it is, sorry.

Neptune:Well if that’s the case I can vouch for her and say for the pass few days she’s done nothing but help organize the party and decided to indulge in the festivities last night. You can even find a copy of all the decorations she’s done at the Belladonna estate signed off by Ghira himself.

Ilia:!!!!?

Judy:Woah, well that makes things easier. Thank you Neptune. I guess you really are valid.

Ilia:You’re telling me.

Judy:Anyways, I’m gonna head out but actually go check in next time so we don’t have to think about sending a search party. *walking away*

Ilia:I’ll think about it.

Judy:Ilia.....

Ilia:Goodbye Judy! Start walking Neptune before we here a long winded speech about the wall.

Neptune:*walks* Judy seems nice.

Ilia:Surprised you barely flirted through that conversation. I was waiting for you to make a mistake like most people do around Judy.

Neptune:Mistake? What mistake?

Ilia:If you haven’t figured it out yet then who am I to tell?

Neptune:*smiles*

Ilia:What?

Neptune:You’ve calmed down from the looks of it.

Ilia:Oh, I guess I have.

Neptune:Good, because we’re here.

Motels were something menagerie was getting used to since Haven. Plenty of faunus has stopped by to figure out if they also wanted to move in and even important figures across Remnant wanted to discuss human and faunus relations as a new organization formed. So a motel half the size of Blake’s home was built a little ways west of the main part of the island. Here people could easily access the beach or look inward to all the people and get a glimpse of what a regular day here looks like.

Neptune took pride and being the first human to have an indefinite stay at the beautiful place; even Ilia hasn’t been around it much. He lead her to his room there was a back porch that faced the sea with a hammock. The room itself was wood furnished with a decent sized bed in the middle and two night standing on each side. The golden brown look of it all gave off a vibe of warm flames and deep heritage. Neptune guided her to the hammock then went back inside to grab some pills and water bottles before coming back out. He didn’t have to say anything before she grabbed both of them and open the lid.

Neptune:I’m guessing your hangover headache was really bad.

Ilia:You guessed correctly. Thank you by the way, for all this. Especially with Judy.

Neptune:Someone had to keep track of supplies since you and Sun made a competition.

Ilia:Makes sense. By the way.....Judy is-

Neptune:I figured it out on the way here.

Ilia:Okay, I was gonna feel a bit bad if I didn’t say something.

Neptune:Trust me, I’ve developed a sense for these things after meeting you. Still, they are pretty cool. Probably knows how to party.

Ilia:Don’t tell your date from last night that, or is she already out of the picture? This room is surprisingly clean for a playboy after a party. House keeping works fast.

Neptune:House keeping only had to dust. Nothing happened in this room last night. I took that girl home after the fireworks because boy was she out of it. I tried calling Sun to let him know where I was but he never answered. That’s when a gut feeling told me to look for high points and I saw you two on the roof.

Ilia:Oh......

Neptune:Didn’t think much of it. Even after I saw him pick you up and lead you inside. There was a little chatter about a spunky drunk girl that told of some creep inside with the help of a monkey faunus so I assumed that you were thoroughly wasted; which makes sense after what you did at the restaurant. Sun was with you and both of you were pretty bummed out the whole night so I thought “they’ll probably go ditch the thing and I’ll see him later.” But then I didn’t......

Ilia:Uuuuuuummmmmmm.....

Neptune:Sun is a big boy and knows the place so I didn’t think much of it. I’d catch up with him tomorrow morning. Tomorrow becomes today and as I reach for my scroll expecting apology messages from him, it’s Kali telling me to come pick you up from the house as quickly and discreetly as possible. Now I hate to make assumptions, but I’ve done my fair share of unsuccessful balcony exits. What they all have in common is what I did the night before to prompt such a hasty exit.

Ilia:What are you? Some kind of jr detective?

Neptune:When it comes to crimes of the heart I find all the clues.

Ilia:It’s not a crime of the heart it’s just.....ugh. *lays down* Gods I feel stupid. What possessed me to think sleeping with Sun was a good idea to push away pain.

Neptune:I know your teenage years aren’t exactly normal but that’s about as normal as teenage thought processes go. He was depressed, you were depressed, tons of alcohol, and common ground found at a late night party. I’m not saying I expected this because I didn’t, but makes sense.

Ilia:You don’t understand Neptune! What happened shouldn’t have happened, but it did and now I just feel....weird. I can’t remember all of last night right now but I remember a decent amount. Things I wish I didn’t.

Neptune:Like?

Ilia:I said things. Personal things I don’t share freely. I was hurt but things felt, okay? Yet so wrong at the same time.

Neptune:*frowns* Do you feel used?

Ilia:No, heavens no. If anything I sort of feel like I used him a little. Which was not my intention.

Neptune:What was your intention?

Ilia:I DON’T KNOW!!!!!! I just remember feeling..... something. Whatever the hell it was....

.........

Neptune:Do you....regret it?

Ilia:What?

Neptune:Do you regret last night?

Ilia:I’m, not exactly sure.

Neptune:Well maybe start there and everything else might fall into place? I’m not saying this isn’t a big deal or anything but trust me when I say this does not have to be some staggering revelation. Beer has a way of blurring that line.

Ilia:Sigh, I’m not prepared to talk to Sun about this.

Neptune:Lucky for you, he normally blacks-out when he gets too drunk.

Ilia:Seriously?

Neptune:Yeah he doesn’t like drinking. I think he only did it because of how upset he was.

Ilia:Oh......*turns blue*

Neptune:Uh oh, what’s wrong?

Ilia:Even if he doesn’t remember, it’s wrong to keep that from him right?

Neptune:Tricky question. Personally, I’d tell him if you feel weird about it. Sort out your feelings on the situation and if it meant nothing to you and was just something that happened then by all means, I’ll keep the secret.

Ilia:But.....?

Neptune:Blake and Sun are only friends with compassionate people, so I know last night meant something to you in one shape or form. I’ll be here figure it out if you want and anything else you might need. That way you can tell him with a clear head.

The more Neptune spoke, the more Ilia had to keep rethinking her description of him. Sun wasn’t just hyping him up whenever he told her that Neptune has more heart than she realized. His words, his smile, everything he did today made that statement....valid.

Ilia:I’m sorry Neptune.

Neptune:For what?

Ilia:Downplaying you constantly. You’re actually really sweet. So I’m sorry.

Neptune:Oh *red* well don’t go spreading that around alright. Some of these girls are really buying the whole cool yet distant act I’m putting on.

Ilia:*snickers* Alright, I guess I can do that. Hey is it alright if I can just lay here for a bit and just relax?

Neptune:Sure, it’ll help get my lien’s worth out of this place. *going inside*

Ilia:How much is this room?

Neptune:Too much Ilia! It’s too much! At least the water is free, I hope.

Ilia:(Funny, forgot to call himself compassionate as well. Maybe that’s why Sun likes him?)

Neptune:*scrolling* Hmm?

*one new message*

Sun: “Hey man, sorry about last night.”

Neptune: “Don’t sweat it dude.”

Sun: “So uh....can I come over? I gotta talk to you.”

Neptune:........

Neptune: “About?”

Sun: “About something that happened last night.”

Neptune:*turns around*

Ilia:*sleeping peacefully*

Neptune: “How about we meet somewhere for breakfast instead? Just to get out and about?”

Sun: “Sounds like a plan. Thanks bro”

Neptune:(Well I guess this is happening now.)

xxx

Sun:*holding Ilia’s scrunchy*......... oh boy.

Part 5

#rwby sunshower #rwby #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #kali belladonna #sun x ilia #rwby sunspots #bmblb

[sluggerbot-2-5]

Mrs. Fluffybottom

Summary: Roman and Remus go out in the imagination for a quest when Roman gets turned into a kid and shenanigans ensue.

Characters: Roman Sanders, kid!Roman, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders(mentioned), Dragon witch(mentioned).

Warnings: Remus being Remus, embarrassment, threatening, cursing, mentions of someone blowing up(let me know if I missed anything).

Words: 3,031

The twins had finished setting up the tents and were unpacking the necessities for their trip. Luckily, these were the kind that were bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. "Alright. We're all set" Roman padded his back pockets. "Except for the map. Hey Remus, can you grab it from my bag?"

"Yeah sure." Remus searched through the bag and before finding the map, he spotted something else.

He picked it up and snorted at the sight before him. There in his hands, was Romans old stuffed bunny.

"Unbelievable." He muttered with a smile.

"What? What is it?" Roman asked. He walked over to see if Remus found the map but instead he saw what he actually found. He snatched it out of Remus' hands as his brother bursted out laughing. "You still carry that thing around with you?" Remus chuckled. "No! I don't!" Roman protested. "Then why was it in your bag?" Roman felt the heat in his face. He stuttered trying to get his thought out.

"P-patton must have put it in there." He said as his voice cracked.

Remus raised his eyebrow and smirked. "That's the story you're going with?" Roman paused before answering. "Yes. Now would you stop fucking around? Let's just get the map and go." Remus laughed a little, pulling the folded piece of paper out and shoving it into his chest.

He walked away smiling and grabbed his stuff while on the way out. Before going out to catch up with Remus, Roman fixed the dress on Mrs. Fluffybottom and gently put her back in the bag while muttering an apology.

***

They were a good way to their destination when they were attacked by the Dragon witch. This wasn't really a problem as they were both itching for some action.

They were going through the runs of the battle when the Dragon witch pulled out potion bottles. She began throwing several explosives at them when Roman had gotten hit with one. Remus did his best to quickly finish her off so he could go see if Roman was okay. He didn't remember seeing him get back up.

He walked over to where he last saw Roman but didn't see anything. He then heard rustling in a bush somewhere in front of him. "Roman?" He saw a head of hair poke out and nod but nothing was said. "Are you hurt?" He shook his head no. "Alright, well if you're okay then we should get a move on."

"Mm-m." He heard from behind. Remus was a little confused. If nothing was wrong then what was the hold-up? "Why not?" He whined. Roman sighed and took a deep breath. "You promise you won't laugh?" It sounded like Romans' voice cracked...for the whole sentence. Remus tilted his head like a dog. "Why?"

Roman gave another sigh and slowly stepped out from behind the bush. He was around three feet tall and the top part of his uniform covered his whole body. The sleeves were baggy and everything. Roman was a kid.

There was a brief silence before cackling was heard from Remus. This upset Roman immensely. "You said you wouldn't laugh!" Remus tried to talk in between laughs.

"I made-haha- no promise whatsoever! Aha haha!" While Remus was laughing, Roman was having a fit of his own.

This was just embarrassing and Remus laughing at him didn't make it any better. He wanted to crawl in a whole and never come out.

Remus stopped laughing to see Roman looking down as his eyes became glossy. "Wait...are you crying?" Roman realized this and tried to hide behind his sleeves hoping Remus couldn't see anything. "No!" Remus sighed. He felt this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was this supposed to be...guilt?

He walked over to him and knelt down. "Hey, hey stop crying. Look, the witch dropped her sack of shit over there. It'sa stretch, but maybe something in there can fix you, alright?"

Roman wiped his eyes and sniffled while nodding his head. "Okay." Remus smiled down at him then looked at his outfit. Now to deal with this problem. Remus grabbed Romans arm and pulled back the sleeve. He took a good look at Roman before asking

"What would you say your waist is right now?"

***

"Are you done?" Remus asked.

"Almost...done." Remus turned around to see Roman in his new and improved suit. He tailored in a way so that when he turns back, it'll grow with him. It didn't look too bad. Roman seemed to be pretty happy with it.

"Aww look at you," Remus said in a teasing tone. "you almost look cute!" Roman made an angry pouting face and rolled his eyes. "Shut up." Remus chuckled. "What? I'm just saying. It's not half bad."

"It's my suit." Roman retorted. "Yeah, that I fixed."

Roman crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Thank you though." Remus smiled and ruffled Romans hair. "No problem short stack." Roman grumbled trying to fix his hair. "Hey!" Remus chuckled. "Are you gonna do that the whole time?" "Yes." Remus said with a smug look. Roman rolled his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the day ahead of him.

Despite his situation, he was going to be the bigger man here...or at least try to be. "I will not tolerate your foolish nicknames. I am a grown man and will be treated as-" Roman paused to see Remus' face as he tried to hold back laughter. He growled in annoyance. "Will you please take this seriously?" Roman growled. Remus laughed lightly and wiped his eyes.

"I'm sorry, but it so hard to. I mean look at you! You're like a chihuahua- I could punt you for miles."

Remus reached his hand out for Roman but had it slapped away. "If you touch me I will end you where you stand." He said in a serious tone. "Yeesh, cranky much?" Remus chuckled at him. Roman was doing his best to keep his composure. He took a deep breath and asked if they could just move along.

"Alright, we'll get going. Are your little legs gonna be able to keep up?" Remus said in a mocking tone. Roman narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Yes." He said sharply.

"You sure? Do you want uppie?"

Remus said bent down with his arms out as if to pick him up. That was the last straw for Roman. He kicked Remus in the shins and bolted in the direction of their camp. "AH! You son of a bitch!" Remus screamed. He grabbed his leg in pain.

Roman shouted, "Try and keep up with my tiny legs now!" I'm gonna ring that kids neck! "You little shit, just wait till I get my hands on you!"

***

When they got back, it was late so they made a small fire, had something to eat, and went to their separate tents for the night. Roman walked into his and just as he was about to go to bed Remus poked his head in and greeted Roman with a mischevious smile. Roman gave him a deadpan look. "What?" He asked flatly. Remus put his hands up in defense. "Relax, I just came in to say good night." He paused as if he had something else to say and Roman was waiting for it. Remus smirked slowly.

"Do you want me to tuck you in?"

Roman grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "GET OUT!"

In the middle of the night, however, it had begun to thunderstorm. In any other circumstance, this would have been fine. It's soothing and easy to fall asleep to. But tonight was different.

Remus had been sleeping fine until he rolled on his other side and felt something there. He opened his eyes to see Roman inches away from him. He screamed in surprise which caused Roman to scream. He sat up and looked at Roman. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Sleeping." He said. "No, I mean what are you doing in my tent?" Roman twiddled his fingers not making eye contact when he mumbled something. "-under." "What?"

"I got scared of the thunder!"

Remus couldn't believe it. Is he being serious right now? There was no way. "You're kidding me right?" Judging by the look of shame on his face it was a low chance. "No..." Roman rubbed his arm uncomfortably. "Can I stay here tonight? Please?"

Remus was a little uncomfortable himself at the moment, but he decided to let it slide for tonight. "Yeah sure. Just give me a minute." As mentioned before, Remus likes to sleep in the "buff" and he had to put something on if Roman was gonna stay in here. Right now the only thing covering him was the covers and that wouldn't do.

After that was done they settled in and slept somewhat peacefully throughout the night.

***

Last night wasn't the only odd occurrence with Roman. The next night it was 'I had a bad dream' and if not that then 'I don't want to sleep alone'. There were several things that he did that were well...childish. It seemed the longer he stayed this way the more he started to act like an actual kid. It was annoying.

Remus had to act fast with the potions, but it was easier said than done. There were so many and barely any of them had labels. Not only that but he was running out of things to test them on. He already destroyed half the surrounding forest with them.

He could give them to Roman to try, but because several were explosives he couldn't. Although watching his brother explode into a million pieces would be a sight, he would never hear the end of it from the others. So he had to restrain himself from killing him.

No matter how much he was tempted to.

Luckily today was the day. He finally found the potion to turn Roman back to normal. Now all he had to do was get him to drink it.

"Hey Roman, come here!" Roman came to Remus with a pep in his step.

He knelt down in front of him with the bottle in his hand. "Here. Drink this." Roman gave him a funny look. "What's gonna happen when I drink it?" Roman asked skeptically.

Remus rolled his eyes "Fireworks." He said sarcastically. "Like those fireworks?" He pointed towards the carnage of tree remains behind him. Remus shrugged. "Yeah sure. Why not." He said blandly.

He tried to give it to Roman but he pushed it away. "Drink it." "No! You're gonna blow me up. " He whined.

"If I wanted to I could've done that a long time ago. Now take the damn drink!" Roman ran away and Remus had to chase him.

Roman ducked over and under the desk, behind small furniture along with other items. He ran circles around Remus until he tackled him. Remus held Roman tight as he tried his best to get him to drink the potion. "Drink it!"

He said as he shoved the bottle in his face. Roman shook his head and kept his mouth shut. Remus tried to pry his mouth open but that just ended with Roman biting his finger and not letting go.

"OW!" He shouted in pain. Two can play at that game. As Roman tried to push him away by his face, Remus took hold of one of Romans' fingers and bit down.

All that could be heard was Roman's bloodcurdling scream. It was so piercing that Remus' ears were ringing. He had to let him go to cover his ears. It was long enough for Roman to escape his grasp a squeeze into a small space where Remus couldn't get to him.

"FUCK! I thought only dogs could hear a sound like that!"

Remus stood up in a huff and stormed off to try and blow off some steam.

All he was doing was trying to help Roman, which by the way, he didn't have to do. So the fact that he was acting like this was pissing him off even more.

Ungrateful little shit. I outta tear his fucking head off. Remus started trashing his brothers tent. He threw everything in every other direction and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. How the hell am I supposed to get him to take it? He growled and kicked Romans bag causing some of the items to spill out. He looked over at it and got an idea.

He picked up the bag and started rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out of the bag smiling devilishly.

Bingo.

***

Roman was still hiding when he heard footsteps coming. Remus came in with his hands behind his back and a wide grin spread across his face. "Oh Roman." He drew out in a sing-song voice. "Look who I found." Roman poked his head out in curiosity and gasped. "Mrs. Fluffybottom!"

Remus feigned shock. "Oh is that her name?" Roman nodded slowly. "Ah. Such a pretty little thing. It'd be a damn shame if something were to happen to her." Remus said eyeing Roman with a wide grin. Roman came out if his hiding spot very quickly. He glared daggers at Remus.

"You wouldn't." He said.

Remus grabbed his pocket knife from his side and flicked it open. He then held it to the toy never breaking eye contact.

"Oh, I think we both know I would."

Romans eyes went wide. He ran up to Remus and jumped to try and grab the bunny. "Give her back!" He shouted. But it was pointless as he was too short and Remus held it far from his reach.

"Careful. My hand might slip." He said pushing the knife into the doll. Roman stopped and begged him not to. Remus smiled as his plan fell into place. "Let's make a deal shall we?" He paused to see Roman listening eagerly. "I'll give you Mrs. Fluffybottom if you take the drink from earlier."

Roman made an angry pout. "No way!" Without hesitation, Remus made a small cut in the toy. It was enough to see some stuffing poking out. Roman screamed in horror and started to jump up and down having a tantrum. "Put her down, put her down, put her da-ha-hown!" He cried with tears threatening to fall.

"Are you gonna drink it?" Remus said .

Roman whined a response while making grabby hands at his bunny. "Is that a yes?" Remus said making the cut bigger. Roman screamed.

"Yes, yes, I'll drink it! Stop hurting her!" Remus smiled triumphantly and closed the knife. He then used the same hand to trade it out for the bottle in his pocket.

He handed it to Roman and watched him reluctantly chug the potion.

***

After Roman was back to his old self they decided they had enough adventure for a while.

Roman felt a little awkward around Remus though. It was embarrassing to think about the behavior he displayed around him. He had preferred if they never spoke of it again.

He took a deep breath and decided that the longer he waited to talk to him, the harder it would be. He walked out of his tent and over to Remus'. When he saw Remus, his back was turned as he was putting stuff away and into his bag. He tensed up upon seeing him. Just breath.

He took a deep breath, stood up straight, and cleared his throat. Remus turned his head to Roman and watched him give an awkward wave. "What?"

Shit I forgot everything.

"Um...I uh wanted to say thanks for uh help- er fixing me? I don't know how to put it." Roman looked back up at Remus giving a blank stare. He was making this so much more awkward than it had to be. "And I wanted to apologize for giving you such a hard time. I know I was a-" Remus interrupted. "A royal pain in my ass?" He said leaning up against the table with a slightly annoyed tone. Roman looked away embarrassed and nodded. He really did piss him off, or so he thought.

"Alright. Is that it?" "Um, yeah?" Roman hoped that if he didn't bring up the whole 'telling everybody' part then he would forget about it. "Okay." Roman let out a sigh of relief. "But" I knew there was gonna be a 'but.' "You owe me. Big time." "Fine." Roman said.

"I mean it. Or if you want I could just tell everyone about what happened. "Remus smirked.

"Ugh, I knew you would pull something like that!" Roman grumbled. Remus smiled. "Ugh, whatever! Let's just shake on it." He stuck his hand out and Remus gladly shook it. Not before licking his hand of course.

Roman shuddered and wiped his hand on his pants. "Hey princess, mind doing me a favor and bringing all of this back home?" Romans eyes widened. "Wha-" "Thanks!" And without another word he left Roman to do all the heavy lifting. Roman growled in frustration before grabbing a bag and slinging over his shoulder. "Asswhole."

***

Roman was finally back in his room where he could rest on his bed. He went to reach for his phone but it wasn't there. He thought that it might be in his bag. He groaned before getting up, unzipping his bag, and grabbing his phone.

Before leaving it he caught a glimpse of Mrs. Flufflybottom in the corner of his eye.

He thought back to how Remus cut her open and cringed. Yeesh! He should probably fix that. He sighed grabbing the toy. He turned her around but then he paused.

She was already sewn up. But he didn't remember fixing her. Or putting her in his bag for that matter. Now that he thought about it, Remus never gave her back.

However, he did remember Remus leaving his tent shortly before he entered to finish packing. He didn't have solid evidence but he could speculate.

He smiled fondly. His brother could be hard on him sometimes and he was nowhere near perfect.

But he wasn't that bad.

#creativitwins #remus sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #kid!roman #dragon witch #kid fic #remus being remus

[oh-beyond]

Idol’s life - Family day?

Chen was so stressed and busy, schedules on a daily basis, no joy, no rest, no nothing, SM getting into his private life way too much, overwhelmed, doesn’t have a moment to even breath, he was done… but meeting this foreigner unexpectedly will make his days more manageable.

Fluff but it’s Chen so he always tries to add a bit of spice to everything because… it’s this cheeky person he is.

Chen (Canon) x Reader

Masterlist

< Love is in the air 💓 ✈  - Clubbing >

He sat quietly. His elbows rested on his knees while his fingers entwined nervously. He cleared his throat following you with his eyes as you brought the food from the kitchen. Every now and then locking eyes with your father, that sat across him not impressed. Jongdae simply smiled praying for you to come back and sit next to him again.

And finally…

“Dinner is ready, shall we?”

“YES WE SHALL!” exclaimed Jongdae way too excited to be saved from the awkward silence.

Nothing was really heard except for the cutlery hitting the plates, Jongdae stuffed his mouth looking at the plate, he wanted this agony to be over.

“So… you are Chinese?”

“Dad! KO-RE-A!”

“Whatever, he looks Chinese to me, all the same.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at your mom that was being way to quiet for your liking, she just smiled at Jongdae.

“Haha, no it’s alright, you are right sir, anyways, Korea and China share frontier, well not entirely really, but like North Korea, we were one nation till year 195-”

“Oppa” you interrupted his nervous nonsense speech.

“What is that you called him?” asked you dad.

“Oppa, well that is a term used by younger women to address an older male, normally brother or-”

“Brother? What is he your boyfriend or your brother ___?”

“No sir what I meant-”

“Oppa, stop talking, will you?” you said placing your hand over his thigh to calm him down.

“So you are rich?” your dad continued.

“Dad! Enough already, or we will go to a hotel, really he doesn’t have to listen to this”

Jongdae shut his eyes in embarrassment, he just stood up and bowed at your father 90º bow.

“She didn’t mean to say that. I apologise, she would never stay they night with me. Haha. No never. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. I mean I would love to marry her. One day, then she can sleep w- I mean she ca- we will b-”

“Ahww poor baby, look he is babbling and blushing” said your mother getting up encircling her arm around Jonddae’s shoulders “it’s alright Jong-jung”

“Call him Chen mom, ughrrr. See this is why I didn’t want to come?”

“Oh but what happened to your neck there? Is tha-”

“Mom!” you interrupted her as she pulled on Jongdae’s collar to take a look at the bite mark.

“What is it?” asked your dad now suddenly interested.

“Now honey, I think that enough interrogations for today” said your mom smiling “let’s have dinner peacefully, and Chen, ___’s room is ready for you, and you can share it, it’s alright baby.”

Jongdae covered his face flustered, he wasn’t used to being so open. Also he didn’t know that you were actually going to share the room, he thought that he would sleep in the couch. This was all so sudden.

“Yeah share the room, but if you get her pregnant I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

There was no need to get you pregnant, your dad just happen to killed Jongdae with that last statement alone.

“THAT’S IT! WE ARE LEAVING!” you exclaimed taking Jongdae’s hand in yours pulling at him to follow you.

“Enough ___! Apologise” demanded your mother looking at your father “what’s wrong with you?”

“No mom, we are leaving” you continued heading towards the door.

Jongdae was just thunderstruck ‘don’t get her pregnant’ rang in his ear in mantra, goosebumps formed throughout all his exposed skin, he was like hit by something heavy on the head, his eyes wide open, he looked dumb.

“Oppa come on.”

“No you are staying, Jongdae is our guest, you know your father”

“I know him, but my boyfriend here doesn’t and he doesn’t have to deal with him, so I am taking my boyfriend and we are going to go to a nice hotel and enjoy ourselves not getting pregnant.”

Jongdae just did a face-palm, at this stage he wanted to vanish in thin air, he felt tiny and absolutely exposed and vulnerable, and he hated that feeling.

“I apologise for this, please accept my sincere apology” Jongade started to bow again over and over to wash his embarrassment away.

After dinner your dad went out. Jongdae was relieved in a way, he also failed to convince your mother to let you go to a hotel, so he gave in and decided to enjoy his time. That is if he could.

You cleared the table and set the dishwasher. When you went to the living room Jongade was engaged in this nice conversation with your mother showing her some of his solo songs on his phone. She had that impressed expression in her face. You knew it would be easy for Jongdae to make your mom fall for him, and it was obvious with all the praising he was receiving. You were happy for that, you decided to stand and watch them interact. At some point she even hugged him and even kissed his cheeks.

“So… where am I going to sleep?”

“In bed? With me?”

“Unless you want to share bed with my husband” added your mom enjoying the panic on Jondade’s face “he’s so cute ___.”

“Thanks mom. I know.”

Jongdae was just standing in your room watching you and your mom having this talk ignoring the fact that he was just right there uncomfortable so.

“So you can have a shower, if you need towels- come let me show you.”

“NO! NO SHOWER. NO NAKED, I WON’T GET NAK-”

Your mom just burst into laughter “you got some boy here ___, alright so I guess you won’t go to the toilet either?”

“Mom! Drop it already, you are making him regret coming here.”

And regret he did.

“Yes you are right, look at his flushed cheeks, awww you are adorable Chen” she added squeezing his cheeks.

Jongdae wanted to just disappear, why was he so nervous? He needed to improvise, his image was shitty, almost felt like a kidnapped 5 year old.

“Alright kids, so I will let you sleep, goodnight” said your mom waving at you two.

“Wait! Ammm, I- I have… something for you” said Jongdae nervous “It’s something small” he added still standing there.

“O-K Chen, what is it?”

“Ah yes” he replied nervously opening to his suitcase.

He got a small black silk bag, he went closer to your mom and opened it getting out a small red velvet box offering it to her.

“For me?” she asked surprised.

Jongdae nodded his head and spread one of those signature smiles on his face.

She opened the box and there were 2 identical rings.

“Oh dear, ___! Your guy here is proposing to me!”

“No no, I mean-” Jongdae believed it.

“There are 2″ you stated crossing your arms over your chest “is one for dad?”

Jongdae started to sweat.

“No, let me explain. These are called Garakji rings, were famous in Joseon era, this was only for married women. If a woman put on only one ring in her finger, it means she was a single. Only married women put on a pair of rings, which means harmony with her husband.”

“They are so unique, so Korean!” you mom took one and placed it in her finger “fits perfectly.”

Jongdae took the other one and placed it on her.

“Thanks Chen, they are beautiful” she gave him a hug wiping a little tear that formed in the corner of her eye.

You watched how happy he was as he was being hugged by your mom. He winked at you as he tapped on her back.

“It’s funny though, kind of similar to what you got him right ___?”

“Mom!”

“What?”

“You got me something jagi?”

“Alright, now I am leaving” your mom announced closing the door behind her.

“Thanks for that, they are beautiful oppa.”

“I’m glad” Jongdae exhaled sitting down in your bed running his hands over his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked rubbing his back.

“I didn’t know we were going to sleep in the same room, I was not prepared to get this exposed, I’m not used to this, if I bought a girl home and slept with her in the same room my parents would have me hanged from my balls.”

“Oh no I wouldn’t allow that happen to your jewels” you smiled patting his crotch, taking him by surprise again.

“You are shy? Since when Kim Jongdae?”

“Stop that. And your dad hates me.”

“He hates everyone.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better, I still think I should go to a hotel.”

“Nope! You are staying here with me in my bed.”

“Jagi… I’m not feeling it- I just can’t”

You ignored him peeling yourself from your clothes, revealing that wine colour lingerie set you got… Victoria Secret was your best friend, she was capable of turning any situation around.

You turned around facing him and his mouth was agape. His eyebrows couldn’t lie, they gave him in way too easily.

“In that case you should sleep oppa, you seem tense and tired” you dipped your knees in the mattress and positioned yourself behind him rubbing his shoulders “just relax and sleep…” you spoke on his ear, the hair in the back of his neck standing like thorns.

He turned around to face you, his face expression still in shock “jagi~~~, wear something, don’t touch me like that?”

“Like what? You perv, you turn everything into sexual.”

“Jagi you are in fucking lace lingerie giving me a massage in bed. What do you want me to turn it into? Philosophy class?”

“Fine! You don’t want massages, suit yourself.”

“Put something on!”

“It’s warm, I can’t.”

Jongdae exhaled closing his eyes “bathroom, where is the bathroom?”

“Are you going to jerk off in our bathroom Kim Jongdae?”

“Jagi! Why are you so… like this all of a sudden?”

“What?” you laughed out loud.

He washed his face and changed into comfy Bermuda shorts and a plain t-shirt. He opened the door to the bathroom hearing your dad downstairs. He sprinted back to your room to avoid meeting him, he tried to open the door to your room but ti was locked.

“Jagi jagi, the door open fast!”

“Why?”

“Open the door, your dad is here quick!”

“What will you give me in return?”

“Jagi no time to be petty right now, please~~~”

“Answer.”

“Anything, I swear whatever you want”

“Will you do anything I ask you to do?”

“JAGI, YES! THE DOOR, PLEASE, I HEAR FOOTSTEPS” he whispered-shouted desperate at this stage.

“Your tongue…”

“My tongue? What about my tongue!?” he asked in panic.

“What about your tongue?” your mom asked from behind.

He winced in surprise, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, his back plastered to your door as if caught doing something.

At least it wasn’t your dad.

“You will eat me out tonight Kim Jongdae, I heard wonders about Korean and their tongues, very important thing that we lack in Europe. I heard oral sex is amazing”

Your mom headed towards him, he just banged the door for you to stop talking.

“Are you alright Chen? Why are you here?” asked your mom.

“YES! I’M FINE THANKS! ___ IS JUST CHANGING, SO I AM WAITING FOR HER TO FINISHHHHH, ARE YOU DONE JAGI???”

“Pathetic Kim Jongdae. Disappointing. Now you haven’t answered me will you do that for me tonight?”

“Do what ___? Open the door! Chen is here standing, what is this nonsense of having him outside till you get changed?”

Jongdae was hyperventilating at this stage, you opened the door tying the belt of your robe around your waist. Jongdae looked like a teenager scolded, he wanted to faint on the bed waking up and find out that this was all a nightmare.

“Hi mom, he’s fine”

“Alright children, goodnight.”

She was about to leave when she saw the bite on his neck clearly now that the t-shirt he wore was wide neck. Her eyes widening.

“Oh my god!” she gasped covering her mouth “___! Did you do that?”

Jongdae covered it with his hand sitting in bed now really dizzy. His first European experience was going really bad. He was dying internally from embarrassment.

“Answer me! What are you an animal?” she continued “poor baby, I’m sorry Chen, if she ever does anything like that again… I swear.”

At this stage Jongdae covered his face with both hands, this was not happening.

“Alright mom we are tired we really need to sleep.”

“Oppa? Are you good with Minseok and Junmyeon now? I really hate if you were not in good terms, I mean it was my fault.”

“Don’t worry about it” he said his voice sounding far and muffled by the bed cover.

“Are you really not going to even talk to me?” you spoke on his back as your hand brought him closer to your chest.

“Are you going to put some clothes on?”

“How are you going to do what I asked you to do if I put clothes on?”

He turned to face you, resting his head on his elbow moving the duvet down to discover you were still only in that that lingerie set.

In that Victoria Secret’s laced lingerie set.

He sighed falling back on the pillow looking at the ceiling.

“Oppa~~~”

“Don’t- you and aegyo are not good friends.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I am not, but I can’t, so please don’t make it harder on me.”

“Harder on you? Let me check”

He gasped when he felt your hand there facing you again.

“Remove your hand.”

“Oppa it’s hard, let’s take care of it, hmm?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose “I can’t, not here, your parents are right there”

“So you are not going to…”

“Why are you so bold all of a sudden?”

“I’m just frustrated, I need you.”

“Well I need you always and there’s always a reason not to”

“Oppa!”

“No!”

“Fine!”

You gave him your back pulling the duvet to cover yourself.

Not even 5 minutes later he turned around, you felt his lips on your bare back, you didn’t push him away, you knew he would be the one initiating things, that was Victoria’s biggest secret…

“What?”

“If I do it… will you promise me to be quiet?”

You turned and faced him “I don’t know, I never-”

“It will be hard, I tell you. I have some skill.”

“Won’t believe it until I see for myself.”

“Do I need to bring you to your parent’s house to get you to be this bold?”

You replied with a kiss, you quietened him and made him respond to you immediately. He was so predictable, so easy to wrap him around your finger. You just loved it.

In no time he was lifting himself caging you between his arms and his body without breaking the needy kiss.

“Oppa!” you said pushing him lightly to see his face.

He was towering above you, with that smirk that made you lose control over your senses.

“Hmm? What is it? Can’t I kiss you before I go down on you?”

“Are you rea-”

Oh his kisses in your neck were the ones that made you go mute, your muscles clenching at the tickling sensation.

“So weak jagi, you won’t be able to handle what I do” he darted his tongue out tasting your sensitive skin “you are too innocent for this.”

You pushed on his shoulders guiding him down “do it, don’t make me beg”

“I’d like to hear you beg, jagiya. Beg for me.”

“Your tongue” you said feeling his lips kissing your bellybutton.

“Yes? What about my tongue?”

You looked at yourself and saw his beautiful eyes looking up at you.

“Do it Dae~~~” your voice sounding low and sexy, your toes poking his thighs.

It was as if you had just pushed the ‘On’ button, he got up from bed and in a blink of an eye his t-shirt and Bermudas where out of the way.

He came and jumped back on bed-

Catastrophe.

The bed frame was lose and you found yourselves in the floor, the headboard banging loudly on the wall. Followed by your parent’s voices questioning what happened.

Jongdae buried his face on your belly.

“Get me out of here jagiya”

____________________

A/N: Why do I enjoy this so much? 

Thanks for reading, feedback always welcomed ^_~

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