#and though she plays it off with biting sarcasm and such she feels like no matter how good and honest she is she can’t prove it to miranda

[pinkfey]

may possibly have a name n some ideas for the miranda oc i was considering 🤔

[choppeddreamworm]

Can I get something where fem reader/(Y/N) is in the school musical/play and they are secretly dating James Hook and his crew don't want to go to the show cause it's "stupid" or something and James sneaks into the musical/play and sits in the back just to watch his secret gf.

Musicals have a special place in my heart so I loved when I got your request! I feel like my writing fell a bit flat towards the end but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

-nini 𓄿

One Act play

Pairing: Captain hook x fem! reader

Warnings: none, just hook being rude :] not to you though Word count: 2.2 k (not proofread apologies for grammar/writing mistakes! )

———————————————————————————————————

Song used:

———————————————————————

       "15 minutes till opening!" your directors loud voice notified the cast. The people below you conversed amongst each-other as they tried to fix the bottom of your dress. You held your arms up subconsciously trying not to block them, the puffy shoulders not helping. Before the director had come in and interrupted your train of thought you were running over your lines even mouthing some out loud if needed to fix your pitch. But now you could feel how overbearing your quick pulse and butterflies in your stomach fluttered enough to feel them in your throat. were.

This was the day you'd actually perform the musical you and your classmates had been working on for weeks. You put your heart soul into the auditioning process and your effort paid off because you got the lead role! To add to the overwhelming pressure you had invited your pirate boyfriend to come watch. Which gave you a whole new reason to take this play seriously. He had assured you to not over stress your little head about it but you wanted it to be perfect. No one knew the love you shared with the villain and this was the closest it would come to both of you seen in the same room without suspicion arising.

"Come on Uli it won't be so terrible," hook wasn't one to actually beg with the sea witch but he was trying to keep true to the promise he made you that he'd be there. It would be less weird if him and the Vk's arrived maybe cause some havoc afterward his leader would just have to agree to it. Uliana had other plans though she was too focused on fixing her appearance. It was fitting her room having a big mirror just for her. "I don't want little royals in my ears, singing songs about sappy true love or happy endings!" She puts her hands close to here face as she purposefully makes her voice whinny, mocking the overdone perfect fairy tale stories told. Hades and Maleficent can't help but chuckle at Ulianas   Sarcasm from across the room. Both laying on Mals bed since Uliana and Maleficent shared a room. Hook tries to not seem tense over the unknowing  jab Ursula's sister had taken on his royal girlfriend. Uliana rolls her eyes seeing that hook didn't bite back and goes back to her reflection instead. Hooks eyebrows lift, trying to give Mal a knowing look of "help me out" since she was the only one who knew of you being his lover. To which she ultimately just shrugs her shoulders at him going back to making heart eyes at hades. He looks towards Morgie knowing he'd jump on the bandwagon but for once he was actually focused on doing his biology homework. Something about different dog breeds...

He sighs, opening his mouth before Uliana cuts him off. "-While all of you are blinded by futile ... desires," she turns back around taking in Morgie actually doing homework like some good student at Mekong Academy and the two love birds doing nothing but gazing into each others eyes. She immediately belittles them in her head, "I have better things to tend to". Her tentacles push Hook as she stomps towards the front door. He bites back a snarl,not helping but at-least let a snarky remark leave his lips before she leaves, "don't let your tentacles get caught on your way out!". Which only earns him a little shut up from Uli. He laughs to himself mumbling how good the joke was only to be met with defeating silence now taking over the room. His other friends so caught up in their own personal "adventures".

"Yeah.. I'll just be going as-well, I love all of you too!" He whispers to himself as he follows Ulianas actions by walking out of the room. If he'd have to go alone then so be it.

"Giselle! you're up in five" One of the backstage managers gave you a smile along with small nudge as she called you by your characters stage name. You could only give a pitiful excuse for a grin back. A few tremors going through your body, clammy hands playing with the stage curtains. The people playing narrators were already on stage giving the intro to the audience. From your nervousness you couldn't help but peep in behind the curtains. A theatre half full, with many faces you recognized from classes except one... 

Your eyes desperately scanned each row staring with hope but ending in disappointment. While your heart seemed to try to beat out of your chest and eyes trying to start streaming like a faucet you stated to focus on evening your breath. It would be a shame if you had to force the makeup team to give you a last minute touch up. So instead of focusing on the missing villain in the crowd you started playing with your fingers. He would surely show up soon.

"ticket please," the female student located behind the table declared to a stumped Hook. "admissions should be free this is a school event,"  he answered back in frustration. The ability to afford the entrance fee was not of question it was the fact his valuables would not match school accepted currency. "yes should be, but tonights the opening night for the play though," she sticks her hand out more obviously. He shouldn't have used you as an excuse but he was grasping onto last resorts here plus he didn't tell the complete truth so your relationship was safe, "look lass my... friends in the play, main lead actually-". His words were cut short by the girls obnoxious snort, "your girlfriend- the main lead?" yeah sure!". She jeered looking him up and down not believing a pirate let alone a villain was associated with any person in the musical cast. "maybe you're just mistaken so I'll say this once, your holding up the line.. move" her demeanor changed from taunting to serious, hand no longer stretched out instead now holding a firm position down on the table. Hook leaned down, trying to see if he could intimidate his way in, but he remembered it wouldn't look so good on his part, dulling your staring moment and not seeing you act. "That hair looks awful on you darling maybe ask Fay to bippity bopitty fix that for you yeah?," he let the hook drag on the table a little too hard, ripping the table cloth just a good amount till deciding it was enough. While he strides away from the table towards the outside of the building the ticket girl that had attend him cant help but grab at her hair starting to doubt her own appearance.

He was trying to do things right and the universe seemed to be throwing it back in his face. Many scenarios played out in his head, his love distraught and hurt. There was no way he'd let that happen, he was sure there were other entrances not just so openly disclosed to the public. Presented perfectly to him while walking outside near the backside of the building was a door labeled 'storage', slightly opened, letting only a wisp of light out many people would probably miss but, not him.

The audiences claps brought you back to reality along the narrators walking off the stage towards you giving you a small 'break your leg'. Your breath caressed your teeth watching the lights dim exponentially, being able to conjure only the light silhouette of the props crew setting your scene up. A cozy forest with a castle far in the background. Last thing they did was talk into their mic, giving a thumbs up before leaving the stage. The darkness only teased you with going back in your head the blasting music with the violins and drums made you tense back into your senses. Your feet walked forward in airplane mode until reaching next to the prop mannequin created by you. A few thumps followed behind you, turning towards the dark audience you were met with the other cast kneeling in front of you dressed as animals. Lights slowly coming alive.

Hook was traveling through a dark room quietly before the loud music spooked him making him run into something. He was left cringing more as the objects falling caused a commotion. A few muffled voices made him sprint to the other end of the room where another door was. His eyes deprived of light were blinded when instantly met by the harsh bulbs. As he tried to recuperate people passed by him some dressed in office work clothes, others as animals and one specifically as a squirrel. He tried regain his posture realizing he was backstage. One passer by not helping but say, "I thought pirates weren't supposed to happen till the last act?". Deciding against asking for help since he must've already attracted attention dressed as he was, he tried finding his way cutting across many corners. Until he heard your voice traveling through the walls. He immediately grabbed some unsuspecting victim immediately, "you! where the door to the theatre seats?!". Too afraid to even speak they pointed to a door directly in his sight. He let them go without another thought dashing to the entrance.

"when you meet the someone, who was meant for you" you perked with a bit of faultiness, still struggling with getting into character. "Before two can become one theres something you must do...." your eyes were stuck on the audience still searching for hook. The character was gleeful and confident not unsure and meek.

"do you pull each others tails?" one of the cast members dressed as a bunny pulled on your arms while delivering their line. Which wasn't part of the act but it successfully made you remember your next steps. "Do you feed each other seeds?". You gently took their hand off you, your response along with your next words made it seem intentional. A small chuckle fought your lips , "No, there is something sweeter, Every-body-needs". With every jingle you touched each actors nose. A little sadness lingered in your heart when you looked up to the mannequin with dark hair dressed in red and a fork in his hand per your request.  "Ive been dreamin' of a true loves kiss, and a prince I'm hoping comes with this," the longing in your eyes as you looked at the inanimate object were real and . "Thats what brings ever-aftering, so happy," you gave fork a light touch with the tips of your fingers. Your head went back towards the "animals" who were supposed to be learning from you,"thats the reason we need lips so much". You made small motions with both your fingers connecting them, "for lips are the only things that touch".

"So to spend life of endless bliss.. just find who you love through true love's kiss,-" towards the middle of the singing you looked up with closed eyes feeling the words in your heart. Then with the last few words you looked up onto the crowd, hands out, a small figure towards the back side of the theatre cutting your last note short. You could recognize the frame of your lover anywhere even when you had blasting white lights rendering you blind. He raised his arm, dismissing any doubt in your mind was a shadow of a hook. When James had first laid eyes on you while singing your third verse he had to do a double take. The dress was so dramatic yet you looked so beautiful like A true princess indeed. Even more heartwarming was the fact he came in when you were singing those romantic words to a mannequin that suspiciously resembled him. 

Finally having his eyes on you made you miss your queue to riff, too focused on the way your pulse skipped and how embarrassing your wardrobe must've looked. Big, puffy and white to imitate the wedding taking place in the act. A big true grin now on your face played perfectly into the next sequence, the animals singing about you, repeating your own words. "She's been dreamin' of a true love's kiss," they start circling you. "And a prince she's hoping comes with this," you follow their gestures to the dummy next to you, making your advancements towards it. "Thats what brings ever-afterings, so happy,"  once they finished the verse and onto the next you started swaying with them, "and thats the reason we need lips so much For lips are the only things that touch".  

You gave a wonderful spin letting the artistry of the fabric be shown while your cast members last note rang out. A foot in-front of the other you step closer towards the edge of stage, hands clasping each other  on your chest. " So to spend a life of endless bliss," you cheeks puff, eyes finding the pirate in the audience once again as if singing to him you let passion flow out of you. " just find who you love through true loves kiss"

James didn't hide the big mushy look on his face, he spent every moment in public hiding his feelings for you but the darkness in the auditorium offered him hide out. Where even in everyones eyes you were just acting only two hearts shared their emotions out in public with no one having a clue just them. Ulianas words did make him want to laugh though, this play had just been "little royals in my ears, singing songs about sappy true love or happy endings". Except it was like a dedicated love letter to him and only to him by his theatre loving girlfriend. He would cherish it till his death bed, "embarrassing" parts and all.

———————————————————————

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | four.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 10k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scene!, twerkin buns at the clurrrb 🤪, kissing/making out, quick rundown of oc's history with mingi, physical altercation, mention of small injuries/wounds (lip cut), arguments, crying, the silent treatment 💀, hints of a hookup, oc x seonghwa just being a mess per usual sorry 😫 lol

"Are you still riding with me and Joong to the club?" Seonghwa puts your call on speaker while he sits in the passenger's seat of Hongjoong's car.

"Yeah, if I can."

"Can we head over then?"

"Sure. I'm still getting ready."

"We figured." Hongjoong chuckles in the driver's seat, turning into a lot. "What do you want from Egg House?" Seonghwa inches the phone away from his face when you squeal loudly and clap.

"Double egg toast, please!"

"Okay. We'll be there in about 30 minutes or so."

"Thank you!" You hang up the call first and Seonghwa lets out a breath, slouching further in the seat.

"It's so easy to please Y/N." Hongjoong laughs, finding a spot in the opposite end the lot closest to the shop.

"Sometimes."

"San ever tell you about their dinner?"

"Not really. Y/N did. A bit. She was being kinda weird about it, actually."

"Hm." He hums, figuring if it was gonna come from someone, it would be him. "That's probably because they talked about you."

"Me?" Seonghwa furrows his brows in confusion. "What about me?" No wonder you were being so weird about the topic at the aquarium. You couldn't tell him the full story, even though Seonghwa wished you would've. It'd make things way easier.

"What do you mean 'what about you?'" Hongjoong laughs as he heads to the self-checkout area to order. "These unspoken feelings, that's what."

"What did San say?"

"He asked if you two had anything going on with each other."

"Why is that a question when there clearly isn't?"

"Mm, well.." Hongjoong's response has a drip of sarcasm that has Seonghwa

"He didn't have to do that."

"He just didn't wanna get in between anything, of course he had to." Seonghwa is silent and he's biting his tongue because even though he has a rebuttal ready to slip— he's not entirely sure why he'd be defensive and fight back about it.

Hongjoong and San were right. It's not like everyone wasn't aware. The only person who seemed to be was you.

"I don't know what Y/N said. But whatever it was.. was enough for San to just back off." 

"He shouldn't give up on her."

"Him or you?" Joong laughs. "I mean they're still going to be the same. Good friends. I don't think anything was lost. They're probably both comfortable this way, too. Maybe that's just how it's supposed to play out." Joong shrugs. Which, it isn't much of a surprise to Seonghwa when he hears this, especially when you started talking about the potential of ruining things—

♡ FLASHBACK

"As friends. Like we always were." You tug on his wrist. "Hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would that ruin things between us?" Seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

"Why would it ruin things between us?"

"I don't know, because we've always known each other like this. As bestfriends. It could be a dangerous thing, right? Cause we'd know too much about each other or whatever." You look up at him, and he locks his eyes with yours. He wishes he could say everything and nothing at once— but he sticks with the latter, his own example of keeping everything at bay. 

"I truthfully don't think it'd ruin anything."

"B-because I feel like it would and that's why I'm just letting things be with San."

"You sure that's it? Cause I feel like you're asking for a different reason, and not for San in particular."

♡ END

"Hate when you do that." 

"Hate when I'm right and you're wrong.. again?" Seongwa finishes plugging in his order and yours before checking out.

"I got it since you're driving today." Is all he responds before snatching the receipt.

"More gas money for me." Hongjoong snickers, plopping onto a high stool off to the side of the restaurant to wait for the food. 

"Did San say anything else to you?" Joong shrugs and shakes his head.

"Nah. But, he seems to be the same."

"Gotta talk to him." Seonghwa mainly mutters to himself. He just wants San to be okay because he didn't want this idea of you and him getting in the way [despite his feelings]. That was never his intention. But before he can fall into a rabbit hole with his thoughts, his name is being called and a bag full of food is being pushed his way. Joong is already on his way to the car, unlocking the doors to hop in and drive off to your place with a quickness— especially because he was hungry.

When they arrive at your place, they pass through the house to say their hello's to Yaya with Seonghwa handing off the extra sandwich he remembered to buy for her. She happily thanks them before waving them off, telling them that you're probably still getting ready in your suite.

"Hey!" Seonghwa knocks and yells. "Are you decent or whatever?"

"Yeah! Come in!" He hears from the other side just as he tugs on the doorknob. Walking in, he notices a few pieces of clothing scattered along your bed and couch, with you head deep into your closet.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Finding an outfit, what does it look like?" Your response is mumbled as you dig deep into the depths of your closet to find that black cotton mini skirt and a few tops. "Got it!" You hold up a bodysuit and a regular tank in the same color. "Body suit or tank?"

"How the hell are you gonna pee?" Hongjoong asks mid-chew. "Unbuttoning that coochie holder while drunk is crazy."

"You're sick, Kim Hongjoong."

"Nah, tell me. How is that gonna work?" Seonghwa silently takes out your sandwich and plops next to him on the couch.

"He's got a point. I'm not going into that bathroom to save you."

"Ugh." You groan, tossing the bodysuit aside and settling for the tank. "I'll figure out the rest later." You plop next to Hongjoong's free side. "Thank you for the food." You smile over at them.

"Hwa bought it." Hongjoong's eyes are glued to the TV. 

"Thank you, pichu."

"Mhm." Seonghwa responds from his end. 

"Why are San and Woo going separately?"

"San has to help his uncle with something and it might run a bit long. Woo offered to go with him so he wouldn't be alone."

"Mm." You hum. "Hope it doesn't go long."

"Aw. You miss Sannie?" Hongjoong playfully pouts and you hit him on the bicep.

"You're so fucking mean to me." Joong laughs loudly when you continue to whine, Seonghwa contently eating away while watching the show.

"You guys good or what?"

"Yeah, I just want all of us together."

"We will be, don't worry." Seonghwa chimes in and passes you your food. "Eat. I know you'll need like 500 hours to get your makeup and hair done." You glare at him before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You, Joong and Hwa continue to talk amongst each other while watching the TV before you gather the strength to finally get ready for the night. You turn on your bluetooth speaker, blasting your playlist while you get dressed and get your makeup going. Seonghwa has taken a few pregame shots with you in between, now sipping on a canned cocktail to keep him going while you finish up your makeup and hair. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the oversized black denim jacket, mini skirt, tank and knee high heeled boots you threw on. Your makeup was simple, but enough to pop.

"Damn." Hongjoong teases, playfully checking you out and flattening his brows with two fingers while Seonghwa rolls his eyes. But, he has to say— he's fucking dying inside because of how fine you look tonight.

So fucking beautiful, and Seonghwa wishes he could have you all to himself.

"Go away." You laugh, walking through a cloud of perfume. "I'm ready!"

"About time." Seonghwa teases. "You look good." He breaks contact as he shuts off your bluetooth speaker and is the first to head out the door.

"Thanks, pichu." You shut off the lights and lock your door. "Do you have the bottle?"

"Make sure to hide that shit in the car, I'm not getting pulled over." Hongjoong says, unlocking his car. You hop into the backseat and tuck the unopened soju bottle aside— keeping it safe until you get to the club.

It's a 20 minute drive before Joong is circling the streets to find a good spot. When he finally gets lucky and finds one just a block down, he reverses into the spot flawlessly before shutting off the car and giving off a deep sigh.

"Have at it." He says, texting San to find out his whereabouts while you and Seonghwa continue to pregame some more and finish the bottle. The alcohol is hitting you quickly tonight, the soju being the cherry on top. Joong tells you San and Wooyoung have parked nearby, giving you all the greenlight to meet them halfway and walk together to the club.

You [drunkly] scream loudly when you see the two; running into their arms and letting them swing you around. You feel happier when you're all together, excited for what the night has to bring. You cling onto Seonghwa without realizing, the group behind you two as you walk side by side while engaging in conversation.

"Seonghwa! Why would you say that!" You and Seonghwa laugh loudly while walking down the street to the club. San can't help but divert his attention to you two ahead; watching as you naturally joke around, laugh and playfully bicker. You cling onto Seonghwa and continue to attach yourself to his hip, and the reality settles for San even more.

He is sad, but it's clear this is where you're supposed to be.

Seonghwa continues to tell you his story, leaning in to tell you delicate details even as you fall in line for the club. San realizes things surely haven't changed, because for you and Hwa, all you see is each other. You both don't ever purposefully make anyone feel left out, but at the end of the day, Hwa was always going to prioritize you and vice versa.

This is your own world and San only plays a little part in it. And that's okay. That's completely okay. You deserved to be happy and that's all he wants for you. All he wants for Hwa.

When security finally checks your IDs and lets your group in, the club is packed from wall to wall and you're having to hold Seonghwa's hand while navigating through the crowd. Hongjoong is behind you, gripping at the belt loop of your skirt to help lead the other two trailing him.

"Aye, over there!" Hongjoong tugs on your belt loop and points at the free bartender towards the other end of the club nodding with his lips while nodding. You take the hint and get Seonghwa to navigate to the free area. Once you're there, you feel like you're able to breathe, being able to spread your arms and move around freely.

"Let's go get some drinks from the bartender over there, it isn't busy." Seonghwa points to the small bar area towards the back end. Your group follows, instantly asking the bartender for a few shots of tequila, whiskey, whatever each chose as their own poison. 

The shots are taken to the neck, and before you know it, you're dancing away on the dance floor with your friends. Wooyoung manages to grab a few dances from cuties nearby, dragging San along to cheer him up and find someone he could possibly have fun with. But, amidst all that and all the numbers he manages to grab, he still finds himself looking for you so he can at least have a dance. 

"Y/N?" San comes to you, cheeks tinted red as his hand  caresses at his jaw. 

"What's wrong, Sannie? Are you okay?" You look up at him with those eyes, your hand on his bicep. You're both clearly drunk out of your minds but jesus, is he having trouble containing himself. 

"Y-yeah." He hiccups. "I just wanted to ask if you'd dance with me?" You giggle and nod.

"Let's go!" You grab his hand and take the initiative. At some point the crowd builds and you're separated from your group— Wooyoung floating somewhere out in the chaos, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa are pulling further and further away. You continue to dance with San though, enjoying every moment and having fun while with him. He keeps up with your rhythm, holding you close but making sure you still have enough freedom to move however you want, have space however you want. But, you continue to work on him and dance along to the music, forgetting any worries for the night.

You dance with San for a good chunk of time before you start searching for Seonghwa, who is no longer nearby. You catch wind of him, but your body decides this is the perfect time to break the seal.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You turn to San and tippy-toe to his ear.

"You okay? Want me to come and wait?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll be back." You give him a small reassuring smile before rushing off to the bathroom and waiting in the tiny line that had formed outside the door. You're in and out within 5 minutes, washing your hands and patting your face down with how stuffy the club had gotten. After handling your business in peace, you realize that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are even more separated than you thought when you exit the bathroom— no longer being able to spot them on the main dance floor, especially due to being inebriated. You finally find Wooyoung and San together, tugging on Wooyoung's sleeve to grab his attention.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Iono!" Wooyoung shrugs. "Last time I checked he was somewhere over there with Joongie." He nods in the far back corner behind you. You give Wooyoung's arm a squeeze to thank him before pushing your way through the crowd towards the potential Hongjoong and Seonghwa spot. When you get there, Hongjoong is definitely nowhere to be found, but Seonghwa is talking to some girl. He's leaning in towards her ear in order for her to hear him, and she laughs at whatever the fuck he's saying. It lowkey kinda irks you, even though you have no reason to be feeling that way. You should be happy Seonghwa is putting himself out there and flirting away at the club. 

Not feeling jealous or envious in the least bit that she is occupying his time and space.

"Hey." You come up to him just as she giggles and playfully flips her hair, turning on her heels to walk away. She gives him one last look before she sways her hips and continues walking towards her friends, all of them squealing over the encounter in the middle of the club. "I see you've been busy." He shrugs.

"That's the girl I met. Makayla." You subtly roll your eyes and tap his chest.

"Okay, well I've been looking for you." You kinda pout.

"What's wrong?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you and I couldn't find you for the longest time." He laughs.

"You were dancing with Sannie, weren't you?" He taps your nose. He says it like it's a light, teasing joke, but deep down, Seonghwa had to step away and get outta that spot. He's not gonna lie, he is relieved you're finally looking for him and finding him. 

"So?" He laughs.

"Well, you found me? Stop pouting. We came here to have fun and you're gonna be with me all night." He gently runs a finger down your bottom lip that is still poking out in a pout. 

"Where'd Joong go?"

"Bathroom." 

"Let me grab San and Woo—" Seonghwa tugs at your hand just as you're about to turn, a small frown on his face. As you look at him, not only do you realize how drunk you still are, but you can also pick up on how drunk Seonghwa is, too. His eyes are red and glazed over, cheeks also tinted with a rosey hue. 

Which, with the way he's looking at you, can't be a good thing. 

This won't end well.

And you truly do not care right now.

"Uh-uh, I thought you wanted to hang out for a bit. Dance with me." He says, pulling you flush against him while his teeth subtly nibble on his bottom lip.

"Hwa." You get all shy and unlike yourself, most definitely from the alcohol and the way he's looking at you up and down. You let him keep you close, beginning to dance against him and go with the beat of the current song blasting through the club. 

To set the record straight first and foremost— it's not like you haven't danced with him before. You have, and those times have been careless, free and fun. You didn't have a care in the world, Seonghwa didn't. It wouldn't last because it was harmless fun before you were onto the next and brushing it off like it was any ordinary thing between you two.

Because it was.

Tonight, it isn't. The air is different, and the energy between you two is supercharged; strong, an incredible pull to each other. The air is extra thick and like no other you've experienced with him. You can't really explain it right now, but with recent events, you just know you want Seonghwa.

Just like he wants you.

So you dance, and you dance. The two of you have pushed to the farthest corner of the club that Hongjoong never seems to return to Seonghwa [or maybe he did and didn't wanna bother] and the two of you are left in your own little world. He's still keeping you close, a tight grip on your hips as he feels every inch, every move against him, doing his best to keep up with the rhythm, you.

And god, is it turning you on.

You turn to face him when the song transitions into the next, finding that Seonghwa can't take his eyes off of you. He stares through his hooded lids while he rests against the metal railing, hands still at your hips while your face is only inches away. You watch as his eyes shoot down to your lips, back up to your eyes as if he's begging, pleading, you to make the first move. Because that will be the confirmation he needs— that will open up a whole new box that Seonghwa had been waiting to open, break the lock to a door he had been waiting to walk through. But also, he's too scared to make the first move. Too scared he'd be overthinking, that you're just drunk and you wouldn't mean it—

Suddenly, the impact of your lips crashing into his quickly pulls him out of his thoughts. Instead of breaking away at that moment, the kiss instantly becomes heated, deep. And Seonghwa has to forcibly pull himself off of you because even though he wants this so, so badly, it'll ruin everything if you truly didn't mean anything by it.

"What're you doing, Y/N?" He breaks away and leans towards your ear. His voice is husky and deep, loud enough to barely be heard over the music.

"I can't kiss you?"

"Not if you don't mean it." He bites onto his bottom lip when he pulls back to look at you, hands still resting on your waist.

"Who said I didn't mean it, Hwa?" You say in his ear, shivers running down his spine when he feels your lips graze your jaw. He probably should think about this, really think about this, but he can't. He's just as fucked up as you are, and he's feeling a bit selfish, a tad bit horny. You're positioned in between his legs looking beautiful as ever even under the dim club lights.

He can't help himself.

He cups your cheek as he pulls you back in, kissing you with so much more fervor. He hears you let out a content sigh in between kisses, pressing your body up against him as you grip the sides of his shirt.

"Driving me crazy." He says, pulling back and letting his nose lightly glide over yours. The both of you are slightly panting, lips swollen from all the intense kisses just shared. You'd do it over and over again, though. And if it were up to you, you'd take this home to explore a little further.

You want Seonghwa.

"Am I?" You continue to tease.

"Y/N." He gives you a look. "You have no idea what you do to me." His voice is still husky, deep; vibrating through your ears and sending tingles down your spine. He leans in for another deep, last kiss; biting onto your bottom lip and tugging back before letting it go. He dips to your jaw, to your neck— painting the surface with feathery kisses and tiny, subtle bites.

"Hwa, we're still out." You giggle and gently tap his chest. 

"Right." He sheepishly smiles and continues to hold you.

"I'm gonna grab some water real quick. We should try and find everyone when I come back."

"Let me just come with you." He grabs at your hand.

"I'll be fine, pichu." You smile toothlessly at him. "I'll be back before you know it. Try to text one of the boys! Save our space!"

"Fine." Seonghwa slightly whines as he lets go of your hand and watches you walk off. At this point, San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong find him without Seonghwa having to lift a finger— both San and Wooyoung carrying two glasses in their hands.

"Aye! Finally fucking found your ass. Where's baby girl? Got more shots." Wooyoung looks around for your familiar figure.

"She went to get water."

"I got it right here. Tequila water." Wooyoung snorts at his failed attempt of a joke.

"You're an idiot." Seonghwa shakes his head and takes the glass, holding onto it while looking around the room. It hasn't been long, but he's hoping you haven't been swallowed by the crowd and are at least at the bar requesting for water.

"Let's wait for Y/N." San adds.

"Sounds good with me." Wooyoung shrugs.

5 minutes quickly turns into 10 and you're still not back from your water run. Seonghwa can't help but be worried, eyes now frantically scanning every inch of the room to catch any glimpse of you.

"Damn, that's a long water break. Should we just go to the bar and find her?" Whatever Wooyoung's saying is completely drowned out by Seonghwa because he finally spots you, and he's fuming. Everything in the club seems to drown out, and it almost feels like white noise. Hwa finds you at the opposite corner of the bar, and of course, Song Mingi would be the person you're occupied with. That's why you haven't returned, of fucking course. He continues to watch from his spot, feeling unsettled from the entire situation. It starts off pretty normal, until Mingi starts whispering near your ear; doing his best to pull you close, keep you close. He sees you gently rejecting Mingi's touches, shoving off his hand and pushing his arm away— clearly making you uncomfortable. Seonghwa finds his free hand balled into a fist, already boiling with anger at how Mingi doesn't read any of your signs.

Instead, continues to put you through it because he's your ex. He thinks he can get away with it. He knows he can.

"I'll be back." Seonghwa says taking the shot in one swift motion, setting his empty glass aside on the high table nearby. San furrows his brows as he watches him leave, following his trail over to the opposite end of the club.

"Oh shit." San says under his breath, and Hongjoong is confused.

"What?"

"Mingi." He points over to the other side of the club and Joong lets out a sigh, followed by a heavy—

"Fuck."

As Seonghwa comes from behind, Mingi is the first to spot him and smirks. You don't really notice until Mingi has stopped trying to get close to you, turning over your shoulder to see your own bestfriend shooting daggers his way.

"What's up, Seonghwa?" The way Mingi says his name is so fucking annoying, Hwa can't help but roll his eyes. Mingi leaves out his hand in hopes of Hwa taking it in a friendly dap. All Seonghwa does is look at it before returning his attention back up to him, then back to you.

"Come on. Let's go." Hwa mutters as tries to gently drag you away by the wrist, but Mingi stops him.

"Woah. We were just having a conversation."

"Back up." Seonghwa steps in front of you and tries to get Mingi to back up, creating some distance between you two.

"Kinda rude for someone to intervene when they have no business to."

"Didn't know that required you to put your hands on her."

"Seonghwa." You warn, but he doesn't listen.

"Of course." Mingi laughs and licks his lips before closing in on the distance, clearly drunk and trying to be belligerent by provoking Seonghwa. His face is only a couple of inches away from Seonghwa's, but he isn't doing anything to back down from whatever the fuck Mingi is trying to start. Because yeah, he's drunk too, and this is you they were talking about. "Wanna be all high and mighty now? Be the knight in shining armor you always tried to be?" Mingi snickers.

"Back away from me, Mingi." Seonghwa warns lowly. "Step the fuck away."

"Or what? The fuck are you gonna do about it, Seonghwa?" Mingi mutters. "Think she'll finally give into you?" He chuckles pathetically. "Finally give you what you've been wanting for years? I know you've always been mad because you couldn't bag her when I did. Couldn't touch her, fuck her like—" Seonghwa pushes him with so much power that Mingi stumbles and fall back on a high table nearby, knocking over a glass as his arm hits the table. Mingi recovers quickly though, glaring at him as he pushes Seonghwa back and tries to land a punch on him. Mingi successfully lands it when Hwa fails to dodge, cutting the corner of his lip after the impact. They continue to go at it, causing people to step back and watch the chaos ensue from around.

"Hwa! Get off! Stop!" You scream, trying to pry him off. San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung rush over, both San and Joong having to separate the two until the bouncers come and kick your group and Mingi's group out of the club.

"Jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung glares at the bouncer and throws his hands up. "Okay, okay, we're going!"

"Let me catch you, fucking punk!" You hear Mingi yell as him and his group walk down the opposite block, the bouncers still keeping an eye on your groups to make sure nothing occurs outside of the club and requires police activity. You walk a few steps before you push Seonghwa by the shoulder, forcing him to look at you as he tends to his lip.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" You look at him and Seonghwa's almost taken aback by your reaction. 

What do you even mean?

He did this to protect you and keep you away from that asshole, but you don't even seem the least bit concerned about him.

At all.

"W-what?" Seonghwa looks at you, his chest rising as he tries to calm himself from all the adrenaline and anger. 

"You didn't have to do that!" You yell, on the verge of tears. You're angry at Seonghwa, but you're angry because you hate seeing him hurt. You hate that he intervened, you hate that he's hurt because of the fight. You're angry, you're hurt, and everything is coming out all wrong. "I was fine, you didn't have to get in between, Seonghwa!"

"The hell you mean I didn't?!"

"Hwa." Hongjoong calls for him, eyeing the bouncers nearby.

"He wasn't doing anything!"

"Here you go again! Be serious for once, Y/N. He's a fucking asshole! When are you going to realize that?!"

♡ FLASHBACK

"Yeah, whatever. Fuck you, Song Mingi." You walk out of his room, aggressively wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Fucking crazy. Get the hell outta here!" He yells from his room, causing you to flip him off as you walk down the hallway and out of his front door. 

Song Mingi was a certified asshole.

Time and time again, your ex-boyfriend of 2 years proves to you that you just aren't shit to him. Two years, then an on-and-off again situation where Mingi just couldn't commit to you again — but he needed you to feel wanted, to feel like he had a safety blanket to fall on, to feel like he could string you along until that very last moment he couldn't. He'd whisper sweet nothings whenever he saw you late nights; no longer leaving his home to go on dates, but to stay wrapped up in his sheets. Telling you things he knows will make you weak, thing he knows will make you stay a little longer. All these years of this back and forth game you played with your ex, you had no idea why you couldn't just learn and do better for yourself instead of letting him reel you in, making you think he genuinely wanted and needed you.

There was no one like you.

You, so perfect.

You, made just for him. 

You should've known better.

This was no one else's fault but your own. You let him in, you let him in, you let him in. And you fall for it every single time, knowing you were never going to be his one and only again, knowing you weren't the only one he was keeping around. But for whatever sick reason, you wanted to believe you could get him to change again. You wanted to believe you meant more to him, that your history meant more to him. But that's all it was— wishful thinking.

Empty words built on shaky foundation.

So here you are, after he had called you saying he had missed you and wished you were near him. Here you are, crying everything you have left in you after giving him what he wanted. Here you are, after hearing that this wasn't anything to Mingi, that you weren't anything to Mingi. Here you are, broken to pieces, empty, soulless.

Again and again.

"Fucking asshole." You groan to yourself, tears streaming steadily as you head down the street from his building to a random corner. You sit on the sidewalk, kicking aggressively at the rocks beneath your feet. You give one last good grunt out of frustration before you rest your arms on your knees, head hanging low to let all your tears fall freely.

You had been crying so hard that you hadn't realized a car had pulled up in the empty spot near the curb you sat on, car being turned off before someone steps out and shut their door. You suddenly feel a hand on your back and you instantly ease up, knowing exactly who that touch belongs to.

"Hwa." You look at him, watery eyes blood shot red. He can't help but feel sorry for you, you're aware. You can tell by the way his brows soften when he sees how torn up you are, you can tell by the way his lips poke out because he isn't really sure what else he can say at this point. He shouldn't have to say anything anymore. He shouldn't be here—

You shouldn't be here.

"I told you to stay put." He teasingly scolds you, but you continue to look at him with that sad, pathetic look. "Let's get home, hm?" He follows up, free hand coming to wipe your tears away. You nod, allowing Seonghwa to help you up and into the car. He doesn't really say anything when he gets in and buckles his seatbelt, but he glances over at you, watches as you sink in the passenger's seat and look out the window.

He hates it, and he wishes he could do more to take this away from you. To keep you away from Mingi, to take away your pain completely.

It's not the first time Seonghwa's had to come get you. He's almost losing track of how many times you've called him crying because you wanted to leave a party after seeing Mingi flirting around [even though he'd deny it time and time again]. The times you've called because he left you at parties to hang out with other people, other girls. The times Mingi has disrespectfully called you out your name mid-argument, gaslighting you into thinking you were in the wrong.

Seonghwa's only hope is that one day, you'll finally get tired of your ex and move on. Leaving Mingi where he belongs, especially when he couldn't even give you the proper respect. Mingi's only reasoning for breaking up with you was that he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't do the relationship anymore. He just couldn't, and you knew what he truly meant— it just wasn't you anymore. 

And for months and months, you sat there wondering what you could've done differently, or if there was a sign that you had missed. Every time he called, it had you thinking he must've realized he couldn't do this without you, that he was wrong and that he did want this after all.

Nope.

He made you believe it for a night, yes. Then, he'd go back to reminding you what you actually meant to you— that you were delusional, that you kept forcing things between him. That you knew what this was.

You should've known what this was.

♡ END

"He wasn't even doing anything! Not shit you needed to step in between for! He was literally—"

"Oh my fucking god." Seonghwa groans. "And you're still defending him!" He yells, his brows furrowed when he turns to look at you. He feels like he can barely breathe due to the anger surging through his veins, plus the betrayal he's feeling with the way you're delivering your responses. The way you look at him. The way you're keeping your distance.

After everything, it still seems like you're taking Mingi's side. You always find a way to defend him one way or another, even if you don't realize it.

Seonghwa does, and it hurts.

"I'm not!" Your tone is louder. "I could've taken care of it myself, he wasn't doing anything!" You repeat.

"He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N! All up in your space, trying to force you to do shit when you didn't want it. Yet, you wanna tell me he wasn't doing anything?"

"I'm just saying it wasn't that big of a deal, Hwa! I could've handled it!"

"Really? I doubt that." 

"Wow, are you serious?" You say, hurt. But, he scoffs and continues because you need to hear this. 

"I am. You always let him push you around and walk all over you. I thought by now you'd be smart enough to realize that you're worth much more than that." His tone rises again. "Why do you always let him do this to you? You're so used to the way Mingi treats you and you do nothing to change that. You always let him in. You're so brainwashed and you literally have no respect for yourself, it's fucking sad."

"You know nothing about our relationship." You're crying and angrily wiping away at your tears, unsure of how else to act, what else to say. Sure, you and Seonghwa have gotten into petty fights and arguments. Mostly over dumb shit, but nothing ever this serious. You know he cares, and he means well. But this anger, this seemingly pent up frustration— you aren't entirely sure where it was stemming from. You have never seen him act this way and quite frankly, this part of Seonghwa is very difficult to navigate. 

You've never had to.

"Yeah, because I wasn't the one rescuing you in the middle of the night every time he decided to throw your ass out, right? Because I wasn't the one having to calm you down when you were crying? Because I wasn't the one whose had to pick up the pieces every time he broke your heart to try and chase after somebody else? When he says all those shitty things about you that get to your head? When he'd fucking leave you stranded?" He shakes his head. "I'm sure I know nothing about your relationship." The two of you are staring at each other, both at a loss for words after everything has been laid out on the table. Seonghwa is the first to break, having enough of this bullshit and not wanting to say anything else. Mostly because he still cares about you and your feelings, and it's breaking his heart to see you crying over him this time. "I'm done here. I'm sure San will take you home."

"Whatever, fuck you." You respond before turning on your heel to walk away. As soon as you've created enough distance between you and Seonghwa, you find yourself stopping in your path to sob into your hands. It isn't until a few minutes later that you feel hands on your arms, a familiar touch that belongs to somebody else dear to you—

"Hey, let's get you home." San says, with Wooyoung behind him. You can't see much due to the tears in your eyes, but you can tell it's Hongjoong walking alongside of Seonghwa, making sure he's okay and pushing him along towards the car.

"He'll be okay. Just needs some time to breathe." Wooyoung adds, holding out his arm so that you can slip yourself right underneath while walking to San's car. "You alright?" Wooyoung pouts, wiping some of the straggling tears escaping your bottom lids.

"Mhm." You lie, just to keep the walk quiet and peaceful. And it is for a bit, even as you sit in the backseat of San's car. The only thing filling the space is the music playing through bluetooth— Wooyoung's playlist, actually. San peeks over at you through the rearview mirror, feeling bad for how everything went down. But, he gets it. He gets Seonghwa. You do deserve better. Mingi should never get an ounce of your attention after how he's treated you— esp with Seonghwa being here all along.

"You know he just really cares about you, right?" San breaks the silence. 

"I know." You mumble, head leaning back against the seat while you look out the window. "I've just never seen him act that way."

"It's Mingi." Wooyoung adds. "Can I be honest?" He turns to look at you with doe eyes. "I'm not trying to attack you, I promise. We see both sides." You nod quietly. "It's hard when you have history with someone, and it's hard to undo bad habits you've learned in the relationship. We know Mingi was someone special to you, but he hasn't been good for you for a long time. And there's no changing that man at this point. If it's anybody, Seonghwa knows all of that very well, especially when he's been by your side throughout everything." Wooyoung lets out a small sigh. "I'm certain he's hurt because even after everything he's done to be there, Mingi's actions seem to be dismissible. And his actions get overlooked."

"Woo, I'm not even dismissing Mingi's actions."

"Okay, baby girl. You're not. But, I think Seonghwa would have appreciated if you were there for him tonight instead of getting upset. He just wants to keep you safe."

"His goal has always been to keep you safe." San adds softly, driving towards your place.

"I didn't want Hwa to get hurt, h-he didn't have to do that." You sniffle, leaning your head against the window.

"You know he's not gonna sit back and let that shit happen." Woo adds, also leaning his head back against the headrest— a small headache forming after tonight's events. When you finally get home, San and Wooyoung offer to stay the night to keep you company, but you politely decline. They walk you to the door and give you big hugs, asking you a million times if you're sure about being alone tonight.

And you quietly nod.

Because there's nothing else you'd rather be than alone tonight. You want to be alone in your own space, crying alone in your bed; head against the pillow, tucked underneath your sheets.

You want to be alone.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa is struggling. He isn't sure what to do, hates not having you by his side. He doesn't know what's gonna happen from here on out, what will be left of you two after all this.

From the kiss, to Mingi, to the argument.

It's so fucked up.

Seonghwa hadn't even realized how much of his life was dedicated to you— how much of his life was just you. Even when he tried so hard for it to not be you.

"Fuck!" Seonghwa groans and slams his hand against a brick wall in passing. 

"Aye, come on now." Hongjoong clicks his teeth and pushes him away from the wall, urging him to continue down the car. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I swear to God if I ever see Mingi—"

"You won't. He should know better, and hopefully Y/N does, too." Hwa lets out a hefty sigh as he swings Joong's door open and plops into the passenger's seat. Not much is said between the two, even as Hongjoong drives off to his place. Seonghwa rests his head back and shuts his eyes, equally angry, yet dizzy from the alcohol still running through him. 

"I don't know what to do, Joong. I can't keep doing this just for it to get me nowhere."

"You two really need to fucking talk." Hongjoong does a slight head tilt as he continues to drive to Seonghwa's place. "I don't mean to make this worse, but I saw you two." Seonghwa looks at him before resting his head back against the headrest again. "I didn't come so I could give you guys some space."

"Fuck." Hwa repeats again with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I don't know where this leaves us."

"Give it a few days or whatever, but you need to figure this out with her." Seonghwa doesn't speak anymore, mainly because he's starting to feel nauseous after the adrenaline, the alcohol. He's doing his best to keep it together. But, on top of that, he has a ton of thoughts swirling in his mind— he doesn't really know how to tackle them or where to even start. In the end, he's afraid of what this will do to your relationship.

You and him.

In the end, he just doesn't know anymore.

This is the longest Seonghwa hasn't talked to you. It's been a little over two weeks— usually, the two of you would break in a few hours, not wanting to be without the other for long.

But this, this was different.

Of course, everything felt awful. You both felt awkward about having to be the first person to break the silence, both remembering that night and how heated it had gotten.

The kiss.

The argument.

Everything about the situation felt like doom, chaos. A whole whirlwind of emotions and feelings overpowering each other, threatening to burst at the seams.

Seonghwa had thought long and hard about this, though. For him, he decided he just needed to step back and give himself a breather. Let him do things for himself, carry on with the mentality that he'd finally put himself first. So, that's what he's been trying to do. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck, though. It does. It's terrible. He's gotten so used to having you by his side, so used to running to you first about anything and everything.

He's had to bite his tongue when he finally nailed that fucking uni pasta recipe he had been experimenting for years. Because he wanted to tell you he did so, wanted to invite you over so you could be the first to taste it;

Oh well.

His heart sinks when the realization hits him again, and he's having to give himself a 'lil pep talk to push through. He can't be the person to say sorry first, he can't be the first to break— not when he didn't do anything wrong. He needs to stop apologizing when he's not in the wrong or when he feels bad. He's given you way too much of that, and this time around, he wasn't going to.

He needs you to be the first to break. Needs you to be the one to say sorry. Needs you to show him you understand and that you would never intentionally hurt him, especially over Song Mingi.

He's still counting the days. Maybe he'll have to keep doing so. Gives him time to himself, some peace. Let's him know how much you'd truly work to salvage your relationship with him.

Your own bestfriend before anything.

Because he knows he'd do anything to keep you by his side. He would. It just sucks that he doesn't know if you would do the same. He can't confidently say the same.

But, you absolutely would.  Days and nights have passed and you could barely sleep, always questioning what Seonghwa was doing and if he was even thinking about you. This was on you, though. You knew it. You just didn't know how to say it to him and it's definitely a learning lesson for you— all in all, you wanna be better and you wanna be better for him. You miss Seonghwa a lot. You truly didn't know what it meant to be missing your other half until now;

Empty, alone.

Cold.

You sigh as you toss the pillow aside and sit up in bed, checking the time on the clock. 

3am.

You couldn't sleep, and you freeze. You freeze because you have no one to call anymore. So you turn, and turn. No longer able to find sleep for the rest of the night.

When the sun finally rises, you force yourself to get up to go for a run and grab a good cup of coffee and breakfast. It was your day off, but you thought you could at least take advantage of being up early; take advantage of soaking in the morning sun.

You were tired of sulking and being in bed. Being cooped up at home when you weren't at work.

You throw on your leggings and matching sports bra, grabbing an oversized zip-up to shield you from the morning cold. Yaya is already working in the kitchen, so you quickly let her know you'll be out for a run— rushing over to your car to avoid any questioning this early in the day. You drive over to a lake near town that has a 4.5 mile trail around its perimeter. Since it's still early, the trail isn't crowded with people; perfect enough for you to get a good 3 mile run in. You hadn't ran in a minute, but 3 miles seemed to be a breeze when there was a lot of pent up frustration and anger you needed to release. Of course, you were beyond tired at the end, but it wasn't anything coffee and a good pastry couldn't fix.

At the cafe, you grab a seat right outside of the entrance to enjoy your breakfast, scrolling through social media per usual. You click into your messages for god knows why, knowing Seonghwa hadn't messaged you.

He hasn't.

Why would he?

You sigh, the sadness now returning. You quickly clean up and toss your trash into the bin inside the restaurant before grabbing your cup of iced coffee and heading home. Once you get home, you throw your clothes into the laundry and take a hot, steamy shower, letting your worries go momentarily.

And then, you nap. Exhaustion finally hitting you from the lack of sleep.

Post-nap, you take time to clean around your suite and hang out with Yaya, watching a few episodes of her current favorite show. You help Yaya with a few things around the house, taking the time to bring her to the grocery store just right before the sun sets. Even though Yaya can tell something is wrong, she doesn't bother you or question you like you'd expect— probably leaving it for Soyeon to do the heavy lifting. You do appreciate that you don't have to dwell on it while spending time with her, though. 

Soyeon, Charli and Junseo had visited the past days, and although Charli was able to make you smile and laugh, Soyeon could also easily tell something was wrong without you having to say anything at all. Your demeanor had changed, you seemed to be snapping quicker than usual. Attitude wasn't so bright and happy. Seonghwa hadn't been around, but the other boys had quickly stopped by just to hang out.

You dimmed it down to a 'little fight between you and Hwa,' but Soyeon knew better than that, and she was hoping she'd be able to get it out of you soon. This wasn't like you, and it wasn't like Seonghwa to not come around for days on end.

This wasn't just a little fight.

"Hey." She calls you when you're settled back in your humble abode, and although you don't mind hearing from your boss-slash-cousin, you could do without any work-related conversations right now.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving the restaurant soon. Yoongi and Junseo are going to close up. It's gotten quiet. Can I stop by? I have some food for you."

"Sure. Where's Chacha?"

"With Junseo's parents."

"Mm." You hum. "Okay."

"Okay, I'll be there in about 30 minutes or so. I'm just gonna wrap a few things up here."

"Sounds good." You hang up the call, a bit relieved that your cousin [not your cousin on boss-mode] is coming over. 

When she arrives, it's about 7:45pm. She quietly knocks before announcing her presence— stepping out of her shoes before joining you on your living room floor in front of the coffee table and TV. For a good part of the conversation, you indulge in some of the chicken she brought over, listening to her update you about the restaurant and some drama on his side of the family. She asks if there's anything new going on with you or the boys, and you simply shrug.

This is definitely her way of poking at you, and you're very close to cracking because who else can you open up to about this?

No one, and at this point, you need to. You need the reassurance.

"Are you sure nothing's up? To be honest, I know something's bothering you, and I know this wasn't just a 'little fight' between you and Hwa." She forms air quotes. That's the moment you do crack, tears welling in your eyes when you revisit that night. You tell Soyeon everything and confide in her, giving her more details about your dinner with San, to dancing with Seonghwa and kissing him, to Mingi and their fight. You tell her it's been about two weeks since you've spoken and you know Seonghwa is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You tell her how you've started to realize your feelings for Seonghwa after everything and how incredibly terrified you are of them.

"I don't know what to do, Soyeon. He probably hates me."

"Just go over there and talk to him, Y/N. What are you waiting for? You know he's waiting for you to take initiative, and you should this time. This is all you." You sigh, bottom lip trembling as you begin to cry. 

"I know."

"You know Seonghwa the best. It's so obvious how much he likes you and adores you after all this time. Why are you so afraid?"

"I know, I know." You sniffle. "I just am, Soyeon. I'm afraid of getting hurt, I'm afraid of Seonghwa realizing this isn't what he expected. I'm afraid of Seonghwa." You cry a bit harder and Soyeon is holding you close, rubbing your back as you lean against her shoulder. "I'm scared of this ruining us completely. What if we do get together and things don't pan out the way we expected? I'm so scared of losing him completely that I just don't know where I lie in all of this despite my feelings for him."

"You can't be afraid about every little thing, Y/N. I know it's scary, and life hasn't been entirely nice to you. But, this is your bestfriend. You can't just sit around and brush it under the rug when you know this is something you two need to discuss. Regardless of what happens, Seonghwa will never let you go. You two have been through so much together, he would never wanna do life without you by his side. Never." She continues to reassure you, giving you the push you need to get yourself together and just face it.

You loved Seonghwa, and it was time you looked beneath the surface.

Soyeon didn't stay too long after the two of you finish eating last night— turning the conversation into something more lighthearted after you cried and thanked her for being there for her. Her reassurance worked so much that you're ready to tackle the morning bright and early, throwing on some clothes to head over to Seonghwa's place. After Soyeon left, you called Wooyoung and asked what time Seonghwa's shift was for tomorrow. He snorted and told you it was 10am and asked what you were up to. You let Wooyoung know about your talk with Soyeon and that you missed him, finally throwing the stupid shit aside to just try and talk to him about that night.

To apologize, to make things right.

To tell him that you love him.

You keep it casual and comfy, throwing on some black and white wide-leg track pants, a crop tank and a baggy grey zip-up hoodie. You throw on your shoes, swiftly grab your keys and crossbody bag, jogging out to your car with a quick 'good morning' yell to Yaya from the side of the house. As you drive over to Seonghwa's apartment, you are equally filled with anxiety, nervousness and adrenaline. You're ready to put this behind you, but you're especially ready to talk to Seonghwa again. See him. Hug him. 

Keep him close, never let him stray far again.

You pull into a guest lot, shutting off your car and wondering if you should've brought over some coffee, breakfast, anything, to make this a bit less awkward.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you shake the thoughts from your head; no time for overthinking while you're running on limited time. You jog up the steps and up to Seonghwa's apartment, hesitating when you get to the front door before you finally bring your knuckles to the surface to give a couple of loud knocks. It takes a second before you hear rustling behind the door, Seonghwa clearing his throat before he swings the door open in a white tank and sweats. Your eyes immediately meet his, but he looks surprised, caught off guard even.

But, caught off guard in a sense that he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

You don't understand it until you see someone in the back try to slip by unnoticed, but she's wearing Seonghwa's shirt. Your heart immediately sinks to your gut and it makes you feel queasy. It shouldn't, but you hate to say it does.

It's probably Makayla.

It's too fucking late.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later." You ramble and rush down the steps, hurrying away from the apartment to prevent Seonghwa from seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

This was your fault anyway, who else was there to blame?

"Y/N!" Seonghwa calls out one last time, but you're already running to your car. Very obvious that you're wiping away at your face as you sink into the driver's seat and pull out of the spot without turning back. "Fuck." Seonghwa groans to himself, and Makayla kinda just watches everything unfold right in front of her eyes. He runs a hand through his long, black locks, shutting the door quietly behind him as he turns to her and gives her a sympathetic smile. 

"I'm sorry."

"That was Y/N?"

"Uh, yeah. My bestfriend." He looks at her, and she can already tell. She can already tell that it's you, and there is more to it than that. He loves you, and it's very, very obvious.

"You love her, don't you?" He lets out a breath and shrugs. He doesn't say anything for a bit, rather looks at her with those big doe-eyes before she catches him subtly nodding and diverting his attention to the floor.

"I'm so, so sorry, Makayla. I really am." What the fuck else can he say? He must look so fucked up right now; having taken her out the night before and let her spend the night after fumbling in the sheets. He was curious to see if Makayla would be the door to a new path, something that'll help him move forward. He had hope. After this morning's events, that clearly wasn't going to be the case and he wasn't going to lie about it.

"Don't be." She gives him a small, toothless smile. Because although it does suck, she's been there before and she'd hate for Seonghwa to miss out on the person he truly wants to be with. "You should really talk to her before it's too late."

♡ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

You're on Seonghwa's back as he trails behind the group, walking up the path to the view of the city behind campus. Hongjoong, San, Wooyoung and a few other heads had wanted to go on a late night walk— the goal being the view at the end for everyone to just sit and admire. At first, you didn't feel like going with a bunch of obnoxious boys. But, you had been cooped up in your room doing nothing but studying all day. It sounded better knowing Seonghwa would be around and being in the crisp, night air. 

Seonghwa continues to walk up the slightly steep hill before spotting the view just down the street, you jumping off his back as soon as it becomes clear in sight.

"Hwa! Look at it!" You squeal, running to one of the free areas near the fence to get a good picture of the view. "It's so pretty! Look!" 

"Yeah, it is." He catches his breath as he walks over next to you. Trekking that hill is not for the weak.

"Oh my god, look at all those lights. It's so beautiful. I didn't realize how flat the town is." You're mainly thinking out loud, saying it to yourself, but Seonghwa chuckles next to you and quietly nods. "I think I can see our favorite convenient store from here, and our favorite spot to get jajangmyeon."

"How would you know, they're little blobs right now."

"How would you not know, Seonghwa? Are you a fraud? Do you even like those places like you say you do?" He snorts.

"Relax, Nancy Drew. It was just a question."

"I just know." You say so matter-of-fact-ly that Seonghwa smiles to himself while you continue to look out at the view. "The stars are so pretty tonight, weather is so perfect. Ugh. We should do this more often." You continue to go on and Seonghwa just likes listening to you talk. He always has, always will.

Everything about you was his favorite.

"I— what?" You look up and see Seonghwa still staring at you before he lets out a deep chuckle.

"Nothing."

"Pichu, what is it?" He looks at you again, and it's obvious he wants to tell you something but is preventing himself from spilling it out onto the table for whatever reason. You turn towards him and cross your arms, tapping your foot to wait for his response.

"Nothing! I'm just— nothing."

"Park Seonghwa."

"I-I—" He sighs. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you ended up going on the walk with us. I wanted you here."

"Aw, you little sap." You pinch his bicep and he yelps. "Are you sure that's all?" He nods.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything." He ruffles your hair and you can't help but pout at. "You know? For being a pain in the ass bestfriend."

"I beg to differ, but you're welcome." You chuckle. "Always us, right pichu?" You playfully punch him on the bicep before returning your attention back to the view.

And he'll forever remember this as the first time he tried to confess his feelings for you.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[luveline]

radio cure | steve harrington

an unhappy you meets steve harrington and his merry band of dorks. he shows you that some things are worth sticking around for.

5k words, fem!reader she/her used, tw mentioned/implied suicidal ideation please don’t read if that’s going to have a negative impact on you (no graphic imagery. but reader is passively suicidal and dealing with the other factors of that), robin steve + eddie chaotic trio, friends to lovers, multipart, swearing, friendly teasing, sarcasm, artist!steve, 90s au

.•° ✿ °•.

You're twenty two when you decide to kill yourself.

It's a warm day. The sun shines like a flower bud unfurling, a faint hint of golden yellow masked by cloud cover. You're savouring the brief moment of blessed cool as you walk around Lover's Lake, your ipod in one hand, headphones around your neck.

The flowing pants you're wearing help mitigate the heat around your legs, an itching, slick thing. Warmth feels like oil on your skin. You tip your head back and smell the grass, the lake water, the dry mud under your feet. You're thinking it's as nice a day as you're going to get this week, and you're forlorn, because it doesn't make one drop of difference.

You look up at the blue sky, squinting against the light, and you think it to yourself resolutely. This is going to be my last year. When your savings run out you're giving up.

It doesn't feel conclusive. It doesn't feel scary. It's just a decision.

You walk over dry grass until you reach the short pier on the leftmost side of the lake and sit down. You pull your headphones over your ears and bite your lip when the music isn't loud enough. The dock is rough. You're uncomfortable immediately. You want to go home, but you pull out your little craft sketchbook made of yellow paper and a pencil you've sharpened with a pen knife, staring out across the lake for something to strike you. A duck. A goose. Anything at all.

The thing is, you don't want to draw. You aren't some master, though you try, and you aren't a natural talent… You try sometimes. Nothing seems right. Most people have a style, charm, but you could draw a picture perfect copy of the day in front of you and still feel the lack; you have no idea what it is that makes other people's art beautiful, and that's the problem.

It doesn't matter. You put the sketchbook away. You have nobody to impress but yourself, and besides — you're not the first person in the world to feel uninspired. Thousands of people must feel it everyday, and they aren't throwing any pity parties. You peel off your cardigan, ball it up, and lay down with the fabric behind your head. You can hear the soft pant of a dog across the way, the happy chattering of a Frisbee game. Under the dock, little bodies thwack the planks, tiny green frogs that occasionally hop in the grass nearby.

You press your arm against your stomach and you fall asleep not long after that, your ipod playing music a few feet away.

—

Steve Harrington doesn't know why he stops to look at you. You're just a girl enjoying the summer sun, and he doesn't mean to be a creep. But you've left your stuff laying in small hills around you and your body's lax. You're asleep.

He kneels down next to you. Enough room to swing away if you try to stab him for perving. He isn't perving, he reasons. He wants to check if you're okay.

He tilts his ear toward you and holds his breath.

You're snoring.

Good, he thinks, crawling back to the far side of the dock, at least two feet between you. You're sleeping.

He sits down, knees up, hands between his thighs, and looks out across the lake. The sun shines high as the clouds shift to reveal it in full force, a burning yolk. It kisses every bit of green foliage it can find, dappled sunlight everywhere he looks. Steve is out today to draw whatever beauty he can find, and the light across the water riding the rippled waves of ducklings and brave human swimmers seems nice enough. He peers out of the corner of his eye at you, deems you still sleeping, and takes the pocket sized sketchbook out of his denim jeans.

His pencil is a stub folded between the pages. He lays down graphite in big sweeping lines, more focused on the impressions of shape than the specifics. It's hard to see a coloured world in black and white values. Steve isn't great — he's been drawing for two years now, and that feels like both a lifetime and a flicker. Every day he learns something new about making art, and every day he looks back and feels embarrassed at what he made before. The start of his sketchbooks make him cringe. This one is a mixture of pride and tepid reluctance.

Being bad at something is a stepping stone at getting better. Not every drawing he makes is good, but hopefully it's teaching his brain to be better. He doesn't know what he believes about art but he likes to draw, and he has gotten better.

The point isn't in being good, he'd told Robin. I just need something to do. Before I go crazy doing nothing. 

He draws the lake. He loves the way it comes into being. Ten minutes can turn grey splotches into trees, and bluegrass, and the heat rising off of the water. He draws a duck when it swims really close, though he has to abandon it when it swims away, leaving a half formed lovecraftian creature to haunt the page. He draws the dock, and his shoes, and your shoes, and your hand curled weakly next to your ipod. He draws your wrist, though he stops quickly.

He looks at your sleeping face.

Steve thinks you don't look like anyone he's ever seen before. He notes your lashes, your brows, and your nose. The sun emphasises the fine hairs across your cheek, and the texture beneath them.

He wants to draw your face, but he thinks drawing your hand and your shoes might have been too much without permission. He lets you sleep for a while, and then when he realises the heat is making him dizzy, he can't leave you there to bake.

He rips a sheet of paper out of his sketchbook and shoves the small book back into his pocket. The dock groans as he stands, and he casts a shadow over your face and upper torso.

"Hey," he says.

You flinch awake.

"Don't panic," he says, which is something a pervert might say, so he amends, "don't freak out, I'm just worried you're gonna cook your brains. I didn't want you to get sick."

You sit up. You look kinda cooked already, blinking and disoriented.

"You okay?"

You don't look up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for waking me up."

"Yeah, sure. Here."

He holds out the drawing of your hand. He doesn't think it's good, doesn't want you to see it, but he already did it. Giving it to you will ease his guilty conscience.

It's unlike Steve to bail, but he bails. Your fingers are barely brushing the paper when he's wiping his palms on his thighs and stepping away.

"Bye," he says, uncertain. "Try not to fall asleep again!"

—

It's not so weird. Sure, he'd made your fingers skinnier than they really are, and he made your shoelaces look like spaghetti, but they're good drawings.

You're trying to read a book in the corner of Benny's when he finds you a second time. He hovers, and you're not cool, you aren't, you're working with what you've got. Not many people skills.

“Hi,” he says.

"They were good drawings," you say, in lieu of your own hello, thumbing at the pages of your book all full of jumpy nerves.

"Thank you, I'm… new to it. My best friend, she's– she's actually nicer than she should be about them, I can't lie. I was going to say she thinks I should be banned from picking up a pencil, because I wanted to make you laugh, but. She's nice when it matters."

You can't keep looking down, it wouldn't be polite. You dog ear your paperback and let it lie against the tabletop, greasy to touch but you doubt it'll make a difference. The book is old and had cost you 50 cents at Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's yard sale.

He's tall. Hair falls around his face and curls gently against his cheeks, a sandy brown. He's wearing a hat. He hadn't been wearing one the day he'd given you his drawings, but you can understand why he needs it. The sun is an inescapable force: sun stroke has half the town down for the count. The whole reason that you're in Benny's is because it's air-conditioned and shady.

"Do you want to come and eat with me and my friends?"

You say no automatically. "No, that's okay. I don't wanna," —you don't know what to say, so your voice hikes up awkwardly— "impose."

"You don't have to, but if you want to, you're not imposing." He twists at the waist and nods to a booth across the room, where a boy and girl sit. When they see you seeing them they look away. "Sorry, they're dorks. There's usually more of us, but Jon's in work and Nancy's in Emerson, so…" He seizes up.

You wonder why people are so afraid of being awkward. It terrifies you, to think one day you'll fuck up and be awkward and the other person will remember it and laugh, but looking at him now, you can't see why it matters. It actually makes you feel better, knowing he's worried too.

"I only brought enough for the milkshake," you say.

"I'll get you something."

"That's– no, that's okay."

He hesitates. "You'd be doing me a favour. I love them, really, but I can't stand it when they're together, they bully me."

It would probably be worse to reject his offer and sit here lonely while they laugh and talk. You'll worry they're talking about you.

"Okay," you mumble, picking up your book and your milkshake.

He grins at you and you follow him through the diner. It's not busy today, but there's still feet to fall over and backpack straps to tread on, so you watch the floor.

"My name is Steve, by the way."

You tell him your own name, which brings another quick smile to his face. He slows as he approaches the booth of his friends and beckons for you to slide into the empty side before following you in.

"Guys, this is– Eddie, what the fuck is that? We said no gross shit at the table."

"This, my friend," Eddie says, words rolling around his mouth grandly, "is a monster."

It's a little man made of coffee stirrers, sporks, and chewing gum seams. It's kind of gross, but it's cute. Grossly cute and cutely gross.

"We're about to eat."

"You're stepping on his artistic licence," says the girl, her voice distinctly pretty and a tiny bit hoarse.

"Disgusting," Steve says.

You shift on the leather chair underneath you and anxiety pulses in the bottom of your stomach. They're ignoring you, but not really. Both have lifted their eyes to look at you, and, in sync, they smile. The girl's smile is startling, lip gloss lips and white teeth. Eddie's is softer, less happy and more reassuring.

"I'm Eddie," Eddie says, though you'd figured it out. "That's Robin. Do you think my monster is gross in the gross way or gross in the sick way?"

"He's cute," you admit to thinking. "But the gum…"

"I didn't have any glue."

"Steve told us about his drawings. If he's holding you hostage right now, blink three times, okay?" Robin jokes.

Eddie and Robin lean their shoulders together and start a bit where they count your blinks. There's murmurings about shelters and how they can definitely throat punch Steve hard enough to make him mute. You're stunned at being the object of a joke and don't know how to react, feeling like you've been whacked and now there's cartoon birds flying around your head and they can all see them.

Steve grabs the menus out of the rack and slaps one down in front of everybody. "Alright, team. You know the drill. Last person to choose what they want has to buy drinks." He spares you a glance. "Except you. She's on me because hostages don't pay for themselves."

"I would make such a pretty hostage," Eddie says.

He is pretty, in fairness. Dark curls thick with baby hairs frizzed up in the summer heat frame a pale face. He has big brown eyes.

“And talented,” Robin adds, poking the gum man until he falls flat on his face. The head pops off and Eddie shrieks, not loudly but with a passionate upset about him that makes you laugh.

Steve leans over. “Please choose quickly so I don’t have to pay for Robin's lemonade addiction. No pressure.”

“I’ll just have what you have.”

“With a coke?”

“Sure.”

“Robin?” he asks.

“I want a cheeseburger with a lemonade and then, if you will, another lemonade.”

She dumps her menu in Eddie’s lap, who looks up from his decapitated figure with a look of defeat.

“Wh- hey, she cheated. She hurt my dude.”

“Rules are rules.”

Eddie sulks and accepts everybody’s money. He slinks up to the window like an annoyed cat. After he’s placed the order, he looks back to the table and flips the bird covertly.

“So, how old are you?” Robin asks.

“Twenty two.”

“How’s that?” she asks sympathetically.

“Robin.” Steve chides. “She’s twenty so she thinks she’s a baby.”

“I am a baby. This is my first year not being a teen, which means it’s my first year as an adult. I’m one.”

“We have this argument a lot,” Steve says, though not with any bravado. Simple explanation, his voice soft and warm. “When being an adult actually begins. It’s not the adult part that even matters, it’s the not having rules that fucks people up. Look at Eddie. He’s been out of school for a year and he’s been arrested three times.”

You frown, not because his getting arrested would bother you (depending on the charge), but because you’re surprised, and surprise is quick to appear as anger on your face. His shirt and rockstar rings, his nice smile, his gum man — you’d assumed he was a huge nerd. His arrests are a surprise.

“What for?” you ask, before you can remind yourself that invasive questions are rude.

“Once for indecent exposure– completely accidental. Once for trespassing, and the last time was because he chained himself to a tree outside of Tawny’s bar. They weren’t cutting the tree down,” Steve says. “He, and I quote, wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Don’t give away my RAP sheet when I’m not here,” Eddie says, placing a tray of drinks on the table carefully. Three cokes and two lemonades.

“It’s not a RAP sheet if you don’t actually get in trouble. They let him off ‘cause they know his uncle. And also ‘cause it’s Hawkins.” Robin slides her slice of lemon between her teeth, shepherding her two lemonades as far away from everybody as she can, looking extremely hedgy. “I’s a bitch sheet.”

Eddie feigns for her second lemon slice and snickers when Robin defends it, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

“I paid for it!” he says through laughs.

Your hands start to shake. You hide them under the lip of the table but it’s no use. Soon your legs are shaking, your arms, all of you. They’re minute tremors, both invisible and impossible to ignore. You glue a smile to your face and try to calm down. You’re overwhelmed and you don’t know why — this isn’t a new feeling. You are not the first person to feel this feeling.

Then why does it feel like it?

Sometimes, everything gets so scary so quickly, and you sit there wondering why it isn’t scary for everybody else, and you wonder why they can’t see it on your face how scared you are, and they must see it? They must know you’re fucked.

You’re shot with thoughts. These people, you could be friends. All you have to do is make a good impression. But how should you go about that? How do you talk? What do you say?

“I draw too,” you say, hands clamped between your knees.

Steve’s eyebrows do this little dance. It’s adorable, and it makes you want to be his friend most of all.

“You do?”

“I do. I’m not good, I mean. I used to be better. I’m out of practice.”

“I draw,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Jonathan, too. God, you should see his shit. And he’s an even better photographer. But I draw shitty zine comics. And Robin does the typesetting for me.”

“Oh, wow,” you say genuinely.

“Nancy writes,” Robin says. “So we’re, like, a jerk circle of artists. She’s good, too.”

“She’s good,” Eddie imitates fondly. “I bet she is. Robin’s gonna be a great writer as well, once she gets all these private Nancy lessons.”

Steve puts a hand up and Eddie promptly shuts up. He takes a big, sheepish slurp of coke and you feel like you’ve said something wrong though you barely said anything at all, sipping at your own coke.

“What are you reading?” Robin asks.

You slide the book toward her so she can see for herself. “The Sea, The Sea,” you tell her. “It’s about, uh,” —you’ve only managed to read the first thirty pages, and that’s after reading the first ten five times straight— “this guy named Charles, he’s unique. He’s uh, annoying.”

“You know, Nancy used to have a book that looked just like that,” Steve says.

You laugh weakly. “It must be popular. I got it at a yard sale.”

“Can I open it?” Robin asks.

“Of course. It’s already pretty beat up, I don’t think there’s anything you could do—“

Robin opens the book with one hand, thumb and pinky fingertip pressed to either side, and tries to take a sip of her drink without looking, tipping her glass of lemonade straight into the pages of The Sea, The Sea. What doesn’t get soaked up by your book rushes down the length of the table and into her lap.

Steve reaches across the table to grab up the glass, but the damage is already done. Your lips part. Eddie gawps, throwing a hand over his slack-jawed face.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says, looking at you with wide eyes. “I have the worst case of butterfingers ever, I’m sorry.”

It’s as if she can’t believe she did it. You fluster when you realise they’re all waiting for your reaction.

“It’s okay!” you say, as loud as you’ve ever spoken in public.

“You can be mad,” Steve assures you.

“No, it was an accident. I’m not mad, it cost fifty cents, and it was totally garbage anyway. I’m really not mad.”

Eddie stuffs napkins under the table and Robin shivers uncontrollably, dishing ice cubes from her lap and the seat. Steve, laughing now, says, “God dammit, Robs,” sounding like she might be the most golden person on the planet.

—

Steve works his hat over your hair the best that he can. “There. Now you won’t die from heat stroke.”

You bring both hands to the hat to encourage it down onto your head. “Steve,” you say, sounding unsure on how to continue.

“It’s on loan.”

You nod and look out over the lake, where Eddie stands at the edge of the dock. "It's getting way too fucking cold for this," he complains, in swim shorts and a shirt, gazing in distrust at the lake’s shimmering surface.

Lake is kind. It is technically a lake, but also technically a really, very pathetic lake that feeds from a pathetic tributary. If you stationed Steve on one side and you the other, he would strain to hear you talking. Likely infected with brain eating amoeba or tadpoles or leeches. Slimy things. It’s less disgusting than Lover’s Lake, a condom cesspit, so that’s a plus.

You aren’t looking any more eager about jumping in than you had been, thighs naked and kissed by the hem of an oversized, black t-shirt. It’s wrinkled. Steve kind of loves it.

"Just jump in, you big babies," Robin says.

She'd already jumped in, screamed at the cold, and now languishes in the chest height water in front of the small fishing dock with a smug smile on her face. "Not you," she says to you. Steve rolls his eyes.

You shake your head, hair slipping out of the hat. You sigh as you pull it off and readjust the sizing band.

"I guess I am being a baby,” you say to him quietly. “The sun’s been out all day, how cold can it be?” You’re not feeling confident. It seeps into your voice, to which Steve lends a placating smile.

"Really fucking cold."

"Eddie, shut up. Y/N, it's fine. You'll like it."

“I really don’t think she’ll like it.”

Steve doesn’t either, but he wants you to feel included, and less tense. Distract you from whatever it is that’s giving you such a big case of the frownies, and prove he and his friends aren’t just book-ruining hooligans.

Eddie finally jumps in over Robin’s head, disappearing into the not quite blue water with a cut-off curse. He appears again a few seconds later, black hair slicked to his face, neck and shoulders, wiping the water from his eyes as he splutters and giggles boyishly.

“Shit, Stevie,” he says. “Not that cold after all.”

“You don’t have to jump in, you can just ease off the dock, if that’s better,” Steve says.

“Frogspawn,” you murmur.

Steve does a bunch of flexing, throws in a jumping jack for good measure. “Alright,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

You shake your head gently.

Steve doesn’t wanna embarrass you further, or insist when you really don’t want to, so he nods and smiles and takes a running jump into the lake. Robin and Eddie both swear and dart away as his body collides with the surface of the water, and he sinks like a well-practised stone to near enough the lake bed, feet gracing slippery pond weed and things he’d rather not think about. The air shatters out of his lungs and the water, despite the summer sun, is cold. It feels amazing — he hadn’t realised how warm he was until the temperature abruptly shifted.

He rushes back up to the surface and shakes his hair out like a dog, water running down his face and shoulders in fast thick rivulets. He peels his eyes open and turns to find you still hesitating on the dock. Robin splashes at Steve in retaliation for his hair splatters and Eddie laughs evilly as he joins in.

“Come on!” he begs you. “I told you, they bully me! I need back up!”

You toss his hat on the dock. The jump you take into the lake is timid but enough to miss the frogspawn and not break your legs, a cold splash of water and you’re there. Luckily, your presence has Robin and Eddie both stopping in their cruel tracks, and you don’t have to save Steve after all.

Your happy laughter is stunning.

"It's so cold!" you squeal, water in your eyelashes.

Eddie takes one of your hands and together the four of your tread into deeper water.

"Now that all who can be present are present," he says, falling into his dungeon master drawl, "it's time we commence the The Tournament. Swimmers, take your stations."

Everyone falls into line. You don't know what you're falling into line for, raising your timid voice to ask, "What's the game?"

"The game is me and you dunk the ever-loving out of dumb and dumber," he says.

"Hey, what?" Robin asks. "How come you get her? She's a total wild card, she might win the game all by herself."

"Or she might really suck. We don't know, and so in the interest of fairness, I propose she swims with me." Eddie's wet sleeve sticks to your skin as he nudges you. "But you don't suck, do you?"

"Um…"

"Attagirl. On your marks, get set, go!"

You spend an hour like that. Steve and Co, they're stupid, but they aren't stupid stupid. The Tournament is a series of chasing and dunking (stupid but fun) wherein you get to throw yourself on the shoulders of the person you're chasing and submerge them (stupid again). You can't hold them down, though, they aren't trying to drown one another. Much.

The sun regretfully starts to set. If it's anything like the last few days, that means it's likely near 10PM, and they're all working tomorrow.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Steve asks in concern, after he's heaved himself up onto one of the huge stones on the opposite side of the lake.

Cattails obscure you from view on your own stone. Across the lake, your possessions lay thankfully unscathed on the dock. Robin sits as close as she can to Steve on his rock, kicking water at Eddie every time he tries to approach.

"You fucking rat," he fumes, mouth full of lake water.

"I'm not really working right now,” you say.

"Do you need a job?" Eddie asks. "They're hiring— Harrington, restrain your creature! They're hiring at the Palace Arcade, aren't they?"

Steve nods voraciously. "Yeah! Hey, we can get you an interview no problem, they probably won't even ask you that many questions. I mean, Keith worked there."

"Don't be mean about Keith," Robin says, though she doesn't really like him. He thinks it's akin to defending your deadbeat older brother.

"I don't know, I think even a couple of questions might be too many," you worry.

"How come?"

You pull the fluff off of a cat tail, and it explodes in your hands. Steve yanks one down to do the same, watching the fibres float across the lake's disturbed surface with a cool breeze. Robin shivers beside him, sensitive to the cold in her wet clothes, the adrenaline of swimming and almost but not really dying wearing off.

"I'm bad at stuff like that."

"I don't think anyone's good at interviews at our age," Eddie says, nose wrinkled as cat tail floats toward him. "We're, like, babies."

"I always feel like I'm really old," you confess. You look down at your naked knees. "Like I wasted all the good years already."

"What, school?"

"And the four years since," you say.

Steve gets it, in a way. His high school years sucked, and he'd maybe thought he'd get out of Hawkins on a track or swim scholarship, basketball — anything. But he's here still, and at first that hadn't been what he wanted. Sure, he'd expected it, but in different ways.

Steve pushes back the cattails to see you clearly. "I didn't even get any real good years until just now," he says, as kindly as he can.

"I failed senior year twice," Eddie speaks up, "I kinda thought I was wasting my life too, but if I didn't, I wouldn't even know Robin, and she's, like, my best friend."

He throws his hands over his face before Steve can kick a huge wave of lake water into his eyes. "Get your own," Steve fumes. He's not really mad.

"Yeah, these are the good years," Robin says, "probably. I never had guys fighting over me in high school." She laughs and tucks her wet hair behind her ears, her freckled cheeks pale in the oranging light of the sunset.

You hold your hands out for Eddie and he finally climbs onto one of the rocks. From this side of the lake, you can watch the sun set behind the silhouettes of Hawkins town a half mile away. It dips slowly down, meandering almost, a pearl sinking through layers of raspberry pink and orange and, as Steve holds his breath, that sudden flash of electric green.

"I'm blind," Eddie mumbles, falling back into the rocks and grass.

"Shit, that was cool." Robin stands up and stretches. "I'm so cold I'm gonna die right here. Steve, do you still have a blanket in your car?"

Steve looks over at you again. You look shell-shocked, not quite awed. He doesn't know what emotion you're feeling, only that you're feeling it, eyes wide and set across the lake at the darkened sky, lights from the buildings like stars shimmering in your pupils.

He stands up and offers his hand to you. When you take it, he pulls you up without hesitation, not a flicker of doubt or an ounce of struggle.

"I'll get you that interview," he says, questioning, soft. If you want it. 

Your fingers linger in his palm.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

"Come on!" Robin says, taking your other hand and tugging without apology, barefoot over the asphalt path surrounding the lake. "Before the gnats come out."

"We might see fireflies if we stick around," Eddie says.

They bicker. Steve lets go of your hand and you and Robin walk just ahead, your head bobbing between his two arguing friends like you're watching a quickfire tennis match.

You turn to the side and hide a smile. Steve sees it, and he figures it's a start.

"Munson," he hollers, "how about you stay and watch the fireflies and you tell us all about it? Me and the girls aren't gonna freeze out here so you can get back in touch with nature."

It's a bad joke, but it works. "Fuck you, Harrington. The ladies wanna see the lightning bugs, don't you?"

"I can't remember the last time I saw them," you say.

"Then we have to stay," Eddie says smugly.

You all crowd the back of Steve's car, the heaters on but not doing a lot, the blanket stretched over Robin's shoulders. She tucks it behind your back, and you all look out to the night and scout for bugs.

"There," you whisper, pointing.

Green dots of light rise from the dry grass like tiny lanterns, a handful at a time.

"Jonathan's gonna be sad he missed this," Robin murmurs.

You try to count them all. Four voices whispering bets into the night air, though the real number isn't possible to calculate. "Winner gets a new paperback on Robin," Eddie jokes, swiftly quietened by a barrage of elbows to his side.

They let you win.

[silvervioletvalentine]

•The trouble with love•

Pairing : Sidney Crosby x Cherrie!

Word count : 11k

Summary : in which she’s trouble and he really should have known better than to fall in love with his best friends little sister.

Warnings: a Lil angst in the beginning. Nothing too bad. Mentions of using drugs , cherries a party girl who likes to self destruct instead of facing her own feelings. Age gap. If that’s not your thing then simply don’t read! She’s 22/23 though. So legal and nothing wrong about it at all. (My daddy issues coming through big time in this me thinks lmfao). Also, when I write these. I only see them as face claims. I’m not writing their personalities because I don’t know them in real life nor do I want to. So don’t be a numbskull. It’s called fanfic for a reason. I write this shit in my own time for free, for my own entertainment to escape my shitty little life for a while. Writing is supposed to be fun, just like reading it is. Not perfect . So be kind or fuck off! Enjoy xoxo

Sidney knew that she was home as soon as he opened the door to her brothers place and smelt the same vanilla and coconut scented perfume that she had been wearing for as long as he had known her.

A small smile twitching at his lips as he took in the sight of her perfectly pristine , dark red , satin heels at the door. Some designer that he recognised vaguely , alongside her Chanel bag hung up on the rack and her usual leather jacket.

He hung his own jacket up beside hers , then dug his hand into his jeans pockets to pull out a small pack of travel sized haribo bears that he knew she loved , he quickly made work of sliding the small packet into her Chanel bag.

Stealing a quick nosy look inside while he was at it, his eyebrow arching at the sight of her fancy perfume , a row of condoms , cigarettes that definitely weren't just nicotine , some lipstick and then...a amethyst crystal at the bottom of the bag.

He slowly shook his head in amusement to himself as he carefully closed it, running a hand through his hair and smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt before taking a deep breath, preparing himself to deal with her usual attitude and snarky remarks .

It had been almost three months since he had last seen Cherrie and he had honeslty missed her sarcasm and her bitchiness. Somebody to bicker with that didn't give a single shit as to who he was. She laid into him hard , often leaving his ego and pride in pieces for her own entertainment. No matter how many times her brother told her to leave him alone and play nice , she flat out refused.

Because as long as Sidney had known Jacob , her brother , his little sister had never really been very fond of him at all. He don't really know what he had done at first , wondering if perhaps his disgust towards her favourite boy bands when she was eighteen had pissed her off so badly that she felt the need to form a lifelong vendetta against him.

He genuinely didn't know . He had asked her brother about it once , wondering if he knew why his sister hated him so much and his answer has been simple ,

a Casual shrug with a apathetic  "she's like that. A bitch sometimes but she's a good person ...just not a great one." And that was that.

And despite being older than her and knowing better. Sidney couldn't help but snap back at her all the time she gave him her little attitude , couldn't help but bite and give into her goading , bickering with her until she finally got bored and wandered off somewhere. Leaving him with a scowl and fidgeting on his seat , wondering how she could get underneath his skin so easily . Wondering why he couldn't seem to control his mouth or his emotional urges whenever she was around .

He didn't get it, don't want to really. Because Cherrie was annoying , mouthy and had a huge stick shoved up her ass as far as he was concerned . She lived to torment other people , got entertainment when people tripped over , laughed when somebody cried and was all around a little asshole to be around.

So really, he should want absolutely nothing to do with her. And the only reason that he should tolerate her was because he was such good friends with her brother. He should just give a polite hello and leave her alone because she was nothing to him, just his friends annoying little sister . That was all.

At least, that was what it should have been. But this was Cherrie. Stubborn , mouth and insanely beautiful Cherrie that seemed to be heading down a path towards destruction for a while now.

And she got him, because of course she did. She was an little asshole like that.

So despite knowing how wrong it was and how much he shouldn't get involved and how he should just leave trouble alone. He still found himself thinking of her whenever she wasn't around.

He found himself double checking her socials to see what she was up to or who the new boyfriend of the month was (which then he got into a terrible loop of checking out these boyfriends and being horrified by her type: which was assholes. Class A ones that were older and quite frankly not worth a second glance). And then because he couldn't help himself , and knowing how much she didn't want her older brother to know what she was doing , having blocked him on everything and hardly ever staying in contact while she was out of town.

Sidney would snitch on her . Plain and simple. He would snapshot the photo of her with some rich, thirty year old asshole that she definitely shouldn't   have been hanging around (especially when criminally convicted wives : yes multiple: we're still involved.) and simply because he couldn't stand the rush of anger and the ugly feelings that would stir within him whenever he saw her with some asshole that want worth her time , but he knew that he couldn't say anything. Couldn't tell her who not to date , he definitely couldn't tell her why he didn't want her to be anywhere near them.

But her brother could. So Sidney told him and then sat back and watched as she got scolded like a little child , all the while she glared at him hatefully knowing fully well that he was the reason her brother knew all of her business .

Then she would turn to him and lay into him too, running off her dirty mouth and cursing him out until her brother had to literally eject her from the room.

And then Sidney would feel a little bit whole again because when she was screaming at him, when she was bickering with him and giving him her attitude, it meant that she was home. She wasn't running around god knows where with god knows who while getting into trouble .

It meant that she was there, with him, giving him her attention again. Even if it was negative and mean, Sidney just liked her being there. Liked seeing her safe and in the flesh, liked seeing the flush to her cheeks each time she got mad at him. Liked seeing her squirm and lie when she was asked what she had been up to lately. Liked seeing the way she swore to hate him but still followed him around, just to annoy him.

And Sidney knew that it was wrong, he really did. He should leave her alone and he definitely shouldn't have been getting involved.

She was trouble . Big trouble. She was younger , mouthy and a mean, little bitch when she wanted to be. And she was also his best friends little sister. That should have been enough to turn him in the opposite direction running.

But either he was insanely stupid or he was ...insanely stupid. Because he kept coming back and hoping that she would be there too. He kept provoking her , kept getting involved and stirring the pot . And he knew exactly why he was doing it, had known for a while now but he refused to acknowledge his feelings, refused to admit what was really going on. Rationalising it as just wanting to mess with his best friends little sister, annoy her a little. Because he could and that was okay.

She wasn't eighteen anymore, she was twenty two and she was giving him just as much hell as she did back then. If not more. Because somehow she had gotten even more arrogant over the years , something he hadn't thought was possible. He was surprised that her head even fit through the door, she was the little princess who always got what she wanted now. Even if she got it in the most unconventional of ways.

Sidney sighed, ran his fingers through his hair again before finally entering the front room. Spotting said princess already on the couch in matching shorts and top, blanket around her legs as she watched Harry Potter on the big tv . Her brother was cooking dinner in the kitchen , giving Sid a grin and nod as soon as he saw him.

"Hey Sid! You hungry? I'm making pasta." He said ever the friendly guy.

Sidney chuckled as he kicked off his shoes, nodding his head . "Yeah. Sounds good." He said.

Cherrie scoffed frown the couch, not even glancing up from her phone as she muttered moodily  "sounds boring. He should look up salt and pepper seeing as his spice rack is just that..a rack. Empty and bland . Prepare to choke Crosby."

Her brother didn't even blink , simply slamming the kitchen door shut so he couldn't even see or hear them anymore. Not wanting to deal with her today.

Sidney chuckled as he took a seat beside her "in a lovely mood as usual I see." He commented amusedly , taking in her perfectly curled hair and shiny skin. Even when she was cozying up on the couch, she looked like she just come out of some press shoots. A pampered princess indeed.

Cherrie glanced up from her phone so he could see her roll her eyes at him, pulling a unimpressed face in return.

"What's the point of having your own home if you're never there?" She snarked.

He rose a brow at her then, watching her go back to texting. His curiosity peaked as he wondered just who she was talking to.

"You wouldn't know what thats like though would you? How's living at mommy and daddy's going for you?" He smirked back at her, tongue in cheek to stop himself from laughing when she immediately took the bait.

Scoffing as she threw her phone aside to glare at him, kicking his thigh to get him away from her. She huffed "fuck you. Eat dick asshole." She spat at him.

He snorted "now that you know all about. What happened to the last boy toy? Kill him with your hair rollers?" He teased her , pulling at the gold ankle bracelet on her leg.

The same one that he had gotten her for Christmas . It had stars and penguins on it , a small C charm too. For Cherrie. He had said. Lying to himself because he knew exactly what the C stood for. His chest filled with warmth every time he saw her wearing it.

She was picky with her jewellery , refusing to wear anything that wasn't real gold or diamonds . So to see her wearing the anklet he got filled him with some unfamiliar emotion, because she had deliberately put it on. Did she even take it off? Did she wear it whe he wasn't around? Or did she just wear it when she knew he was coming? His mind ran with a million thoughts, all of which he knew he shouldn't be having.

Cherries eye twitched as she sat up, swiftly kicking his hand off her ankle. She knelt up on her knees and leaned forward on the couch , hands outstretched her in front of her.

"No but I'm going to kill you Crosby!" She threatened him , jumping at him. As though she was going to strange him.

As soon as her small hands wrapped around his neck, Sidney was laughing . Head thrown back as she squeezed his throat with hardly any pressure at all, glaring down at him as he giggled.

Then she let out a sharp gasp as he wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her over quickly so that her back was to his chest , her body sliding down as she wiggled and tried to push him off. But he was too quick for her .

"Ooo so scary princess!" He mocked her as he got her into a loose headlock, ruffling her perfect hair with his fist. Laughing as a she screeched and cursed him out , slapping at him with a scowl on her pretty face . Looking murderous but still so beautiful  .

"Fuck you!" She yelled as she tried To get him off, slapping at his thigh, hard. He barely even flinched.

He Just snickered as he hugged his arms around the front of her shoulders, jokingly hugging her as he swayed them from side to side on the couch.

"No thanks. I know where you've been." He snarked. Gasping a laugh when she laid a hard punch to his side, forcing him to let go or be winded.

She rolled out of his lap with a glare , huffing and puffing as she tried to fix her messed up hair .

"Jealous that I'm getting laid? Not a good look on you babe." She tossed back at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, stood in front of him now. Looking down her nose at him.

He just leaned back into the couch lazily, smirking up at her as he got comfortable . Looking up at her in amusement , enjoying how quick to bite she was. She was the only person he could bicker with like this and know that he would 100% be getting that shit back at him. She was nasty.

"I'm babe now am I? Should I call you sweaty? Honey pie?" He teased her. Chest glowing with pride as he watched her face flush as she realised her little slip up .

Immediately rolling her eyes as she looked away from him stubbornly even though his eyes never left her.

"Call me that and they'll have to roll you out on the ice asshole." She warned him dangerously . Stomping around the couch to get away from him.

He tilted his head to watch her leave "it's been a pleasure as always princess!" He called out to her in amusement. Finally feeling relaxed how that she was back where he could see her.

He heard her groan as she stomped down the hallway to her room "eat shit Sidney!" She yelled back at him before he heard her door slam shut.

He grinned just as her brother came out of the kitchen, shaking his head at him with a scornful look on his face as he handed him a bowl of pasta.

"I don't know why you bother syd. She's been extra bitchy since she broke things off with tony." He told him with a sigh as he sat down.

Sidney stopped grinning then, looking at her brother with a slight frown on his face as he nudged his pasta with his fork.

"That was his name?" He muttered unimpressed "the guy looked like a sleaze? He has two gold teeth Jacob.." he pointed out with a look of disgust "two! And two ex wives. And two criminal records . What was she even thinking?" He snapped . Shaking his head.

Jacob rose a brow at his quick mood change , just taking it as him being protective . Like he would be. Completely oblivious to his friends feelings for his little sister . But maybe that was for the best, Sidney would like to keep his kneecaps thank you.

"Are you forgetting what a sleaze my sister is as well Sid? She doesn't care. She'll get with anybody that shows her even the slightest bit of attention." He muttered barely even paying him attention. Gaze on the tv.

Sidney frowned at him "don't say that. She's still your sister man." He scolded him lightly . Stomach turning because he wasn't untrue .

Jacob just chuckled and rolled his eyes "I know she is but it's still true. She's a party animal. I keep trying to tell her to stop and slow down but she won't have it." He said.

He took a bite of his food and sighed "this is your dads fault." He mumbled grumpily after taking another bite , frowning even deeper. "He was a whore who didn't give her any attention. And now she's got daddy issues."

Jacob looked at him defensively, shocked. "dude that's my dad! It's not all his fault. He doesn't make her go out and make bad life choices!" He defended. Daddy's boy.

Sidney rose a brow at him , scoffing a little. Feeling his blood pressure rise just at the thought of her father, he had seen the way the man talked down to her as though she was some silly child that was too stupid to understand anything. Demeaning her feelings and refusing to give her any attention , because in his eyes she was a mistake. She wasn't a boy and she wasn't doing anything good with  her life.

Jacob was a successful businessmen with multiple yacht company's around the world. Cherrie dropped out of collage and partied every night and didn't turn up last Christmas. It was safe to say that there relationship was a little more than strained .

"He ignores her unless money is involved. The only time I've ever heard him even acknowledge her was when she was dating that businessmen that he liked." He reminded him firmly , because he hated the man.

"And what did he do when they broke up?" He looked at her brother pointedly , Jacob just sighing loudly in defeat .

"He called her a waste of space and told her that she needed to clean her act up or that she would be servicing men for a living. I mean-" his grip tightened around his fork in anger "what kind of father says that to his sweet daughter who's just trying to navigate the world and doing her best?" He spat before he could even stop himself. Forgetting for a moment just who he was taking to.

Jacob looked at him with wide eyes, blinking In shock. Not realising that his friend felt so strongly about this.

In fact , he had no idea that he even cared at all . "Sweet?" Was all he could repeat , surprised . "My little sister? The one who just tried to strangle you and told you to eat shit? That's the sweet little sister that you're talking about?" He laughed.

Sidney just rolled his eyes and shoved another forkful of food into his mouth so he didn't have to speak. His cheeks flushing from his little slip up that thankfully Jacob didn't think much of , easily getting distracted by the tv again. Leaving Sidney to wallow with his own thoughts, eyes straying to her bedroom door more than enough times.

It was on Friday that Sidney found out that Cherrie had been kicked out of her home . But it didn't stop the air from leaving his lungs as soon as he was told about it, looking at her brother with wides eyes as he entered Sid’s apartment , looking stressed.

"What do you mean they kicked her out?" He voiced incredulously . Mind running with worry as he pictured her slumming it with one of her asshole boyfriends somewhere .

What if she left town and never came back? Sidney felt the panic slowly creep beneath his skin as he wondered what the hell her plan was. Worse, he knew Cherrie , her plan would be terrible , dangerous and maybe illegal.

He groaned.

Jacob sighed , looking annoyed. "They found drugs in her room. So she's out." He simply summed up for him.

Sidney paused by the couch, hands on his hips to stop himself from pacing. He rose a brow at her brother curiously "like..how hard are we talking?" He asked, tilting his head .

Jacob winced "enough to make a horse do the moonwalk." He told him with pursed lips. Not happy at all.

Sidney’s eyes widened "no shit." He muttered with a frown, not happy either. "I thought she only smoked weed?" He was confused.

She had a bad trip a year ago on acid while partying and had refused to do hard drugs after that , she had sworn it to him when he had picked her up from the stupid party and hauled her high ass Back home while lecturing her the whole way. He had stopped for McDonalds for her twice on the way back while she sang a song about ponies to him.

It was a strange night.

Her brother laughed humourlessly "apparently she was dating a drug dealer and was looking after his stash. She's lucky that they didn't call the police ."

Sidney scoffed dryly "yeah . You're dad would just love to see her Locked up." He couldn't help but mutter. Because maybe if he hasn't neglected her, she wouldn't be running around with a drug dealer boyfriends all the time.

"Sidney.." her brother gave him a look.

He ignored it. Running a hand through his hair as he wondered out loud "where is she going to stay?she can't be out there with all her fancy stuff. What if she gets robbed or hurt-?"

Jacob cut him off "I think she's planning on staying at her boyfriends ." Seeing the disbelieving look on Sidney’s face, he quickly added. "A new one. Not the drug dealer." Like that would relax him.

Sidney just tensed up even further, eyes widening. "A new one? Already?" He couldn't believe it. She worked quick.

"And what is this one? A porn director? A 'musician'? Please tell me. Put my mind at ease."He sarcastically said.

Her brother hesitated , then answered him quietly "I think he's a pawnbroker-"

Sidney laughed loudly "oh that's great. Yeah- well she can kiss goodbye to all her designer things then. Don't be so stupid. She's not staying with him." He told him like he had any say in the matter.

Jacob gaped at him, shocked by how hard he was taking this . "What do you mean? Where else could she go? She's refusing to stay with me." He told him .

Sidney thought about it for a long moment then his face lit up. "Oh! She can stay in my apartment next door. That would be perfect right?" He gasped . Grinning at the thought of having her right next door to him, not having to worry about where she laid her head or if she was safe or not.

There was no safer place. Sidney had bought out the entire top floor of the apartment building for his own privacy and the only time that the apartment next door got used was when friends came to stay. So rarely. It was perfect but...

"Just maybe don't tell her that I own it." He told her brother sheepishly "otherwise she'll just tell me to go fuck myself again."

Jacob laughed and relaxed, easy agreeing . Just happy that his sister would have somewhere safe to live now.

True to his word Jacob didn't tell his sister about just who's apartment she would be staying in, leaving her to nearly lose her shit when she glanced up from her front door, where she was dragging In her large box of shoes , only to see Sidney coming out of the door next to hers.

She gasped "what the fuck? Are you stalking me?!" She immediately accused him. Standing straight again. Considering throwing one of her shoes at him for scaring her like that.

Her eyes narrowing when Sidney just chuckled, arms crossing over his chest as he looked her over , taking her in in her athletic shorts set. He smiled.

"I live here." He told her simply . Voice Curt and firm as he asked her next "and how is my favourite criminal?" Smirking at her slyly.

Her face dropped as she cursed "fucking snitch!" She cursed out her brother. Flushing red.

"he's lying!" She lied.

Sidney tilted his head at her in amusement "really? So you weren't hiding drugs for your drug dealer boyfriend then ?" He called out her bullshit.

She hesitated , then mumbled "ex boyfriend." Not denying it. "And it wasn't that big of a deal. I wasn't doing them just...holding onto them for him." She felt the need to let him know.

Sidney wasn't impressed. He took a step closer to her making her look up at him, lips parting a little as he got into her personal space.

"You could have gone to jail. It's a crime Cherrie . You know better than to do shit like that. Especially for some guy that doesn't even respect you." He muttered down to her unhappily.

Her heart was racing as she flattened her expression. Pursing her lips at him . Trying to act unaffected by him.

"He loved me." She weakly muttered.

Sidney chuckled a little meanly "he loved how easy you are." He snapped at her before he could stop himself .

And Cherrie scowled up at him, giving him a little angry shove as she spat "what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's Been only twenty four hours and you're already with someone new. Where do you even find these assholes?" He wanted to know. Was it asshole.com or something?

She scoffed and took a step away from him , reminding herself how to breathe normally. He shouldn't be affecting her like this.

And maybe she was easy because she was trying not to squirm in her damp panties as he sternly looked down his nose at her, his broad shoulders blocking her view as she glared up at him.

His eyes Stern and mouth set as he glared straight back at her. Not budging. and she hated how hot he looked then , hated how turned on she got whenever he got like this with her . Hated how much she liked it when he got bossy and when he got strict,  his mean comments and firm hand made her quiver in all the best ways .

She liked it when he tried to put her into her place , pointing out her fuck ups and calling her out on her bullshit. Nobody else did it like him.

She was a mess. "At least I can find someone. How's your love life Mr hockey? Find a way to fuck a puck yet?" She snarked at him. Defensive because he was right.

His eyes narrowed down at her dangerously , and he seemed even bigger then. She pressed her thighs together. Wincing.

"I'd rather be alone than tossed around and catching shit." He insulted.

She gasped sharply "I don't have anything! I get regularly rested." She snapped at him. Shoving him away from her but he barely even moved.

Instead he stood his ground and rolled his eyes at her , jaw clenching. "That's not the point. You need to be more careful Cherrie. These guys aren't nice. I don't wand anything to happen to you." He told her firmly .

She just scoffed , swallowing hard . "You would know all about the not so nice guys wouldn't you? Asshole." She huffed at him. Overwhelmed with what she felt then.

Sidney sighed and shook his head, finally backing up a step to let them both breathe again .

"I'm only trying to help." He muttered.

She turned away from him with a haughty sniff, leaning down to pick up her box of shoes. "Yeah well.. I don't need your help. I'm perfectly fine on my own Crosby!" She snapped at him kicking open her door.

He watched her stomp inside to put the box down before returning. Then they both stared at the heavy dresser that she had yet to bring inside .

Sidney hid his smirk behind his fist, clearing his throat instead.

"Want me to help bring it in?" He offered smugly .

She glared at him and shook her head "no." Then she tried to pick it up and failed miserably.

Sidney looked at her, Cherrie looked at everything but him. Then she sighed and mumbled quietly "please."

"Good girl." He mumbled smugly , as he walked over to help her bring it in.

Chuckling a little as he did so. Smirking at the way her cheeks flush red at his praise. "That wasn't so hard to say was it?" He mocked.

She gave him the middle finger. And as soon as she turned her back Sydney finally grinned to himself , relaxing now that she was there. Safe and okay. With him.

It didn't take long for them to settle into a routine . With Sidney staying out of her way and Cherrie going out of hers to make sure that he heard every little thing that she did in her apartment .

He had never realised just how popular she was until he was being kept up every night because of it , with their loud laughters and music all night. The creaking of her bed and the loud moans, the shouts and the drunken cries . The terrible singing and the rambles , the giggling girls and boorish guys who shouted like they were dying.

It had finally gotten to his nerves by week three , she barely spoke to him. Usually just giving him a Middle finger in passing . But he heard her alright .

And as he was staring down at the ridiculous pile of parcels that he had gathered while she was out, he finally had enough. Staying away wasn't working anyways . So he marched over there and let himself into her apartment without even knocking, he owned it . So he decided that it was perfectly fine for him to do so.

"Don't you know how to fucking knock jackass?!" She squealed at Him in shock as she jumped up off her couch. Staring at him with wide eyes.

Sidney just glanced around the apartment, teeth grinding as he took in the sight off all the mess of beer bottles and clothes strung everywhere, half of which he was certain weren't even hers. He glanced down at his foot and saw an empty condom rapper, and that was the last straw.

He snapped "you're a little witch! You've kept me up for weeks with your shit now! What the hell are you doing ? Don't you have any respect?!" He seethed. Pushing away the jealously and nasty feelings in his chest as he threw her parcels down onto the table angrily . Trying to calm down.

Cherrie paused , startled by his anger then she slowly walked over to him.

Scowling back "I haven't done anything wrong." She denied. Defensive.

Sidney let out a humourless laugh "I can hear everything Cherrie." Was all he has to stress for her to understand .

She went red and swallowed hard . Inhaling a little

Too sharply in shock as she let out a startled "oh." Realising just what he might have heard.

"Yeah. Oh." He scoffed shaking his head unkindly at her .

"No more of that shit do ya hear me?" He instructed her firmly . Not joking around this time. And she got it.

And for once in her life she listened. Nodding her head a little, not looking at him as she mumbled a embarrassed"okay." Shocking him into calming right down.

He frowned down at her, surprised by her lack of argument. "Okay? You're agreeing with me?" He couldn't believe it. That much was evident.

Cherrie rolled her eyes at him , annoyed. "Yes. Anything else daddy?" She tested him .

They both tensed for two different reasons. She leaned against the back of the couch to look at him, even more annoyed when she saw how his tight shirt was hugging his muscular biceps perfectly. She hated it.

Sidney inhaled deeply, crossed his arms even tighter against his chest as he tried to keep calm. Something incredibly difficult to do when it came down to miss trouble.

"What even is all this crap anyways?" He changed the subject before she could get him roped into her said trouble.

Looking down at all of the parcels he had been collecting for her, he rose a brow. "How much more do you need? Are they..even more shoes?" He sounded incredulous because he was.

He knew that she had turned the spare bedroom into a closet, and he knew that because he had spent an entire afternoon filling the walls with all of her ridiculously overpriced heels. She refused to let him leave until they were all perfectly lined in order of colour. Sidney had never seen so many heels in his life , he had been overwhelmed and needed a beer to get through it all. She was ridiculous.

Yet his heart still beat fondly for her as he watched her pull out a brand new pair of heart shaped heels, looking almost identical to a pair that he had seen her strut around in bedore.

Her grin was childish as she held up her leg in the air between them for him to see her new shoes, turning her ankle this way and that way proudly for him .

"Beautiful huh? I got them on sale!" She informed him excitedly . Hardly paying him any attention as she slipped on the other heel and started pretending that the living room was her runway , watching herself in the floor to ceiling length mirror as she did so. Flicking her hair over her shoulder confidently .

Sidney exhaled quietly , tucking his hands into his pockets . "Yeah..yeah." He agreed quietly , eyes glued to her smile . A genuine one. No sarcasm or meanness to it. It took his breath away.

So he quickly turned his back to her and changed his tone of voice again, needing to rid himself of this softness that overcome him then.

"Try not to be so annoying tonight alright? No more raging parties. Otherwise I will be calling your brother about it." He threatened her , striding to the door. Needing to leave before her sweet perfume , ridiculous heels and pretty smile made him do something that he really shouldn't do.

He heard her scoff, but he still don't turn around.

"Get fucked Sid." She called after him, laughter evident in her voice. Knowing that there was no way he would be snitching again. Not when he had her right next door to keep an eye on. Not when he could just go there and scold her himself.

Still, he rolled his eyes and quipped back "you're so obsessed with fucking me and me getting fucked lately princess . You sure it's not a you probekm?"

The sound of a heel being thrown against the door as he quickly shut it behind him , echoed alongside his laughter as he went home. Grinning the whole way.

How's my sister settling in? Jacob text him concerned. Not causing you any bother is she?

Sidney didn't hesitate , no bother at all. She's a good girl.

Sidney finally got to meet cherries new boyfriend that weekend , he was already standing by the elevator waiting for it to open up when he heard a familiar voice coming from around the corner, footsteps coming his way.

He tilted his head down to his feet. Straining his ears as he listened in, brows furrowing at the upset whine to her voice. One he recognised all too well.

"I don't see why you're complaining. There's nothing wrong with my dress." She was clearly not happy, sounding put out.

Sids frown deepened . Her dress? He wondered confused. What could possibly wrong with what she was wearing? She looked good in everything and every time sid saw her, she was dressed to the nines. She loved her clothes, loved her fashion. She was trendy and on top of her game, and most the time she looked like a supermodel. Even when she was just at home.

It was something that always amazed Sidney about her. How put together she was, even when she was acting out like a little shit. She always looked good while doing it. Always a new dress and perfect hair , Sidney had never known her to miss a single nail or hair appointment even when she was sick.

A deeper voice echoed back, sounding annoyed. And it instantly had his shoulders tensing.

"A dress?" The man scoffed "is that what you're calling it? I hope you don't bend over tonight then otherwise it's over for you." He said.

Sidney scolded darkly . She did like to wear short dresses. But so fucking what? If the jackass couldn't handle it then what the hell was he even doing around a girl like Cherrie? She was way to good for him. Way out of his league.

If she was mine, Sidney thought darkly . I wouldn't care what she wore because it was her body and her choice , and if any asshole had anything to say about it. He could fight. So She wouldn't have to worry with him.

"Well you definitely won't be bending me over with that attitude mark!" He heard her snap back, but Sidney knew her. And he could hear the subtle hurt tone to her voice and knew that his slut shaming comment has gotten to her. No matter how much she pretended it hadn't.

"I'm just saying!" The idiot continued on talking down to her. And Sidney felt his fist clenched by his side as he waited for the to round the corner, wanting to see this idiot with his own two eyes.

Because why the hell was she doing going out with a guy that clearly had no respect for her? What could he have that she could possibly want?

"And I had to wait over an hour for you to get your nails done again! I've never met a girl as high maintenance once as you before! Can't you calm down a little with it? Life doesn't always have to be diamonds and high heels babe!" He condescended.

Sidney scoffed. Then he straitened up to his full height as they finally came around the corner , Cherrie looking like a deer in headlights as she realised that he had heard every word. Not looking impressed at all.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he felt his eyebrow raise in shock as he looked at the jackass. Wondering what's he saw in him.

Then he did a double take.

Dark hair. Older. Broader . Taller . Looking like a knock off version of Sid, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt . Rolex on his wrist.

Sidney couldn't believe it. His eyes flickering over to Cherrie, only to see her uncharacteristically quiet , eyes staring down at her sparkly heels instead . Looking uncomfortable as she stood stiffly by her boyfriends side.

He looks like me. Sidney thought faintly , biting back a knowing smirk as he came to a realisation then. Looking at her a little longer , almost daring her to meet his eyes. But when she didn't, when she just stayed quiet. Sid sighed.

"I don't think being high maintenance is a bad think. Sounds like she just wants to be looked after." Sidney commented bluntly , looking at the man.

Mark looked straight back, eyed him up and down in distaste. "And who the hell are you?" He scoffed.

Cherrie was embarrassed , keeping to herself as they all stepped inside the elevator . Arms around her waist , shoulder brushing against Sids as he shuffled closer to her. Eyes never leaving the side of her face , anger making him clench his jaw at how upset this guy had made her with his stupid comments.

"He's my neighbour mark. This is Sidney." She muttered.

Mark laughed "ah. This is the guy you were complaining about? The one who's got a stick up his ass?" He repeated her words.

Her cheeks flushed red as Sidney a brow at her, lips twitching . Her eyes briefly rose to meet his own for a moment before quickly looking away and clearing her throat . Embarrassed.

"Yes." She mumbled.

Sidney snorted "you know, I prefer your complaints hand delivered to me. Not second hand." He told her, unimpressed by her shit talking him to this asshole.

Cherrie looked at him with a glare "shut up Sid." She snapped.

He laughed quietly but his smile quickly fell when mark muttered impatiently that they were going to be late because of her, already walking out of the Elevator as soon as it opened, not even waiting for her as he strode off to his car.

Sidney frowned, gently taking a hold of her arm before she could trail off after him. She looked up at him in surprise.

He cleared his throat a little , eyes staring into her own with concern. "Call me if you need a getaway car alright? I don't like him at all. You shouldn't be letting him talk to you like that. He's an asshole." He murmured to her , angrily.

Embarrassed that he had seen her in such a way, that he had seen her as anything other than her usual confident and self assured self. She yanked her arm away from him with a scowl.

"Leave me alone Crosby ! I don't need your help." She hissed at him bedore storming away. Leaving Sidney stood in the lobby of their building with his arms hanging by his side, watching her leave with yet another guy that wasn't good for her. Worry written across huf face , chest tightening as she left.

Fucking hell. He rubbed a hand over his face stressfully. He was so fucked.

It wasn't until the next night that she called him in a fit of tears. Having him be her getaway driver as he picked her up outside some fancy condo. Watching in shock as she wailed in the passenger seat, mascara running down her face. Still in last nights dress.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He rushed out worriedly to her . hands hovering over her as he looked her over for any injuries . Finding none. Just tears falling from her eyes as she scowled furiously , Hand wiping at her tearful face angrily .

She sniffled loudly "it's over! He was a Right cunt Sid !" She declared to him while sobbing .

Sidney cautiously  glancing around before starting his car and getting them out of there, heart racing as he kept glancing her at her in concern, not knowing what the hell had happened. Hating that she was crying and hating that he didn't know how to solve it.

"What happened?" He asked her in one breath. Reaching his hand over to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks, keeping one hand on the wheel as he drove them home.

Cherrie groaned. Leaning down to pull off her heels, sniffling and crying as she mumbled "I overheard him calling me a bitch and a slut to his friends so I..." she hesitated to tell him. Remembering then just who she was talking to.

She crossed her legs beneath her, reaching into the backseat to grab at Sidney’s hoodie he kept there. Not even asking him before she was pulling it over her body. Covering her dress. Inhaling his scent and calming down a little , scrunching up the sleeves in her hand as she turned her body towards him.

Wanting comfort and seeking it in him.

Sidney glanced over at her, then down at his hoodie that she had pulled on, before meeting her tearful gaze again.

He sighed, bracing himself for it. "Jesus. What have you done now?" He asked her concerned. Because he knew that look on her face, knew exactly what it meant.

It was mixture of guilt, fury and shame. Like she couldn't decide what to settle on but she knew that she had fucked up. Again.

"Well..I thought. Fine. I'll show him just how much of a bitchy slut I can be so I .." her voice quietness as she told him in embarrassment "I fucked his dad."

Sidney’s head snapped to her with wide eyes, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

"You did what?!" He almost shouted. Hoping that he heard her wrong.

He hadn't.

She grimaced. Sinking deeper into her seat in shame.

"I went over there and I knew-I knew that he was at least attracted to me . I mean who wouldn't be?l" she missed Sidney’s incredulous look as she started crying again.

Still a little drunk from all the wine she had been pitifully downing the whole night . "So I seduced his dad and then fucked him-which by the way-he fucked so much better than his stupid son did-"

Sidney made a strangled noise, teeth clenching as tightly as his fists did around the steering wheel. He did not want to hear this.

"Okay! That's enough! I don't want to hear it!" He snapped. "God! Why are you like this?" He felt the anger, jealously and frustration in him take over.

Shaking his head in disappointment at her , making her lip quiver as she watched him tearfully . "It's not you at all! Why do you keep doing this? All this sex, drugs and -"

"Rock n roll?" She chimed in weakly. Giggling drunkenly as she held up the rock on sign with her fingers. Only lowering them when Sidney just glared at her. Not impressed At all.

His look of disappointment just made her cry harder, curling into herself as she looked at him with a pout on her face. Chest feeling heavy, regretting all of it. Just wishing that she had stayed home. That she had just stopped doing this and just stuck to annoying Sidney instead . Maybe then she wouldn't be stuck feeling like this.

"You're not funny." Sidney let her know . Shaking his head. "Stop crying." He muttered as he turned into their building. Chest feeling tight at the sight of her tears.

He turned off the car and unbuckled himself . Leaning over the console to cup her face in his hands , gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs . Still glaring at her as he did so. Tense and upset.

She snuggled onto his hand with a sniffle "I'm sorry." She whined , looking up at him with big , glossy eyes.

"I'm going to stop all this. I'm gonna be better." She suddenly declared. Meaning it.

Sidney laughed. He had to. Smirking down at her incredulously . "Oh really?" He didn't believe it and she could tell.

Frowning up at him , upset  . Watching as he got out of the car. Jogging around to her side to open the door for her. Unbuckling her and helping her out, grabbing her heels from her hands. Steadying her.

"I mean it Sid." She continued trying to convince him. Letting him wrap his arm around her shoulder as he led them inside safely , leaning into his side with loud yawn. "I'm done being a wild child."

He laughed even harder then , the pressure slowly easing from his chest as he cuddled her into his side. Pressing his lips against the side of her head as they came out of the elevator , stopping by her door.

"Yeah." He chuckled ruffling her hair gently "I'll believe it when I see it." He muttered amusedly.

She just huffed tiredly. Then groaned when he suddenly spun her around and tugged her into him, wrapping his big arms around her back as he squeezed her to his chest firmly. Leaving her to stare wide eyed at his chest, gasping in surprise.

She slapped his stomach "what are you doing?!" She exclaimed, voice muffled against his shirt.

He just squeezed her harder, chuckling on top of her head as he closed his eyes. Savouring the cuddle.

"Hugging you.." he mumbled. Amused. "Don't tell me you don't hug either? Are you too cool to hug me?" He teased her.

Cherrie groaned. Cheeks heating up as she loosely wrapped her arms around his waist , hugging him back. "Shut up." She mumbled. Giggling a little. "You're so stupid."

He chuckled lowly "you are." He stated shaking his head as he slowly pulled away from the embrace . Sighing at the state of her.

He took her keys from her bag and opened the door, taking ahold of her hand gently instead as he led her inside the apartment.

"Come on trouble . Let's get this makeup off you and you can sleep off the hangover." He instructed her gently .

She followed him without a single complaint. Jumping up on the counter as he pulled out her makeup remover .

"Hey Sid?" She spoke up a few minutes later when he was wiping the streaked mascara from her cheeks.

"Yeah?" He looked up at her. Biting his cheek to stop himself from smiling as he saw the pouty look on her pretty face.

"You like my dress?" She wondered quietly.

He laughed lightly , affectionately. "I do. I like all your dresses." He replied. Then "that guy was a idiot and a liar. You're perfect as you are. Don't change." He told her quietly.

His eyes widening in surprise when she suddenly leaned forward and willingly hugged him on her own, squeezing him to her with a long sigh . Her soft smile pressed against the side of his cheek as he hugged her back without any hesitation.

Yeah. He sighed. He was so , so fucked.

Sidney couldn't believe it but things really did start changing for the better after that night.

Meaning that suddenly , she never left him alone. He had almost gasped in fright the first night that he returned home after practice to find her already on his couch, watching tv.

Having let herself in without any shame . She hadn't even looked at his astonished face , merely pointed to the kitchen. And told him that there was some leftover takeout in the fridge for him.

Getting over his shock had been hard but then he was watching a movie with her. Listening to her ramble onto him about all of her favourite scenes , smiling to himself when she told him where he could have seen the actors before. His heart pounding in his chest when she fell asleep with her head against his shoulder , his arm around hers . In disbelief to himself . She stayed the night.

And since then she hadn't really left.

She was there in the mornings, sharing his horrible healthy smoothies with him. She let him drag her along to the gym with him with the promise of getting her ice cream afterwords . Then they started hanging out , going shopping together , or just driving around .

Sidney accompanied her to the bank where she got him to sort out all of her Money problems for her, claiming that she needed an 'adultier adult.' Which she clearly was not.

Then she started coming to see his games. In the family box waiting for him, wearing his shirt with a wide smile on her face each night. Hugging him whether they won or lost and Sidney felt like he was on cloud nine. Yet too scared to break it, too scared to wake up from his dream. So he didn't say anything for a while , didn't question her sudden closeness. Just bathed in it instead.

He ignored his friends knowing looks, told her brother that he was just looking out for her as he cooked her a home made meal . Bought all of her favourite snacks and tried to bake cookies just because she was craving them.

And Sidney could only feel both overwhelmed and amused because he knew what was happening. He wasn't some dumb kid that wasn't aware of his own feelings or somebody else's .

He could see the way she looked at him now, saw the way she lingered and waited impatiently for his attention. The way she would look his way after each dumb joke she said, just to see if he would laugh. The way she went out of her way to prove to him that she wasn't going to be some dumb little shithead anymore that sent his blood pressure skyrocketing just for fun

She finally wanted him her like he had wanted her for so long and it felt so fucking food to know. Even though they hadn't said a thing.

Sidney knew what was happening. And he could only smile despite knowing how fucked he was. He has fallen for trouble and trouble was finally falling for him too.

Then he opened his door one night and could only sigh in disbelief as he saw Cherrie waiting for him, eyes trailing down to the fluffy fur ball in her Arms, a not so innocent smile on her pretty face She cheesed at him.

He just groaned "Jesus Christ Cherrie! I was only gone for a couple of hours!" He breathed out . Hesitantly reaching out his hand to stroke the kittens soft head, eyes never leaving cherries face. Arching his brow at her as he waited for excuse to come.

It didn't disapirnwmnt . She never did.

"I needed a friend! Isn't he pretty? It's a rag doll. I've called him zoomy." She told him proudly. Kissing it's little head repeatedly as it purred away in her arms, big blue eyes slowly blinking up at her. She awwed loudly .

Sidney just sighed, more than amused. Unable to be mad at her. I mean. It was Cherrie. This was absolutely something she would do. Silently move herself into his home and get them a cat while he was at practice .

"Why?" He dared to ask.

She grinned "cause look." She put the little kitten down. Both of them watching as the cat suddenly took off and started sprinting around the room chaotically , fast as fuck.

Sidney let out a mixture of a groan and laugh, rubbing his hands over his face with a disbelieving grin.

"You're unbeblivale ." He said. Fondly .

Then he looked at her and muttered "going home anytime soon?" Already knowing her answer . The little kitten scratching at his heels as it followed him into the kitchen. Sidney pulling out all the ingredients he would need to make her favourite food.

Cherrie threw herself down onto the couch with a giggle. "You kicking me out?" she called out to him. Grinning As she put in his favourite movie for them to watch.

He grinned down at the cutting board , cheeks flushed with happiness as he picked up zoomy and placed the kitten on his chest , kissing its little head .

Heart pounding in his chest as he dared another peak at her, safe and content with him. In his home.

"Would you even leave if I did?" He joked.

Silence.

Then a snort "i don't listen to liars Sid. You've always wanted me here. You're never getting rid of me now." She told him confidently . Seeing right through him. She always had.

Sidney just smiled.

Then her brother text him , my sister doing good?

Sidney hesitated . Then replied. Best she's ever been. And he's wasn't lying. He just failed to tell him that the reason why she was the best she had ever been was because she was with him.

Sidney finally spoke up about them playing house without telling each other how they really felt a month later.

After staring down at the boutique of flowers on the kitchen island that he had gotten her every Friday , signing off his and cherries name as his plus one to his teammates wedding . He came to the startling real stool then that this was really it for him.

They did everything together now. He had met her friends. She hung out with his. They had dinner together almost every night . She practically lived with him. Most of his wardrobe was filled with her pretty dresses and he could barely find his sneakers through the mountain of her heels.

Her makeup sat in his bathroom, her tooth brush next to his. Most nights they fell asleep on his bed while cuddling together, their favourite shows playing in the background.

They were a couple without being a couple and Sidney was getting too old to be playing these games and he knew that if he didn't bring the whole subject up first, then they would be doing this forever . Because Cherrie definitely would not say it first.

She was more of a 'always have the last word' Kinda girl instead.

So looking down at the little cat in his arms. He kissed it's tiny head for courage , sighing into its soft fur as he mumbled . "This is it zoomy. Jacob is going to kill me." Before putting him down carefully.

Then Sidney took a deep breath, gathered his courage and looked at her. She had been browsing gifts to get his friends for their wedding, head snapping over to him mid ramble when he said her name. Firmly .

Eyes widening at the serious look on his face, she blinked at him. "What?" She laughed a little, but the feeling in her gut told her that she knew exactly what was coming. Had been waiting for this moment really.

She slowly put down her phone and faced him, fidgeting with her rings as she sat on her stool. Heart pounding nervously in her chest. This was really it. She realised.

"What the hell are we doing Cherrie?" He breathed out . Slowly walking to her side , bending his head so that she would meet his eyes. Needing her to realise that he was serious this time. No time for playing around.

She laughed a little nervously  "what do you mean?" She tried to play dumb but it wasn't working.

Sidney just levelled her with a stern look, shaking his head at her. Tapping his fingers against the counter anxiously . "I'm getting too old for your games princess. What's going on?" He repeated a little more firmly this time. Watching her cool facade crumble just like that.

The sigh she let out was shaky as she swung her legs around to face him, wrapping her arms around his stomach as she pulled him in between her legs. Hugging him, Sidney only hesitated for a moment before loosely putting his hand on the back of her head as she rested her chest on his chest. Running his fingers gently through her hair to keep her calm, grounding her.

Her mumble was muffled ahinst his shirt "you've always taken care of me Crosby." She fiddled with the belt loop of his jeans as she said it.

He gently tugged at her ponytail to get her to look up at him, his face calm despite the rapid racing of his Heart . He knew that this was meant to be. Knew where this was heading and he wasn't scared anymore . He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever.

"I have." He agreed quietly "I've always wanted the best for you but you never seemed to go for that." He told her honestly .

Even when they were bickering and arguing , when she was giving him attitude and getting on his nerves . He had always made her his priority. Had always made sure that she was okay, that she was safe and getting everything that she needed and wanted. Simply because he was a sucker for her.

He always had been. That was the problem. Falling in love with his best friends little sister had never been the plan. But when did anything ever go as planned anyays?

And deep down, Cherrie knew it. She knew exactly what she was doing. Knew exactly what he was feeling and how he felt about her. It wasn't hard to see.

How he had spent years making excuses to be around her. Coming to every gathering, every party and event with them. Even though he liked to be low key and kind of hated the rest of jacobs friends. He still came , because he wanted to see her.

He always picked up the phone in the middle of the night , always ready to drive her home from her drunken escapedes . Always ready to be her getaway car. Helping her sneak back in the house , helping her sober up so her parents wouldn't realise what she had been doing . Even when they 'hated' each other. He was always on her side. Always.

She sighed in vague amusement , and fondness was written all across her pretty face as she gazed up at him. Chin resting on his chest as he looked down at her, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard . She rested her hand over his heart and felt how it raced beneath her skin, then she laughed lightly .

"I know that the apartment you gave me is yours Sid. And I know that you paid off my parking tickets and I know that you're the one that got that jackass , who badmouthed me at that restaurant, fired. And I know that everything good that's happened to me has always been because of you." She admitted to him affectionately.

Sidney was speechless. And a little mortified .

Face going red as he realised that he really hasn't been subtle af all. It was one of those times where he thanked the heavens that her brother was so fucking oblivious, otherwise he had a feeling that he would have had his ass handed to him a long time ago.

Was his love for her really that obvious? Who else knew?

She did.

And she was smirking up at him smugly , gently squeezing his waist to bring him back down to Earth.

"You know?" He weakly muttered. Taken aback. Having expected that he would need to lay out a whole love confession to her to get her to understand.

She nodded her head, giggling. "I know old man." She confirmed amused.

"Can't resist a pretty face huh Crosby ?" She teased him.

He gently cupped her face in his hands. Smile softening , face wary as he admitted to her quietly. "I can't. Not one as pretty as yours but Cherrie.." he hesitated for a moment. Not wanting to scare her away but needing her to know that this was it for him.

"This is serious for me alright?" He tells her softly , the colour on his face only deepening. Blushing like a school girl as he gazed down at her , so in love with trouble that it hurt .

"I want forever with you . I don't want to play games or have to worry about you not being mine. I want-" he stumbled over his words for a moment , overwhelmed by her then. Overwhelmed by all that he felt for her. He didn't know that it was possible to love somebody so much. "-I'm not getting any younger and you're still so young ..you have to be sure-"

She cut him off quickly , still smiling .

"I'm sure." Shes more serious than he's ever seen her. Looking up at him like he was her entire world and all the stars intertwined .

He breathed out shakily , hands trembling on her jaw as he pulled her closer . "Are you? Because I'll get it if you're not ready , you've never been serious about a guy in your life. I don't want to be boyfriend number thousand. I don't want to be someone that you regret." He whispered to her .

She shook her head at him, eyes glossy and heart so full for the man that had never let her down. Had never let her go. Realising that he had waited for her to be ready, had let her get all of her stupid mistakes and rebounds out of her system first .

He had let her be young and dumb, had let her live. But now she realised that happiness was what she wanted. And what was life without happiness?

Her happiness was staring down at her like she was his heart . Like she was the shoelaces to his shoes. The bones that protected his heart, like she was the one.

So She smiled "Your not going to be.. you're going to be the last boyfriend that I ever have Sidney Crosby . Because I love you. I have for a while and I'm sorry for being such a little shithead and making you wait around for me." She told him honestly . A little embarrassed but so fucking thankful that he had stuck around .

He laughed Wetly , struck with love for her. Shaking his head in vague amusement , his thumbs rubbing circles into her soft skin as he nudged their noses together gently .

"Don't be. I enjoy you being a shithead . It's what made me fall in love with you , you're trouble. And I love that. Are you sure that you're serious about this?" He needed to know. His future standing right in front of him. Bright eyes and a pretty smile .

It was always going to be her , wasn't it?

"I am." She promised him. Her cheek in his hand. Smiling up at him genuinely. "I want you Sidney." She told him. Meaning it with everything in her. She wanted everything that he could give her.

So he kissed her. Like he had dreamt of kissing her for the last couple of years. Caressing her mouth with his own, his hand cupping her jaw as she pulled him closer. Her fingers scratching lightly into his scalp as he sighed blissfully against her tongue , tasting her. Needing her so bad it hurt .

"Aren't you going to say it back to me now ?" She impatiently mumbled into the kiss, and he could feel her frowning against his cheek , fingers tugging a little harder at his hair in punishment for making her wait .

He laughed breathlessly against her lips, more than amused at the sass she still had. Even in a soft moment like this, she still gave him attitude.

That was his girl.

"I'm so in love with you." He grinned , kissing her again simply because he could now .

Then he groaned in misery "And your brother is going to kill me." He muttered , sighing as he pulled away.

Looking down at her carefully , his lips twitching . Taking in her swollen lips and flushed cheeks , the way she pulled him in. Fidgeting with his belt loops , Puckering her lips up impatiently for another kiss. Greedy for them now.

"Which part of my face do you think he'll break first?" He wondered out loud warily.

She just grinned. Giggling . Kissing all across his face , giddy with love.

"Hopefully not your nose. I really like your face. Kind of want to sit on it soon ." She let him know. Not caring too much about it.

She loved him. He loved her. There really wasn't much her brother could do about it now. No matter what he did or what he said , it wasn't going to change a single thing.

So She kissed him again. Smugly. "I'm worth it through aren't i?" She confidently muttered , giggling as he bruised his face into her neck. His laughter tickling her skin as he held her close, the smile never leaving his face.

He laughed breathlessly as she began tugging him impatiently to the bedroom. The buttons of his shirt flying across the room as she ripped it off him, leaving him panting and watching her with wide eyes . So in love it hurt.

"You are so worth it." He promised. Meaning it.

He would take as many punches to the face as her brother gave him. As long as he got to come home to her for the rest of his life. He would be happy.

She was trouble . But she was Cherrie. And he loved her. So the little shithead was worth every headache and every worry.

Because she was his now.

Finally.

[moodymisty]

Love your fics!!! You and imagine darksiders are my favorite writers😍

I have a small request for you. Could you write death/reader story where the reader is a beginner doctor and is trying to figure out the anatomy of a nephilim? Very curious human and a very grumpy death fluff! Thank youuu

Author's Note: You mention little 'ol me alongside Imagine-darksiders? I'm going to sob; She was the reason I started trying to write for these silly little Nephilim after playing the games. I read CHWH so fast after completing ds2. Thank you for such kind words, and I hope you enjoy :3 Death is not a very good patient for examination, so you're mostly going by sight XD

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some vague pining (mostly from Death lmao), Fluff, Medical references

"Is curiosity to the point of annoyance common, for your kind?"

Death's words are slathered with sarcasm like grease over a freshly polished weapon, watching as you just shrug your shoulders at him.

"Depends on who you ask."

He doesn't respond; Though the cross of his arms and the fact that you feel like he's rolling his eyes at you gives enough away that he doesn't really need to. But it's not as if you can help being curious, leaning against the countertop that puts you opposite of Death. Nephilim are just so, different, that little passionate part of your brain finds itself itching for all the answers.

"I could always just ask Strife, if I'm bothering you."

You don't mean it sarcastically, shrugging your shoulders; If anything, the gunslinger would probably be quite eager to have a chat with you that didn't involve the elder Horseman looming over you like some sort of sentry.

The idea of you just ending this conversation going to Strife however seems to make him recoil, and bristle at the shoulders. You can't fathom why; If he's so irritated by you curiously prodding him like a bunch of med students around a donated cadaver, why is he so against you asking his more outgoing brother? You'd think he'd be eager to shove your eagerness in the direction of the most talkative Horsemen.

Well, if you aren't going to win either way, might as well get whatever you can out of him before he decides to finally brush you off.

"I just have to know; I noticed awhile back War has actual-" You bring your index fingers to your mouth, hooking them to form the pantomime of fangs. "Do all Nephilim have them?"

Death knows he should correct you to past tense, but he doesn't.

"Most, yes." You cock your head a bit into one shoulder and look up at him with an expression that erodes at him like waves hitting a cliff.

"Do you?" Death, watching your raised brows and expectant face, changes little from his cross armed stance.

"If you are asking me to remove the mask you should know well by now the answer is no." Death's hair, having actually been washed at some point in the past few weeks softly falls over his shoulders as he raises his head, pitch black strands brushing over his bare skin.

"Do you need to take it off to use your tongue?" Death takes one step to round the counter, and you quickly jump backwards with a nervous smile to maintain the same amount of distance.

"You are getting far too comfortable with that tone of yours." He points at you with a single finger before he gives up on the chance and returns to his previous position. Standing back upright, you smile at him and attempt to once again appease him away from reprimanding you any further.

"Ok, ok, one more question?"

Death, in all of his bite about your excessive comfort around him, doesn't refuse your request. He doesn't have to wait very long to hear it, thankfully.

"Can I see you hand?"

Death's eyebrows quirk behind his mask visible to you by the change his eye shape, but he doesn't retreat when you come closer. Gently you reach for the fingers of his right hand and he lets you grab them, pulling his hand upwards towards what is about your chest height.

You put your own hand against his palm, observing the sheer difference in size between the both of them. From this angle it's a bit hard for him to fully see, just barely catch glimpses of your skin pressing against his palm when he adjusts his hand.

"Wow, they're even bigger than Strife's..."

When did you hold his younger brother's hand?

He tries to ignore the unwelcome feeling bubbling up inside him with the feeling of your soft skin against his own, as your fingertips barely make it halfway up his own fingers. Your hand is so warm and gentle, as well as the fascinated smile on your face as you eagerly look at every possible angle. If it was this easy to entertain you, Death might not have been so apposed to it originally. The feeling of being the apple of your eye is nice, for a moment.

But he doesn't know how to respond- so he clams up, taking his hand away from yours and crossing both his arms back across his chest.

"Can you call your curiosity sated for now?"

Not really, but you don't think you're going to be able to get much more out of him for the time being. If anything you're counting your blessings you got this much out of him in the first place, considering how unreasonable Death is at times.

"Yeah, thanks for the help." He just makes a small hum in response.

"Don't make this a common occurrence; I won't be holding Despair still while you poke and prod at him as well."

Well animals aren't exactly your area of expertise, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be interesting, to have a look... Death notices your visible perk in body posture and shakes his head. You can't help the curious part of your brain from working.

"Just keep your hands away from his mouth. I won't be returning your fingers."

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Taking Comfort (in Your Arms) - Chapter 13

November 1, 1943, 1200 Hours

Twenty-three days. 23 days without a word whether John, Gale, Benny, Brady, and the rest of the men were alive, sitting in a Stalag or killed in action. The longer the time went on, the hope Addie had felt those first few days slowly faded. She was constantly on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear something. At this point, she would have settled for word of their deaths, just to stop her mind from wandering, though that was exactly the last thing she wanted to hear. She couldn’t think about the what ifs. It had gotten to the point when she entered the command center, all she had to do was look at Croz and he would sadly shake his head. 

Placing her coffee cup down on the table, she pushed back from the table, letting her head fall back with a sigh. Josie looked at her friend with concern as she sat across from her. “I won’t ask how you’re doing because I think I have a pretty good idea. But is there anything you need?” 

“Word that he’s okay . . . is that too much to ask?” Pulling her head up, she looked over at Josie, biting her lip. “I mean the Germans have nothing better to do than to let us know who they’ve got in custody.” 

Josie cracked a smile at that. “Glad your sarcasm hasn’t disappeared completely.” 

“I am trying my best.” Addie smirked, shaking her head. 

Josie sighed, feeling exactly how she felt, and nodded. “That’s all we can do - one foot in front of the other. Have you heard from Lydia or Anna lately?” 

“Got a letter a few days ago from them. They were thinking of coming for Thanksgiving, just so we weren’t alone. I was thinking of writing them back and telling them to stay at their base - we’re going to be miserable so no use in bringing anyone else down with us.” Addie gave her best friend a look. 

She bit her lip, watching Addie cautiously, worried for her despite her own pain. “Might not be a bad idea for them to come here - it’ll be nice to see them.” 

“Did they put you up to this to gang up on me?” Addie shot her a wink, while her hand played with her napkin, avoiding Josie’s look. 

Josie shrugged, a little too innocently. “Maybe . . .we’re just looking out for you Addie. We’re all a bit worried about you. What can we do?” 

“Make the Germans give us the information on the boys would be a good start.” Addie bit her lip, another sigh escaping. “I just hate that we don’t have any information - I would think they would be screaming from the top of the mountains that they have our men in camps or even talking about prisoner exchanges. The silence is deafening and eerie.” 

Josie sighed, not disagreeing with her best friend. “C’mon, let’s head back to the tower. I’ve heard that we’ve got visitors coming later on today.” Josie mentioned, knowing Addie’s attention would peak at that information. 

Just like she predicted, after they left the table, Addie gave her a look. “What do you know about these visitors?” 

“Word is that we’re getting another four forts being delivered. Kidd mentioned that some higher ups were supposed to be making a surprise visit here too.” Josie mentioned, slipping her hands into her jacket as they walked back. 

Humming, Addie nodded, eyes scanned the airfield, smiling as she watched Meatball run around with Lemmons and his crew. Billy and Sammy, the two local boys, were eagerly throwing the tennis ball for Meatball to chase. “I’m going to go check with Ken to make sure he’s good with keeping Meatball for a bit longer. I’ll see you back up in the tower.” 

Pausing, she watched Josie make her way towards the tower before turning and heading towards the commotion with a grin on her face. “Lemmons!” 

“Hey Addie. Come to collect Meatball?” He grabbed a cloth, wiping the excess oil off his hands, grinning at her. 

Shaking her head, watching Meatball lay down in the grass, tongue hanging out as he panted loudly. “Quite the opposite. Checking to see if you wanted to keep him for a bit longer? Looks like the boys are having fun with him.” 

“You don’t know the half of it. I don’t know who is having more fun - Meatball or the boys?” Lemmons watched Meatball chase after the ball that Sammy had just thrown for him. 

Addie giggled. “Well at least someone will sleep well tonight.” 

Raising an eyebrow at her, Ken gave her a look. “You doing okay? Need someone to talk to?” 

“Sick of waiting for news. Just wish the Germans would tell us if they’re lying in a field somewhere or relatively safe in a Stalag.” She shrugged, running a hand over her face with a loud sigh. “Sorry, that was harsh. Just want to know where our boys are.” 

Ken pulled her into a side hug, as she laid her head on his shoulder. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. “Thanks, Ken. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling - you fix the planes that take our boys up and when they don’t come back . . .” 

She left the sentence hanging as Ken nodded sadly. “I’m sure you and I have similar feelings on that. Definitely miss seeing the men around the base.” 

“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.” She whispered, eyes on Meatball getting cuddles and rubs from the two boys. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Meatball. I’ll come grab him a little bit, if that’s okay?”

“Sounds good Addie.” He started to head back to the shed. “Addie?” 

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m here if you need anything. I know a lot of people have told you that but if you need anything, you just need to ask.” He said as she nodded and grinned, heading back to the Tower. 

Climbing the stairs, she tilted her head back, sun warming her skin and the wind blowing her hair gently. Feeling the cool metal on her hand, she took a deep breath, reminding herself to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.  

November 25, 1943, 1400 Hours - Thanksgiving 

The day was long, and it wasn’t even 1400 hours yet. Addie and Josie had spent a precious few hours with Anna and Lydia, who could only get a 24-hour pass to spend with them. The night before was spent dancing and drinking while the morning was subdued with the stark realization the boys wouldn’t be home anytime soon.  Many tears were shed by Addie and Josie, to the annoyance of them both, tired of shedding tears with no news to accompany them. 

Now she stood in line to get her Thanksgiving feast, wishing she was anywhere but there currently. Smiling weakly at the kitchen staff, she scanned the room looking for a vacant seat. A true smile crossed her lips when she spotted Rosie all alone. 

Taking a seat at the table across from Rosie, she sighed. Unwrapping her silverware, she stared at the food on her plate for a moment. She longed for a true Thanksgiving dinner, real turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy like her mom used to make, not what the Air Force was attempting to pass as Thanksgiving dinner. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Addie.” Rosie nodded at her as she picked up her fork and started poking the food on her plate. 

Giving him a sad smile, she nodded. “Happy Thanksgiving, Rosie. What have you been doing with your day off?” 

“Played a bit of football with the boys earlier.” Rosie smiled. “We had a good game going. Probably will probably do another game after this if you want to come watch.” 

Nodding, Addie agreed, taking a bite of her food. Not like there was anything else to do around base. “Sounds fun. Meatball and I will be in the crowd. What would you be doing if you were back home in New York?” 

“Probably would’ve gone to the parade earlier then gone home and ma would’ve been cooking. The house would’ve smelt incredible. The entire family would’ve crowded into our apartment around all the mismatched tables and chairs.” Rosie’s grin didn’t disappear the entire time he was talking, obviously thinking about the previous Thanksgiving he had spent with family. “What about you?” 

Addie took a sip of her water sighing. “Not sure . . . haven’t been back in the States since 1941 so not sure what I would be doing. Probably in the kitchen cooking, joking with my cousins. When I was younger, we’d go to my grandmother’s house - dad was one of five so the entire family would come together on Thanksgiving. The house would be so loud, all my cousins and siblings running throughout the house, my grandmother, aunts, and mom would be hanging out in the kitchen while all the guys crowded around the TV with whatever football game on. It was loud and happy.” 

“Those are some good memories, Addie.” Rosie smiled brightly. “Sounds like a big family and lots of noise.” 

She laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t know the half of it Rosie.” 

Silence descended on the table as they both were lost in thought. “You know I never asked you, but do you have a sweetheart, Rosie?” 

“If I had a sweetheart, Addie, do you think I would have mentioned her in the two months that I’ve been here?” Rosie raised an eyebrow at her as she grinned widely back. 

Shrugging her shoulders, she had a glint in her eyes. “You’re a man of mystery, Rosie. It wouldn’t be hard for you to keep a girl quiet. Hell, half of the new recruits are scared to death of you . . .” 

“Gotta keep them on their toes, Addie.” He chuckled. “As for the new recruits, if you look at them, you’d scare them too!” 

Addie smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard the rumors?”

“No, what rumors?” 

“That I’m a dropped-out ATA girl.” She grinned wickedly. 

Rosie tilted his head, looking at her confused. “But you are a drop out ATA girl - why is that a rumor?” 

“The rumor is that I got kicked out for crashing and burning a fort on a run.” She gave him a smirk. “Little do they know the actual reason I was kicked out . . . much more scandalous than that.” 

Rosie chuckled. “That’s too funny. Have you talked or interacted with them much?” 

“No, I hesitate to do so. Don’t want to get close to any of them and they go down like Bucky and Buck. I know Bucky would want me to and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t do it, Rosie.” She sighed, shaking her head, biting her lip. “I can’t say goodbye anymore.”

Nodding sorrowfully, Rosie looked at his friend. There was nothing he could say. He laid his hand down on the table, palm up allowing her to put hers on top, giving it a squeeze. “Have you flown lately?” 

Shaking her head, she bit her lip. “No, haven’t been out old man Rivers’ in a bit. Need to get out there.” 

“What if we go out there this afternoon?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She perked up a bit, giving him a wearily look. “You want to go up with me? I would have thought you’d heard it from the boys that I scared them.” 

“It would be my honor to go up with you, if you want to go up.” Rosie offered, watching her mull it over for a second. 

Nodding, a grin slid across her lips. “Let’s go. I promise I won’t scare you like I did with Bucky and Buck.” 

Within 45 minutes, Addie was behind a jeep, driving them towards old man Rivers’ house. The old man waved at the jollily as they drove towards the barn. Parking the jeep, she walked with a pep in her step towards the barn, throwing open the door happily. “Ta da! Rosie, may I introduce you to Daffodil? Daffodil, this is my friend Rosie.” 

Rosie whistled as he walked around the brightly colored Tiger Moth. “You can go ahead and climb up into the co-pilot’s seat. I’ll be up as soon as I finish the checks.” 

Soon she joined him up in the pilot's seat with a grin. Placing the headset on her head, she finished her checks before speaking in the headset. “You ready Rosie?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She grinned, hearing the excitement in his voice. “Amazing that you came all the way to England and just happened to find someone who had a spare Tiger Moth that let you fly it whenever you wanted.” 

She laughed, starting the engine and starting to taxi it out of the barn. “It’s good to make friends in foreign allied countries, Rosie. Especially friends who just happen to have a spare plane we can joyride in.” 

His laugh was caught in the wind as they went airborne. She pushed the plane higher, leveling out at 5,000 feet, she excitedly yelled at the feeling of being back in the air.  “Anywhere in particular you want to go, Rosie?” 

“I’m just along for the ride, Addie. You’re the pilot.” He replied back, his head on a swivel as he looked out of the open skies in front of them. “It’s different up here.” 

“Yeah, you get to sit back and relax for once, Rosie. Just enjoy the flight and take in the sights.” She joked with him.

Settling back in her seat, Addie felt her shoulders relax as she pushed the Tiger Moth a bit more as she directed it towards Thorpes Abbott. As they flew, Addie pointed out points of interest to Rosie as they continued their flight. “We’re almost to Thorpes. Did you tell anyone we were going up?” 

“No, I thought you did?” She laughed hearing the confusion in his voice. “Nope, Rosie. I told Harding you and I were going for a joyride but he’s the only one. I think Maddie is on the wireless today, so she’ll see us flying around.” 

She saw the airfield in the distance and giggled to herself. “I know you’ve buzzed the tower in a fort before, but have you ever done it in a Tiger Moth?” 

“Can’t say I have. But I’m sure you’ve done it a time or two.” He quipped back. 

“Every single birthday since I was 13, most of them in a Tiger Moth. I buzzed this tower on my birthday with Bucky in the co-pilot’s seat, just before I scared Buck by stalling the engine.” She laughed, happy at thinking of the memories instead of being sad of them. “Get ready Rosie!” 

Lining up Daffodil, she flew over the airfield once, seeing Lemmons and his crew cheering loudly at seeing her. She flew back around, lining the plane up, a grin tugging at her lips. “Let’s do this Rosie.” 

And they buzzed the tower, both of them cheering, watching Harding, Josie, Crosby, and Kidd all hit the deck. Throwing her head back, Addie whooped and laughed at the feeling free for the first time since Bucky had gone down. 

2000 Hours

Running her fingers through Meatball’s fur, she reread the words that she had written to Bucky. She had taken up writing to him, even though she had nowhere to send them. Just writing to him made her feel like he was still here with her. 

My dearest John, 

Happy Thanksgiving. God, I wish you were here and sitting beside me complaining about the lack of real turkey and mashed potatoes. But mostly, I wish you were here so I could cuddle with you and be grateful that you were safe and sound in my arms. 

But alas, that’s not our current reality. I took Rosie up in Daffodil today and had a great time. It’s the first time I’ve been up since you went down and I think I needed it more than I thought I did.  Despite not being back in the US, we had a pretty good day - a couple of the replacements started a football game and got the base out in droves to watch. The food was lackluster, but spirits were up. As soon as I’m done writing, I’m heading to the officer’s club with Blakely, Douglass, Croz, and Rosie for a drink. 

I wish I had more to tell you, John, but I miss you. I miss your laugh and the little grins you’d shoot my way. I miss you randomly dropping by my desk in the mornings and the little kisses you’d give me. I miss the little notes you’d leave me, but those that I have I treasure more than you’d know. 

Jack gave me your jacket and I’m going to be really honest, you’re probably not getting it back when you return. It’s mine now . . . though I may need you to wear it, so it regains your scent. 

These last 47 days have been hard - I won’t lie. But I keep hope that you’re still alive, hopefully in a Stalag and relatively safe and warm. 

Write to me, soon? Let me know you’re alive? 

I love you, John. 

Addie

December 5, 1943, 0800 Hours

Walking into the office, she flipped the lights on, the harshness causing her to groan. Getting to work making a pot of coffee, it was another twenty minutes before she sat at her desk. Looking at her calendar, she sighed with the lack of meetings scheduled, knowing the day would drag by slowly. 

She felt like she was stuck and kept telling herself no news was good news. She still had hope that that particular day she would hear something, though the days had slipped by with no news of Bucky or Buck or DeMarco or any of the men that had gone down in October. 

Addie was doing the best she could, which wasn’t all that great. She prayed her days would go by quickly so she could slip off to bed, where she tossed and turned. The girls had stopped asking questions weeks ago, Josie and Addie both shells of their former selves. She knew Bucky would be pissed if he saw her like this, but he wasn’t around, so she didn’t care much. She was utterly alone, left to battle each day by herself. 

As she went to take a sip of the piping hot coffee, Harding threw open his door, causing her to jump in surprise, spilling coffee on her hand, causing her to cuss. “Addie, come with me.” 

Something in her voice caused her not to question it and quickly followed him. Hurrying after him, they rushed down the stairs of the tower, making a quick walk to the command center. Not delaying, Harding threw open the door, calling out to Crosby, “what’s the news Croz?” 

“You brought Addie?” Crosby called back, not seeing her standing behind him. 

Harding cleared his throat, giving Crosby a very pointed look, pointing behind him. “Crosby, she’s here. What’s the news?” 

“I just got a call from London with the new POW list.” Crosby grabbed the list he had hurriedly scrawled the names given. “Buck, Bucky, DeMarco, Brady, Murphy, Crank, and Hambone, along with all their crews, are all in the Stalag Luft III.”

For the first time since October 10, Addie felt like she could actually breathe. Her eyes went wide at that news. “They’re alive?” 

“As of a week ago, yes. I asked for a report of the health of the men but they weren’t able to give me that information.” Crosby looked apologetic as her face fell slightly. 

Sighing heavily, Addie felt the tears welled in her eyes. Feeling someone pull her into their side, she rested her head on their shoulder. Looking up, she smiled seeing Rosie and threw her arm around his side, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Crosby, is there any other news?” 

“You got mail.” He handed over two envelopes, and she stepped forward, accepting the envelopes. “One is for Josie, can you make sure she gets it?” 

Nodding, she flipped to the one addressed to her and couldn’t help the tears that escaped. A sob crept up, escaping her mouth. A steady stream of tears flowed down her face as she looked at the concerned faces around her. “It’s a letter from Bucky.” 

The men surrounding her nodded. She gave them looks, backing out of the center, stumbling towards the runway to where the closest fort was parked. She sighed, fifty-seven days, since she heard from Bucky and now she had an envelope addressed to her in his handwriting. Once she was close enough, she sat against the tire, giving the envelope a glance before tearing into it. 

Her eyes swept over the familiar scrawl, bits of it blacked out due to the sensors. Putting the paper to her nose, she breathed in the familiar scent that she had associated with Bucky - tobacco and sandalwood. 

October 19, 1943

My dearest Addie, 

I’m alive, Bluebird. I’m in —--------------- and I’m safe for the most part. I was a mess when I first arrived but after seeing the medic, I’m alright. Busted a rib and my eye socket is bruised but I’m alive, Bluebird. Buck’s here - met me at the gates with a “what the hell took you so long” and a grin. He’s in the next compound over but I see him daily - he sends his hellos and well wishes to you. 

Tell Josie that DeMarco is here and he’s fine. I think he’s writing a letter to her but maybe not say that just in case. Send my regards to Meatball - I hope he’s keeping you company in my absence. 

I know we didn’t leave on the best terms, and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing for that, but I love you, Addie. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and it’s killing me that I’m not by your side right now. 

I’m not quite sure where we are currently but I think we’re in —----------.  The camp we’re in has —-----, —--------, —-------, and —----------. Most of the men here are Americans and for the most part, they treat us humanly.  Could use an extra blanket or two but I’m doing alright. At least I’m with the rest of my men. 

I wish I could kiss you senselessly and give you a big hug. I love you lots, Addie. 

Yours,

John

Another sob escaped her mouth as she reread his words. She hoped he was that upbeat and not putting on a show in a letter just for her.

“Oh John.” Her heart broke all over again as she reread the letter, wishing more than anything that he was sitting beside her rather than 1,100 miles away from her. 

She read it three more times before she sighed, the tension leaving her at the happy news. Despite the fact he wasn’t there with her, he was alive, and that’s all she had asked for the last 57 days. 

December 15, 1943, 1700 Hours

“Addie, Harding wants you to go meet the group of pilots that are arriving on hard stand 4 in fifteen minutes.” Josie murmured to her, dropping a folder on her desk.

Picking up the folder, she flipped through it, looking wide-eyed at Josie. “I’ve never had to do it for any of the other pilots arriving here.” 

“You went and met Rosie, remember?” Josie raised an eyebrow, grinning. “It’ll be just like that.” 

Tossing the folder down on her desk, Addie wiped face. She wasn’t really in the mood to be the welcoming committee to anyone. “No, no it won’t be just like that. I won’t have Bucky teasing me.” 

Sighing, Josie walked over to the other side of her desk, leaning over to give her a hug. “I know you don’t want to be your bubbly self, but these pilots are coming to the base and many of them don’t know what to expect. Just go welcome them, give them the lay of the land then you can curl up with Meatball. I’ll bring you dinner afterwards.” 

Nodding, she sighed, pushing back from her desk to stand. “You okay keeping Meatball until I’m done?” 

Looking over at the dog, passed out in his dog bed, Josie half-smiled. “Sure. I think he might be mad if you attempt to move him now.” 

Slightly smiling, Addie nodded, grabbing the set of keys, pushing through the door, jogging down the stairs. Sighing, she climbed into the jeep, starting the engine, heading out to the hard stand. Parking, she watched the plane land, navigating to the hard stand, coming to a stop with the engine cutting off. She leaned against the jeep, watching the grounds crew, hurriedly put the chocks on the tires as a man dropped from the hatch. 

Addie narrowed her eyes, something familiar about the way the man stood, looking around the field. Picking up his bag, his gaze fell to hers and she knew. She knew why that man looked so familiar. 

Unable to do anything else, Addie bent at the waist, tears immediately welling up in her eyes as she cried. 

It was her brother. Charlie was home. Standing tall, her hand flew to her mouth as tears continued to fall.

“Adelaide Baker!” He hollered, making his way towards her. Dropping his bag, he opened up his arms, eagerly waiting for her to run into them. He kissed her cheek, picking her up and spinning her around, just as he did when they were younger. “Oh how I have missed you.” 

Waiting until her feet were back on the ground, she laughed happily, slapping his arm. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m home, they finally granted my request for transfer.” Charlie grinned. “I’m going to be a trainer here, no missions of my own.” 

Giving him a look, she took in his words, a bright smile crossing her face. “You won’t be going up?” 

“No, I’ll be working in the command center, assisting with building the missions but I won’t be a pilot. This is a promotion, believe it or not.” Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. “They asked me what base I wanted to be stationed at and this was the only one that came to mind.”

Throwing her arms around his shoulder, she laughed. “Oh, this is the best news I have heard in the last ten days.” 

“Only in the last ten days? What was before that?” He asked, scratching his jaw, looking at his baby sister. 

“We got word ten days ago that Bucky and Buck are POWs at a Stalag.” She looked at him, watching his eyes go wide at that news. He had made inquiries about them but had been told that was above his clearance and no one was willing to talk about them. “I got a letter from Bucky the same day letting me know him and Buck were safe.” 

Charlie smiled. “Well ain’t that something. I’m glad you finally heard from him. I kept getting dead ends anytime I would inquire. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that was above my paygrade, I'd be rich and could retire.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t pick Anna’s base to go home to.” She smirked, finally happy that she could tease her brother about his not-so-secret girlfriend. 

He threw his head back and laughed, loudly. “I thought about it for a minute but figured you’d need some family here. Besides, Anna’s the preferred B-17 pilot now for Thorpes, so she’ll be here plenty.” 

“Hmm . . . you’re back in England for all of 48 hours and you’re already pulling strings.” Addie smirked at her brother as he started weakly protesting. “You know I’m right. Come on, I’ll give you the penny tour and show you where you’ll be staying.” 

Leading him over to the jeep, she got in the driver’s seat, watching him throw his bag in the back before joining her. Shifting the jeep into gear, she drove them back towards the barracks. “Over there that’s the mess hall and my barrack is just to the left of it.  Straight ahead is the barrack you’ll be in.” 

Pulling the jeep to a stop, she grinned seeing Rosie and Crosby standing outside, eyeing her curiously. “Boys!” 

“Addie.” They both called back, watching her hop out of the jeep and walk closer to them. “What brings you to our humble abode?” 

“Boys, this is my older brother Charlie.” She grinned, looking over her shoulder at her brother. “Charlie, this is Robert Rosenthal, or Rosie and Harry Crosby. Rosie is a pilot and Crosby is group navigator on base. They’re also bunking here and can show you where everything is.” 

The three of them exchanged handshakes in greeting as she grinned at the scene. “Josie mentioned there was a group of new pilots arriving today.” 

“Yeah there were. I didn’t count how many arrived today but Charlie will be an instructor on base - not going up.” She grinned brightly at them, happy to have a piece of her family back on base. 

Crosby whistled. “That’s great. Welcome to Thorpes, Charlie. I know this one is tampering her excitement down for the sake of looking cool.” 

Slugging Crosby, Addie gave him a look. “Thanks for that Croz.” 

“Just let us know if you want to know anything that’s happened over the last year since you’ve been gone, Charlie.” Crosby gave her brother a smirk. 

Addie muttered a cuss under her breath. “Jeez, and to think I thought our friendship meant something. Willing to spill all my secrets as soon as my big brother arrives on base. Just remember Croz, I know where you sleep, and I know a few secrets of your own.” 

“Damn, I forgot how scary you can be.” Rosie commented, looking between his two friends. “I’d watch what you say Croz.” 

Charlie laughed. “Ahh she’s all talk with very little bite. Addie has always been that way.” 

Addie looked between the three, shaking her head. She chuckled watching Crosby’s eyes go wide. “What’s wrong Crosby?” 

“Just remembered what you did to Douglass to scare him after he slipped that supply request in your pile.” Crosby shook his head, while Addie threw her head back and laughed. 

“Ahh, I forgot all about that.” She grinned. “That was my best revenge yet. That was legendary and kept the base on their toes for a few weeks.” 

Charlie chuckled. “Is that where you dropped a box of rubbers and twinkies along with some feminine products?” 

“Ahh so the boys already told you that story when they were in Africa, huh?” Addie smirked, shaking her head before looking between Rosie and Crosby. “Boys, can you show him an empty bunk? I’ll wait out here and we can head over to the mess together.” Rosie nodded, heading towards the barrack door with Charlie trailing behind him. 

Leaning against the jeep, Addie smiled to herself. Things were finally turning around and for the first time since Bucky and Buck went down, she started to feel the hope creep back in. 

December 25, 1943, 0900 hours

Groaning, she cracked open her eyes, seeing the bright light creep through the shades. Rolling over, she squinted, eyes wide when she realized it was 9am and she had slept in.  Sighing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, seeing the barrack was quiet, everyone up already and out of the hut. 

Reaching over, she ran her hand through Meatball’s fur. “Merry Christmas, Meatball.” He groaned, rolling over onto his back so she could scratch his belly. She obliged him, both hands scratching as he hummed and groaned in happiness. 

Swinging her legs off the bed, she looked at the locker that sat between hers and Josie’s bed. She hadn’t opened it since it was deposited there back in October. Easing off the bed, she sat in front of it, leaning forward to unlock it, pushing the top open. A thin layer of dust had settled over everything. 

Reaching in, she moved his extra clothes to the side, seeing a stack of letters at the very bottom of the locker. Picking them up, she noticed most of them were addressed from Wisconsin, letters from his family. But at the very bottom was an envelope in his handwriting, with her name on it. 

Without hesitation, she ran her finger under the flap, pulling out the piece of paper. She realized it was dated back in May 1943, right around the time she had first met him. 

My dearest Addie, 

I feel pretty stupid writing you this letter but I need to get this off my chest. You’ve been on my mind all day, might have gotten into trouble during the briefing due to my thoughts being on you instead of the observation mission. Might be just a tad sorry about that but not really, don’t tell Huglin. 

It’s amazing that I’ve only known you for two weeks, yet I feel like I’ve known you all my life. And I don’t want you to stop being in my life. Never thought I’d come over to England and meet a girl that I want in my life for the rest of my life.

I probably will never give you this letter so I feel pretty comfortable writing this down - I think I’m in love with you. Yes, it’s only been two weeks but you’ve already knocked me on my ass and kept me on my toes at the same time. I’ve never met a girl like you before and I think that’s a good thing. Definitely cannot stop thinking about you, which could be a good or bad thing depending on the day. Also, you’re the first person (outside of Buck) that I want to rush to tell everything to. 

Should probably wrap this up. Maybe I’ll give you this on our wedding day (if we make it that far). 

Love you but not telling you quite yet. 

John

Tears streamed down her face as she finished reading the letter. She knew he fell much sooner than she did but it was good to read his thoughts.  Sighing, she leaned against her bed frame, letting her head fall back onto her bed. Meatball crawled over to her, his tongue licking away the tears that had fallen. Reaching behind her, she carted her fingers through his fur, patting his side in appreciation for being there for her. 

Folding up the letter, she stuffed it back into the envelope, placing it back in the locker.  Sighing, she shut the top of the locker, clicking the latches on it. 

Pushing herself off the floor, she quickly got dressed, slipping on Bucky’s jacket before lacing up her shoes. Patting her leg for Meatball’s attention, she walked down the aisle of the hut, pushing open the door, allowing the dog to go out ahead of her. Shivering, she watched Meatball do his business before quickly walking over to the mess hut. Pulling open the door, she smiled at the warmth that wrapped around her as she searched the area for her friends and Charlie. 

Making her way down the aisle, she stopped at a table that was in the middle of the hut. Charlie, Rosie, Crosby, Blakely, and Josie all sat around the table, each with a plate of food and a cup of coffee in front of them. Taking a seat in a chair, she greeted everyone with a cheerful “Merry Christmas.” 

“About time you join us Addie.” 

Sticking her tongue out at her older brother, Addie smirked. “I decided to sleep in this morning. Got the best Christmas present I could have asked for.” 

“And what’s that?” Josie raised an eyebrow at the cheerful tone in Addie’s voice. Josie grinned brightly, seeing a glimpse of her best friend that she hadn’t seen in over 2 months. 

Thanking the waiter for the cup of coffee, she smiled at the table. “Found a letter that Bucky had written me back in May. It was really sweet and made my day.” 

“Back in May?” Josie looked at her friend. “That was before you two started dating, right?” 

Picking up her coffee, she took a deep sip, nodding, smirking. “Yeah that was right after he arrived here on base. I still thought he was an arrogant flyboy - amazing how that has all changed.”  

December 25, 1943 

Dear John, 

Merry Christmas, fly boy. Wish you were here instead of the stalag but I’ll take the fact you’re still alive as a Christmas miracle. 

It was a pretty low key day today. Charlie, Josie, Crosby, Rosie, Blakely, Douglass and I hung out throughout the day and exchanged presents with one another. It was good not to be alone on an already tough day. 

I’m going to admit something - I found a letter you wrote me back in May at the bottom of your locker and read it. It made my day and made me smile. It was the perfect unintentional Christmas present I could have asked for. I’m still holding out on walking down an aisle in a white dress towards you, Egan. Don’t let me down. 

My Christmas wish for you is that you’re warm and safe and happy. Hopefully you and the boys found a bit of joy. 

Love you with all my heart. 

Addie. 

Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Anything you want to see in the upcoming chapters? I've got a loose outline planned so if there's something you want to see, just let me know! Also, sorry, there wasn't any Bucky or Buck in this chapter, but Addie needed a chapter of angst and hurt. Both Bucky and Buck will be back in next chapter.

Chapter 14

[boinin]

If you're still taking the otp questions, could I request 6, 7, 19 and 29 for tabiori? Thank you!

Hey anon! I've really softened towards these two with the new Karasu lore that EpiNagi gifted us. Childhood friends to imprisoned football rivals to lovers, let's gooooo

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Hiori likes that Karasu has an opinion on everything. Sometimes it takes coaxing to get him to take a stance, if he doesn't feel like he's had enough input data or time to mull it over, but Karasu is no fence sitter: he's always clear about his values and what he thinks, which Hiori admires as a perpetual people pleaser. Hiori also loves his searching dark eyes.

Karasu finds Hiori physically attractive, but it's that sadistic edge to his bf's personality that has Karasu down bad. He likes someone with bite, who won't take his snark without retaliation. But Hiori's genuine kindness also allows Karasu to unwind in his presence. It's exhausting putting on a mask every day, and Hiori is the only person Karasu trusts to see the real him. Without his usual defences.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

In comparison to what I've said for Karasu before, I don't think he'd get more defensive after realising he has feelings for Hiori. Their friendship started on the basis of mutual admiration, and Karasu's crush is an evolution of that. That said, he has no plans to admit to his feelings, ever.

Hiori feels lame about his own crush, thinking he's naïve for crushing on his senpai. He'd still happily chat and hang out with Karasu, but becomes more prone to awkward silence around him. After getting dating advice off his internet friends, he'll watch Karasu for signs that he's interested in being more than friends. Hiori would eventually make a move, and the rest is history.

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Oof, I'll start with the less sad family dynamic. Karasu cultivates an air of mystery around himself. No one knows for sure when he's bullshitting or being serious, even his mom. When he signs off a phonecall by saying, got a hot boy waitin' fer me, she writes it off as her son's sarcasm. It keeps being his excuse though, and eventually she realises he's serious. She's surprised that Karasu's dating the quiet polite boy from his football team, but supportive of he and Hiori.

Hiori's parents are in frequent contact with him, but only ever ask about his training, diet and sleep—not to mention his performance in whatever league he's playing in. They find out he's in a relationship when he lets it slip in an interview. They scold him for not focussing 100% on his career. He starts ignoring their calls.

Yukimiya and Otoya manage to suss out Karasu's feelings before he and Hiori get together, and tease him for it until the good news breaks. The four hang out together often. Hiori doesn't publicise the relationship, but talks to his closer friends and teammates about Karasu, like Isagi, Nanase and Kurona.

The two of them quickly get fed up of people insinuating that they're a cute couple just because they're both from Kansai.

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

Both of them look up to one another, but it's partly as a means of quantifying their own inadequacies. Karasu will never be as athletically gifted as Hiori. Hiori will never have Karasu's unfazed attitude or the same determination to pursue his dreams.

Neither of them will fully understand the level of emptiness the other used to hide behind the polite smiles or sarcastic remarks.

[ferrarihamilton]

Begging on my knees for a snippet of frat yukierre 🧎🏼‍♀️

I REALLY THOUGHT I HAD CRACKED MY WRITERS BLOCK WITH THIS ONE. alas. here's almost 2k that hopefully i will finish one day, inspired by yuki's outfit back in miami:

Pierre does make a pros/cons spreadsheet when he’s keeping track of all his bids, and he talks to his parents and his older brothers but at the end of the day he picks his frat mostly based on which one played the least shit music during rush, which lands him in SigEp. It’s a good choice: the house is newly renovated with a pool, and they don’t make him do anything too awful or offensively American for pledge, thank fuck.

But most importantly, SigEp is on good terms with most of the sorority houses. This means every weekend Pierre gets to flirt with a pretty girl over beer pong and drink Rolling Rocks instead of Coors.

Their last mixer before finals is with ADPi, which he’s glad for: the ADPi girls are hot but not crazy, and the other frat there is SigNu, who are always a good mix of chill and rowdy. He does the rounds before things get too wild, dialing his smile up a notch when he says hello to the girls he already knows, leaning on his vowels as he lets himself get introduced to a gaggle of littles in identical neon bandeaus.

“Are you French?” one of them asks, eyes wide.

“Oui,” he says, patiently, and smirks as they all giggle again. Amy and Laura, behind them, simultaneously roll their eyes, and Pierre winks at them. He’s hooked up with both of them before— together and separately, and he wouldn’t be opposed to a repeat, but the night is still young. He’s in no hurry.

He’s finishing his third beer and flirting with a girl from his stats class when Charles— who isn’t even in Greek life, and somehow gets invited to most mixers all the same— appears next to him.

“Pierre, mate,” she says, in a tone that never means any good. The other girl makes herself scarce almost immediately, because Charles has a reputation for being sweet until she’s not. Pierre suppresses a sigh and turns to her.

“Hello Charles,” Pierre says drily. “Yes, I am good, thank you for asking. How are you?”

Charles flashes him a crinkly smile, either oblivious or uncaring of his sarcasm. “Have you met Yuki?” she asks in French.

“Who?”

Charles points over her shoulder at a guy on the other side of the room. He’s wearing a bright pink shirt in a shiny fabric, with matching shorts. “Yuki, he’s from Japan. He is a mech-E major.”

Pierre raises his eyebrows. He’s known Charles his entire life, and she’s never meddled with his hook ups before. “I think you are supposed to show me a girl, no? You will get in trouble with the ADPi board.” He still looks though, because why wouldn’t he. The guy’s back is turned to them, talking to some people around the beer pong sign-ups. “He’s not my type.”

Charles just grins and starts shouldering her way through the crowd. Pierre shakes his head, feeling a smile pull at his mouth, and grabs another beer before following her.

“Yuki!” Charles calls when they get close.

Yuki turns around, breaking into a smile when he catches sight of Charles. It’s a nice smile. He’s short— shorter than most of the girls here, even, with round, soft features and broad shoulders. He’s wearing a pink snapback backwards, and his shirt is unbuttoned all the way.

Pierre knows he’s staring. Next to him, he can feel Charles’ smugness radiating off of her.

“Hey Charles,” Yuki says, holding his fist out for a fistbump. Once Charles has knocked their knuckles together, he turns to Pierre, looking up through his eyelashes at expectantly. “I’m Yuki,” he says. His lower lip is pinker than the top one, like he’s been biting it. On a girl, Pierre would call his expression coy.

“Pierre.” Pierre’s mouth is dry. He can’t stop looking at the line of Yuki’s tummy where his shirt is open. He wonders if he slipped a hand there, if Yuki’s waist would feel as solid as it looks.

“I know,” Yuki says. “I was in Intro to Civil last year.”

Pierre had TA’d that class last year, a freshman paper. Which makes Yuki a sophomore. “But you’re a mech major?”

Yuki shrugs, his grin widening. “Guess you were a shit TA.”

Pierre surprises himself by laughing. Charles, who had stepped around Yuki to peer at the beer pong board, gives Pierre a shit-eating smile of delight and two thumbs up, before disappearing into the crowd.

Yuki’s beaming up at him now. It makes Pierre feel powerful, confident; he puts on his best smile and angles his body so he’s leaning against the wall, facing Yuki. “You’re with Sigma Nu?”

Yuki looks him up and down. His smile falls into something more private, and Pierre’s about to straighten up, thinking he read the situation wrong, when Yuki deadpans, “No, I’m with ADPi.”

Pierre relaxes, laughs again. “I mean,” he drawls. “You’re the right height.”

“Hey, oi!” Yuki shoves at his shoulder. He’s laughing too. Pierre’s already leaning against the wall, so the movement does nothing but bring Yuki closer to him. His hands feel sure, strong. He’s the perfect size to fit against Pierre’s side, under his arm.

He takes a sip of his drink, smirking. “And what are you wearing, all this pink and purple? Definitely a sorority girl.”

“I’m on theme.” Yuki waves at the rest of the room, decorated with LED lights and projections of city skylines for the vaporwave theme, whatever the fuck that means. “Unlike you. Lazy. Every other frat boy here is wearing a white graphic t-shirt too.”

“You live in a frat too,” Pierre points out. It’s hard to forget, with the way he looks: open shirt, shorts string untied at the hips, snapback and sunglasses and delicate chain on his collarbones.

"A better one," Yuki says, grinning.

“No way, your house is old as fuck. And we’ve got a pool.”

“Not all of us need a pool to get people wet,” Yuki says, straight-faced, and Pierre squawks, startled, before laughing so hard he’s basically crying. When he wipes his eyes, Yuki is watching him, the apples of his cheeks dimpled with how wide he’s smiling.

He ducks his head when Pierre catches him, picking up his drink again, and asks, “You’re from France?”

The change of subject is so cute that Pierre gives in, and slides an inch closer to Yuki so their arms are touching. He can feel the muscles in Yuki’s bicep jump, briefly, before he’s pressing back, warm and sweaty. “What gave it away?”

“Charles told me.”

“Ohhhh,” Pierre makes an exaggerated sound. “You were talking about me, were you?”

Yuki rolls his eyes. They're crowded close together in the packed room, though they still have to raise their voices to speak. Yuki's smirking a bit at him. From this angle, he has to tilt his chin almost all the way up to look at Pierre.

“Want to play beer pong?” Pierre asks. He feels hot under is collar, clammy at his armpits.

“Fuck yes,” Yuki says. It’s hard to tell under the dimmed lights, but it looks like he’s blushing, and he’d stumbled just a teeny bit before replying. Pierre puts his hand on his lower back, steers him to the end of the beer pong table.

They win, easily. The girls on the other side of the table pout, which Pierre is definitely going to get a word about from his chapter president in the morning: the unspoken rule is to let the girls sink some cups in, break the ice for conversation later, but Pierre is having too much fun listening to Yuki’s cheers every time he makes a shot, feeling his body next to his, sweaty in the packed room. When he sinks his third cup in a row, he wraps an arm around Yuki’s waist without thinking, lifts him up. His side is warm, and Yuki turns his face into his neck for a moment when he puts him down. Pierre can feel him grinning against his shoulder.

“Bravo, bravo.”

“We make a good team,” Pierre says.

“We?” Yuki shoots back. “I sunk more cups than you.”

“One more cup than me.”

“One more is still more. Better start practicing.” Yuki touches his wrist, easily, with warm fingers. Pierre has to lean down to hear him, which puts him right in line with the shock of his neon cap. He steals it, puts it backwards on himself.

“How do I look?”

“Like a frat boy,” Yuki says. He’s teasing, but he’s also fixing Pierre with the growing smile of someone who starting to realise they’re going to get laid tonight, so Pierre doesn’t mind much. He can feel a matching smile on his own face.

“Want another drink?”

Yuki gives him a once over, so deliberate. “Not really.”

It’s still pretty early. If Pierre was doing this, he’d draw it out a little, maybe talk to someone else for a bit, circle back around to Yuki when it got closer to midnight.

“SigNu house is a bit far from here,” he says.

“It’s like, 15 minutes.”

Pierre grins. “SigEp is 10.”

Yuki rolls his eyes. “Let me get a drink. Then we can go.”

“Thought you didn’t want another drink.”

“I realised I need another one to deal with you.”

Pierre grins again. He can’t stop; he feels a bit giddy. “I can get them. Meet you outside in five."

When they meet out the front, he says, “Here," innocently, and hands Yuki the White Claw he’d nicked from Amy’s secret stash.

Yuki rolls his eyes, but still says, “Thanks,” and cracks it open to chug immediately. He gets halfway before making a face.

“Don’t like it?”

“American alcohol sucks.” He eyes the fresh Coors in Pierre’s hand. “Do you actually like that?”

Pierre does have some taste, so of course he doesn’t. “We’re in the land of the free,” he says. “Need to get the full experience.”

Yuki snorts. It's unbearably cute.

“I do miss wine though,” Pierre says.

“Mmm,” Yuki says. “Have you been to the Connection? They have a good selection, for pretty cheap too.” “You’ll have to take me,” Pierre says.

Yuki raises an eyebrow, like it’s a challenge. “Okay.”

He’s still at the top of the porch, much too far away for Pierre’s liking. He’s taller than Pierre, now that Pierre’s standing two steps down.

“You’re cute,” Pierre says.

“You wear too much cologne.”

“Bro." Pierre sniffs his collar. "No I don’t.”

“You don’t,” Yuki says, smirking. “But you were worried for a second.”

Pierre can’t remember the last time he genuinely laughed this much at a mixer. He shoves Yuki a little, then has to lean forward to reel him back in when it looks like Yuki might lose his balance.

“That was so your fault,” Yuki accuses.

“You didn’t spill your drink,” Pierre says instead of denying it. They're very close now, enough that Pierre can smell the sugar of White Claw on Yuki's breath. Pierre’s still got his hands on his hip and shoulder from steadying him; his body is just as solid as Pierre thought it would be.

“I have priorities,” Yuki says, and there’s a beat of pause, and then Yuki’s leaning down and slotting their lips together, still smiling as he kisses him. Pierre shifts, tightening his grip as he kisses back, pulling Yuki down and straining up. He licks Yuki’s lower lip and catches it against his teeth.

When they pull apart, Pierre tries to dive back in immediately. Yuki steps away, still smiling. “Let’s go,” he says.  

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Feels So Nice (Smile like you’re hiding something)

TW: cursing, mention of fake blood, halloween decorations

this is a halloween fic im very aware it’s april

“this place looks pretty haunted.”

you peak at your side and see your little sister, dressed in an old bedsheet with crooked eyes for a ghost.

you pull the sheet back, constantly falling in her face, before you adjust it, crouching onto the hard cement.

the holes in your jeans are met with the wet cement and you’re thinking how you have to wear these stupid jeans to work tomorrow but your sister insisted you dressed up and how could you say no to those eyes?

“Cass,” You say gently, “i’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

she looks unconvinced, biting her lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other to see over your head, where the thing that’s stressing her out stands in the mouth of their garage, handing out candy.

even a few houses down you can hear the ominous music that plays loudly from a hidden speaker some sort of circus music that cuts off every few minutes with a maniacal laugh and a chainsaw revving up.

the homeowner also changed every light on their front yard to a dark blood red floodlight, fog pours out of the garage and floats around the edge of the grass inviting you to come in, to take your chances, to see what happens.

“Honey,” you bring her back quietly, “we don’t have to go. We can go to the Anderson’s-“

Cassie huffs, “No that house is for babies!”

you hold in the sigh that’s threatening to escape from your lips, instead: “That use to be your favorite house.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes through the sheet, “when i was seven. i’m older now-i’m not a baby.”

you swallow down the part of you that wants to remind her that she slept in your twin size bed last night because she thought she heard a noise and her head immediately went to a ghost.

“let’s go.”

she takes a step before freezing, offering her hand:

“i can hold your hand,” she says instead, “if you’re scared.”

finally, there’s the kid sister of yours you remember.

“Good,” you say and your voice is only slightly dripping with sarcasm, “I was scared.”

it’s a short walk to the house in question, but the winding driveway makes it seem bigger. thr wrap around porch doesn’t help instead.

as you get closer, you see him.

you know of him, of course. fucking everyone does-

he’s a small town hero (or menace, depending on who you ask) talked about in low whispers when you pay your overdue water bill at town hall with a. check that bounces only 40% of the time.

cindy, the clerk, will take the check, typing on the computer slowly as she gives you the tea. you’ve never been infested in the meetings, but you can hear the noise form inside even if the doors are shut.

“that’s hasan,” cindy will roll her eyes. “he hates this town.” shell slide the receipt back to you, “think half his fun is raising hell at board meetings though.”

He sits in a rocking chair, slowly slowly slowly rocking back and forth, a large box of kind sized candy bars on his lap, a smirk on his face. he wears large rimmed glasses and he’s smiling as you approach, using his knuckles to push his glasses up his face.

as you get closer, cass slides next to your body, making you run into her with every step. by the time you get to the porch, ready for the magic sentence, she’s fully behind your leg.

“Sorry-“ you apologize and you aren’t sure why you’re apologizing, it just seems like you should be

instead of seeming irritated, or rolling his eyes at you, or talking about the line that will eventually form now that news is getting out about the full size candy he instead sets the bowl on the ground, slides off the chair and crouches on the floor, as if trying to make himself smaller.

“My names Hasan,” he says gently, “what’s your name?”

right on cue the chainsaws rev up and he rolls his eyes, fumbles for his phone and pauses the music, holds his hands up like it’s a magic trick:

“Sorry. see,” he says gently, “it’s just music.”

her head pops out from behind your leg but her tiny fingernails dig into your legs and you know she isn’t full convinced.

her eyes are full on him and it’s like he suddenly remembers the wife beater he wears, the fake blood that covers his shirt and even his glasses-

he takes his glasses off, the world is blurry:

“This is fake too,” he says gently, “feel it. It’s sticky. it’s corn syrup.”

you’re about to insist he doesn’t have to do all this, when she hesitantly pops out from your leg, her hand going towards his glasses

he giggles as she swiped her finger on the lens:

“see,” he laughs, “it’ll dye your finger red. it’s all fake.”

he takes some and swipes it on her face, some that was revealed from the sheet falling again and suddenly she’s laughing.

“thatta girl,” he coos, “here.”

he turns around and hands her the box that she gasps at and slowly picks at.

his eyes pop to you and his face is pink, even with the lights on and the fake blood you can see he’s embarrassed

“sorry uh,” he scratches the back of his head as if he’s embarrassed now. standing at his full height, he towers over you and seeing him being embarrassed makes you smile harder, “didn’t think uh-the blood was that good.”

you snort, “for an eight year old? terrifying.”

he laughs back, “Yeah. i guess i didn’t account for kids.”

“halloween and kids,” you tease, “who would’ve thought?”

he laughs, but it’s small and he stares at his feet,

“sorry for uh-“ he shrugs, “all of that. Can i try again?”

you’re confused, but nod and his hand pops out in front of him, “It’s nice to meet you, my names Hasan. I’m your neighbor.”

cassie comes back into your side, a bag of m&ms in her fist.

you laugh, offer your hand and name back: “it’s nice to meet you, finally. you’re well known around here.”

he grips the metal bowl of candy, “hope it’s good.”

and he seems genuinely worried that you heard bad about him, heard the reputation, heard to stay away.

you don’t know this, you don’t know the parts that sit in the cul de sac with the engine running, his voice low and cracks as he reveals all about him, the fucked up parts too

“depends who you ask.”

and you think it’s a good enough answer, think it’s mysterious enough, but he seems worried by the answer.

“lemme make it up to you?” he says gently, “for scaring your kid. i owe you, right?”

“hasan,” you laugh as kids are giggling and running up behind you, “it’s halloween-“

“give me one try.”

you stare at him, the fake blood that drops, how he makes himself smaller, tried to make it less scary for her-

“okay,” you say gently, “okay. yeah. one chance.”

a smile spreads on his lips, “you won’t regret it.”

cassie pulls at your hand, and a new group of kids pile around hasan and you’re saying your goodbyes-

it isn’t until your three houses down that you realize you don’t have his number.

[elvenxwarrior]

Play Time - Asmodeus

Masterlist

You can also find this posted on my AO3!

CONTENT WARNING: Kinda spicy uwu MINORS DNI.

You and Asmodeus had jealousy for each-other that could almost put Leviathan to shame... Not that you two would know it. The jealousy was silent and seething; everyone except the pair of you could see that.

Whenever Asmodeus would come back with his usual witch/es for a brief fling, your blood would boil, something about this drove you mad. You knew exactly why though, you were in love with the lustful demon.

However, there are two sides to a coin. When you would spend time with his brothers, he felt strange in his heart and would have a strong desire to drag you away from them.

Asmodeus decided to turn this into a game... "How Long Does It Take [Name] To Lose It?"

He knew you'd be wandering out and about today with Lucifer doing pointless errands, so he decided to 'follow'. You and Lucifer were stood talking about the errands that needed to be done; you offered to go and do some by yourself if it meant getting it done quicker which Lucifer greatly appreciated your suggestion and reminded you to be safe.

On your journey, you saw the flirtatious brother with a young woman. She had very similar features to you; her hair colour was very close, maybe a bit longer too?

'Why is he talking to her? Another fling probably...' you thought to yourself. 'But... she looks so much like me...!'

"Well, my dear it was lovely to see you again! Ciao~" His voice rang out, before he spotted you with an amused smile. "Ah, [Name]!"

You heavily sighed, clutching your bag closer to you as you glanced through a store window, "Yes, Asmo?"

"You were just the person I was looking for, I-"

"Was I? You seemed quite happy talking to my doppelgänger just now..." You smirked, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Asmo playfully frowned, folding his arms, "Oh? Feeling a bit jealous are we~?"

You suddenly felt your face flush and you stuttered over your words, "I'm not-, how could you say-, why would you-"

Somewhere amongst your talk you and Asmodeus had ended up in a dimly lit alley - it was illuminated by small blue lanterns and was surprisingly clean. He suddenly, yet gently had you against the wall.

"Well, it seems to me... [Name]~"

The way he emphasised your name sent a shiver through you, "That you want little ol' me aaaalllll to yourself...~"

You nodded in response, worried your words would still be tangled in your throat. "How greedy... [Name]...~ How many more of my brothers do you wish to put to shame all because of me? Too proud like Lucifer to admit you want me? Hm~?"

"Asmo..." His name barely made a sound out of you, almost like a needy whine. Your arms went around his neck, tangling in his hair and pulling him to you.

Your lips politely collided as the demon before you pulled one of your legs around his waist, both of you humming a small moan into your passionate interaction. He gripped your other leg, making you push yourself off the floor to wrap both legs around him.

Asmodeus smirked, pressing his crotch against yours and gripping your waist affectionately and began to kiss and bite down your neck. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, [Name]..."

"M-Me too, Ah~! Asmo~!"

His hands began travelling up to your chest, before being interrupted. "[Name]? Where has that confounded human gotten to now…?"

Asmodeus gently let you down, and adjusted your clothes and hair to be more presentable, "Let us continue this back at home~"

You breathlessly nodded, turning to go and meet Lucifer.

"Thanks for playing this game with me, [Name]. Now," He smacked your butt, "Go!"

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 17: Brambles

10/17: Brambles

Universe // Characters: Den of Thieves - IT Reader // Benny “Borracho” Magalon x IT Reader 

Rating: Explicit 

Benjamin “Borracho” Magalon is sharp. His slicked back hair, hawkish nose, goatee, tattoos. His eyes are sharp, attuned to pick out details around him, forget big picture bullshit. His words are sharp, when he decides to use them. When asked for information on a crime scene, he’s quick and concise with the facts. When asked a question by the brass, his answers are mostly one word. When getting busted on by the guys, his retorts are quick flicks of sarcasm and low blows.  

Everything about him is honed like a razor’s edge, safe if you rub your thumb over it one way but incredibly damaging if you don’t. He likes being this way. When you’re sharp, people are cautious of you, keeping you at arms length to keep themselves from being cut and hurt. Even the guys in Major Crimes handle him cautiously in the bullpen but not when they’re all out in the field. They use him like a knife: sheathed until needed then wielded with abandon. 

You apparently have missed the memo completely. 

He hears noise coming from the server room and goes to investigate because it’s a slow day and he’s tired of listening to guys share their conquest of the flavor of the week stories. As he gets closer, he hears a variety of beeps and then a muttered “fuck.” Peering into the room, he sees you sitting on the floor, a laptop balanced on one knee and a handheld device in your hand scanning for something. 

“Did you try turning it off and on again?” he quips. 

But then karma knocks him on his ass swiftly. You turn your head surprised at his sudden appearance, and you’ve got a small flashlight in your mouth. Your lips are wrapped around the cylinder and your cheeks hollow when you spit it out and drop it on the floor. All his blood rushes southward at the sight and the innocent, wide-eyed look you give him isn’t helping matters either. 

“Can I help you?” 

He glances around looking for the guys or video cameras. Surely he’s getting pranked. Or else he just walked on the set of a very poorly funded porno. This actually has Big Nick written all over it, he’s sure of it. Well, if he’s having a joke played on him, he’s going to take it as far as he can. 

“Maybe. I’m a little bigger than that flashlight though.” 

It takes you a minute to understand the innuendo but when you do, you roll your eyes. “Disgusting.” 

The realization that this isn’t a prank hits him like a cold bucket of water. Before he can apologize, you slam the door shut in his face before going back to your work. He shoves his hands in his pockets and heads back to the bullpen, trying to shrug the nagging feeling of guilt. 

He’s sharp and you got nicked. But there was sharpness to you and he got nicked as well.  Now you both know better for next time. 

***

“Internet is down.” 

“Again?” 

“Z, call IT.” 

“I ain’t calling down there again.” 

Henderson laughs. “Oh that’s right, that little girl boxed your ears last week.” 

Borracho lifts his head up and glances around at the guys. “What happened last week?” 

“Z tried to ask that cute little IT girl out on a date last week,” Henderson is overcome with laughter for a couple beats. “And what did she say to you, man? ‘Not if you were dipped in-” 

Tony Zappata is not used to being turned down by women and this is evident by the glare he’s giving Henderson. “I actually offered her a bite of my sub and she said no.” 

“Actually,” Connors chimes in, “She said ‘not if you skipped it to me across a pool of antiseptic.’” 

Seems like Borracho isn’t the only sharp one. He picks up the phone and calls down to the IT department. 

“Dan in IT.” 

“Magalon in Major Crimes. Internet is down up here.” 

He sighs. “I’ll send MIT back up.” 

Back up. It might be you so he heads over to the server room and sure enough, you turn the corner with your laptop and bag of equipment. You have white headphones wrapped around your neck with some kind of podcast playing through the speakers. You tap one side of the headphones and the talking stops. You glare at him as you approach the server room so Borracho holds up his hands. 

“I’m sorry about last time.” 

“Really?” 

“I thought the guys were setting me up. Playing a prank.” 

You open the door and prop it open. “What made you think that?” 

“Because you’re too cute to be a computer nerd.” 

You’re back to glaring at him but Borracho stands by what he said and holds your stare. You eventually sigh in defeat and turn towards the servers. 

“Why do they call you MIT?” 

You give him an incredulous look. “Because I graduated from MIT.” 

“Wow. That’s impressive.” 

You glance over your shoulder before opening your laptop and pulling up a diagnostic program. “So which one of the Major Crimes guys are you?” 

“Borracho.” 

“The drunk?” 

“You know Spanish?” 

“Born and raised in LA, yeah, I know Spanish.” You hit a couple of buttons. “I’m not going to call you a drunk, so what’s your real name?” 

He’s sharp but so are you. Iron sharpens iron. “Benny.” 

You reach behind one of the server boxes and snap a wire back into place. “There we go. Loose cable. Internet is back on for you guys.” 

He watches you close your laptop and stand up, dusting off your jeans. “So what’s your name.” 

You smile at him. “MIT works for now.” 

***

Borracho stops by the server room a couple days later and unplugs the cord that you had fixed. He goes to the bullpen but hears Henderson calling down to IT, apparently giving whoever is on the other end of the line some grief. Borracho turns on his heel and goes back to the server room. He’s propping open the door when you come around the corner. 

“Again, Benny?” 

He shrugs. “Looks that way. Was thinking I was going to try to fix it.” 

“Oh, you have a degree from MIT now?” 

“Yeah, course I do.” He grins and points to his neck. “That’s where I got this tat.” 

You laugh, a genuine soft sound, before going into the room. He has to remind himself that he’s sharp and needs to be careful with you. He’s not sure when it happened, but he likes you. You’re pretty, sweet, and smart. You’re sharp but only when you need to be. Genuinely, you’re soft. And his palms itch to find out just how soft you really are. He wants to kiss you, feel your perfect mouth against his. He wants to feel how you would fit in his arms, underneath him, staring down at him. 

But he doesn’t want to hurt you, get you caught in the brambles of who he is. You’ll only emerge with cuts and scrapes that will heal but will leave you scarred. He’s sharp and he doesn't want to leave his mark on you. 

“Benny?” 

He snaps out of his thoughts just in time to see your toe catch on your equipment bag and send you stumbling towards him. He instinctively reaches out and catches you as you crash against his chest. Details start gathering in his brain: the nervous flex of your fingers in his flannel shirt, the wild beating of your pulse in your neck, the nervous huff of a laugh that leaves your lips. Oh God, your lips. 

You’re going to hate him, hit him and never come back up to the server room but he can’t help it. He kisses you and knowing this is the only time he’s going to have with you, he holds nothing back. He kisses your top lip, scrapes his teeth against your bottom one, and even risks sweeping your mouth with his tongue. 

He feels you moan more than hears it, a vibration in your ribcage that his hands are holding. Your hands hold either side of his face and press him even closer to you. He feels your tongue slide against his and all his senses short out momentarily. Is this happening? Are you really kissing him back? Are you okay with this? 

A door slams down the hall and you both jump back away from each other. You end up staring at each for half a heartbeat before you grab your bag and laptop and dart out of the room. He stands there for another moment before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“Fuck!” 

***

Three days pass and Borracho can’t stop thinking of that kiss. He can still feel you under his hands, against his mouth. The guys are starting to notice he’s more surly than ever. He needs to get you out of his system. And if he can’t have you, then he’s going to have to find a replacement. Nick always gets more than enough girls for the post piss test party and maybe he’ll take advantage of that tomorrow. The door to the bullpen opens and there you are, eyes roving around the room. He can’t breathe.  

“I figure with all the issues you guys have been having with the internet, I may as well show you how to do basic troubleshooting.” You look around at them. “Who’s the most reliable?” 

Z stands up. “I am.” 

“Sit down, Subway boy,” you snap and your eyes land on Borracho. “You up for the job?” 

He’s sharp and he notices little details. He sees the minute smile that touches the corner of your mouth. You know exactly what you’ve just said and also know that you’re making him walk across the room to get out of the bullpen now that half his blood is on its way to his groin. 

He’s in love with you, he realizes, at that exact minute.  

He throws his pen down on the desk. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” 

You make a hasty retreat towards the server room, your pace picking up the closer you get. He hears you giggle when you swing the door open and stumble through it while he grabs the doorknob and closes it behind him, locking it for good measure. You’re on each other immediately, lips crashing together, hands pulling at clothes. Did he still have a condom in his wallet? Please let there be a condom in his wallet. 

“Wait, wait a minute,” you whisper, pushing him away slightly. 

He tries to refocus, calm down, but he just wants and it’s been so long since he’s felt this way, desperate and…not sharp. Your hands run over his chest, his shoulders, around his back. You smooth your palms over the planes of his body and it doesn’t hurt you. It hurts him though. He feels vulnerable, like you’re the one with the razor blade, getting ready to nick and slice and cause him to bleed. As he stares down at your face, lit with the blinking lights of the servers, your eyes searching his face for what, he has no idea, he realizes he would cut his own throat and bleed out for you if you wished for it. 

But you’re too kind to ever wish that on him. You would sooner turn the blade on yourself than hurt him. He can see the apology you’re trying to muster, to offer for your abrupt departure the last time you were in here together. He knows the kind of person you are because he’s come across so many people that are your opposite. Criminals, party girls, girlfriends, ex-wife…coworkers, you are the antithesis of all of them. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally manage to say. “For running out last time. I…got scared.” 

He lets his hands drift down your arms, feeling the smooth skin against his fingertips. “I get it. I do.” 

“I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships.” 

He tries to not laugh at that. “You don’t have the best track record? I’d like to bet it’s better than mine, mamí. 

Your smile is one of pure relief. “You’re different from the other guys.” 

They’re grenades and he’s a dagger. They explode and cause as much damage as possible, not caring who gets caught in the explosion. He’s for up close and personal damage and does it well. That’s why he has to be more careful with you. 

“You’re kinder than they are.” 

He scoffs at that. “That’s not a word that’s usually used for me.” 

“That’s because people don’t take the time to notice you. Or you don’t let them get close enough.” You press yourself closer to him. “I’d like to get to know you better.” 

“Aren’t there any other boys closer to your age?” He doesn’t really know how old you are but you certainly look significantly younger than he is. 

You wrinkle your nose. “None worth the time getting to know.” 

Good enough for him. He leans down to kiss you again but stops. “How old are you?” 

“Thirty-one.” 

His heart almost stops. He’s forty-six. Fifteen years difference. That was definitely something to address. Later. Maybe this is all you want, a quickie in the server room. If he’s lucky, you’ll want a couple of them before you grow tired of the sullen, middle aged man and move on with a computer programmer who lives in the suburbs and telecommutes to Silicon Valley. 

“Benny?” 

He immediately refocuses back on you. “Yeah?” 

Your hands go back to kneading the soft fabric of his flannel shirt. “Is this…I mean, are you okay…we can-” 

He kisses you as sweetly as he can in the moment. He holds you gently, kisses you softly, and does everything in his power to keep from spinning you around and taking you against one of the single server boxes. He feels your lips curl into a smile against his and suddenly the game is back on for the two of you. 

As sweet as your mouth is, he wants to taste all of you. He breaks away from your lips, and starts nipping and sucking on the column of your throat. Your hands are just as busy as his mouth as you tug his flannel off his shoulders and then pull his t-shirt over his head. You lean back and trail a hand down his chest, a small, deep groan coming from your throat. As if he needed any more encouragement to keep going. 

He pulls your shirt off over your head before filling both his hands with your satin encased breasts. You were gorgeous. All soft skin, everywhere he touched was smooth, firm…young. He stops that train of thought by pulling your bra off and immediately drawing one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the hardening peak while you run your fingers through his hair and bite your lip to keep from making noise. He drops a hand to the button of your jeans and flicks it open, dragging the zipper down. You squirm just enough for him to get his hand inside your panties and his fingers slip easily through your folds. 

“Dios mio, mamí,” he presses his cheek to the swell of your breast, “you’re so wet.” 

You scrape your fingernails through his hair. “All for you. Can’t…can’t stop…” 

He slides a finger inside of you. “What was that?” 

The moan you give is full of sin. “Can’t stop thinking about you. About this.” 

Benny returns to your mouth, kisses you with zero gentleness as he slides a second inside of you. He swallows down your moan as you try to spread your legs further apart. Your hand slips below the waistband of his jeans and firmly runs over his length. You break away from the kiss and smile up at him, eyes almost black with lust. 

“You are a bit bigger than the flashlight.” 

“Fuckin’ tease,” he grumbles as he pulls your jeans and underwear off in one movement. 

You reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet, slipping the black and gold foil packet out and tearing it open. 

“How did you know-” 

You shrug. “You seem like a guy who’s always prepared.” 

He pushes his pants and underwear down just low enough to roll the condom on before pulling you to the end of the server box and lining himself up. “You sure this is okay?” 

You hook one of your legs around his hip and plant your other foot on the floor. “Yes, please.” 

You keep eye contact with him as he pushes forward, easily sliding into you. He rests his forehead against yours as you both take a moment to adjust but the sounds you’re making, the quiet whimpers, almost send him over the edge right there. He either has to move or this is about to be over before it begins. But then you roll your hips and he takes that as his sign to move as well. You’re perfect. Your body fits perfectly against him, his hands molding perfectly to each curve and rise of you. You’re tight, but not uncomfortably so. He moves his head slightly so his lips brush your ear. 

“Feels so good, like you were made for me.” 

You don’t say anything but you shift, canting your hips at a different angle and then biting your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Does that feel good?” He’s murmuring nonsense, anything to stave off his orgasm and let this last for as long as possible. “You like feeling me inside of you?” 

“God, yes. Please,” you gasp and dig your fingernails into the meat of his shoulder blades, “Please don’t stop.” 

He couldn’t stop if he wanted to at this point. “You’re going to come for me, mamí?” 

You bury your face against his neck. 

“Let me feel you come. I want to feel you co-” And he does. He feels you clench down on him, hard, and then your entire body shakes with the force of your orgasm. He presses himself as deep as he can as he spills himself into the condom. In the back of his mind though, he wants to know what it feels like without that barrier, to come inside of you and watch it drip out. Maybe, if this continues to be more than just a once and done thing, you’ll let him. You’ll trust him enough to do that. 

He peppers kisses along your neck before pulling out. Both of you set about cleaning up and getting re-dressed. He ties off the condom and drops it in the trash can in the corner of the room, while you cover it with the tissues you used to clean yourself up. When you’re both dressed and look more or less presentable, you lean forward and kiss him. 

“Thank you.” 

He kisses you back. “Thank you.” 

“We should do this again sometime,” you smile up at him. 

“I think we’re going to have to, considering you didn’t show me anything about troubleshooting the internet.” 

You pick up your bag and laptop. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep coming up here whenever there’s a problem.” 

Oh no. What a shame, he thinks to himself. He watches you unlock the door, give him one last smile, before leaving the room. He gives himself another moment, a chance to enjoy the dwindling lightening feeling under his skin before heading back into the bullpen. 

Benjamin “Borracho” Magalon is sharp, but you, despite your intermittent sharpness, are ultimately soft. He only hopes you’re soft enough to bend when the blade passes over you so you won’t be cut.

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter One, Part Three

I stood slowly. I was stunned. Her lips were painted a blood red. Her black hair framed her face from underneath a black bandanna hair band.

It was her eyes that dropped my jaw. They were the bluest I'd ever seen in my entire life. Galaxies and Supernovas ran around her irises, shining into the world. A quiet glint of mischief played behind the shine.

"Wow." The word was out of my mouth before my brain had finished registering. At least it was quiet enough that only I could hear it.

"It's alright. Stuff happens." Her voice was even attractive. High pitched to an almost squeak. It sounded to me like hearing my favorite song for the first time all over again. I stood, there in shock, holding her books and apple loosely.

"Still. Sorry about that," I stuttered. I shook my head, trying to get my brain working right again. I handed back her books and apple. "I think I owe you a new aapple though."

"It's all good. A little bruised never hurt anything," she smiled and took a bite.

"I'm Chris, by the way." I didn't know if I was supposed to offer my hand to shake or what. It'd been three years since my last ex and I had finally split. The three years after, I had resigned that I needed to be alone. After the hell that was that relationship, it was for my own mind to stay safe.

"Hi Chris. I'm Addison." That smile never left her face. I had to make a choice here. Did I be normal and leave this conversation with someone who was so beautiful? Or did I make a sad attempt?

"Nice to meet you. This might seem kind of odd, but would you like to get a coffee?" I decided to make the sad attempt. My first attempt in over three years. Hell, the first time in three years I'd even been remotely interested in someone. Even if it was just a pretty basic shallow interest.

"Well, I can't right now," she said. I hoped my disappointment didn't show.

"Oh ok. No, that's cool," I said quickly, with the words coming out as a single mash up of them, creating a new word.

"You didn't let me finish," she continued, catching me off guard, "how about after I'm done with classes?"

"Wait. For real?" Now I know she heard it in my voice. I couldn't hide the excitement that was there. I honestly didn't know what to do. As much as I wanted to learn more about her and hang out with her, even just for a cup of coffee, I had already resigned myself to this just being yet another random encounter.

"What? Weren't you serious?" She asked. I could hear the sarcasm in each word. I smiled. She spoke my common language. I was feeling easier around her. Maybe now, I wouldn't stutter and stumble over my sentences. There was something about the way she stood, and the way she spoke that made me feel somewhat, and strangely safe.

"No, no, no. I was serious. As a heart attack. I guess I was just expecting you to turn down the offer."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know. Cause I did just almost run you over, and you don't know me even in the slightest."

"Well, how do you think people meet?" She made a valid point.

"In head on collisions, I guess," my sarcasm couldn't go long without showing up to the party. I was nervous and anxious and when that happened, I found myself either cracking very bad jokes, or diving deeper into sarcasm. A thick layer of cynical sarcasm.

Addison shocked me by laughing. "I mean, that's one way to do it."

"Let me try again then. After your done for the day, would maybe like to grab a coffee or something with me?" I looked at her. Right into those eyes. They were dangerous eyes. The kind of eyes I could lose myself in. And never want to be found.

"I'd like that," she looked away slightly as she answered, brushing a strand of jet-black hair off of her face. I found myself wanting to do it for her, but I'm not that fucking creepy. I may look rude and creepy and strange, but I wasn't. If she could've gotten a glance at the me in my head, I was dancing like I'd just won a million dollars. I was glad she couldn't. I may have gotten a little embarrassed.

[eliotqueliot]

Puzzling It Out

For the May 31 prompt: Free Day! for @duckprintspress May Trope Mayhem

Fandom: The Magicians (TV); Relationship: Eliot Waugh/Quentin Coldwater

Warnings for canon-typical language and grief/regret; the "canonical character death" is Eliot's death in the Mosaic Timeline.

Summary: A story in verse. Eliot’s POV, reflecting on their lives at the Mosaic, as well as what happened in the throne room afterward. Yes, their hearts were broken then—but in the course of these reflections, Eliot realizes a few things. And makes plans. So—there's hope!

Also posted on AO3—link at the end.

Puzzling It Out

Each night I dream of that puzzle—

fruits of the orchard, often our child—

but always that puzzle with you on it.

Crawling the playing board or pacing with me;

standing by, or perched on the ladder,

perusing the journal to compare solutions, or design new ones.

But always you, you, standing there,

frowning or excited for some new possibility,

or on your hands and knees working the tiles,

gazing up at me with mischief from under that fall of long hair.

“We work”—our hearts in harmony, more often than we fight,

but I’ll take both: anything to get a glimpse of you while you’re still mine,

sharing peaches and plums, peaches and plums,

that sweet tang, the juice running down your chin,

all over your fingers—licking it off,

tasting your sweet lips, your tart bite, the witty sarcasm, the fond embrace,

throwing you over my shoulder or lifting you high like an airplane on my long legs.

Your snark, your wit, your kindness.

Your muscles rippling on a hot, shirtless day.

I want to continue that life with nothing but you:

no other place I ever felt at home or happy.

But you were my home, you and our son.

Our whole lives stretched out, and we lived each day fiercely

with love, even through the fights.

And then it all ended: not with my death,

though I’m sorry I grieved you—

but with your decision to start over—

without asking what I wanted.

(To be fair, I was dead and couldn’t answer.)

You arranged for a letter to reach High Queen Margo,

arriving in time, with all the information she needed

to stop our quest from ever happening.

She arrived holding the key it took us a lifetime to earn—

a lifetime of love, of happiness—

our lives together, just us. An adventure

there’s no need to go on, now—

we stopped before the clock, before we ever felt magic again

or tasted each other’s lips a second time,

our first time alone following the threesome.

Everything we know says it never happened:

everything we feel says it did.

Was it a dream? Was it real?

Why did you want to stop us?

Did you want to escape a life of toil? Me?

Did you think that we’d just start over, fresh,

even though I don’t know how to do this?

Even though you erased the one time we had enough time

for me to learn how to work past my fears, to believe it was possible,

to trust that someone could actually love me?

I love you so much that I’m fucking terrified,

and I don’t know how to get there,

how to get home from inside this tangled wood,

never having lived those lives I loved so much,

where I loved you so much (so many times)—

where the certainty of your love

was so much greater than all my fears.

I want so badly to touch your face, but this is the world

in which I have no framework, no certainty,

nothing but my love for you that was never returned,

not for years, not for flirting or threesomes,

not as far as I ever knew.

And my heart stutters trying to speak—

Even though all I want to do is go home—

home to you, to our peaceful lives of purpose, our child,

the beauty of all life

(it’s you, you, you)—

But I never can, because home doesn’t exist,

not anymore. Because I said “I love you, but.”

And you said, “Okay.”

And Okay, I’d give anything to take back what else I said,

all those lies and excuses, just me running away—

but I’ll be honest. I was happy. We were happy.

We loved each other. We lived good, beautiful lives.

And I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to die.

But I died loving you. Watching you, awed by your beauty even then,

even though you didn’t know it. I died knowing I was loved.

That we’d made it. I’d beat the odds. Lived a good life. Been a good dad.

Husband to the most wonderful man in the world. In any world.

A task so hard it seemed impossible in our lives before.

I never could have done it without you. Without that quest.

Our lives dedicated to endless combinations of art.

Focusing on something else

so I could pretend not to notice love sneaking up on me.

But I noticed. I noticed. I savored every minute.

I loved you so much. Long before I could say.

Long after I stopped being able to say, in this place we are now.

A quest so hard I’d have said it was impossible:

true love, happiness. A family.

We solved it together.

It was the miracle I never dared to hope for.

I died loving you. Being loved. Old. Home. Happy.

And now…it’s nothing but a memory.

A secret shared between us. But even we don’t dare to speak of it anymore.

If you’d asked me, love, before you sent that letter . . .

I didn’t want to come back. Not ever.

Not to be separated from you like this.

Not to have that hard uphill climb

that I might never achieve again, not with all these odds stacked against me—

two royal marriages to contend with, our fucked-up fairy overlords,

alcoholism, the burdens of the crown—

my inability to speak my heart.

(Your ongoing pull toward Alice Quinn.)

My paralyzing fear. Jealousy.

All the things, reasonable and un-,

that have separated us once again,

stranded on different worlds:

you on Earth, and I in Fillory.

But, love, I’ve been puzzling this out.

I’ve had time to think.

To sort out not what’s possible,

but what’s important—enough to make it happen.

I have a plan.

There are keys left on this quest.

And I’m not a king any longer.

Let’s find the next one together, shall we?

You know you want to.

I have a flying boat…

for that boat quest you always wanted to go on together?

This time, I promise you:

together, we’ll find one more key:

and on the way…

I’ll unlock my heart and say

Yes.

[spencer-ia]

tequila sunrise, dry martini, whiskey sour, cosmopolitan, sidecar, & hurricane

🐝  *  ―  𝑪𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑳 𝑸𝑼𝑰𝒁.

[ tequila sunrise ]  how would they spend their perfect day?

Spencer's perfect day would start at around 7AM to 8AM. He had always been an early riser, and his body had adjusted, automatically rising at any time within the specified time frame. Despite the early hour, the reaper doesn't get up immediately. He usually spends an hour or so on his phone or reading on his Kindle (if he finds a book that tickles his interest).

For now, he likes spending his time alone, doing meal prep as he plays the curated playlist he just made. Afterward, he'd keep the music playing as he watered, pruned, and trimmed his plants at home. He would then find things to keep him busy after eating lunch, which often includes: knitting, watching a TV show or movie, or simply going on a walk outside.

[ dry martini ]  what is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to them?

Spencer would like to put it on record that, in his humble opinion, he's able to slither out of embarrassing situations with grace. However, one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to him was that he had seen a girl carrying a hamster before, and since he absolutely adored animals, he asked them if he could pet it. The girl's silence was quite justified because not a second later, he realized that she was holding a muffin.

[ whiskey sour ]  what is the biggest lie they ever told someone?

As a reaper, Spencer's job was to guide people to the afterlife. He would sometimes get asked, "Does it hurt? Does death hurt?" And every time, he would simply reply, "No." But, in reality, he wasn't sure how people felt when he would drop them off at the gates of heaven, hell, or purgatory.

However, he does hope that death is like being carried to your bedroom. Just like those times when you were a child and fell asleep on the couch, watching television or simply waiting for someone. He hopes that it is as reassuring and comforting as the hands that tucked you into bed before closing the door to your room.

[ cosmopolitan ]  what is their happiest memory ever?

Spencer didn't have a lot of memories that he looked at with fondness. He'd been a reaper for far longer than he was a human, and though he understood that some people would quite literally kill to be immortal, he would much rather have lived a normal life as a human rather than be chosen by the universe to be a reaper.

One of his happiest moments was with @yongguk-ia when they were younger. He had been sitting down on the swings, lost in thought, when the little kid (back then) ran up to him, yapping on Opāru this and Opāru that. In typical Spencer manner, the reaper ignored the others' words and stared blankly back at them. What he did notice, though, was the way that the kid was shivering.

It was winter at that time, and the cold was biting. So although he did have to stop Yongguk from arguing with him and making it seem like Spencer was kidnapping them, the reaper treated them to a nice, hot dinner and sent him off with clothes more fitting for the temperature. His ears were ringing after the whole thing (he lived alone, so he was very much used to silence), but it left his heart feeling unusually full.

[ sidecar ]  what type of person are they most likely drawn to?

Romantically, Spencer's drawn to people who are able to match up to him when it comes to sarcasm and snide remarks. He enjoys the back and forth of it all and is reassured by the fact that they aren't the type to be offended too quickly because of his snark.

For friends, he doesn't really have much of a preference. As long as they understand that he's sarcastic by nature and that he has times when he goes MIA because he simply Is Not In The Mood For Social Interaction, they're keepers for him. (He does have a tendency to pick up strays, though).

[ hurricane ]  which song describes them the most? why?

DAY6 - Zombie. Spencer particularly relates with the lyrics "feel like I became a zombie. Not alive, but I'm still walkin.'"

[kookieswan]

On a more serious note, can I request a spicy drabble with Handlebars reader teasing JK by low-key mentioning she got a new tattoo but she won't tell him where it is and that gets him riled up and imagining things until it drives him absolutely crazy-- 👀

Handlebars – Endearment

Biker!Jungkook x Receptionist!Reader (f)

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Biker!AU, Gang!AU, Thirsty content lol, Slight fluff.

Warnings: Some NSFW/18+ content (Jungkook is a horny man, Brief panty-licking, dirty talk)

Summary: You thought you’d get away with not showing JK your new tatt… You were wrong.

Notes: Thank you for the request baby! It’s always a pleasure to write for you heh, I hope you don’t mind, I changed it up just a tiny bit!

Series Masterlist found here!

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

“What the fuck are you doing in my waiting room now Jeon?” Probably back to scare off more of your customers like the cretin he is. The dumbass seems to be doing it on a weekly basis now, coming in whenever the hell he wants to try and flirt with you so he can get into your pants. You’ll never tell him that it’s working. He looks good today, leather jacket in place, jeans ripped with chunky boots, long hair falling into his face slightly from the messy ponytail he wears… Shit.

“Whatever the hell I want baby. Don’t sound too pleased to see me, I can only take so much knowing how riled up I get you.” Sarcasm drips from his voice as he leans over your desk, big shit-eating grin on his face. It feels like deja’vu, you’ve been in this position way too many times… And always somehow end up on your back.

“Where were you on Monday? I came in but instead of you I was greeted with Jimin’s annoying ass manning the counter like a grouchy bitch.” JK eyes the stuff on your desk, looking over the little pieces you’ve added to make it yours. It’s been the same for a while, except from the newer addition of a small plush cat he got you that you added recently. Jungkook spots it, a tiny smile spreading across his lips before he looks at you expectantly.

“I was at my appointment for my new tattoo Kook.” You hadn’t told him about it for a very specific reason, that reason being that he’s lowkey obsessed with the artwork on your body. JK’s eyes light up almost immediately as you turb back to your computer, trying to busy yourself with paperwork and not him.

“Where is it? Lemme see.” You promptly ignore him, clicking away on the computer to keep yourself busy. Kook doesn’t let up though, nope, he leans even further over the desk so he can turn off your monitor. Tilting in, you bite at his fingers as he quickly pulls away, eyes wide with raised eyebrows. He mutters something about you being spicy before you roll your eyes at him.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. Plus, its in a little bit of an… Intimate area. It would be indecent to show you in public.” Jungkook’s expression quickly goes from surprised to horny. You know its horny because he always has the same look on his face, lidded eyes, mouth pursing slightly. It’s not a surprised, not in the slightest. You could probably talk about licking jelly off of his toes and he would get horny about it. He stands up fully to walk around your desk, and once again, you ignore him… or try to.

“Well, now you have to let me see it babe. Did you get your ass-cheek tatted? God, that’d be so hot to see while I’m hitting it from the back.” A snort leaves your mouth as you turn the monitor back on, trying your best not to laugh. His charm is something else, and yet you’re attracted to the little (big sexy) weirdo. Deciding to play a bit of a dangerous game, you tell him where it is. Maybe you’ll show him, you did wear a skirt today after all.

“No, I didn’t get my fucking ass tattooed you idiot. It’s on my thigh.” Jungkook has loads of tattoos himself; full sleeves, some on his legs, that damn neck tat… They’re everywhere. But for some reason he seems to be obsessed with yours. You’ve caught him tracing them more than once after you fuck, eyes trailing across your skin slowly as you attempt to catch your breath. Kookie may be an annoying asshole, but his stroke game is nothing to scoff at.

“Don’t be stingy, let me see. Wanna see!” The man grabs for your chair, promptly spinning you around till you’re facing him, knee to knee. For a member of one of the most feared gangs in the area, he sounds like whining child. And for some reason, it’s absolutely adorable. He sticks out his bottom lip, clasps his hands together, gives you the biggest most galaxy like doe-eyes.

“…Fine, I’ll let you se-“ You don’t even get to finish the sentence before he drops to his knees in front of you, large hands grasping at your legs and shoving them apart. You gawk as he climbs between them, a hand trailing up your leg till it reaches the edge of your skirt. His eyes flutter up to look at you, but you keep your mouth quiet as the fabric of your skirt raises up your leg over so slowly.

Jungkook stares at the ink, eyes roaming over the area with curiosity. It’s a collection of flowers, ones that mean a lot to you for different reasons. Your birth flower, your favorite, a few others thrown into the mix. Jungkook notices one in particular though, poking at the pretty tiger flower that blends in with the rest almost flawlessly. You might have had him in mind when you worked it into the design, and he doesn’t have to ask to know why its there.

“…It’s really pretty. Suits you well. Looks good on you.” His voice is deep, raspy even as his breath hits the inside of your thigh, his nose nearly touching your skin. You’re not sure why, but you feel the need to run your fingers through his hair affectionately, so you attempt to even though it’s tied up. Jungkook continues to rest his cheek on your thigh for a bit before he speaks up again, your eyes on the door to make sure no one walks in and sees you doing whatever the fuck this is.

“Let me eat you out pretty girl. Wanna taste you…” Snapping your eyes back to the man between your legs, you see that the softness that was on his face is gone now, replaced by mischief instead. He inches further forward, hands still gripping you, kneading at the skin of your thighs as he lets out a low groan.

“I could hide under the desk, eat your pretty little cunt out till you cum all over my face… No one would even know, not until you’re crying out my name anyway. Bet you’d like that though, get off on everyone watching as I make you mine.” The idea is actually enough to make you heat up, the notion of customers walking in and out, interacting with you as Jungkook laps at your wetness, fucks you against the desk... He leans in, manages to leave a single lick up your clothed pussy before you tug him back by his ponytail. Letting out another whine, he huffs, galaxy eyes back in full force.

“At least let me fingerbang you baby. I promise it’ll be good; I’ll have you seeing stars in no time.” As wonderful as that sounds (you’re deciding not to pay attention to the word choice), you really don’t want to lose your job. Bossman is an understanding dude, but you don’t think he’ll be very pleased if he finds out you’ve been fucking Jungkook at work... During work hours no less. Strangely enough, you like this job and don’t really want to get fired.

“How about I go home with you after work, hmm? There’s only about an hour left and after I’ll let you look at all of my tattoos as long as you want Kookie.” The pretty man lets out a huff of air, but listens to you like a gentleman, nonetheless. Standing from his spot, he pulls you up with him so he can switch spots with you, plopping his own ass on the chair before patting a thick thigh.

“Fine, but I’m not going easy on you babydoll… Sit on my lap till then, yeah? Wanna hold you…”