#i like him! hes my buddy. there are five million things wrong with him

[cremefralche]

kylar sketch

[kxxkiecxre]

ʚ✟⃛ɞ LANGUAGE || J.J.K ʚ✟⃛ɞ

PAIRING: Jungkook X reader.

SUMMARY: forgive and forget… with a little dick on the side of course to make up for it.

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, a lot of titty talk, a lot of hickeys, Jungkook has a big dick 🫣, so much kissing, Yeji is literally in the other room???, overstimulation cause purrrr, biting… I think that’s it? Lol

GENRE: best friends brother au.

Unedited because I bitch couldn’t be bothered… tbf tho I did edit a small bit but I hate editing so 🤭

WC: 5.3k

PREVIOUSLY… NEXT…

JUST LIKE many other people that surrounded you at the shop, you were tired, aching and internally screaming as you approached the lengthy queue, hoping to god another till opens up so you can get out of here as fast as possible and get home take a shower and sleep.

It’s been quite in the recent five months that you’ve last spoken to Jungkook, and like any good friends you and Yeji still hang out and talk. Which proved to be a little harder at first then you expected, but to your luck Jungkook has left for a match in America a couple days ago, so you and Yeji get to finally have a much needed sleepover at her place.

Rolling your neck around and trying your best to not fall asleep in the middle of the shop. As if to wake you up, a shopping cart bumps into you, and you whip around to look at the culprit, only to find two tiny hands holding onto the bar.

“Oh sorry!” The kid mumbles cutely, a floppy mess of hair on top of his head.

“Where’s your dad handsome?” You questioned, finally meeting the babies eyes, warm gentle and sweet.

“He said he’ll be back in two seconds” he smiled cutely, “and I’m five today!”

“Oh wow you’re five? Well happy birthday buddy” you smile just as you see his dad, a drop dead gorgeous man, approach.

“Thank you” he chuckles happily.

“I’m sorry, I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble” his dad, a tall beautiful Angel apologies.

Almost like you’re in a trance you softly say, “he’s a sweet kid, I don’t think you have to worry about him causing trouble”.

“Dad, can I ask her name?” The kid asks as his dad lifts him up in his arms.

“Well that depends if the lady will tell you her name.” He shrugs chuckling.

“I’m Y/N, what about you?”

“My name is roowon and this is my dad Seokjin!” He announces proudly.

“Nice to meet you guys!” You coo at him as he gives the sweetest smile to you.

Within small talk you exchanged numbers with Seokjin, promising to have dinner together as soon as both of your schedules clear up. And however much you may like about Seokjin, whose divorced from his wife for a year now, you can’t seem to stop thinking about someone who wasn’t even yours in the first place or the pain that comes with it.

Finding comfort in the warmth of your house did very little, and as much as you like the taste of your favourite wine, you know it won’t suffice the emptiness within you. Not even in a million years, but it does the job of keeping you calm.

However it doesn’t stop you from calling Jimin, and don’t get it wrong the sex is amazing, and Jimin is great. He’s apologised for what went down, and choosing pleasure over pain was too good to let go. You’re not one to hold grudges anyway, you’d rather forgive and forget.

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, what you craved for. It wasn’t what you knew would settle the pain. And you felt awful about it, because Jimin was more than understanding as he laid beside you. Any woman would be lucky to have him, he’s a great person. The perfect guy even. The thing about you though, is you don’t fancy perfect. You like the waves that come with life, you adapted to that life. It’s all you know, since forever.

And life is just that, wavy, rocky and unsettled. But it’s comforting, it’s home. And Jimin… Jimin deserves better than that, he deserved someone as loving and perfect like him. He’s an Angel, an Angel you haven’t yet grown to appreciate. Which is ridiculous. Laughable. Stupid, even. Because any other sensible woman would ground him, marry him in a heart beat, and perhaps in another life you could see yourself with him. Having a family and a loving home, but at this moment? I’m this life? You don’t even know what the true meaning of a loving home is. You just don’t.

You’ve never had the comfort of your mothers embrace, or the comfort of your fathers protection. You’ve only ever had yourself. When you were little you’d cry yourself to sleep, you’d hug your own little body and comfort yourself the way your parents couldn’t. You didn’t have anyone to care for you, to worry about your late returns home on a night out. Your parents didn’t even have your number saved in their phone. They just didn’t care.

From a young age, you learned to fend for yourself. Cook, clean, and eventually make money to afford the things you needed, the things your own parents couldn’t provide.

The only thing you do remember, is the beatings, the way your skin would burn with every slap, whip and hit. The way you eventually stopped crying for them to stop, or the way your teenage self would wash away the blood or cover up the bruises. You knew all about that. You knew all too well how the rage in your fathers eyes was the only sense of comfort or attention you’ve ever gotten from him, the way your mother would grab onto your skin and dig her nails in, the way she’d scream and insult you and wish upon your death, that was the only touch of ‘love’ you’ve ever expected from her, the only attention you’ve ever received from them was just that, abuse. Neglect and pain.

Feeling loved, cared about and needed was more than welcome, but it was also more than strange. So maybe it wasn’t understandable, why you’d get slightly uncomfortable when someone would show you love, or kindness, and why you pushed away the people closest to you when they cared and worried about you because you never actually knew what it was before, so you weren’t used to it, so you pushed them away.

It’s bizarre how you want to love someone, to care and worry about them, yet don’t know how to feel about that being returned to you. You don’t know.

You carry the scars well though, they’re fairly easy to cover up and pretend like you’ve had the most general upbringing known to humanity. It’s, amazing.

Tiredness takes over you, and you finally fall asleep. Jimin watched the calmness on your face, covering you with the blanket more and exhaling. He knew about everything, he knew. He’s seen it too, maybe that’s why he knows you so well, he kisses your forehead before leaving your apartment and leaving a note.

The difficulty of waking up in the morning never gets easier, especially when you expected a warm body next to you, except to find it empty and cold. Confusion taking over your face as you roll out of bed, throwing on whatever first lands in your hands.

Your concern gets even worse when you notice the small letter on your kitchen counter, labelled Jimin.

You know better than to continue wasting time, I know you can never love me the way I’ve loved you for years, but within these years, I’ve learned that our souls are intertwined anyway, because I know exactly what you need, what you crave and what hurts you. I know it all in an instant. It’s almost like my body needs it too, and right the second I met him, I knew. I knew you were madly in love with him, I knew then, I had no chance. So within my frustration, I drank, far too much and let my mouth run. I am sorry. I know I apologised already, but I truly am sorry. You didn’t deserve it. I’ll move on eventually, I’ll learn to love someone else, like I’ve learned to keep your eyes staring into mine somewhere In the back of my mind, like I’ve learned to desensitise the scent of your hair away from my senses, or the need to feel your soft skin against my fingers. I’ve learned to love you from a distance, to care and appreciate you as much as I can because I knew that eventually, you’d fell in love with someone, that someone not being me was hard to accept at first, but it got easier. But stop the pettiness, fix the mess and go to him, you deserve love. You deserve to be happy, so be just that.

Happy,

Jimin.

That was absolutely not what you expected first thing in the morning, or the tears in your eyes. Or the guilt your body felt knowing you were unintentionally hurting Jimin. You wish it was easier. Easier to learn to love someone you don’t crave in that way. Easier to make yourself fall in love with someone who deserves you. You wish it was easy.

But nothing in life comes easy.

No, every step and breathe you take comes with effort. With every take want and need, you have to give. For the basic essentials and human life, you have to work. All day, all night, all life. Eternally. Everything has to be earned, because nothing. Absolutely nothing, comes free.

Work. Most of the time you hate it, but recently, it’s become your favourite place. You can take your mind off of everything going on in your life, invoke your mind with something else other than him. The person who so cruelly cut a hole in your heart and stole it, put it in his pocket and let it rot. How inhumane.

The bustle of the busy streets of Seoul always comforted you in some type of way. The many lights and many different people, styles and aesthetics made you feel alive, safe and not alone in this big city. It was easy to lose yourself once you were in it, but living here for half your life proved to help you out in some way.

“Mr. Kim wants you in his office.. pronto” Hoseok hands you your coffee, clicking number 9 on the elevator and you roll your eyes.

“I swear to almighty Jesus if he just wants to stare at me for five minutes and then ask me to order him lunch I will literally murder him with my hands” you grumble, obviously not amused.

“I don’t think that’s it…” he mumbles.

Sighing you walk out in a rush once the elevator dings, nodding a thank you to Hobi for getting you the much needed coffee. Preparing yourself for anything and everything outside of Kim’s office you finally enter the door, where he stands in almighty glory, looking good as ever.

“Y/N, please take a seat” he says, and you do, sitting in front of his desk and reading the name tag ‘CEO Kim Taehyung’ in pure awkwardness as he stares at you and then a letter.

“You need a break,” he takes a sip of his coffee as if the words he just said hurt him deeply, “take it and go before I throw a fit”

Shocked and taken a back you begin to protest, “hold on, Taehyung, no”.

“It’s Mr.Kim at work dumbass, now go before I literally slap you”

“But-“

“No but’s, unless we are talking about the other type of butts” he smirks chuckling.

“Tae are you pulling a prank on me?”

“Y/NNNAAAH, be professional and call me Mr.Kim” he whines dramatically.

“Shut up before I kick you in the balls,” you grumble, “why?”

“Because you’ve worked hard and as your only other male best friend aside from Hoseok, I am adamant on you getting a break before the bags under your eyes sue me”

“Oh don’t be dramatic,” you stand from your chair scoffing, “I’m fine, now let me get back to work”

“No can do workacholic,” he sets his mug on the table, “it’s home or the security guard will kick you out… or I’ll fire you.”

Shocked and gasping quite dramatically you say, “you would never.”

“Wanna find out?” He continues threatening.

“Kim Taehyung wait till I tell your father how manipulative you are” you practically growl at him as he pushes you other the door, and before he can take his hand away from your shoulder you bite him as hard as you can.

Flinching and gasping he looks flabbergasted as you straighten your back and sway your hips on the way out, “you are insane Y/N, INSANE” he yells after you.

At the elevator, once again, you ponder what to do now. Work was like your best distraction every since everything went down, Tae did a good job helping you mould yourself together and not to mention how considerate and sweet he was during that time. Taehyung’s wife was just a replica of him, except even better because she was a woman, and understood certain matters better than him.

Regardless, you sighed, opening your messages app and clicking onto Seokjin’s contact, messaging him a short “hey, off work for a couple days, want to have dinner soon?” And locked your phone again when the elevator reached third floor.

“Jung Hoseok, you dirty little cheating work husband, I will grab your balls and tie them in a knot the next time you choose to lie to me” you squint your eyes at him as you sit at the edge of his desk, watching as he gulps a little.

“I can explain,” he offers.

“No need, tell Yoongs to leave me a free space in a couple days hmm?”

“Can’t you ring him yourself-“

“He’s your roommate Jung, please he’ll listen to you more because you’re like number one best friends brothers thingy” you sigh rolling your neck around to release the gas that’s stuck.

“You’re so sly sometimes babe” he kissed his teeth as he leaned back into his chair.

“Mmm wonder where I got that from huh?”

Rolling his eyes with a small chuckle, he runs a hand through his dark hair, “you’re lucky I love you”

“On the contrary, you’re lucky I love you” you smiled.

“Besides, why do you need yoongi?”

Silence, dead silence fell into the atmosphere and Hobi figured you out in less than three seconds, “really?”

You nodded, biting your lip “a tattoo? I mean are you sure? Like that’s permanent?”

“Hoseok I know what a tattoo is” you dead pan, “I’ve been thinking of getting one for awhile anyway…”

His eyes turn worried for a minute, as he very gently speaks, “and you’re not just acting out because of you know….. Jungkook?”

Blinking you scoff, “you’re threading on thin ice Jung,” you get off his desk, leaning over him as you stare him dead in the eyes, face too close for comfort, “no man could make me do anything.”

Once you’re a safe distance from him, he lets out a breath shuddering a little, “do you forget I am a man sometimes?”

“No,” you smile sweetly, “I love watching you squirm because of me babe”

“I’m gonna divorce you”

“Awe too bad love, work couples can’t divorce.”

“Aren’t you suppose to be going home? Should I get Taehyung?”

Mouth falling open your eyes turn into slits and Hoseok prepares himself for the mouth full he’s about to get, “I will bite you and him. I won’t hesitate Jung Hoseok, besides keep messing with me and I’ll quit, no more seeing me no more free coffee and homemade lunch bitch” you walk away with a scoff.

Hoseok rushes towards you, desperately trying to catch up, “please not the homemade lunch,”

“Pfft, good luck sucker, he’s given me a week off” you stick your tongue out like a child once the elevator dings and the doors close.

“I’ve got both because I didn’t know what to choose” you mutter cutely as you set the wine and grocery bag on the counter.

Yeji stands beside you, eyes big and bright and expression that of a mellow kitten, like a child whose sipped on the most heavenly hot chocolate, “I missed you.”

Your heart skips a beat, internally beating yourself up for neglecting her during this whole thing. You awe as you hug her tightly, the smell of her strawberry shampoo never changing, “I’ve missed you too Ji.”

“I’m sorry, he can be an asshole sometimes but he shouldn’t be able to get between us” she mutters into your hair.

Your chest tightens as you hear her sniffle, she didn’t deserve this. You shouldn’t of done this to her, made her suffer with you. You’ve been a bad friend and you can recognise that, and you feel like utter shit about it because Yeji is priceless, she’s a diamond in disguise.

“I am so so sorry Yeji, I shouldn’t have let him get between us.”

The rest of the night was spent eating junk food and consuming an unhealthy amount of wine. As SpongeBob plays in the background and you apply the tiger sheet face mask on Yejis face you begin to tell her about Seokjin and Roowon.

“Was he good looking?”

“Oh ‘Ji,” you sigh heavily, “if you’ve only seen him, he’s like an Angel. God he’s gorgeous”

“Yah thats not fair! I wanna see him now”

“I’ll try sneak a picture of him when I’ll see him for dinner?”

Just as you say that, the sound of the hallway door dinging interrupts you, and both you and Yeji exchange looks of concern.

“Ji? I’m home, I hope you have no guy over because I’ll kick him out” the sound of his voice shakes everything inside of you. Everything becomes unstable like a poorly structured building during an earthquake.

Yeji looks at you sorrowfully, “yeah im here”

“The match got rescheduled so I thought I’d surprise you,” his voice faded it out as you didn’t dare to look his way, instead choosing to look at the wooden floor as your knees raised more inward towards to your chest, as if to protect your heart.

The silence was deafening, excruciating as all three of you didn’t know what to say, and you closed your eyes briefly as you cleared your throat, “I, Um, I can go?”

“No” Yeji immediately calls out, her voice, although not loud, seemed to echo off the walls as if even the furniture in the apartment froze in place, speechless.

“I’ll stay out the way don’t worry Ji” he mutters, pecking her head quickly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Yeji looked at you full of guilt, beginning to apologise but you stopped her, “it’s not your fault, plus we’re adults Ji, we can stay in the same room without hurting each other I promise. You’ve nothing to worry about, I’m okay.”

“I didn’t know he was going to be back” she continues, full of guilt.

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s okay. He’s your brother, besides, it’s not like I hate him. I still love him Ji, he was my best friend, that’ll never go away”.

For the rest of Jungkooks evening, all he had heard was your laughter. It rang through his body like an electric shock and he regretted everything. He hated himself for letting this drag on for this long, he hated that he couldn’t be there with you, laughing and sharing jokes like usually.

He drowned himself in everything possible to avoid hearing the conversation about a guy you met and how amazing he was, he worked, listened to music, texted his friends. But nothing worked.

And as the night died down and the house was consumed with silence. He laid on his bed, reminiscing the moments were he was your best friend. He remembered the time you went strawberry picking, you were dressed in the cutest outfit imaginable, a faded pink and white checkered dress, with pink wellies. Hair tied back in a bun with a strawberry claw clip.

He remembered how you shared the entire summer together, how he thought you to swim and how excited you were to be able to go to the depths of the ocean with him. How in love he was with you in the moment, the way your big surprised eyes stared into his as he dived underneath the water and came back up behind you, the way you’d call him Kookie in the times you needed him the most.

He remembers how you hate thunderstorms. How he spent the entire night with you on your couch, letting you cuddle into him and falling asleep in his lap.

It exactly that he regrets.

He regrets that he ruined the way you felt comfortable and safe around him and now he fears you’ll never be like that again.

For what seems like hours, Jungkook tosses and turns in his bed. Huffing in slight annoyance that his brain won’t shut off. Leaving his room in a haste he enters the kitchen, stilling for a moment as he sees you sat on the kitchen island, legs kicking back and forth as if you’re in deep thought.

He felt creepy standing there watching you eat your favourite cherry chocolates, the ones that had liquor inside. He remembers how much you love them.

He couldn’t go back to his room now, that’d be too awkward, especially since you’ve locked eyes with him for a mere second through the glass of the cupboards. He cleared his throat gently, going to the fridge to get his favourite whiskey, he could feel your presence behind him and he knew you were looking but you were stubborn.

You would not be the first one to say a word, he knows that, which is why he reaches for a second glass and fills both of them, turning to you with sad eyes, his hand extends toward you, holding the glass of whiskey outward, not thinking much you take it from him, throwing the liquid to the back of your throat and sighing. He does the same.

“I’m,” he clears his tight voice, “I’m sorry”.

You say nothing, biting your lip as he continues on, “I was out of line for the things I said. I’m aware, but I couldn’t help but feel protective. I’m sorry.”

“I was only angry because I have begged you to not get disqualified because of me, but you did that despite all of my begging” you whispered, barely audible and staring ahead as he looked at the side of your face.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “I really am”.

“I know” is all you say. Not really giving him much aside from pushing the box of chocolate towards him.

“I miss you,” he mutters, “I miss having you in my life”.

Finally, as if your heart couldn’t take it, you look right into his eyes and he swears his knees buckle a little, despite your eyes looking a little sad, you smile gently at him, “I miss you too”.

“I never meant to say all those things, god Y/N, if I could go back in time” he closes his eyes. You pull on his shirt, pulling him between your legs as you hug him.

“Well you can’t,” you muffle in his chest as his arms tighten around you, “but, you can make it up to me?”.

You feel him nod as he not so sneakily sniffs your scent, “you can take Yeji out tomorrow, spend some quality time with her. She’s worried about you Kook, she needs her brother, she needs just a little bit of your time”.

He hugs you tighter, kissing your head, “I promise I will”.

You pull away, smiling gently at him as you peck his cheek, “good”.

You don’t know wether it was the buzz from the whiskey and alcohol infused chocolates, but whatever it was, it made your eyes drop to his lips. God he looked so good, hair messy and his sleeve on display. Fuck was he beautiful.

Almost like he could smell your slightly horny phase, he leans in deeper, eyes darkened a deep shade and his hand innocently laid on your waist, “you ok?” He asks.

Asshole, “yeah” your voice came out a little breathy within your whisper, and your entire aura soaked Jungkook in shudders. The way you were sat, legs spread to accommodate him between them, white shirt doing absolutely nothing to cover your perky pierced nipples.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could you.

Looking into his eyes, your lips separated, inviting him in as your noses ever so gently brushed against each other, his hooded gaze solemnly fixated on your lips, and yours on his eyes, “what are you doing to me y/n” his voice husky, whispering in your ear.

“Kiss me Jungkook” your breathing got heavier and so has his, and he shook his head gently, scoffing in denial as your lips brushed past each other.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, as he licked your earlobe, what a fucking tease, “yes Jungkook”.

Not wasting anymore time he attached his lips on yours, moving them in rhythm as he basically abused the flesh, barely giving you any time to catch your breath as he switched his head from side to side, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in closer, you could feel yourself growing wet, soaking your panties as you grabbed onto his shirt, nails digging into his skin as your hands travelled to his back, within pulling each other closer neither of you realised how close you have gotten, too immersed in the smacking of your lips as your core rubbed against his, hard and poking through his tracksuits.

You moaned right into his mouth and he swallowed it up, fuck he’d do anything for you. He’s dreamt of feeling your lips on his for years. His mouth travelled from your swollen lips to your neck, “fuck take my shirt of Kook”.

He could nut right there as you gave him all these orders, but he listened, slipping your shirt off to find your perky tits so ready for his mouth, he laid you back against the cool counter his mouth never giving up his abuse on your skin, marking nipping anywhere possible but the neck, he couldn’t be bothered to explain to his sister. He sucked bruises onto your boobs, hearing your quiet moans as he took one nipple into his mouth, twirling the pink nub with his tongue, before moving onto the other, but not before biting each nipple gently, the cold that was left on your nipples after his warm mouth worked you up even more as he trailed his kisses down your stomach, to your hips, once again sucking biting and bruising, fuck he loved your skin.

“Take your shirt of” you mumble quietly, taking your tits in your hands and rubbing the nipples in small circles, fuck he did not expect to ever see you like this. Sprawled out on his kitchen island, hands on your boobs and your panties sporting a wet patch on your clothed pussy telling him just how turned on your are right now. Shit.

His mouth latched onto your thighs before moving onto your clothes pussy, smothering his face in the warmth of it as you gasped quite loudly, smacking your hand on your mouth to keep quiet. Fuck. His tongue ran a strip from the bottom to the top, the fact that the only material keeping his tongue from touching you directly was your underwear was driving you insane.

“Kook fuck me already”

“I don’t have a condom” he said against you.

“Fuck im clean and on the pill”

“I’m clean too”

Without any more words, he helped you up, taking your panties to the side and taking his grey sweats down his legs. Fuck. His dick was hot, long and thick, tip red and oozing precum.

Fucking hell.

He ran his tip up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal before he eased gently inside you. Letting you adjust to him. You could feel him everywhere, his throbbing tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out. And fuck were you so full, so deliciously full of him. With the way you relaxed he knew you were ready, slowly and carefully moving in and out, his hand found purchase on your shoulder, pushing you down gently as he watched the way your tits bounced slowly.

The way you moaned so quietly and the way your chest heaved, fuck you were absolutely ravishing to watch. Your skin was marked by his lips everywhere, stomach littered in bruises, hips and tits too, everywhere but your neck and it looked so inviting right now, begging for him to give it the same attention, and before he could think straight, he went for it, nipping at the skin of your neck as his body leaned fully into yours, before you could even take a breath he picked up the pace, smacking his hips lewdly into yours, his balls slapping of your ass as the noise bounced around the room. The sound your lips made as your lips connected once again adding to the mix.

It was hot, it was wet and it was loud. But it felt amazing, it felt too good to stop. The way he ramming into, hitting all the right spots as you mewled underneath him, the knot in your stomach tightening at the feel of his tip abusing your cervix, but before you could release he sat you up, edging your ass to almost be off the counter before he gripped onto it and hammered himself into you, the only rational part of you hid your face in his neck, moaning as he fucked right into you, he tugged onto your hair as he leaned his forehead into yours, both of you watching the way his dick disappeared into your swollen cunt, and then it hit you, like a ton of bricks, you clenched around him, your legs twitching slightly as you came around him, your orgasm hurting in all the right ways like if you were electrocuted, you could feel it from your toes to your head.

He was close behind, his hips stilling as his dick throbbed, twitching the slightest bit before he coated your walls white. Leaning against your palms on the counter you tried catching your breath again, and before you could say anything, he was on his knees, his mouth latching onto your clit as you yelped, sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Kook I can’t”

“Yes you can baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by your pussy, “for me”

Groaning you gasped as he sucked onto your clit, twirling your sensitive nub with his tongue as he eased his finger into you, hooking it up and fucking you slowly.

The mix of mouth and finger was intoxicating the way he was making out with your pussy was sinful but you couldn’t get enough, especially not when your legs shook, your eyes teared up and his hands soothed your legs, he switched his finger and tongue, fucking you slowly with his warm tongue and drawing figure eights onto your clit and fuck you couldn’t take it.

Slapping down your hand on the counter you moaned his name as you came for the second time this night, legs shaking and chest heaving as he stood up, kissing your lower belly before he grinned above you.

“What do you say for round three in the bathroom?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: part three? I mean they haven’t resolved much except for some steamy sex? 🤭

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

[eternal-armin]

ii. SO, HOW SHOULD i begin this?

part two woo. hopefully i'll be able to catch up on this and maybe publish some other stuff now that i'm home a lot more often (yay pain and mobility issues), maybe some arcane stuff since that would be fun, branching out into my last hyperfixation again lol. i've proofread so it should be good :>

pairing : five hargreeves x male/transmasc reader [he/him pronouns]

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where : after trying and sort of succeeding to get on the hargreeves' good side, five and [y/n] try rationalizing the situation and figuring out something, anything, to do about it.

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warnings : mentions of trauma, threats [of physical violence and murder], reader is still totally exhausted because how could he not be, depression, dissociation, pain, bits of shouting, not necessarily a warning but viktor is always viktor in the multiverse because the boy deserves it okay, existentialism, philosophical nihilism, family issues.

five adjusted his clothes in the mirror. although he wouldn't be able to have a proper retirement, he could look like a retired old man, couldn't he? who would've thought that someone could get so excited for beiges and tans. he got an amused look of subtle approval from you. beyond that, it wasn't very hard to look past your façade if he was being honest, you looked hesitant; though could he blame you? there were probably millions of worlds where his family fucked you over or just straight-up killed you. and yet, you also looked too tired to care. he couldn't blame you for that, either.

he touched your shoulder again. in a flit of light, which once again made you feel horribly nauseated and woozy, you were downstairs. surprised exclamations roused from his family.

"anyone know where vanya and allison are?" five asked, glancing with narrowed eyes across the lacking table.

"nope." and after that short reply diego went back to finishing off his meal—for someone who often scarfed his meals down, he seemed to be taking his sweet time. either that or your fun conversation with five had not taken as long as you'd thought; either possibility was equally likely at this point, really.

"nuh-uh... sorry."

"not a clue, unfortunately. something wrong, tiny dancer?" klaus asked.

"well, we have a new problem."

"who's this guy?" luther pointed at you wish his thumb, not caring to cover his mouth; your nausea was worsened to see someone talking whilst eating. diego looked at you then, and you hated how his glare bore straight through your soul. he really, really didn't seem to appreciate your presence. how both of them could so willingly ignore the phrase 'we have a problem,' especially from five, was unknown to you.

"this is [y/n]. he's one of the sparrows."

you waved once to everyone. whether the sluggishness of the motion, and the weak smile which accompanied it, was due to shyness or exhaustion was incredibly murky and unclear.

"so now we're getting all buddy-buddy with the enemy? do you know how stupid that is?"

"i'm sorry, diego, did you not hear me say that we have a problem?"

"well, you say that a lot, little brother!" klaus leaned forward to see you clearer, giving you a smile. it didn't really placate your anxieties or your strong desire to run, however it was appreciated. he waved, and you again waved back politely, still feeling very... guilty for your earlier flub. it wasn't a new thing, either, and that made you feel even worse. "hello, little enemy! how do you look so young? do you use those, like, '10 years younger' face creams? i didn't know they worked that well—"

"that is not a relevant question, klaus, now can someone please tell me where allison and vanya are?"

you cleared your throat slightly. "vanya is most likely getting a haircut. allison is trying to get to claire, but she's... not going to find her." it left a bitter taste in your mouth to refer to viktor in such a disrespectful way, but you couldn't take that from him. upon receiving suspicious stares from the younger hargreeves brothers, you mumbled a quiet "maybe."

"mind telling us what the hell is going on before i deck this mini-muffin across the lobby?"

"hey, hey, do not use mini-muffin as an insult! those are beautiful things, there's nothing better than mini-muffins when you're on a bender at, like, three in the morning!" klaus got a confused and heavily judgmental look in return for that... beautiful insight.

"[y/n] has the ability to see all other timelines, so he can usually find out the most probable events. okay? good. now i need to find allison, so can one of you fetch vanya, please?"

"no, not good, and no thanks! after all we've gone through, we deserve a proper explanation!" klaus objected. after a second or two of awkward silence, and a scowling glare from five, he gave in with a curt sigh. it sounded more like a groan. the brothers looked at you; klaus was the only one to seem patient, showing the approval of a parent understanding a kid's fear of giving a speech; luther stared at you with a puzzling mix of intrigue and subtle impatience; and diego stared at you with a raised eyebrow, leaning his head in slightly as if to say 'i'm waiting.' five's glare, although still quite characteristic, was a bit softer when aimed at you. you could never feel more put on the spot.

"you've gotta say something, little man, we can't read your mind," klaus encouraged.

"well, uh... i don't know exactly what it is yet, but something is wrong."

"aren't you omniscient or some shit? you can see literally every reality!"

the shouting scared you quite a bit and certainly made your headache worse. you put one of your hands to your head, mumbling, wishing you could just get some painkillers. if only five had given them back.

"don't shout, for fuck's sake," five grumbled, annoyed in his own right.

"i'm not omniscient. if no other worlds know something, then i can't, and... no other world knows yet. but something is wrong." your quiet voice was juxtaposed to diego's, still loud and stubborn like back in the academy. around 79.4 percent of every single alternate world which had diego in it found him like this, angry and short-tempered; it was very interesting. "you aren't supposed to be here. you guys, as you are, don't exist here. i don't think reality appreciates you showing up all of a sudden. and if versions of yourselves already exist in this world, then something will need to... iron out the wrinkles, i guess." you pursed your lips for a second. "not to be too brash or anything, but, to really, really dumb it down, you're a mis—you're mistakes."

"seriously? five, i thought you said that this timeline would be safe to stay in." luther looked like a scolded puppy. you felt bad. he was far too sweet—naive? yes, naive—for this kind of life.

"yes, that's what i thought, but second opinions are pretty valuable in my line of expertise. turns out it was sorely needed." his brows pricked up a few times while he spoke. "but, like you said before, it may be a problem we can solve."

diego remained, unsurprisingly, unswayed. "you better not be including this wad of chewed gum in that 'we,' five."

"what is with you and insulting him? he wants to help. jesus christ."

"last time i checked, his entire family just kicked our asses out of our own house, i have a right to be pissed, and he's lucky i'm in no killing mood."

"i don't agree that he should be killed," luther began in solidarity, "but we have a reason not to trust him, right?"

you took a little breath and exhaled it in a quiet sigh. "i know my family can be... extreme. and bad sometimes. trust me. and i totally understand how you can be angry with them and with me and think that i'm not honest. but i never hurt anyone, and i want to help you guys. you're eccentric yourselves, but usually you're good people. you're, like, an actual family," you added, trailing off, "not a group forced to stay together for monetary gain."

five squinted at you slightly. was that one of the reasons you chose not to grow up? you couldn't be associated with the sparrows if you were half their age. throw on a pair of sunglasses and nobody could recognize you.

jeez. didn't that sound nice.

"you guys really deserve a place to rest. a stable place to live, even. and if we can figure this out, then maybe you won't have to live in constant fear of coming into contact with your doppelganger or something. live, like, normal lives. as normal as they can be, anyway."

diego, much to your surprise, seemed to listen to what you were saying. sure, he still looked quite ticked-off and impatient, but you couldn't really ask for too much from him, could you?

"and you're sure that this is a problem we can actually solve? for good?"

"i'm not exactly sure what the problem even is yet. all i know is that something is wrong. but every problem has a solution, even if it seems impossible sometimes." there was a twinge of sage, melancholic hopelessness somewhere in there, some subtle disbelief. "five is quite the expert in timelines and time travel-related problems and paradoxes, and i'm an expert in alternate realities and manipulating reality itself. if anyone can figure it out, i'm sure we can. and i have no doubt that all of you will also play large parts."

luther's face was screwed into an expression of brazen confusion. "so... we're, like, completely blind, and need to fight an enemy we know absolutely nothing about."

"pretty much," you mumbled.

"surprisingly poetic way to put that, luther, i'm impressed," five mused rather sarcastically. "unfortunately, however, it seems we're gonna have to do something terrible and unprecedented." perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to quell his own annoyances, he paused and sighed out a breath. "we're going to have to work together." he did not need to specify the parties specified in 'together.'

"well, personally, i think this is a splendid idea. perfect opportunity for family bonding, i'd say! we're surrounded by decent chinese food and competent beds and cable television. decent music, too! and diego can finally figure out some self-discipline by not constantly threatening to kill [y/n]! marvelous idea little ones." admittedly, klaus's unique way of talking and gesturing was quite calming to you. you were very grateful for him. oddly enough—maybe you should've stopped saying that when it came to the umbrellas—klaus seemed to be that pillar of tranquility for you. viktor as well.

"calm down, calm down. you know that he won't turn against us or whatever? you're sure?"

the question was directed at five but you answered for him. "i'm not strong and i've never been in good health. even christopher, without his powers, would be better at fighting you than i would."

"the fucking cube?" you nodded. he plastered a grin over a pouting scowl. he sighed, giving into the plan. perhaps some remaining distrust still lingered, however, he could deal with it. "we've gotta clue allison and vanya in now. i'll go get vanya."

"finally," five huffed, shaking his head. "i'm going to find allison. you said she's going to try and find claire? i'll go to her old house." and then, the next second, he was gone. a few seconds of... incredibly awkward silence passed, where luther was staring at you whole-heartedly.

"go on and take a seat, young whipper-snapper. do you have any dietary restrictions? or allergies? we've probably got something here you can eat, if you want."

you had asked to walk back home with five.

"why with me?" "it's a little bit selfish, but i really don't want to be alone right now, and you're the number one person i trust right now." "flattering," he muttered. "then why walk?" "i think better when i walk."

admittedly, walking was taxing for you right now, so it may not have been your brightest idea, but after this entire day you needed a nice break; the picturesque city sunset was nice, the breeze was subtle and sweet, and it smelled like food out there on the streets. viktor had offered to talk with marcus and try to make a deal; you'd asked him to be very, very careful. "i don't know if purposely seeking out the anomaly would be more effective, or if allowing it to reveal itself would be better. maybe we should seek it out."

five nodded slightly. "allowing it to reveal itself could mean that it becomes too powerful to stop."

"that's kind of what i was thinking. we don't know how it would reveal itself. what if it destroys something, or changes something? what if it hurts people?" your voice was quieter with that last proposition. it was the worst possible option in your mind; buildings could be rebuilt. changes could be undone, with enough time and patience. but people could not be undamaged, and they could not be brought back to life.

well, not permanently, anyway.

five's pace slowed a bit and he peered at you, strangely, for a moment. you avoided his eyes.

"surprisingly enough, i don't think this is the... worst outcome." "forgive me but i don't really believe you. we've got jack all on either side. essentially, we're alone." "you're used to it, five." "hmph. and you aren't?" "not in this way, i guess." there was more he wanted to say but you would not give him the opportunity to dig too deep. "there are worlds where your family is on board. trusts me, even, after some convincing. and there are also some where we narrow the options down. i'd love to be in one of those. but at least we aren't at each other's throats again, or diego's choking me to death." your voice soured. if you got too close, you could feel that pain. there your mind went then, trying to save your other selves out of some ethereal desperation you could never claw yourself away from.

"ow!" you hissed, clapping a hand to your neck where it had stung, sharp and sudden. "what was that?"

"you were seriously so spaced out you didn't see me?" five asked, though it barely sounded like a question. he sounded just barely concerned. you had looked like a glove without a hand. "jeez," he scoffed, shaking his head. "did you see anything helpful, at least? anything at all?"

your mind was still seared and shattered across uncountable realities and he could see that struggle to ground in your eyes. hear it in your breath. you had little mental fortitude left to respond. "sorry? can you repeat that?"

five didn't roll his eyes. unfortunately, he knew dissociation. he carefully took your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles like he'd seen you do before, and that seemed to give you... some amount of usable energy. it was also sort of difficult not to notice him, of all people, doing it, even while he sported an expression of general distaste for the situation; you couldn't tell if it was falsified or not. slowly, you were returning to your body, and it felt heavier than ever before. "what did you see?" he repeated, just as you asked, meticulously annunciating each word and using a decent pace.

you nodded slightly. "i saw a few other timelines. less fortunate ones." you didn't need to elaborate for five to understand what you were referring to. the broad strokes, anyway. "nothing really useful, though," you added after a second in total defeat.

"shit. well, that's alright." and though it clearly wasn't, you didn't say anything.

"how long have we been standing here?"

"... a minute or two."

"oh, great," you mumbled, shaking your head to yourself. your record was around two hours, sure, but it still sucked. "the... we should seek it out."

"wow. you remembered."

"we were having the same conversation a whole lot. given i was still alive and actually grew to trust you." it was a half-joke but it succeeded in getting a bare grin out of five. "we can't risk hurting other people."

"or destroying something," five added.

"or destroying something," you agreed, then furrowing your brow slightly. a cafe nearby was playing pleasant music; that was something keeping you tethered to this world in particular, as if five wasn't enough, but even he was quiet sometimes. "the only problem is we don't know where it is."

"or what it looks like. if it even looks like something at all. it could very well be invisible or incomprehensible." he scowled for a second, though not out of irritation, thinking rather loudly to himself. "we should start where we appeared, i think." you nodded in agreement. "if your... 'family' decides to work with us, all of us, then we can search a whole lot more. but we should get the basics out of the way."

"the beginning is always the most logical place to start."

"quaint way to put it, did you write the sound of music in another universe?"

"what part about 'literally any possible, feasible universe' do you not understand?" you joked, managing a small smile of your own, and five would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bit relieved to see you humoring yourself again.

"i deserve that." he paused for a second. "i know you said that walking helps you think, and you definitely need to do that more, but you look like a dead man standing right now. i'd rather just drop you off at the academy and get back to my own family. are you okay to teleport?" you did not respond at first, taking careful account of how you felt and how you may feel after. eventually, and rather subtly, you nodded.

"my room is klaus's old room back in your universe."

"wow, that... makes it easier. safer, probably." that was the closest you were going to get to 'thank you' so you took it. you shut your eyes tight and breathed deep through that half-second nausea-bomb. you were happy to see your room when you opened your eyes; smelling like home, looking like home, feeling like pure comfort. five glanced about your room. somehow it looked exactly like what he expected from you, which was a compliment. it was cozy. well-lived—especially the bed. there were many blankets and pillows and a few stuffed animals, unmade, probably because you barely left it. he couldn't blame you, either.

looking at you, you seemed totally relieved and excited to be back home.

"are you going to let go of my hands now?"

five stiffened for a second, mumbling a hushed apology before letting go, shoving his hands in his pockets. you couldn't help but grin a little, tiredly, and he scoffed when he saw it. "don't look at me like that. i was helping you ground, since you evidently can't do it yourself sometimes." not that he could blame you, really. he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be... you.

you ignored the jab. "i'm surprised you're willing to wait to take care of this," you mumbled, hanging up your scarf and sweater, lazily rifling through your dresser to find something decently comfortable to pass out in. "you always insisted on getting things done quick. if not immediately."

"i'm desperate for one damn moment of peace. the world isn't being decimated just yet. i just want to sleep decently for once."

you smiled slightly. no one could work while exhausted, especially not when it came to your quandary. "go on and sleep then. i'll meet you at the obsidian again tomorrow."

"yeah. oh, uh, just remembered something. close your eyes for a few seconds."

"why?"

"just do it."

you scoffed, though without any sort of animosity or annoyance, shutting your eyes tight like he told you to. you heard the familiar sound of his blinking once, twice. "alright. you can look. here." he held out to you your bottle of painkillers. "nearly forgot to give them back."

"oh, sh—thank you." the relief on your face was quite plain and sort of comforting as well. he mustered a slight hum in response.

"good night."

"night, five. sleep well."

"hmph. we'll see."

[avelera]

Ok just because I'd never write it because Human/No Powers Modern AU is not my thing, but I find the thought exercise interesting, here's a bit more about how Giving Sanctuary would work if it was a modern, no powers dreamling AU (copied from a Discord I'm on):

The THING IS, I am somewhat charmed by the idea of Modern AU Giving Sanctuary ONLY because re-translating the historical dynamics to be clearer to a modern viewer of like... what EXACTLY Dream disdained about Hob, would be such a treat??

Like in a historical setting, you can tell Hob's being a bit gauche in 1589 but that's kind of it for visual cues? But just.... imagine Dream in his black turtleneck and designer coat, hosting an event at his art gallery, and then this fucking Chad that his sister made him set up with a job interview ages ago, that he expected to fail out because he's a jock and an idiot, shows up in a fucking golf polo and a fancy but extremely visible Rolex he won't stop showing off to Dream and like... just the worst kind of new money sleaze oozing out of every pore and he won't stop snacking on the hors d'oeuvres and trying to offer some to Dream while talking with his mouth full because he thinks they're buddies, somehow and he keeps talking about the latest deal he closed to bring in millions to his company yeah they're gonna put him on Fortune magazine, not the front cover, but there is a page about him!

And this guy Hob, he keeps trying to shove pictures of his supermodel wife and sticky infant son at Dream at this arts event and finally Dream will literally do anything to get away from this guy and talk to the art school student who is actually talking about looking for his big break (And little does he know, Hob actually was trying to thank Dream for putting him in a place to be this successful because Hob came from poverty and there was no way he'd ever have reached this point without that lucky break of meeting Dream and yeah, he lacks manners but he's stupidly proud of what he accomplished and has no idea what he did wrong, he was trying to compliment Dream on the hors d'oeuvres??)

And if you make this purely human AU (not a genre I like to write but I find the thought exercise of updating a story interesting) 1689 would be caused by like.... Hob in a car accident with his pregnant wife and his kid Robyn, Hob's the only survivor. He gets addicted to pain meds during the recovery, is found at fault for the accident so no insurance money/the legal bills eat up everything else, he's fired, addicted, was already living lavishly and depending on the next big deal to pay for it all so goes bankrupt quickly, falls and falls and falls.

Anyway, Hob and Dream have this standing agreement to meet up once a year or every five years, at the same dive bar where Death introduced them in like college or something, and Hob gets there and y'know, updated 1689 meeting, he's a mess, he's homeless, he can't seem to get out of his own way, but the subject of his son's death comes up (again, for a GS update) and somehow Dream mentions he got married when he was like 18 or 20 to another artist, they had a son, no one in their families supported them because they said they were too young, their son died and his wife left him and his life fell apart and he's buried himself in work since but never really healed and no one ever really seemed to understand what he went through because most of his peers had never even had a serious relationship by the time he was divorced and had lost a child at like 22, like people freaking complimented him on being a single man again if they didn't know about the death.

And for the first time ever he tells this to Hob and instead of saying "Why did you get married so young??" Hob just... asks him if he's ok. Over a decade later. The first person to actually understand that Dream never really recovered.

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Thirty-Four: The Piggyback

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 5,826 Warnings: squint for fluff, angst, canon violence, liv being indecisive but go with it, buggy = shopping cart in southern terms, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! I can't believe we're one chapter away from the end until Season 5 comes out! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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When Steve found a spot under a tree to park the RV, Nance immediately jumped into action telling us the plan that we’ve heard a million times already. The only few things on my mind was hoping that Max was gonna be okay in the end, Dustin being safe and not getting hurt, and Steve living so that I can kiss him stupid the rest of our lives.

But all of that being on my mind didn’t stop Nancy from saying, “Okay. I wanna run it through one more time.”

Groaning, I said, “Nancy! We’ve gone over this a million times over.”

“Just to make sure everyone has it so that no one deviates from the plan.”

Slapping my hands on my thighs, I stood up saying, “Fine. You wanna run it over again? Fine. Phase fucking One, meet Erica at the playground across the street from the Creel house who will signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready. Phase fucking Two-”

“Max baits Vecna,” Steve interrupted.

“Which I’m not fucking okay with because he’ll put her in a trance before lifting her in the air to snap her bones,” I add. “Phase fucking Three, Dusty and Eddie will somehow distract the bats from the House, which I’m also not okay with. Phase fucking Four, we, as in myself, Steve, Robin and you, Nance, will all four go in to the House that is now bat-free, find Vecna and flambé his ass to a deeper part of hell. Oh, and Phase fucking Five, we can’t die ‘cause I gotta be able to kiss my boyfriend stupid.”

It was silent for a moment before Nancy said, “Nobody moves on to the next Phase until we’ve all copied.”

“And don’t fucking deviate, please,” I added before whispering, “For the love of God.”

“Got it?”

I walked out of the RV with my weapons in hand as everyone else repeated the words back to Nancy, Steve calling my name a couple of seconds later, his hand on my back not a moment after that.

Stopping my steps, I took a deep breath, releasing it before he asked, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“I’m just scared,” I whispered. “And nervous, and anxious, and terrified… petrified!... worried as hell about Max. She’s been through so much in the last 8 months.”

“And you’ve been there for her every step of the way,” he replied, placing his hand on my cheek lovingly.. “You’re like the big sister she never had.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Dustin called out.

Steve and I sighed at the same time, chuckling softly once we realized it. Grabbing my hand to lace our fingers, he said, “Come on. Let’s go kick Vecna’s ass.”

“Gladly.”

We made our walk to Eddie’s trailer, stopping about halfway to place a quick kiss on each other’s lips. Steve walked into the trailer first, turning on the lights and placing his bag on the ground. I walked in after, followed by Nancy, Robin, Dustin and Eddie.

“Be careful,” Dustin said.

“Thanks, buddy,” Steve said. Looking at me for a quick moment, he said, “I love you” before giving me the quickest kiss he’s ever given me before grabbing the sheet, saying, “Here goes nothing” before he hoisted himself up the sheets into the Gate and down - well, I guess up in this case - into the Upside Down by doing some sort of flipping motion before landing on his feet.

He looked up at us, as we did him, before he walked away as Robin sarcastically said, “Ohhhhhh! What does he want us to do, applaud?”

He came into view with a mattress for a landing pad. “Let’s go.”

I dropped my own bag, grabbing the sheet when Nancy grabbed it at the same time. Looking at her with raised brows, I said, “Uhm, I’m going next.”

“Well, I’m in charge of this whole operation,” she replied.

“Babe, let’s go,” Steve said.

I saw her twitch ever so slightly before I shook my head and let go. She hoisted herself up, flipping to land on her back on the mattress. Robin and I looked at each other for a split second before she squatted a little, fingers laced with her palms up. A hand on my back had me looking at who touched me; Eddie, moving to stand opposite of Robin in the same stance.

“Come on, Liv,” Eddie said.

I moved to stand in between Eddie and Robin, putting my foot into Eddie’s hands, releasing a deep breath before looking at the sheet in front of me, saying, “This better be like fucking gym class.”

Robin and Eddie snickered as I grabbed the sheets, feeling them move in sync to stand, helping to hoist me up the sheets before I entered the Gate, my hair that was once below me now above me. “Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.” I closed my eyes as I dropped, feeling another body collide with mine. “Feet, ass or face?”

“Neither,” Steve chuckled. 

I opened my eyes quickly to see what he was talking about, and the sight had me swooning. Somehow in between my climbing the sheets and dropping, Steve had moved to stand on the mattress, catching me as I fell from letting go of the sheets. “I think I just fell in love with you even more if that’s at all possible.”

He kissed me as he placed me on my feet, both of us getting off the mattress before mine, his and Nancy’s bags landed before us.

Eddie was the next human to drop down before his shield was dropped, Robin and her gear dropping before the rest of Dustin and Eddie’s gear dropped, my brother being the last human to hit the mattress. He looked a little disoriented for a moment before Eddie and Steve helped him up.

Nancy, Robin, Steve, myself, Dustin and Eddie all exited the trailer… in that order, before I turned around and said to Eddie and Dustin, “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you fucking abort.” I looked at Dustin, saying, “Got me? Abort mission.”

“Draw the attention of the bats,” Steve added. “Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna.”

“Being cute or fucking heroes or shit isn’t gonna work here,” I said. “This isn’t a board game. This is the real freakin’ deal. Okay? I’m sorry to say that you’re-”

“Decoys,” Dustin said. “Don’t worry. Steve, here, can be the hero.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. “I mean, look at us. We are noooooooot heroes.” He softly chuckled.

I pulled Dustin into a hug, one that he immediately returned. “Please be safe, Dusty. Mom and I can’t lose you,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he whispered back. 

I pulled back from the hug, turning to Eddie to give him one as well as I whispered, “Please keep him safe.” I pulled back, placing my hands on his cheeks. “I need you to be safe, as well, Munson. Dustin and I can’t lose our best friend.”

He nodded slightly before he wrapped his arms around my middle, giving me another hug. We stayed like that as he said, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

I backed away from the hug, going to Dustin to give him one more, kissing him on his forehead. “I love you, Dusty.”

“I love you, too, Liv,” Dustin replied.

“Come on, babe,” Steve said.

I turned and walked to him, our fingers entwining as we started our walk towards the woods behind the trailer park, and I honestly wasn’t sure how long we’d been walking for before I started complaining.

“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe,” I whined. “Distract me from all this walking. My feet hurt.”

Robin answered my call by saying, “Uh… I don’t mean to freak anyone out, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”

“Don’t say that, Robs.”

“That’s impossible,” Nancy said.

“That would suck if we did,” I said.

“If Vecna destroyed the world because… ‘cause we got lost in the woods?” Robin said.

“Robin Buckley, you stop it,” I said, a little sternly.

“We’re not lost, Robin,” Nancy replied to her.

Robin started chuckling as she walked off, Nancy following behind her saying, “Robin, hey. Watch out for the vines! Hive mind.”

That left Steve and I by ourselves, which was very nice. I sighed deeply while resting my head on his shoulder as we followed after Nancy and Robin, our steps a little bit more slower than theirs.

“Don’t worry about Robin,” Steve said. “She’s just stressed.”

“Scared,” I breathed. Looking up at him, I smiled softly. “I know. It’s just… she’s super klutzy.”

“So are you,” he chuckled. 

“But I’m not as bad as she is,” I said, smiling up at him.

“When you’re extremely tired, yes you are.”

“Well, at least I didn’t crawl backwards when I was a baby.”

“Always in reverse,” he said.

“Not always.”

“You push to move, right? I mean, it makes sense.”

“Not really,” I chuckled.

He let go of my hand for a moment before putting his arm around my neck, letting his hand dangle by my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his middle, being careful of the ax on his back.

“Well, it did to my little Harrington brain,” Steve said. “That is until I reversed my baby butt down a flight of stairs and thumped my head really good.”

I chuckled, resting the back of my head on his arm. “You never told me that!”

“I didn’t?” he asked. “Hm. Thought I did.”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head lightly. “But that explains a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it kinda does,” he replied, kissing the side of my head. “I think, like, right of the gate, like, I’m super confident, ya’know, but I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just… like, it’s a brutal combination.”

“No you’re not,” I said, looking up at him.

“But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, ya’know. I can… learn. I can… crawl forward.” He was quiet for a moment before he said, “Listen, I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, uhm…” He stopped walking, which made me stop walking to look up at him since I had looked at the ground to watch for vines. He cupped my cheek causing me to lean into it as he said, “Is thank you.”

“Thank me?” I said, softly. “For what?”

“For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago. I needed it.”

With furrowed brows, I followed the pattern on his shirt that I could see in this darkness, thinking of when I gave him that thump two years ago when it somewhat hit me. “The night we were in the junkyard because we were baiting Dart?”

“That night changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward.” He kissed my forehead, a smile on his face as he looked at me for a moment before walking away. “Slowly. I just wonder sometimes…”

I started walking after him, easily catching up to him as he continued, “ya’know if… some other girl had given a proper thump when we weren’t talking or hanging out.”

“When you became King Steve?” I asked. 

He sighed, sharply. “Yeah. Would things have been different? Would we be together today?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, softly with sadness lacing my voice. “I’d honestly be in jail most likely. I think you gave me a thump.” It was quiet for a moment before I said, “Sometimes I think that if we’d be meeting for the first time right now, like, a part of me… a part of me thinks we wouldn’t be where we are today. Together.”

“In love?” he asked, stopping his steps to look at me.

I looked at him, all the love and adoration for him in my eyes. “Yeah. In love.”

“You remember the dream I told you about?”

“The migraine of six lil’ nuggets, yes.”

“It’s all true. Every last word, but there’s one very important detail I left out. The most important part.”

“What’s that?” I asked, resting my hands on his chest as his hand came to rest on my cheek again.

“You’re there,” he said. He rested his forehead against mine, sighing. “You’ve always been there.”

Tears filled my eyes as I pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. We were leaning towards each other, our lips about to meet before Robin’s voice came through as she made her way toward us.

“Hey, guys!”

I sighed, then whispered, “She’s such a cockblocker.”

“You guys! Awesome news!” She stopped to catch her breath. “Looks like we weren’t going the wrong way after all.” She turned away from us, going back the way she came.

“Come on!” Nancy said.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” I breathed. Looking back up at Steve, I couldn’t help but smile. I pressed my lips against his, feeling him kiss me back immediately. When we pulled apart, I looked deep into his eyes. “We’ll finish that later.”

Turning to walk towards the direction that Robin and Nancy went, Steve grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers once again before bringing my hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to my hand. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

We made our way through the woods to the edge, making our way down a very small hill, the Upside Down version of the Creel house in front of us, demobats surrounding the top of it. I looked over to my right, seeing a small ball of light, my face lighting up with relief as I whispered, “Erica.”

~~~

We had successfully moved to the playground before I put my hand inside the ball of light, hopefully brightening up Erica’s flashlight. We got confirmation when she said, “Okay, the lovebirds have copied. Max is moving into Phase Two: Distracting Vecna.”

“I’m still not okay with it,” I said.

“We’re not even at the hardest part yet,” Steve said.

Nancy looked at the house, taking a few steps towards it before I heard her softly say, “Take the bait, you son of a bitch. Take… the bait.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling Steve’s hands on my arms, rubbing up and down. I looked at him as he whispered, “She’ll be okay.”

It seemed like forever before Erica’s voice came back through, scaring the shit out of me. “Okay, she’s in. Initiate Phase Three.”

Robin hit the button on the walkie talkie that Lucas had given her to use, saying into the mouthpiece, “She’s in. Move on to Phase Three.”

“Copy that,” Dustin said. “Initiating Phase Three.”

I heard faint guitar playing, my metal heart happy as we hid under the rocket. “Fuck yes, Munson,” I whispered as the bats flew overhead. I knew exactly what the song was, it being one of my newest favorites.

“Okay, it’s working,” Nancy said.

“Of course it’s working,” I said. “It’s freaking metal music.”

“Let’s go.”

We crawled out from under the rocket before I stopped for a moment, raising my hand in the air, index finger and pinky lifted in the rock on symbol. “Rock on, Munson.”

“Liv, come on,” Steve said.

I put my hand down, running to catch up with him and the girls to walk across the street to the Creel house. Steve opened the door and entered first, always putting himself in front of the danger. 

He pointed his flashlight down on the floor, vines slithering everywhere.

“Oh, shit,” he and I said. “That’s not good.”

He looked back at me for a second before looking back in front of him, ready to make a move. 

I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Wait. Remember when we were walking along the tracks to the old junkyard with Dustin?” He nodded his head, so I continued my explanation, smiling. “Except, I wasn’t in the middle of the tracks like you and Dusty were. I was on the metal part of the track. Balancing.”

Placing a kiss on his cheek, I looked at him and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I got this.” Looking in front of me, I picked a good spot to start at where there weren't any vines. I did this until I reached the stairs, where I did it again until I was at the landing, Steve and the girls following my exact movements. I only knew that because if they hadn’t followed my exact steps, we’d all be toast.

I saw flashing red coming from where the attic is, and I immediately saw the color in my own eyes, angry with this creature for putting our Max in harm's way. I heard rustling behind me, so I looked to see what the commotion was; Steve taking Nancy’s shortened shotgun from her bag before he took his ax from his.

Not two seconds after I turned back to face the stairs to the attic, what felt like an earthquake hit, sending me flying back into Steve, Nancy and Robin.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” I whispered as Steve tried to balance us, Nancy and Robin doing the same. Once it was over, I was breathing a little heavy, Steve’s arm around my middle, keeping me steady.

I stepped away for a minute to regain my breathing some more before I heard squelching below me. I looked down, seeing a couple of the vines wrap around my ankles. “Shit.” I was thrust backwards towards the wall, my back slamming against it. Everything else happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think about my arms being tied up by the vines. I locked eyes with Steve, yelling his name. “Nance! Robin!”

Steve was the first to jump into action, swinging and chopping at the vines that had me basically pinned to this wall, Nancy and Robin pulling and hitting the vines to try and loosen them up a little.

Steve was the next one to get strung up high on the same wall as me, him grabbing at the vine around his neck before the vines put his arms against the wall. Nancy and Robin being the last two to be strung on the wall opposite Steve and I.

I saw the vines going around Nancy and Robin’s necks, feeling them along mine as well. My eyes started to close at their own will, my oxygen almost ceasing to exist until the vines loosened on my neck, wrists, ankles and stomach. I dropped to the ground, coughing and breathing deep to revive my oxygen levels. 

Watching as the vines seemed to be called away, a hand landed on my back as I attempted to get my breathing back to normal. I looked at who was touching me, glad to see that it was Steve.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hoarsely.

“Well, considering alternate dimension vines just about killed me, I’d say I’m pretty far alright,” I said, hoarsely.

“I don’t believe in a higher power or divine intervention,” Robin said, her voice hoarse. “But that was a miracle.”

I stood up with Steve’s help, turning to face the attic door. “I do believe in higher power, so let’s not waste that miracle.” Stepping in front of the group, my eyes never faltered from the attic door. “Let’s go kill that son of a bitch and send his fucking ass back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Nancy cocked her shotgun before Steve breathed out, “Phase Four.”

“Flambé,” Robin said.

I lead the group up the stairs to the attic, anger filling me at the sight of Vecna being strung up by vines with his arms out and palms up. I breathed out an angry breath before I whispered, “There’s that ugly son of bitch.”

Nancy, Steve, myself and Robin stood in front of Vecna, looking at him for a moment. I looked up at Steve, and he at me before we both looked at Robin, ready to flambé this son of a bitch.

Steve put his bottle in front of me after I took a small step back so as to not be in the literal line of fire. After Robin had lit the cloth up, I put my hand on Steve’s upper arm, his eyes looking into mine as I whispered, “Don’t miss.” “I won’t,” he whispered back. He and I, as well as Robin, looked back at Vecna before I stepped closer to Robin right before Steve brough his arm back to toss the homemade molotov at this monster in front of us, the glass bottle flying through the air. 

The bottle hit Vecna, sending him into flames, the heat causing me to cower back a little, eyes closed. The vines burned off his back, sending him to the ground. 

Robin lit her cocktail before hurling it at him, the four of us cowering just a little from the new heat it emitted. Nancy took that as go time as she started to shoot at Vecna, each hit of her bullets sending him backwards. He turned around and yelled at us, Nancy sending one more shot at the creature, sending him flying backwards out of the window and down to ground below.

I wanted to see this ugly bastard dead for myself, so I turned tail and ran straight out of the house, Robin, Nancy and Steve all three following behind me. Once we made it outside, anger filled me again as the spot where I knew Vecna landed… was empty with the exception of a few little spots of fire.

“What the fuck?” I breathed. I looked at all three of them, breathing heavily. “The cocktails and bullets should’ve killed him. Where the hell did he go?”

I got my answer in the form of the clock inside starting its chiming. “Fuck,” I whispered, turning around and going back into the house. My emotions were on high alert as I counted each chime. “One. Two. Three. Four.” As the fourth one faded out, tears were gathering in my eyes as I realized what that meant. “Max.”

To say I was upset would be an understatement. The earthquake-like rumble hit again, Steve’s arm going back around my waist to keep me steady as my hands went to Nancy’s arms to keep her steady as we all stumbled towards the post of the staircase.

Once that was done and over with, I pushed off Steve and made my way outside, tears streaming down my face. 

“Liv,” Steve said. “Babe, wait!”

“No!” I screamed, turning back to face him. “I told you that letting her be the bait was a horrible idea, and did any of you listen? No!” I walked up to him, hitting his chest as I said, “You all let her be the bait and now she’s dead!”

He grabbed my wrists before wrapping his arms around me tightly, trapping my arms between the two of us as I continued my sobs, “She’s dead. Max is dead!”

~~~

Once we had made our way back to Eddie’s trailer, I saw Dustin sitting on the ground with Eddie’s body, our eyes connecting as my brother yelled out my name. I quickly ran over to him, seeing blood coming from Eddie’s mouth.

He looked up at me, smiling a little. “Hey, female Henderson.”

“Liv, the bats,” Dustin breathed.

Looking from Dustin back to Eddie, I said, “You’re not fucking dying, Munson. Do you hear me?” I looked at Steve and the girls, saying, “Come over here and help me pick him up.”

“How are we gonna get him through the Gate?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out.”

Steve, Robin and Nancy were at my side in a second when Dustin tried standing up, a pained cry coming from his mouth. They somehow managed to get Eddie up on his feet while I helped Dustin up.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Fell on the floor coming back through the Gate to get to Eddie,” Dustin said. “I was in our Hawkins when I climbed back through.”

“Damn it, Dustin,” I breathed. By the grace of God, I got him inside and up the sheets. I hadn’t realized that Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie were all in our Hawkins until I heard my name being called from Eddie’s room.

Walking in his room, I saw the amount of pain he was in, just like Steve was. Quickly jumping into action, I searched the trailer for antiseptic wipes, gauze and tape. As Eddie grunted in pain, I decided to distract him a little bit.

“That was a pretty metal concert you put on in there,” I said.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Oh, hell yeah! Master of Puppets by Metallica? Pretty fucking metal.”

Eddie and I talked about metal music the entire time I worked on dressing his wounds. Looking at his neck as I went to clean it up a bit, I lightly chuckled. “You and Steve are gonna be wound twins.”

He was confused for a moment before he, too, lightly chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Ya’know, he’s not a bad guy. Steve. He’s not so bad.”

“But wasn’t he, like, a dick to you?”

I shrugged. “Came with his newfound popularity. I got used to it. Once all this shit started happening when Will went missing, we kind of… I don’t know, I guess we found each other again.”

“All of this has happened before with the alternate dimension?” 

“The Upside Down? Yeah.” I proceeded to tell Eddie everything from the Demogorgon in ‘83, the Mind Flayer possessing Will, as well as Dart in ‘84, the Russians and the Mind Flayer again last year in ‘85, and now this whole thing with Vecna.

He was quiet for a while, everything processing. Once everything was processed, he nodded his head with a slight smile on his face. “Right on.” The smile slowly diminished once he realized the severity of it all.

Since Eddie couldn’t stay at his trailer because of the manhunt still going on for him, we had to find a safe place for him to stay. I guess that place ended up being mine and Dustin’s house.

Eddie, Steve, myself and Dustin walked into the house, Mom freaking out because of Eddie.

“Mama!”I said, following her to the phone. I placed it back on its hook once I took it from her hand. “Mama, listen to me. He’s not a murderer. He didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“Then what happened, Livvie?” Mom asked.

“I can’t tell you, but just know that he didn’t do it, okay? I promise.”

Mom and I looked at each other, her eyes coming to an understanding. She nodded at me before looking at Eddie. “Since Livvie’s gonna be staying with Steve at his house tonight, you can take her room.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Henderson,” Eddie said.

“Please,” she said, walking up to him to cup his cheeks in that motherly way. “Call me Claudia… or Mom.”

I could see the tears start to form in his eyes as he nodded his head. He looked at me before I gestured with my head for him to follow me. I led him into my room, letting him take it all in.

“Now, Dustin’s room is across the hall if you’d rather sleep in there on his bed,” I said. “He can take the floor. Uhm… don’t touch my landline, don’t open my drawer, but everything else is fair game.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, smiling a little before he said, “Livvie.”

“If you weren’t demobat chow, I’d punch you in the gut.”

He chuckled before closing his eyes in pain. He sat down on my bed as I walked out of my room, going to the bathroom to retrieve our first-aid kit. 

“It’s not much,” I said, coming back into my room. “But it’ll-” I looked at him, seeing him laying on my bed, fast asleep. The corner of my mouth lifted before I set the supplies on my nightstand. Walking out of my room, I cracked my door before moving into the living room.

Dustin, Mom and Steve looked at me before I nodded. “I think he’ll be fine. He’s asleep now.” Looking at Dustin, I said, “Please keep an eye on him. Make a pallet in my room or whatever, I don’t care. You’re on Eddie watch tonight.”

He nodded as I pulled him into a hug. I kissed his forehead once we pulled apart, Mom engulfing the both of us into a family hug. When I pulled away from that hug, I went over to Steve, who was standing at the door. 

We left my house and went straight to his, where we took a joint shower, just holding each other for a moment before I carefully cleaned his own wounds from being demobat chow. We washed each other's hair like we always did before we both got out of the shower, towel drying off before putting on our pajamas and climbing into bed… after brushing our hair, of course.

As we laid there in each other's arms, a tear fell from the corner of my eye. I didn’t bother to wipe it away as I sniffled. “When is shit gonna go back to normal?” I whispered. “I want a normal life again where we don't have to worry about the world ending.”

Steve held me tighter in arms as I sobbed quietly. “I know, baby,” he whispered back. 

“Stupid fucking Vecna,” I sobbed. I didn’t know how long I cried for, or how long Steve and I slept for. It was dark when I went to sleep and it was light when I woke up. Steve was coming out of his bathroom when I sat up in his bed, yawning.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You’re awake.”

“How long did I sleep for?” I asked.

“We slept all day,” he said. “Like, over 24 hours.”

“I guess saving the world a million times over will do that to a person,” I said, stretching my arms and back out.

He let out a quick, quiet laugh before saying, “There’s a note by the phone for you.”

Scrunching my brows, I threw the covers off of me to head downstairs to see this note Steve was talking about. There wasn’t a note anywhere, but Eddie and my brother were sitting on the couch in the living room.

“What are you two doing here?” I asked.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay, female Henderson,” Eddie said.

“I’m-I’m fine,” I stuttered. “What about you, Munson? Are you okay?” He nodded his head a little. “A little sore, but I’ll be alright.”

“Mom wants you home,” Dustin said.

I nodded and went back upstairs to find Steve putting on his shoes. I let him know that I was gonna go home, and he in turn let me know that he’d be coming with me. I smiled at him and walked up to him, kissing his lips before turning to my drawers to get clothes to dress in.

Once I was dressed, Steve and I went back downstairs, seeing Eddie and Dustin already by the front door. We quickly hurried to Steve’s car, careful not to draw attention to ourselves with Eddie. Steve drove us back to mine and Dustin’s house, where we all walked in the front door, the boys sitting on the couch.

After I turned on the tv, I sat down next to Dustin, the news playing on the screen as the anchorman gave the news. “It’s been less than 48 hours since a 7.4 magnitude earthquake rocked the quaint town of Hawkins, 80 miles outside Indianapolis, in an event that seismologists are calling ‘a natural disaster of near-unprecedented scale.’ The death toll now stands at 22. But with hundreds more filling Roane County hospitals and many more still missing, officials expect those numbers to rise. This is only the latest tragedy to befall this once-safe town. Most recently, a sting of high school students were killed in a series of ritualistic murders, which have been linked to a local satanic cult known as Hellfire. Eddie Munson, the leader of this cult and prime suspect in the murders, has been missing since the earthquake and is presumed dead. But this offers little comfort to the people of Hawkins, who are scared, angry, and searching for answers. Why their town? What have they done to deserve so much suffering? A growing chorus believes the two recent tragedies are linked, claiming the Munson murders opened a doorway between worlds. A doorway, they say, into hell itself.”

Disappointment flooded my body, my head shaking at the so-called news report. “Are you guys hearing this? They’re calling it a doorway into hell. They haven’t even seen hell, much less been to it.” I sighed, turning off the tv and standing up. “Come on. We gotta get to the Wheeler’s.”

~~~

We ended up leaving Eddie at our house where he could get some more rest before Steve drove to pick up Robin. She placed a box in the trunk before she got in the backseat with Dustin, Steve driving to the Wheeler’s as she got settled.

Once we got to the Wheeler’s, Steve opened his trunk, an empty box being placed on the edge of it before another box was placed by the back driver’s seat. 

“Hey, Nance,” Mrs. Wheeler said. “I found some more of your old stuff in the attic.” Nancy walked over to her mother, picking up a toy rabbit for a moment before she placed him back down, grabbing the box from her mother.

A vehicle approaching had gained Mrs. Wheeler’s attention as she asked, “Someone order a pizza?”

“Pizza?” Dustin and I asked. I was so hungry. I turned my head as the horn started to blare, a pale yellow pizza van with a red surfboard attached to the top of it coming into view. “Surfer Boy Pizza?” I asked. “What–”

Mike, Will, Jonathan, El and their friend Argyle piled out of the van, my heart skipping beats and pounding at seeing El. Mike ran to Mrs. Wheeler, calling her name as Nancy and Jonathan ran to each other, the four of them hugging each other, respectfully.

“Olivia!” Eleven called. I smiled bigger than I ever smiled in my life upon seeing her running towards me. I hugged her tight, a few happy tears streaming down my face. When we pulled back, I cupped her cheeks, looking at her. Once I saw her hair, I’m sure the look on my face was more than just shock. “You… you cut your hair?”

She shook her head no. “Papa.”

I looked at her, confused, but she elaborated with, “He’s gone now. Dead.”

Sighing, I touched the top of her head. “Oh, well. It’ll grow back.”

We smiled at each other before she saw Dustin, running to give him a hug. I saw Will next, shocked at how much he grew. “You’re taller than me now.”

“Liv, everyone’s taller than you,” Will said, a big smile on his face.

“Come here,” I said, pulling him into a hug. I looked him over after we pulled apart, stopping at his hair. “Joyce really needs to quit with the bowl cut. That was so ‘81.”

Will laughed at that, pulling me into another hug before asking, “Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s at the hospital,” Dustin said, him and El coming up to stand next to me. I looked back at Steve and Robin, seeing him looking a little sad. 

I walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. When we pulled apart, we placed our foreheads together, breathing each other in. “I’ll kiss you stupid tonight.”

“Among other things?” he asked, smugly.

“Gross,” Robin whispered. 

~~~

Jonathan and Nancy took El, Mike and Will to the hospital to see Lucas, Erica and Max while Dustin, Robin, Steve and I went to the high school to donate some stuff. It was turned into a temporary shelter for those that lost their belongings during the “earthquake.”

The four of us went to the trunk of the car to retrieve the boxes that were in there. Steve looked like he was struggling a little bit, so I took the box from him so that he could close the trunk. He took the box back, chastely kissing me before grabbing my hand, lacing our fingers together as we walked into the gym.

I felt so bad seeing all these people on oxygen and I.V.s as we made our way to the donation table. I really felt the need to help out. Robin, Steve and Dustin set their boxes down as Robin told the volunteer hello.

“Uh, these are blankets and sheets,” Robin said, pointing to each box accordingly. “And some-some clothes, and-and some kids toys.”

“Wow,” the volunteer said. “It’s already so organized. We appreciate that. Do you want a tax receipt for it?”

“Uhm, actually,” I said. “We’d like to help with anything if you need it.”

She looked at me and smiled, telling us which stations to go to. Steve and I were folding and sorting clothes, Robin at the food station, and Dustin walked around, helping to hand out cups of water.

Steve and I were in the middle of folding shirts when we both looked up at Robin and Vickie talking. I looked at her like a proud parent. “At least she isn’t rambling about anything.” “Which one?” Steve laughed.

“Good point,” I chuckled, going back to my folding.

It started getting dark outside, so I just thought it was a normal rainstorm heading this way, but I was wrong once I started to see white flakes floating down. I looked at Steve, worry in my eyes as I watched him look out the window, too. He and I walked towards the windows, as well as Robin and Vickie. 

It looked like the Upside Down was coming to Hawkins… as well as another fight for our lives against Vecna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: i just wanted to say a quick thank you to my readers on this series for being incredibly patient with me these last few weeks. i've been under a lot of stress, and i think it all just came to a head when my kids were a couple days out from spending time with my dad. my anxiety and depression took a hit because of it. i'm sorry everything is coming out late. it was not my intention. thank you sticking around. it means more to me than you truly realize.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on June 26, 2024 *Happy Pride Month to those who celebrate!*

[lakesbian]

Alec for the worm bingo but you have to lie (or possibly place Alec where he would place himself)

huh whats that. i stopped reading after the first five words

somehow not winning a Single bingo i've done goddamn. 1.6 million words and we still don't know enough about him. but also we know almost the perfect amount about him. i liked watching him jump into the paper shredder. only worm character who has made me sniffle for 45 straight minutes (over a scene i thought i was going to find hilarious, which is very fitting for how he operates as a person). shoutout to blastweave for the 'surprisingly good person given the circumstances terrible by any other metrics' post bc it Got In My Brain and made me start thinking abt alec and now i'm the world's biggest alec enjoyer.

reading the terrible takes made him more interesting as well tho. i literally only started thinking interesting things about him because i got mad at posts that sucked. like i didn't even like him at first he was nothing to me but i accidentally talked myself into liking him by vehemently disagreeing with posts that disliked him for the wrong reasons.

anyway i actually really liked what wildbow did with his personal paper shredder i think everything about his arc is 4 the most part super solid, i do think he could've made the WoG re: his abysmal childhood a bit more blatant in canon. like maybe toss that in his interlude or smth. i know wildbow is not a 'sexual abuse on-screen' guy in terms of writing preference and on a watsonian level i think it checks that alec mostly avoids thinking about the things that most impacted him but as-is it's so subtle that Literally Everyone misses it and subsequently misses what his Deal is lmao. i think he could have scootched Something in there to make his Deal more obvious. but the only thing i'm rescuing him from wildbow for is that wildbow cannot handle the bisexual gnc swag he Deserves to have. never over how funny it is that wildbow doesn't even see him as bisexual just as 'hedonist' and writes him like a straight boy except for when he's having fucked up evil sex but still thinks he looks gay enough for someone to accuse him of not liking vagina. during a kaiju fight. like 30 minutes before he dies. top all time regent moment.

(okay, second top all time regent moment. no 1 top all time is still when he says being willing to make sacrifices for the people you care about is terribly unhealthy. it sure is buddy. you've heard of taylor judging alec for shit she does, get ready for alec being like 'man taylor is so gonna be fucked over by that thing she does' about something he is also going to be fucked over by doing)

edit: OH. and alec wouldn't mark anything. no not even the traumatized square. he has issues

[monsieuremjaydee]

The Squatty Potty

I’ve been living with Staceyann and her husband Rick in New Jersey ever since I left my dorm at Columbia back in January. They don’t charge me rent as long as I chip in on the groceries and electrical bill, so it’s good deal. I met them at an AA meeting some years back.

Typical north Jersey trash. Staceyann’s in her mid-40s. Purple-black hair, tattoos on her arms, on her legs, on her chest, on her neck, smokes Newport 100s, molested by her junkie father’s buddies as a child. Rick about the same age, a little on the heavy side, long hair, likes to gamble, not too quick in the head because he spent more than half his life smoking PCP mixed with crack. Loves Bob Dylan.

I live in a little annexed room where the hot water heater is down in their basement. I’ve got a twin size bed with a mattress so worn out that every time I shift in my sleep the springs poke through and wake me up. I’m confined to the downstairs bathroom because one of their kids is—

I should also mention that Staceyann and Rick have three kids. All boys, somewhere between the ages of ten and sixteen. I find it impossible to accurately guess a child’s age and never once found myself anywhere near sufficiently interested when listening to people yap about their kids to even attempt to commit such useless information to memory. I never understood why people make such a fuss about their children. They inadvertently end up making you hate them by acting like they’re the best kids to ever walk the earth. Right. And when they grow up to be dimwitted imbeciles, out come the excuses. ADHD, Asperger’s, anxiety, depression, a chronically itchy sphincter. How about bad parenting? Ever try that one? You wheel your strollers around acting like you’ve got the queen of England in there, demanding that everyone get out of your way, growling at anyone who doesn’t move or make a big deal about your boring child — excuse me, don’t you see I have a baby here? Yes, I can see your mediocre baby and I’m deeply unimpressed. Now please, stop acting like you’ve achieved something extraordinary by plopping out a fetus. Congratulations. A standing ovation for doing exactly what human beings have consistently done since long before they knew how to start a fire. We only apologize for not applauding each time you remember to breathe. What I’m really trying to say here is that one of Staceyann and Rick’s kids isn’t fully there. I’m not exactly sure what’s wrong with him but let’s just say that if this was happening in ancient Sparta, he’d go flying off a cliff.

And so, as you can imagine things can get a bit messy in the bathroom and that’s why I use the one downstairs. No worries there, it lacks nothing. I mean, it did at one point lack a squatty potty and that’s the whole point of this story, but otherwise no complaints. Now, as a broke recent college grad who studied the most useless major on the planet, I wasn’t exactly in the position to buy myself one due to my obvious financial constraints.  

Until one morning right around my birthday when Rick barged into the basement. “Wake up!” he started shaking me. What the hell? “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he wouldn’t quit. “You wanna make two bills?” he says once my eyes open.

But I was in such an immensely deep sleep, the kind that makes your eyelids feel like a million pounds. The kind that if you manage to somehow open your eyes, your vision refuses to focus, you’re disoriented, your mind refuses to align—where am I? is all you can think—your entire body just refuses.

“No thanks,” I mumbled, then turned around and instantly began dreaming about a brown horse who’s lying in bed on his back under the covers reading the February edition of Seventeen Magazine. Hot chocolate steaming on the nightstand.

It’s not that I didn’t NEED the money… It’s that it was 7am on Sunday. Who the hell gets out of bed at 7am on Sunday!

“Five,” I heard Rick’s voice echoing inside the horse’s small but trendy bedroom. “You don’t wanna make five hundred dollars? It’ll take you thirty minutes for god’s sake.”

That calculates to one thousand dollars an hour, which in turn calculates to over two million dollars a year if working forty hours per week. The horse looked at me from under his spectacles, waiting.

“Yea,” I sat up.

“Here.” Rick handed me a flat black box about the size of a frozen dinner. “Take this and drive down to Dunkin’ Donuts in Clifton.”

“There’s like five Dunkin’ Donuts in Clifton,” I yawned.

“The one on Clifton Avenue.”

“The one across from the police station?”

“Exactly,” Rick confirmed. “A guy’ll meet you there. Black Range Rover. Just hop in, hand him the box, he’ll give you cash. Eighteen grand. Count it.”

“Now?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“He’ll be there in ten minutes. I can’t go myself, otherwise I would.”

I peaked in the box. “Okay.” I got up, got dressed, got in Rick’s beat up ’98 champagne Maxima, drove to Clifton, forgot to brush my teeth.

Everything went smooth. Back in 28 minutes.

“Here,” I handed Rick the cash. He peeled off five bills. “Pleasure doing business with you,” I said while putting the Washingtons in my pocket. Then went downstairs and back to sleep.

The next day I bought myself a squatty potty as a birthday gift. The thing is great. Nothing gets left behind if you know wat I mean. Nothing.

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[tyongxnct]

𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑒 - 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝐽𝑎𝑒𝘩𝑦𝑢𝑛

pairing: Jaehyun x reader

summary: After your break up with Jaehyun, you were always on his mind. It’s been almost two years and he missed you so much, it was torture being without you. Nobody loved him like you did and no matter how much he tried to get you off his mind, he only wanted you. Every night a different woman in his bed but he always imagined you. Jaehyun wanted you back but were you ready to face him?

song: feel me - Selena Gomez

genre: angst, exes-to-lovers!au

warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of sex

word count: 3,7k

A/N: this is part two of lose you to love me  I hope you like this, I literally wrote this in five hours lmao, have fun reading and don’t forget to listen to feel me by Selena Gomez! 

taglist: @fluffyjaes​ @m1na4u​ @cosmiclatte28​

© tyongxnct on all platforms

No one love you like I love ya Never cheat, never lie Never put no one above ya I gave you space and time And now you're telling me you miss it And I'm still on your mind We were one in a million And love is hard to find

Do you stay up late, just so you don't dream?

“Hey buddy. Are you ready to go home?”

Johnny looked at his friend with worry in his eyes. “Let’s stay a little longer. Please Johnny.” Jaehyun begged Johnny. He needs the distraction. He needs the alcohol to feel numb, the pain he feels is slowly killing him.

“Come on, it’s late. You need some sleep buddy.”

“N-No Johnny please- I don’t want to go.” Jaehyun mumbled.

“Jaehyun-“

“You can go home if you want. I’m going to stay.  I don’t want to be alone.”

Jaehyun and his wife, his ex-wife now, divorced almost three months ago, about five months after their wedding. Jaehyun met her one night at the club and she wrapped him around her finger and one night became many sleepless nights together. He should be with you, his girlfriend, but the woman in his arms was someone else and after spending so much time with her, he was confused and thought that he fell in love with her.

Breaking up with you wasn’t an option, he was still in love with you, he was just bored after spending years with you and he wanted something new, something exciting and cheating behind your back was the only way he could feel the thrill.

Jaehyun really wanted to marry you, but not while he was cheating and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop secretly meeting her and talking to her when you were sleeping. Jaehyun didn’t want to let go of that thrilling feeling and whenever you talked about marriage, he feared loosing the excitement he felt when he was with her and not with you. But Jaehyun never thought that the option of you leaving him was there. He never thought about how you felt and how he treated you. Jaehyun thought you’d stay with him forever, no matter how long it would take him to breakup with her and marry you.

You were always there and when you told him that you want to breakup, he didn’t know what to feel or what to do. Should he stop you from leaving? Should he break up with her and just marry you?

After you left he spend more and more time with her and when he did the mistake of asking her to marry him while he was totally wasted, she agreed and it didn’t take long for them to say yes.

Jaehyun did many drunk mistakes in his life and he slowly realized that everything leads back to her, his ex-wife. Your relationship was destroyed because he cheated on you with her, your relationship was destroyed because he told himself that he wanted her and not you, your relationship was destroyed because he couldn’t stop his affair and his relationship was destroyed because he let you go to be with her.

Jaehyun realized while he was married, that every decision he had made was wrong. Everything he did to push you away was wrong. The thrill he always felt was wrong. The excitement he felt when he was with her was wrong, everything turned upside down and he regrets chasing that weird feeling he felt when he first met her. He regrets letting her in and letting you go. The love of his life.

How could he? How could he do that to you? How could he destroy the best thing that had happened to him?

After the divorce, Jaehyun felt lonelier than ever, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know that the missing puzzle piece was you and that it was always you he needed and loved.

He didn’t know that you were the one his heart longed for, but after seeing you one night with your friends at a bar, after seeing you smile so happily, he realized that the missing piece was you. Jaehyun realized how lonely he was because you weren’t there, because he didn’t see your face and that beautiful smile you have.

Jaehyun’s chest tightened and he left the bar before you could see him. Jaehyun was ashamed, he couldn’t face you after everything he did to you.

Jaehyun missed you every passing day more and more. He was thinking about you and every time he remembered the way you looked at him when you broke up with him, he found himself crying and suffering because you didn’t deserve any of that. You didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you. You were everything and so much more.

Jaehyun regrets leaving you alone all the time and the one time he asked you to stay longer at Yuna’s makes him so mad, because back then, he missed you so much but he ignored the feeling until you left him forever.

“Dude, come on-“

“Seems like your friend doesn’t want to go home yet.”

Jaehyun and Johnny looked at the person talking. A pretty woman, her body barely covered, and the look in her eyes was enough for Jaehyun to stay and not go home.

“Don’t worry, I can keep an eye on him for you.” She winked and Johnny looked at Jaehyun who was so drunk that he didn’t mind staying with her.

“I don’t think-“

“Go home Johnny. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jaehyun turned away from Johnny to the woman and next thing he knew was how she sucked his dick in her bed.

Jaehyun couldn’t sleep at nights, whenever he closed his eyes he saw you and you followed him in his dreams. The painful look in your eyes was burned in his mind and every dream was about you and losing you. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to wake up from another dream.

Do you stay up late, just so you don't dream?

Every time your lips touch another I want you to feel me I want you to feel me Every time you dance with somebody I want you to feel me I want you to feel me

Jaehyun spend nights with many different women under him. He tried to replace you, he tried to keep you off of his mind, but he failed every time.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips on hers, he didn’t even remember her name but he also didn’t care. Jaehyun imagined you under him, he imagined your lips kissing him and your hands on his chest. Jaehyun’s favorite position was fucking from behind so he wouldn’t see their faces when he fucked them.

“F-Fuck Jaehyun.” She moaned when he sucked her neck and slowly fingered her.

“Don’t talk or I’ll stop.” He mumbled as he kissed her again to shut her up.

Jaehyun always told them to stop talking so he could imagine it was you he was fucking. Sometimes, your name slipped his lips but he didn’t care. If this is the only way he could feel you again, he wouldn’t stop.

Do your days get a little bit longer? Nights get a little bit colder? Heartbeat a little bit louder?

His friends were worried. Especially Johnny, his best friend.

Jaehyun would spend all of his free time in clubs and bars and drink until he couldn’t even walk properly. With no sleep, his days got longer and he felt stuck. Jaehyun felt like he was stuck and there was no escape. Every day was the same but the pain in his heart got worse and worse.

He was so drunk, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he thought he was going to die. Jaehyun really thought that it was the end of everything. The end of his suffering and the pain and the end of your story.

But when he woke up in the hospital, he knew that it wasn’t over. He still needs to suffer because you were also suffering for so long. Jaehyun knew that he needed to suffer more than you did, he knew he deserved all of this.

“Finally awake huh?” Johnny said.

Jaehyun looked to his left and saw Johnny sitting on the chair next to the bed.

“What happened?” Jaehyun couldn’t remember anything.

“Alcohol poisoning. You’ve been sleeping for three days.”

Jaehyun closed his eyes. His stomach hurt.

“I didn’t see her in my dreams. I didn’t see anything in my dreams. Maybe-“

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.” Johnny hissed.

Johnny knew that Jaehyun thought that this was the only way to sleep without dreaming of you.

“But-“

“No fucking buts, god, Jaehyun. Don’t you see how much you are destroying yourself?!” Johnny said a little louder.

“I deserve this.” Jaehyun whispered.

“No! No one deserves something like this. Okay, we both know you did some dumb shit, but why don’t you talk to her? We both know that she won’t kill you. Grow the fuck up now and face the fucking truth.”

Johnny was right.

Jaehyun is a coward.

He’s fucking scared to make things worse if that’s even possible.

Facing you? How could he do that? He couldn’t even look in the mirror, how could you look at him?

“I know where she lives, Jaehyun. And I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself more and more. Please, go talk to her.”

Jaehyun knew that sooner or later he had to talk to you. He always chose later but things got worse and he needs to do something.

When you're running, who you run to? Where do you go to hide? When she ain't giving you enough to get you through the night Won't be caught up in the middle Of your highs and your lows Baby, 'long as you're not with me, you'll always be alone

Do you stay up late, just so you don't dream?

After Jaehyun was released from the hospital, it took him two days to knock on your door.

It’s been months since you saw Jaehyun and when you opened the door, he was the last person you expected to see.

It was silent for almost ten seconds.

Jaehyun’s legs felt like jelly and his eyes got teary. You looked so beautiful, you were glowing. You looked so much healthier and just happier. Jaehyun didn’t know what to say and was so nervous he almost turned around and ran away.

“Jaehyun?”

Oh, how he missed to hear his name coming from your mouth.

“H-Hi.”

Hi? Seriously Jaehyun?!, he thought.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

Jaehyun tried to talk but he was so fucking scared of saying anything wrong that he didn’t talk.

“Jaehyun?” you said his name again.

“I-I wanted to talk… to you… if that’s okay…” Jaehyun scratched his neck awkwardly.

“You want to talk?” you asked, still in shock that he was standing right in front of you.

“Y-Yes.”

“What do you want to talk about?” you leaned against your door, arms crossed in front of your chest.

“U-Us?” he said unsure.

“There is no us though?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, about y-you and me.” You never saw Jaehyun this nervous.

“What is there to talk about? Oh, congratulations by the way, I heard you got married.” You said sarcastically.

Jaehyun gulped, he looked at you and licked his dry lips. “I-“

“Was it the girl you cheated on me with? Or someone else?”

“Y-you knew?” he thought you didn’t know that he cheated.

“Of course I knew. You really thought I’m a dumb little girl?” you spat.

“N-No never it’s j-just-“

“What? A secret you never wanted me to find out? So tell me Jaehyun, did you marry her?”

Jaehyun looked down and nodded. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Did you get her pregnant?” you asked.

“No! I mean, no no it wasn’t like that.” He shook his head.

“So you married her because you loved her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know why I did that, I-I thought that after you broke up that she was the one and I t-think I was scared that she’d leave me too s-so I married her.” He explained but you just laughed at him.

“W-We aren’t together anymore. We got a divorce five months after the wedding.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I just want to e-explain everything and… and I’m sorry. For everything. For everything I did and everything I didn’t do.”

“Come in. I don’t want to disturb my neighbors.” You really wanted to know why he did what he did.

Jaehyun smiled as you let him in.

He looked around your apartment and saw many pictures of you and your friends and family. When he looked at your couch, he saw a little cat sleeping.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, cats don’t hurt people like humans do.”

Ouch, Jaehyun felt a pang in his chest.

“You can speak.” You said ignoring the look on his face.

“I met her when I was out with the boys, a-and I was drunk and next thing I knew I was in her b-bed and I-I couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t stop a-and we were together for so long I thought I needed something… new. It went like this for a year and then your broke up with me and I know that you had every right to do that after how I treated you. I kept the affair a secret because I couldn’t break up with you. I loved you and I wanted to have a family with you, you were my everything b-but I felt like I was stuck with you forever. We were dating for years a-and I needed something new, but I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t stop either. I-I thought I’d stop seeing her one day and we would get married but I-I…” Jaehyun hid his face in his hands as he told you everything. “I-I didn’t want to lose you but in the end you still left me a-and I didn’t want to be alone so I married her and I swear to god I hate myself so much for doing that to you. I hate myself so much for hurting you like that.” He sobbed.

You didn’t say a word.

“T-There’s no one like you. Nobody is enough for me, they’re not y-you and I feel so, so fucking alone without you. My heart hurts and I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to do anymore. I need you so much, I miss you a-and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t believe I-I lost someone as perfect and rare as y-you. I love you so much.” He whimpered.

He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and looked at you. Jaehyun’s eyes were bloodshot red and his lips were trembling, just like his hands.

You didn’t know what to say or to do or to think.

“Jaehyun, look. This, all of this is confusing me. And I really don’t know what you want me to say. You broke every promise, my trust, and my heart. You have no idea what I went through. You have absolutely no idea how hurt and broken I was. You’re suffering? You’re missing me? You’re crying because you are sad? How would you feel If you were me. How would you feel If I did that to you? Hm? This is not a game, this is real life, and you made your decisions. Jaehyun, you chose to hurt me. You chose to cheat on me and you chose to marry her. This had nothing to do with me. I loved you. I waited for you and I was always there for you.” Your voice was calm and you didn’t feel the need to cry but Jaehyun on the other hand was still crying and hating himself even more after he heard your words.

Jaehyun stepped closer to you but you didn’t move away and you looked down to the floor.

“D-Do you hate me?” He whispered.

“No.”

“So you still l-love me.” He hoped you did.

“No… Jaehyun-” you looked up with empty eyes.

This hurt Jaehyun even more. You felt nothing for him. Nothing.

“I love you, Y/n. And I will always love you. P-Please don’t let go of your love for me. Please love me, please- Y/n- please love me again. I can’t live a life without you. I can’t- I just can’t move on. I’ve been trying- I’ve really been trying to move on but it’s impossible. My heart screams for you and only you. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He hugged you tightly and you just let him, you didn’t know what else to do. “Please y/n. One last chance please. Y-You know what? L-Let’s get married. Right now. Marry me, Y/n. We’ve been waiting so long to get married, let’s do it now- please Y/n- marry me. Be my forever- please.” He cried out.

“Jae-“

“No, please no, just think about it. Just you and me. Forever. You and me forever that’s all I want. I’m ready y/n. I’m ready to spend eternity with you please give me one last chance to make things right. Please let me fix this and let me love you again.” Jaehyun cried his heart out as you slowly caressed his back.

“I-I know you still love me. D-deep inside you still love me. We’re meant to be together. Please give me a chance to show you how much I love you. Please marry me.”

“Jaehyun we can’t get married just like that.” You told him.

“B-but,” he let go off you to look at you, his face inches from yours, “So y-you still love me, right?” he looked hopefully at you.

“Jaehyun t-this isn’t as easy as you want this to be! I-I don’t trust you, I don’t know what you want me to say. Let’s forget everything and start over? It’s not working like that, relationships are more than just I love you’s! It took me so long to get back on feet, it took me so long to accept that you did this to us. I always blamed myself, I thought I did something wrong but it was always you. You’re the reason this relationship or whatever that was ended. So, I can’t just get back with you after everything I’ve been through. Not… Not like this.” Maybe it was time for you to cry, too. Tears fell down your eyes, you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

Remembering the pain you felt, the betrayal you felt and how miserable you were, hurt you.

“Jaehyun I was so fucking hurt y-you have no idea, I just wanted to die and n-never wake up.” You were the one sobbing now.

Your body stopped working and you fell in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You heard him say.

“The love of my life married someone else, Jaehyun. You married someone else b-because you d-didn’t want to marry me… You didn’t w-want to marry me. You didn’t want me- y-you didn’t want me.” You repeated the last sentence over and over again and it felt like a knife was stabbed in his heart every time you said that.

Jaehyun held you in his arms as you were both sitting on the floor. This time he caressed your back and tried to clam you down. You bawled your eyes out and you hate to admit that, but you felt safe. You felt safe in Jaehyun’s arms.

“Y-You never l-loved me…” you whimpered.

“T-That’s not true, I always loved you. Do you remember the first time we met? You fell on your butt because we crushed into each other and ever since, I had this huge crush on you and when I asked you to be my girlfriend and you said yes, I was ready to fight the universe for you.”

“B-But y-you didn’t. You fought against m-me.”

If Jaehyun’s heart could break again, it would. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He hates himself, how could he make you feel that way? How could he hurt you so much? How could he break you like this?

Jaehyun wished he could turn back time and change everything. But that was impossible. All he could do was do the right things now, it was his last chance to have a perfect future with you. 

“Please. One chance, all I need is one last chance to show you how much I love you. Let me fix this, please. Please let me treat you like how you deserve to be treated. Let me love you until my last day on earth.”

“I-I’m so scared, J-Jaehyun. So scared.” You whispered.

“Don’t be scared. I can’t lose you again- I won’t lose you again. I love you. I’m so in love with you.” Jaehyun pressed you against his chest and kissed your temple.

You looked up to him. His face so close to yours after months. It felt surreal, you couldn’t believe that it was really him, holding you so tightly because he was so scared that you’d slip away.

He wiped your tears with his thumb and leaned in. You closed your eyes and let him, after so many months, kiss you with his soft and warm lips. You could feel how much he longed for you just with a simple kiss. You could taste both of your salty tears in the kiss and neither of you stopped crying.

Allowing Jaehyun back in your life didn’t change anything about you. You were still confident and strong, and you could be confident and strong with Jaehyun, too. Jaehyun would never dare to take that away from you. He would never dare to hurt you and make you feel small or vulnerable. Jaehyun loves you and you slowly let him back into your life. Your breakup with Jaehyun helped you so much, no matter how much you suffered and how hurt you were. You learned how to love yourself and how important it is to put yourself first and that is something you’d never learn if you hadn’t gone through the breakup.

Feel me Feel me Feel me

[diamond-coral]

The Heist (part 3/finale)

Steve x Reader

Chapter summary: Captain’s plan worked. Now you’re in for a lot of trouble after trying to break into his apartment. He’ll have you. Just like he wanted.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sex, dark, rape/non-con, forced orgasm, praise and degradation kink, kidnapping, mentions of strip club, mentioned anal, swearing, mild violence, slight Stockholm

“You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

Steve wrenched you from the wall and let you fly back toward his bed, your feet tripping over themselves as well as the chain attached to the cuff secured around your ankle before you finally tumbled onto the mattress. Your breathing was heavy as you glared back at his cerulean eyes which were narrowed, daring you to try anything.

And you did. Because fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.

You darted out to the right, arm reaching out to take grip of the lamp on his nightstand. You grabbed hold of it and pivoted your body around as your arm flung out toward his head. Steve simply intercepted the hit with a firm grasp, and you gritted your teeth as the two of you began an aggressive tug of war for the lamp.

“Stop. This. Now,” Steve scolded as if you were a child before giving a sharp tug, the lamp slipping out of your hand.

“No thanks.” You grinned, catching him off guard, before you grabbed both his shoulders as support and kneed him in the groin. Hard.

Steve let out a pained groan. He dropped the lamp, and you caught it by the handle before using all your strength to swing the base against his head like a baseball bat. He stumbled backwards while his hand reached up near his temple. He pulled it back and inspected the blood. You remained frozen, having hoped that the blow would have at least knocked him out. His broad figure compromised your escape route to the door of his bedroom, so running was not an option.

“We need to fix this fuckin’ attitude of yours,” he grumbled, and while you were lost in your predicament of all escape routes being impossible, he snatched the lamp, this time breaking it in half like a toothpick before tossing both ends over his shoulder to the opposite side of the room. “I wanted a kind and docile housewife. Not some ungrateful bitch.” 

He practically pounced on you, and you fought, pushing against his brick wall of body, before relenting with the knowledge he was far too strong for you.

“Well you’ve got the wrong person, buddy-pal,” you quipped, but your voice trembled in your compromised position..

“No. I don’t. Because I’ve already seen her, you, at the club. And I don’t know why the hell you gotta give me some attitude when I’m trying to save you from the shitshow of a life you’re livin’. Maybe you’re just scared. Scared of letting someone take care of you when you’ve been fighting for yourself for so long, so you put on the unappreciative bitchy exterior.” 

Was this man serious? How delusional did he have to be to think all of that after one encounter?

“Well guess what,” he whispered, face so close to you that his breath fanned over you. “I’ll fucking rip it apart. I’ll break you down. Shatter this pathetic wall you have up until I get back the girl at the club. Might take a couple good fuckings, but I’ll finally get it out of you.” His thumb stroked your cheek, brushing away the tears that had shed at his admissions. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed. “This is for the best.”

You let out a small whimper, another round of tears flowing, at the sound of his belt unbuckling and fly coming undone. 

You began pounding against his chest and begged him not to.

You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Easily holding you down, Steve let out a stuttered moan as he entered you slowly. You begging turned into sounds of agony as he stretched you out and filled you like no other had before. 

“I wanted our first time time to be special. Slow and loving,” he confessed as he stilled inside of you. He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back in and muffling your shriek with a large hand. “Gotta say, this is still pretty special though. Might just love those big watery doe eyes lookin’ at me a little more than that cute smile of yours. You just look so pretty, all wrecked and crying for me, doll.” He moved his hand slightly aside to lick a strip of your tear stained cheek, letting out a hum of approval.

You thrashed under him, hands lashing out until one of his own came to wrangle both wrists above your head, so you resorted to bucking your hips in hopes of throwing him off. It was hopeless. 

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The hand covering your mouth moved down to hold you hip down in a bruising grip. He just rutted into you harder and faster in response to your outburst.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make a noise. The searing of your walls was slowly melting into pleasure. You feared accidentally letting a moan slip and alerting Steve to your pleasure.

But Steve could tell how you enjoyed it. Although tears flowed freely from your eyes, your pussy squelched, the sound blending in with the clapping of skin each time he drove into you.

“Told you. I’d fuck you. Like a whore,” He managed to get out between thrusts. “And you fuckin’ love it too.” He let out a dark chuckle. “God you’re such a slut.”

You whined as he pulled out when he flipped you over, but he made up for it by beginning to drill into you harder than before. With every brutal thrust, his cock glided against your g-spot before the tip punched against your cervix, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Steve roped your hair around his palm and yanked your head back. Your back arched painfully to accommodate.

“Tell me you’re a slut. Tell me your my slut. Only mine. Only for me. Not that stupid fuckin’ club. Mine.”

“N-no. No,” you stuttered, barely being able to form words. You wouldn’t let him have his victory. You wouldn’t give it to him and bend to him.

Because you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He once again yanked your hair, this time using the momentum to bring your body flush against him. His other arm came to wrap around your waist, and he secured your back to him, never once letting up on fucking you. The new angle made your body light on fire, and a moan escaped past your lips.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut and I’ll let you cum.”

You wouldn’t. You still had some dignity left. You’d be strong. You’d-

“Oh fuck, I’m your slut. Please let me cum. Please, please, I need it so bad. I’m your fucking slut! Only yours Steve!” you cry out. Humility and pleasure both burned your body.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, quickening his pace. “Cum now. Cum all over my cock.”

You did just that. Your cunt clenched around his cock while you gushed around him. Pleasure constricted around your entire body like fire. 

“Good little whore. All mine,” Steve chanted, but you barely heard him. All you could think about was Steve and his cock. You shattered. Your mind, your body, your will, all shattered to a million pieces.

________________________________________________________________

You sigh, smoothing down the flowy pink skirt that stopped right about your knees. That was all six months ago but it felt like years. Steve made good on his word. Here you were, the good little docile housewife, waiting for him to return home from a mission that had taken him three days, a home cooked meal sitting on the table. Waiting to be devoured by the ravenous man who would return. Just like you.

You didn’t even attempt to escape this time. The first time you had managed to shatter the living room window with a lamp (ironic, huh?) while Steve was in the bathroom. You had made it down the fire escape before he intercepted you in the alley and dragged you quietly back to the apartment with a gun concealed between your bodies. When you got inside, Steve brutally took your virgin asshole. The second time, you tried the same thing, but Steve caught you before you even stepped foot out the window. After replacing the glass with a new bulletproof material from S.H.I.E.L.D., he starved you for five days, only allowing you water. He still made you cook for him though. It was a cruel joke to him, watching you make him a meal while your stomach was about to eat itself. He’d fuck you hard after, and your body felt like it’d break in half.

The third time was three months after that. You’d managed to gain his trust enough to let him take you for a walk in the park, and after a knee to the groin, you took off and hid yourself in a crowd of people. It wouldn’t be a good image for Captain America to be hunting down an innocent girl on the streets of New York. You managed to be away from him for almost 24 hours, but you couldn’t go to the police. After telling them you were a stripper that broke into Captain America’s apartment, you highly doubt they’d believe the rest of your story.

You were in the grocery store with some stolen cash when Bucky Barnes finally caught you. He muttered a couple words about how pretty Bella was and how he’d hate to put a bullet through her pretty head, and you followed him like a dog back to Steve’s building. Steve, as a thank you to Bucky and a punishment for you, let Bucky fuck you for hours till you passed out with his metal hand around your neck.

You smile to yourself, hoping Steve would be happy that you remained compliant and would be there to greet him as he returned home.

The sound of a lock turning snaps you out of your thought, and your head turns to the door as Steve enters.

“Sweetheart!” you say as you throw yourself on him, hands intertwined behind his neck.

“Hi honey,” he greets, smiling down at you, taking in the sight before he leans down to give you a peck on your painted red lips. You almost frown at your eagerness to return it. Almost. But your interest is directed toward Steve as he reaches into a paper shopping bag. “Got you a little something. Know how much you love to paint.” 

He pulls out a set of brushes, showing them to you, before handing you the entire bag. You look inside and gasp. So many colors and canvases. This was your life before he had trapped you, and here he was, giving you a piece of it back.

“Steve, I don’t even know how to thank you,” you begin. “I-”

Steve cuts you off with a deep kiss.

“Anything for my girl. Besides I figured you could use some practice.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Well, I bought us a house!” he announces, grinning. “That implant of yours will be wearing off in a couple months, and I’d love for you to paint a mural in the nursery. For our baby.”

[sweetbitterimpossiblecreature]

A Brief And Concise Summary Of Is Wrong With The ACOTAR Series

I think we can agree that a lot of ACOTAR is pretty iffy. Consider this a very brief refresher.

What's Wrong With Feyre/Rhysand (juxtaposed against Feyre/Tamlin)

Rhysand drugs and sexually assaults her in Book 1

This is "for her own good". Because he "has no choice". Despite the fact that, from what we know of the plot, Amarantha thinks that Clare Beddor was the one Rhysand was diddling, and is only interested in Feyre because Rhysand, "her" man male, has taken an interest in her.

If we extrapolate from this we can figure that Rhysand is the one directly putting her into danger.

Now, let's be clear: drugging someone is bad. Sexually assaulting someone is bad. One could argue there were extenuating circumstances. But if, in such a situation, what your mind goes to is "I know, I should assault this person... for their safety" I have questions about your moral qualities. There were a million things he could have done. He could have done whatever he did to Clare - that is, remove her ability to feel any pain - easily. He could have helped her escape. Under The Mountain, he - while still there unwillingly - has a lot of power, as Amarantha's side piece. Maybe this would have resulted in him being punished- however, he is hundreds of years old and a badass motherfucker, and she is a nineteen year old human girl.

Now, onto Tamlin. Obviously not a lot of people really ship F/T anymore after ACOMAF, because compared to F/R, it's boring. I read another person's post about it, which was very enlightening: they said that Feyre's personality is essentially a mirror. When she is with Rhysand, she's snarky and malicious- because she is "bouncing off" his energy. When she's with Mor she's super feminist and "in awe of her strength". On the other hand, Tamlin is kind of an empty character. He's a pretty boy with anger issues, which should be more interesting than it is. SJM manages to make him bland. Because Feyre has nothing to bounce off of, (a lot of this is from the person's post), she and Tamlin together is mainly just him introducing her to his world.

What Tamlin Does: prevents a skinny twenty year old from going on dangerous missions with him and combat-trained soldiers, accidentally blows up a room with her in it, and, at the end, prevents her from leaving the house.

This is not a Tamlin apologist post. Obviously it was really fucking gross of him to do that, and their relationship was toxic. However, a lot of his abuse stems from their inability to communicate, as well as own negligence. He does not knowingly and purposefully sexually assault her or rape her mind. And tbh, leaving a girl without combat training at home while he goes on missions with a bunch of muscled sentries is... kind of reasonable?

Again: not a Tamlin apologist post. It was abuse. However, if Rhysand is "allowed" to sexually assault, mind-rape, and drug Feyre "for her own safety", why is Tamlin demonized for preventing her from leaving his mansion "for her own safety"?

Another pertinent point: Rhys is never punished for sexually assaulting her. It is brushed off as part of his "mask" or that his hand was forced. Jesus Christ my dudes, his hand was not forced under her skirt. If he has to maintain his gross rapist abuser tyrant oppressor mask... why? Who did that benefit beside him? None of his actions remotely helped Prythian. They were done solely for his buddies - five people safe in a rich hidden city - and no one else, which is explicitly stated.

Finally, the power dynamic is fucked up. Feyre is less than twenty five years old. Rhysand is 500. There is a tendency in fantasy romance to romanticize a centuries year old man with a young girl, because the man does not show symptoms of age, and so it is easily ignorable. However, can we just briefly acknowledge how fucked up it is? Rhys is over five times older than Donald Trump, Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, and other known predators/abusers. She is twenty. That is really fucking gross. She is in a vulnerable position and he takes rampant advantage of that.

If he had wrinkles, liver problems, and erectile dysfunction, more people would acknowledge it.

Let's be clear: I'm not saying writing a book with an uneven power dynamic is automatically bad. For example, in The Locked Tomb series, which is in my opinion THE BEST FANTASY SERIES THAT HAS GRACED THIS EARTH (lol i'm starting fires), one main character Harrowhark Nonagesimus is in a position of power over Gideon Nav, the other main character. However, this is not glossed over or romanticized. Gideon resents Harrow for this- there is a relationship of mutual antagonism, fraught with unwilling familiarity and intimacy from growing up together. They are roughly the same age. While there is a certain power dynamic (in that world, there is a dynamic of necromancer and cavalier, i.e. sorcerer and sword) the "empowered" character (Harrow) emphatically respects her and does not abuse this power, although both would of course deny this, and she does make a show of threatening and being aloof. In short, while Gideon obeys her, Gideon also has power over Harrow, and the idea of what is essentially slavery is not romanticized.

Feyre Doesn't Face Any Consequences For Her Own Actions

Let me present a radical notion: a guy preventing you from leaving his house does not justify completely fucking ruining his country and harming the people inside it.

In other words: Tamlin does not deserve what she did to him.

I know that sounds iffy. We're conditioned to think that if someone is an abuser, then they are the scum of the earth, they deserve to die, torturing/murdering/doing anything to them is completely A-OK. However, here's another radical notion: someone harming you does not justify you doing worse.

Obviously, the effects of psychological abuse can cause you to hurt other people (see: Nesta), but Feyre deliberately and maliciously (oh, God, that insufferable POV of her in Spring Court; she reads like a cartoonish Disney villain) dismantles his country. She uses sexual manipulation (Lucien), torture (causing the sentry to be whipped), and mind-rape (who didn't she do this to? lol).

A summary of the entire first half of ACOWAR: "It smelled like roses. I hated roses. For this capital offense against my olfactory system, Tamlin and the entire Spring Court deserved to burn in hell. I knew exactly what I was doing. I smiled at him sweetly: no longer a doe, but a wolf. He didn't see my fangs.............." *aesthetic noises*

Man. I'm starting to think SJM had a horrible experience at a Bath & Body Works and took it out on the rest of us. Don't do it, Sarah!! I know Pink Chiffon and Triple Berry Martini are way too strong, but don't take it out on an innocent population!!

She steals from Summer Court (there are, yk, other solutions to theft. Like maybe asking politely) and ruins Spring Court. Her boyfriend - yeesh sorry, MATE - does nothing while a dozen Winter Court children are murdered.

Now: moral ambiguity is not automatically bad. Again using The Locked Tomb as an example, in the second book (spoiler alert), Harrowhark has a sort of moral ambiguity. She was raised from the beginning to worship the King Undying as God, and so she obeys him without question. Because of this, she commits a lot of crimes in His name: she "flips" - i.e. kills - the life force of planets, and she plots murder (albeit the murder of someone who tried to kill her first). There is no attempt to justify this. There is also no attempt to paint her as a virtuous and yet also badass Madonna figure. She is desperate, plagued with the "wreck of herself", and the book clearly displays her moral pitfalls. While her POV is of course colored by her mindset, it also is limited by her lack of information, and we as readers can acknowledge that.

BACK TO ACOTAR: Feyre is seen by everyone as gorgeous, formidable, and essentially perfect. Rhys sees her as flawless, "made for him", wonderful, beautiful, blah blah blah. (THEY ARE SO BAD FOR EACH OTHER; THEY EXCUSE AND GLORIFY EACH OTHER'S CRIMES, IT'S SO BAD, GUYYYS). Tamlin is insanely batshit in love with her, or whatever. To the Night Court she's the High Lady. In this way she personifies the Mary Sue character. (Excerpt from the TV Tropes page on Mary Sues: "She's exotically beautiful, often having an unusual hair or eye color, and has a similarly cool and exotic name. She's exceptionally talented in an implausibly wide variety of areas, and may possess skills that are rare or nonexistent in the canon setting. She also lacks any realistic, or at least story-relevant, character flaws — either that or her "flaws" are obviously meant to be endearing. She has an unusual and dramatic Back Story. The canon protagonists are all overwhelmed with admiration for her beauty, wit, courage and other virtues, and are quick to adopt her as one of their True Companions, even characters who are usually antisocial and untrusting; if any character doesn't love her, that character gets an extremely unsympathetic portrayal." Sound familiar?)

There is the Ourobous scene. And yet, paradoxically, while presented as an acknowledgment of her flaws, it is in fact a rejection of them. She sees her own brutality... and instead of recognizing that she has these deep, deep moral flaws and realizing that she needs to grow and be better, she in fact "accepts" them.

Guys: Self love means: "I'm important to me, so I'm going to get a massage today after work", or "heck, why not splurge on some expensive lotion, you only live once" or "you know what? I had a tough day today. I'm going to get that strawberry cupcake". SELF LOVE DOES NOT MEAN "oh, I accept all the war crimes I have done, I love myself". LOVING YOURSELF DOES NOT MEAN ABSOLVING YOURSELF OF ALL WRONGDOING.

It's this refusal to acknowledge wrongdoing that is so grating about ACOTAR. It's so goddamn one-sided. And you can tell that after Book 1, SJM decided to completely change the trajectory simply because of how jarring Book 2 reads compared to the first one.

Also: Feyre is a very, very young girl (compared to the other ruling fey) who did not know how to read for the majority of her life. She has no experience whatsoever in politics. Her being High Lady is not a win for feminism.

Rhysand: He Sucks

First, he is 500 years old. He should be written as such, not as some 20 year old virile frat boy feminist. Fantasy is all the more compelling for its elements of realism, which is a concept that SJM does not appear to grasp.

Second of all, his morals are absurd. He is written as the Second Coming of Christ, as someone who can do no wrong, ever, and his flaws only serve to make Feyre love him more. Anything shitty he does is written as part of his "mask" and she can See Beneath It and knows that it "hurts" him to maintain this "mask".

Fellas, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO MAINTAIN THIS MASK???? There is no reason for it. If A) he does not give a shit about Court of Nightmares (we'll get back to that), only about Velaris, and B) Velaris is hidden/protected from the world, what is he pretending for?

It would not hurt him politically to be seen as someone who cares about his country.

"Pretending" to be "Amarantha's whore" does not in any way shape or form benefit the macro-world that is Prythian. In Amarantha's name, he commits atrocities. He commits war crimes; he systemically oppresses entire societies. It doesn't even really benefit Velaris, because Velaris is already hidden.

Let me put this in a real-world perspective. This would be like if Donald Trump was suddenly like: "I know I was a shitty president but IT WAS ALL PART OF MY MASK, WHICH WAS TO PROTECT THIS MICROCOSM OF PRIVILEGED PEOPLE THAT I CARE ABOUT". Like: okay? Sorry, or whatever, but I don't actually give a shit. What about the parents of the children who died? What about Clare Beddor? What about the people who were held in slavery, murdered, tortured?

Rhysand: omg it sucks that my cousin Mor was oppressed by this toxic misogynistic culture from the Court of Nightmares.

Also Rhysand: lol whatever, who gives a shit about Court of Nightmares. They all suck. They meanie. Lol what did you say? That there might be other girls just like Mor who are oppressed by this system? Lol whatever. I can't do anything, I gotta maintain my Mask. I gotta sit on this throne and show the entire Court that not respecting women is completely okay.

In summary: by parading Feyre around as his "whore" (!!) he demonstrates by example that it is completely okay for the Court of Nightmares to abuse their women.

A good ruler cares about all his people. Rhysand cares about a tiny tiny fraction of his people: those who were fortunate enough to be born into Velaris.

God, I'm exhausted. Onto Nesta:

The only character who successfully breaks the Mary Sue effect Feyre exerts on her people is Nesta. Her POV for the first half is a joy to read.

Obviously it sucks that Nesta was a huge bitch to Feyre for the beginning of her childhood. However, it was wrong for Rhysand to threaten her- he is a man male with a huge insane amount of power, and it is not okay for him to threaten to bring the brunt of it down on a young girl because she was a bitch to his girlfriend.

I've seen a lot of discourse on the morality of F/R sending her out of Velaris. Here is my two cents:

It was okay for them to cut her off of their money. If they don't want to enable her self-harm, that is their choice. Again, it's their money, even if it wasn't fairly earned (Rhysand born into an enormous fortune).

It was not okay for them to banish her from Velaris with the implication that she was an embarrassment. Let me explain.

If Rhysand and Feyre are talking to her as sister/brother-in-law, then that is that. They have the complete right to express disapproval and try to help. However, they should not be using their royal privilege against her.

If they are talking to her as ruler to subject, then they have the power to banish her from the city. However, a ruler would not give a shit about a random subject getting drunk and having sex. So, they should not be talking her about her problems as a ruler to subject.

I've heard it compared to her being sent to rehab. However, rehab is a system designed to help people with certain problems. It has specialized medical centers and involves therapy. Nesta gets her life threatened multiple times. It is not rehab.

In summary: why did SJM inflict this upon us. Throne of Glass was actually good! GAHHH! After the first few books she completely whipped around and introduced the idea of males and mates and fey and that C is actually A and the quality took a huge nosedive. Sigh.

Final horrible but unmistakable truth: The entire ACOTAR series reads like a bad A/B/O fic. I hate to say it but it's true. We're lucky there were no heat cycles. OH WAIT

[confetti-cupcake]

Tell me about Nothing Safe is Worth the Drive? Please?? 💕💕💕💕💕

Thanks for the ask 💕 Oooh okay, so Nothing Safe Is Worth the Drive is essentially an Amazing Race AU where everything is somewhat canon compliant for Buck and Eddie, except Bobby, Chimney, Hen, et al. don't work at the 118 and Buck never met Taylor (because they're all going to be running the race too!). Eddie is in love with Buck, but doesn't think Buck feels the same way (spoiler: he's wrong!) and thinks he's perfectly content with them being just friends. But after a call at a reality TV casting office, Eddie gets recruited to be on the Amazing Race — a reality competition show where pairs of contestants race around the world — and he asks Buck to be his partner. And the fic is the two of them running the race, and in the process, being forced to confront their feelings for each other!

This is like the roughest of rough drafts, but here's a little snippet I was working on last night:

[Also tagging @hattalove because she responded to an anon a while back about wanting to see a fic like this. It's happening!]

~~~

It takes a few minutes to navigate the bustling crowd, but once they turn the corner and the white and blue United logo peeks into view, Eddie finally breathes a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” Buck asks as they enter the queue for the ticket counter. “We gotta be top five, right?”

The line is wrapped twice around the various rope barriers – not as long as it could be this time of day – but by Eddie’s count, there’s one, two, three teams wearing big, overstuffed backpacks and matching outfits and the same frazzled enthusiasm that he’s found profoundly relatable at this point in the race.   

“I don’t know. There are at least three teams in front of us. And who knows how many are at the gate already?”

Buck sighs, deflated. “How did this happen? We were one of the first teams out.”

“Hate to say it, but I think our buddy Rafael might’ve taken the scenic route on us.”

Buck shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue with him, and Eddie feels a sting of regret. He doesn’t want Buck to think he’s blaming him, because he isn’t. But if he’s being honest, their cab driver caught a few red lights he shouldn’t have, and took some turns that seemed suspect. Nice guy, no doubt. But nice isn’t going to cut it on a race for a million dollars.

They follow the twists and turns of the rope barriers, which somehow feel longer than the queues at Disneyland. But they’re one rope-length away from the next person on line, and Eddie can almost taste the end.

Until a flash of red ducks underneath the rope, and before Eddie can process what happens, a fourth team in large backpacks rushes in between them and the ticket counter.

Buck sighs again, this time more ragged – a telltale sign that he’s getting frustrated. And Eddie can’t blame him. He clears his throat, but the cutters don’t turn around.

“Eddie,” Buck warns.

Eddie shakes him off, and clears his throat more obnoxiously. They don’t turn around again, and they’ve got to be either deaf or obtuse at this point.  

“Eddie. Just let it go,” Buck hisses, once again.  

But the thing is, Eddie can’t let it go. Because he knows Buck, and he knows his self-critical tendencies, and how they’ll have him beating himself up over hailing a slow cab for the rest of the night if they don’t get on the early flight. And while Eddie is just here for the adventure of it all, this is Buck’s dream – and he won’t be able to live with himself if they’re the first team eliminated because two cheaters cut them. Because that would make Buck sad, and he can’t have that.

“Excuse me,” he finally says, loud enough to turn the heads of the group in front of them.

The young woman of the pair sags, as if she’s rolling her eyes. She whirls around and her red hair falls back over her shoulder. “What?”

“Uh, you and your boyfriend just cut the line.”

The woman scoffs. “First of all, Bret’s not my boyfriend,” and her partner shakes his head quickly like he wants no part of that assumption. “And no, we didn’t.” She says it simple and matter-of-fact, and it’s so damn pompous that Eddie can’t help but quip back.

“How do you figure?”

“Well, for one, you and your boyfriend weren’t on line.��

Eddie tenses up, his cheeks suddenly burning hot. “What? I—” He’s suddenly breathless, and in trying to act inconspicuous, he somehow manages to forget every word he knows. Is he really this obvious? “He’s—He’s not—”

She arches an eyebrow. “Not so fun, is it?”

Eddie takes a deep breath and counts to ten. “You’re mistaken,” he says through clenched teeth, and his jaw will certainly be paying the price for this later. “We were on line. Literally no more than ten feet behind you.”

“Hm. See, that sounds more like you were walking toward the line. Is that right?” she asks, and the question drips with condescension.

“What the hell is the difference?”

She rolls her eyes. “You weren’t on line. You were ten feet behind it. You said it yourself,” she says, like that’s an obvious disqualifier. “You don’t get dibs on the line just because you were dumb enough to walk through all the velvet ropes.”

Eddie gapes at her, and the expression “seeing red” suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. “Well, that’s—” he splutters, and it’s one of those situations where the argument is so inexplicably dumb and wrong that he can’t even think of a halfway decent comeback. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“And?” she goads him, like she can do this all day. “What are you gonna do about it?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Because, sure, he’s worked hard the last few years to instill Christopher with good manners, the most important of which being that nobody likes a tattletale. But god, has Eddie never wanted to be a dirty hypocrite so badly in his life.

He glances around, mostly in hopes that there’s some disgruntled airport official nearby looking for a fight, since there always seems to be no shortage of those in the movies. But there’s nobody to be found, and now that more travelers are filing in behind him, he’d never be able to dip from the line to get somebody’s attention without getting pushed even further back.

And look, Eddie’s usually not one to let his emotions consume him. When you have a kid at home, keeping a stiff upper lip in times of conflict is Setting a Good Example 101. But there’s something about this woman that makes him want to throw all that out the window and willingly participate in the pettiest, most immature argument of all-time. Just for the mere chance at wiping the smirk off her face.

But he can’t do that. Because when he finally comes up for air, and realizes that cameras are suddenly in his face and the sound guys are pushing close to pick up every word of the conversation in crystal clear quality and everyone in a fifty-foot radius is looking at them like they’re caged zoo animals… well, trashing his dignity and composure an hour into the race seems like less of a good idea. And it’s not until Buck shifts awkwardly beside him that he’s able to reel himself in enough to bite back the urge.

“Thought so,” the redhead says smugly before she and her partner turn back to face the counter.  

Buck grimaces, laced with sympathy, and Eddie suddenly regrets all his life choices. “I tried to tell you it wasn’t worth it.”

Eddie sighs. “You know, you could’ve backed me up there. They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with that.”

Buck, to his surprise, shrugs like he doesn't have the energy to care. “Cheating’s part of the game, Eddie. They’re not the first to do it, and they definitely won’t be last.”

Eddie crosses his arms. “Well, that’s—”

“Stupid?” Buck chuckles and flashes a knowing grin, the very kind that never fails to make Eddie weak in the knees. “Yeah. I thought you might say that.”

Send me a title of a WIP and I'll answer with a snippet!

[somebodycall911onabc]

Some post-4x13 Buddie because ummmm no to everything that just went down and whatever the hell they're doing with that promo. Pre-relationship Eddie introspection, guest-starring sleepy Buck and Chris (how often can I have these two idiots—Buck and Eddie, not Chris—wake each other up too goddamn early in the morning; the answer is infinite).

Eddie wakes up.

The world is a quiet, washed-out hum of static and dim light. He listens to his breath, in and out, in and out, as the room comes into focus. The rhythmic beeping monitor. The rough sheets over his chest. The hollowed-out numb of his shoulder where—

fuck. Where he’d been shot.

Eddie blinks open his eyes and grimaces. He’s probably doped to hell but his shoulder aches like forest fire, like a pain that will consume him and the whole world too, if he lets it. His head feels like someone pumped it full of air right up until the point before it bursts. He grits his teeth and gathers saliva on his tongue, carefully distributes it so that when he swallows, it will feel less like he’s ingesting a quart of sand. He knows this song and dance. He wiggles his fingers and toes and notes that remarkably, everything’s in working order. He wonders how often you can cheat death before that karma comes to get you.

Although he thinks Buck would probably go to bat for him, even against death himself. The heart monitor spikes as Eddie remembers with a vicious and cruel clarity Buck’s eyes on his as Eddie shuddered and collapsed. Buck’s wide, deer-in-headlights eyes, all that Eddie could see, just two pinprick pupils until there was nothing else, just the black, blank darkness.

Eddie tips his head to the side and opens his eyes, unclenching his fists, and nearly reels back when he sees Ana. She’s crumpled in the seat beside him, her chin resting on her collarbone, her long, dark eyelashes twitching against her cheek as she sleeps.

He closes his eyes and turns his head away.

But Ana’s a light sleeper. She was already waking up when he looked at her, roused from the shallow depths of unconsciousness by the change in Eddie’s breathing pattern, or something. His eyes are still closed when she croaks out, “Eddie?”

He looks at her.

“Eddie!” She says, raising her hands to flutter them over his chest, his face, his un-wounded shoulder. “You’re awake! You’re alive! Thank God,” she says, fervent. Like a prayer.

“Guess I’m just… lucky,” Eddie wheezes out. She smiles at him, eyes watering, and he gave the PG-version of his Silver Star story in her classroom but there’s no hint of recognition in her eyes.

“Either the luckiest man alive, or the unluckiest,” she says. “I’m pretty sure a lucky man wouldn’t be shot at quite so much.” She presses a kiss to his temple and Eddie has the horrible impulse to bat her away from him like she’s an overbearing aunt.

God, he’s an idiot. And it would take getting shot for him to realize it.

“What… happened?” Eddie asks, relieved when she leans back and settles into her chair.

“I’m not sure… I heard there was a sniper on the scene. The police think he might be targeting first responders, because how could this year get any worse?” When she shakes her head, her curls bounce in a way Eddie found appealing, once. It feels like a million years ago.

“Chris?” He asks, heart racing once more. She glances at the monitor and then back to him, offering a reassuring smile that does little to soothe his nerves.

“He’s OK. Buck’s with him.” Those three words calm Eddie instantly, like someone turning off an electric kettle, the worry bubbling up inside him simmering to a still. Because it means Chris is OK, and so is Buck. “I’m really grateful to Buck,” Ana is saying, taking his hand in hers, drawing his attention back to her. “It means I get to be here, with you.” She smiles at him like he’s fragile.

Wrong.

Eddie looks at her and doesn’t know how to tell her. How to tell her that the right thing would be for her to be at Chris’s side. That Chris always came first. Chris was the first and only priority. Chris was Eddie’s heart, raw and exposed, just like Bobby had said.

He looks at her and thinks about Chris’s smile, how he lights up the minute Ana walks in the room. He thinks about Chris confessing to him, quiet and anxious, that he’d asked Santa to find Mommy. He thinks about his parents telling him that the proper thing to do was to marry the girl carrying his child, even if he wasn’t sure he loved her.

Chris has been and will always be the most important thing in Eddie’s life. But Eddie’s starting to realize that even with a Northstar as good and perfect as Chris, Eddie didn’t always make the best choices. For himself, for Chris, or for their family.

“Can you call Buck, for me?” Eddie asks, brushing his thumb over Ana’s delicate knuckles. “If it’s not too late. I want to see my boys.”

She hastily bends down to pick up her purse and fumble her phone out, tell him it was fine, Buck had wanted her to call him as soon as Eddie woke up, anyway. He catches a glimpse of a “5” as she unlocks the phone and opens her contact list.

In the early morning, hospital quiet, Eddie can hear the phone ring on the other end of the line. Once, twice. Click.

“Hello?’ Buck asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Let me talk to him,” Eddie says, before Ana can get a word in. She hesitates, opens her mouth, but he holds her gaze until she extends the phone to him. Eddie’s hand is steady when he takes it from her.

“Hey,” Eddie says. Buck’s bleary-eyed, curls smashed to one side of his head, half his face obscured by a dark shape.

“Eddie,” Buck says, a ragged, relieved sound. He shifts, and Eddie hears him say, “Chris, Chris wake up, it’s your dad, Chris, he’s OK!”

And then there’s another face, pressing too close to the camera, so that Eddie mostly sees a nostril and some chin.

“Daddy!” Chris whoops, and Eddie smiles, and Buck pulls Chris back from the phone screen so Eddie can see him.

“Hey there, buddy,” Eddie says, “sorry I scared you.”

“W-wasn’t scared,” Chris insists, blinking rapidly because without his glasses, the world was mostly a multi-colored smudge. “I had Buck.”

Buck—who settles Chris’s glasses over his face with heartbreaking tenderness. Buck—who wraps an arm around Chris and scoots them back against the headboard so they can both see Eddie. Buck—who had clearly been sleeping in Chris’s bed, keeping him safe while Eddie was getting several pints of blood pumped into his body and shrapnel extricated from his shoulder.

“That’s good,” Eddie says. “Really good.”

“We knew you’d be OK,” Buck says. “Right, Superman?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause of your lucky charm.”

Eddie has to close his eyes against that. Chris is still so young, still Disney-innocent and honey-sweet, and Buck knew exactly what to say to calm Chris down. He knew Chris’s favorite bedtime story and the playlist Eddie made for him to help Chris fall asleep.

“That’s right,” Eddie chokes out. “My St. Christopher medal.”

“No.” Eddie blinks at that, at the stubborn line of Chris’s mouth. “Me. And Buck.”

Buck looks just about as surprised as Eddie feels.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Buck asks.

“What?” Chris asks, confused at their confusion. He addresses Buck. “Daddy said that I was his good l-l-luck charm. Because he loves me. A-and he loves you, so you’re his good luck charm too.”

Eddie isn’t sure if his kid is perceptive or just putting together ideas in the way only kids can. But it doesn’t really matter, because he isn’t wrong.

“Got me there,” Eddie agrees. “I must be pretty lucky, since I’ve got the both of you watching my back.”

Buck’s smiling a pleased, sunshine grin. The room is too dark and the connection is too poor, but Eddie would bet money that Buck’s blushing.

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t look at Ana.

“We’ll come visit as soon as the hospital opens,” Buck promises. “It’s good you called, because we should probably get going.”

To his right, Chris gives a huge yawn.

“You sure? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You think we’re gonna be able to sleep now that you’re awake? No way.”

“No way!’ Chris agrees.

“We’ll be there in fifteen. Twenty. Ten?” Buck looks down at Chris.

“Five!” Chris shouts. “The f-firetruck could make it in five minutes!”

“But we only have Buck’s jeep,” Buck says, pouting at Chris. “Definitely not a firetruck.”

“Fifteen,” Chris amends.

“OK,” Eddie says with a laugh that barely hurts. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Buck.”

“For what?” Buck asks, ruffling Chris’s hair with the hand that had been draped over Chris’s shoulders. “Be there soon.”

The call disconnects with the finality of a book snapping shut. He squares his shoulders (as much as he can while lying in an inclined hospital bed with a bullet injury) and turns his head to face Ana.

Her eyes are narrowed and hard, like ice over a troubled stream.

“So,” she says, slow and calm, “Buck?”

“Yeah” Eddie says. It’s all he can say. He can’t tell her how to be what he needs, what Chris needs. He can’t tell her to put Chris first like a reflex, like an instinct.

He doesn’t blame her. He isn’t mad at her. He isn’t even disappointed. He’s as shocked as anyone that he met someone who understood, immediately and profoundly, that Chris was Eddie’s world. Eddie had never counted on someone like Buck. And it was time he stopped running from that and accepted it for the undeserved, unparallelled gift that it was.

“I’m sorry,” he adds.

“Me too.” Ana takes her phone back with a snap of her wrist and drops it in her purse. “I’m going to go home.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, feeling a little guilty. He knows what it’s like to feel left behind, waking up with nothing but a note and the realization that you could never be good enough.

Ana gets to her feet and smooths the wrinkles of her blouse, and for a moment she reminds him so much of Shannon that he’s dizzy. The straight back, the self-posession, the tumble of curls swept over her shoulder.

He hopes Ana finds a love worthy of her, someone who will treasure her and believe her when she says, “sometimes our limitations let us know who we are.”

Because Eddie looked at the world like a challenge. He threw himself into it like the world might burn up tomorrow, but he would fight to the last breath anyway. He peeled away honorable discharge and may experience lifelong mobility dilemmas and we know what’s best for him and don’t you know how hard it is to be a single father like strips of old paint.

And Buck was the same way. Buck was I had to do it and didn’t you know Jim Abbot played baseball with only one hand and I’m in. You wanted us to bond, Cap. We might end up real close.

Eddie watches Ana leave, her heels clicking sharp against the tiled floor. At the door, she turns her head.

“I am glad you’re OK, Edmundo.”

“Thank you.”

And then she’s gone.

And then Eddie waits, anticipation mounting, for his boys to bring him home.

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 3 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, car accident/serious injury, bullying, mention of ableism, a singular mention of god.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i absolutely adored writing this chapter, omg. we get more of spencer and maddox's backstory. and things start to get a little more exciting as the rest of the team makes their first appearance! thank you all for the great feedback so far, i'm so glad you're enjoying the series. also my tags are not working, so reblogs on this chapter would be insanely appreciated. Flashbacks are in italics!

Seeing the blood on your hand, Spencer instinctively reached out to grab your wrist gently. You snatched your hand back, bringing yourself up to your feet, wobbling. You grabbed your bag, wrapping your hand in your scarf that you had managed to take off in the cool October night.“Ivy,” he said the moniker one more time and you felt your insides reel once more.

‘I’m a liar, Dr. Reid, I wish you knew,’ you thought to yourself, stumbling to search for your keys under the warm glow of the moon.

“I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” you contended, making your way out of the side gate. Spencer watched in confusion as you made your way out quickly. He figured he ought to chose his battles, not wanting to startle you by following after you.

Once you were safe inside your car, you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. You felt a sharp combination of embarrassment and frustration. You wanted the flit of light that came from the possibility of new love. But instead, the one before had taken everything from you. Even now, all these miles and a new name away, he was pulling you away from those little flickers of brilliance and back into the darkness of yourself.

_____________________________

2 years earlier.

“Maddox,” Spencer whispered, feeling his heavy eyelids open just slightly. He was disoriented, noticing that the once right-side-up roadway was now upside down instead. The loud blaring of the horn was constant. It sent a piercing sound into Spencer’s ears and head, which caused him to wince. “Maddox.”

Spencer tried to turn, but he couldn’t move. Something had him pinned in the driver’s seat. He looked into the review mirror, which by grace alone wasn’t entirely broken. Maddox was slumped in his car seat, blood trickling down onto his Toy Story tee shirt. Spencer let out a weak gasp, trying again with no avail to move.

Spencer noticed how cold it was. It had been snowing all night, and Spencer wasn’t sure how long they had been where they are now. The snow had fallen through the shattered glass, tiny flakes gathering anywhere they could.

Using all of his strength, he turned his head to his wife. Her eyes were half shut, a trickle of crimson come from her mouth.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered. “Are you alright?”

She began to speak, but began to sputter, her lungs sounding flooded. Her hand curled and uncurled, and Spencer could barely reach it. He was able to hold onto her fingertips with his. They felt ice-cold like she was already three steps into Eternity. Spencer knew that type of frigid touch. He had come in content with it a million times, and the person on the other end was never living.

“D-don’t talk, baby. Okay? The ambulance is coming. Do you hear them? We’re going to be okay.”

Spencer could hear the medics somewhere far off in the distance. The repeated echo of the sirens sounded like a band of angels to him. Spencer Reid admittedly didn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian God. He wasn’t sure what he gave credence to, in fact. But at that moment, inverted in the shattered glass, surrounded by the labored breathing of his dying wife...he prayed.

________________________________

Spencer walked into the Bureau, adjusting the brown satchel on his shoulder. His brow looked furrowed as he sipped from his paper coffee cup. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you left, trying to profile what exactly had gone wrong between the Merlot and you rushing out of his backyard.

“Penny for your thoughts?,” Emily piqued as Spencer sat down, tossing his bag onto his desk. Spencer let out an exasperating sigh, taking another drink of his coffee.

“Just trying to figure someone out.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this a lady someone?,” Derek queried, wiggling his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto Spencer’s desk with a sparkling grin.

“Maybe.”

Spencer felt himself smiling despite his best efforts. Emily opened her mouth in surprise, giving Derek a playful shove.

“I told you he would get back out there, Morgan!”

Spencer smiled. “Yeah, she’s sweet. I just...don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

That morning, Spencer had put on his wedding band. He still did it when he was scared, or nervous, or needing to feel close to her. He would feel the cool metal atop his finger and feel less alone. For a brief moment when the metallic touched his skin, he could pretend she was still here.

Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“I hope you know me and Prentiss are just messing with you. We care about you, kid. We know these past two years have been hell for you. Just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…I appreciate that. I just…,” Spencer paused, bringing his hands up as he spoke, as was so akin to him. His lip curled into the smallest smile. “Seeing this girl interact with Maddox. She...loves him for him..already?”

“Maddox is a great kid, Reid.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to find out---”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off by Hotch appeared, letting everyone know they had a case and to meet for Round Table. Spencer quickly shot a text to Maddox’s home health nurse, letting her know he’d need coverage for a few days.

________________________________

You sat in the front of your classroom, your eyes scanning from the test in front of you to the answer key. The students were working on a Social Studies project in small groups. Their task was to read a short story about colonial times and fill out a short worksheet. If they finished early they were permitted to color, which most of the children thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maddox can’t use crayons,” you heard a small voice snicker. You raised your eyebrow, hoping it wasn’t harmful, and rather just an observation.

You heard another child sling a slur at Maddox, who was sitting quietly with his aide, trying to ignore them. But as you looked up, you saw Maddox’s tiny bottom lip begin to wobble. One of the children picked up a crayon and threw it at Maddox, hitting him in the shoulder.

“He can’t even feel that! My dad said that’s why he’s in a wheelchair,” the bully jeered again, high-fiving his friend.

You stood up with a loud squeak of your chair against the linoleum floor.

“You two. Principals office. Now.”

The rest of the class erupted in a chorus of childish ‘ooo’s. You clapped your hands together - your universal signal to quiet down.

“I did not ask for comments from the audience,” you scolded. The children settled down, going back to their work, whispering amongst one another.

“Maddox, come talk to me in the hallway,” you offered. Tears were rolling down Maddox’s cheeks. His aide reached over with a tissue to wipe them, but he turned his face away, one of the only ways he could physically set a boundary.

Maddox’s aide helped him into the hallway and then left the two of you alone. You sat down on one of the small, metal benches in the hallway. At this angle, you were about Maddox’s height. He was blubbering, trying to take deep breaths as more tears came. You pulled a small, clean, cloth handkerchief from your pocket. He let you dab his cheeks, giving him a gentle click of the tongue.

“Buddy, do you want to talk about it?”

“T-they’re so m..m..mean to me,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as more tears fell. “And, and, and I can’t play with them even, that’s why. I can’t do anything!”

You nodded empathetically, gently catching more of Maddox’s tears.

“I hate school! My daddy wants me to like school. It’s all he talks about. I hate him!”

“Maddox,” you softly redirected. “That’s not very nice. You don’t hate your dad.”

Maddox looked a deep breath. You smiled, knowing Spencer must have taught him to do that when he was upset.

“You’re right. But I’m sad, and I wanna go home.”

You sighed, reaching up to blot the little bit of redness still present on Maddox’s cheeks. You adjusted his glasses, moving some of his curly brown hair from underneath the metal.

“Just a few more hours, okay? We have library at the end of the day.”

Maddox’s face lit up, his apple cheeks glowing beneath the rims of his glasses. “Library!”

“Yes, and just for this week, you can take home two books.”

______________________________

Spencer felt distracted the entire flight to Vermont. He knew he was going to be far away for a while, and that Maddox wouldn’t know until he got out of school for the day. The agent detested when he had to leave without Maddox knowing in advance, but it was usually impossible given the nature of things. Thankfully, Reid had a good setup of support through healthcare and respite so Maddox never went without someone to care for him.

Then, there was you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your reaction. He had seen it before in abuse victims. The way you flinched when he moved too fast, the apologizing like your life depended on it, even the way you looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate to avoid a blow. He bridged his fingers together, thinking to himself for a moment.

With that, he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane. He unlocked his phone while he chewed his fingernail with his free hand. Before he knew it, he was calling Garcia.

“Penelope. Hey, I need a favor. A personal one. If you could keep it between us, that would be great.”

“Anything for you, my precious string bean.”

Spencer laughed. “I need you to get all the information you can on someone. Ivy Porter.”

“Ivy Porter. That’s like a movie star name. What did she do?”

“Um..nothing, I don’t think. Just call me when you’ve got something, and email me everything you find.”

“You got it. Every in and out of Ms. Ivy Porter coming to you soon. Be safe. Talk soon.”

With that, Penelope clicked off of the call. Spencer sat back down, anxiously waiting for whatever information Penelope could find about you.

___________

series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13 @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ @rainsong01 @kuolonsyoja @taralewiz @bluelittleblackgirl @asexual-booknerd @the-wolfie

[chanheeinc]

Love in a Slide (Juyeon One Shot)

Description: A Spin-off One Shot from THIS reaction post!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1431

You have known Juyeon since you two were 6, he stole your snack at lunch and you hated his guts until you were 16. Some say a ten year grudge is a little much, you say the jerk should have kept his hands to himself. He has since bought you many snacks, and stayed by your side no matter what. You two are together so often, your parents ask where he is if he didn’t come home with you that day or you didn’t go to his. After he debuted, you figured you wouldn’t see him anymore, but he makes sure to facetime you every night and ask how your day went. Most days you ask how his went, unless you could see how upset he was about something. The first time you noticed Juyeon’s sad eyes is when you started dating a guy on the soccer team in highschool. You at the time assumed it was because he was too busy with training that he didn’t have time for the sport and that made him upset. You never got used to how gloomy he would be when your boyfriend was around, so you broke up with him. You told Juyeon it was because he refused to open the door for you, he thought the reason was funny and smiled again for the first time in a long time. Now when you see Juyeon’s sad eyes, you tell him a story of your clumsy adventures for the day, making him smile. Last night he called you with new sad eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked before you could even register the words leaving your mouth.

“What do you mean? I’m just a bit tired,do I look bad?” Juyeon rubbed his face.

“Honestly? You look a little rough buddy,” You tell him. “ When is your break?”

“Next week, we get two days off.”

“Come over to mine then! All of you, we can have a staycation!” You say enthusiastically.

Juyeon agrees that a staycation seems fun, The Boyz members all text you how excited they are to come. Your apartment lets you set up tents on the tennis court, since no one uses it anyways. You get camp foods and drinks, determined to make your friends have a good time, you spend your whole check on everything. By the time you get done stringing up lights, setting up the grill, and filling the coolers, The Boyz arrive with gifts in hand. You sprint to hug them, it has been about a year since you were next to Juyeon physically. Sangyeon ruffles your hair, Eric jumps in your arms, Hyunjae high-fives you, and Jacob hugs you tightly. Juyeon isn’t to be seen, you turn to ask where he is and met Juyeon’s eyes. He is squinting at you.

“Did you not see me?” He asks.

“Not even a little, how long have you been there?” You wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a hug. You rest your head on his chest as his arms snake around you.

“I got here first, maybe if you weren’t so entranced by Sangyeon you would have seen me.” You laugh at him and look up to see he isn’t smiling, odd.

“I guess I was just too excited to see everyone, sorry JuJu, don’t worry you are still my number one.” You see him smile slightly at that.

You grab Juyeon’s hand and skip to the campsite, The Boyz have already made themselves comfortable in the lawn chairs you set out. They all begin to talk about what has been going on since they last saw you. Changmin shows you pictures of his Chucky doll, Chanhee begs you to let him live with you, Sunwoo rests his head on your shoulder dramatically. Juyeon continues to hold your hand, not saying much. After Sangyeon tells some stories of everyone and Younghoon successfully falls over the lowered net about five times, it has gotten dark. You all enjoy a meal of grilled meat and down several drinks. After the dinner Kevin stands up and loudly asks to play Hide n Seek. You all eagerly agree, choosing Sangyeon to be it first. After four rounds you find yourself running for your life to the playground close to the Tennis Court, Juyeon deciding to join you like he has done for the previous rounds. This was always how you and he wound up playing games for school trips, never leaving each other’s side, you guess things haven’t changed much. You go through the bottom part of the slide, your legs being the only strong part about you so they can hold you up. Juyeon slides halfway down the entrance, his face inches from yours. You didn’t think anything of it, you’ve shared a bed with him several times, even a sleeping bag. You were so focused on listening for footsteps that you didn’t feel Juyeon’s eyes burning a hole in you. You finally glance at him to be startled by his serious face. Juyeon always gets serious around you when he has been drinking, something you forgot since you haven’t seen him in a while. His eyes flicker down for a second then back up, your heart pounding in your ears.

“I don’t think Jacob will find us for a while.” You say, voice cracking lightly..

“Hm?” Juyeon says.

“I said,” You begin to repeat yourself, Juyeon moving slightly closer to you, eyes looking lower again, you gulp.

“Jacob, not finding.” You sound like a caveman, Juyeon isn’t really listening anyways.

His face is close to yours, usually one of the two of you would jokingly make a fake vomit noise, but not tonight. He was inching closer to you, no room left. A second away from-

"Found you two!" Says Jacob.

You snap out of the daze the slide puts you in, Juyeon disappearing afterwards. The Boyz are tired from running around and all decide to crash, moving to their respected tents. You only bought four, three to a room. Jacob was supposed to share the tent with you and Juyeon, but he heads towards Kevin’s tent.

“Cobie, you're in my tent.” You stop him.

“I know, but since you haven't seen Juyeon in a while, I’ll give you two alone time.” Jacob smiles.

You thank him and help carry his things into the now crowded tent of Kevin, Eric, and Hyunjae. You unzip your tent to see Juyeon laying on his back. You flop down next to him, taking his hand. He hesitates to hold it, the first time that he has ever done so. You glance at him, his sad eyes are showing.

“The stars look lovely tonight.” You jokingly say looking up at the tents ceiling.

“I’m in love with you.” Juyeon says.

Your head turns so fast to look at him you hear it pop. His eyes are closed but you can see tears falling out of them. You sit up, letting go of Juyeon’s hand. “I Love you,” you’ve heard a million times, but “I’m in love with you,” is a new one. You grab the tissues you brought, dabbing the tears away from Juyeon’s eyes. You were close to his face again, just like in the slide. You don’t know if you love him or in love with him, you have never known. You always felt happy when he was around, you even liked when he hated your high school boyfriend, though you were unsure why. Maybe you are in love with him, maybe you’re selfish and just want him to love you.

“Are you sure?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, a dumb question but the only thing you can think of.

“Positive.” His voice cracks.

“For how long?” At this point you are stalling to make up your mind.

“I don’t know how long I’ve been in love, but I’ve had a crush on you since we were six. That’s why I stole your snack.” His eyes close harder, like that stops the tears and not pushes them out.

You laugh. Confused, he opens his eyes, tears falling even more rapidly. You cover your mouth, wiping away his tears. All of these emotions begin at a lunch time snack. You didn’t need any more time. You lean down and kiss him, he instantly kisses back. A thousand sparks shoot off through your body, he grabs you and pulls you closer. You pull away and rest your head on his chest, you can hear his rapid heartbeat. He lays his hand on your back, holding you close.

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn���t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.