#any number of people could respond because i know he's said this more than once lol

[lessluck]

raymond ellis // country singer // open to mutuals

"Well, I'm leaving town in the morning, but I've generally found the best way to get to know somebody is when you might never see them again."

[sutorus]

OFF TO THE RACES

DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.

PAIRING: toji x reader

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 

A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!

“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 

a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 

he had told you to dress up today. 

how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 

if only you had known.

you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.

you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 

it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 

the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 

but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 

that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 

toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 

“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”

you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 

the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 

he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 

you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 

you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 

but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?

the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 

it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 

the heat inside you spreads further. 

“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”

it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 

“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 

your shut your eyes tightly. 

you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 

you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 

you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.

they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 

a one in eight change. 

god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 

you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  

“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 

it’s useless, of course.

toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 

he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 

but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 

your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 

you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 

your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.

he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 

toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 

your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 

stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 

toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 

he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.

no remorse at all. 

it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 

you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 

your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 

you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 

someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 

an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.

surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—

before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 

but his fingers don’t leave you. 

no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 

and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.

if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 

you wish you could cry right now.

instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.

those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 

you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 

“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”

you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 

“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 

his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 

“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 

it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 

when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 

you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.

dangerously close to first place. 

it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 

you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 

if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.

when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 

you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 

there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 

“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”

the man points his thumb over his shoulder.

the race is over.

horse number four came in at fourth place. 

how fitting. 

his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.

but still. are they really going to—

“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 

toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 

“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”

that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 

toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?

you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 

there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 

the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.

he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 

toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 

when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 

“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”

toji smirks.

you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 

you swallow down the last of your sobs.

“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[yuurei20]

Hello!

Bit of a dumb question

I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong

Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!

The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.

Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)

This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”

Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.

Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 

The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.

The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.

(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)

But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.

While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.

Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 

Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”

The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.

This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.

So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?

(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)

Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.

Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).

Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.

The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.

And his official, disliked food? Eel.

To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.

But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬

[celiastjamesoscar]

Umbrella Paradox pt 2

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you get a call while you’re at work about an attack on civilians, only to found out the one hurt is none other than Sam.

Warnings: described sutures, light cussing, suggestive themes, Tara being a menace

Read part one here

Word count: 7.4k

It was a peaceful night at the station that Y/N had hoped for. She desperately needed to get caught up on paperwork; tonight was the perfect time. The big hand on the clock slowly made its way towards the 11. As Y/N recalled all the events during a car crash last week for her report, her mind slowly drifted back to her Sam. It had been a dreadful week since she last tasted Sam’s lips, and she longed for them. She missed basking in her presence and that beautiful smile that rarely happened.

Of course, Y/N had tried to reach out to Sam, stalking the coffee shop like a weirdo, but she got no results. She’d go in once in the morning and once more at night, hoping to see the pulchritudinous woman. She’d spend roughly thirty minutes in her corner booth before grudgingly leaving the cafe. One time, however, she got called out on it.

It was late at night, close to twelve in the morning, when someone sat in Y/N’s booth across from her. Y/N looked up from her soup and stared at the person. She knew she had seen them before but couldn't recall when. She was getting ready to ask the person who they were before they spoke up for her, “Looking for Sam?” They asked with a smirk and narrow eyes as they intertwined their fingers.

Y/N’s eyes darted around the cafe, seeing it was empty except for a young author writing his screenplay. She turned to face them before speaking, “I have no idea what you’re talking about-” she glanced down at their nametag-“Mark.”

They let out a small chuckle as they stared Y/N down, “Yes, you do. You’re the one who walked Sam about a week ago. I’d assume you’re why she keeps picking up extra shifts.”

Y/N looked back up at Mark when they mentioned her walking Sam home. She instantly remembered Mark as the coworker who hid in the kitchen when she met Sam. She started to bounce her leg, not knowing how to respond to them. “Why are you asking me if I’m here for Sam then?”

“Because I think it’s cute,” they said with a genuine smile, the first one of the evening. They unlaced their fingers and leaned back against the booth, “Sam’s only worked here a few months, but the way she smiled at you. Man, I’m jealous.”

Y/N smiled when Mark mentioned how Sam smiled at her, glad she wasn’t imagining things. “So, can you tell me when she works again? I would like to see her again soon,” Y/N asked with a hopeful smile as she leaned her arms on the table.

Mark let out an evil chuckle as they stood up from the booth, “oh, no, sweetheart. If I told you her schedule, that would take all of the fun out for me,” they said as they disappeared back into the kitchen. After that, Y/N looked around uncomfortably before slowly leaving the booth and the cafe.

Sam also tried her best to work more, picking up any free shift she could just in the hopes of seeing her EMT. Her head would perk up every time the bell above the door rang, but she would hang her head in disappointment when she saw it wasn’t Y/N. She started to kick herself for not giving Y/N her number, but she also liked this game of hunting and searching for each other. Somehow though, they always managed to miss each other just by ten minutes, which was quite pitiful.

As Y/N wrote down the crash details, her partner approached her desk and kicked the side, startling her. “We got a call from Abe’s Snake Bodega. A group of kids attacked some people, leaving a couple of them bloodied up and bruised. Grab your gear; we leave in three,” Winston said before he walked off again. Y/N let out a small groan; her shift ended in thirty minutes, and she could not wait to go home and sleep, but of course, someone just had to get into a fight.

Winston was Y/N’s best friend and roommate. They grew up together and were practically inseparable. He was a little shorter than Y/N, standing at about 5’7, and had short blonde curly hair with piercing blue eyes that freaked Y/N out. There have been several occasions where Y/N threatened to buy him brown contacts, as he sometimes resembled that one picture of Miley Cyrus, and Y/N sometimes hung it up on his bedroom door.

Once Y/N finished writing her sentence, she stood up, stretched, and grabbed her bag before going to the ambulance. “Nuh uh, get out now,” Y/N said as she walked towards the front of the vehicle and saw Winston on the driver’s side.

“It’s my turn to drive it, Y/N,” he exclaimed as he crossed his arms, throwing his version of a tantrum. “You drove last time.”

Not wanting to fight, Y/N scoffed as she walked to the passenger side, ignoring the happy dance Winston did in his seat. “So, if a fight broke out, why are we going? Can’t they just go home and clean themselves up?” Y/N asked once she sat down and put on her seat.

Winston started the vehicle and pulled out of the station before responding, “Yeah, I slightly lied about that,” Y/N sent him a death glare as she placed her medical bag on the floor between her legs, “one of the kids pulled out a knife, attacked someone with it before the cops intervened.”

“This person better be so close to death that they already have a toe tag on them,” Y/N said as she leaned back into her seat with a sigh, causing Winston to laugh at her actions.

When they arrived at the scene, they both let out a groan. They would have to storm through a giant group to find just one injured person. “Alright, the scene looks safe, and only one person is reported injured. I’ll ask the cops where the person is; you check on the crowd. Is that alright with you?” Y/N asked as she exited the ambulance with her bag, already donning her white gloves.

Winston nodded as he followed behind Y/N while also putting on his gloves with his medical bag slung over his shoulder, “sounds good, captain.”

The pair push their way through the crowd before finally seeing what happened. There’s a woman in the back of the police car, screaming her head off about being mistreated and being placed falsely under arrest. From What Y/N can tell, the woman’s friends are arguing with two police officers, saying that their friend didn’t do anything wrong and was defending herself. They all looked familiar as she studied the group, even the lady screaming like a banshee. Y/N just couldn’t place a finger on where she had seen them before but just shrugged it off as a weird coincidence.

Another cop was standing next to a smaller group of people. One was sitting on the ground with their back turned to Y/N with a smaller person leaning on their shoulder. A more prominent built man talked with his hands, explaining the whole story to the officer. From what Y/N could tell, the man's sister would occasionally butt in, correcting his story as it seemed he liked exaggerating details.

As she approached the group, the cop looked up from his notebook and pointed toward the two people sitting on the sidewalk's curb. Y/N nodded her head as she walked towards them. “Hello, my name is Y/N, and I’ll be examining your wounds.” She trailed off when she saw who was sitting on the ground.

Sam looked at her with a weak smile as her right hand pressed against her upper left arm. Her hair was slightly wet, and some stuck to her face and neck. She was wearing a white bare-shouldered sweater, and if this were a different circumstance, Y/N would have complemented it; she still might. Y/N noticed the blood that had started to seep into the white cotton, and a frown overtook her face as her blood began to boil. She glanced over her left shoulder to look at the woman in the squad car; she had to psychically hold herself back from walking over there.

She quickly turned her attention back to Sam, “I can clean it here or back at the ambulance,” she spoke with that soft tone Sam remembered, along with her gentle eyes that never strayed too far from Sam’s.

Sam looked down at the more petite girl still on her shoulder, “Let’s just stay here; I need to keep an eye on everyone.”

Y/N nodded at Sam’s words as she looked for somewhere more comfortable to sit. Her eyes instantly landed on a rectangular metal picnic table underneath a tree. Sam followed Y/N’s eyes before standing up and walking with Y/N. The smaller girl followed closely behind.

Sam sat at the end of the table on the right as Y/N sat to the left of Sam, her legs straddling the bench. The smaller girl sat across from the two, her narrow eyes constantly stalking Y/N’s every move as if Y/N was going to hurt Sam rather than patch her up. Y/N placed her bag on the table, opened it, and pulled out the suture kit and scissors.

Sam watched Y/N with tender eyes. She was scared that Y/N had to see her like this, covered in her own blood with a nasty cut on her arm that won’t stop bleeding even though she’s been covering it with napkins. “Can you move your hand for me?” Y/N asked, quickly pulling Sam back to reality. She had a pair of scissors in her hand, and Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I have to cut your shirt to see the full damage.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam replied as she pulled her hand away, along with the bloody napkins. Sam looked back at Y/N to find the woman already looking at Sam with those loving eyes she missed so much. If her baby sister weren’t sitting across from her, Sam would have kissed Y/N.

Y/N placed one hand on Sam’s arm while her other held the scissors, cutting away the fabric. Once she had cut out a square in the clothing, she placed the scissors down along with the cutout clothing. The cut was six inches across Sam’s arm and would need stitches. Y/N sighed as she grabbed hydrogen peroxide and poured some onto a small bandage. “This is going to sting. I'm sorry,” Y/N whispered as she pressed the cloth against Sam’s arm with her right hand.

Sam let out a slight hiss and tightly shut her eyes but relaxed once she felt Y/N’s left thumb rub her arm. Once Y/N deemed the wound clean, she removed her hand and the bandage and placed it on the table. She popped open the suture kit and got the needle and thread ready. “The cut isn’t deep, but it will need stitches,” Y/N explained as she moved the needle toward the center of the cut, “this will hurt,” Y/N said as she pierced through Sam’s skin and pushed the needle through, causing a groan to escape Sam’s lips.

Sam went to grab the bench so she had something to squeeze onto, but her left hand accidentally landed on Y/N’s mid-thigh. Y/N’s eyes quickly snapped to Sam’s hand, and Sam expected Y/N to tell her to remove her hand, but Y/N just gave her that gentle smile reserved for Sam, silently telling her it was okay.

Sam visibly relaxed once she saw Y/N give her the okay, and she gently traced small circles onto Y/N’s thigh with her thumb. Y/N smiled at the woman’s actions as she continued the suture. “I have to ask you some questions. Is that alright with you?” Y/N asked while looking at Sam; her hands stopped momentarily.

“Yes, of course. Go ahead,” Sam responded too quickly, causing Y/N to smirk and Tara’s eyes to dart back and forth between the two women. She started to pick up on some tension between the two when they first sat down, but now, judging from Sam’s quick response and Y/N’s smirk, this wasn’t their first meeting.

“Do you know what today’s date is?” Y/N asked with a more serious tone.

“July 7th, 2023,” Sam replied through gritted teeth while squeezing Y/N’s thigh. Y/N almost had to bite back a moan at the pressure.

“Okay, can you tell me your full name and date of birth?”

Sam scoffed at the question and looked at Y/N; the poor girl had a determined look on her face as a bit of her tongue stuck out, clearly trying her best not to hurt Sam while giving her good stitches. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask for my report; I need to determine your level of consciousness,” Y/N defended when she felt Sam’s glare.

“Samantha Carpenter, May 19th, 1997,” Sam replied worriedly. She figured she was older than Y/N, but now that Y/N knew Sam was older, she hoped the age gap didn’t ruin anything between them. As if reading Sam’s thoughts, Y/N spoke teasingly, “Happy birthday then, Samantha.”

Sam rolled her eyes and scoffed at Y/N’s words, “Almost two months late,” but she squeezed Y/N’s thigh to signal she was joking.

“Better late than never,” Y/N replied with a cheeky grin as her eyes never left Sam’s arm.

Y/N finished stitching up the right side of the cut and quickly tied it in a knot. “Okay, I just finished the right side; now I will suture the left side,” Y/N said as she looked into Sam’s beautiful brown eyes.

She desperately wanted to kiss Sam. No, she needed to kiss Sam. She felt as though she might die if she didn’t feel Sam’s lips against her own soon: like they were her lifeline. She needed to feel those soft lips against her own but was pulled from her daydream when someone cleared their throat, “So, are you two a thing?” Tara asked with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.

“No.” Y/N and Sam stated simultaneously, looking at each other with wide eyes as Tara replied with an ‘uh huh.’ Too ashamed to respond, Y/N returned to stitching up Sam’s arm.

“Well, Chad explained the story to the cops, but I had to give them real details,” the woman from earlier said as she walked over to the group. She quickly raked her eyes up and down Y/N and put her arms behind her back before speaking with a flirtatious tone, “Well, hello.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered over to the woman; she was maybe around Sam’s height, but it was hard to tell. She had long, curly black hair and pretty brown eyes. “May I help you?” Y/N questioned as she focused her attention back on Sam’s arm.

“Once you're done with Sam, I need to be examined as well. I think I might need a back brace,” the woman said as she pretended to pop her back, then stuck her hand out towards Y/N, “Im Mindy, by the way.”

Y/N looked back at Mindy and moved her hand that wasn’t holding the needle, showing the woman that her hands were quite busy with Sam, as they had her blood on them. “I'm Y/N, but I think you’ll live. If you need immediate medical attention, my partner is over there,” Y/N motioned with her head over to where Winston was standing; he was examining one of the girls who had gotten punched by someone. But by telling How Tara kept rubbing her right hand, Y/N guessed that she found the assailant.

Mindy let out a small groan as she leaned back dramatically, “Come on, dude! I’m trying to flirt with you! You know, hitting on you.”

“I know. I appreciate your affection, but I already have a lover,” Y/N said gently as she looked at Mindy and Sam before returning her eyes to her sutures. Sam’s mind went blank When Y/N said she had a lover. She wasn’t sure if it was Sam or someone else, but her heart swelled at the thought. Sam gently squeezed Y/N’s thigh, hoping to ground herself as she thought about being in a relationship with the woman.

“A ‘lover,’ you are so formal you’d definitely drive me insane,” Mindy grumbled as she sat beside Tara, watching Y/N’s skillful hands on Sam’s arm.

Sam cleared her throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table, “Tara, can you go pull the car up here? I’m ready to go home once this is done.”

Taking the hint, Tara stood up from the table, dragging Mindy, who complained about ‘having to leave the pretty woman behind.’ The two quickly grabbed Chad, who was still bragging about his act of heroism to bystanders.

“I thought they would never leave,” Y/N remarked once the group was out of earshot. Sam let out a slight hum and rubbed her hand across Y/N’s thigh, but that was shortly lived as Y/N scolded her, “Don’t move your arm too much, Sam! You’ll mess up the stitches.”

She rolled her eyes but looked over her shoulder to see her pretty EMT, “you know, I miss the Y/N who would joke with me and run in the rain with me.”

Looking up at her with narrowed eyes, Y/N scoffed as she spoke, “That Y/N was in a better mood because she wasn’t having to put 15 stitches in your arm.”

Sam didn’t respond, just nodded at the woman’s words. Feeling a little bit of shame for her words, Y/N quickly placed a kiss on Sam’s open shoulder before returning to her work. Sam felt her entire body heat up as she felt Y/N’s lips on her shoulder. She wanted more of Y/N, but now was not the time or place for such tomfoolery.

“You know, you don’t have to get hurt just to see me,” Y/N said with a cheeky grin as she tied the last suture. She then took out some gauze and wrapped it around Sam’s arm.

“I know, but apparently, that’s been the only way to reach you,” Sam replied as she stood up from the table while Y/N properly put the used needle in a sharps container and disposed of the bloody bandages.

Y/N stood up from the table and placed her bag over her shoulder as she spoke, “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” She asked with a playful smirk.

Remembering that Sam had told Y/N she knew where she worked when asked if Y/N could see her again, she mentally slapped herself. “Okay, I will admit that that might have been my fault,” Sam said with a smile as she looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes before quickly glancing down at the woman’s lips. “Would you like to come back to my place? As a way to thank you?” She asked hushedly, almost afraid someone other than Y/N might hear her.

Y/N smiled at Sam as the two began walking toward the car Tara pulled up. The pair both ignored how Tara somehow managed to bring the front right and back right tire onto the sidewalk. “I’d love to, but I have to clock out at the station and pick up my car,” Y/N said with a slight tone of disappointment before quickly speaking more enthusiastically, “but you could always send me your address, and I could drive there. But you know, that would require you to give me your phone number.”

Sam rolled her eyes at Y/N’s suggestion but pulled out her phone nonetheless. “Here, put in your phone number, and I’ll send you my address,” Sam said as she handed Y/N her phone. Her heart fluttered when she saw Y/N’s gigantic smile and the hearty eyes she sent Sam as she grabbed the phone.

Putting in her phone number, Y/N decided against putting a heart next to her name, figuring it would be too quick, and she didn’t want Sam to feel like she was pressuring her into anything. So, she simply put ‘☂️⚕️’ next to her name.

Sam smiled when she saw the emojis, especially the umbrella one, as her mind instantly went back to running in the rain with Y/N. When they reached the car, Sam gave Y/N a gentle kiss on the cheek, whispering in her ear with a playful smirk, “See you tonight.” Sam ignored the way Y/N’s face turned beet red while wearing the love-struck smile that only Sam got.

Y/N waved back at Sam as she walked away, smiling as she watched the older woman fight with her sister for the driver’s seat. Once she walked away, her phone dinged as she got a text message from an unsaved number, but she already knew it was Sam. It was an address followed by ‘Would you want to make dinner together when you get here?-Sam’. She smiled at the message before responding, ‘Of course!’.

After she sent the message, she walked over to Winston and slapped him on the back as she spoke, “All done here?”

“Yeah, I'm ready to go home and sleep,” Winston said through gritted teeth as the slap sting traveled through his back.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to go home and watch ‘Dirty Dancing’ while crying,” Y/N joked as the two began walking back towards the ambulance.

Winston quickly put his hand over his heart and sucked in a deep breath before exclaiming, “How dare you make such an outlandish accusation!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I'm talking about!” Y/N rebutted while gently pushing Winston, “I’ve seen you on the couch while violently sobbing to that movie!”

“I can assure you that was not me.”

“If you say so, Winston.”

After their playful argument, the two walked silently the rest of the way. Once they arrived at the ambulance, Winston climbed into the driver’s side while Y/N entered the passenger side. They joked back and forth as they drove to the station. Once they arrived, they both climbed out with their bags and clocked out.

“I’ll see you at home?” Winston asked as they both walked towards their cars.

“I don’t know; I’m going to a friend’s house. I’ll let you know, though,” Y/N responded as she opened her passenger-side door and pulled out a gym bag.

Winston stopped his movements, holding his car door open, “A ‘friend?’” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N turned to look at him, worried Winston might call her out on her bluff, “yeah, a friend.”

“Do I know this friend?” He asked back with a little bit of sass in his voice.

She let out a small sigh and reluctantly mumbled, “No, you do not know this friend.” She knew Winston would rip her apart for this, but she didn’t care.

But to her surprise, Winston just nodded before speaking in a southern accent, “Be careful? Ya hear? Too many people getting hurt these days!”

She let out a small chuckle at his words but knew that he meant well. “of course, Winston. I’ll text you when I get there,” she said as she saluted him.

Once Winston left in his car, Y/N walked into the shower room and turned one on. She’d hated arriving at Sam’s house smelling bad; she wanted to make a good impression on her, even though they’d already known each other for a week. This would be their first time hanging out with each other at a house, and she didn’t want to disappoint.

She opened her gym bag, placed her shampoo and conditioner on the shower floor, and then sat out her clothes and towel on the bench outside the shower. She quickly stepped into the shower, basking in the shower's warmth.

However, her mind was quickly filled up with thoughts about Sam. She was eager to spend the rest of the night with her, even if her sister and friends were over. She wanted to kiss her lips and call Sam hers, but she prayed it would be just them together.

——————————————————————————

When Sam saw Y/N wave at her, her heart doubled in size. She was going to wave back but was distracted when Tara bit her hand.

“Ouch! You little fucker,” Sam exclaimed as she drew her hand back.

“I am not giving up the driver’s seat!” Tara retorted while glaring at Sam. Sam looked in the back seat, hoping to get some support from the Meeks-Martin twins, but both gave Sam a look that said, ‘This woman is crazy; we aren’t arguing with her.’

Not wanting to argue with her sister, Sam sighed as she walked around the car and entered the passenger side. “Aww, I love you too, Sam,” Tara said once Sam got in and buckled up.

“Whatever, just make sure you don’t kill us,” Sam replied as Tara put the car in drive and drove off the sidewalk. Tara wanted to say something when all three passengers grabbed the ‘oh shit’ handle but decided against it.

Once she felt safe with Tara’s driving, Sam pulled out her phone and sent Y/N a text. She smiled when she got a reply within a minute. As she typed out another response, Tara turned down the wrong road, “Tara, you went the wrong way.” Sam stated as she looked around the car.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, but I’m going to Mindy’s house for a girls' night. Would you like to come with me?” Tara asked as she slammed on her brakes, almost running a red light.

Trying to recover from whiplash, Sam responded, “No, that’s okay. I think I might have someone over.”

Someone could hear a hairpin drop in the silence of the car. No one said anything, afraid Sam would say she was joking if they did. “You’re joking. Right?” Mindy questioned, breaking the silence.

Sam turned towards her left so she could look into the back of the car, “No, I’m not. Why are you surprised by that?”

Mindy looked at Chad for help, but he just glared out the window, not wanting to get in trouble with Sam. “Mindy, what do you mean?” Sam pressed on, clearly upset by the woman’s question.

“She’s just surprised that you are inviting people over; that’s all,” Tara said as she kept her eyes on the road. Sam turned back around and looked out of the windshield. She crossed her arms and had a slight frown on her face, clearly not enjoying this conversation.

“It’s not like that. She's just a friend,” Sam defended with an annoyed tone.

Tara was going to ask Sam what she meant by ‘she’s just a friend,” but Chad interrupted her, “I love that song.” He smirked and received a low five from Mindy and Tara, the rest of the group picking up the meaning as Sam scoffed and looked out the window.

When Tara arrived at Mindy’s place, everyone got out of the car, “Girl’s Night also includes you, Chad?” Sam questioned as she walked around to the driver’s side.

He just shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing else for me to do. Unless,” a smirk appeared instantly on his face, “you want me to come over to your place and hang out with you and your lo-“

“Absolutely not.” Sam cut him off as she opened the door, “Be safe, you three.”

The three smiled at Sam and waved as the woman drove off in her car.

“Come on, let’s get girl’s night started!” Chad said eagerly. He wasn’t much for doing the activities Tara and Mindy did, but he enjoyed being in their company and listening to their discussions. It also gave him a reason to drink, but he wouldn’t tell them that.

Sam drove back to her shared apartment in silence; she could only hear her fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Her mind was filled with excitement; she had the apartment to herself and would take advantage of that. It had been too long since she kissed Y/N, and she needed just that after tonight’s events.

It was a typical night with the core four at the Carpenter’s apartment, but Sam felt like taking the group somewhere. So, they all piled into Sam’s car and went to Dave & Buster's. They all had a fantastic time; Mindy destroyed Chad in air hockey while Tara walked around and blocked little kids who were just trying to enjoy Super Shot. Sam tried her best to keep Tara out of fights with eight-year-olds.

They enjoyed a nice dinner along with some laughs. The night was one of the best since the move from Woodsboro, and they all forgot about their tragic past for a few moments.

But everything must come to an end, and as they were walking out, they ran into the same group of girls that terrorized Sam a week ago. At first, they didn’t say anything to Sam; they just glared at her as she left the restaurant. They were all standing outside, as they had a thirty-minute wait, and they had nothing better to do, so they just glared. Sam didn’t notice them, but she felt the hair on her neck stand up and subconsciously pulled Tara into her side. Tara looked around as she felt Sam’s arm wrap around her, automatically putting her on alert. Tara’s eyes quickly landed on the group of girls, “over there, by the Target,” Tara whispered to Sam.

Sam’s eyes darted to the Target, and sure enough, a group of girls stared down at Sam. “Come on, you guys, let’s go home,” Sam said to her group while holding Tara close to her side. Mindy and Chad both shared a look before quickly following behind the Carpenters.

The girls quickly started to follow them, and one called out, “Watch out, you three! She’ll get you!” Another girl shouted, “Murderer!”

“Come on, let’s just make it back to the car,” Sam said as she quickened her pace but abruptly stopped when Tara stopped walking. Tara quickly pulled out of Sam’s arms and marched towards the girls, ignoring Sam’s pleas to stop.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Tara demanded as she pushed the girl who called Sam a murderer.

She scoffed at Tara, “I don’t have a problem, I’m just trying to keep you safe,” she spoke in a fake worried voice as she looked behind Tara at Sam. Sam quickly grabbed Tara’s arm and whispered out a ‘let’s go,’ but Tara shrugged her off.

Tara approached the girl, causing her to look up at her, “She is the furthest thing from a murderer, you incompetent asshole.”

The girl pushed Tara and went to yell at her, but her words quickly died in her throat when a fist collided with her face. “Stay away from us,” Tara said as she grabbed her hand, not expecting it to hurt as much as it did.

When they started to walk away, the girl who was hit pulled out a small pocket knife and charged at Tara, slashing at the more petite girl. Sam heard the footsteps and quickly pulled Tara out of the way, but not in enough time to save herself, as the knife cut Sam’s arm.

Realizing the dangerous situation, Chad quickly wrapped his arms around the girl with the knife, holding her back from the sisters. The girl kicked and screamed as Mindy took the knife from her hand. A few bystanders intervened as well and called the police and an ambulance.

It was not the ideal way to start the night, but now Sam had the opportunity to make up for the stressful evening, and she would do just that. As she stepped out of her car, she googled ‘romantic meals for two’ and made her way back to her apartment.

Once inside, she grabbed some clean clothes and entered her bedroom bathroom. She turned on the shower and placed her clothes on the sink as she got out some saran wrap and wrapped it around her bandaged arm. When she finished wrapping her arm, she checked the water temperature and undressed once she deemed it warm enough. She sent Y/N a quick text before stepping into the shower and washing off the blood stuck to her skin. She quickly washed the rest of her body and hair, then stepped out of the shower and dressed.

She brushed and dried her hair with a towel after getting dressed. Once done, Sam returned to the living room with her phone and turned on the tv as she prepared the ingredients for the meal, patiently waiting for her Y/N to arrive.

——————————————————————————

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts when her phone dinged with a text message. She wondered how much time she had spent in the shower as she turned it off and dried off. She dressed and put her dirty work clothes, towel back into her bag, and shampoo and conditioner. She then grabbed her phone and checked the text message.

Sammy 🌂❤️‍🩹: I just got home. You can come over whenever ;)

Y/N smiled at the message; she couldn’t control the blush that crept up her neck and how her heart fluttered at the winky smile.

Y/N ☂️⚕️: sounds good. I’ll be over in 10 ;)

She then grabbed her bag and made her way out to her car. She started her car and backed out onto the road as her phone connected to the speakers; the lovely voice of Hozier filled the air.

When she arrived at the apartment doors, she parked and sent Sam a message, telling her she was heading up. And as she promised, she also sent Winston a text telling him that she had made it. As she climbed up the stairs to Sam’s apartment, she let out a small laugh when she saw that Winston had responded with a picture of himself crying while Dirty Dancing could be seen on TV. She sent him back an ‘I told you’ then shut off her phone as she knocked on Sam’s door.

When the door opened, Y/N lost her breath. Sam stood before her with a baggy Mötley Crüe shirt and low-cut shorts. It wasn’t a remarkable outfit, but she still looked breathtaking. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and Y/N’s mind instantly became rated R.

Sam smiled at Y/N, then grabbed Y/N’s right hand with her left and grabbed her neck with her right. Y/N didn’t even have enough time to say ‘hello’ before Sam pulled her into her body and connected their lips. Time seemed to freeze for the two; their lips seemed to be the only things moving. The kiss was gentle and tender, filled with all the emotions they held for each other. Y/N sighed into the kiss and placed Sam’s right hand on her waist before moving her hands to cup Sam’s cheeks, deepening the kiss.

Sam felt her heart soar when Y/N cupped her face. She was ready to take things to another level, but not right here in the doorway. She placed one final kiss on Y/N’s lips before pulling back. “Hi,” Sam husked out with swollen lips and blown irises.

“Hi,” Y/N replied as she swiped her thumb across Sam’s bottom lip; her eyes never seemed to leave them. Sam felt her knees weaken at Y/N’s action but pulled Y/N into the house by her hand. “Come on, let’s get started on dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N said as she followed her like a lost puppy. She followed Sam into the kitchen, where several different ingredients were laid out before them: butter, lemon zest, lemon juice, cloves of garlic, salt, and pepper, some salmon fillets, six russet potatoes, M5 spice rub, and a little bit of chopped parsley.

“You seriously weren’t lying about this dinner thing,” Y/N stated as she looked around the kitchen.

Panic immediately settled in Sam’s bones, afraid she might have overdone it, terrified that she was trying too hard and she might push Y/N away. “Yeah, I’m sorry if it’s a bit much. We can order pizza if you like or do something completely different. We don’t even need to have dinner, just a nice night,” Sam rambled on as Y/N approached her and grabbed her hands, intertwining their fingers.

“I love it, Sam. Thank you for this. I haven’t had a homecooked meal in a long time, and I would love to enjoy dinner with you,” Y/N said in that gentle, loving tone that Sam loved to hear. It was as if angels were talking for Y/N.

Sam nodded, worried that her voice might break if she spoke. No one had ever been this gentle with her, and she loved it and hated it at the same time. She loved having someone who treated her like an actual person, but she was terrified that Y/N would hurt her in the end. But all her thoughts disappeared when she saw Y/N smile at her, that smile reserved just for Sam.

Y/N let go of Sam’s head and kissed her cheek before walking back to the table, “Alright, Sam, how do we do this?” She questioned while gesturing to the ingredients. Sam pulled up her phone and read over the directions. “Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Once they started the meal together, they enjoyed being in each other presence. When Sam was seasoning the salmon with salt, pepper, and butter, Y/N walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around Sam, giving her a back hug as she occasionally kissed her neck. When Y/N was slicing a potato crosswise, Sam did the same thing Y/N did, except she just rested her head on Y/N’s back–she couldn’t reach Y/N’s neck because of the height difference–and would place gentle kisses on her shoulder blades.

While Sam worked on the salmon, Y/N sliced the potatoes. They cooked in comfortable silence like they had been doing this for years. And their meal was complete within the hour: butter-baked salmon with Hasselback potatoes. Y/N made each of them a place as Sam grabbed a bottle of wine and poured each a glass.

They sat at the kitchen table opposite each other. They ate and drank together while talking about their day and what happened since they last saw each other. Once they had finished their meal, they cleaned up their mess.

While they were washing the plates side by side, Sam couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore, “Earlier, when you were stitching up my arm, you said you had a lover. What was that about?”

When the question had left Sam’s lips, Y/N automatically tensed up. Her heartbeat picked up, and her palms began to sweat. What if it had made Sam she said that? What if Sam only viewed her as her ‘long-term, long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend? When she said that Sam was her lover, it flew off of her tongue, like her one purpose in life was to be Sam’s lover, in sickness and health, in life and death.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable; I shouldn’t have assumed anything between us, and it was wrong of me to try and force you into that. I just spoke without thinking, and I’m so sorry if I ruined anything betw-” Sam’s lips quickly cut her off. The kiss was short and sweet, but it carried all the words for Sam which she could not form into sentences yet.

She pulled back from Y/N as she spoke, “I didn’t mind it, Y/N. In fact, I loved it, and I would like to be your girlfriend if you’ll have me.”

Y/N smiled down at Sam before gently kissing Sam’s lips as she rested her forehead against Sam’s, “I want you to be my girlfriend, Sam. More than anything I have ever wanted.”

Sam smiled at Y/N’s words and pulled back from her. She walked over to the fridge and pulled out a six-pack of Seagrams. “Well, let’s enjoy our first movie night as a couple,” Sam said as she walked into the living room, Y/N quick on her heels.

The two decided to watch La La Land as Sam sat with her legs in Y/N’s lap while Y/N rubbed her hand up and down Sam’s thigh. “No, Sam. Trust me, this movie will destroy you. You will never be the same,” Y/N stated while the first scene played out.

Sam rolled her eyes at her now-girlfriend’s words, “I highly doubt that,” as she finished her beer and grabbed another one off the coffee table. The couple were both more than tipsy but not yet drunk. Y/N already had flushed cheeks, but her skin got even warmer when Sam’s shirt lifted up as she grabbed herself a beverage. Y/N saw her defined abs and wanted to rip off Sam’s shirt more than anything.

When Sam sat back on the couch, Y/N’s lips were on hers instantly. The kisses were sloppy and needy as Y/N ran her hands underneath Sam’s shirt, pulling a moan from the woman. Their lips were capturing each other, and nothing seemed to keep them away. Sam’s lips slowly left Y/N’s as they traveled down her jawline and onto her neck. Soft moans escaped Y/N’s lips as Sam placed hungry kisses on her neck before gently sucking on a weak spot, pulling a louder moan from the woman.

When Sam finally had enough, she quickly pulled back and practically ripped Y/N’s shirt off her, throwing it across the room. She then pushed Y/N down onto the couch and continued placing kisses on Y/N’s neck before finally kissing her lips again.

Unbeknownst to them, the door shot open as Tara quickly walked into the room, “Hey, Sam! I’m here to pick up some-what the fuck?!” She stopped in her tracks as she saw Sam on top of someone.

The two quickly pulled apart as they heard Tara’s voice. Their eyes were full of lust, and their lips were swollen. Mindy stormed into the room when she heard Tara yell but was just as confused. “Aren’t you that EMT from earlier?” Mindy questioned with her arms crossed, a little upset she wasn’t in Sam’s current position.

Sam quickly threw a blanket on Y/N that was on the back of the couch, trying her best to cover up the girl. She turned around on the couch to face the two women. She was getting ready to speak but had no way to explain this. Y/n leaned up on the sofa and instantly felt shame and embarrassment.

Tara cleared her throat before speaking in a playful tone, “Well, you two certainly look busy. I’ll just borrow some of Mindy’s clothes.” She walked back towards the door but quickly turned around and pulled Mindy with her. At the door, Tara turned around and said with a wink, “Not a bad catch, Sam. She’s hot.”

“Have fun, gay people!” Mindy exclaimed as Tara dragged her out of the door.

Once the door was shut, Sam looked around the apartment, afraid that someone else might have snuck in without her knowing, and was waiting for the perfect time to embarrass her. She was only pulled back into reality when Y/N said, “I can leave if you want me to, Sam.”

Sam laughed at Y/N’s words, “Do you want to leave?” She questioned with a playful smirk on her swollen lips.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then stay here,” Sam said as she pulled Y/N back into a kiss. The only things that could be heard in the apartment were the kissing of lips and the soft playing of ‘Mia & Sebastian’s theme.’

AN: you guys should definitely watch ‘La La Land’ with Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone if you need a good movie to cry to.

Idea came from here

Taglist: @karsonromanoff

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: “You don’t know me!” - 7x5

In 2x8, Buck told a woman, “You don’t even know me!” and according to the script for episode 5 in season 7, the title of it will be almost an exact match since it's "You don’t know me!” and it appears to be a callback to his comment.

Since it's possible some may not have watched 2x8 Buck Actually in a while, here’s a quick reminder of the conversation Buck had with Bobby.  They were discussing TK and how Buck hooked up with her in a bar restroom but Buck told him that since he had finally let go of AC, he thought she had changed him 🙄. Then he proceeded to say he had only been single for like a day and he was back to basically being Buck 1.0. When they entered the gas station, Buck kept talking to Bobby about how he was thinking about calling TK but he didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing.  While Hen was treating the woman robber victim, she overheard Buck talking and commented, “You are only after one thing.  Jerk!”.  Buck responded, “You don’t even know me!” and she replied, “You’re a man, I know enough!”

Why is this important?

It’s important because the theme of “You don’t know me” has been applied to Buck with regards to every hookup or so-called “relationship” he’s had with different women on the show.  Let’s be real for a minute because the truth is none of them AC, AM, TK, ND, Dr. Wells nor the two women he hooked up with in season 1 knew him either.  Also, the woman who made the comment was a random victim who overheard Buck talking for less than a minute and she thought she knew Buck just because he’s a man. It was implied that all men want to do is hookup and leave like he did with TK but Buck has been and continues to search for the love of his life. The conversation he had with her connects to the one he had with Eddie in 6x15 while they were standing in the cemetery.

Buck said, “I feel like I have to try and be the same old Buck… mostly for the sake of everyone else” and Eddie responded, “You don’t have to be anything for anybody”.

IMO, their comments were being made directly to the audience and they were for the people who, after six seasons still want to keep seeing Buck do the same thing over and over again (I know it’s hard to believe but trust and believe there are people in the GA and in the 9-1-1 fandom who want to keep Buck on the hamster wheel and I think it’s because they DON’T WANT HIM TO BE WITH EDDIE).  These are the viewers who would rather he keep randomly hooking up with people (it could be anybody and it doesn’t matter if it’s irrational, nonsensical, illogical, random or whatever/whomever just as long as they can see him hookup with another guy or another random love interest) instead of him finally accepting the love that him and Eddie effortlessly share with one another.  I’ve said this many times, Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, they’re soulmates (post linked here) and they share a once in a lifetime love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.  They have a deep, emotional and intimate connection that’s not superficial and it’s not based on a hookup.  They have an EPIC love story that deserves to be told without any more distractions or the addition of one-dimensional love interests.  It’s not platonic, it’s romantic and if they do go CANON, it will make for groundbreaking television.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

After the title for 7x5 was released a few weeks ago, I completed a post about how Connor really doesn’t know Buck the way he said he does in 6x4 (linked here) and I stand by everything I included in it.  However, this post is in addition to that one and it includes the details about how all the women Buck dated didn’t know him either.

In 1x1, the first woman Buck was shown hooking up with in the firetruck told him to his face that she didn’t want to get to know him.  He asked her for her number and she replied, “You’re cute and you’re very good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other.” She didn't want to get to know him and the look on his face showed he wanted more but she didn't so he moved on to the next one.

Dr. Wells was the LAFD’s trauma therapist and SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND Buck on Facebook before he ever entered her office.  She knew the day would come when he would need therapy and when he asked her if she sent him a friend request, she told him he should delete it but then they ended up having sex.  It was played off like a joke but that’s not what it was because she was in a position of power and as a licensed therapist, she should have been charged because it’s against the law for that to happen. IMO, since Buck didn't know any better, as his captain, Bobby should have reported her. She wasn't mentioned again until 3x9 when Buck, Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were sitting in the loft at the firehouse and all Bobby said was "She's no longer with the department". That wasn't enough and she took advantage of him. Trust and believe the situation would have ended differently if the roles had been reversed.

AC wasn’t any different because after Buck stood by her and helped her after her mom died, he was being catfished by a man and several women were after him because of that guy's lies. After a woman threw a drink in his face, he said to her, “You know me right? Come on” and she replied, “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely don’t feel like I know who you are right now.” She ended up ghosting him and abandoning him while he waited for her for months.

When she returned two years later, she didn't even apologize to him.

AM didn’t know Buck either and don’t get sidetracked by the fact that she called him Evan sometimes.  It was proven she didn’t know who he is when she said, “I know it’s who you are” after he said, “You want me to quit my job”.  Well, being a firefighter is NOT who Buck is, it’s what he does but she clearly saw him as a hot firefighter just like AC did and was looking for a good time. Please remember she didn't have a problem leaving him because of it.

TK didn’t know Buck at all and for everyone who thinks just because they were having sex and living together, that doesn’t mean anything because after meeting four years earlier, TK still had no idea who Buck was before it was over and she didn’t care.  If she had known him then she wouldn’t have betrayed his trust.  Also, he did cheat on her which made the situation worse but neither of them wanted to admit they weren’t supposed to be together and they clung instead of just ending it.  When he got ready to break up with her, she didn't try to see his side of it, she just stuck to her immoral ideals and wanted him to be ok with her running with the Jonah story.  Instead of saying, “I understand and I apologize” she said, “You knew who I was when we started dating” and he replied, “I guess I thought I could learn to live with it”.  She made it all about her the same way Buck makes everything about himself. They were two self-centered people with tragic childhoods in a trainwreck relationship and it shouldn’t have ever happened. It's still interesting that Buck ended up in a relationship with her after everything she did to Bobby and the 118 four years earlier (related post linked here and here).

ND fangirled over Buck and was so enthralled by his death but when she found out he had a full life, she did judge him.  He said, “I know this is something that’s easy to judge” but even though she said that him being a sperm donor was a kind gesture or whatever, she left because she couldn't handle his full life. Granted she was a death doula but her actions weren't professional and it would have been better if she would have helped him deal with his death. Her return should have ended with Buck saying "No thanks" and sending her on her way but of course he was shoved into another lackluster one dimensional relationship. Also, them telling each other, “I like you” was very high school like🙄.

Please understand, I don't like TK but in 4x8 she said, "You just can't stand the idea of someone not liking you" and she was right. Buck works hard to make people like him and it's very reminiscent of the way he's been trying to get his parents to love him anyway. He needs therapy.

It seems like he's still doing it and the words Bobby spoke in 6x11 during his coma dream had no effect since he still cares about how people see him. He hasn't learned anything yet but hopefully he will in season 7.

Eddie Diaz is the ONLY person on the show who KNOWS and SEES Buck and the video above includes several snippets from different episodes to prove it.

Eddie knows him at his core. He knows when to call him on his BS, he recognizes when Buck makes things about himself and he knows when he's trying to fix things instead of understanding it's not always his job to fix them.

Maddie is Buck's sister but she still sees Evan (post linked here) her little brother but Eddie knows Buck and after they become a CANON couple, he’ll know Buck even more. 

While I’m not sure who’s going to say, “You don’t know me” in 7x5 or if it will be said at all, I do believe Buck might say it again and if he does, it will be a callback to 2x8. Also, 6x15 could be included in it since Buck might not be trying to be the "same old Buck" anymore and hopefully it will be enough for the naysayers to understand he's not the same person. IMO, I still think it’s something he will say to Connor especially since the sperm donor arc is supposed to return and OS said in an interview it won’t be revisited before the first 5 episodes.  Hopefully, Buck will finally realize the people he thought knew him really don’t including Connor.

Is it possible Eddie could say it to M, maybe but I don’t know because IMO that doesn’t sound like something he would say to anyone.  But he is all therapized now and he’s supposed to be joking or whatever this season so who knows.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Buck said, “You don’t even know me” in 2x8 and apparently, it’s going to be a callback in 7x5 but the question is, if he does say it, who’s he going to say it to? 👀 

[babyflorencee]

You're stuck with me

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

"I just don't understand why you're so upset over this," I said, with a confused expression.

"Y/n, how can you be so stupid? That guy was hitting on you harder than a hammer to a nail, and he was so damn obvious about it!" Regulus yelled, roughly running his hand through his Brown locks.

This had been going on for around 2 hours. All the yelling, screaming, and insults that were being spat at each other, just to prove a point, that neither of us was able to get across.

Why was Regulus so mad, you might ask? Well, he's mad because some guy at a diner asked for my phone number, and was just overall hitting on me the whole night, even though he was well aware that I was with Reggie. However, if it wasn't for Regulus' trust issues and lack of self-control, maybe we wouldn't have left the guy limp on the floor with a bullet between his eyes. "What? Am I not good enough for you so you have to go out and seek attention from other people!" he yelled, face red with anger.

Regulus has always been insecure about our relationship. He thought I deserved better, so when he said that, my heart immediately broke. However, I was still mad at him.

"Trust me babe, you're more than enough! But that's not what the problem is!" I yelled back, getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Then please, enlighten me with what the problem is!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air like a madman.

"You want to know what the problem is? You're way too clingy, and you're jealous ALL the damn time. Like I get, I'm yours and only yours! Reg, we are literally engaged. I'm not going anywhere, so why the fuck can't you get that through that thick head of yours?" I yelled back, not thinking about what I was saying. However, what I said hurt him, and he wasn't about to let that comment slide.

"Jealous? Well, excuse me for not being content with the idea of another man's hands all over that body of yours. You know, the body that's mine, and only mine to see and touch!" The whole fight was pointless; we both knew this, but neither of us wanted to back down.

Regulus and I have been in a relationship for a little over 3 years. We very clearly loved each other with all our hearts. We have only fought four times in our entire relationship, but this fight was different, but in the worst way possible. The intrusive thought of Reggie and me breaking up started to seem less crazy.

"Listen, I don't like sharing. I never have, and I absolutely refuse to share you. I don't want to fight about this anymore. It's silly. Can we just agree to disagree that the whole thing is that guy's fault?" He said, as he opened his arms out for me, with a hopeful expression.

I didn't respond. I just walked over towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Regulus immediately starts burying his head into my neck, holding onto me as if I was going to disappear any minute. Once we pulled away, he refused to look at me, instead; he looked at the floor. "Can we cuddle?" He asked, his voice so quiet I could barely make out what he said.

"Of course," I took his hand in mine, smiling up at him.

Once we got to mine and Regulus' bedroom, I was immediately pulled on the bed, being crushed by Regulus' weight. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I knew something was on his mind. "Hey Reg, what's wrong?" I asked, already having an idea of what he was going to say.

He sighed, rolling off of me so that he was on his side of the bed. "I hate fighting with you," he said, his voice breaking.

I pulled him into a tight hug, wishing that the fight had never happened. "I was scared, for a minute there, that we were going to break up," he mumbled, into my shoulder.

"Never in a million years," I whispered into his ear, entangling my hand into his hair.

"You're stuck with me," I said, laughing a little.

We lay back down, grasping onto each other as if our lives depended on it. "I'm glad that's over," Reg said, placing a kiss on my cheek, yawning.

"Night love," I said, rubbing his lower back until I eventually fell asleep.

[semicolonsspace]

Consider Fake! Dating me, Stiles

There's a list going around at the school beacon hills. The hottest girls from every last girl that attended. No one got left out. And Y/n was number one.

TW: Dom! Stiles, Sub! Reader, Teasing, Voyeurism, Dacryphilia/ whimpers(sorrynotsorry), road head, blowjob, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, p n v, cum-eating?(is that cum play idk) praise kink, degradation kink, a lot of dirty talk, mention of round 2/Shower sex.

When Stiles found this out, he was pissed. He has had a crush on her for the longest time. And now that he had competition? You better bet your shit he was trying to flirt with her more. Y/n knew about the list, and she knew about him liking her from the rumors that she heard. She didn't know if it was true though, so she didn't act upon them. She didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Y/n was a siren so it only made sense for everyone to be attracted to her. But the only one she truly wanted was Stiles. Just like he had wanted her for years... Even before he found out she was a siren...

Y/n walks through the halls, getting stares as she walks. She smiles and flips the people off. She didn't care about no damn list. She came to school for education, not to be the prettiest. Okay, maybe a little to be pretty... But not the stares- She dressed how she wanted and talked how she wanted. I guess the boys found that attractive...

Fortunately, some weren't guys. She felt flattered that the girls liked her more than the boys. She was happy that the girls liked her. Sometimes even giving them attention to make them blush. She would blow the known lesbians' kisses to fool around. They knew she was joking around but she in a way wasn't. Y/n didn't have a label on her sexuality...

She finds Stiles and Scott at their locker, poking their sides to get them riled up. They both hated it when she did this, but she's done this since she could remember.

"Quit it, Y/n/n," Stiles yelps, almost comically falling and dropping his bag. Scott laughs at his friend, his famous smile now on his face.

Y/n picks up Stiles' bag and hoists him back to his feet. "Ahh, I love it when you fall for me, it makes me feel so good," Y/n jokingly says in a rich voice. Stiles looked away to cover his blush but she saw. She pinches his cheek and ruffles his hair.

Scott sighs at his friends. "Come on love birds, Lacrosse practice starts in 20."

Y/n rolls her eyes playfully and links her arms with her two childhood best friends. As she walks with them, Stiles interlocks his fingers with hers. She lets him, not thinking anything of it. A few boys eyed him, stuffing out their chests to make them look bigger than they actually were. Y/n winks at them before kissing Stiles' arm. He stiffens and she giggles, All while this happens Scott is smirking at the two. He had noticed for a while that she liked getting the boys riled up; He also knew that she didn't really care about her reputation, being mean to any person who even tried to come in contact with her. Especially Greenburg.

Once they get to the locker room, she pulls Stiles back so she can talk to him. "I have a plan," Y/n starts. He nods, his mouth parting to speak. She cuts him off with he finger pressed against his lips. "I'm tired of the people- I'm tired of them trying to ask me out. Please consider fake dating me- because you're the only person I trust-" Stiles cuts her off with a hug and a kiss on her forehead. He whispers into her ear. "Greenburg 6 o' clock," he whispers so only she would hear. His breath makes her shudder, a chill traveling to her knees causing them to go weak.

"I guess that's a yes," Y/n laughs weakly. He only responds with a tighter hug and a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course, Honey," Stiles said. Greenburg turned and made a look at Stiles before walking into the locker room. Stiles then whispers, "Oh, he's pissed, Y/n."

Y/n smiles wider than she's had for weeks. She kisses his nose and pushes him into the locker room, "I'll see you on the field, babe!" Y/n yells. Stiles blushes hard at the nickname. This was going to be harder than he thought... But it's so worth it-

--

Stiles ran around on the field, dodging through people. He was trying his hardest to get a score. It was only a practice game, but with Y/n cheering his name he had to play like his life depended on it.

Y/n sat next to Isaac as he was benched for a bit for shouldering someone so hard they backflipped onto the ground. She had Stiles' water bottle holding it for him when he came back to get a drink.

"Are you dating Stiles?" A voice asks bringing out of her thoughts. It was Isaac. She nods, smiling with a big blush. Her hands fumbled with the plastic bottle in her hands, avoiding his eye contact so he couldn't detect the lie.

"We just made it official today, but I've liked him since I met him," Y/n says kicking her feet against the grass. She somewhat tells the truth so it wouldn't be a whole lie. Hopefully, he falls for it... Isaac follows her legs and smiles at her. Thank the universe...

"Congrats, Y/n... I'm happy for you, Not for Stiles though, he's a dick," Isaac laughs. Just then a sweaty out-of-breath Stiles hugged Y/n with a big slobbery kiss on her cheek.

"She's mine, you Dog," Stiles groans. Isaac rolls his eyes and looks to the field.

"Ahh- Gross Stiles!" Y/n screeches. She wipes his slobber off and he pouts. "You erased my Love!" He kissed her again in the same spot and she couldn't help but laugh. "Better," He says with a quirky smile. He grabs the bottle from her hands and squirts the Gatorade into his mouth.

-

That was one of the few instances to show that they were dating. One of them was when she was in the hallway and a boy, whom she never noticed, came up to her and asked her out on a date. Stiles being Stiles walks up to her and hugs her from behind, kisses her neck, and flips the boy off. "Sorry, not sorry!" They both yell after the boy. They laugh as they said it sync, also because the boy looked so defeated.

"I love this," Stiles mumbles swaying while hugging from behind. He leaves another kiss on her neck. His hands travel her body, resting on her thighs and squeezing them.

Over the few weeks of them fake dating he had gotten more confidant. They had never kissed yet, but they had gotten close numerous times. And he wanted to, hell- even she wanted to. She wanted to kiss him in front of everyone, not caring what anyone said. Maybe she could? Would he let her?

"Being my boyfriend or making people jealous?" Y/n asks while giggling.

"Mmm," Stiles says before leaving another kiss under her ear. "Both," he whispers, taking another step toward her. His hips position to rest against her ass, his hard-on grazing her ass just the tiniest bit. Y/n's breath gets caught when she feels how much he likes it. Her eyes go wide and she breaks free from his hold, giving him a kiss on the cheek for the bystanders.

Don't get her wrong, she didn't hate the fact that he liked it- She even liked it...But she didn't expect him to like the plan this much... Now she's been friends with him since they were little! They showered together and even had sleepovers when they were young. They were as close as they could be. They teased each other about sexual interest but never have they directed their sexual stuff toward one other. That was until his boner pressed against her ass. She now made it her plan to tease him.

"I'll see you after school, baby," She yells, keeping it short.

She runs to the bathroom as quickly as possible, staring at herself in the mirror in distress. "Okay, maybe he would let me," Y/n jokes referring to the kiss under her ear. It wasn't better than being flirted with by everyone, she'd rather be flirted with by her now horny crush-

--

Over the next few days, they had gotten more confident with touching each other. She smacked his ass in the hallway a few times making him yelp and Scott- and many others- stare at her in shock. This time was the same.

She struts her way to Stiles, smacking his ass and then hugging him from behind. "Hey, sexy," Y/n whispers. His breath was caught in his throat.

"Hey, Angel," Stiles laughs. His voice was low, more like a breathy laugh. He continues to talk to Scott about something with a case he was helping his dad with. Scott eyes Y/n but goes back to paying attention to Stiles.

Y/n hands travel lower to around his sweatpants pockets. She stuffs her hands inside and kisses his neck to catch him off guard. His hands enter his pockets as well, you know men's pockets. He interlocks his fingers with her and she chuckles. She noticed that he loved doing that, interlocking his fingers with hers.

Her right hand then leaves his pockets and slithers under his shirt and he stops midsentence. He slowly looks down and eyes Scott to silently ask for help. Scott then asks a question about the case, and Stiles couldn't help but answer. His answer was breathy, but he got his point across.

She could feel his hard-on now pressing against her wrist that was still in his pocket. Y/n licks his neck discreetly and he cuts himself off with a breathy whimper. This causes Scott to stare at the two.

"Do you guys want some privacy? Because I'm pretty sure the hallway isn't private," Scott sarcastically says. Stiles shoves Scott's shoulder and Scott just laughs.

"Let 'em stare," Y/n says with a montoned face. Her finger grazes against his cock as she removes her hand from his. "Oops, sorry, baby."

"It's fine," Stiles groans. He grabs her, placing her in front of him. Scott and Y/n laugh at Stiles as they walk to the cafeteria for lunch. "Shut up," Stiles says in a small voice. Both Scott and Y/n could smell his arousal. Arousal was one of the few human emotions she could sense... only because she was a siren. "Do you guys want to sit outside today?" Stiles asks trying to get the attention off of him.

Soon the three were outside on the benches. Stiles quite literally dragged them outside. He then places Y/n on her lap, telling her that it's her fault so it's her problem to hide.

"I thought you were going to say something else and I might have slapped you if you did," Y/n laughs with relief.

Stiles' eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. "No, never- But I'll deal with it later," he winks.

"Guys! In front of my burger?" Scott whines. His hands throw up into the air, causing the situation more dramatic than it should have. The fake couple laughs at their friend who is now the third wheel. Scott didn't know about them fake dating, he just thought they were actually dating. He didn't put too much thought into it because they always acted like this... just now they pulled the dial up a bit...

-

Later that day Stiles and Y/n were in the library studying. They were still extremely touchy, and it was driving her insane. Not that she would argue- She could feel his touches minutes after it happened, it lingered on her skin like a sticky lotion. And to think it started as a harmless plan that would help her escape attention. But now she wanted his attention- more than anything.

Y/n was in the library studying. Stiles had his hand on her thigh and she couldn't think properly because of it. She gave up on concentrating a bit ago and pushed her stuff away. Her head was lying on the table, her hands digging into the table to escape from reality. It didn't work because he pulled her to his chest and she let out a noise. A fucking whimper.

"What's wrong, princess?" He whispers in a worried voice. He knew what he was doing to her. He could feel the sexual tension. He bathed in it every time they'd hang out. Y/n had to keep refusing to hang out with him alone because of it. She would only hang out with him when another pack member was around. And damn did he take notice of it. She says the same thing when he asks. That she was busy helping her father around the house. He told her that he believed her, only because she had been renovating the house for a while.

"Get your hand- off my thigh, please," Y/n whimpers. He does move it, just not the way she asked for it. He slides it higher, a smirk on his face.

"What's wrong with my hand? I wanna touch my girlfriend," Stiles says simply. He said it so innocently, making her groan internally. Y/n snaps her face toward his, examining his smug face. She squints at him, growling while placing her hand on his inner thigh as well. His eyes went wide and now he was the one that is a blushing mess. "F-fuck," he moans silently, sounding a tad bit like a whimper. She hasn't even touched his cock yet and he feels like he's about to bust.

"Are you sure you want to go through this, Princess?" Stiles whispers, making her shudder to the bone. Her innocent eyes looked up into his. She smiles at him, teasing her head slightly as a way of teasing him. "Sir, You're the one who started it."

Stiles takes a deep breath. He could feel his blood rushing to his cock. He sighs and gathers his stuff into his bag, gathering hers as well and hoisting them over his shoulder. "Where do you think we're going? We have 20 minutes left," Y/n laughs, a little smugness in her voice. He snatches her wrist, pulling her with him. "Should have thought of that before you called me that, Baby."

Her knees go weak- literally. He has to come back for her and guide her hips through the doors to lead her to his jeep. "Fuck- all weak for me already," He groans low into her ear. Her stomach flips when he says this. "Be patient, dollface." She hurries into his jeep, wanting to get his hands on her body as soon as possible. He opens the door for her and then runs to the driver's seat.

The ride was silent, Stiles' hand on her thigh close to her heat. He feels the warmth, and he restrains himself, knowing he will get to it when he gets to his house. She wiggles her hips a bit and he glances at her. She sat biting her lip watching him drive. His hand on the steering wheel was white-knuckling. She leans toward him- more specifically toward his waist. "Would you be mad if I sucked you in here?"

"Would I be mad if you- no I wouldn't be-" Y/n cuts him off by untying his sweats. "Oh, fuck-" He moans as the jeep swerves.

"Focus on the fucking road, Stiles," Y/n demands.

"Yes, Ma'am," Stiles squeaks. She could hear the smirk, she didn't have to see it. He situates his hips, his hard-on being shoved in her face.

She laughs and pulls him out. She admires his length for a bit. It was bigger and better than she thought it would be. It looked like he groomed his pubes, they were nice and curly at the end of his shaft- like he had a routine for it. She licked from the bottom to his tip. He twitches when her tongue comes in contact with his tip. She kisses it, her tongue then sliding along the slit. "Fuck, Princess."

She spits onto her hand a few times, wanting as much lubrication as she could get. She then sucks him, her hand twisting at the bottom of shift what she couldn't fit in her mouth. She loves this. She wanted to do this for years. She wanted to use him as a pacifier when she was upset, and now she finally could. All because she was on the top of the most attractive list at Beacon Hills.

Y/n hums on his cock, the vibration going through him. He swerves a bit, trying his best to keep his eyes open to focus on the road. But her mouth felt so well- This was the first sexual act they'd had- how in the world would they top this? Now he really felt like he could bust at any moment. His hips twitched, thrusting a bit into her mouth. His tip hits the back of her throat and she gags. "That hurt," she pouts.

"Shh, baby, you can take it," He groans as his hand pats her hair. Y/n moaned at the sound of his voice. All of a sudden the car stops. "As much as I love that slutty mouth of yours, I want you spread out for me on my bed," He moans graciously.

Y/n gets out of the car quickly. In a flash, she was by his door opening it for him. He was shoving his dick back into his pants. Y/n pulls him out by the collar of his shirt, shutting the car door behind him as he is dragged to his house. Luckily there was no other car there, meaning that Noah was at work. "For once, I'm glad that Noah isn't here," she sighed.

"Same," Siles agrees. He then twirls her around to face him, picking her up by the thighs. He enters the house, kicking the door behind him, and carries her to his room. He throws her on her bed, shredding himself from his flannel. Then he pulls her to the edge, his face so close to his. "Can I kiss you now? I've been holding back since you asked me to be your fake boyfriend..." Stiles says, his voice so low it makes her wetter.

She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in. In a yelp he kisses back, his mouth exploring hers. Gosh... He tasted better than she ever would have thought. She could even taste the gum he had in earlier that day.

Y/n was the first to release the kiss, sliding down onto her knees. She quickly pulls his length out, faster than he could recollect. His pants fall to his ankles, along with his boxers. She leaves a kiss on his dick that was dripping precum from how hard it was. "Gosh," He moans as his head falls back. "Just like that, Angel."

Her pussy flutters at the praise. Never would have she thought that she liked praise so much. Nor would she ever thought she would have sucked her crush-of-13-years' dick. The rhythm of her bopping was slow. It had him gripping her hair, his hand going along with the movement as she did so.

"Fuckin' Love your cock, Sti-"

"Less talking more sucking," Stiles demands. She obeys, going back to sucking his girth. Her rhythm was a bit quicker as she sucked harder on him. She stares into his eyes and he moans loudly in response. She was caught off guard at something warm hitting the back of her throat. "Fuck- Princess..." he moans, sounding like a breathy whimper. "Your mouth is amazing- Come here," He pulls her up. She still hadn't swallowed his cum so he was surprised at the thick liquid on her tongue. "My dirty girl- Tricked me into tasting my cum," Stiles growls. "Strip for me," He takes a step back, pulling his own shirt off and watching her obey.

All while she strips she stares into his eyes, multiplying the sexual tension by a hundred. "You're under my lure, baby. You realize you're going to want to fuck me every time you kiss me, don't you?" Y/n purrs. Stiles pushes her down, his hand holding her waist down as he opens her legs. His face was in front of her panties-covered cunt.

"Oh, darling... I want to fuck you regardless..." He tugs on the hem of her underwear. She nods and he pulls it off.

"Get used to it being amplified, Honey. You're stuck with me..."

He leaves a long lick on her clit, the flat of his tongue grazing against the bundle of nerves. His needy hands massage her thick thighs. It oddly comforted her. He hums in response, sending the vibrations through her delicious cunt. "My Stiles," She moans, her hands gripping his hair. He winks at her, silently approving her words.

Her eyes could barely stay open. The pleasure was just too much for her. He smacks the side of her thigh lightly, making her eyes snap open. "Eyes on me, pretty girl." His tongue goes back to her clit, his lips occasionally sucking on it.

"Mmgh- Stiles- I'm-"

His fingers were at her entrance. They teased her before dipping into her. Her head falls back into a scream, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck her with more fingers. He was one step ahead of her, adding another finger. The stretch was perfect for her, his long thick fingers were way better than her fingers could ever reach.

Before she could even finish he pulled off of her. He kisses her hard and fast. It was sensual, but everything but sweet. It was needy, demanding more of what she gave him so easily. He needed her, and he needed her more. And he needed all of her.

His dick was so painfully hard it was throbbing. He noticed- but he did not care. He wanted to savor this moment. He wanted to remember every small detail so he could use it when he was alone at the dusk of night.

His face now hovers over her cunt that was spread out for him. He places her legs over her shoulder, now hovering over. "Saw this position in a video once," He murmurs.

"Yeah? Maybe we can watch some videos together sometime... and practice the positions."

Stiles' eyes widen, his breath caught in the wind. He gulps, "Yeah-Yeah- of course, we can. But for now I really want to feel you, Angel," he begs. His cock was already pressed against her entrance. She nodded, tapping his bicep so he could get the point.

"Just fuck me already, Sti, stop being gentle-AH," She was cut off with his dick shoving into her. She was already a moaning mess and he wasn't even moving, allowing her to adjust to his big size. She grinds her hips against him, trying to get some type of friction.

"If I move now, it's gonna hurt, angel."

"I don't care, just move," She whines. He moves at an agonizingly slow pace, wanting to be his usual self and tease her.

"Stiles," she laughs. "Stop being a fucking smartass." At that, his thrusts were almost brutal. There was a slight pain, but it was mostly pleasure.

"Don't call me that when I can split you in two, baby," Stiles moans. His cock moves fast inside her, hitting every spot that made her feel like she was soaring through space amongst the stars. "Such a fuckin' dirty girl... All spread out for her fake boyfriend... Teasing all the other boys what they could never have... Only I can have you... Only me, baby, just me." His dirty words were mostly for himself, but she didn't argue. It was the hottest thing he'd ever said yet.

Y/n screams for him, her hands gripping onto something- which happened to be her thighs that were pressed against her chest. "I'm gonna-"

Stiles cuts her off with a loud growl. "Don't you fucking dare!" He kisses her neck hard, leaving a mark. It was hard for her to hold back, her nails digging into her thighs. "Tell me you're my girlfriend, baby, then you can cum," He whimpers. Y/n's vision faded with pleasure when he said this. Fuck this was so hot...

"You're fucking me and now you ask me to date you? Of course-"

Stiles once again cut her off. This time it was a kiss. Thank the universe for Y/n being flexible. But he couldn't kiss her properly so he moved her legs around his waist, his thrust continuing after he did so. "My good little girl... Love her pussy- It's my pussy now. Belongs to me-"

"Please let me-" She moves her hands to his back, her nails digging into it deliciously.

"You can cum when say what I wanted you to say," His thrusts slow a bit, becoming a tad bit sloppy. It only makes it harder for her to hold the upcoming orgasm off. She felt like she was going to explode with the utmost pleasure that she could ever experience.

"I'm your girlfriend, Stiles- I'm yours, only yours to use and to touch."

Stiles kisses her forehead. "Cum for me, baby... Be my good girl and cum."

The pleasure was too much for her. Her body shakes with the best orgasm that she's ever had. He moves into her to help her orgasm, then pulls out at the last second and releases on her stomach. "Fuck- oh my-," he moans as he finishes.

He kisses her, cupping her face and pulling her hair out of her face. "Such a beautiful girl for me." He picks her up, carrying her to the bathroom. He does something while she sits on the counter. He comes back to her with a washcloth and cleans her up. "You okay, angel?" He asks toward his orgasm-dazed girlfriend. She nods slowly and pulls him into a hug.

"Can we have shower sex?" Y/n asks in a hushed voice. He smirks and carries her to the shower, turning the water on.

"Does that answer your question?" Stiles asks before littering her back with kisses.

[ingravinoveritas]

After seeing all those stories of Georgia going shopping with David (I'm honestly surprised that David knows how to drive, I don't know why), I think David is fed up with so much video.

@electronic-chocolate @victorianlonging Okay, so...I have indeed seen all of the stories that are referenced here, and I think a couple of things can be true at the same time. But let's first get the visual up for anyone who hasn't seen it (all in one video, for ease of viewing):

The first thought that I had is how reminiscent this was of what we've seen recently, with Georgia filming David when he seemingly really doesn't want to be filmed (such as at that festival last month).

What also came to mind is something I think at least several of us thought of (if my DMs are any indication), which is that David is clearly, visibly annoyed. There's no real way to not notice it, with him looking incredulous in the car (though I did laugh when he said "I'm not dressed for this," given how adorable he looked without even realizing it), and then when she sets the tone by immediately using the word "content." There's no question that that's what the objective of this was: To have content of/with David that Georgia could post to garner attention.

Once they're in the store, we see him balling up the shopping bags in his hands, which to me came across as a sign of anxiety. And given how non-confrontational we know David is, it's almost amazing to hear him respond to Georgia's "Say hi!" with an immediate "Nope." And the whole thing sort of becomes what you might call a self-narrating zoo exhibit (or "self-paparazzi," as I recently heard someone aptly describe it) where David is literally just trying to shop for groceries while Georgia is sticking a camera in his face.

We also notice that at one point, David is recognized by some fans and stops to take a picture with them, which when you think about it is likely a regular occurrence, since he has one of the most famous faces in the country. But because that is the case, you'd also think he would feel a sense of relief when those interactions are over and he no longer has to be "on"...until he goes back to Georgia and she is filming him. And as good-natured as David is, there's no doubt that it must get a little tiring after a while.

All that said--and in the interest of providing a balanced perspective--it is possible that David was playing things up, to an extent, and perhaps even exaggerating some of the annoyance that we saw. And there was something else about this that stood out to me, and that deserves discussion: His shoes...

Yes, David was wearing gay pride Doc Martens. GAY PRIDE BOOTS, ladies and gentlemen and those of other gender persuasions. And when we realize this is the case, everything about this vlog/series of stories starts to gets very interesting. Because while the shoes were by no means the focal point of the Insta stories, Georgia had to know that David's eagle-eyed fans would clock them right away. And clock them they did (and I also noticed this pair of Pride-themed Doc Martens, and would not be at all surprised to learn that David owns a pair of those as well).

Leaving aside the fact that no straight man on this Earth--no matter how strong an ally--would wear those boots (I mean...come on), I almost saw this as a callback/follow up to Georgia's story from a few months ago where she appeared to use "their" pronouns when talking about David (rather than he/him). Much discussion was had at the time of this being a way to "test the waters" for David to start being more open about his sexuality/identity, and this almost feels like a continuation of that.

Having heard from queer followers of mine who are not fully out to their families/friends, it seems that it is not uncommon for folks in that position to wear things to drop little "hints" around people they are not ready to disclose to yet. And when you think about the number of "hints" from the last few months--the nonbinary pin, the pronoun Insta story, David getting emotional talking about Pride Month on that podcast, and now these new Insta stories wearing those boots--it makes you wonder if it's all building toward something.

Whatever the case may be, it's still difficult to overlook how uncomfortable David looked at times in those videos today--even if he was playing things up. For my part, I would genuinely rather never have Georgia post anything about David again than see him in her posts knowing that he is uncomfortable with it. I also agree that her hunger for content seems to be increasing, but I would also like to hope that if David did seriously ask Georgia to stop filming--for any reasons--that she would do so.

So I suppose we'll have to see what (if anything) this all leads to, and what will happen if/when she films him again. Happy as always to hear others' thoughts in the comments...

[noramoons]

seasons (waiting on you).

pairing: yeonjun x reader, (eventual) taehyun x reader

genre: college au, angst, slight fluff at the end

rating: T/13+

word count: 16.5k (i am so sorry)

warnings: explicit language, one (1) mention of alcohol, descriptions of a breakup, depression and anxiety depictions, mentions of harmful behaviors and thoughts, just so many post-breakup emotions being described for way too long BUT angst with a happy ending :)

summary: when your high school sweetheart choi yeonjun is off to grad school, you aren’t too worried about how your relationship will last—but your favorite coworker, kang taehyun, is.

OR:

a study in the seasons of loving and losing choi yeonjun—and how you put yourself back together afterwards.

playlist: telepath - conan grey, let you break my heart again - laufey, back 2 u (A.M. 01:27) - nct 127, i don’t know you anymore - eric nam, drive - ashton irwin, seasons (waiting on you) - future islands

I. PROLOGUE. 

Loving Yeonjun was like watching a meteor shower cross the sky. It was beautiful, and you considered yourself blessed to have been able to see it with your own eyes—but like everything else in life, it was inevitable that it had to end. 

And it ended too soon.

You still remember the day he transferred to your high school—everyone had practically stared as he walked down the hallway, beaming politely at the people at he passed on his way to his first class. He was like a celebrity almost instantly, and not just because he was a transfer student—Choi Yeonjun was beautiful, and jaw-droppingly so, at that. 

You ended up having two classes with him, to the mostly-pretend envy of your friends. They did all say that they would be far too nervous to even try to talk to someone like Choi Yeonjun, but you didn't feel that way. He was stunningly handsome, certainly—but he was still just a high schooler like you. You didn't feel intimidated by him in the same way that your friends clearly did. 

So one day you offered to help him with Mrs. Jung's pre-calculus homework—she was a notoriously difficult math teacher, but this was the second year you'd had her. You knew what to expect with her by that point. You didn't, however, know what to expect with your offer towards Yeonjun—it was just a passing remark you made at the end of class that you would be more than happy to give him some pointers on how to pass her quizzes if he ever needed them. Nothing too serious. 

But he'd looked up at you. Blinked. And then smiled, meeting your gaze with those soft bright eyes that practically made you melt right then and there in that classroom. "Thank you," he'd said, as genuine a thank you as you'd ever heard.  "I'd love that. Could I ask you for another favor, actually?" 

You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say next, but you nodded anyway, despite your gut telling you no. 

"Can you tell me some good places to eat here? My family just moved—you know that, obviously, but I'm getting kind of tired of takeout every single night. So if you have any recommendations that, um...aren't chain restaurants, I'd appreciate it a lot." He had laughed slightly nervously after that. 

Something fluttered within your chest. Oh. Choi Yeonjun, for all his good looks and charming attitude, was kind of awkward, too. 

It just made you melt even more. 

You did end up telling him the best local places to eat in your city, surprising yourself with your own bravery when you told him you wouldn't mind showing them to him yourself sometime—and he replied with that reassuring smile once again. "I'd love that, too," he'd said. 

You'd exchanged numbers, but you didn't really think anything would come of it—it was always possible that Yeonjun had just been polite, after all. He surprised you once again, though, with a text that weekend asking to meet him at the breakfast bar you had recommended. 

Just me? you'd asked. 

Yeonjun had responded within minutes. Just you. 

On Saturday, you stressed for nearly an hour over what to wear, trying on combination after combination of outfits. Everything you had was too old (there's a difference between vintage and gross). Too new (trying too hard, much?). Too short (what will he think of you?). Not short enough (did you time-travel in from the 1800s?). But eventually, you settled on something that was just slightly above casual wear and made your way to the restaurant to be ten minutes early.

Yeonjun was there before you, giving you a small wave when you pushed open the door to the restaurant. You'd thought someone as cool in appearance like him wouldn't be the kind of person to get somewhere super early, even earlier than you—bur Choi Yeonjun seemed to be the kind of person who just kept surprising you. His outward appearance that made nearly everyone you knew practically fall at his feet clearly wasn't all there was to him. 

You learned quite a bit more about Yeonjun that day, and you'd continue to learn more when he asked you to meet him for lunch again later that week. He wanted a dog, but the apartment he was living in with his family wouldn't allow it. He listened to just about every kind of music you'd ever heard. He was a good, genuine kind of listener, hanging on your every word whenever it was your turn to speak. It was a little detail, but you would've been lying if you said it hadn't made your heart beat faster every time you noticed it. 

It wasn't until the third outing that you finally gathered up the courage to ask him what had been on your mind since that very first invitation. "Yeonjun?" you asked, almost stuttering on his name as it passed your lips. Get it together. 

He looked up from his bowl of noodles. "Mmm-hmm?"

"Is this, um...is this a date?" 

He only hesitated for an instant. "Is that okay? I mean," he had started, trying to hold your gaze, "would you want it to be?"

You nodded, maybe too quickly. "I would."

The grin that instantly tugged the corners of his lips immediately melted any insecurities you'd had away. That was always what being around Yeonjun was like—he just set you at ease. 

You felt that same way a month later, when you'd agreed to meet him at an art museum downtown that you'd mentioned wanting to go to. He'd led you through the halls, warm hand in yours, gazing at the different paintings hung on the walls together—different expressions of love and hate and sorrow and every expression that man could expel into a paintbrush. 

Well—you had been staring at the medley of colors and brush strokes on the painting directly in front of you. Yeonjun, unbeknownst to you, hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd walked into this particular room. "I have something to tell you," he'd said. "I...I don't like beating around the bush with these kinds of things."

You turned to face him at the sudden declaration. Your heart was pounding against your chest loud enough that you wondered if Yeonjun could hear it, but you swallowed down your nervousness and nodded. 

He took your silent reply as confirmation to keep going. "I like you," he said, never looking away from your eyes for an instant. "I want to keep going out with you, if that's something you want." 

You remember thinking that Yeonjun had to have been able to hear how loud your heart was from inside your chest—you'd never felt that kind of nervous excitement before in your life. Still, you managed to nod again, smiling softly at his words. "I'd really like that too, Yeonjun. Because I like you too." 

He'd beamed at you, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room, as if you were a piece of art to be marveled at despite the awe-inspiring works surrounding both of you—and you returned that grin as much as you could. 

And now you're here, years away from that day where you and Yeonjun had both confessed. It's like everything has fallen into place just like it was meant to. 

It's the longest relationship you've ever been in, not to mention the first long-term relationship you've ever had, and you've been fascinated by the way it has evolved. Seeing Yeonjun when you walk into a room doesn't fill you with nervous excitement anymore; rather, it calms you down, simply grounding you with his presence. You don't feel nervous about bringing your concerns to him, worried about what he might think about  you when you overanalyze the conversation afterwards—instead, you take comfort in the fact that he brings his concerns to you, too. He loves you. And you love him. 

You'd spent a year apart when he had graduated high school before you, but you'd promised with teary eyes as you helped him move into his college dormitory that you'd keep this going if that was what he wanted. "Don't, um...don't forget about me while you're having fun at college," you'd quipped in the parking lot right before you left. It was a joke (mostly), but Yeonjun had heard the worry in your voice. He'd smiled at you then, just like he had all those years ago. 

"Of course," he'd said, holding you tightly to his chest in an attempt to not betray any of his own worries about the next year. "You'll have to try a little harder to get rid of me, I hope you know." 

You did know—there was never any doubt in your mind that he loved you just as much as you loved him. Yeonjun had always kept his promises, and that year apart didn't change a thing. He made sure the two of you FaceTimed at least once a week, even during his exam seasons, and both of you always sent a goodnight, i love you text every day, even if it was the only thing you said to each other that day. You'd surprise him occasionally, making a trip up to his university to visit and spoil him all weekend, taking him wherever he wanted to eat, and he'd do the same to you on weekends he could come home. 

You had been so proud of both of you for keeping that relationship alive for the year you were apart, and Yeonjun was overjoyed when you told him you'd gotten into the university he was currently attending. It wasn't long before you were side-by-side every day once again, just like you'd been in high school, and you were still just as in love as you were back then. 

Yeonjun is remarkably smart—but you knew that already, knew it even when you offered to help him with pre-calculus back in high school. That's why it doesn't surprise you when he's able to graduate college early, on top of getting multiple grad school offers for his Master's degree. He takes you with him to tour the schools he's looking at, even though he knows you won't be there for a while—you're as much a part of his decision-making-process as he is. You'd waited for him in that interval before you'd gone to college—you can wait for him here, too.

Being with Yeonjun was like a dream, all of it. 

You suppose you had to wake up eventually.

II. FALL

It surprises you when those seeds of doubt begin to sow themselves in your mind. It's been three months since Yeonjun has left for grad school across the country, but you can count the number of times he's called to check on you on both hands. You know you aren't the same lovesick teenagers you were when he had gone off for college and left you for a year in high school, but you had thought that it wouldn't be that different.

But a good relationship is nothing without communication—you and Yeonjun haven't made it work this long without reminding each other occasionally to keep in touch. So you send him a quick text. 

< everything going okay? miss u <33

You don't have time to wait around for his reply, though—your shift at the university library starts in just under thirty minutes, so you decide you'd better go ahead and head that way.

Your coworkers are all lounging against the front desk when you clock in, clipping your nametag underneath your collar. "What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head at their sudden giggling. 

Taehyun points towards the study corrals. "Kai's drooling." 

"I am not," Kai interrupts, frowning. "I..."

He trails off as a girl walks out of one of the study corrals, pulling her headphones out of her tote bag before placing them delicately over her ears, smiling softly as her music starts before she heads for the doors. 

You share a knowing glance with Taehyun, who smirks at you. He's been a close comfort as you've started university—you feel blessed to get along with all your coworkers, but Taehyun is someone you've meshed with practically right from the start. Your majors are in the same department, so you've had quite a bit of overlap with your required classes—you and Taehyun have already spent many a day off together back in the library, comparing notes and cramming for quizzes together. He's a much better note-taker than you, which is slightly aggravating, but your memory is better than his, so you usually remember class material better than he does. It's an unusual equivalent exchange between the two of you, but you're both pleased with how well it's worked so far. Not to mention how easy he is to spend time with—you swear your study sessions with Taehyun almost always feel like minutes instead of hours. It reminds you, sometimes, of how your first few dates with Yeonjun had gone (this, of course, is a thought you squash the moment it appears). 

"Oh, my God," Kai says, practically groaning even as you and Taehyun giggle at him. "She's so cute. What am I going to do?" 

Taehyun turns to you, smirking. "What do you think? Think he's got a chance?" 

You raise both your hands in mock self-defense. "Hey, this is all between Kai and that girl. Besides, I'd never date a coworker. Just gets too messy, you know?" 

Beomgyu pokes his head out from organizing the storage closet behind you. "Aren't you literally dating Yeonjun?"

You scoff. "I'll have you know I was dating Yeonjun long before he worked here. Or before I worked here, either." Yeonjun had only worked at the university library his first year, but he'd gotten along really well with Soobin, one of the managers, and putting in a good word for you certainly didn't hurt when you had told him you were looking for a job at the start of the school year.

Beomgyu makes a face. "Well. Shady application or not—you're reshelving the architecture textbooks upstairs since you're almost late." 

You aren't late, actually—you've clocked in five minutes early, but you don't quite have the energy for getting into a mostly-pretend argument with Beomgyu today. So you offer him a wink before grabbing a handful of architecture textbooks from the desk and heading upstairs to the art section. 

You pass several couples studying together on your way up to the third floor. Only a few are really studying, though—most have notebooks and laptops spread out, sure, but just about every other couple on a study date of their own is putting much more emphasis on the date part, rather than the study part. 

Not that you blame them at all—you and Yeonjun used to do the same thing. You remember plenty of study sessions where you'd gaze up from your computer to find Yeonjun taking a silly candid photo of you before you'd scoff, playfully begging him to delete it (which he would never do—you look too cute so focused like that, he'd say). But you always saw them later when he made them the lockscreen on his phone. 

You wonder what his lockscreen is now, you think absentmindedly as you haul several books onto one shelf. It's been months since you saw him or his phone. At that thought, you glance down at your own phone tucked into your jeans pocket to see if he's sent you any kind of response to your message earlier—but your notification screen is just as empty as it was the last time you checked. 

Those seeds of worry dig themselves deeper. 

But you tell yourself again not to worry. There's no point—you and Yeonjun have been through plenty together. You know you have no idea how busy and stressful graduate school must be, but you're sure you'll hear all about it the next time you see Yeonjun. 

It's the same thing you tell yourself when you get in your car to go back to your apartment once your shift ends, checking your phone once again to see an empty screen. 

And again tomorrow morning, when your notification screen is still blank (aside from the outdated memes Soobin is spamming your work groupchat with) on your way to class. 

There's no doubt about it now. Those seeds are planted. You're worried. 

But, as it turns out, only for a few hours—because you do finally, finally receive a reply from Yeonjun halfway through your shift at the library, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest in a way it hasn't in years when you finally see his name pop up at the top of your notifications. 

> hey! 

> can you talk soon? 

You look around the library. It's a Friday night—hardly anyone on campus is studying, but Soobin has still scheduled you, Taehyun, and Kai for tonight—you're practically over-staffed, so you're sure he won't mind if you step outside for a quick moment. 

You make your way towards the chemistry section, where Soobin is currently organizing some kind of midterms display. "Hi," you say, sweetly. 

He turns his head to face you, suspicion tugging at the corners of his eyes. "Hi," he repeats, slowly. "What's up?" 

"Mind if I step outside really quick? I have to make a call." 

Soobin narrows his eyes, and you know he's onto you. But he still gestures towards the door with his head before tapping on his wristwatch. "Just make it quick, alright?"

You nod way too quickly. "You got it," you say, beaming at him before practically dashing for the doors, pulling up Yeonjun's contact information on your phone and calling him immediately. 

He picks up on the third ring. "Hey," he starts.

"Hi," you respond, trying not to sound too terribly excited to hear his voice. "How's school going?"

He hums. "It's alright, I guess. You?" God, he sounds tired—you'll have to come up with something really nice to surprise him with the next time you see him. You're not sure what his favorite restaurants are in his new city, but you can ask around with his friends—you're sure he has plenty already. He's always been that way—that charm of his had certainly worked on you too, after all.

So you make a similar hum of agreement. "It's okay so far. I really miss you, Jjun." 

There's a strange pause after those words—as if you and Yeonjun had a script for your conversations, and he had lost his. You had fully expected him to return the sentiment, just like he always had before. Instead, you hear him take a breath. "Do you have time to talk, Y/N?"

The seeds of worry are back, digging themselves deeper and insisting on growing roots within your head. "Um...sure," you manage to get out, trying to ignore the sudden panic clawing at the bottom of your stomach. 

He sighs, and there's a long space of time before he continues. "...I really wish I could see you. You deserve this in person at least, you know? But...fuck, there's no easy way to do it, I guess. I—I don't think we should do this anymore. Us, I mean—I think we need to be done." 

You aren't sure if you heard him right. There's no, no way your Yeonjun just said...that. "...What?" you say, laughing nervously. "I'm sorry—are you saying we need a break?" 

Yeonjun clears his throat. "No," he says. "Not a break. I don't think that would be fair to either of us. I think we need to be done." 

Blindsided doesn't even begin to cover how you feel. You feel like Yeonjun has just dumped a bucket of ice water over your head through the phone. "Yeonjun—you're breaking up with me?" 

He takes a moment to reply. "Yeah, Y/N. I am. And I'm so, so sorry, I—"

"Over the phone?" you sputter, indignant tears blooming at the corners of your eyes. "You're ending a four and a half year relationship...over a phone call?" 

You can't see him, but you know the wince he's making, judging by the sound of the sigh that leaves his mouth. "I told you, I would've had to fly out to come see you—and I figured you probably wouldn't have let me stay the rest of the weekend at your place afterwards," he says, laughing awkwardly. "I'm too broke as it is these days anyway." 

You just can't believe what you're hearing. This is a nightmare. It has to be. "So...what?" you choke out, brushing back tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes. "Did I...do something?" 

"Oh, God, no," Yeonjun says hurriedly, and the concern in his voice is genuine. You know what that sounds like, at least. "Honestly. You didn't do anything, Y/N—it's my fault. I let this relationship grow static, and I let myself fall into a routine—and I just sort of stopped feeling the way I had before. I should have done this before, but I was too much of a coward, and I'm so, so sorry—I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I hope you can forgive me. Maybe we can be friends, one day." 

A long time passes before you answer. "One day," you repeat. "But not now." 

He lets out a short laugh. "I didn't think you'd want to be friends now." 

"I...fuck, Yeonjun," you say, nervous and shocked laughter escaping your throat. "I don't want this to be over at all. There's...there's no way this just came out of nowhere." 

He hums apprehensively. "I don't know what else I can say. It's the truth—I just let myself become bored with the relationship, and that's my fault. I should have tried harder a long time ago, and for that, I...I really am sorry." 

"I—I guess I just don't see why it isn't too late to try now," you stammer. "Why?"

"...Y/N, I don't want to try now, anymore," he whispers, and it's only then that you really get what he's been trying to tell you all along. He's done with you—whatever he felt for you all those years ago when you whispered your mutual confessions in that quiet art gallery, is gone. 

Yeonjun does not love you anymore. How you feel about him doesn't matter. 

It takes several uncomfortable beats of silence before you speak again. "Okay," you say, voice shaking. "Okay. I get it. G...goodbye, Yeonjun." 

He lets out a shaky sigh of his own. "Goodbye, Y/N. I'm so—"

But you hang up before he can say anything else. You don't want to hear another word from him now. You're trembling as you end the call, sliding your phone back into your back pocket. You're going home—there's no fucking way you can make it through the rest of your shift after this. You walk back inside as calmly as you can, sliding your nametag off your collar and placing it on the desk. 

Taehyun hasn't quite turned around to see you when you do so. "Oh, Y/N, you won't believe what Kai just sent—huh?" He frowns, finally noticing your nametag on the front counter. 

"Can you, um...can you tell Soobin when he gets back that I'm going home? I'll come early on Saturday, I'll do whatever he needs me to do to make up for this time, but I really need to go home." You absolutely cannot, under any circumstance, let them see you like this—especially not Taehyun, your favorite coworker. You don't think he'd ever let you hear the end of it. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say, way, way too quickly to be nothing. "I'm sick. I...I-I'll see you guys on Saturday, okay?" You turn around and walk towards the library doors as fast as you can, practically making a beeline for the doors—but you aren't fast enough to not hear the familiar sound of Taehyun unclipping his own nametag and slamming it on the desk behind you. 

"Kai, tell Soobin I'm feeling sick, too. I'll call Beomgyu to come cover for me for the rest of this shift." 

"You...what?" Kai practically splutters, leaning over the front counter to call after the both of you. "What the hell's wrong with you two?" 

You have to make it to the car. You can have the breakdown you so desperately need in there, but you are not going to sob your eyes out right outside the university library. 

Taehyun, however, apparently isn't going to let you do either. "Y/N," he says behind you once the two of you are outside, grabbing hold of your bicep. "What's going on? What's wrong? Please—just talk to me."

You shake your head. "Taehyun, please, I just need to go home. I'm going to have a fucking meltdown right on the street if you don't at least let me get to my car," you sputter, voice trembling as you try to keep the tears at bay. 

But Taehyun shakes his head too. "No. We can go in my car. You said you parked in the guest lot today because you were almost late. Remember?"

You do remember—and at this point, you don't care enough to argue with him. So you nod in agreement, following him into the lot in a walk that has to be the longest minute and a half of your life. Once you're in Taehyun's car, though, shutting the passenger door behind you, you can't fight the tears prickling at your eyes anymore. 

"Hey—hey, talk to me, Y/N. Please. What's going on?" 

You shake your head, burying your head in your hands to try to muffle your sobs. "He broke up with me, Tae," you manage to choke out, even though the verbal confirmation of what just happened just makes you cry harder. 

"He—what? The fuck? Yeonjun?" 

"Who else?" you snap back, voice shaking. "He said we've...grown apart since he moved away. That he doesn't love me anymore. But I still love him, Taehyun," you sniff, tears tracking down your face and slipping into your open mouth in what must be an absolute mess to behold. "What am I supposed to do?"

If Taehyun thinks you look a mess, though, he doesn't tell you. "Fuck...Y/N, I'm so, so sorry," he starts, gently. "I know that doesn't mean anything—but I really am."

You shake your head. "No. It does mean something." 

He gestures towards his backseat. "If you want to beat up my backseats, go for it. I've done that after a few shitty shifts before—it can be pretty cathartic." 

But you just shake your head again, sniffling. "I just want to go home, Taehyun. Please." 

He just nods, turning the keys in the ignition before reaching into the center console in his car to grab an envelope of tissues, taking several and handing them to you. "In case you need these." 

You sniff again. "Thank you," you say, even though you know you're nowhere near done crying about this. 

You don't live too far from the university, so Taehyun's pulling into the parking lot of your apartment building before you know it. Your apartment is only on the second floor, and there's a set of stairs outside, so Taehyun is able to park almost right below your apartment. He turns to face you again. "This is you, right?" 

You nod. "Yes. Thank you, Tae." 

He glances for a moment at your door before looking back at you, worry etched on his features. "You want some time to yourself? I can come back tomorrow if you want me to check on you." 

Normally, you think, you'd say yes. You'd want to go finish crying by yourself and getting it all out of your system right before you force yourself to fall asleep—but you think about your apartment. You think about the hoodies in your closet, the pictures adorning your shelves, the stuffed animals on your bed—Yeonjun is everywhere in your apartment. You can't face these remainders of him alone.

So you shake your head. "No, I...um, can you come inside, please? You don't have to stay, I just don't know if I can—"

But Taehyun doesn't let you finish, turning off the car's ignition and opening his door, immediately walking around to open yours. Normally, you'd make some quip here about chivalry not being dead, but you can't find the energy within yourself to make anything of the sort. 

You make your way up the stairs before unlocking your door and making your way to your bedroom, trying to avoid the onslaught of photos of you and Yeonjun in the living room before collapsing onto your bed, covering your face in your pillows and sobbing the way you wanted to earlier. You hardly even notice Taehyun beside you, rubbing small circles on your back while you soak the pillowcase below you, chest heaving with hiccups in between sobs. 

You don't turn around to face him until you feel like you've emptied every tear in your eyes, now red and puffy as you catch your breath. 

Taehyun frowns at the state of you, finally moving his hand away from the small of your back. "Where are your washcloths?" he asks. 

What? "Um...o-on the rack beside the shower," you say, gesturing towards the bathroom in the hallway. 

You're perplexed when he leaves, even more so when you hear the sound of the sink running, but he's back in an instant with a wet cloth, sitting back down beside you on your bed. He hesitates for an instant. "For your cheeks," he says, tapping his own. "It'll feel better." 

Oh. "Thanks," you say, somewhat lamely, before taking the washcloth from his hands. It's warm, you realize, and he's right—it does feel nice on your tear-stained cheeks, especially under your now-puffy eyes—a gentle contrast to the sobs that had racked your entire body minutes ago. 

You set the washcloth down, looking back up at Taehyun, who offers you a reassuring smile—one you've seen plenty of times at the library, when one of you has messed up on organizing a section and had to endure a lecture from Soobin. It's not a bad expression to be on the receiving end of. "Come here," he says, opening his arms, and you let him pull you into his chest without a second thought. It's the first time you've hugged Taehyun, you think absentmindedly—but you suppose that doesn't matter. You're grateful to have him here with you now—you can't imagine how much worse you'd feel alone in your room now. 

He lets you hold onto him for as long as you need, only pulling away when you do. "Did you eat before work?" he asks softly. 

You shake your head. You'd planned on making something from your pantry after your shift, but the thought of getting up and being productive right now feels like a Herculean task. 

Taehyun must be able to see the exhaustion on your face, because he just nods. "That's okay," he says. "I'll order in." 

And he does. You spend the rest of the evening eating takeout from the Thai place down the street on your bed with Taehyun, who stays beside you and makes sure you have a nearly-full glass on your nightstand at all times, to make up for how you'd practically dehydrated yourself sobbing. And you do cry again in the middle of eating dinner, but Taehyun doesn't flinch—he just nestles you in his sturdy arms again until you don't have any tears left to cry. 

He does make a comment about leaving if you'd prefer sometime past midnight, but one look from you causes the rest of the sentence to die on his tongue, and he doesn't say another word about it. 

You wake up in the morning just before noon, and you feel only a single instant pang of panic before you see Taehyun's outstretched limbs on the couch in the living room, chest rising and falling evenly in sleep. You aren't sure when he got up to let you sleep on your own—you hardly even remember falling asleep, but the sight of him causes your heartbeat to even back out for a moment. 

That doesn't last long, though—it's only an instant before your barely-awake mind remembers what had caused him to spend the night in the first place, and you immediately feel that now-familiar twinge of sorrow in your chest. 

And it doesn't go away—no, that feeling hangs heavy in your chest. You know, then and there, that it's going to be a weight you'll carry around for a long time. 

III. WINTER.

You're right on all accounts. 

You never flat out tell the rest of your coworkers what happened between you and Yeonjun, but they must be able to read between the lines—all of them tiptoe around you for weeks. Even Soobin never teases you at work anymore, which you almost miss. You aren't a piece of glass, after all—but with the way that everyone treats you at work, you'd think you were. 

But maybe there's some truth to their treatment. Not a day goes by that you don't think about Yeonjun's words—that he'd basically just gotten bored with you. You know he'd said you hadn't done anything, but you had to have done something for that to occur, right? It didn't make any sense otherwise. 

You are proud of yourself when your track record for "crying over Yeonjun" goes from every day to once a week, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt. Just like the love you'd known from him had been something beautiful like you'd never experienced, you've never known anything as painful as this.

So much of your identity before had been being Yeonjun's partner. For Christ's sake, he was the whole reason you'd been able to get this job at the library in the first place—and now you have to distance yourself from that. You have to. You don't have another choice.

At one point, Beomgyu does suggest going out for drinks after work with Soobin. "Everyone's going," he adds gently, as if that will somehow be the thing to convince you to pull yourself out of your mental wallowing. "Won't be as fun without you, though." 

You force a smile across your lips. You do still remember how to do that, right? Smile? "I, um...I'll have to catch you guys next time. I'm busy that night." 

Beomgyu's eyes narrow. "I haven't told you what day we're going out yet, Y/N." 

You wince. "Beomgyu, I—I'm sorry. I really appreciate you trying, but I just don't think I'm there yet. I'm sorry."

He rolls his eyes a little at that. "I think this is exactly what you need right now, personally. We'll make sure you have fun, I promise. So much fun that you won't even think about old what's-his-name the entire night." 

You know good and well that Beomgyu remembers Yeonjun's name, and that he's practically putting on a show to convince you to go get drunk with him and Soobin and God knows who else—but you can't. Not yet. So you turn him down again, and this time he finally relents, taking the hint and leaving to sort through the returned books bin. Going out and getting drunk enough to forget Yeonjun probably is what you need right now—but you know you aren't there yet (Even admitting the 'yet'—the knowledge that you eventually will be at that point, whether you like it or not—is painful). Wanting to forget Yeonjun is accepting that what the two of you had is over, and truth be told, you aren't ready to do that. You're fully in denial—and you know it. 

But that doesn't mean you're in the right state of mind to do anything about it. For God's sake, you haven't even been able to go through the photo album of you and Yeonjun on your phone yet and delete a single photo. The scraps of sanity that still call out to you occasionally within your mind tell you that you need to delete those photos of the two of you, that seeing them later will just make you feel worse—but you can't. Any act of cementing the end of the relationship is still just nothing short of unthinkable to you. 

You're very much a prisoner of your own mind for the rest of the semester, whether or not you're willing to admit it, as you continue replaying Yeonjun's last words to you in your head, over and over. And over. And over. And over again. It's unhealthy—you know that. But you don't stop. You can't stop thinking about what you should have done differently to prevent this. Sure, he'd said you hadn't done anything, but that must have been a polite lie. Something must have happened. Had you been overbearing? Annoying? Had you changed, somehow? Had he? 

Your friends and coworkers all tread lightly around you for the first month or so after the breakup, checking on you occasionally and reminding you that everything will be alright eventually (a lie, you know). Beomgyu gives you the notes from your morning class whenever you skip. Kai covers for you when you call out of work. Soobin looks the other way when you take fifteen minute bathroom breaks (which usually end up with you crying in the stall) and doesn't say a word when you come back, eyes puffier than before. 

But that's exhausting to keep up with—you know that. Everyone becomes less forgiving around the middle of the semester—you still haven't gotten over that guy? What's wrong with you? You're still missing class and falling behind on assignments? Why can't you get a grip? No one says this out loud to you, of course, but you can pick up on the subtext—the implications between a shared glance between Beomgyu and Kai at work when you're almost late, between your friends when you tell them you have to finish an essay that was due yesterday—looks that pierce like a dagger to your stomach. Everyone is sick and tired of you.

Well—almost everyone. Kang Taehyun is a different story altogether. 

You fully expected him to behave like everyone else—why wouldn't he? The two of you were friends, and good friends, at that, before your life as you'd known it had imploded in on itself, but you wouldn't have considered him to be a best friend by any means. Maybe you had missed some kind of memo, though—because if the way he's treated you since Yeonjun broke up with you is any indicator, his feelings towards your friendship are not at all what you'd thought they were. 

Not a day goes by that you don't eat at least two meals a day, and that's because Taehyun is checking on you daily to make sure you've eaten. More than once, he's driven over to your house with food from his pantry to ensure there is something in your apartment to eat. He helps you stay on top of your schoolwork, too—hell, the only reason you even remember to do that essay at all is because Taehyun reminds you. And yet, these reminders never feel like a scolding, or like he's judging or chastising you—rather, it just feels like he's looking out for you. He's the only person looking out for you, you think—maybe even more so than yourself. 

Which is why it surprises you, one cold, melancholy November evening as the two of you walk home from class, when Taehyun suggests talking to Yeonjun again. 

Your eyes widen. "What?" 

Taehyun nods, shifting his shoulders as he adjusts his backpack. "Sure. I...I think it would be good for you to get more closure from the whole thing. That's what's keeping you so upset, isn't it? That you don't really get why he did it?" 

You suppose there's an element of truth to that. You certainly don't understand Yeonjun's actions—but the truth of the matter is that you aren't ready to let him go. You weren't three months ago when he called you, and you still aren't now. The ache in your chest that you've felt for so long hasn't subsided in the least—like a knife that only digs deeper every time you remember it's there. 

But you nod anyway. "Yeah, I...I guess that's part of it. But—I can't just text him, Taehyun. What the hell am I supposed to say? 'Hi Yeonjun! Miss you, hope you haven't been feeling the same soul-crushing loneliness that I have for the past three months?'"

Taehyun winces at that before turning to face forward again, gazing at the sidewalk ahead of you with a sigh. "Maybe not quite like that. But...I don't know. He said he wanted to be friends, right? I don't see why you couldn't at least try."

But you don't want to be friends with Yeonjun—that's been the problem. Not just friends. You want to let yourself love him again, to feel that kind of tenderness and contentment and perfect warmth like you've never felt from another person before. 

But that clearly is no longer an option on the table for you. What Taehyun is suggesting, however, might be. Maybe he's right. Something would be better than nothing with Yeonjun. Wouldn't it? 

This conversation is how you find yourself later that night with your phone on your bed in front of you, fingers shaking slightly over the keypad from the nervous weight you feel at the bottom of your stomach. You've already typed out the entire message. You should just send it. 

< hey, did you mean what you said about being friends? 

God, why are you so nervous? It's not like you don't know the man—for Christ's sake, you spent over four years of your life convinced that you knew just about everything there was to know about Yeonjun. You knew about his favorite flowers, the piercings he wanted to get, how comically tremendous his appetite could sometimes be and how he'd always compliment your cooking, regardless of how you felt about it—but maybe none of that had mattered. You hadn't known that he'd felt bored with the relationship. You'd let that knowledge slip past you, somehow. 

You press send on the message before you can talk yourself out of it, turning your phone over and stepping into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping you can think about something, anything else to hide the bubbles of anxiety floating upwards into your chest at the thought that Yeonjun may have responded already. 

You practically leap out of the shower when you're finished, hair still dripping beads of water down your back as you wrap a towel around yourself, making your way back into your bedroom and grabbing for your phone. 

Your eyes widen. 

> yeah, i did. 

> would you be okay with that? 

The anxiety within your chest dissipates like hot water under the sun, if only for a moment. Your Yeonjun, and the effect he still has on you. 

< yeah, i would. 

His reply comes only a few minutes later. 

> okay. cool :) 

> i actually thought about sending this to you the other day. reminded me of you

[link]

Attached is a link to a YouTube video—a piano rendition of a song you'd listened to all the time (and probably forced Yeonjun to listen to in the process) when you'd first begun dating. It sounds beautiful on piano, the melody a bright cascade of hopeful and energetic sounding chords, and you feel your chest tighten with warmth as the video keeps playing. 

It had made him think of you. 

The warmth you'd felt in your chest before suddenly shifts to a suffocating cold. This is probably a bad idea. Yeonjun saying he wants to be friends probably means just that—that he wants to be friends. Nothing else. You, of course, don't feel that way at all, if the way your heart had soared when you saw his message is any indicator. You're just going to get attached again to someone you know doesn't feel the same way about you. You're only setting yourself up for more heartbreak—part of you knows that. 

But you don't stop yourself from playing the video again, butterflies rushing through your stomach. 

~~~

The weeks leading up to winter break are infinitely better than the beginning of the semester. You're comfortably caught up and staying on top of all your assignments. When Soobin assigns you more hours at the library, you don't utter a word of protest. One of your professors even comments on how much better you've done on this last essay than your first of the semester. 

Taehyun seems pleased to see you in better spirits too. He still checks on you just about every day, but there seems to be less urgency in his messages. He's not as concerned as he was a few weeks ago, and you almost feel a twinge of...something at that thought, not quite regret but not quite disappointment, either—but you brush it away just as quickly. 

Thoughts like those are easy to push away now that you're speaking to Yeonjun again. 

If it was one of your other friends in your situation, you think, you'd probably be concerned with how fast they turned around on their ex-boyfriend, going from being completely, utterly heartbroken to gushing over a cute TikTok he'd sent—but you ignore those thoughts when they come, too. Maybe you are making a bad decision by trying to be friends with Yeonjun, but you can't find it in yourself to care enough to stop. This momentary happiness is worlds away from the unbearable heartbreak you'd felt before, even if it is likely temporary. Besides, there haven't been any repercussions of this choice yet, anyway. 

Yet being the key word. 

A few days before fall break, Soobin approaches you, Taehyun, and Kai in the middle of your shared shift, the three of you definitely doing the work he'd assigned to you and definitely not talking behind the counter about a movie you're making plans to go see after your shifts end. 

Soobin clears his throat, and the three of you jump, turning to face him. He lets out a sigh. "Are all three of you going home for break?" 

You all shake your heads no. 

He perks up a bit at that. "Oh. Okay. Good! The library isn't going to be open all week, but we're still doing limited hours. Would any of you be open to working over the break? It'll be time-and-a-half pay."

Kai suddenly grabs for his phone in his back pocket, even though you don't think you heard it buzz. "Huh—look at that. My mom just texted and said she actually does want me to come home for the break now. Sorry!" 

Soobin makes an exasperated frown, but he doesn't say anything else to Kai, turning to you instead. "Y/N?"

You shrug. "Sure, I can work. I'll be here anyway." 

Taehyun suddenly shifts, standing up a little taller beside you. "Me too. I don't mind." 

Soobin nods. "Okay, great. Thanks, you guys. I'll be here the first day, but the other four days it'll be just you two here. So..." he takes in a slow breath. "Don't do anything stupid. Okay?" 

You can practically feel Taehyun fighting back a grin beside you out of the corner of your eye, and you have to bite your tongue to keep a laugh of your own from escaping you at Soobin's remark. "Okay, boss," you say, bringing a hand to your forehead in an overly enthusiastic salute. "We won't." 

Taehyun and Kai both snort at your words, but Soobin just crosses his arms. "I mean it. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, okay? Or...anything I wouldn't let either of you do. You know what I mean." He narrows his eyes. 

But you just laugh. "I promise, Soobin. We'll be fine. It's just limited hours, like you said, right? And it'll be over the break. We'll probably be the only ones in the library the whole week. What could go wrong?" 

His frown only deepens at that. "...I don't even think I want to imagine that," he says before walking away, and the three of you only let out giggles once he's out of earshot. Truthfully, as much as you enjoy teasing Soobin with your other coworkers, you really don't think working over the break will be bad at all. 

And in truth, it isn't the working part that ends up being the problem. It's what happens when you're at work. 

To absolutely no one's surprise, the library is completely, utterly dead over the break. You can count on both hands the number of people that walk in for the first three days as you and Taehyun stand behind the counter, chatting quietly until you run out of things to talk about. By noon on Thursday, the two of you are the only people in the library, scrolling on your phones aimlessly with your shoes propped up against the help desk as the soft scratch of classical music plays over the speakers above you. 

You smile when you see you've gotten a message from Yeonjun, opening your messages to see what he's sent now. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Taehyun giving you a knowing smirk in response to the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth—but you can't hide it. You wouldn't dare, you think. 

It's a video of Yeonjun talking, telling you about a baby that kept waving to him on the plane back from his university. His fall break is the same week as yours, so he's going home today to spend the rest of the weekend with his family. 

You take a quick response video, teasing him about his and the baby's apparent shared brain cells before going back to your mindless scrolling. 

Or—you try to, at least. The moment your Instagram feed refreshes, you find yourself staring, unblinking at the first post on your page. 

It's from Yeonjun's account. It's a picture of him at the airport. And he isn't alone. Standing beside him, arms wrapped around his middle with his around their neck, eyes closed and lips turned upward in a practically radiant smile, is a girl. She looks like she's been caught off guard by Yeonjun, but she's not disappointed about it by any means, if the candid joy radiating from her expression is anything to go by. You glance down at his caption. 

thankful for you. 

There's only one comment so far, which you're assuming is from her. 

SO happy to spend this week with u <3

He might as well have put up a neon sign, you think. You know you can't know for sure, but you almost feel like this was directed at you—the caption, at the very least. Yeonjun has a girlfriend. He's moved on from you, in every sense of the phrase. 

Taehyun must have noticed your suddenly expressionless face, because you see him frown across from you out of the corner of your eye. "Everything alright over there?" 

You extend your arm towards him, showing him your phone screen wordlessly. His eyes widen. "Is that...no fucking way. He has a girlfriend?" 

You nod, that all-too-familiar lump in your throat making its presence known once again. "Yeah," you reply, avoiding his stunned gaze. "I guess so." 

Taehyun doesn't look away from you, even after you draw your arm back into your lap. "Y/N," he starts, quietly. Speaking to you the way you'd speak to a wounded animal—gently, but as if you could practically explode at any moment. It almost makes you feel worse. "Are you..." he stops, trailing off before he can even finish the thought before shaking his head. "Do you want to take a break for a minute?" He gestures with his head towards the punch clock on the wall behind the two of you. 

But you shake your head. "No, I...I don't think so," you say. As strange as it seems, you don't feel nearly as upset as you did when Yeonjun had called to break up with you. Seeing that he's already moved on feels like ripping a metaphorical band-aid off. In a way, you sort of needed to see that he's moved on—that your hopes that the two of you could get back together, somehow, were foolish. Maybe this neon sign of an Instagram post is exactly what you needed. 

Taehyun, however, doesn't seem entirely convinced, frown only deepening at your words. "Are you sure? We can get out of here, you know. It's just us in here right now." 

You shake your head again. "No. We've still got nearly another hour—I don't think Soobin would be very happy if he found out we closed the library early just because I flipped out over Yeonjun again," you say, laughing weakly. 

He snaps his fingers at you. "So you admit it! You are flipping out!" 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. "That is not what I—"

But Taehyun is already taking off his nametag, placing it under the counter and grabbing the keys for the front door. He turns around once he's within a few feet of the front door, gazing at you expectantly. "Well? Come on." 

You gesture with your arm at the library before you. "Taehyun, you've got to be joking. We cannot just get up and leave. What if someone needs to come study?" 

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You think someone's going to need to come study? Over fall break? The day of the holiday? Not a chance."

"How are we going to punch out then, smart guy?" you ask indignantly. 

But Taehyun just shrugs. "I'll just tell Soobin tomorrow that we both forgot, and he'll have to enter our punch-out times manually. Shouldn't be a big deal." 

But you narrow your eyes at him. "'Shouldn't be a big deal?' You seriously think Soobin won't find it a bit suspicious that we both just happened to forget to punch out as we were leaving?" 

"Not really. Look..." he says, starting softer this time. "If something happens, I'll take the fall for it. Alright? You need to get out of here." 

You take another glance at the empty, quiet library. It's only an hour early. Maybe Soobin won't find out, somehow, by some miraculous stroke of luck that you know you don't exactly tend to have—but that lump in your throat hasn't gone away since you saw the picture of Yeonjun. So you nod. "Okay," you say, pulling your nametag off and sliding it under the desk beside Taehyun's, an action that wins you a growing smile on the man's face. "Let's get out of here, then." 

You follow him out of the library, watching him lock the door and swallowing the momentary twinge of guilt at his actions. 

Taehyun seems to read your mind, though. He looks up at you once the doors are locked. "Don't chicken out on me now. Okay? I promise. We'll be okay." 

You nod wordlessly. "Let's just get out of here, then." 

He smiles at you—that big ear-to-ear grin that causes nearly all of your worries to dissipate at just the sight. "That's the spirit. Come on. Are you up for going for a drive?" 

"Sure," you say, nodding. Anywhere is better than being here, slowly falling into the trap of your own thoughts that you thought you'd narrowly escaped a month ago. 

So you get in Taehyun's car once again, gazing out the window at the sun slowly lowering against the horizon, oranges and pinks spreading across the sky as if they were deliberate brush strokes from some invisible hands—just as beautiful as those paintings you and Yeonjun had gazed at that day you both whispered your mutual confessions to each other. 

You shove that thought away just as Taehyun parks the car, and you look out the windshield to see where you are. You're at the top of a tall hill, trees around you on all sides as you gaze down at the college town before you. It looks so small from this distance, you think. 

"I've never been here before," you say, turning to look at Taehyun. "I didn't even know this place existed." 

He nods, still looking at the city below the two of you. "Beomgyu took me here once after a really bad shift. Got yelled at by some grad student for not having an extra copy of a textbook for them to loan when they had an exam tomorrow—you know the drill. It's a good spot to clear your head, I think."

You find that you'd have to agree the longer you stare down at the city, thinking about the perspective it affords you. 

"We don't live in a huge college town, compared to some others, but there's still so, so many people down there. You know?" Taehyun says, as if he's reading your thoughts. Again. How is he so good at that? "I don't want you to ever think one person is the only person you could ever be with. That he's the only chance you'll ever get at love—that just can't be possible." 

You know what he means. You even think it's true—you know it is, logically. But that doesn't mean this lingering heartbreak aching in your chest, in your lungs, in your veins, hurts any less. "Damn you, Kang Taehyun," you say quietly. "You make too much sense." 

He laughs at that, finally tearing his gaze away from the city before him and turning to face you. 

But you aren't finished, taking a deep breath before you continue. "I should've never let myself care about someone this much. This—this whole thing," you say, waving your arm in front of you in a vague gesture, "is just so stupid."

He frowns at that. "No," Taehyun says, shaking his head. "This isn't stupid. You're not stupid." 

You shake your head right back. "I let being Yeonjun's partner be my most important trait. It was all I cared about—he was all I cared about. I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have put him on such a pedestal like that." 

Taehyun mulls your words over for a moment. "Maybe," he says. "But I don't think you should be mad at yourself for loving him. There's nothing wrong with that. And I think you've learned and grown through the relationship—you'll probably be a better partner in the next one you're in, too." 

That thought still stings—of another relationship, of giving up completely on Yeonjun. Even though he's obviously given up on you. "I just don't know what I did wrong. I have to have done something—a relationship doesn't just end like that. Does it?" Yeonjun had been so many of your firsts—and now, he was the first person to ever break up with you. You'd always been the one in charge of that in the brief relationships you'd had before him, the ones that hadn't left nearly the kind of impact Yeonjun had had on you. 

Taehyun shrugs lightly. "I don't have that much experience, but I can tell you that sometimes that is exactly what happens. People really can fall out of love—of course, that's because of their own feelings. Not usually anything to do with the other person," he adds quickly. "If anything, it says how much more equipped you are to handle a long-term, long-distance relationship than he is. You're the mature one. He's not." 

"Clearly not," you scoff. "I'm still the one crying over him, and he's already moved on. Sounds like he's more mature than I am." 

"That I disagree with," Taehyun counters immediately. "The fact that it's still upsetting you means that the relationship meant something different to you than it did to him—he must not have taken it as seriously as you. And that's his fault." 

You're quiet for a moment after that. The sun has almost completely set now, dusk enveloping the college town before you as the city lights begin to twinkle in the dark. But you still find yourself ruminating. The hollowness you feel now is almost scarier than the heartbreak—you aren't even that sad anymore. Just empty. And you tell Taehyun this. "It still scares me—feeling like I don't know who I am now. I feel like I built up an entire imaginary future with him—and now I don't know what to expect of anything anymore." 

Taehyun takes a breath as he nods. "I know," he says gently. "But the future is always like that. You know? Nothing's ever guaranteed, no matter how much we cling to the things we care about. Still—I want you to know that you're so, so much more than being someone's partner. I think you're incredibly clever, and funny, and smart, and beautiful—don't you dare look at me like that, Y/N," he says, only somewhat teasingly as you raise your eyebrows at that last addition. "I'm serious. It's okay to care about someone, but I want you to know that you are still worth so, so much as your own person. Regardless of whether you're with someone or not."

You wish you had better words to say to Taehyun—poetic, soft words to thank him in the same way that he's comforting you. Instead, you let the silence speak for you, losing yourself to the soft hum of Taehyun's radio and the glittering stars that have finally come out in the sky. It's a comfortable silence, though—and you feel those knots of worry and heartbreak at the pit of your stomach slowly start to untangle themselves. Just a little—but they do nonetheless. 

It's long past nightfall when Taehyun finally drives you home, telling you goodnight and looking like there's more that he wants to say, even as he drives away—but you find yourself content in the moment anyway, even when you get ready for bed and slip under your covers.

But that doesn't mean the pain has gone away entirely. 

Taehyun had told you to call him if you started feeling down about the whole situation, but when you wake up in the morning and feel that familiar heavy sorrow in your chest, you don't tell Taehyun a thing. Instead, you let yourself lie on your side and bring your knees up to your chest and weep, burying your face in the pillowcase until it's practically soaked through from your tears. You let yourself cry for yourself—for the version of you who has died, for the Yeonjun you had loved for so long and with such intensity, and for you now who will never again be the person you were before. 

It would be different if the two of you had ended things dramatically, you think—if Yeonjun had cheated on you, or if you had been an unsupportive partner—but none of those things happened. It just ended. And he has already moved on, the way you imagine a normal person does. 

Somehow, you think, that still makes it worse. 

But you think back on what Taehyun had said to you last night, even as you brush away the tears staining your cheeks. Choi Yeonjun is not the only person in the world—it doesn't make sense to think of him as the only person who could ever love you. Yes, your relationship coming to an end still hurts like nothing you've ever experienced before—but already you can feel that ache subsiding, even if those moments are few and far between. Yeonjun had fully severed what was left of the two of you, but it now feels to you like it was necessary. Like it was something you needed—the beginning of a new path for you. 

~~~

The rest of the semester goes by in a blur after fall break. You're so caught up in the mess of finals and work that you barely have time to think about anything else, let alone what's left of your feelings towards Yeonjun. 

If Soobin knows about you and Taehyun closing early and conveniently forgetting to punch out, he never says a word—but you do work considerably more hours than usual in the weeks leading up to your final exams. Soobin says it's the busiest time of the year for the library, so he needs all hands on deck to help all the students coming in and out. Which you do believe—but you still have a sneaky feeling that you and Taehyun are working more than Beomgyu and Kai. 

You wonder if your professors are all in some kind of secret conspiracy to make their students suffer as much as possible, since all five of your exams are stacked over the course of three days. You survive, even after pulling an all-nighter to prepare, which does mean that you should be able to relax at the end of the week while your other coworkers are still cramming. On Friday, though Beomgyu and Kai still have one last final, which is why you and Taehyun both find yourselves working a double to cover for them while they take their exams. It's a long shift, full of snappy students and an exhausted Soobin—by the time 10 p.m. finally rolls around, you feel yourself on the verge of collapsing as you clock out with Taehyun. 

Your favorite coworker raises an eyebrow at your exhausted state. "You alright?" he asks, tapping at his shirt collar before extending a hand to you. 

Your nametag. Christ, you'd almost forgotten. You sigh, nodding as you slip your nametag off of your shirt before placing it in Taehyun's waiting palm, who then moves to slide it under the front counter with his and your other coworkers' tags. "You mean you don't feel like you're about to pass out after that? I thought today would never end."

He laughs a little as the two of you walk towards the front door. "Sure I do. But you saw what Kai sent in the work chat, right? He and Beomgyu are going out later tonight now that they're done with finals. Of course, I'm not sure if that means they feel like they did good or bad, to be honest—but I guess we'll know when we get there. I told them I'd meet them once we were done with work."

You laugh too, pulling your car keys out of your pocket now that you're only a few feet from your respective vehicles. "Yeah, I saw it. But you guys can go ahead—I think I need to turn in early tonight. I'll see you all after the break, okay?" 

The look on Taehyun's face fades a little, and he stops walking right in front of your cars. "Are you sure? It might be fun—you know how funny Beomgyu gets." 

You stop walking too, standing beside him. The thought of tipsy Beomgyu does bring back fond memories of work parties past—the occasion where he tried to convince everyone to jump into a pool, fully clothed, at the house party where you all barely knew the owner was a particularly fun one—but you don't feel up for it tonight. So you shake your head. "No—I'm too tired, Taehyun. But you all have fun, seriously. Just be safe, alright?" You wink at him teasingly. 

But he doesn't return the gesture. Rather, an unusual look washes over his face—an expression of determination that you aren't sure you've ever seen from him before. "You're going home tomorrow, right?" he asks suddenly. 

You nod. "Yeah, I'm spending the break with my parents. Why?" 

Taehyun visibly swallows before he opens his mouth again to speak. You feel a sudden uneasiness develop in the pit of your stomach just before you hear him say "I'm telling you now, then. I like you, Y/N." Suddenly. Just the way Yeonjun had in that art museum all those years ago. 

The two of you are outside, but you suddenly feel like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the parking lot you're standing in. You blink. "What?" 

He nods, gaze unwavering from yours. "I like you." 

He's joking. He has to be. Either that, or you really did pass out in the library earlier, and this is all some kind of dream. "...You like me," you repeat, slowly. A short laugh escapes you before you can stop yourself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he says. "I know this is a pretty terrible time to tell you this, but—"

"Yes," you say, practically unable to believe what you're hearing. "Yes, Taehyun, this is a terrible time to tell me—God, why would you tell me this?" 

"Because it's true," he replies almost instantly. "And I'm not telling you because I want you to say the same thing. You don't have to say anything, actually, I...I just wanted you to know." 

Your heart sinks to your chest at that. "So, you...you'd confess to someone who you know won't reciprocate? Why?" 

Taehyun shakes his head. "I'm not telling you because I want anything to happen. Not right now, anyway—I'm not that stupid. I think." He tries to laugh, but the sound doesn't quite come out right. "I just want you to know, in case you ever feel the same way." 

In case you ever feel the same way. He doesn't think you like him back. Hell—do you? The thought of romance has been so banned from your mind for the last several months that you haven't even entertained the notion, whether it was Taehyun or anyone else in the world—but you think about that. You think about the way those feelings of tight anxiety in your chest loosen when you see that you're scheduled to work with him, how your heart beats faster when you get a notification on your phone from him—not to mention that evening you'd spent in his car on the hilltop overlooking the city. Those feelings of warmth that ignite within you every time you'd looked over at him that night probably were feelings of attraction. You just haven't been able to even entertain this thought, of liking someone else, in ages. You almost can't ever remember when—and that frightens you. "I...I think I do feel that way, though," you say. "I care about you, Taehyun. So, so much. You've been the only person I could depend on for the last three months, but...but I think you deserve better than this. God, you should know better than anyone that I'm nowhere near being over Yeonjun. That I'm in no state to even think about dating someone right now." You laugh, tone dripping with self-deprecation. "I'm a mess. I barely even remember what those feelings are even like. You have to know that anything I do in this mental state now would just be a rebound, even if I didn't want it to be, and I...I don't want to do that to you." 

Taehyun nods quickly, taking a step closer. "You're not a mess. But I do know how you feel—which is why I wanted to tell you. You don't have to do anything about it now if you don't want to," he says again. "I just wanted you to know." 

You shake your head, surprised to feel sudden tears of frustration brimming at the corners of your eyes. "God...Taehyun, please don't do this to me," you whisper, holding back a sniff. He's close enough to you that he can hear, even at this volume. "I don't want to lose you too." Things will never be the same between the two of you—you know this as well as you know your own name. No matter how much the two of you try to awkwardly dance around each other from now on, you'll never forget that you had this conversation. You can never go back to just being friends. 

But Taehyun shakes his head fervently. "You won't lose me," he says, voice unwavering before he makes a slight move to reach for your hand out of instinct before stopping himself. "Not if you don't want to. I'll stick around for as long as you want me to." 

You grab his hand anyway, even as he looks up at you in shock. "So...what? You'd wait for me?" you say, laughing quietly. "I can't ask that of you. That isn't fair to you." 

He just shakes his head again. "If you want me to, I will. I'll wait as long as you need me to—I'm telling you, I don't mind."

You scoff a little at that before you can stop yourself. "You say that now, but I...I have no idea when I'll feel ready to think about being with anyone again. I'm sorry, Taehyun—but I don't know how long this could take. You know? I mean, I'd hope it wouldn't be years," you say, laughing hollowly, "but I just have no idea. And I just don't understand why you would do this—wait for me. I mean...look at you," you say, laughing nervously as you gesture vaguely towards his figure. You haven't thought about him in that way before—or maybe you haven't let yourself think of him in that way, you realize now—but you can't ignore the sharp lines of his jaw, the clearly defined strength beneath his sweater—Taehyun is beautiful. There could never be any denying it. "You're perfect, Taehyun. You could have anyone you wanted—certainly someone less fucked up than me. Someone you wouldn't have to wait to be with, I—"

But he just shakes his head. "I most certainly am not perfect—but I just want to see you happy," he replies, voice as calm and steady as ever. You wonder if this is how he imagined this conversation going. "Whether that's with me, or someone else, or on your own—that's okay. And I...you know now. I'd like for it to be with me, if that's possible," he adds, laughing a little, "but if it's not, that's okay too. You just deserve to be happy, and I want to see that happen for you." 

You let his words hang in the air between the two of you for a long, long time. The only sound in the entire parking lot is the occasional soft jangling of your keys when a gust of wind passes by. 

He'd wait for you. 

"...I really don't know how long it will be until I can think about this," you say again, breaking the momentary silence. 

But Taehyun just nods, gently squeezing your hand. You'd almost forgotten your fingers were still interlaced with his. "I'm telling you, that's okay. I'll wait as long as you want until you want to talk about this again—and if you don't want it to go any further, it doesn't have to. I just...just wanted you to know how I felt, regardless." 

You nod. Before you can say anything else, though, Taehyun's phone rings from his back pocket, loudly interrupting the two of you in the otherwise empty parking lot. 

He turns slightly to glance down at it, and makes a face when he sees who it's from. "It’s Kai," he says softly. "They must be wondering where I am."

"Go ahead," you say just as quietly, gesturing with your free hand towards his car. "It's okay. I...I need to think, anyway." 

Taehyun keeps his gaze on you for a moment, mind clearly racing through a thousand different responses as he sets his mouth in a worried line—but eventually he nods. "Okay," he says, finally letting go of your hand. "I...I'll see you after break, then."

You nod wordlessly. 

His words still echo in your mind, even as he gets in his car and offers a small wave your way. 

He'd wait for you. It's more than you could ever ask for. At the same time, however, you realize that it's an admission to yourself—admitting that getting over Yeonjun is still going to be a long, difficult path to walk. 

And when you're finally left in the parking lot by yourself, you find that you feel more alone than you have in a long, long time. 

~~~

The winter holidays go by at a snail's pace. All you want to do is sleep off the fresh heartache your conversation with Taehyun has caused and do practically nothing all break—but you find yourself hilariously bored on your fourth day of doing "nothing." 

Your parents are uncharacteristically lenient of your behavior—they used to never let you sleep in this late, especially if you were home from school after not seeing you for so long—but you know they know about you and Yeonjun breaking up. Your mother had been particularly fond of him, too. Maybe that's why she doesn't say a word when you go to bed early every night. 

It's ridiculously hard to keep your mind off of Yeonjun over the holidays—couples are everywhere. Nearly every holiday movie seems to revolve around a romance, not to mention all the ones in real life that you can't stop seeing. Your friends post about spending the week with their partner's families, about seeing the other's hometown for the first time, of a surprise and sudden engagement from one of your cousins and their long-time girlfriend—it's enough to make you sick. You know that's a horrible thing to think at such happy occasions for the people you know, but the thought forms itself anyway. 

Every time you feel like you've taken a step forward towards healing, towards finally, finally getting over him—you see something that sends you reeling back into that heartache and sorrow, sending you ten steps back from where you'd been. It's a vicious cycle, and as much as you beg for it to end—it doesn't. Not yet. 

Because Yeonjun haunts you in your home, too. It's hard to set up decorations with your parents without thinking about how you did this last year with him—how he had held onto your waist as he reached around you into the box of tinsel, how your mother had beamed at him as he'd helped her cook, how angelic he had looked as the two of you walked around your neighborhood looking at the different lights each house had set up. They were such beautiful memories, at the time—had only made you feel more confident and cemented in your relationship with Yeonjun as each one passed. You'd hadn't ever imagined a future without him. And now you can't help but wonder if he had already felt dissatisfied with you in each of those moments. 

But as unrelenting as those memories are, so is the passing of time—because you survive the winter holiday season, somehow, even with your shattered heart. Your plan is to move back into school right after the new year, which is how you end up at home on New Year's Eve. Your parents have already gone to their rooms to sleep by the time eleven o'clock strikes on the clock, and as hard as you try, you can't help but think about the fact that this is your first New Year's Eve in years that you'll be alone for. 

Or so you think, anyway. The instant you see your phone screen display 12:01 A.M., it buzzes. It's a message from Taehyun. 

> happy new year, y/n

The new year. 

Everything has hurt so badly for months—like a wound that refuses to form a scab, because you won't let it. You're the one who won't put the bandage over the cut, who keeps digging the blade into the metaphorical wound that was you and Yeonjun every time you think about him. 

But what's the alternative? Moving on? Accepting that your relationship with Yeonjun is over? That what had been the happiest years of your life up until now are through? It's unthinkable. It's unfair to that version of you who had loved him with all of your heart to just throw them away—to just lock the door and never look back. 

But it's what you have to do, you realize. You won't ever feel any better until you can accept that you and Yeonjun are done, for good—and Taehyun is offering you a way out. This is the ending of what you've known up until now—but a chance to finally, finally start anew. To put the past behind you and try again. 

< happy new year, taehyun.

IV. SPRING.

The spring semester hardly gives you a moment to breathe. 

You vaguely remember signing up for classes right before fall break—but those weeks were such a blur that you neglected to realize this spring would be your first semester in upper division courses. In other words—you're drowning in schoolwork with scarcely an instant to yourself, let alone to sort out your lingering feelings. 

And in the moments that you do have time to breathe, Yeonjun always seems to find a way to sneak to the forefront of your mind. But these recollections aren't always as painful as they were before. In one instance, you feel a wave of relief wash over you—but only for the single instant that it provides you comfort—when you remember turning down Yeonjun's offer to buy each other promise rings before he'd first left for college. 

He'd pointed at them in a jewelry store the two of you had wandered into while walking downtown together. "What do you think?" he'd asked, winking. 

You'd laughed. "Yeah, right. I hear getting engaged right after high school never ends up going badly for anyone." 

But he'd shaken his head immediately. "Not engaged," he'd corrected gently. "They're promise rings. It's a promise to you, from me. And from you to me—that we'll wait for each other, and only each other, until we're both ready. No matter what happens." 

Your heart had fluttered at the sudden declaration, cheeks flushing pink before you could stop them—but you had thought even then that it seemed like an awfully rash thing to commit to for a relationship of barely over a year. "That's...unbelievably romantic, Jjun," you'd admitted. "Even for you. Have you done something?" you'd teased, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He'd gasped, putting his hands above his head in mock surrender. "I most certainly have not. Can't I just be a hopeless romantic every once in a while?" 

You'd pretended to mull it over. "Hmm. Maybe on special occasions. We'll have to see if we can work out a schedule for your hopeless romantic tendencies in the future." 

Yeonjun had then made a show of wiping pretend sweat from his brow. "Thank goodness." 

You'd giggled, despite yourself. "I'm serious, though. It's a beautiful thought, but...do you think it's something we could come back to? At a later time?" 

Ever the gentleman, your Yeonjun had nodded sweetly at you. "Of course," he'd said, taking your hand in his before leading the two of you back out of the store. "We can talk about the future whenever you're ready. I'm just as happy in our present right now, anyway." 

That had certainly changed somewhere along the way, you think bitterly to yourself. But pushing past this memory still feels like a small victory, in a way. You hadn't wasted money on committing to a promise that Yeonjun had broken.

There are countless more memories that resurface in this way—but by the time they pass, you no longer taste that metaphorical blood in your mouth anymore at their recollection, no longer feel your heart yearning for them to stay the way you would have a few months ago. They just pass, and you don't think about them again after they go.

Yeonjun only texts you once. You haven't sent him a single message since his Instagram post before fall break—and of course, you imagine he knows why. You may not have expected him to break up with you when he did, but you did know him ridiculously well at one point, seemingly both inside and out—you know that he knows you well enough, too, to understand why you've suddenly gone radio silent. But he does text you once, right as the first week of your semester finishes.

> hey. is everything okay? do you want to talk? 

Months ago, you think, you would have leapt at the opportunity—jumped through the screen and across space and time, practically, to have a chance to talk to him for an extended period of time, for a possible chance to win him back. Now you just feel embarrassment towards yourself for ever having felt that way. 

You never respond.

Taehyun's presence in your life is different now, too. You still work together, of course, but you have several shared classes again—so you find yourself studying and comparing essays at either his apartment or yours nearly three or four times each week. It's challenging, all of it, but in between, it does make you remember why you became friends with Taehyun in the first place—because he's not like anyone else you've ever known before. Every time you want to throw in the towel on a particularly lengthy assignment, he has some witty comment that gives you just enough energy to keep going. Every time you come by his apartment, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles upon seeing you sends a surge of warmth through you. If you have felt trapped in frigid ice since this breakup, Taehyun has been your sun, ever so gradually melting that ice away whenever you let him. 

And you do let him. One night, you're leaving his apartment after exchanging study guides for one of your midterms. You walk by his side, car keys swinging softly in between your fingers. 

"How are you feeling?" Taehyun asks right before you open your car door. He doesn't elaborate, but you know what he's talking about. 

So you turn to him. "I, um...I don't know if this will get better," you admit quietly. It's a fear you've harbored from the start—that you'll never get over Yeonjun, your first and last—that he will have created your perception of love, molded and shaped it to his design and his alone before shattering it, leaving you to pick up the pieces for the rest of your life. 

But Taehyun lets out a scoff at that. "It will. I promise, Y/N. It does get better." 

You narrow your eyes at him. "How do you know that? Hmm? Are you some secret fortune teller that I don't know about? Is that how you've been able to afford such a nice apartment here?"

He laughs at you. "No. I'm not a fortune teller. But I know this much—it'll get better. I can't tell you when, because I don't know that. It's something you'll have to figure out, I think. But one day, soon, you'll wake up one morning, and it'll hurt less. And then, a little later, it won't hurt at all. It'll feel like it was a bad dream. You'll get involved in other things, other interests, other people, and then you won't think of this when you wake up in the morning at all." 

You nod, slowly. "I want to believe you, Taehyun. I do. I just don't know how long that will take." 

But he just shrugs again. Damn him for being so easygoing. "That's okay. You know where I'll be, regardless."

You do know where he'll be—right by your side, just like he's been for the last six months. In truth, you had expected him to fall back on his promise to wait—you would have been sad, sure, but you wouldn't have blamed him. Putting up with you moving on from a relationship over the course of half a year, now, can't have been an easy task. But you've never heard a word of complaint from him. He isn't that kind of person—you know this now. He really will stick by you for as long as you'll allow him to—a kind of affection you haven't felt from anyone in a long, long time. 

But right beside you isn't the only place Taehyun seems to be. Your subconscious seems to have taken a liking to him, too—because that night, you see him in your dreams. You'd tossed and turned earlier, unable to fall asleep, throwing the sheets off the bed before you curl up into a ball and squeeze your eyes shut. When you finally find yourself lured back into sleep, you find Taehyun—strong and sweet and caring and beautiful Taehyun. He wraps his arms around you in the dream, hands grabbing hold of your waist before he presses his lips to yours in a heated kiss—as if he never wants to let you go. As if there isn't anyone else in the world that matters except for the two of you. 

You wake up in the morning and weep. 

Later in the day, you find tears brimming at the corners of your eyes again when you finally find the courage to delete the photo album on your phone of you and Yeonjun—but they never fall past your lashes, even when you hit the red delete button. 

Perhaps you've run out of tears for him, because none fall when you package away everything else of his in your apartment—every framed photo of the two of you, every stuffed animal he'd bought, every hoodie of his you'd once promised to give back all fit neatly in a single cardboard box, sealed and never to be seen again. 

Without the remnants of Yeonjun scattered throughout your apartment, you find yourself thinking of him less with each day that passes. The ghost who had once haunted every fiber of your being now seems like little more than a bad dream you've suddenly woken up from. This realization hurts you, just like the ones before it—but the hurt doesn't linger. It, too, grows faint before long, dissipated and fading away just like the rest of your relationship. 

The end of the semester doesn't sneak up on you this spring. You have a lengthy presentation for your hardest class, an argumentative speech that you've practically spent all semester preparing for. You and Taehyun practice for each other for weeks beforehand, critiquing and encouraging and teasing each other the whole way through—but it's still over before you know it. 

The morning after your final presentation, you don't wake up until the sun has risen high in the sky, peeking through the blinds over your window and finally raising you from sleep. You stretch as you walk over to the window, opening the blinds and peering out into the street below you. There's a couple walking on the sidewalk—and you recognize the girl as a regular from the library, the one with strawberry-colored hair whom Kai had been practically obsessed with back in the fall. 

She tugs at the sleeve of the man walking beside her, pulling him into a sudden kiss, and you instantly turn away from the window, giving them a moment of privacy despite their actions being in public anyway. 

Well—she obviously hadn't known about Kai's existence, but she'd still clearly been able to find some kind of happiness. The thought soothes you, in a way, and you think about how the scene below you would have made you feel six months ago. You would've been jealous, probably, and upset that you'd never experience anything like that again—but now the only thing it fills you with is longing. It makes you happy to see others experience something that you know feels like a gift. You want to experience that again too, you realize. 

The instant that thought forms in your head, another memory materializes. 

That's okay. You know where I'll be, regardless. 

You feel your heart soar at the recollection. 

Yes, Taehyun. I do.

V. SUMMER. 

Taehyun texts you the very first day summer break begins. 

> how'd your last final go? 

> omg i meant to tell you after work yesterday but kai's parents said he could stay in the beach house this weekend 

> like a very early birthday thing i think lol. it'll be a few ppl but you're more than welcome to come tomorrow if you haven't gone back home yet 

The invite sends a flurry of both excitement and nervousness through you. You haven't gone back home yet—your parents aren't coming until early next week to help you move out for the summer, not to mention the fact that you haven't see Taehyun or any of your other coworkers since the end of finals week. Excited doesn't even begin to cover it, you think. 

< i'll be there! 

Kai, thankfully, is a relatively easy person to shop for—you have no trouble at all picking up a wristwatch you remember him talking about a few times at work. And in truth, his birthday isn't for another two months, but you imagine he needed some excuse to convince his parents to let him throw an end-of-the-school-year party—so you don't mind the expense at all.

Kai is overjoyed to see you when you arrive at the beach house, thanks to Taehyun sending you the address, and even more so when he sees the gift bag in your hands. 

"You did not have to get me anything!" he exclaims, pouting, but you still see that glint of anticipation in his eyes despite his words. 

You beam at him, throwing your arms around him in a quick hug. You've missed this—being with your friends and not feeling like you were putting them through hell with you. Seeing them happy with you feels right in a way that nothing else has in months. "Happy birthday, Kai," you say, pulling back so he can tear into his present (which he does almost immediately). 

Taehyun is waving at you from the shallow end of the pool. "Did you bring a swimsuit?" you hear him call over Kai's shouts of excitement. 

You nod, biting back a grin as you pull your shirt over your head and tug your shorts off as quickly as possible, revealing the bathing suit that you'd worn on your way over underneath. You immediately run to jump in the deep end, splashing both Taehyun and Beomgyu, if the yells and laughs you hear when you resurface are any indicator. 

Beomgyu makes some excuse about needing to find the birthday cake, hauling himself up and out from the side of the pool when you start to swim over towards Taehyun.  

He doesn't budge, grinning at you as you make your way towards the shallow end. "Nice of you to make an appearance," he says, winking. 

"Well, I had to let you know I was here somehow, you know," you reply instantly, grinning right back. 

Taehyun's smirk widens. "Of course. And I'm glad you're here, Y/N. How'd you end up doing for your finals?" 

You shrug. "A’s and B’s. I'm still pretty satisfied with how that presentation for Dr. Lee went, though—how about you?" 

He pushes your shoulder playfully. "Look at you! I told you you'd kill that speech. I knew you could do it." 

You feel the ghost of his hand on your skin even after it's gone, shivers rippling down your spine at the thought—and that does it. You can't keep up the small talk any longer. "I have something for you," you announce, as stone-faced as you can manage. "Close your eyes." 

Something flickers in his eyes—surprise? delight, even?—but it's gone just as soon as you notice it. "For me?" He laughs. "But it's Kai's birthday party." 

You nod. "I know," you say. "I already gave him his present. You get one too." 

Taehyun's eyes narrow. "Am I getting the same thing as Kai?" 

You can't bite back the grin that tugs at your lips. "Not even close." 

He seems satisfied with that, finally, so he closes his eyes. You know you'll only get one chance to do this, to do it right with the element of surprise—so you lean in as quickly as you can, before the logical side of your brain can catch up with the rest of you, and press your lips to the side of his cheek. 

Taehyun looks at you, eyes wide open with surprise, until—"You missed." 

You frown. "I what?" 

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Mmm-hmm. You missed." There's only a split second for you to realize what he means before he's taken hold of your chin with two of his fingers and brought your lips to his. He's kissing you. 

Taehyun is kissing you. 

There are no fireworks or cannons shooting above your head, no angel floating down from the heavens to confirm that this moment has been the peak of your entire life—but kissing Taehyun is soft. Gentle. It's all the comfort he always makes you feel, has always made you feel—nothing feels more right than being pressed up against him here, with one hand cradling your chin and one settled securely on your hip as his lips move against yours.  

There still aren't fireworks or cannons shooting off behind you—but what you do hear are loud whoops and cheers from your coworkers (and maybe a few fake retching noises). Taehyun pulls back a little once he hears those, dark eyes scanning your face for any signs of discomfort—but there are none. Instead, you laugh, and Taehyun does too, breath skating across your jaw as you feel more right than you have in an achingly long time. When he presses his lips to yours again, still smiling against the kiss, you feel that sensation of right, of warmth, of comfort practically coursing through your veins as you slide your arms around his neck. This, right here, is where you're supposed to be. 

“You waited,” you manage to breathe out in between kisses, holding tighter to Taehyun’s shoulders above the water to steady yourself.

He smiles at you, beaming brighter and warmer than the summer sun above the two of you. “Yes, Y/N,” he whispers softly, moving his hand to cup your cheek in his palm. “And I’d do it again if it meant we would still end up right here.”

It's not the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another—life is hardly ever that smooth. It just is. 

You don't know the kind of partner Taehyun is yet. You don't know that he'll almost always keep a hand on your thigh when you sit together, that he'll write a list in the notes app of his phone of your orders at each of your favorite restaurants, that he'll love to take candid photos of you to show you later, that one day the two of you will be in a very similar position to the way you are now while a small black box holds a hefty weight in his back pocket—but you don't have to know any of that yet. 

You're here with Taehyun, now, your arms around him as his wrap around you, and that's what matters. The rest you can figure out together.

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

©️ noramoons 2021-2022. do not translate or reupload my writing.

[ghostofskywalker]

Workplaces Are Not For Kissing

Peggy Carter/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 15 of 31

Words: 1,149

Summary: A bout of jealousy (and some meddling from Daniel) finally pushes Peggy to make a move on you, who she's been (not so) secretly pining for. 

Peggy Carter Masterlist

Peggy watched through the slats in the blinds of the chief’s office as you spoke to one of the agents in the bullpen, and he was obviously flirting with you. It didn’t seem like you were showing any interest back, but she still didn’t like the sight. But even if you were flirting with Agent Wilner, it wouldn’t matter, because you and Peggy weren’t together.

She could feel her jaw tighten as the agent slipped you a piece of paper, clearly with his phone number on it, and she didn’t even notice the door open. “You’re staring at Y/N again.” A pink tinge crossed her cheeks as she looked up to see Daniel standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

She straightened her posture, trying not to let her embarrassment show. “I’m not.”

“Sure Peggy, and my name is Jack Thompson,” Daniel said as he stepped further into the room and closed the door. “You know that if you just asked her out, you wouldn’t have to stare at her all the time like that.”

“I know,” she said, finally tearing her eyes away from you in the bullpen. “But-”

“But what?” Daniel cut him off. “It’s not like she works at the SSR, even though she’s here pretty often. And I happen to know for a fact that despite the fact that she’s his personal assistant, she has no interest in Howard.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but didn’t get a chance to before the door opened once more, and you walked in. “I have some files that Howard asked me to give to you guys,” you said. “I was going to just file them myself so I didn’t bother anyone, but Agent Wilner informed me I couldn’t do that.”

“Peggy can help you with those!” Daniel said brightly, and Peggy shot him a glare that (thankfully) you didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh I don’t want to be a bother,” you said. “I can also come back if this isn’t a good time.”

“Don’t worry, now is the perfect time,” Daniel said, a smile on his face that Peggy wanted to make disappear. He was being way too obvious, and soon you were going to start asking questions if he didn’t tone it down.

You smiled, stepping back outside the office to collect the stacks of paperwork that had been left on a table, and Peggy turned back to Daniel. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“And you’re so lovesick. I’m just trying to help,” he said, and she just playfully rolled her eyes in response. She knew his intentions were pure, she just wanted to not rush things with you. And yeah, maybe she was a little nervous about actually acting on her feelings. People around her sometimes found themselves in situations that were dangerous and even fatal, and in no way did she want to potentially put you in that kind of trouble.

Peggy stepped back out into the bullpen and took half of the files from your arms. The two of you fell into step beside each other as you made your way to the back of the office. The setup of the LA office was a little different than it had been in New York, and their collection of older files was a little farther away. The files in your arms were full of information about Howard’s brush with the law (and the thankfully avoided mass destruction) that took place last year, and it would be joining all of the other information the SSR had obtained about the incident, which now was up to three boxes. Since Howard moved out to LA, all files regarding him and that incident were moved to the LA SSR, and the collection was still growing.

The file room’s shelves were full of perfectly labeled boxes sitting on them, some collecting more dust than others. The actual putting away of the files took almost no time at all, and soon an awkward silence had blanketed the small space as the two of you worked on putting the boxes back where they had previously been.

And that silence only grew when her hand brushed yours, before you pulled it away. “I’m sorry,” she heard you say, likely because you thought you had gotten too close to Peggy.

“Don’t be,” Peggy said, hoping that she didn’t look nervous either. “This is a small space.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a short laugh escaping your mouth. “Secluded too. Howard would have a field day if his office had somewhere like this.”

This was clearly an attempt to lighten the mood, and Peggy smiled. “Really?”

“Of course,” you said. “We would have to clean it daily.”

Now Peggy laughed for real, and you joined in. “I’m glad we don’t have any of that here,” she said.

“No scandal at the SSR?” you said playfully, and suddenly Peggy realized how close she was to you. She shook her head, and you laughed. “Want to be the first?”

You were really close now, and she was not unhappy about it. Despite your forward words, it was her that made the first move physically, and she reached down to take your hand. Clearly you felt the same way about her that she did about you, and she was not going to let this opportunity pass her by.

Your eyes did all the talking for a brief moment, and then your lips pressed to hers as everything in the entire world stopped (for Peggy at least). Ignoring the fact that anyone could walk into this room right now and see you two, Peggy allowed herself to get lost in the moment.

It was over much too soon for her liking, and you just smiled at her as you placed the last box of Howard’s files back where it had been on the shelf. “Do you want to go out for dinner with me?” you asked, a hopeful look on your face breaking through your cool exterior.

In response, Peggy leaned in and placed a soft peck on your lips. “Of course,” she said.

“Pick you up at seven? I already know where you live.”

Peggy laughed at the idea of you showing up to Howard’s house, and an image of Howard and the Jarvises acting like protective older siblings accompanied it. She knew that Ana and Edwin loved and cared for you as much as they did her, so no amount of false intimidation would get through, and no you would probably smile at their attempt to make you worry about what might happen to you if you brought Peggy back too late. “That sounds lovely,” she said.

She would probably have to thank Daniel for practically forcing her into the room with you, but that would happen in due time. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy the memory of your lips on hers. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[m00nsbaby]

Why'd you only call me when you are high?

Marc Spector x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. Angst, unrequired love, mentions of addiction. (Alcohol.) A story made of tiny little pieces of other stories.

Word count. 3.3k

Summary. It became an exhausting routine, something physically draining yet mentally suffocating. It came to a point when you wondered how you were able to deal with this without collapsing every time things got worse.

You met on one of his missions, or perhaps one of yours; that point was never clarified.

You could barely exchange a few words until, for security reasons, both of you had to stay locked in a hotel room for two days, or maybe it was three, you weren't keeping track.

"Do you think about your brother a lot?" You questioned, looking up at the ceiling. You were on the bed with your feet towards the pillows, and Marc's legs were already numb from sitting on the floor, back against the edge of the bed.

You pulled a sigh from him.

Before the confinement, you probably would have thought it was an insensitive question to ask, but it turns out that after 12 hours, both seemed to have descended into madness enough to vomit your life stories to each other.

It almost seemed like a competition to see which story was worse.

"Yes." His gaze was fixed on the floor. "A lot."

"Do you feel like he's with you? Do you believe in those things?" The ceiling had started to form shapes in front of your eyes. Or maybe it was just your tired vision that had already memorized every mark on it.

"I don't believe in those things." It was so strange to hear his voice out of combat, it was sweet and velvety without losing that raspy undertone. "And if I did, I think RoRo would be mad at me."

"He wouldn't be, Marc." You preferred to close your eyes rather than continue forming false figures on the ceiling. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know." It was the last thing he said, not believing his own words.

"Would it be too risky to order room service?"

Marc looked at you, he was pressing his lips together to suppress laughter, and you had pushed yourself far enough onto the bed that your head hung off the edge of the bed. He could feel your hair brushing against him.

In his eyes, you were quite a character.

"Are you hungry?"

"Why do you ask like that?" You turned to look at him. He seemed upside down from your angle.

"We could've died like three times since we got to the country, and who knows how many more times once we get out of here."

"And what does that have to do with my hunger?"

"Aren't you scared?"

"Are you?"

"No." He was. Marc was always scared, but he never showed it, especially now that you were supposed to be a team. He wouldn't drag you into his anxiety when you seemed so carefree.

"Then neither am I."

He gave up, still looking at you.

"What do you want?" He broke contact with you only seconds later, as he got up to retrieve the room phone.

You understood much later that in those 72 hours together Marc talked to you about things he never shared with anyone else, and neither he nor you understood where that sudden trust between you two came from.

Perhaps it was just one of those times when two people click effortlessly, chemistry just happened, and both accepted it.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Both of you were a mess. Marc's curls, for the first time since you had known him (approximately 14 days), were a mess, although it suited him, making him look more carefree than usual.

You, on the other hand, had applied lip balm about 17 times in the last few hours, and every time you saw your reflection on any surface, you complained about the noticeable dark circles. At least the wound on your cheek was healing.

"Of course, I don't live on the streets." You got a laugh out of Marc, who responded as if it were very obvious.

"Are you sure? Because it looks like it."

He nudged you with his shoulder, and this time you laughed.

"I hate flying." The sound of his suitcase on the floor and the number of people walking back and forth around you were testing Marc's already limited patience.

"Is there anything you don't hate?"

"Doubtful."

"Hey, look." With your free hand, you pointed to the airport's food area. It turned out you had been walking for about 40 minutes trying to find something to eat. Marc was about to murder someone just to get a donut, or at least that's what he had said.

After seeing how the mission ended, you didn't doubt his words.

"Maybe it was worth it." He had an impressive ability to joke with a serious expression on his face and the most monotone voice you'd ever heard. "You know, the mission."

"For a donut?"

"For two donuts. Choose whatever you want, I'll pay."

"Are you going to spend two dollars on me? Marc, please, I can't allow that."

You talked little as you ate your donuts at your uncomfortable two-person table. As the time to leave approached, you began to feel weirder.

On one hand, there was the feeling of being at home, the relief of having survived one more mission, and knowing that today you would finally sleep in your own bed. On the other hand, you weren't a person with many friends; saying goodbye to Marc was going to hurt.

And you couldn't stop thinking that this would be the last time you saw him. He also didn't seem like the type to keep in touch after these things.

"So, are you going home?" The airport exit was getting closer, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"I don't know, I don't think so." He checked the time on his wristwatch. "I'll call my wife to see if she can pick me up."

Oh.

Oh.

"Ah." You tried your best not to seem surprised by the casual mention of his partner. You smiled forcibly and mentally wondered why the nausea had increased. "Well, good luck then, Marc."

You let go of your suitcase and didn't give him time to step back when you hugged him tightly. You were complete opposites, the girl who wasn't afraid to express her feelings and the guy who suppressed what he felt as much as he could.

Still, he hugged you back. His arms tightened around your waist, and you clung to his neck for a few extra seconds.

"Good luck." He whispered back, the tiny window of time where he could close his eyes and enjoy your scent one last time.

When you let go of him, both of you were abruptly back in reality, trying to put on your best faces for each other.

"I'll call a taxi, so I'd better hurry." Your hand returned to your suitcase as you took a step back, still looking at him.

You couldn't even fully turn around when he called you.

"Wait." He fumbled in his pockets until he found his worn-out phone, the one he used only for missions or to talk to Layla when the line where he was wasn't secure. "Do you have a personal phone number?"

You always wondered if Marc had intentionally avoided that part of his life, if he also felt strange being with you and that's why he preferred you to think he was single.

Turns out, contrary to what you thought, keeping your friendship afloat actually turned out to be quite easy. You didn't take long to exchange messages and calls.

It was a bit more complicated, as it turned out you lived in completely different ends of the city, and both of you were busy more often than you'd like. But you also managed to visit each other.

He came to your apartment first, looking like a little kid touching all your stuff and entering as if it were his own home.

"You drove here?"

He waved the crumpled bus ticket he still had in his pocket.

"So, are you staying here?"

"Or I'd have to leave in an hour to get there at a decent time."

"Touché." You smiled, his presence didn't bother you at all. In fact, knowing how difficult it would be to meet up, you preferred him to stay there for as long as he could. "I have a guest room."

That night you hardly slept. You seemed like little kids at a sleepover. You watched movies, ate junk food, and talked.

You talked until their throats hurt.

You talked, talked, talked about everything and everyone. You discovered that was what you liked doing most with Marc, talking.

At 5 in the morning, you both went to sleep, and just a few hours later, you were saying goodbye to him again.

It always seemed strange to you that he didn't live with his wife, although you swallowed the urge to ask. You didn't complain; it would have actually been quite awkward to stay in the same house as her.

The next time was your turn to go there, and the formula repeated with two small exceptions.

He took you to his favorite café before you both got comfortable in his apartment. He ordered for you, in fact, insisting that his recommendation would be better than anything you could choose.

Marc had only one bed in his small apartment. You refused to let him sleep on the couch, so you ended up sharing the bed, each on a different side. You knew you would think about that night more often than you'd like to admit.

You heard his phone ring a million times, and he didn't even glance at it. You weren't afraid to admit that if he was ignoring his wife for you, maybe you didn't have a problem with it.

A routine formed for you both. You saw each other at least once a week, both spending an exorbitant amount on travel back and forth, but your lives sometimes became so heavy that you both convinced yourselves you deserved a break.

Oh, and you had a label now. Apparently, for the past two months, you had been best friends, and things were going perfectly, with one small exception.

You didn't want him as a best friend, and your feelings seemed to grow stronger as time went on.

Strangely, things between you two got more complicated when he and Layla started having problems. You always thought it would be the opposite, that maybe if there was a bit more space between them, you'd get more attention from Marc.

Were your desires wrong? Yes, worse than wrong, in fact, but when you were with him, seeing him smile, you couldn't help but wish for their relationship to finally end.

"She hates you," Marc had said over the call, and you laughed, almost cynically.

"It's obvious she hates me, Marc. We spend a lot of time together."

"I think she has a point, you know?" You heard him take a sip of something.

Ouch.

"I know." You cleared your throat. "Maybe you're not giving her her place."

That was the first of many, and so began the agonizing task of having to act as Marc's emotional support. Since he wasn't willing to fully separate from you, he simply lived with the idea that his wife would be on top of him all the time.

"And what did she say afterward?" It was your script all along, lying on your back on your bed.

Your ceiling didn't have cracks or imperfect figures like the one at the hotel in Cairo.

"That I'm not giving her her place, again." Uhm, who would've thought. Just as you suspected. "She doesn't like that I can talk to you and with her it's just… No."

Your heart raced, and you could only cover your emotion by clearing your throat.

"Why not, Marc?"

"I don't know, it's… It's weird. With you, everything is so easy."

If only he could stop being so sweet for just 5 minutes, it would be easier not to be in love with him if he just chose to be a jerk.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess that's how having friends works." He chuckled, but it gave you a pang in your chest.

"Oh, yeah." You cleared your throat again. "I suppose so."

"What should I do?"

'Leave her.' You thought.

"Maybe talk to her. Tell her that we're not romantically interested in each other, right?"

"I've tried that before, she doesn't listen to me."

"Divorce?"

He laughed as if you had told him one of your best jokes.

"Don't be silly, that's never going to happen."

Marc wasn't foolish; he knew perfectly well about your feelings for him. However, he preferred to keep pretending that he simply didn't know rather than lose his best friend. He didn't even know what he would do if one day you weren't in his life.

The truth was, he had never formed such a strong and profound bond with anyone else, not even with Layla.

You learned to know a side of him that you didn't like. He had always been honest with you about his problem with alcohol, and the situation was that you had spent so much time with him while he was 'clean' that you started to believe his alcoholism was now under control, or whatever that might be called.

"She's going to leave me." You heard him sob on the other end of the line, and your stomach churned just hearing the fear reflected in his voice as he uttered those words.

You wondered if anyone would ever feel that fear of losing you too.

"You're drunk, Marc." It was all you could say. "She's not going to leave you; everything seems more dramatic when you're like this."

"I promised her I'd stay away from you." He confessed in the midst of a sip of whiskey.

Was he even aware of how much he was hurting you? Probably not, and you wouldn't be the one to remind him of it the next day.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a few seconds, forcing yourself to regain composure.

"Is that why you're not coming home anymore, Marc?" Your voice cracked, but he didn't seem to care.

"I can't keep hurting her." You bit the inside of your cheek; otherwise, you were sure you'd yell at him.

"Marc? I have to go to sleep."

"Of course, I… I'm sorry, really."

Your skin grew thicker from that night onward, as you accepted that there could never be anything between you and Marc. You had to forcefully digest the fact that his heart belonged to someone else, even though that truth had always been right in front of you.

You couldn't remember the last time Marc had called you just to hang out like you used to do in the beginning.

It was fun. A lot of fun. You would hear him doing things around his apartment, sometimes the creak of his bed as he dropped onto it to speak more comfortably, occasionally you'd watch movies together and discuss them, and once or twice, you fell asleep on the call.

Now, you dealt with the same thing every week – the same daggers stabbing into your heart because, as you saw it, it would be more painful not to have him in your life at all than to have just a part of him.

Besides, of course, your love came coated in a thick layer of concern; it was impossible not to, especially when you saw your best friend slowly deteriorating due to a relationship that seemed to be going downhill. At this point, you didn't even know if it was your fault or if it was simply happening because they weren't compatible.

You couldn't leave him alone, even if you wanted to.

"Are you drinking again?"

"Just a little."

You sighed heavily – that's all he heard from your end.

"I'd prefer if you insulted me." His voice was soft, for a moment, you swore you were hearing the Marc who adored you not too long ago. "Your sounds of disappointment hurt me more."

"I'm not disappointed."

"You are."

"I'm worried."

Another long silence from both ends.

"Would you rather I call you tomorrow?" Oh, Marc, running away from your feelings again.

"That would be fine."

"Okay. I love you."

You didn't respond and simply hung up the call. A horrible migraine had been killing you for the past two hours, since Marc started his speech of the day about why Layla deserved someone better than him but he refused to let her go because he was selfish, and blah blah blah.

Someday you had to explode, right? No one can bottle up their feelings for so long.

It happened while Marc was spewing another story about Layla and how everything was different when they first met. You wondered if it was a pattern for him.

"Marc?" You whispered, and he finally fell silent.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I have to tell you something."

A prolonged silence. Longer than you would have liked until he spoke again.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Don't say it. Please."

"Marc, I have to…"

"I beg you, I don't want to hear…"

"I love you, Marc." You broke when the words managed to escape your throat. He understood that even though you told each other that all the time, this was different for both of you.

"No, don't do this, please." He sounded almost as desperate as you.

"I love you so much, and believe me, I've tried not to." You spoke quickly before he could interrupt you or hang up the call. "But I can't, Marc, I don't know why."

"Y-You know I'm with Layla, you know I love her." Why did it sound like a reproach?

"I know! You remind me of it every night while I'm breaking into pieces." You sobbed, and his chest tightened. "I can't do this anymore, Marc, I can't."

Your sobs and laments were the only things that could be heard on the call for a few minutes as he tried to figure out the smartest thing to say.

The truth was, he was blank. Did you want him to lie?

"I don't… I…" He cleared his throat and tried to stay calm even though he was on the verge of losing it.

"I know you don't feel the same."

Thank God he didn't have to say it out loud.

"I-I don't need you to reciprocate." Were your hands trembling over this nonsense? You felt like a heartbroken teenager. You wanted to hit something to check if that would bring you back to sanity. "I need you to understand that I can't keep doing this."

More silence.

More damn silence.

"Okay." It was all he said.

You wished with all your heart that he would beg not to lose you as he begged every night for Layla not to go.

"Okay." You repeated afterward as you sniffled.

It was all so unfair. You were sure you heard your phone's screen crack when you hung up the call.

Though, you felt so shattered that the stupid glass in your hand was the least important thing to you at that moment.

Anyone would think that would be the end, but it turns out Marc Spector didn't give up easily.

And you understood he had not an ounce of fear of losing you. Marc feared not having someone to talk to at night, he feared not having someone to support him and tell him he was right, he feared loneliness.

So you, with your heart completely broken and your spirits shattered exactly a week later, answered his call.

You told him that Layla was worth it and that he needed to get his life in order if he didn't want to lose her. And you repeated that in the following weeks.

Or was it months? Who knows, you had stopped counting a long time ago.

[lightofraye]

I’ve had a number of followers ask me, more than once, if Jensen was so miserable in his marriage, why does he stay?

I usually respond that there are many variables that we just don’t know. It may be Danneel is using the children to hold him hostage, as many an abuser have been known to use children to manipulate their victims. (And if no children, pets are also used.)

It could be too costly. I have no idea if they have a prenuptial agreement in place (I hope he does but I doubt it…)

He may be waiting to establish residency in Connecticut as the state law requires being established for a year before allowing a divorce filing. We know that’s approaching soon.

He may just be resigned to it. Just because a couple stays together does not mean—in any shape or form—that they’re happy. Trust me, folks, staying together is not proof of being happy.

He may be waiting for the kids to be grown up. That’s a mistake many a couple make—children are incredibly perceptive and can tell when their parents aren’t happy or in love.

They may already be informally separated (meaning no legal filing of separation on file). Certainly the ice cream story sounds heavily like a father who was seeing his kids on visitation.

Then I came across this Buzzfeed article where they quoted some comments from Reddit. The Reddit topic was about insights in their unhappy marriage. The whole article and Reddit post are absolutely worth reading, but several caught my eye and I wanted to publicly share.

This one is tragic: “I am stuck in my marriage because he is blackmailing me saying he will reveal my past to family and relatives. If I argue, he becomes violent. I don’t want to be with him, but there is no one to help.”

Or this one: “Depending on your personality type, you can tend just to resign yourself to things over time. I am in a marriage where we feel more like friends than anything. Our strengths/weaknesses don’t really complement each other. I also somehow end up doing a solid 85%-90% of the work around here (I am in charge of finances, I take care of the dogs, I’m the one who knows how to fix things around the house, and be the one who would take the time to hire the right person to do it when it’s beyond me). I admit I resent it sometimes. But over the years, I don’t really bring it up anymore. I’ve just gotten… used to it.”

This one breaks my heart: “I am so ready to leave, but taking that first step feels so hard. Just finally sitting down and saying the 18 months of therapy and ‘work’ haven’t been working. I dislike the person he has become, and I see no future with him. It’s really the fear of the unknown that keeps me here. I keep reminding myself that I know ZERO divorced people who said they wish they hadn’t divorced, and most say they just wish they hadn’t waited so long. My kids are young enough that they won’t remember, and there is a long road to go on for new, better, happier memories to be made. It’s just finally saying I want to divorce, and I just can’t get it to come out of my mouth.”

And this one: “I work for a guy that has been married 60 years. He said he works 60 hours a week so he doesn’t have to be home with his wife.”*

*This one sounds familiar, no?

It’s never easy. Period. Abused or not, it’s never easy.

[railingsofsorrow]

can I request Seth Clearwater x male shifter reader

plot male reader can't start the day without his coffee he make but leaves it unintended while busy doing something else real quick Seth see it and drink it so know the pack has to deal with grumpy reader and a super hyper seth

Coffee Stealer

[seth clearwater x reader]

A/N: grumpy x sunshine trope because that's what your request led me to :)

summary: a cup of coffee is stolen and two people deal with the consequences.

pairing: seth clearwater x male!reader

w.c: 1.3K

warnings/content: language; description of violence (someone is thrown into a tree); fluff.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, did you get Embry's text?” You ask, frowning at the notification in your phone. It was early Saturday morning, you weren't supposed to meet until later in the day. It was Saturday!

Apparently, there was a new threat in the city and they need all the help they could get. Embry couldn't have been more ominous in the text.

Waiting for your coffee to finish brewing, you typed a quick reply back to your friend, alerting that Seth and you would be there in ten minutes.

Probably twenty if Seth didn't respond to you any second now. Although, it didn't take you long to realize you were home alone.

“Morning!” A wet kiss met your cheek and you blink at your sweaty boyfriend walking past you to reach the fridge. “Why are you up so early? We still have time before—”

“No, we don't,” you cut him off with arms folding across your chest. Slightly annoyed at his energetic persona before ten o'clock of a Saturday. He probably went on his morning jog. “Embry said we're needed now. The whole pack.” Seth is too busy dripping cool water on the floor of your kitchen to bother with you, apparently.

He kisses the back of your neck as your pouring coffee on your mug and you flinch away with a groan.

“Cold.”

He bites the skin on your shoulder softly and exits the kitchen before you can curse at him.

“Drink your coffee, baby. You're grumpy!”

“And you, stop making the whole apartment wet!”

Idiot.

You love him. You truly do — after the first sip into your favourite beverage you start remembering that. It's just rule number one for you, you can't function in the morning without your coffee.

However, when you check the hour, you sprint away to your room to get ready before even taking a sip of your cup. You're later than you expected given the time Embry sent the text.

Once you arrive back at your living room, your boyfriend scent is mixing with the smell of coffee you left at the kitchen. You don't think much of it, coffee is strong enough to linger through the apartment.

Until you see a culprit holding your mug and drinking your coffee. He grins up at your from the couch.

“Looks good on you.” He points at your outfit, sipping on the cup.

You had chose the first comfortable piece of clothing you could find, which end up being one of his sweaters that hang loosely around your frame and some gray joggers to match — those are yours, at least.

“Is that...is that mine?”

Seth gave you a confused face, then lowered his attention to the mug and then back to you. His eyebrows raising in sudden alarm.

“I thought you had it before and you left it for me...”

“You don't even like coffee, Clearwater.”

“Well, I thought—”

Shaking your head in disbelief was what made him shup up because he knew he had hit a nerve. If he thought you were normally grumpy before... now you'd just straight up murder someone — him. He wouldn't blame you, to be honest. It was true, he didn't even like coffee, just a cup made him hyped up the entire day. And your coffee was strong, that was like three times worse for him.

He couldn't stop saying sorry and you were rolling your eyes every time. You weren't angry, you were annoyed. That's all. What made the situation worse was that when you got to the supposedly pack meeting, Embry's text had been a joke. There was no new threat in Forks. No need for you to be up and about that early.

“I just wanted some company and you idiots were the only ones who actually believed me.”

Yes, you would murder someone today.

“Why are you children yelling?”

Seth felt Leah's presence before she made herself known. He didn't even need to look up to see his sister's legs hanging from the tree branch.

“Y/N is beating the daylights out of Embry because he woke him up early.”

A whoosh of wind beside him told Seth that Leah had jumped down. Her lips displaying a satisfied smirk.

“Oh. I'd say whatever it was Embry probably deserved.” Leah kicked the back of his knee which made him stumble back, glaring at her. “What's up with your leg?” He was moving it non-stop as if he was being electrified. “Why are you so hyped?” Now that she looked closely, her brother couldn't stay still. Even his fingers were twitching for some reason.

Before Seth could answer, a tree fell on top of another. They watched Embry shift back to his human form and groan loudly on the grass. Oh, that meant so much more than a few broken ribs.

Leah laughed, “Go, Y/N!” said wolf turned to her and huffed, paddling away further down the woods. “Oof, he's mad. What did you do?”

Seth gave her a bored look, “Why do you always think I'm to blame?”

“That's because you usually are.”

He sighed in a resigned manner, shoulders slumping. He was messing with the strings of his hoodie, rolling it around his fingers distractedly.

“Well, I— I kind of... drank? His coffee.” Leah blinked, eyes widening slowly as she connected the dots in her brain.

“Oh, my g— you basically fed the beast?”

“Okay, I didn't know—”

“Seth, you don't even like coffee,” Leah deadpanned.

Just as Seth was about to retaliate, he froze at your voice from behind him, shoulders tensing.

“That's what I said.” You tilted your head, your arms crossing over your bare chest as you stared daggers into Seth's profile. You loved that jawline, it was the perfect spot to kiss, but did he annoy you today.

Except that you couldn't stay mad at him for long, you just liked to add fuel to the fire.

“I'll make you two whole pots next time, sunshine,” you said, pulling your — his — sweater above your head, letting it sink into your frame.

Seth takes a careful step towards you and that is Leah's cue to leave, she chooses to bother Embry for the time being, he's still thrown on the grass.

“I'm sorry. I know how you value your coffee in the morning—” he's cut off by a soft peck on his lips, causing a gasp to leave his throat in surprise. “You're not... mad?” Moments like these — when Seth makes that puppy-eyed face, cogs in his head turning on new ways to make up to you, lips pursing into a pout — are what keeps making you fall for him even more.

“I love you, you idiot.” You kiss him again because you can. His body is slowly melting into your arms, you can feel the tension leaving him as your hands pull softly at his baby hairs on the back of his neck. “Just don't drink my coffee again. If you do, leave me some, don't be a monster.”

Seth nods, licking lips lips to kiss you again. “Okay, I promise. Sorry, I love you.” He repeats it while cupping your cheeks to bring you impossibly closer.

The thing is, he tasted like coffee. So, technically, you still had your morning coffee, right? It wasn't so bad, even if you had to deal with a hyped up Seth Clearwater for the entire day.

[munsons-melody]

hi! i read your 'angeleyes' fic and it was AMAZING i was just wondering.. perhaps, just maybe, a part 2-ish where y/n and eddie actually have that picnic at lovers lake ?? i think that would be so cute and pure 🤭 or it could be a totally separate thing from the fic itself!

eeek i'm so happy you wanted a part 2!! sorry for the late response, i wanted to write the fic as perfect as possible before responding, i hope you love it!! <3

your song (angeleyes part two)

summary: you and eddie finally get your date at lovers lake

(part two to my fic angeleyes which can be found here)

pairing: eddie x female!henderson!reader

content: pure fluffiness

recommended song: 'your song' by elton john

word count: 4.4k

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

-

after you and eddie reconciled in the back of the RV, you vowed to yourself that you would let nothing happen to him and he of course already told you that he would keep you safe no matter what

even when that meant reading his mind when returning through the gate. you had watched dustin climb through the rope into normal hawkins, before turning to eddie. he gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up and through the gate, but once through, you looked down to see eddie staring at where the demo bats were attempting to breach through the top of the trailer

"edward james munson, get your ass through this gate right now!" you screamed, knowing he wanted to go out there and keep fighting, be the hero he was destined to be

"coming" he mumbled, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back up through the gate to see you

once you reconvened with everyone back in the real world, you felt some weight fall off your shoulders, assuming vecna was dead, and you felt a sense of normalcy headed your way, however, that was not what happened

eddie was found and arrested within hours of being back in the real hawkins because a couple people spotted movement within his trailer

you sat on the cold hard chair in the waiting room of the hawkins police department. it had been at least an hour since eddie was taken back to the small cell they had in the back of the building. you sat there with your hands buried in your hands with dustin next to you, who was biting on his thumb nail out of pure anxiety.

the news had not gone public but you were scared that at any minute, angry mobs of people would appear, ready to rip him apart for something he didn't do

sheriff powell walked into the room, handing a file over to florence who sat behind her desk. you stood up, looking for some sort of sign that you would be able to go back and see him

"uh we need to ask you a couple of questions as well, if you wouldn't mind," he said, ushering you to follow him

"no, whatever you want to ask, you can ask me right here," you said, crossing your arms

"ugh whatever, uh, did he force either of you two into his murderous plans?" he started, flipping open a small notebook, clicking his pen with a frustrated sigh

it was obvious that since he took on the role of the hawkins sheriff, he never expected to be put in a situation like this and as the arresting officer, he was clearly stressed knowing he had the number one suspect of the murders in the building and only him and florence knew that he was sitting in the holding cell

"what? no! that's crazy, he is innocent!" dustin yelled

"son, you need to remain calm or we won't be able to get to the bottom of this," he said, rubbing his forehead in distress

"calm? you want me to stay calm? you just arrested someone who is more innocent than mother theresa! he was framed!" dustin yelled again, throwing his hands up to dramatize his point

just then, the phone rang.

"hawkins police department, how may i help you?" she said picking up the phone and placing it on her ear. she balanced it between her shoulder as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing something down

she muttered a couple of "uh-huhs" before hanging up the phone and standing up, walking over to the sheriff

"that was officer callahan, he just found some kids at the abandoned creel house, one of them with broken arms and legs like the others, she was taken to the hospital about half an hour ago" florence explained, and you looked at dustin

"is she awake? can she talk?" powell asked and florence shrugged

"they didn't say," she responded and Powell nodded

"i'll be back, you two stay here" powell said firmly, grabbing his sheriff hat and walking out the door

you nodded, and sat down again, tears pricking at your eyes feeling frustrated as ever

"are you guys hungry?" florence asked sweetly and you shook your head, rubbing your forehead

"you sure? cause i can go grab something next door, and while i do so, there's no one here to stop you from seeing mr. munson..." she trailed off

you lifted your head up, picking up on what she was trying to say. she would leave to get food and while she was gone, she was going to let you see eddie

"but what about-" you started and she shook her head

"i'm going to go get you two food, you two look famished" florence said again, grabbing her coat and purse and walking swiftly out of the door leaving you and dustin alone in the building

you would assume that there would be more officers working, but most were out patroling the streets or looking for eddie, unaware that the sherriff already brought him in

you quickly ran down the hall and turned the corner to see eddie sitting on the hard metal bench that was connected to the wall, his head in his hands

"eddie?" you said urgently. he lifted his head up to see you and instantly got up and walked towards the bars that divided the two of you

"y/n, how did you get back here?" he asked, linking his hand with yours that met on one of the bars

"florence let me back but that's not important, how are you?" you asked sympathetically

"oh you know, just peachy, i almost die defeating an evil force just to get thrown in jail for a crime i didn't commit" he said sarcastically. you knew he was using it as a defense mechanism to cover the fact that he wanted to cry and scream and punch a wall for being in the worst situation imaginable

"well i am going to do everything in my power to get you out of here i promise" you told him and he nodded, wiping away a tear

"oh eddie bear don't cry" you said, using his nickname you started to call him when you first started dating

"ew, eddie bear?" dustin said, appearing behind you

"hey at least she is being nice" eddie snapped back and dustin crossed his arms

"i am nice too! i'm here to help get you out," dustin told him and you sorta droned out as the two continued to bicker like brothers with one another

you both stayed with eddie for a couple more minutes before you heard the bell of the front door ring, signaling someone was coming in

"shit, okay, i love you, i'll be back" you said to eddie, disconnecting your hands and following dustin out of the room and down the hall back to where the desks were

florence came back in holding a large brown paper bag, giving you a small smile

"sorry im a few minutes later than i should've been, there was a long line" she said with a wink, handing you the bag

you thanked her as she took out one package of food and headed down the hallway, presumably towards eddie, and left the rest to you and dustin as you dove into the meal

you were almost done, snacking on a couple of leftover fries when both sheriff powell and officer callahan walked into the building and down the hall to eddie

you got up, following them, not caring if you would get reprimanded for doing so. they were both silent as you watched them unlock the cell, eddie standing up and looking at them with confusion

"mr. munson, under new evidence you are no longer under arrest for the murders of chrissy cunningham, fred benson, and patrick mckinney. you are free to go" powell said with a grisly voice

eddie slowly walked out of the cell, staring at the two officers incase they were to have a snap in judgment and throw him back in

"what.. what do you mean?" you asked as he walked to you, giving you a hug

"we cannot disclose much but, we found that there was another accident that occurred when mr. munson here was in this cell, which proves.." callahan started to say

"it proves he didn't do it since we had him detained here so there was no way he was able to get out and do anything" powell finished

you started crying, and your arms wrapped around eddie, pulling him in close

"thank god" you mumbled out, before it hit you

-

the next day you woke up in your bed, eddie next to you. after all the shit that went down, you were more than happy to be showered and laying in bed next to eddie who was no longer convicted of a crime he didn't commit

the two of you snuck into your room the night before as you were promised as of 12 pm last night, the news would be spread that eddie munson was innocent

you knew that even with the proof of innocence, people would still be cruel towards your boyfriend so you decided the best course of action was to let him sleep all day in a comfy bed, then take him on a picnic to lovers lake. it would be secluded and give you a chance to just be with him

you rolled out of bed quietly and walked out of your room and down the hall to the living room. you saw your mom sitting in her chair with tews sitting on her lap, watching the news

"did you see this?" she asked, motioning to the tv where you saw the headline underneath powell stating the new evidential facts

new evidence found in munson case - suspect found innocent

"yeah uh, i did see that, i actually picked him up from the station last night..." you told her and she gasped

"where is he now? he obviously can't go home" she asked

"now mom, don't get mad but he had to stay over last night-" you tried to explain and she got up, putting tews on the seat behind her

"he's here?" she said with a mix of a shout with a whisper, you gulped with a nod

"well, that poor thing! after everything he's been through! does he need anything?" she asked, and you were shocked

"oh uh, not now? he's sleeping but when he gets up he'll probably need something to eat and then i'm taking him on a picnic tonight," you smiled sheepishly

"oh good, well i do have to head to work soon but please make him feel at home, poor thing has been through enough" she told you and you nodded with an unsure smile

"yeah sure" was all you said as she walked to her room

you stood there, stunned. to be fair she knew you and eddie were dating and how close he and dustin were, but the whole situation of him being accused of something so heinous really freaked her out.

you checked the time and saw it was only about 8 am, your mom would leave in a few minutes and you knew for a fact eddie and dustin, who were both dead asleep, would probably not wake up till hours later

figuring you should do something of use, you decided to wash eddie's clothes, start prepping food for your picnic, and find some other things to busy yourself with

-

"how's max" you asked nancy. she was at the hospital with mike and lucas, and she called you after wondering where you went. you explained the eddie situation which she was thankful for, and updated the rest of the group for you.

"alive, but her arms and legs are broken and in casts, the doctors don't know when she'll wake up," she said as you heard her sniffles

a few tears started to fall upon hearing the news, and you nodded, thankful she was alive but praying she would wake up and everything would be okay

"how's eddie doing?" she asked just as you heard a door creak open. you looked around the corner to see eddie coming out of your room in just a pair of boxers

"speak of the devil, he just woke up," you told her as eddie wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body heating up yours

you continued to talk with nancy for a few more minutes as eddie slowly swayed you side to side. the two of you eventually said goodbye and you hung up, turning your body to face eddie

"hi baby" he said as you put your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck

"how'd you sleep?" you asked

"fucking amazing, such an upgrade from ricks couch," he said, kissing your forehead

you stood like that for a handful of minutes, enjoying the bliss of standing in each others arms.

"you hungry?" you asked. "yeah" he mumbled out. you went to move out of his arms but he wouldn't let you move

"baby i kinda have to go to the kitchen" you laughed, trying to worm your way out of his arms and he gripped tighter

"nope, cant let you go, i love you too much" he laughed as he fake wrestled you to avoid you leaving his arms

eddie and you fumbled to the floor, causing you two to burst into giggles. you hadn't heard his laugh in the longest time and it warmed your heart

"i've missed that" you said, leaning on your side to look at him. he propped himself up on his arm and out the other around your waist

"missed what" he asked, stroking your hip lightly with his thumb

"you, your smile, your laugh, everything" you giggled out

"i missed everything about you too" he said, using his hand on your hip to pull you close. he swiftly moved so he was hovering over you, slowly leaning down to kiss you

just as your lips touched, you heard a few footsteps and then a loud "what the fuck, get off the floor" by an annoyed dustin, who clearly just woke up

"sorry man" eddie mumbled out, and got up, and helped you up from the floor as well

you cooked the two of them breakfast, and munched on a few pieces here and there before dustin got up, putting his plate in the sink

"i'm going to get dressed and then head to the hospital to see max, can you drive me there?" he asked eddie, and he nodded a yes

"uh babe, where are my clothes?" eddie asked

"oh i washed and dried them for you, they should be downstairs, i can go get it" you said, kissing his temple in passing

you quickly got his clothes out of the dryer and brought them back up from the basement, going to your room and setting them on your bed

you went back to the kitchen, and started cleaning the dishes up, noticing dustin left the table

"i put your clothes on my bed" you said to him when he came up behind you and kissed your neck

"or we can make it even and you can lose your clothes" he suggested, kissing up your neck

you smiled, drying your hands on the small towel next to the sink

"oh really?" you smirked, as he kissed up your neck, you pressed back against him causing a small moan to emit from his perfect pink lips

"okay eddie im ready to go!" you heard dustin scream as he walked down the hall

"fucking cock block" eddie mumbled, leaning his forehead against your shoulder causing you to giggle

"go on, i'm gonna work on our surprise date" you said and he kissed your shoulder

"its not really a surprise if you tell me about it" he said, pulling away from you causing the chilly air to nip at your skin

"well i had to tell you cause you're gonna drive us there" you said smiling

"oh really?" he said, pulling you in for another kiss

"really" you said pulling away

"ew gross guys cmon im right here" you heard dustin complain. you giggled as you watched eddie flick dustins temple as he passed him on the way to your room

a few minutes later he came back out wearing his newly cleaned hellfire t shirt and black jeans, slipping on his shoes

"lets go" he said, keys in hand

-

after eddie got back, you two packed up food, and you honestly didn't care that you knew he knew where you guys were going

you had gotten dressed into a comfy sweater and jeans, knowing it was going to be a bit nippy when the sun set by the lake

eddie helped you push the picnic basket and blankets into the back of his van then helped you up into the passenger seat, shutting your door for you, always refusing for you to get it because to him 'a lady should never get her own door' and always insisted he did it instead

"so i think i know where we're having our surprise date" eddie said with a smirk, hopping into the drivers seat and shutting the door 

he turned on the engine in his van and started the usual drive from your house to lovers lake 

the radio played softly, and you turned your body to admire him, watching him focus on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the clutch.

"what's going through your mind pretty girl?" he asked, noticing you looking 

"nothing, just admiring how pretty you are," you smiled, and he stretched the hand he had on the clutch and moved it to your thigh

you put your hand on top of his, stroking his skin lightly before your hands intertwined. you felt the roughness of his calloused fingers graze over yours along with the metal of his rings that he refused to go anywhere without 

"you think i'm pretty?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips as he glanced over at you

"of course, god broke the mold when he made you," you said with a giggle and eddie rolled his eyes, a real smile stretching over his face 

"that's so cheesy" eddie said with a chuckle. the radio continued to play as you sat in comfortable silence

but it wasn't long before the two of you were talking about everything and anything as you usually would end up doing but you secretly loved it, to you it proved you would never run out of things to talk about 

before you knew it, you had arrived at your usual spot in lovers lake. it was a small, quiet area that you hadn't seen too many people in but it was perfect for the two of you. there was enough room for the van to be parked on the side of the road, and your usual spot sat in a clearing of bushes which provided some privacy which was nice. it was also close to the water which gave the right amount of ambience to your dates with eddie. it was a peaceful intermission from life everytime you came here and that's why it soon became your favorite 

of course during the break up, you were very upset you couldn't go there to think, just out of pure fear you were to see eddie here with some other girl. but you didn't know what was worse, running into him on a date with another girl in your spot, or seeing him there all alone and not being able to be with him sitting on the shoreline 

you and eddie took your stuff from his van and walked down to where you normally set the blanket and you had a sense of deja vu wash over you 

"agh i'm getting deja vu" you spoke, setting down the blanket which made eddie chuckle

"i just take it that if it was meant to happen before you're where you're meant to be right now" eddie said setting up the food, and you laughed 

"when did you become so wise?" you asked in surprise and eddie shrugged with a smile 

"somewhere on the walk from the car to here" eddie joked

-

the sun had set, the food was finished, and the music was playing from one of eddie's transistor radios he had from his van

you were leaning against eddie who was sitting against a tree, giving you the perfect view of the lake while eddie's arms wrapped around you 

the song on the radio changed and suddenly you were listening to the familiar tune of 'your song' by elton john

"ugh i love elton, but this song is so cheesy and overplayed" you complained to eddie

"can i tell you a secret?" he responded causing you confusion on his response 

"yeah?" you told him

"i actually kinda like this song" he said with a sheepish smile 

"what?" you said in surprise and he nodded, shifting his position to get up, offering a hand to help you up from your spot 

you stood up as he gently pulled you in close, your hands were on his chest as his arms snaked around your waist, and he rested his hands on your lower back 

he started to dance with you as the lyrics flowed, and your heart skipped a beat as he started to sing along

'I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do My gift is my song, and this one's for you'

he quickly kissed you between verses before he continued to sing to you, gently swaying you back and forth as you laid your head on his chest, putting your arms around his neck 'And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple, but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world'

you started to tear up a little bit just from the amount of pure love for the man in front of you. he moved his head to get your attention just to sing you your favorite line from the whole song 

'yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen'

you smiled and looked away, blushing as he continued to sing along until the song ended and the two of you stood there in each other's arms, the radio switching to some other song while hearing the light waves from the lake splash onto the edge of the ground where you stood

"i guess its not such a cheesy song after all" you muttered, wiping a tear from your cheek

"guess not" eddie agreed, leading to another few minutes of silence of standing there with each other which was pure bliss after the hell you've encountered the past few weeks, before eddie spoke again 

"it's all true though" he said and you responded with an intrigued "hm?"

"the song, it's true for me. you make life the most wonderful thing to experience just because you're here with me, and i can't say it enough but i love you more than life y/n" he said, locking eyes with you

you gently cupped his face, kissing him with such passion you were sure it would break the world record for the amount of love shown through a kiss. he kissed you back, pulling you in close like he would lose you the second he let go. your hands tangled in his hair as your tongues explored each other's mouths like it was new territory. 

when you finally pulled away for air, eddie kept you close, leaning his forehead against yours and rubbing a hand on the back of your neck. he kissed your forehead lightly before pulling away, looking at your fingers entangling with his

he quickly pulled away and turned around before he whipped back around and got down on one knee, holding up the ring he always wore on his right hand. the one he stole from his mom's jewelry box when he was 12 but she ended up letting him keep it, finding it endearing he wanted to wear it

"y/n, this is a promise that no matter how stupid i am, that we always work things out, and we stay that way no matter what. i love you and never want to let you go and as a token of my promise, and my love and appreciation, will you please wear my ring and be mine again?" he asked, looking up at you, the lyrics of having the sweetest eyes you've ever seen coming to fruition with his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours

"eddie i-" you started to feel the tears fall down your cheeks as you stopped yourself, a small giggle coming from your mouth 

"i love you eddie, yes of course" you said as you stretched out your hand to meet his as he slipped the ring onto your ring finger. it fit a little too perfectly, causing your heart to flutter. 

he stood up, picking you up and spinning you around as you let out a laugh squeal combination, before putting you back down on the ground, holding your face as you leaned into his hand, watching his eyes look at you with a look of admiration 

"one day i'll write you my version of your song, and it'll be all for you" he said with a smile 

"will it include cheesy lyrics?" you laughed and he nodded

"naturally" 

fin.

[writing-for-life]

Hey there! I hope you’re having a good day. I just saw a post you made about Dream’s type romantically. Thoughts on Calliope and Dream’s relationship specifically? It always stands out to me how though Dream has had a number of lovers throughout the millennia, Calliope is the only one he married. (And of course, Melissanthi Mahut and Tom Sturridge’s blistering chemistry in the show is an additional component for me xD but feel free to respond only based on the comics if you wish!)

Hey, always happy to see your asks in my inbox!

So, first of all; I don’t care what everyone else thinks:

Dream and Calliope are the OTP even though I’m not a shipper. There, I said it, hit me over the head with a hammer, I live well in that tiny little corner of fandom 🤣

Conceptually, they are very, very alike. There is definitely something in there about dreams marrying epic poetry (and eloquence!) that’s just so on the nose.

But I also can’t help thinking: Slight power imbalance maybe, and we also get this more directly via the “all gods get born and die in the Dreaming.” I think often about how this would have played out for them once Calliope’s last worshippers have died—it’s certainly a tough one, even if their relationship hadn’t soured.

But even so: She is the Muse of Epic Poetry, he is the Prince of Stories, so there is A LOT of overlap between what they stand for. And hence, a lot of mutual understanding. They always struck me as *getting* each other (probably why they fell in love in the first place)—until they didn’t. The fact they didn’t live together was good for them I think, because thoughts need to be allowed freedom to form and develop. Plus, there’s also a lot to be said for Calliope keeping her independence that way. Not just in terms of personhood, but again if you think of how she was essentially created in, and will return to, the Dreaming. It’s probably wise for her (in conceptual terms) not to hang out there ALL the time?

She seems a lot more grounded in the mortal world than Dream is though. I always thought that was down to the fact that humans know her, as in actively worship her/ask her for inspiration, which must make her much closer in a way? Because bar a few, no one really *knows* Dream exists, although everyone does, if that makes any sense? Mortals know him on a subconscious level (that’s why he’s forever nebulous and *lonely*), but people know Calliope as a deity and seek connection explicitly. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, but to me, that was always a reason why, although a goddess, she seemed far less removed from the mortal plight than Dream was (at least when they were still an item—we all know he changed, even if he didn’t admit it [well, he did in the end to Nuala, which is a whole ‘nother topic]).

And when I think about why they didn’t work out, I can only think: “Orpheus”.

I mean yes, she said that they were already starting to drift apart slightly before she was with child, but there was still a lot of love between them even so. I think the death knell was to have a child on these wonky foundations. Why they did, we’ll never know.

Conceptually, there’s again something very deep and painful about dreams and poetry becoming something real. And then, that mortal child becoming immortal (until his father finally intervenes). But Orpheus was still all mortal and human to his core, even when he became immortal for a while, and that was *always* at the base of their rift. But I digress…

Back to why was Orpheus the death of their marriage? Dream’s advice to Orpheus was sound, yet it was unfeeling and lacked empathy. Calliope’s was maybe (?) not as reasonable, but she understood her child because a mother’s love is (usually) unconditional. We all know Dream’s wasn’t for a long time although it should have been.

I think if they’d all sat together as a family, supported their son in his grief in a balanced way, this whole catastrophe could have been avoided (I mean no, not really—it’s a tragedy, “doomed by the narrative” and all that). But all of Dream’s relationships (be that to his son or his lovers) fail because he is unreality (hence he has a hard time when things quite literally get real), and despite *knowing* mortals on a very deep level, I don’t believe he truly *understood* them at this point. But I think Calliope did—maybe due to who she was, maybe just because she actually *allowed* them in? Because Dream never truly did that. And when he finally did and truly understood what unconditional love actually means, he came apart at the seams and unravelled.

There’s also something really interesting conceptually in thinking of the Prince of Stories who doesn’t believe he has his own, and the Muse of Epic Poetry who inspires. Who is trying to control whom in this scenario? It’s mirrored in how they behave when the whole Orpheus tragedy takes off:

Calliope tries to inspire and, dare I say try to control the narrative a bit, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, quite the opposite: She looks for the most favourable outcome for everyone involved, even if it means bending the rules: She tries to convince Dream to put in a good word with Hades and believes he would listen because Gods respect him and, dare I say it, are even a bit scared of him.

Dream is rigid. Which is so mind-bending for someone who is the personification of hopes, wishes and possibility. But he is an immovable object: If he’s right, he’s right. That’s the rules, that’s it. And he won’t bend them, not even for his son. I’m not saying that it’s not understandable from his point of view, because he might know things we don’t (potentially also that although he *could* bend the rules because he has the power to do so, it might have knock-on effects no one else can understand or see—it’s impossible to say), only that they are fundamentally different in their approach although they are *both* about inspiration. And inspiration is so closely related to bringing on change (ouch!).

Part of me wants to say that Calliope uses it to control the narrative while Dream doesn’t, that Calliope believes that we can change our destiny while Dream doesn’t, but that’s also too simple. Because Dream *can* be controlling, but in totally different ways and areas.

I feel like I’m rambling out a lot of unordered thoughts, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that Dream and Calliope were so close because they are so similar in so many ways bar one:

Their understanding how inspiration can be used to bring on change. I would somehow go as far as saying that Calliope understands what it means to have personhood, also for herself, and that’s why she understands it in others (I think this is made *very* clear when Richard Madoc holds her hostage). Dream doesn’t—least not at the point where it would have mattered with regards to their relationship, because I think the fishbowl has changed him in that regard. This is also why he wants to make things right with her I believe. But of course he would never openly admit it (he basically stops himself before blurting it out), simply because it would also mean he’d need to admit it to himself…

With regard to that meta:

I definitely think they were highly romantically attracted, purely down to who/what they are. I can’t say too much about their sexual attraction, but after Calliope’s speech at his wake, it would be somewhat unlikely to assume they weren’t 🙈🤣

Was it unconditional though? No.

Was it pragmatic (that sounds so bad and unfeeling, but it’s not a bad thing, because a certain level of pragmatism is what grounds love in reality and makes it last)? I think they tried. But ultimately, he can never live that way because he is unreality, and I often wonder if they both knew 😭

@two-hands-toward-the-sun ask answered