#but. i’m still coworkers with this person as i got them a job as our previous one shut

[gaymarioo]

friend drama is the worst

[scarlet-bitch]

You'd Have to Stop the World...

11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*

a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋

Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.

“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”

A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.

But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.

“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”

Matt’s reasoning included:

• “He never makes you pay for weed.” 

⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely. 

• “He flirts with you.”

⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun. 

• "He call's you - Baby." 

⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since. 

• “The way he fucking looks at you.” 

⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to. 

Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.

In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.

Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade. 

"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"

Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time. 

It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions. 

On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”

One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.

Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?" 

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"

With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint. 

"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment. 

Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit. 

"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself." 

You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie. 

"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.

The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced. 

You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.  

You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.

Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.

”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.

"Eddie," you pressed. 

He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."

"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."

A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent. 

"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months." 

"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."

You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"

His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy." 

"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”

A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”

"Cut the shit, Munson.”

His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”

"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.

"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. 

"What about?" he asked.

"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”

Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable. 

The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.

"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.

Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”

"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”

His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."

You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.

“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you

Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.   

When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips. 

"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.

He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."

The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.

You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.

Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.

"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.

Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.

"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.

Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."

You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."

“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep. 

His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm. 

As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”

Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.” 

Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.

“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for. 

“What have you fantasized about?”

Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”

“Tell me,” you demanded. 

“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch. 

With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. 

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.

You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the  difference. He felt phenomenal. 

You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.

You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.

“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.

He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple. 

You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.

Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”

You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.

"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build. 

You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.

“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.

“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.

“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.

That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.

As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.

“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.” 

Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.

The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.

“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.

“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face.  He responded by pounding into you just as you asked. 

Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.

As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.

“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.

He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit,  gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.

You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting. 

"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."

Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.

"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.

Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.

Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.

"Of course," you replied.

"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased. 

"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.

"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”

“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."

Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?" 

You grinned. “Crystal."

"So, friends with benefits?” He asked. 

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his. 

"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair" 

Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable. 

Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner:  The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in. 

Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 

You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly,  holding you in place as he drove into you. 

Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here. 

“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.  

Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible. 

As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close.  To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back. 

Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing. 

If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue. 

As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.

When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home.  "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.

As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you. 

As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.

With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need. 

You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"

Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face. 

In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core. 

The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you. 

Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you. 

His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.

You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.” 

“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.

Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer. 

You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.

"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."

As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.

You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in. 

"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."

"Mind if I join ya instead?" 

There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."

You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin. 

You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.

Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure. 

You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good." 

You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements. 

The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."

With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.

His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.

"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"

As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more. 

Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.

By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special that he shared it with you. 

You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back. 

On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.

The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both. 

You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.  

"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth." 

The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party. 

You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple. 

“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months. 

You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he? 

When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling. 

Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.

You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.

"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually." 

Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."

A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough. 

"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?" 

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."

"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.

"You were so quick to dismiss it."

"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?"

You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying." 

The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.

"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"

Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."

You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”

“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”

His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming. 

Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.

"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."

Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking. 

Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."

"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?" 

His stomach twisted at that.

 “Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."

Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.

"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.

The silence grew heavy between you as Eddie struggled to find a response.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning," his voice wavering as he spoke. 

You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.

“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you. 

“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done." 

Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..." 

"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.” 

Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying. 

"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."

Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.

"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories. 

"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking. 

Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, listening to you explain.  

"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was  being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."

Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret.  “I can't-"

You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.  "I'd probably do it again though."

"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he tried to hold back his emotions.

Your heart broke at his words but you knew this was the choice you had to make, even if it wasn't what you wanted.

"I have to go," you said as you turned and walked out of the trailer.

“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”

Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left.  Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul. 

His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you. 

Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that.  While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in. 

He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind. 

Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down. 

A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.

“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you. 

When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.

As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more. 

Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.

The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.

This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.

In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.

You deserved the best, and Eddie was convinced he wasn't that - he was stil a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn't have much to offer.

Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.

When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much. 

“Maybe try reaching out to her though," he suggested. 

 Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.

The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming back to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right. 

“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough" 

It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved. 

As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had; you college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.

Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.

Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.

You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.

When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."

You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out. 

Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"

Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this." 

He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay," she whispered.

Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time. 

She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."

As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.

“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"

It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening. 

You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.

Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.

Watching the band’s journey over the past three years -  early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.

As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.

“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.

Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence. 

“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked."

The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie rushed back, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home," you said, attempting to mask the unease. "But I'm really happy for you all."

As you started to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. "Baby, wait," he called out.

There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been desperate to hear.

You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table."

"Of course," you said softly.

His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible."

You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.

"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or...?"

"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.

Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."

His words hit you harder than expected, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as shook your head in acknowledgement.

He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.

You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. "Ever since I met you, I've seen how hard you've worked for what you want, and I'm so happy that it's paying off."

The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.

You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.

Eddie looked at you, his gaze lingering as if he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”

The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.

Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.

About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.

“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.

“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest because... it’s a lie. it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.

“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again! I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.

“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry that I didn't call you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life because every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on, try to forget it, but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”

“Eddie,” you breathed.

Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”

You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: After lots of games it is finally time for meet Dexter in person

Part 4

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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The last few days were hectic, to say the least, with Dexter’s constant crew of agents surrounding him it was hard to send him any more goodies without risking exposing my identity earlier than I intended. I wasn’t sure if they’d allow me to send him treats without thoroughly expecting anything I send so I held back. Things were also hectic due to the new developments in the Bay Harbor Butcher case but also a big lead on someone the fraud department had been trying to catch for months, meaning my team was split pretty thin throughout the building trying to help with major and minor technology errors. It was absolutely insane how many calls we got where it was usually a simple fix, I love my job but god some of my coworkers are idiots. I crossed my arms over my chest with a sigh as I walked down the hallway past the homicide department towards the elevator, I couldn’t help but peek through the glad walls, I was surprised to see that Dexter and his entourage were nowhere to be seen. Though I could see him and another guy hiding away in the back, my attention was drawn away as I heard a voice call out my name. To my surprise it was Debra, Dexter’s sister, I didn’t know her very well but we had started talking more frequently as she’s needed my help quite often as of late.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you up here in a while, how have you been?” She said with a smile tucking her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve been alright considering everything that’s going on, how are you? I heard you guys found the butcher.”

“I’m alright as well, I’m just glad we’re close to putting this guy behind bars. It fucking sucks he was one of us though, you just never know what a person is like behind closed doors yknow?” I nodded stiffly trying not to laugh at the irony.

“Yeah, yeah it’s awful. The world’s a really scary place, but uh can I ask what was the deal was with all those FBI agents and your brother?”

“Ugh don’t even get me started on that, they were his protective detail just in case the butcher came after him but he fucking called them off. I was actually headed to go give him a piece of my mind about that when I saw you.”

“Well, they did seem kind of suffocating..” She gave me a look and I raised my hands defensively, “Sorry not my place, I’ll let you talk to him then.”

“Thanks, I will but uh I was wondering if you would maybe want to grab some drinks later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not tonight, I probably won’t be done until very late. Maybe another time, first round on me?” She frowned but nodded, she patted my shoulder before storming off to see her brother.

It was great news to hear that Dexter’s constant security detail was gone but it also meant he was off to cause trouble tonight and I was going to figure out what. For now, since I have the chance I should probably send another note, I left the department and headed back to my office. I didn’t like the fact I was going to have to print it here but it would have to do for now, I didn’t want to wait too long and lose his interest and curiosity. Once I was back in my office I had to figure out what I was going to write, the other notes came easy but this one was harder to write. The big finale of our interaction was coming, the day we were set to meet in person, I was thankful I had scheduled it for a week or so after I sent the note as having him meet me with security detail would not have been fun. Now that I knew they were officially gone I could send another note confirming that I still wanted to meet him that Friday after not sending anything for nearly two weeks straight, I printed it out in my office and placed it in the bag with the double fudge brownies I had originally brought as a treat after lunch to instead give to Dexter. This time I would deliver it myself to spice things up. As I walked towards the elevator I wondered if he would try to kill me, that’s definitely something I had to consider. I know he kills murders but I don’t know the full extent of how he operates and if I’m safe from being tied down on one of his tables, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Of course that doesn’t mean I was going to meet him unarmed, I would take my own precautions. I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around making sure he was in his office and approached. I knocked on the door and held out the bag of brownies with the note as I smiled at him.

“Special delivery for Dexter Morgan.” I handed them to him and he offered them, I couldn’t help but notice the grin that briefly appeared on his face.

“Oh thank you, any chance you’re willing to tell me who this admirer is?” He asked as he set it down on his desk and looked away not expecting much.

“Sorry no can do, but I hear it won’t be long. Make sure to clear your calendar for Friday.”

I smirked and turned to make a quick exit when I saw the infamous Lila who Debra could not shut up about, she frowned and I knew she saw my interaction with Dexter and I could only imagine what she was thinking but it couldn’t be good. Before I could do anything she said goodbye to the detective she was talking to and hurried out the room towards the elevator. I sighed knowing that there was no way that this could end well, I left the department with a glance back at Dexter. It wasn’t a surprise that our eyes met again, I just smiled and disappeared out the door.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter read the note as he savored the brownie, it was delicious as always but his mind drifted to the brief conversation with a particular someone who he’d been seeing more frequently around the office. Most would say it was a coincidence but Dexter had stopped believing in those long ago with the job he had, they had to be the secret admirer or very closely involved with them. It didn’t make sense though, how could someone so normal and friendly be like him, he simply refused to believe it. From the most recent note it appears he’ll have an answer soon enough, they reiterated their intentions to meet at the beach beside Coral Cove Marina tomorrow afternoon. It was unsettling how much they knew about him and Dexter wondered if he would have to kill them, his number one rule was to not get caught and it’s not like they were innocent. But if he was interpreting the notes correctly they were likely about as innocent as he was, it was conflicting and killing them would make him the biggest hypocrite. Harry’s code has never prepared him for a situation like this. What right would he have to kill them if they worked under a similar code of conduct as he did? If what he did was just how could he persecute you for the exact thing he would be doing to you?

Rather than fretting over the ethical conundrum of his secret admirer, Dexter had other matters that needed his attention like whether or not he would have to kill this ‘Harlow’ person, after searching up his phone number it wasn’t hard to find his full name. Dexter put Christopher Harlow into the department's database, a known alias for one Jose Garza who had committed various crimes but none of which involved murder. Dexter didn’t need to kill him as long as he didn’t know where the cabin was, so he sent a quick text inviting him there to get his ‘snow’. Dexter didn’t wait long for a response and was relieved to hear that he had no clue, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and stood up. He needed to have a quick chat with Debra but more importantly, he needed more answers from Doakes. What he said had stuck with him, was Harry truly not who he said he was?

★ ✮ ★

Of course, I followed Dexter after he left work, I knew better than anyone he didn’t ditch his security detail just to lay around at home and watch tv porn. My suspicions were confirmed when he didn’t take the usual right at the light toward his apartment, I drove far behind keeping a safe distance between us to avoid being caught. Which grew harder to do as he ventured into the more rural part of Maimi, eventually he turned down a long dirt road. I watched as he took one more turn and eventually turned off his car, as I crept slowly towards the turn I could see up ahead was a very remote cabin. Now that I know where it was I could come back later to see what exactly he was doing here, for now, I had more important things to tend to like Franklin Graney.

The thirty-eight-year-old phone technician who not only kills people but violates them alive and dead, he’d just finished checking in after his last job for the day and was about to head home. He made his way to his truck but before he could even unlock it I came up behind him and used my wire garrote to strangle him, I forced him to kneel on the ground and pushed him away from me so he couldn’t reach back to scratch me. It only took a few minutes for him to pass out, I let his body haphazardly fall onto the concrete. I left him there and pulled my car up beside his, then I dragged him into my backseat. I got into the front and sighed, I peeked back at him through my rearview mirror with a frown but resolved myself to finish the job. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to paradise.

Paradise was in the basement of an abandoned hospital, specifically an abandoned hospital with a morgue built into its basement which was equipped with everything I needed. Of course, I had to rig a few things to work the way I needed them to and clean things very deeply, it was awful in here when I first found it. Now it looked quite nice and I had even decorated it to my liking, and I had taken several measures so that any wanna-be urban explorers wouldn’t be able to get down here even if they tried. It was truly perfect. I turned on my music and got to work dismembering and draining the blood to save for later.

It was nearly midnight when I finished, cleanup was messier than usual today but I got what I needed. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring any of the meat or blood I harvested home because Debra was, unfortunately, spending the night, after we went drinking the last time she confided in me about her relationship with Lundy and apparently took that as us being friends now. I wasn’t a big fan of Debra but if I was going to pursue Dexter I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to befriend her, so even if it was unconventional to have her over I was prepared for this. It took a lot of reading, trial, and error but I had successfully managed to rig this floor to a generator which allowed me to use the mortuary fridge. I slid out one of the chambers originally used to store bodies and set the coolers containing the meat and blood onto it, then I slid it back in and shut the door. All I had to do now was take what was left of the body and incinerate it, I chose this hospital specifically because of its incinerator. I could start and finish my disposal of the corpse in one place and didn’t have to bother traveling around to complete the job it was wonderful, I placed the remnants on a cadaver stretcher and wheeled them into the other room. I opened the incinerator door and pulled out the long tray that slides inside, I transferred everything onto it and slid it back in. Then after pressing a button and pulling the lever, the incinerator roared to life, thankfully it was advanced enough to shut off on its own. I just had to come back for the bones another day, I walked back into the main room and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out. I needed to get as much sleep as I could considering what I had planned for tomorrow.

I quietly shut my front door behind me as I slipped off my shoes, of course, Deb had just tossed hers over here haphazardly. I bent over and neatly put them to the side like mine, as I stood back up I was surprised when a light turned on behind me. Debra was sitting up on the couch still awake, I completely forgot that she was still struggling to fall asleep when she was on her own. I smiled over at her and approached.

“You really were out super late.”

“Yeah, I really needed to blow off some steam then I ended up driving around not realizing how late it had gotten.” She nodded but still looked at me a bit odd.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re back safe. I was starting to think something bad happened to you.” I gave her a spin and smiled.

“Well as you can see I’m A-okay, but I desperately need a shower and to sleep for at least a decade.” I walked past her towards my bedroom, “ Good night Deb oh and I probably won’t be at work tomorrow by the way.” I said before shutting the door behind me, I desperately needed to sleep in and prepare for my meeting with Dexter tomorrow.

I tossed my bag off to the side of my bedroom and started to undress, I grabbed my towel and got into the shower. The water was warm and poured down my back it was like a really wet and warm hug. I reveled in it as I wrapped my arms around myself, killing people wasn’t something I had ever come around to enjoying and wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life. I had my life fucked from the beginning by people even more fucked up than I had become, so now I kill people so that I could cannibalize them. What a twisted life I was living, everyone I knew would be mortified to learn about what I do or the kinds of things I eat. Though if things continued the way they were nobody ever would, I finished showering and stepped out. The bathroom was warm and foggy from all the steam from my shower, I wrapped my towel around me before wiping away the steam on the mirror. I stared at my reflection briefly and a bloody monster stared back at me, I turned away and quickly left the bathroom. I just needed to go to bed rather than dwelling on things I couldn’t change as it wasn’t doing me any good.

Friday morning came faster than I anticipated but I made sure to call out yesterday so I slept in until ten, though it was hard to stay asleep when I had exciting plans for today. I got dressed and practically ran out the door, thankfully Deb had already left. I got into my car, I still had some time before it was noon so I decided to check out Dexter’s cabin in the woods before meeting him at the beach. I struggled a bit to remember where I was going but the closer I got the easier it was to remember, and eventually, I made it. Thankfully it seemed Dexter wasn’t here right now, I got out of the car and my clothes flowed slightly in the breeze. I nervously approached the cabin, it was old and looked damn near run down. I opened the door and was instantly met with a foul but familiar stench, I winced but stepped inside despite it and was surprised to see Sergeant Doakes locked behind a cage.

“Thank you, god, please you have to get me out of here.” He said with a relieved sigh as he stood up.

“What-what happened to you? Why are you locked up here?” I asked mostly to myself as I approached the cage resting my hand against the bars.

“It’s that freak, Dexter Morgan, he’s the Bay Harbor Butcher and he locked me in here. You have to get me out, the keys are over there.”

I frowned and I genuinely felt bad, to be honest, I liked Doakes and respected him as an officer but I couldn’t let him expose Dexter when I still had business with him. I thought for a moment debating what I should do, I didn’t want to leave him here as realistically Doakes hadn’t done anything wrong besides getting too close to the truth. Which was probably why Dexter hadn’t killed him already. It was his problem to deal with and I really shouldn’t get involved, I turned around and bolted out of the cabin despite his cries for help. I felt sick to my stomach, just leaving him there but what was I supposed to do? I had finally found someone somewhat like me, how could I throw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? I quickly turned my car around and drove as fast as I could back to the main road, I decided to head to the beach even though there was still time before noon. I could hang out there and wait for Dexter to arrive but also spend some time clearing my head.

★ ✮ ★

After an enlightening but also earth-shattering conversation with Captain Matthew Dexter was lost, despite that he still arrived at the beach on time to finally find out who this secret admirer was. He stood far away from the shore in the shade with his hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance where the ocean stretched out for miles farther than he could see but he also observed the various people littered across the beach. So when someone approached him from his left he turned to see who it was, and his suspicions were confirmed though it left him with far more questions than answers. She smiled at him but seemed apprehensive and kept a safe but reasonable distance.

“See we finally met huh? I’m sure you’re already working out how to get rid of me in your head which I wouldn’t recommend unless you want everyone at the office to know it was you. I’m just here to talk, now can we do that or are you going to take care of me like you did Roger?” Despite her body language showing how anxious from her eyes Dexter could see she wasn’t afraid.

“I have to admit I’m impressed by how bold you are, but you know me well. I won’t kill you for now just don’t give me a reason to.” He said narrowing his eyes slightly for a moment daring her to try something, “Why have you been sending me these gifts, what is it that you want from me?”

“That’s a great question, honestly at first I was just messing with you but then I grew curious once I found out you were the infamous Bay Harbor butcher. We operate in similar ways and I was a bit envious of how neatly you worked, at some point I started to look up to you and maybe even develop a crush.” She admitted turning away and walking further towards the beach, “It’s not every day you meet a serial killer especially one with morals. I figured we could be friends or something.” She said with a laugh as Dexter followed slowly behind her as they walked along the beach.

It was weird for Dexter to hear the words ‘serial killer’ fall so casually from her lips as she laughed like it was the most innocent thing in the world. Dexter’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and complex thoughts, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they asked to meet him here. But he definitely wasn’t expecting a genuine love confession, sure they had been sending him notes under the guise of a secret admirer but he assumed it was just an excuse. Not to mention he was still conflicted as you did have morals on killing like he did so it’s not like he could justifiably kill you, this entire situation was baffling. Dexter couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her though, despite being weary she still carried herself with a confidence and aliveness that he didn’t have. He couldn’t wrap himself around how she could when they were the same, what did she have that he didn’t?

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it? I’m sure this is kind of a lot.” She said with an awkward laugh, Dexter wondered if she could read his mind.

“I just never imagined I would find someone like-minded, but you want to be friends? How do I know you won’t just betray me?”

“Uhh I don’t know…” She paused thinking for a moment weighing her options in her head, “I could give you the location to my kill room? Then you could give me something more concrete about, uh let’s call it our hobby, then we’ll be even. Is that good enough for you?” Dexter thought for a moment, he hesitated but he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t desperate for a connection much like this one.

“Sharing our vulnerabilities would be enough for me to consider this friendship, I keep my tools in a secret compartment in a chest in my apartment.” Dexter frowned as soon as the words came out his mouth, why did he tell her that, he could be risking his entire well-being just for some woman. But after everything going on with Rita and Lila, he needed someone more like-minded and rational.

“Oh so that’s what was in that trunk, I knew it was suspicious. Well, there’s this abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town that closed a little over a decade ago, in the basement is where I keep everything and do my work. There now we both have a safeguard in case of the other.”

“Yes, mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly, but now for the other reason I invited you here. I do want to actually get to know you as a person Dexter, so how do you feel about treating this as an actual date?” She extended her hand out to him offering to hold hands.

Dexter mused for a moment with an unreadable expression as he stared down at her hand, “An actual date doesn’t sound bad. That’s fine with me.” He laced his fingers between her and she smiled.

“Perfect, I should probably start by introducing myself.” She told Dexter her name and he remembered Debra mentioning her once or twice, “Anyway do you know why I chose this beach?” She asked.

Dexter nodded and listened quietly as the woman went into a long speech about why she had chosen this beach besides its connections to Dexter. They walked along the shore as she did hand in hand with the sun shining down on them from high in the sky, from afar they appeared to be a normal-looking couple on a normal date. Dexter still wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he was at least enjoying the company as she made for a decent conversationalist. Not to mention he didn’t have to sugarcoat what he said because of a certain hobby of his because she understood, it was refreshing for him. Intoxicating even, his grip on her hand tightened slightly as he stared forward listening carefully to her words.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up walking along the shore talking for several long hours, well I did most of the talking as Dexter wasn’t exactly the chatty type which was fine. He still responded and was actively listening to what I said and occasionally when the topic broached something he was passionate about then he became chatty, but just as quickly he’d go quiet as if he was afraid to be passionate about anything. It was odd but I decided not to comment on it, as it was still the first date and I would have plenty of time to learn about him. Especially about the way he operated, and at some point our conversation drifted that way. I had seen his neatness in person, and I complimented him on how amazing it was that he never left a crime scene. He was very interested in how I disposed of my bodies though, I kept it vague and only talked about the incinerator. It was too early to talk about my cannibalism, I’m sure that’d scare him off faster than I could say, cannibal.

Eventually, the conversation strayed away from our extracurricular activities, we talked about our masks and he was curious how I hid who I really was so well, we talked about family, our normal pass times, and at some point the meaning of life. It was nice being able to let go like this, not having to hide what I do because someone wouldn’t understand. It was like I was breathing for the first time, and from the relaxed smile on Dexter’s face, I could tell he felt the same. I glanced past him and could see the sun setting over the horizon, it was a beautiful sight and the sun illuminated Dexter with a warm glow.

“This is so nice, I feel like I just let a huge weight off my chest. Not to mention the sunset is amazing, it’s so beautiful.” I said walking towards it as Dexter followed closely behind me as our hands were still linked.

“Yeah, admittedly this is kind of nice. I almost feel alive.” He said staring out at the sun with his hand on his heart.

“News flash buddy, you always were alive. You’ve been living every moment, I think you just can’t see it.” He glanced at me but didn’t respond so I changed the topic, “So does this mean I get a second date? I think this went too well to end with one.”

“Yeah, I think a second date would be quite nice.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling a friend about a job I know for certain is terrible?

I have a degree in a creative field of work. Years ago I applied for a job in a city out of state, for a small business. I lowballed on the expected salary because I was desperate to get the job and get established before I moved. I figured once I got my apartment squared away I could look for a better, higher paying job.

Well, I got the job, and it turns out I actually really enjoyed working there. It was a pleasant work environment, I had cool coworkers, the boss was understanding and generous. So I stayed despite the low pay. I did get yearly raises, but even with those I was still below the average salary for my position.

That all changed earlier this year, when the old boss decided to sell the business due to health reasons. The new bosses made their fortune in a completely different industry, and knew nothing about our industry. They are in way over their heads.

They don’t fill out orders correctly. They take on orders that are physically impossible and expect us to do them anyway. They buy expensive new machines, don’t train us on them, and immediately start taking huge orders for them when we haven’t ironed on the kinks. We can’t focus on any complex orders because they’re constantly making us switch gears to personal projects, or forgotten orders, or different huge rush orders. The wife has a habit of rearranging our spaces and messing them all up, sometimes when we’re still in them trying to finish projects. They switched to a new shop management system that is counterintuitive and has too many moving parts and as a result mistakes have been piling up. Did I mention I was the only person in my particular department? Because I am.

It got to the point where I was having breakdowns every day. I have reached the point of total burnout. I finally decided enough was enough and turned in my two weeks’ notice plus however long it takes to train someone new.

Well, my “two weeks plus whatever it takes to train the newbie” has turned into six weeks and counting. They didn’t realize how cheap a date I was. They’ve interviewed people, but they’re all asking for twice the salary they’re offering. Which, good for them, get that scratch, but it means I’m languishing here, still suffering.

Now here is where I feel I MBTA. I have a Facebook friend, an acquaintance I met on another creative project, asking around for any local jobs in (creative field). He also lost his job recently, so he’s pretty hard up. I told him about the position opening up. I did not give him any details why I was leaving, or the pay, or the clusterfuck environment.

I feel like I’m leading him into a trap. But I’m so desperate to leave. I don’t want to leave without a replacement in place, because I like all my coworkers and without that one department the whole business will go belly up and they’ll all be out a job.

Am I leading him into a trap? AITA?

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 13

[Master List]

TW for implied/referenced sexual assault of a minor!!!

Things had been going well recently- well- well enough. Miguel had been in a foul mood since Jason’s tutoring session but refused to tell Danny what had caused it but other than that, things had been fine. Santi had been spending time at Danny’s to both give his brother some space and get some himself, Dani had scheduled her first (and hopefully only) GED test, and Sam and Tucker had started packing.

Tucker said his job interview went well but he hadn’t heard back yet. That didn’t matter because where Sam went, Tucker went, so they’d begun packing up their apartment and planned to find a day Danny could help them move. Wes had been texting more too, and they’d also planned to find a day when either of them could visit the other in their town and hang out one on one.

(“We have to meet up in Metropolis so I can prove to you that my coworker Clark Kent is Superman and that I’m not crazy! Not only that- but the other Supers? Superboy the first is definitely his clone- I mean they look practically identical! I’m betting on the last one being his son, but that could be wrong- either way you have to visit because-”)

That’s why it only made sense that the universe pay Danny back. After all, if he had a good ish few days, he deserved to have a really shitty one to compensate, right?

Danny went over to the boys to make breakfast like he did most days (whether they came out of their rooms to eat before he left for work or not was up to them, but there would be food there if they did), Santiago had dragged himself to the kitchen table and started eating while talking with Danny about his plans for the day.

He wasn’t sure what had caused it but only a moment after Miguel had walked into the kitchen to silently grab food and leave (like he did most mornings- he really wasn’t a morning person) he froze, grew angry, and started shouting at Danny. Even Santi seemed caught off guard by the things he yelled. “You’re not our dad!” and “We don’t need you!” and other hurtful things were flung at Danny until the man calmly (only outwardly) stood up, and removed himself from the situation.

Danny had never had anger issues per se, but he’d had a lot of anger in his lifetime and nowhere to put it. He’d learned a long time ago that when he was angry- like angry-hurt-angry -he needed to stop, get out of the situation upsetting him, and come back to it later. So he did.

When he got to work he was still hurt and upset but he tried to push the feeling away and get some work done. Ember messaged him to let him know she wouldn’t be coming today which… she could have let him know with a little more notice but it was fine! Everything was fine! It was a Wednesday which meant Duke would be in so it would be fine.

Two parents didn’t follow the rules about dropping off sick kids (he couldn’t exactly blame them but…) and he had to call their families to come pick them up only a couple of hours after drop-off. Along with that a bunch of the, typically, well behaved kids were acting out (was it a full moon or something?) and it ended up being an incredibly exhausting morning for everybody.

Around lunch he slipped into his office for ten minutes of peace and quiet before sending a clone back out to do his job and staying to work on an overwhelming amount of paperwork he’d been neglecting. Between both of his jobs it was never ending.

It was an hour until check out, though many parents got out of work before closing time and had already picked up their kids, and they still had twelve kids between himself and Duke. There was a loud crash and shriek from the main room that didn’t sound quite harmless and Danny immediately tapped into what his clone was experiencing.

“-kids are the best for my tests after all!”

Danny’s clone was standing in front of the kids defensively, face to face with three goons and the ugliest… person? He’d ever seen. They didn’t look like a person fully, more like a-

“Scarecrow.” Duke muttered from his right where he also stood protectively in front of a group of kids. 

“Now, let’s see how this new strain works on kids.” He leered.

Fuck. Fuck that. Danny stopped looking through his clone’s eyes and stood up. He needed to do something, he needed to- He looked down. He needed to transform. After becoming the king of the Infinite Realms Danny had gotten a new transformation, sort of. It was essentially Phantom, but more regal, more royal. He hadn’t transformed into his typical Phantom form- his ghost fighting vigilante form, since the incident.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and transformed. He only took a moment to glance at himself and note that his outfit was different, without actually being able to see what all was different, before using invisibility and intangibility and flying out of the room to deal with the fucker who dared threaten his kids.

~~~

“Demon brat! No one cares about your blood status!” Jason cut in. Despite his words, there wasn’t any real bite to them and everyone knew it. It was rare for Jason to spend any time at the manor, sometimes he came to the cave for emergencies, but that was the cave. The manor? Practically unheard of unless Alfred had specifically told Jason to be there, usually for Sunday brunch. But it was neither Sunday, nor Alfred’ request that brought Jason to the manor.

The fact that he’d randomly dropped by for dinner that night had been a surprise to everyone, but not an unwelcome one. Even Damian seemed to be less irritable than usual. Jason couldn’t figure out what had possessed him to drop by. He’d woken up a couple of hours before, did some work, made some food for the Nightingales (you couldn’t convince Jason that those boys weren’t Danny’s kids), and then he’d just…. Driven to the manor. Like it was natural. 

When Bruce had seen him chilling on a couch in the main living room, he’d gotten emotional, choking back his joy and trying not to make Jason uncomfortable by hovering. (He definitely hovered.) When Jason had mentioned he’d be joining them for dinner, the man’s eyes got misty and Jason ditched him to help Alfred in the kitchen.

Before the youngest could retort, they all got an alert on their phone. The ‘emergency’ alert that was programmed to come through even if their phones were on silent- hell, even if they were shut off, the emergency alert would come through.

Everyone scrambled for their phones, pushing away from the table and towards the study. They were all accounted for at the moment. Jason had come over for dinner, Dick was on a date, Tim and Damian had been home and eating dinner with Jason and Bruce, Steph and Cass were having a girls night with Babs, and Duke-

Duke.

He was supposed to be at work for a little while longer. Pulling up the feed on Duke’s phone and displaying it on the batcomputer, Bruce began to assess the situation while everyone began suiting up. 

Jason came back in time to see what was happening and noted that not only was Scarecrow on the screen, but Danny was standing to the left and slightly in front of Duke. Of course he was- Duke worked at Danny’s daycare after all. 

(When he’d learned Duke was working at Danny’s daycare he’d immediately grown suspicious and, after hacking into the bats computer, he found he was right to be. Tim had a whole folder on ‘Daniel Nightingale’ and everything he knew about the man which was- admittedly not a lot. Jason couldn’t really be angry (yes he could) about Tim’s hyper paranoia but it was kind of annoying.)

“Now, let’s see how well this new strain works on kids.” Scarecrow said, reaching into his pocket. 

Danny shifted slightly, gesturing behind himself until the kids who’d clung to him scrambled back towards Duke. The camera angle shifted slightly as Duke pushed more kids behind himself and inched them towards where Jason assumed they’d be safer. “Yeah, I don’t think so buddy.” The twink of a man stepped forward and Jason was reminded that this was the same twink who’d killed the Joker. One shotted him, actually.

Still, he didn’t want to take any chances and rushed to his bike.

“B, have O send the footage to my helmet.” He ordered before taking off, followed closely by Red Robin, and only a moment later, Batman and Robin.

As he zipped through the streets, he listened to what was happening. 

“Such courage! Not for long. What do you think you can do to fight fear?” Scarecrow mocked. “You’ll soon see your worst fear. You won’t be so brave then. No one can fight fear!”

“I already have. Not interested in a repeat.” Danny ground out before tackling the man to the ground. B growled over the comms as the vial of fear toxin was flung out of Scarecrow’s hands and careened to the ground.

There was no sound of impact and before Jason could glance at his screen to see what was happening, Duke’s broadcast cut out.

“Hood, ETA?” Batman growled snappily.

“Two minutes.” He responded irritably, green clouding the edges of his vision again, worse than usual. Now that he thought about it, it’d been a couple of days since he’d experienced any Pit Rage symptoms. Fuck, not the time.

In the two minutes it took to get to the Daycare, Jason couldn’t help but wonder; how the fuck did Danny always manage to get into these situations? And how would the man get himself out of it this time? (Hopefully not through murder ((even though it was kind of hot))).

~~~

“I already have. Not interested in a repeat.” Danny heard his clone say before tackling the rogue to the ground. A vial of toxic gas flew through the air and Phantom rushed to catch it. Once he’d grabbed it, he phased it into his body for safe keeping, and removed his invisibility. Clone Danny was still fighting Scarecrow but the rogue’s goons had burst through the doors only a moment later and surrounded them. 

Phantom rushed the goons, landing on the ground and matching them blow for blow. “Get the kids out of here!” He shouted at his clone, not waiting for a response before giving the fight his full attention.

Three goons jumped at him. Phantom disarmed the first one, snapping the gun in half before tossing the broken pieces to the side. The second goons opened fire, not taking care of his fellow goons and actually hitting the third guy- were these goons for real? Any bullets that should have hit him, flew straight through him, until the man had used all of his bullets. Scarecrow pulled out another vial and three things happened at once.

Red Hood crashed through one of the windows (ugh, he’d have to get that replaced, it was hard to find good window installers in this city), Phantom inhaled something sweet and minty that made him feel strange, and, distracted by the new smell and sensation, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. Oddly enough, it didn’t hurt at all.

The goon who shot him was knocked to the side by Red Hood who seemed to be fighting with a vengeance and that was when Phantom realized eight more goons had crowded into the building. Taking a risk, Phantom tapped into his clone’s senses to make sure the kids were safe, and once he knew they were, he went all out.

Punching the nearest goon firmly in the chest, they crashed into another one who stumbled. Phantom spun around, round-house kicking the goon who’d rushed him after his buddy had been knocked out. It took only a couple of minutes before Red Hood and Phantom had knocked out all but the last goon- Scarecrow had long since run.

Grabbing the last guy by the shirt, he pulled him close. Hood gave him a strange look (yes Danny was fairly sure he could read the man’s expressions through the helmet) but he ignored it. He had a message to deliver.

“I hope you’re listening carefully, because I need you to tell all of your little friends, your employer, and everyone you run across something for me. Are you listening?” He asked as if he was speaking to a child. The goon nodded and a noise behind Phantom almost made him take his focus off of his message, but he pushed it away, still feeling strangely tingly from whatever the Scarecrow had dosed him with.

“Good. You tell your boss that this daycare- that Danny Nightingale- is protected. If I catch so much as a whiff of a plot against this place or that man, I’ll hunt you and your friends down and show you just how scary I can be, got it?” His fangs, pointed ears, and bluish skin had become more prominent throughout the years and while he was certainly humanoid, he was quite alien looking. It scared people.

The goon nodded, terrified, and Phantom dropped him. The moment he hit the ground he was running. 

Phantom dusted his hands off and turned to Red Hood only to find Batman and Robin also standing behind him. “Oh, hi.” He smiled, waving awkwardly.

“Who are you?” Batman demanded.

Cocking his head to the side in consideration, Phantom tried to focus through the strange(ly good) feeling coursing through his body. “I’m Phantom. Who are you?”

It was clearly not what Batman expected him to say. Of course Phantom knew who Batman was, but he didn’t want to give the idea that he’d researched Gotham, that he was from Gotham. Hopefully this would be one of the only times he’d be needed as Phantom while living here and  they could all forget this happened.

Red Hood chuckled. “Damn Old man, losing your touch.”

“Hood.” Batman deadpanned.

“Like the Red Hood?” Phantom asked innocently.

They all looked at him oddly. He recognized Red Hood but not Batman? Once Hood nodded, Phantom took the opportunity to finally thank the man for all he’d done for his people.

“Damn, you’re even hotter in person.” He smirked.

“Huh?” Hood blue screened.

Batman tried to cut in. “Phantom-”

Phantom began floating, leaning back casually and placing his hands behind his head. “I’ve already left you speechless, huh? Listen, Hood, I’ve gotta thank you, honestly.”

“What is happening?” Robin hissed under his breath. Batman seemed just as at a loss as Robin. Even Hood didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

“Let me re-introduce myself.” Phantom smiled at the group sweetly. “I’m Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms, Defeater of Pariah Dark, and Bringer of Peace. And you, Red Hood, are known throughout the realms as the Avenger of the Dead.” He could practically hear Hood’s jaw dropping. “My people speak highly of you and I’ve always wanted an excuse to visit Gotham to thank you, formally, for all you’ve done for my people.” He’d stopped floating after citing his title and letting his kingly regalia appear but now he was bowing at the waist to the Red Hood.

“Uh- wha-”

“You’re thanking him for murder?” Robin asked, voice strained.

Straightening out, Phantom noted the discomfort in Batman’s stance. “I’m thanking him for avenging innocent people. My people.” Turning back to Hood, Phantom offered him a little card. “This is my personal summoning circle, call me if you ever want to get coffee, hot stuff.” He winked and faded into invisibility just as the police barged through the front doors, leaving behind a very confused crime lord (who he suspected was blushing) and two vigilantes.

Oh yeah, that was more fun than he’d imagined.

~~~

The rest of the night was long and testing and Danny just wanted to go home. The parents who’d come to pick up their kids were in a panic, everyone wanted to question Danny, and Red Hood had run off before they’d been able to talk. To be fair, the vigilante had tried to get Danny’s attention multiple times but he’d been busy making sure each parent got their kid, the police got their statement, and Duke knew he was to take the next week off to recover.

He’d spoken to Batman which was cool sort of, and after alerting the boys that he’d be home very late that night, cleaned up what he could before going on his way. Lady Fate was cruel for piling the frustrations on top of each other that day, but even she wasn’t cruel enough to keep him from his bed and a nice long night of (probably lying in bed being unable to) sleep. Right?

It’s like he was jinxing himself or something. Clockwork had to be watching and laughing right now, right?

Riding the elevator up to his apartment- yes he could fly, but he was honestly exhausted after the crash that came after whatever tingly high he’d gotten from the Scarecrow fear toxin- and he just wanted to drag himself to his apartment slowly and painstakingly before collapsing. He checked his messages on the ride up.

Miguel had texted to confirm Danny’s late arrival home tonight (literally just a thumbs up emoji, apparently he was still upset with Danny for whatever reason), Dani had texted to inform him she’d be spending the night at Jazz’s, Tucker had sent him a meme about the Gotham vigilantes, and Santiago had texted him-

His blood ran cold- well, colder than it usually was- as he read the boys message. It had come through only three minutes before.

Santi: Danny please come home

Santi: Miguel needs help

Santi: He won’t let me outta the closet

Saying fuck it, Danny turned intangible and flew through the remaining floors and landing on his floor. He was stopped in his tracks by a man leaning heavily against the boys apartment door and shouting through it.

“Get the fuck out ‘ere! You worthless good-for-nothin’ kids!” The man slurred. “Mick! Santi! Get yer sorry assess out ‘ere! You know ‘ow hard I ‘ad ta look for ya?”

Danny grabbed the man's shoulder with inhuman strength and wrenched him away from the boy's apartment, putting himself between them. “Who the fuck are you?” Danny asked, letting his anger seep out, the hallway growing colder.

The man gave Danny an unimpressed look. “This is whoya been kissin’ up to? Huh?” He shouted past Danny and towards the apartment. “How’re you payin’ ‘im, eh Mick?” His voice grew suggestive as he looked Danny up and down. “Payin’ ‘im like ya did the las’ one?”

It was growing obvious that the man was inebriated, though Danny wasn’t going to let that excuse his behavior. It also seemed, the man knew Miguel and Santi and Danny shuddered to think he might be their father. “Listen buddy.” Danny grit his teeth. “You’re trespassing. Leave, before I call the cops.”

“Ha- cops? YOU’RE holdin’ MY kids captive! I should call the cops myself!” The man stepped closer, towering over Danny and definitely believing himself to be intimidating. “‘M sure you can find some other street kids ta get you off.” He offered suggestively. “My boys’re mine. I’ll fergive ya this once fer borrowing them- I know ‘ow temptin’ they can be- ‘specially Mick. ‘e’s got a mouth on ‘im-”

That’s when Danny’s patience ran out. He didn’t realize it until his fist had met the other man's jaw, leaving him doing the towering. He didn’t remember it- not really. One moment he felt his fist connect with the man’s face and the next someone had wrapped their arms around his torso and began dragging him away from an unconscious body. Someone was crying- someone was shouting.

Someone was threatening my kid.

It was the only thought he’d remembered from during the altercation. Although, altercation implied it was two sided, by the look of the man’s completely smashed and bloody face, it had not been two sided. 

“Calm down, Danny, you’re okay, the boys are okay- the boys are okay.” The voice repeated over and over again, trapping him close to their body and taking each elbow to the face or ribs while Danny tried to get away before coming back to himself.

His heart rate had been through the roof and after coming back to awareness, Danny felt exhaustion overtaking his body. His eyelids drooped as his body sank back into whoever was holding him. Someone was still crying.

Eyes flying open, Danny sat up, prying the man’s arms off of him, and moving towards the sound of the crying.

“Danny- don’t.” 

That was when he recognized the voice and finally listened to it. 

“You need to clean up before going in there.” Hood said, gently but firmly.

Why? Why did he- his eyes landed on the hand he’d placed on the doorknob. It was covered in blood- none if it was his. Lifting his other hand, Danny found it in a similar condition and understood. He’d just beaten Miguel and Santiago’s dad within an inch of his life while both boys were on the other side of a very thin door. Sniffling from the other side of the door alerted Danny that the person who’d been crying was Miguel.

Locking his jaw, Danny nodded sharply, twice, before turning and going to his apartment without so much as looking at Hood. The sooner he cleaned the blood off his hands and changed into clean clothes, the sooner he could see if the boys were okay.

Danny didn’t like what he saw in the mirror- and not in the teenage-angst-and-insecurity kind of way, but in the face-covered-in-my-kids’-dad’s-blood kind of way. His hair was crusty with it- how hard did he hit the guy? Thinking back, he was relieved to find he didn’t use any of his ghost strength and the man would (probably ((unfortunately))) recover.

It was the fastest shower Danny had ever taken. Tearing his hands through his hair to get the blood out, scrubbing down his hands and face, he couldn’t get done quick enough. Slipping on sweatpants and an oversized hoodie he didn’t remember owning, Danny made his way into the hall. He was surprised to find it empty, lacking both Hood and the body but shrugged it off and calmly opened the apartment.

“-thing’s gonna be okay. You did the right thing, kid.” He heard Hood saying. But it wasn’t the familiar modulated voice Danny had grown accustomed to- it was the voice that’d asked him ‘how old were you?’ the voice that asked ‘you died and came back wrong?’ a voice that was calm, collected, reassuring.

“He’s not gonna be angry at me?” Came Miguel’s sniffled response.

Before Hood could answer, Danny stepped into the living room. “Are you okay?” He asked, trying to hide how frantically he’d like to be looking over the boy. He kept his distance. He’d just beaten his kids’ dad- almost to death- with only a thin door separating them. He wouldn’t be surprised if Miguel never wanted to see him again.

Even if his dad was a shitbag.

Miguel nodded, hesitantly. “I’m sorry- I shoulda told you-” The boy was clearly trying not to cry again, his entire frame was shaking and he looked tiny standing beside Hood.

Sensing that Miguel wasn’t angry at him, but rather, thought it’d be the other way around, Danny shoved past the vigilante and pulled the boy into his arms. “Oh my Ancients- you have nothing to apologize for, Miguel. Are you okay?” He pulled back, sizing the boy up. He had a quickly forming black eye and a split lip, his clothes were ruffled, but otherwise he looked physically okay.

“‘M okay.” He confirmed shakily. 

Danny felt another body press against his and found Santi pushing himself between them and burying his face in Danny’s stomach. He could feel Hood’s eyes tracking their movements, but for once, his mind barely registered the vigilante. “Are you okay, Santi?”

The boy nodded silently, wrapping his arms around Danny. “You got my texts.” He states, voice muffled by Danny’s sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner.” Danny said softly, holding Miguel close with one arm and Santi with the other.

“I shoulda told you- I knew- ‘e found somma my buddies,” Miguel sniffled, unable to meet Danny’s eyes. “‘E asked ‘em where I was an’ they warned me ‘bout it.”

Danny shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Miguel.”

“I shouldn’ta said all those things this mornin’!” He cried. “I din’t mean it! Please don’ be mad at me!” The teenager buried his face in Danny’s shoulder which grew wet quickly.

A voice cut through Danny’s thoughts. “I’m going to head out, I’ve taken care of everything, text me if you need me.” Hood said calmly from the window sill. Before Danny could mention you never gave me your phone number how on this Earth would he text the vigilante the man had slipped out the window and grappled away. What did he mean he’d taken care of everything? 

Sniffling cut off that line of thinking and Danny steered the boys to the couch. “Come here.” He said, pulling both boys down after him and holding them closely, in a way he hoped was comforting. In the way Jazz always held him after a nightmare. “You’re okay, I’ve got you both. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” He soothed, running one hand through Miguel’s hair gently and the other across Santiago’s back. 

“I’m sorry.” Miguel said between little gasps for air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Danny mumbled, continuing his gentle ministrations. “I’ve got you both.” He felt them both growing stiller and stiller. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Prev. Next

[honeyjars-sims]

3.18 Forward Momentum

Chantal had invited Johnny to go to the gym with her, which both of them were starting to regret. She’d dragged him to every machine in the building and he had a complaint about all of them.

The treadmill gave him motion sickness. The stationary bike “makes me feel like I’m cycling towards nothing.” Now he was sitting on the workout machine scrolling on his phone.

“If you’re not going to work out, then get off the machine,” Chantal complained.

“Great idea!” Johnny stood up and started walking off.

“Wait!” Chantal shouted. “I thought you were trying to be more active?”

“I am, but the gym is boring. I can’t just stay in one spot. I need movement!”

“You don’t seem to mind being still when you’re looking at your phone.”

“That’s different. Anyway, there are other ways to be active other than the gym, you know.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“I know, and I appreciate it," Johnny said apologetically. "It’s just not for me.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for giving it a try. How are things at home?”

Johnny sighed. Things were better, he supposed. His dads seemed pleased with how well he was performing at his job. He’d been too tired to go out to the club, and the idea didn’t seem particularly appealing these days anyway.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. No one was arguing anymore, but were they actually happy?

“It’s ok,” he told her. “I got Taco a laser pointer and she’s obsessed. She tries so hard to catch it. It's so cute."

“You and that cat!” Chantal grinned. “I’m glad you have her. I hope you’re making actual human friends, though.”

“I am,” Johnny assured her. “Everyone at work is really nice.”

“I’m sure they are, but you should hang out with people outside of work hours, too. Even if it’s your coworkers. It’ll be good for you, I think.”

“Probably. I’ll think about it,” he promised. “There are a lot of cute girls there."

Chantal groaned. "Trust me, you don't want to get involved with someone you work with! Are you even ready to date right now?"

Johnny shrugged. "I didn't say anything about dating, I was just making an observation. But if I make some new friends and it ends up leading to something more, I'm cool with that. Anyway, what's up with you? Are you still hanging out with Kayla?”

“Yeah. Not as much since school started back, though.”

“Is school going okay?”

“I guess so. Do you regret dropping out? I mean, you found a pretty good job without it.”

Johnny felt a bit of a pang at the question. Maybe he didn't need university to be successful, but the memory of the people he’d met there and how he quit so abruptly still pained him. “Sometimes. But I wasn’t really in a good frame of mind when I did it.”

“I guess that’s right. I just keep wondering if I really need a degree to achieve my dreams.”

“Sounds like you and Cece are in the same boat. Imagine our dads reactions if all three of their kids drop out of school!”

“Maybe we’ll all get rich and we can pay them back.”

“I think the endorphins are getting to your head.”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

Author's note: The next post will be written in first person from Johnny's perspective! Something I'm trying out.

[heartseungs-archive]

love.fm | h.rj

genre ❥ fluff, angst, coworkers to lovers  pairings ❥ radio show host!renjun x fem!reader  word count ❥ 7.2k   warnings ❥ none author’s note ❥ had this sitting in my wip for a while after rewatching renra on akdong seoul....just thought it would be a really cute idea!!

My love's so young, I'm young, at a sweet age I can't only look at you

As the ‘ON AIR’ sign flickers to life, you pick up the familiar pair of headphones at your seat, colourful stickers decorating the headband to separate it from the rest. The other guys at the station don’t particularly mind sharing headphones, but you find having a personalized one more enjoyable.

Seulgi, your program director, stands behind the glass wall, flashing a thumbs up from where she’s comfortably nestled in her chair. Jeno is just beside her, but he’s much more focused on the music controls, ensuring that it’s broadcasting smoothly. There’s a teleprompter in front of you, but you know you won’t need it. You’ll probably go off script anyways.

Which is why your partner flashes a warning glance at you, and you simply grin. He’s the one who keeps track of time and attempts to stick to Seulgi’s meticulously planned program sheets, reigning you in when you go off tangents.

Huang Renjun has been your partner host for the past year, and the both of you make a good team. A wonderful team, actually, if the listener numbers are anything to go off by. You know it’s partially luck that the both of you got an interesting show to helm, but surely part of it is due to your efforts as well.

Renjun’s dressed in a comfortable black hoodie today, already wearing his reading glasses as he looks over the script. You had teased him for his poor eyesight until he finally caved and bought the white frames that now rest comfortably on his nose.

A cue from Seulgi jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly take a sip of water before turning on the microphone. Renjun flashes an encouraging smile at you, even though it’s practically routine at this point.

“Welcome to The Love Club, where we provide a solution towards each and every dilemma you have about romance. It’s your favourite DJ, Y/N, along with Ren-D. I hope your Friday is going good, dear listener, so grab a cup of tea and let us accompany you until midnight!” The words flow out of your mouth smoothly, from weeks upon weeks of practice. Even then, the rush of excitement that fills you each time you speak into the microphone still remains as new as the first day you stepped into the studio.

“Thank you to everyone who sent in their stories! Today, we’ll be discussing the topic of first loves. Our first story is from user jiyeonluv.”

Dear Ren-D and Y/N-D,

I’m Jiyeon, a high-school student. I have a crush on someone in my school, and I really, really like them. But we’re graduating already, and I think we’ll be going to different universities. Should I pursue him?

You hum gently, thinking over your reply. The letter causes a fond smile to make its way onto your face, just from how adorable it is. “I think you should go for it. After all, if both of you really like each other, it’s possible. Besides, it’s better to try and be rejected, rather than not and worry about the what ifs.”

Renjun nods. “Besides, I heard long-distance relationships are the trend now,” he adds.

“I’m not sure where Renjun gets his trends from, considering he barely uses the internet,” you contradict, and Renjun scoffs slightly. “However, I hope everything goes well for you, user jiyeonluv! On that note, the first song of today that we’ll be playing is Young Luv by STAYC.”

“Good job today,” you say, and Renjun quickly returns your tired grin. He pushes open the glass door, you following behind him. Your tote bag lies on the shelf outside the office along with your sneakers, and you quickly put your shoes on, smartphone in hand.

Seulgi and Jeno wave goodbye to you as you leave, both of them already preparing for the next programme. Their schedules run a bit differently from yours and Renjun’s, considering they manage the night programmes until two in the morning. You wouldn’t be surprised if the both of them were almost nocturnal at this point.

The hallway is dim at this time of night, the broadcasting station void of much activity except for the room you just exited. However, there are still footsteps here and there, likely from interns or security patrolling the building.

It’s a short walk from your studio to the carpark, but you’re already shivering by the time you exit the building. It’s coming to fall, and the leaves are already transitioning to shades of autumnal red and yellow.

It’s quickly halted by the feeling of a jacket over your shoulders, however, and you quickly look up at Renjun, a silent protest in your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a hoodie on. You, on the other hand, should really start remembering to bring your own jacket.”

“I don’t need to, when you lend me one anyways,” you reply, and he huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

However, you’re quick to move your hands towards the heating vents of Renjun’s car once you’re inside, sinking into the plush leather seats comfortably.

“You don’t need to send me back, you know. The public buses are still running,” you mutter, your breath fogging up the window. You draw a smiley face on it absentmindedly, watching as the cityscape flies by.

“It’s not that safe. Besides, you’re on the way anyways.” Renjun’s lying, because you know where he lives, and it is most definitely not on the way. In fact, it’s likely added an extra fifteen minutes to his journey home, but you’re not going to protest with him further, especially when the rides are in your benefit.

Even though the both of you are able to continue an entertaining banter throughout the entirety of the radio program, you and Renjun seem to lapse more into silence once alone, likely due to fatigue as well. You suppose it’s also due to the fact that there’s not much need for words to be exchanged for you to feel comfortable in Renjun’s presence, him focused on the road and you with…well, nothing exactly. The drive is always a good time for you to clear your mind, considering Renjun’s careful enough and you completely trust him to get you back home safe.

“See you tomorrow,” he says once the both of you are in front of your apartment building and you wave to him before stepping out onto the pavement, watching as his car gradually disappears down the winding path.

When you reach home, you’re quick to fall into bed, already exhausted. You’ll shower tomorrow, you think, but for now, what you need is a good night’s sleep.

“Well, someone looks cranky.”

“Shut up, Haechan.”

“Even I don’t mess with Jaemin, Haechan. You should be careful,” Mark says, and Jaemin just nods. Haechan sighs dramatically, sinking back into the chair, and his antics are the first thing you see when you step into the office.

“Well, I hope no one’s cranky after what I bought,” you announce, paper bags with recognizable green logos in your hands. Jaemin immediately perks up, looking at you gratefully.

“You’re so much better than Haechan,” he says, a sound of indignance coming from the other boy at his statement.

“Eight shots for you- I don’t know how you actually drink that, by the way, an iced tea for Mark and a latte for Hyuck.” The boys mutter soft thank yous as they take the cups from you, leaving two inside. Your caramel macchiato, and someone else’s-

“Speak of the devil.” Renjun is quick to grab his drink from your outstretched hand, raising a brow at you. It takes a while for you to realise you said it out loud, and your cheeks turn red, quickly shaking your head. “I was just wondering where you were, and you walked in right after,” you explain, and he nods, stealing a sip of your drink before he goes to his seat. You’re used to it at this point, even if Renjun has already gotten his own cold brew. You had been the one to persuade the boy into trying your macchiato a few months ago, to no little amount of effort. After a while, he had caved, but Renjun would never admit that he liked your drink more than his own.

“Today’s meeting is quite important, which is why I asked you guys to meet early.”

“At nine in the morning, no less,” Jaemin mumbles, and there’s barely audible laughter from the other two boys in the room. You had been wondering why Mark had texted the groupchat asking all of you to come down to the office early.

This morning, you had stumbled out of bed groggily when your alarm awoke you, running to the bathroom when you realised you might be late. The coffee had simultaneously been an apology and a distraction, but it ended up not mattering as much, since Renjun had arrived later than you.

“We need to discuss our plans for the second half of the year. If you guys want to revamp your programmes, change something about it, or anything.”

Haechan raises his hand quickly. “I think 37.5MHz should be extended to four hours.”

“No one wants to hear you talk for four hours, Haechan,” Renjun replies, and Haechan looks at him incredulously.

“Just because you can’t appreciate the masterpiece that is my voice, doesn’t mean others won’t-”

“Let’s stay focused, guys,” Mark reminds, but even he’s struggling slightly to maintain a serious expression on his face. The five of you are already familiar with each other at this point, being the ones to host the weekday special programs.

Mark’s in charge of the broadcast from ten in the morning to noon, his programme aptly titled Mark’s Music Space. You had come up with it at a meeting once, and he ended up liking it a lot more than you expected.

At two, Jaemin’s the one in the studio, a cup of coffee always by his side. Which is accurate, you suppose, since his entire programme is cafe-themed. He’s the one in charge of curating most of the playlists for the station, considering how well-versed the boy is in picking songs based on the mood.

Haechan takes over at five with 37.5Mhz, brightening the natural lull of the afternoons with his cheery personality. The boy runs it almost like a podcast at this point, often spending more time chatting than playing music. Still, if his ratings are anything to go by, you suppose there is an audience that he appeals to.

And then at nine, it’s you and Renjun’s turn, with Love.fm. The most interesting program, in your opinion, but you’ll never tell the other guys that, because they’ll definitely begin arguing with you incessantly. Still, you’re proud of how much work you and Renjun have put in, taking hours to plan out your themes and filtering through the listeners’ letters personally.

“Y/N, Renjun. Anything you guys want to change?” You look up at Mark, shaking your head. “I’m happy with the program.” “Me too,” Renjun replies, and you grin at him.

Jaemin lets out a slight chuckle, Haechan right after him, and you cast a pointed glance at the two. “What?” Jaemin quickly shakes his head, expression becoming blank once again. “Nothing.”

You look at Mark’s hesitant expression, and decide to just bite the bullet. “Mark, what is it?” The boy’s expression is stricken as he meets your gaze, and he coughs slightly before continuing. “Oh..um…I was gonna ask if you and Renjun wanted to make Love.fm a viewable broadcast.”

”Why don’t I get a viewable broadcast?”

“Because you post everything on your Instagram already. If I was your fan, I wouldn’t want to see your face anymore,” Jaemin responds, and Haechan huffs petulantly.

“Like….a live stream?” Renjun asks hesitantly, and Mark nods. “Yeah. Your program is already so popular, and I think a lot of the listeners are quite curious about what you guys look like. It would be a good idea for publicity. Of course, you don’t have to do a viewable one every day, it could be once a week, or something,” he explains, and you consider the idea briefly. It isn’t a bad one. You’re not someone who’s particularly afraid of the camera, and neither is Renjun. The idea’s almost exciting, the fact that you and Renjun are something like mini-celebrities because of your programme.

“I’m down if Renjun is,” you say, smiling, and Mark looks relieved, turning to your partner. “Sure,” Renjun says, and Mark claps his hands together. “Great! We can do the first one on Monday? For everyone else, Seulgi’s also discussing with the publicity team about getting us to film additional content, so I’ll keep you guys updated on that.”

You realise now that this is likely Seulgi’s idea, and it makes sense, really. When you had first started the job, you hadn’t expected the listeners to show so much support for their show hosts. Jaemin, Haechan and Mark have something of their own following as well. The five of you have potential as media personalities, and it's obvious that Seulgi’s making good use of it.

“Want to get breakfast?” Renjun asks, leaning over to your seat. “Yes please, I’m starving.” You grab your things and follow him out, waving goodbye to the others in the room.

As you pass by the recording studio, you hear faint voices filtering out of the room.

“Welcome to Chenji’s this….”

“And that!” You immediately recognize Jisung’s baritone and see the two younger boys inside, already rehearsing for their show. “They’ve improved a lot,” you comment, a fond smile on your face as you watch the two.

“I remember when they first joined. Jisung couldn’t even say one sentence without stuttering,” Renjun adds, and you let out a soft giggle. “Well, it’s thanks to you that he’s so good now. Don’t act like you didn’t stay up practising with him.” Renjun’s cheeks redden at your comment, but you know it’s true. Despite his colder exterior, Renjun is caring to the ones closest to him, and has a soft spot for the nervous youngest. It’s something you’ve noticed about him after spending so much time together, his quiet acts of service.

“What are you thinking about?” Renjun asks as the both of you step out into the bright morning sunlight. He looks nice today, brown corduroy jacket over a white shirt and jeans.

“I like your outfit today,” you comment, not catching the way Renjun’s breath hitches, his pulse speeding up just barely.

“Are you just saying this because you want the jacket?”

“No promises.”

When I see you happy Naturally, I'm laughing along I get excited by your actions and toss and turn

Technically, you shouldn’t even be nervous. But you can’t shake the tension that grips you, despite the two cups of hot chamomile that you’ve already consumed. It’s okay, you tell yourself. Today is like any other broadcast, Y/N.

“We just hit fifty thousand listeners,” Seulgi announces, and you sigh shakily, hearing Mark let out a low whistle at the news. You take it back. Today isn’t like any other broadcast. That’s close to double your usual number. Your train of thoughts- more like a nervous trainwreck at this point, really- is brought to a halt by the feeling of a warm hand on yours.

“You okay?” Renjun asks, his gaze warm, and you feel your heartrate slow down slightly. It’s not that you don’t want this- you’re quite excited, to be honest, but there’s also a little fear at the viewers’ reactions.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he continues, out of earshot of the people outside. However, you’re quick to pull yourself out of it, shaking your head at Renjun. His concerned gaze doesn’t leave your figure, but you smile at him reassuringly.

“I’m fine. Ready as ever. Seulgi, shall we start?” You ask, and she nods, turning on the cameras. There’s a screen in front of you that shows the comments, but you decide not to look, instead focusing on your script and the camera.

“Hello, everyone! Today is a very special day. As you can see, Ren-D and I are meeting everyone for the first time via live stream.” Renjun waves shyly at that, and you automatically grin, nervousness easing slightly as you fall back into the routine of hosting.

“I feel like someone doing a face reveal,” Renjun points out, and you laugh slightly. “Yeah, me too. Honestly, I was so nervous.”

You’re feeling much better now, and it feels like any other evening in the broadcasting studio, Renjun next to you, script in hand.

“Let me read out our first letter today, from user tyongya.”

Dear Y/N-D and Ren-D,

You have no idea how excited I was for the broadcast today! I wrote this letter because I’ve been in a relationship with someone for two years, but we haven’t told each other we love each other yet. What is love to the both of you?

Thank you for this program, and I’m cheering both of you on!

“Oh…” you trail off as you think over your reply, head tilted. “Wow, that’s a big question,” Renjun comments, and you nod.

“I think love is wanting to see the other person happy, no matter what. Like, seeing them smile makes you smile too. That’s the simplest way I can put it,” you finally state, and Renjun makes a sound of agreement.

“Y/N said it well. If I love someone, I think I would place their happiness above my own. Personally, I would say that loving someone means that being with them makes you want to be a better person, both for them and for yourself.” Renjun’s looking at you as he says it, and his voice takes on a noticeably softer tone. You’re suddenly unable to look at him for some reason, gaze darting downwards to your script nervously.

Once you regain your composure, you continue, even though the back of your neck still feels warm for some reason.

“Yes, don’t forget that self-love is important too, guys,” you say, and Renjun chuckles, causing you to inevitably let out a laugh of your own as well. He’s smiling brightly, and you’re not sure whether it’s because of the excitement of doing a live video broadcast, but you can’t hold back the wide grin that appears resolutely on your features as well.

“Now, our next song is Love, Maybe by Melomance. User tyongya, this is for you. We hope you find love soon!”

“I knew you would recommend Love, Maybe,” Renjun says, a teasing smirk on his face. “It’s a good song!” you defend, and he doesn’t reply, causing you to jab him softly with your elbow.

“Say it’s a good song, or I won’t stop playing it in the car,” you threaten, leaning towards him until your faces are close. Renjun leans back playfully, away from you, and you only lean closer, eyes questioning.

Until your headphone wire gets caught, causing you to stumble forward into his chair. Renjun’s quick to catch you, and you turn to look at him, only realising your faces are a hair’s breadth away from each other when it’s too late.

You’re quite sure you’ve stopped breathing as you look into Renjun’s wide eyes. It seems like forever before he quickly regains his senses and puts some distance between the both of you, standing up from his chair and letting out a nervous cough.

You’re still in a daze, cheeks already reddening with their familiar flush.

”Guys, good job on the broadcast today- are you two alright?” Seulgi glances confusedly at the both of you as she steps in, and Renjun is the first to respond.

“Yeah…we’re fine. What did you say?” He asks, and Seulgi looks rather doubtful, even as she grins at the both of you.

“We broke our viewer record today. And you guys should see the comments,” she adds, handing the both of you her laptop. You scroll absentmindedly, taking a while to focus. There are thousands of them, coming in at a mile a minute even though the broadcast’s over.

Wow….the both of them look exactly how they sound. And I love their voices, so that speaks for itself.

Y/N looks like she could be a celebrity! And Renjun too.

It’s hard to conceal your happy smile at the positive comments, even if it’s shallow to care about your appearance. Renjun catches your eyes, and the previous tension seems to be dispelled. You continue scrolling down, not entirely ready for the next barrage of comments.

The more I think about it, Renjun and Y/N look so good together.

These two are so compatible…I wonder if they’re dating?

Wouldn’t it be so cute if they were a couple? They even run Love.fm together…it’s like something out of a fiction book.

You cough abruptly, cheeks flushing as Seulgi looks at you, concerned. Renjun seems to have noticed them too, handing the laptop back and averting his gaze from where you’re standing. You hear the door open, and realise the midnight news broadcast must be starting soon.

“Right, you guys must be tired. Go home and rest,” she nags, almost pushing the both of you out of the recording studio. You don’t even bother to resist her, thoughts hung up on the comments from the listeners.

There’s an awkward silence that hangs over you and Renjun as the both of you leave the company building, and you fiddle with your fingers, unsure of what to say. It continues even as you enter the car, and Renjun seems to feel it too, for he immediately plays music the moment the both of you get in.

You lean your head against the headrest, occasionally taking quick glances at Renjun when you think he isn’t looking. It makes you feel nervous somehow, as if you’re doing something you shouldn’t.

His profile is soft under the streetlights, silver hair shining brightly even in the darkness. You remember when he had first walked in with it, and you stared at him open-mouthed in shock. It was such a stark contrast from his previous raven black hair, and yet seemed to make his features glow even brighter. The thought makes your heart flutter against your own will. You’re bewildered at the strange feeling, and yet can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the boy.

“You’re staring. Is something wrong?” Renjun’s direct question causes you to sit up immediately, heart rate stumbling. “Nope, nothing,” you stutter out, stubbornly turning your gaze out the car window, just in time for you to miss the amused smile on Renjun’s face.

“Y/N, wait.” Your hand is on the car handle when Renjun halts you outside your apartment building. You turn back to look at him, tote bag already in your grasp. “What is it?” The silver-haired boy falls silent at that, seeming to hesitate over something. You’re patient, however, leaning back into the seat just as you recognise the next song that has started playing through his car speakers.

I'm gettin' really tired of this back and forth Why don't we just give in to this driving force? I mean, there's somethin' between us

The lyrics make your brain short-circuit, and you can’t help but interpret them in the context of the situation, filling your heart with a heady sort of hope as you look at Renjun. It feels like you’re wading into unfamiliar waters, but something tells you to keep going.

“You did well today.”

“Huh?” You’re brought back down to reality, Renjun’s words grounding you.

”You were nervous, but you got through it. I’m proud of you. That’s what I wanted to say, I guess,” he mumbles, and the words are sweet, warming your heart.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting,” you say reflexively, and he turns to you. “Were you expecting something else?” His gaze is strangely searching as he turns to you, almost as if he’s silently beseeching you to say something else as well. However, you’re seized by nerves, and quickly shake your head.

“No, nothing. Thank you, Renjun. You did well today too. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Even then, you feel a sense of disappointment, but you can’t possibly blame him for your own overactive imagination. It must be the comments getting to your head, you think, as you step out of the car and Renjun waves to you.

Still, you can’t shake the thought of Renjun being more to you, of the both of you being more than just colleagues and friends. It’s never been something that’s come to mind, and yet made glaringly obvious by the events of today. The way you are starting to find it harder to let your eyes stray from his features, the drives home with him becoming the most treasured moments of your day.

The answer’s simple, really. Stupidly simple that you should have figured it out a long time ago, considering the fact that the both of you run a romance advisory programme. You have feelings for Renjun. Not-so-platonic feelings, if the speeding up of your heartbeat in the past few days are any indication.

You only remember the second half of the lyrics when you’re on your sofa, the lyrics of the song that was playing in Renjun’s car.

If I'm on your mind You know that you're on my mind I don't want to fall in love alone

“I don’t want to fall in love alone either,” you say to no one in particular, the only accompaniment being the four walls of your studio apartment. You’re at a loss on what to do with Renjun, haunted by both the endless possibilities and the fear of rejection.

Love is hard when it comes to Renjun, and you’re not sure if all your experience with hosting will have any use.

It’s two days before Renjun sees you in the studio again. On Tuesday, he had been waiting for you outside, before Seulgi had fired a quick text saying you had called in sick.

When you were absent from your seat beside him on Wednesday, there had been a foreign feeling of emptiness in the studio, compounded by the fact that you had yet to reply Renjun’s messages. Even then, he tries to make the program as engaging as possible, assuming that you’re home resting.

It’s not the same, no matter how hard he tries. It’s not the same without you.

By the time you step into the recording booth, Renjun’s positively overcome with worry, ready to jump out of his seat and hug you at the sight of you well and alive. However, he’s not sure if it will overwhelm you. He decides to force himself to stay where he is, fiddling anxiously with his fingers as his eyes follow you around the room. You smile pensively at him when you catch his gaze. In truth, you hadn’t been sick. You were just scared of seeing Renjun, especially immediately after being confronted with the weight of your new feelings.

The introduction passes as usual, and you put in extra effort to make your voice bright and cheery after your absence, knowing that the listeners must have missed you. Even then, Renjun can detect a note of artificiality in your voice, almost as if you’re deliberately trying to present yourself that way. Maybe you’re still feeling sick, he thinks, and feels a pang of guilt for hounding you with his messages. However, he already has medicine in his bag, and a heat pack for you later, just to make sure you recover as quickly as possible.

You’re less talkative than usual today, giving short replies outside of the programme itself. Renjun tries not to let it unnerve him, but he’s not sure how to reach out to you.

“Renjun, can you read the next letter, please?” You ask cheerfully, the way your emotions switch up from lethargic to energetic becoming rather disarming to him. “Oh yes, of course,” he says, panicking slightly as he fumbles with his script, lost in thought.

Dear Ren-D and Y/N-D,

Hello! I’m not sure if you can call me a regular listener, but I’m very familiar with this program. I wrote this letter because of a very big dilemma I have. I think I have feelings for a good friend of mine, who also happens to be a colleague. But confessing might make our relationship awkward, and I don’t want to ruin it for us. At the same time, my feelings are so strong that I don’t know what to do with them.

“This is from user caramelmacchiato,” Renjun adds at the end, and you’re awfully silent as he looks at you, waiting to see if you’ll reply first. When you don’t speak after a while, he decides to go first.

“I think you should go for it,” he encourages, and the only thing he hears from you is a sharp inhale, causing Renjun to furrow his brows in concern.

“Often, we don’t have control over what we feel, or the people we like. I think it’s better to confess first. If he’s really someone you like that much, I’m sure he’s a good person who will understand your emotions, and the friendship won’t break apart that easily,” he continues, and you’re staring at Renjun now, a stricken expression on your face.

“And…for all you know, user caramelmacchiato, your friend just might like you back too.” Renjun’s mouth tilts up in a grin as he says it, his heart fluttering strangely for some reason. It definitely doesn’t help that your gaze is riveted on him, and Renjun runs a hand through his hair self-consciously. You’ve always made him nervous, even if you’ve known him for more than a year.

He quickly remembers that the both of you are on live broadcast, however, Seulgi and Jeno still watching. “Y/N?” he asks, and you shake your head as if clearing your mind from a fog.

“Oh, yes. Good luck, um…user caramelmacchiato.” Your voice is slightly high-pitched and squeaky, and it’s obvious you’re nervous, though Renjun can’t think of a reason why.

“As the night comes to a close, we have one last song for you. This is Fall in Love Alone by Stacey Ryan. Goodnight everyone!” You successfully bring the programme to a finale, and Jeno ends the broadcast.

Renjun’s quick to grab his things and make his way over to you, but you’re two steps ahead of him, almost jumping out of your chair once the microphone is off. He stares at you from where he is, and sees the same confused expression on Seulgi’s face. It’s unlike you to simply just up and leave, especially when Renjun is the one sending you home. And he doubts you have plans after midnight.

When he enters the hallway, there’s no sign of you, and Renjun worries his lip in frustration. He’s not stupid. There must be something wrong, somewhere. He thinks back to each of his interactions with you over the past week, picking each of them apart moment by moment in his brain.

The both of you had called to discuss the live broadcast four days ago, and ended up watching a movie together. And then it was the broadcast itself, where he sent you home afterwards. Where he had been so close to saying something that was on the tip of his tongue, but didn’t.

The next two days, you had disappeared without contact while you were sick.

There had to be something he was missing.

Maybe Saturday? But nothing happened other than the morning meeting. When the both of you had gotten breakfast after you bought him a matcha latte and got yourself a…

“Oh God,” he mutters to himself, the puzzle pieces falling into place. It’s not an entirely plausible idea, and Renjun’s pretty sure he’s making connections based on pure gut feeling. Still, it’s too much of a coincidence. Or maybe it isn’t. The way you’re acting, the song that you chose today to finish the broadcast, they fill Renjun’s heart with just the tiniest bit of hope.

He really has to find you now.

Renjun’s grateful he wore his better pair of sneakers today as he rushes out of the building, eyes scanning the place for your familiar figure.

It’s almost a solid five minutes of his heartbeat thundering in his ears until he spots you, walking in the direction of the intersection, and then he’s running.

Renjun reaches you right as the light turns green, grabbing your hand and causing you to spin around in shock. You’ve got your headphones on, and the sudden disturbance leaves your eyes wide in shock. You don’t even resist as Renjun drags you to a bench, motioning for you to sit next to him.

You guessed he would ask about your odd behaviour eventually. You just didn’t expect it to be so soon. The area is deserted except for the both of you, and Renjun’s still slightly out of breath as he sits next to you.

You don’t dare to look at him. It’s a cloudless day today, and you can see clearly even though there’s barely any lighting, thanks to the moon.

“Well, I’m sure you have something to say-” you start, but you’re quickly cut off by Renjun.

“User caramelmacchiato. That’s you, isn’t it?” His question causes your heart to stutter to a stop, and you’re hoping you heard him wrong. Still, the resounding silence tells you that you heard him exactly.

Honestly, you should probably have picked a better username. You’re kicking yourself for it now, realising you overlooked Renjun’s natural knack for observation. Your silence makes it obvious that he’s right, and the boy next to you lets out a soft sigh, causing your heart to fall slightly.

Your posture is tense, already prepared for the sting of inevitable rejection. “It’s okay if you don’t like me, Renjun, really, I’ll be fine-” you’re cut off by his palm over your mouth, and you stare at him incredulously. Renjun, for his part, looks frustrated, forehead scrunched as he turns to face you.

“Will you let me speak for one second?” He says exasperatedly, and you nod.

“I was right about the friend. He likes you back too,” Renjun mutters, and you stare at him for a few seconds too long before the words sink in. You push his hand away roughly, your lips falling open into an expression of shock.

“What?” Renjun shrugs at the disbelief on your face. “Is it that hard to believe?”

“No, it’s just that the both of us-” You’re quickly silenced again, but this time, instead of his hand, Renjun’s lips are on yours. He’s kissing you, and you’re frozen, eyes wide.

Renjun fills with alarm when you’re unresponsive, and he’s wondering if he’s made a terrible, terrible mistake. He’s just about to pull away, when there’s a tug on his hoodie. You’re kissing him back, and he can hear nothing but his heartbeat.

Renju’s not one for physical affection, but he thinks he might be dreaming. You’re definitely topping the list of people he doesn’t mind being touchy with, and he might just seek it out himself.

It seems like too soon when you finally pull away, but Renjun doesn’t mind. After all, he’s hoping that the both of you have plenty of time, to do….whatever this is. There’s still a tiny part of him, however, that fears the thought of you realising this was a mistake and running away.

That fear quickly disappears when you break out into the most radiant smile Renjun has ever seen, causing him to let out an exhale of relief, and you burst out in giggles at his expression. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy,” you confess, and Renjun’s heart feels so full, so light, as you lean against him.

“I think I liked you the first day you walked into our office. I was just too much of a coward to consider even dating a colleague,” you continue, and Renjun lets a fond smile make its way onto his face.

“If you’re a coward, then I’m an idiot for not realising sooner. Will you let me send you home now?” At your soft nod, Renjun extends a hand out to you, relishing the feeling of your smaller palm in his.

It may have taken a year of waiting, confusion, and a whole lot of running, but Renjun finally has you, and he’s never going to let you go, not if you’ll have him.

“Ren-D, some of our readers are asking about your first love. Do you have any fun stories to share?”

There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and the only thing preventing Renjun from rolling his eyes is the fact that the camera is currently panned to him.

“No fun stories, unfortunately, but I do have a reader’s letter to share.”

“Oh?”

Renjun clears his throat, feeling strangely nervous.

Dear Y/N-D and Ren-D,

Yesterday, I finally found the courage to chase after someone that I liked, and looking back, I think they might be my first love. I didn’t realise it until they confessed to me first, but I found myself missing their presence unconsciously when they were gone. I think many of us don’t realize how precious someone is until they’re no longer there. Hence, to all the fellow listeners here, I hope that you’ll live without regrets, and bravely chase your first love no matter what!

“Oh,” you exhale softly, eyes wide. The letter was strangely sentimental, heavy for a program such as yours. You can see the comments flowing in, and you’re sure many of them feel the same as you now.

“This person is really good with words,” you comment, and Renjun huffs a laugh, almost like he’s hiding a secret.

“This is from user matchalatte,” he says, and you nod absentmindedly in response, before you freeze, head whipping to look at him. The corners of his mouth are tilted up in a smirk, and you’re staring at him, before realising that the cameras are now panned to the both of you.

There’s heat rushing to your cheeks now, realising that you know who exactly user matchalatte is. Of course it’s him. Only Renjun would think of returning the gesture, just to see your reaction on broadcast.

“Um.” You’re not yet able to formulate words to respond, even though you know that Seulgi and Jeno are likely in the other room watching you both, along with tens of thousands of listeners. Renjun lets out a soft laugh at your starstruck expression, and it causes your heart to skip a beat at his happy expression.

“The next song we have for everyone is Je T’aime by Joy. We’ll be back after the break!” Renjun smoothly takes over your line while you’re still distracted, and embarrassingly enough, it makes you melt even more.

The gentle notes of the starting piano play are audible throughout the studio, and you jolt with familiarity, eyes meeting Renjun’s. You had added this to his playlist while the both of you were drafting the program schedule, and even though he had been ambivalent to the song at first, you found the album sitting on your desk a week later.

Honestly, you should have realised it sooner. That he was the one you wanted to have morning coffee runs and midnight drives with. The person whose playlists you would listen to and whose favourite songs you would save.

Je t’aime. It’s an expression of love, but you don’t think all the languages in the world are enough to describe the way you feel with Renjun. He makes you feel like you’re floating, but at the same time the one who’s grounding you, a tethering force that makes you feel safe.

There’s a consistency to the way Renjun cares for you, the way he makes a space for himself so easily in your life that he feels like home. Having his love has already become a force of habit, one that you never want to break.

The beeping of the timer reminds you that the advertisement break is up, and you’ve managed to regain some semblance of composure externally, even though there’s still a light pink dusting your cheeks.

“Welcome back to Love.fm with Ren-D and Y/N! Today’s a chilly Friday evening, so let us accompany you into the weekend. Send in any romantic worries you have, and we’ll answer each and every one of them,” you start, and narrowly avoid stuttering when a hand encapsulates yours under the desk. You flash a warning glance at Renjun despite your previous nervousness, but the boy simply has a smug grin on his face.

Still, despite his teasing, you’ll gladly give anything to live in these moments forever, him next to you with his headphones on and script in hand.

Stay by my side like a delicate scent I guess I love you, I'm in love I hope this pleasant feeling will never change

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

We've reached the stage with this one where I'm just gonna say we should keep watching for the ratings and enjoy the pretty gifs.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I got to watch episodes 5-8 of the new season this week, and I promptly lost my mind over how good this show is. It somehow got even better between seasons; the creators have some things to say about the experiences of women under heterosexual patriarchy. I already wrote about Kasuga's family trauma storyline and how much it meant to me, but these episodes also gave us Nomoto's ongoing queer awakening and journey to define her sexuality, the introduction of a new queer bestie in Yako, a better understanding of Nagumo and the careful and steady deepening of her relationship with the gals, a new confidant for Kasgua in Fujita, and Nomoto and Kasuga inching ever closer to defining what they are to each other. The world of the show and the support network around our leads continues to expand, and I am loving every moment. This drama is excellent and I cannot implore you enough to go to @furritsubs and catch up.

My Strawberry Film

Kicking off the last Drama Shower show of the season! This is a high school story featuring a classic trio—the Pining Gay, the Chaos Bisexual, and the Budding Lesbian. Obviously, I love them. I like the mood of this one—it's quite a tonal shift from the last show in this series—and the color grading is blue, blue, blue. And there's a mystery afoot as they try to track down the beautiful girl captured on film. Looking forward to more!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

I continue to love this show, though I am not entirely sure how I feel about the turn things took with Mizuki this week. I did not really want this to go the full blown love triangle route; I am more interested in a version of this story where Sakae and Soga try to figure out these adult complications from the foundation of being in a relationship, not with the constant interference of a third party. So few dramas are willing to get the couple together early and let them face things together rather than constantly playing the will they, won't they game, and I was hoping Sukidoya was going to be one of them. That said, I like that Mizuki is sticking around in the story because he's an interesting character, and I like the conflict with Soga's job (we have a preponderance of Japanese shows about unreasonable work conditions airing atm) and the temporary nature of his time in Osaka. That he's worried about eventually leaving tells you all you need to know about how much he likes and respects Sakae. If he felt casual about him he would not be worried about complications that far down the timeline. Let's see where they take this love triangle thing next week; I'm hoping it will be brief.

Perfect Propose

Great episode this week, and I love the way they continue to deepen the backstory for these two. Hiro being the first person to need Kai rather than pity him makes so much sense for their dynamic and why Kai would be so attached to him. And of course, when Kai returns the situation is the same; Hiro definitely still needs him. I love that they took a source of shame for Hiro and turned it into a reason why he and Kai are so compatible. Kai wants to take care of him—and he's not the only one! Loved seeing Hiro's coworkers express concern for his well-being and recognize how this job is grinding him down and breaking his spirit. It was so validating to hear from another high performer that the job is miserable and he should quit. It has nothing to do with failure; as Kaneko said, it's about seeking the life he truly wants. He sees Hiro's talent and knows he will not be able to flourish in this hellish work environment, and I thought it was so kind and compassionate of him to try to help Hiro see that. Also shoutout to Hiyori for sitting her ass back down and missing the last train when she realized prime gossip was about to arrive to her table, she's just like me fr.

Ossan's Love Returns

We are clearly in the drama spiral for the season now, and this show seems to be coming for my beloved Kurosawa. Thanks, I hate it! But the show found its humor again this week even as the sad plotlines for the side characters continued, and I was very happy to see it back in top form. I loved this story with Maki and Haruta caring for Goro for the week, and how it affirmed for them that they are actually not interested in having children. I told @bengiyo and @twig-tea when we saw last week's preview that Maki seemed like the type who wouldn't like children, and I was glad to see that affirmed by the show, and crucially, that he didn't change his mind via the power of Goro's cuteness. Not all people want to be parents, and it's so nice and refreshing to see a loving couple decide they just want to focus on each other, and that you can like kids and spend time with them without needing to have one of your own. I loved, too, that we got some focus on Chizu's struggles as a single mom, and her family rallied around her and made it clear she has support. Takegawa's sudden not-at-all-selfishly-motivated interest in polyamory was hilarious, as was Chief's journey to figure out what was causing his stress—until it wasn't, of course. I was glad Chuoko was with him when he got the news. And I am really hoping that rooftop kiss was Kiku's goodbye, and we will be seeing him move on from Izumi soon.

Bonus: Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai 

Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for giffing this show and reminding me I still hadn't seen it! It was not accessible to me back when it came out and it fell off my radar for awhile. I watched today and thought it was just delightful. A short, sweet, warm hug of a friends to lovers high school bl with two very lovable leads. I highly recommend checking it out.

[changingplumbob]

Knightstone Household: Chapter 9, Part 13

Suzanna was out gathering minerals when she heard someone approach. Finishing off she stood up and dusted herself down. The voice behind her surprised her though.

Faye: Hey boss... can I talk to you

Suzanna: Umm, you want to talk to me?

Faye: Not really. I mean... this job is really important to me. I’ve dreamed of being a scientist since I could walk basically

Suzanna: I know what you mean, it was the same for me

Faye: I got defensive but... I thought about what you said. I did overstep with Shelley. It was unprofessional. I apologised to her

Suzanna: You apologised? That’s great

Faye: I mean, if she had tried to give me commands I would have snapped. She had every right to be mad at me. I let my personal need for success win over the need to be part of the team, it won’t happen again

Suzanna: Does this mean we’re going to be besties now

Faye: Oh heck no. I still think you got your position because you're an alien rather than you have some great talent. But I’m going to try be more of a team player. I can’t promise to like you, ever, but I can promise to do my job and follow your instructions. I hope we can move past the simray testing now

Suzanna: *laughs* Definitely

Back home Suzanna took some time to read while Silas relaxed. Eventually they got talking though and caught up on each others day.

Silas: The substitute said we were a good class. Normally she has to work out of town and teaches disguised but she was able to be in her alien form for our class. She said it felt natural

Suzanna: That’s good

Silas: I’m glad we moved here Mummy, it’s nice

Suzanna: Yeah I like it to

Before bed Silas sat down with Suzanna to learn all he could about his new alien for show and tell.

Silas: If it’s a Red Coral why does it look pink

Suzanna: Things don’t always have fitting names, but in this case it’s genetic

Silas: What does that mean

Suzanna: So female Red Coral are red, and much smaller than this one. The pink ones are boys

Silas: They are? But how can you tell

Suzanna: MRI’s of them show their insides and let us know

Silas: And why does it have the eye stalks

Suzanna: To see. Their home planet has lower gravity and their buoyancy allows them to sort of bounce around. They spend more time in the air than on the ground so they need to see more angles, so more eyes

Silas: They’re not hurt by the gravity here are they

Suzanna: No. Remember how we can read minds? I can tell that he’s not in any pain or discomfort

Silas: I know you found him on Sixam so how’d he get there

Suzanna: With the amount of time they spend in the air it’s easy for them to knock against each other and be propelled upwards. Their planet as far as we can tell is along a well traveled route. When they get too high they’re drawn to the ships and stick to the outsides as they approach other planets such as Earth or Sixam

Silas: And they just fall to the ground

Suzanna: As far as we can tell, they’ve never been found in vessels. They are remarkably sturdy. Think that’s enough for show and tell

Silas: I suppose. I just need to think of a good name

Fitting in a quick workout before bed Suzanna admired her art collection. Today at work she’d collected the last My Sims trophy she needed for a complete collection, and she wondered if she would get a plaque in the mail. She had recieved one for the aliens collection but not the geode collection so she was unsure what the humans counted for rewards. She hadn’t had much time to stargaze with the winter weather but hopefully next rotation.

The next day Suzanna called work to have another vacation day. This time Faye was more civil and promised to share the command duties with Shelley rather than bossing her coworker around. Satisfied with that Suzanna decided to give Pollock a bath, he needed it with his food flying everywhere. Adam spent the morning at the computer working on his next sci fi novel and after cleaning up her son Suzanna headed out to the garden.

While Suzanna tended her plants Pollock played in the snow, enjoying throwing it in the air and declaring he was making it snow.

While Adam headed off to work Suzanna and Pollock had a chill afternoon inside by the thermostat. Seeing Suzanna reading Pollock decided to copy her and set about studying the pages of one of his books. Pollock was excited for Silas to get home but since the older boy had homework to work on Pollock spent his time playing with the ring stack toy.

Once Adam got home the family had dinner.

Suzanna: How was show and tell Starshine?

Silas: Really good, everyone was impressed with the Red Coral. It’s funny, my class is half alien right

Adam: Yeah, and your normal teacher

Silas: But some of them hadn’t realised that other types of aliens existed. Small ones that is, they thought it was just us

Pollock: We many Silas

Silas: Yeah we are. But they were interested in your other aliens Mummy, can I take another one next time

Adam: Depends if you look after the Red Coral

Silas: I will. If it can survive a fall from space to the ground I’m sure I can

Suzanna: Technically it didn’t survive the fall as I revived it but close enough

Suzanna got the children to bed and cleaned the dishes while Adam made a final push on his book. The editor agreed that the manuscript was excellent and promised to forward it to the publisher as soon as the physical copy arrived. Heading upstairs Adam found Suzanna reading the book he’d gotten her for Winterfest.

Adam: Are you enjoying it

Suzanna: I am. There’s a gem seed in here that sounds fascinating. Of course it’s been too cold to plant anything

Adam: Not for much longer, the rain out there is melting the snow, we’re past the middle of winter

Suzanna: *sighs* We’ve had a good holiday season though

Adam: We have. Care for one last gift under the covers?

Suzanna: *laughing* I’m not sure if I’m on the naughty or nice list

Adam pulled her close for a deep kiss.

Adam: Why not both? I love you Starlight

Suzanna: You’re my guiding star, always

After woohoo the pair snuggled close and fell asleep to the sound of gentle rain on the roof.

Previous ... Next (Foster)

[erimeows]

Partnership

It’s warm as you and Seven sit on the roof of his house, watching the stars in the dark night sky.

When he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, he does his best to memorize your face; (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, a kind smile, kissable lips. God, how he wishes he could kiss you. Briefly, the thought crosses his mind. He’s always loved making impulse decisions. Really, he could just reach over and press his lips against yours right now… But he knows he shouldn’t- for so many reasons.

First off, you don’t truly know him. You know that he has a dark past and that he’s a secret agent- you’re his ‘partner’ who he’s frequently paired with for missions that require more than one person. Still, you don’t truly understand his personal life, even though you frequent his house and spend time with him whenever the two of you don’t have much to do. Maybe… If you saw the person outside of the jokes, the hacking skills, and the fun nights spent speeding down empty roads after successful missions, you wouldn’t like him. Who would? That person- the one who he is when he’s sad and alone- is insecure, angry, and bitter. Someone as wonderful as you deserves better.

At least, that’s what Seven convinces himself. While he’s certain that you would reject him, the scariest part is what would happen if you didn’t. If you, another agent, fell in love and got into a relationship with him. What if you died? What if he died? What if his father or the agency came after you? It’s not worth the risk. You’re a dangerous, talented agent, but you’re not nearly as dangerous as Seven. 

So, he can’t pursue you, no matter how desperately he wants to do so. He trusts you more than anyone. That’s good enough. 

“Tell me a secret,” You say, turning your head to look over at the man. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair fans out beneath your head, and your gorgeous (e/c) eyes sparkle underneath the starlight. “A really good one.”

“I have lots of secrets,” Seven responds, turning to face you as well. Curiosity laces your face, but much like him, you remain careful- guarded. One hand remains in your pocket at most times, most likely gripping the handle of a weapon. “But none of them are good. You know what they say- no one can know about the pasts of cats and hackers.”

“They also say that superheroes tend to have tragic backstories. So, Mr. Defender of Justice, why don’t you tell me yours?”

“You really wanna know about my life? You swear you won’t tell a soul?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m the illegitimate son of the Prime Minister. Seriously, the guy’s been trying to kill me for years, it’s kind of embarrassing how bad of a job he’s done,” Seven explains rather casually, even offering a shrug when you shoot him a confused glance. “I have a twin brother who means the world to me, but I went into this line of work to support him escaping from our abusive mom… And, as I’m sure you know, because of the work we do, I can never see him again.”

You hum and sit up, placing your hands on the concrete of the roof. You reach down to touch Seven, and while he doesn’t stop you, he flinches. You caress his face, then run a gentle hand through his hair. He stops to wonder, has he ever been touched like this? Maybe, when he was little, he and Saeran would cuddle on the floor of the basement to stay warm during the winter- comb each other’s dirty hair out with their fingers to keep it from getting matted- hug each other before Seven went anywhere, just in case it was the last time, because with their father hunting them down and their mother hating their existence, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘later’ were never guaranteed. 

Seven pauses, his eyes fluttering shut. This relationship that the two of you have developed is far deeper than it should be for two coworkers who are strictly forbidden from developing attachments. Seven doesn’t even deserve to have what’s left of RFA, and now he has you, too? No- he shouldn’t let you get too close. At least, not any closer than you are now. Everyone around him always ends up miserable, hurt, or dead. 

“I hope you get to see your brother again,” You whisper.

“I think,” Seven pauses, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “It’s best that I don’t. I’m not who I was back then.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Seven opens his eyes to glance at you. You’re hovering over him slightly, your hand now resting against the side of his neck. He’s forced to push away the memories of his mother’s two hands wrapped around it, to compose himself instead of freaking out on instinct. 

“...I don’t know. Different isn’t always bad, but I’m a dangerous person. I want him to be safe.”

“Then… I hope he’s safe- always- if that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah. I hope so, too,” Seven smiles and pulls away from you to sit up. You rest your head on his shoulder. The smell of your shampoo- your perfume- your everything- floods his senses. He doesn’t stop you, even if he knows he should. “Hey, why don’t you tell me a secret?”

“I don’t really have any. I had a talent for this sort of thing… Did acrobatics for a while, learned how to hack, did some self defense classes and weapons training when I was young… A friend of a friend told me about the agency at a time I was desperate for money and I went ahead with it because I was bored with my life and wanted a fresh start; to be someone exciting, doing something meaningful,” You sigh. “Though, I was convinced by the friend of a friend that the agency was doing good work rather than… Well, rather than what we’re doing, but by the time I realized, I was already in far too deep. You know as well as I do what happens if we leave.”

Seven swallows. Neither of you have to say it- if you leave the agency, they keep sending the remaining agents after you until you’re dead and not a trace of you or your former life is left. Supposedly, they go after your loved ones, too. The agency shouldn’t know about Saeran, but now Seven has to worry about you and the RFA, too. If he or you ever wanted to leave, you’d have to do it together and in a way where no one could find you. You’d have to uproot your entire lives, go to a different country, and potentially even cut contact with all of your friends.

“Right.”

“It’s past midnight,” You stand up and stretch, looking at the stars one last time. “I should get going.”

Seven glances at his phone, only to see a barrage of notifications on the RFA messaging app. He thinks to convince you to stay the night- to sleep in his bed while he takes the couch so he can enjoy your presence for a little while longer- but the thought dies on his tongue at the sight of a new user on the notification bar.

MC has entered the chatroom.

…What the hell?

“Yeah,” Seven half-heartedly nods and rushes to open the messenger. The messages move so fast from the organization’s panic at an unauthorized user that he can barely read them. “See you later, (y/n). Text me when you get home safe.”

~

The next twenty four hours prove to be Seven’s personal hell. Whilst dealing with the chaos of MC joining the organization very suddenly, V’s peculiar reaction to the situation, Yoosung’s paranoia, and ‘Unknown’ trying to hack into both the messenger and Seven’s personal devices, Seven gets assigned a mission by the agency that he has to go on alone. 

Normally, the two of you have a system; Seven hacks into the place’s data bases to get their information, you go in and do what needs to be done- whether that be stealing something, gathering extra information, or even killing and kidnapping someone. It works beautifully, so when he was told that this was a situation delicate enough that he would have to do it all alone, he panicked.

The panic… Was for a good reason.

After finishing the mission, Seven is barely able to drive himself home. He considers calling Vanderwood for help before remembering that the man would only scold him and drag him back home to catch up on the hacking work he’s been neglecting lately. So, he drives through the late night- early morning- hell, he isn’t sure what time it is. All he’s sure of is that the wind is blowing through his blood-matted hair as it glides over the top of his convertible’s sunroof, and that he is incredibly dizzy when he arrives home.

He parks the car in his parking garage and forgets to close the damn thing before stumbling out and heading towards the door. He grumbles the passcode to the security system in Arabic and trudges in, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees you sitting on the living room couch.

And, for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other; Seven leaning against the doorway, you sitting on the couch, his golden eyes pouring into your (e/c) ones. There’s normally such a casual nature between the two of you. Seven hasn’t ever seen you upset, even, but as you stand up and march towards him, he can see the concern and anger on your face at seeing his injuries.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” You question.

“(y/n),” Seven walks past you and into the living room, unable to meet your eyes for any longer. The house was a mess when he left with chip packets, soda cans, and dirty laundry strewn about, but now, it’s spotless. You must’ve cleaned it for him… He can’t help but feel guilty. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t messaged me in hours. Zen said you missed seven chat rooms in a row today,” You frown and walk towards Seven. Seven rolls his eyes at the thought of Zen ratting him out- coincidentally, the actor has been your workout buddy since Seven introduced the two of you, so of course he would tell you that the normally active Seven hasn’t been online all day. He’d be lying if he said he weren’t jealous of Zen, and especially of Zen’s friendship with you, but he’s never mentioned it. He doesn’t deserve you, after all. “I just thought I’d check on you… What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seven shakes his head and shrugs your hand off of him. Though he acts disgusted by your touch, emptiness wells up in his heart the second you clasp your hands together and stare down at the ground. “You should just go back to yours.”

“What? But no one else is here to take care of you-”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Seven, you look like shit,” You point out.

Seven shrugs again. Sure, his face is bruised, his hair and torn clothes are drenched in blood, he’s covered in sweat, and he has scrapes all over his body, but he’s seen worse. Being caught by the two guards and beaten to a pulp before securing the files and escaping is the least of what Seven has been through in his lifetime. As much as he would love to have someone around to care for him after the rougher missions like this one, he doesn’t feel as if it’s fair to subject some poor unfortunate person to being his safe haven- especially if that person is you. 

“I always look like shit.”

“I mean, maybe, but you’re usually not-” Seven coughs into his hand, effectively cutting you off as a streak of mixed spit and blood drips onto his palm. “Jesus, are you coughing up blood?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad. Just a busted lip… And I’m pretty sure a couple of my back teeth are loose,” Seven groans and sits down on the couch, wiping his palms on his dirty jeans. He’s definitely going to have to book a dental appointment soon to get his loose teeth fixed… Or maybe pulled out. Who knows. There’s a reason why you’re usually the one to do infiltration work while he’s behind the scenes on a computer; you’re much more graceful and subtle than he is, so you can get in and out of places without being caught- a skill that Seven has realized he doesn’t have. “No need to worry about it!”

Seven turns on his phone to see multiple missed chatrooms, just as you described. Even worse, the new member, MC, seems to be concerned that he’s been gone for so long. Seven quickly enters the chatroom and offers everyone a half-assed reassurance that he was just busy with work, along with some light-hearted jokes.

“What are you doing on your phone right now?” You demand, arms crossed over your chest. “Shouldn’t you be attending to- you know- this?”

Your arms are thrown up in a wild gesture to Seven’s battered body. For what must be the millionth time that night, he shrugs.

“I’ve gotta make a good impression on the new member, y’know? Don’t want her to worry too much about me- hell, none of the others really know what this work is like!”

“So you’re fine with me worrying about you, but not them?”

“(y/n),” Seven sighs, quickly excusing himself from the chatroom after finishing reassuring everyone that he was just ‘busy with work’ and that he’s ‘totally fine’. He blankly stares up at you. All along, he knew he shouldn’t have let you get so close, but… He’s a selfish man, and he can’t help himself. He does love you, but now, because he’s let you get this close to him, you’re concerned enough to waste your night on him. Maybe it was a mistake to be friends, rather than merely work partners like the two of you were instructed by the agency. “I never told you to worry about me.”

“We’re partners, Seven.”

“Yeah, we are. We’re partners at an agency that doesn’t care about us- an agency that explicitly told us not to get emotionally attached to each other to avoid situations like this! Why don’t you just leave like everyone else?”

“Why are you acting like this?” You question, clearly upset, but still somehow keeping your calm as you sit down next to Seven- perhaps too close. You don’t even seem bothered by the mix of his and other people’s blood, dirt, and dust that’s all over him. “Is it just because you’re hurt? You’ve never been this mean before- it’s like you’re a different person!”

“I’m not acting like a different person, it’s just that you never really knew me that well,” Seven admits. “I hid this side of myself for a reason, y’know…”

Tears well up in your eyes. A pang of guilt tears through Seven’s chest. Right as he considers reaching out for you, you turn your back to him. 

“So you’re telling me that every night we’ve spent together has been a lie?”

“No, it’s not-”

“If you’re going to do this, Seven, commit to it. Has it all been a lie or not? Because you’re making it sound like you’re a totally different person and that the version of you I’ve spent all this time with isn’t really you,” You turn around to look at Seven once more with tears in your eyes. Everything Seven has done to keep you at a distance has been to make sure that you’re safe. Now, though, it’s clear that he’s hurt you deeply with what he’s said. “But I don’t think you’re telling the truth. You’re pushing me away because you have your own problems… I get it, I’m not perfect either, but it’s not fair for you to assume that… That I don’t…”

“What?”

You swallow deeply, a blush on your cheeks.

“That I don’t want to be closer to you,” You finally admit, your voice barely even a whisper. Seven feels his face turn red as well. “That I don’t love you. Why else would I want to take care of you when you’re wounded? Why else would I be so worried that you disappear for a day at a time without saying anything? You think I just run around stargazing and caring for every other member of the agency I’ve been partnered with?”

“Well, no, but-” Seven argues, only for you to cut him off.

“But what? There’s no ‘buts’ here. I thought we’d made progress last night, and that I’d finally gotten you to open up… Seven, when you love someone, you don’t just want to see them at their best. You make me laugh, and you’re wonderful, but I want more than that. I want to take care of you when you’re hurt and when you’re sick, I want to be the shoulder you cry on… I want to hold your hand and make you feel better after a long day,” You start to stand up and head for the door. “If you don’t want that, though… I guess I understand. It’s my fault for getting my hopes up, considering our line of work. I’ll just leave-”

“Wait!” Seven objects, to which you look over at him again. A shocked expression takes over your face. He wants, more than anything, to tell you that he loves you, but the words seem to die on his tongue. He hasn’t said them in years. So, instead, he starts with- “Please… Take care of me. I want you to, too, and… I’ll cry on your shoulder, if I need to.”

You smile at that, then walk back over to where Seven is sitting and offer him your hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, yeah? I’ll wash your hair.”

“Okay,” Seven agrees and takes your hand. You help him up, then guide him to his bathroom. “But only if I can wash yours, too, ‘kay?”

You laugh.

“Sure thing, Seven.”

~

Later that night, the two of you are in Seven’s bed, lying side by side. You both smell of his bubblegum shampoo and soap, and though he misses the smell of yours that normally lingers on you, he’s relieved that the two of you are finally settled after the night you’ve had. His bruises have been iced, his cuts are bandaged, and your warmth envelops his body as you rest your head on his chest and curl into his side.

“Thanks for fixing me up and keeping me company, (y/n). I really don’t deserve it after how I acted earlier… I’m sorry,” Seven apologizes as he reaches over for the nightstand lamp. 

While the two of you didn’t discuss it, he assumes you’re staying the night- or, he hopes you are, at least. 

“It’s no problem. Even superheroes need a little help sometimes,” You chuckle and press a kiss against the exposed skin of Seven’s shoulder. “Seven…”

“Hey,” Seven nuzzles into your hair and kisses the top of your head. “My name is Saeyoung, so you can call me that when we’re alone.”

“Okay, then, Saeyoung. Is that all you have to say? Because I think there’s something else you’re forgetting to tell me.”

“No, um… Well, I don’t say these words often, so it’s taking me a lot of courage to say them, but I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too,” You respond and pull the blankets tightly around the two of you before settling against Saeyoung. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[divinebunnii]

This is a genuine question because I don't have ADHD so I don't know what it's like. (I have OCD and worry a lot.) I have a coworker who is rude and yell at me when stressed (which is often) and she has ADHD. I once met someone else with ADHD who said apologizing was hard for her because it made her very emotional. My coworker never apologizes but I notice that she will try to be nicer than usual after yelling at me. I do feel resentful at her but I also understand that she's not doing it to hurt me but I also feel like I don't deserve to get yelled at. But I'm afraid that if I talk to her about it it's gonna trigger another meltdown so I just try to ignore it.

What would you have prefered if you were in that situation?

so, as someone who suffers from childhood trauma, CPTSD, have borderline personality disorder, on top of being adhd autistic, it is totally rude. having spent the last 10 years of my life getting as much control over my snap reactions is something I do not take lightly, because if you genuinely don’t want to react that way, you do whatever you can to not react that way. it’s fucking hard, especially without medication, but we have to be able to reflect on what we’ve done / did and try to rationalize that it’s not appropriate behavior.

I’m not saying it’s controllable, but taking accountability and apologizing is not something that should be put on the back burner. if apologizing makes you emotional, like it does me, do it fucking anyway. if the conversation is uncomfortable or awkward, have it fucking anyway. ESPECIALLY in a work environment, the last time I worked a job in the real world I went fucking crazy on one of my bosses that didn’t deserve it, and I have regretted not apologizing and explaining myself ever since. If you let that shit just slide, it will always happen again and again. It’s sucks, but we HAVE to recondition our brains to accept that what we did was wrong, and keep training ourselves to not respond in those instant, negative ways every single time. And it is possible, it takes time, it takes work, it takes really wanting to not wallow in the pit of our triggers and grow from them to be a better person, not just to be kinder to ourselves, but for those around us, that have to be around us. They don’t deserve it either, and that perspective can move mountains.

in my opinion, the only time it’s acceptable is when someone is genuinely pushing you. but if it’s a snap, an instant, and you can recognize it wasn’t an okay reaction to have, you MUST be an adult and take responsibility. we might not have meant it, but we still DID it, and that must be addressed. Otherwise we will never have the coping tools and mechanisms to avoid rumination / spirals. And that girl will never grow from those reactions.

I still have moments I can’t catch myself, because I went through a fucking lot of shit in my childhood. There are things that get me for a week or more and I can’t pull myself out, but I have learned to regulate those feelings for the most part, after the fact. I used to go into blackout rages, I used to throw things, kick holes in walls, etc etc. it got to the point where I had to ooooo at myself and say “do I want to feel this way every time? Do I want to feel that pit of guilt for having a poor reaction?”

I fortunately had a very understanding and caring husband, who supported me and gave me the real talk when it needed to be real. he has always given me calm and kindness in my moments of weakness, which is how I think it should be approached. Resentment can be felt, which only amplifies quick negative reactions. we can train ourselves to not negatively respond to a trigger immediately, we can condition ourselves to understand that being an adult that functions as well as we can around others means taking accountability, taking responsibility, and genuinely trying to help ourselves from the pain we feel in that moment.

but if you’re asking how I would approach her in general, I’d still mention it every single time. “I know you’re stressed, I didn’t / don’t deserve that”. Apologizing, holding yourself to a better mindset, it’s possible, it just takes calm and supportive words and energies sometimes.

this is a long winded way of saying just because you feel guilty for reacting a way doesn’t give you the right to blow it off like nothing. own up, and just keep growing.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for reiterating something to a coworker in order to shame them into not talking to me about their religious beliefs?

some context: me (26NB) and this new coworker (25M) got along great at first. he was queer, into the same things as me, and we had a similar sense of humor. i was pretty glad to have him around to talk to during shifts.

one day, we both were talking about previous jobs we’d had and funny stories from them. i mentioned to him i had worked at a place similar to the current one and had met the first coworker who i openly did not get along with…

this other coworker (28NB) who i will call M had been fun to talk to at first but as i got to know them i started to get uncomfortable. M was pagan, basically eclectic pagan but he didn’t know the term, his patrons being Loki and Lucifer. he was talkative about his beliefs and witchcraft with fellow coworkers, all besides us were catholic women over age 50.

i am a celtic pagan, so of course he found this out and talked to me about it constantly. i told him my beliefs are kind of a personal thing for me, that i’m fairly private about them. M would still push for answers or get confused when i didn’t want to talk about it.

there were other reasons i didn’t like M. he was dating a 21 year old who he had been with for 4 years apparently (you can do the math) and the two of them were hiding their relationship from M’s legal husband. his legal husband had no clue that M was trans and gay. M also believed very much in tulpas and said he was a system (aka someone with DID/OSDD) because he spiritually felt presences within himself. all of these things he told me freely while we were on shifts together.

i told my new coworker friend all this, in an off-handed way as an anecdote. he stuck on the pagan part and said paganism was definitely a private thing. he told me he was pagan. i was actually glad to know this because i had heard him mention bible verses and wrongly assumed his religious beliefs. as he continued, i found out he was also likely an eclectic pagan. patrons being Loki, Cernunnos, Hermes, and others. he said he tied a lot of his past christian beliefs into it and wished Jesus could be a patron. tbh i don’t understand eclectic pagans, but it’s not my business and i didn’t want to be rude so i politely listened. however, he spent the next 2 hours of our referencing Cernunnos (i said i was celtic pagan) and paganism. he even asked me questions like M did.

when we were near the end of our shift, he asked where my alter was which let me joke about what i said at the beginning where i felt that M was annoying and asked me about my pagan beliefs too much. he got a little deflated at that but didn’t say anything about it. i felt a little bad about it, but we parted ways to clock out and i was kinda glad i didn’t feel like i was around M the sequel anymore.

however, on our next shift he didn’t really talk to me at all and made a point to ignore me when i saw him on my day off.

i know it hurt his feelings that i joked about it but he definitely overstepped a boundary i had told him about before so… AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[inbabylontheywept]

"R&D? More like R&Deez Nuts"

In a future where intelligent life had managed to break the chains of death, disease, and famine, it had yet to escape the iron grasp of bullshit corporate team building exercises.

Luckily for the R&D division of TLOB Enterprises, they had a human. His name was Earl, and he surpassed even immunity to bullshit, literally gaining strength from it like some sort of coprophilic vampire. It was almost as disgusting as it was fascinating, but the novelty of it was charming enough to keep things in the green.

The specific brand of bullshit the group was dealing with on that particular day was a “team-building laser-tag battle” pitting the three main divisions of the orbital branch against each other: Accounting, Sales, and Innovations.

To be frank, it didn’t seem like a very fair fight. Accounting was the largest branch by far at twenty-seven heads. Sales lagged behind this a great deal with seventeen members, still absolutely dwarfing R&D’s mere four.

The rules of the game were explained by a cheery corporate speaker, aided by pictures presented in something that was dishearteningly close to a power-point program.

First, each player would be given an infrared phaser, and a tag suit. The suit itself was surprisingly high tech for a toy, freezing limbs if they got hit, and paralyzing the person entirely if they were struck somewhere vital. After receiving their gear the three groups would retreat back to their offices and strategize for the next fifteen minutes. When the time was up, the station would begin to decrease its spin, lowering gravity from a comfortable one-point-two G's down to zero. The match would then proceed in the low gravity environment until two teams were eliminated, with its end being signalled by the return of gravity.

“Any questions?” the speaker finished, chromatophores flashing a nervous pink as the room remained silent.

“Haha, I’m gonna take that as a sign that I did a good job of explaining things! Alright everyone, back to your offices! And remember: We’re all part of a greater whole!”

Brisinj smirked, jagged teeth on full display. There was a moment of slow motion horror as Shiloh, Earl, and Valrose all realized that he was about to “whisper” something under his breath.

Brisinj’s equivalent of whispering was still more than enough to be heard across the room.

“Hard to. Be greater hole than. Sales. Even if. Hole is. Asshole.”

As seventeen heads swiveled towards him in disbelief he did the only thing he could that would make the situation worse.

He made eye contact with them and kept going

“BET THEY FART. LIKE. AN AIRLOCK. OPENING.”

Spittle foamed between the gaps of his jagged teeth as he forced air between them, the hiss he made literally filling the room.

And it just kept going.

And going.

And going.

Disgust morphed into disbelief as Brisinj continued to make the noise, eyes bulging, face flushed, before his lungs mercifully gave out and the hiss died with an artfully strangled gurgle.

Earl couldn’t help it. He guffawed. Shiloh’s disappointed and betrayed expression broke his heart, but he couldn’t help it. That final gurgle had been a masterpiece.

Valrose was the one that wound up taking the initiative, his hydraulic musculature giving him the strength to gently manhandle the cackling duo out of the room. Shiloh tried his best to give an apologetic wave as he followed the pseudo-crustacean out of the room, but the raucous laughter of three people behind him scorched that bridge like a leaf on the sun.

With a defeated sigh he ran to catch up to his coworkers.

---

“So… What do you think the odds are that sales decides to storm our little lab first?” Shiloh asked.

“Oh, 100%,” Earl replied offhandedly, his attention focused on rummaging through an old toolbox.

“Those are chances,” Valrose corrected, “Odds would be zero to one. But yeah, they’re definitely hitting here first.”

“I. WOULD BE. OFFENDED. IF THEY. DIDN’T.” Brisinj intoned at his standard just-below-deafening volume, “THAT HISS. WAS. PERFECT.”

Shiloh ran his claws over his scalp.

“Shit. They’re gonna slaughter us.”

Earl seemed to have found the tool he was looking for and was now rummaging through the LED drawer, gathering a collection of bulbs that he seemed promising to him. His tone was amused, even if he didn’t look up long enough for his facial expression to be read.

“Calm down. Slaughter is for real wars. Worst thing that happens here is they paralyze us and draw dicks on our faces.”

“That’s still not pleasant!” Shiloh protested.

No one argued that point.

The silence stretched on for a minute or so longer. Earl gathered his collection of bulbs before moving to the power testing lab, leaving the other three in the quiet. Valrose gave in first and pushed himself up, claws failing wildly as he got his four legs beneath him.

“So what are we gonna do? What’s our grand plan to avoid having to pretend to be dead for the next hour while the sales bastards make us into doodle boards?”

Shiloh shrugged.

“Make them work for it I guess? We could start by moving our shelving units, trying to funnel them through a choke point. Could give ourselves some cover while we were at it.”

Earl chimed in from the power lab.

“I got an idea, but I’m gonna be a little dramatic about it and make you wait to see it. Just uh… Cluster em’. The more of em’ you can pack together, the better. Even if it means making some cover on their side of the room.”

There was a slight sideways pulls as the station’s retro-thrusters activated, the rotation of the great craft gently pulling to a complete stop.

The game was starting, and Earl still hadn’t made his way back from the power lab. Brisinj was not pleased with this.

“HEY. EARL. DONE YET?”

Earl’s voice came back a few seconds later, strained but chipper.

“Almost!”

They could hear banging on the walls, the telltale sound of people launching themselves down halls in the zero gravity environment.

The noises were getting closer.

“So, uh, how ‘almost’ is that almost?” Valrose asked, his casual tone betrayed by the nervous twiddling of his manipulator claws, “Cuz I’m hearing a lot of boots hitting the walls and four wouldn’t be enough to hold them off, least of all three.”

Even without a person around to witness it, Earl still shrugged before answering.

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing: Four ain’t enough. Only way we’re winning this if I can get this party trick in working order, so just... Hold the line. Alright?”

Valrose clutched his pistol tighter, still feeling exposed in the pillbox he’d made from old shelving units and cardboard. Brisinj wasn’t pleased with Earl’s absence, but even that nuisance wasn’t enough to ruin the joy he felt at even this imitation of a fight. Shiloh just kept his sights on the lone entrance to the lab, hoping he could get the timing of his first shot right.

He did.

There was the black flash of a sales rep rocketing down the hall. He landed on all fours, limbs splayed like a tree frog, when Shiloh’s beam hit him in the back. He’d been too busy absorbing the shock of impact to begin his secondary launch, and as all four limbs froze at once from the registered vital shot there was nothing he could do but await his doom.

Apparently, doom chose to wear a grey suit that day. Another sale’s colleague had been following close behind him, and simply lacked the time to change direction. With no way to change course he slammed into his paralyzed comrade with a muffled swear, the two sent spinning into the open space of the research lab.

Brisinj picked the flailing survivor off with a casual snipe. His species was adapted for hunting and he didn’t even need to use the sights of the gun, firing from the hip like an old Western. The flailing stopped, but the accusing glare remained.

The second batch of sales workers seemed to have learned from the first, recognizing the challenges of rushing the choke point. There was the sound of scuffling in the hall as they struggled to position themselves in the 3D space before the first wave launched themselves out of the blind corner.

There were five of them, and they weren’t just smarter than the frontrunners, they seemed more physically capable. There was another sharp-toothed biped of the same species as Brisinj, and the two quickly locked themselves in a duel. Brisinj’s stationary position gave him an advantage in accuracy, but the speed that the other one was moving at made him hard to hit.

Brisinj let out an involuntary hiss as one of the shots hit him in the arm. His opponent’s eyes narrowed in fury at the sound, and the moment of distraction was enough for Brisinj to swap the gun to his functioning hand and take out one of his opponent’s legs.

Unable to position his landing well, the clerk hit the next wall and glanced off, spinning. Valrose took a careful shot at his chest and the flailing of limbs stopped, giving him the appearance of a shuriken as he whirled off in the direction of the power lab.

Still, his efforts gave four of his comrades enough time to get to cover unharried. As they began to fire at the entrenched trio, they gave more of their friends time to get through the door and set up.

Valrose was able to put up the best fight here. His head barely poked out of the pillbox, the only part of him truly exposed when he fired was whatever arm happened to be holding his pistol. He simply ran through them like an assembly line, one pincer passing the pistol off to the next as his arms took hit after hit.

He managed to get a chest shot against an upper levels sales manager, but the real gains of his strategy were in the way he took fire off the other two. Brisinj’s sharpshooter accuracy had gone down to mortal levels after swapping to his non-dominant arm, but he was still able to get two cocky reptilians through the chest when they tried to leap for better positions. Shiloh himself seemed content to take limb shots, whittling the sales team down slowly. His reptilian comrades weren’t particularly good shots, but they made up for it with their default ambidexterity. It was the real sharpshooters, the mammalian bipeds and greys, that suffered the most from losing their dominant limbs. For a moment, it looked like they could manage to hold their positions indefinitely.

The moment couldn’t last.

Two shooters made a bullrush for Valrose. The first, a reptilian, was taken out easily, but Brisinj only managed to get the second’s leg before he dove in through the entrance slot. There was a muffled curse before Valrose was evicted from the box, limbs splayed.

A chest shot.

Shit.

The pillbox was positioned behind both Brisinj and Shiloh. Having it captured didn’t just mean that they’d lost their main distraction, it meant that they were about to get caught in a crossfire.

Shiloh may not have had the quickest body, but he had a lightning mind. Before Valrose was even shoved out of the slot he was launching himself out of cover. He had his knees bent in front of him like a shield, sacrificing them midflight. If he’d been aiming for a wall, he’d have hit the ground frozen, unable to push off, but he knew better: There was a water pipe hanging off the wall he could swing around like a gymnast on, repositioning his trajectory on a beeline for the power lab.

Brisinj himself realized a half second later what he needed to do, but his superior speed made up the difference nicely. He dug his clawed fingertips into the carpet, weaving serpentine down the hall, more of a climbing motion than anything else. It was working beautifully, beams of infrared traced all the places he would’ve been if he’d been foolish enough to move in a straight line. He’d almost made it the full length of the hall before a lucky shot grazed his hand, the remaining arm locking tight. Dropping the last pretense of strategy, he simply kicked as hard as he could off the wall, launching himself towards the door he’d just barely seen Shiloh disappear behind.

It worked. He barreled into the lab, just barely managing to twist enough to land feet first on the wall instead of bouncing around the room like a 140 kilo rubber bullet.

“EARL! THEY GOT. VAL. ARE YOU. DONE. YET?”

Earl turned around, a wild grin on his face. He’d built… something. There was a breadboard covered in crudely soldered chemical batteries, a handful of resistors, and most importantly, an LED. A matte black cone of plastic was wrapped around the top bulb, focusing the light from a radial burst to a much more concentrated cone.

Brisinj was good at circuits, but the whole thing was so rushed and messy he could barely tell where the on switch was. Shiloh, on the other hand, seemed to understand immediately.

“Does that LED emit in the same wavelength as the pistols?” he demanded, almost gleeful at the prospect.

“Close! We’ll see if it’s close enough to fool the sensors.”

There was no time for self-congratulating speeches. The sales team had begun to follow them down the halls, eager to finish what they’d started.

Earl braced himself by the doorway. Behind him laid his wounded teammates...before him laid destiny.

And what human would he be, if he had not laid with destiny?

He launched himself across the room, body parallel to the ground even as he fired the cone down the hallway. He didn’t have the expert precision of Brisinj, or the fast thinking of Shiloh, but he married both in a way that lent itself beautifully to movement. He only needed to be good at dodging, his homemade infrared blaster was basically miss proof.

It was a massacre. The infrared cannon froze everything in its massive, continuous cone, combining the best traits of both a machine-gun and a flamethrower. You couldn’t pray for a better room clearing device. Earl was able to clear out the entire corridor with a flick of his wrist, paralyzed salesmen drifting through the zero-gravity environment like frozen corpses after a hull breach. There was something eerily beautiful to the scene.

The effect was ruined somewhat when the drifting “corpses” started whining about rules and blatant cheating, but Earl was far too busy not listening to them to bother listening to them.

Using the floating bodies as jump-off points, he rocketed down the hall, the cone making a gentle figure-eight sweep as it cleared every point in his field of vision. Limbs froze at awkward angles, as people tried to fire from behind cover and those that tried to move for a better vantage point, desperate to make sense of the chaos, found themselves cast adrift.

It took him a little under four seconds to wipe out the remnants of sales. It took him longer than that to spot Valrose, buried as he was under a pile of four clerks.

It only took him one bounding leap to reach his friend, and two great heaving pulls to send the clerks flying off into space. Val was currently face down, and he took a moment to steel himself before turning his friend over.

No.

They’d got him. There were four dicks on his face, each from a different species, with a level of anatomical detail that Earl found both frightening and educational.

Huh. So that’s what they look like.

Val’s expression was as inscrutable as any shrimp’s, and his casual tone wasn’t helping.

“Give it to me straight Earl: How bad is it?”

Earl placed a gentle hand on Val’s shoulder. They were both men here. He deserved the truth.

“Val… There are four dicks on your face. Like, full on dicks. Dicks with veins kind of dicks.”

Val’s face twitched a little, but he kept that calm, stable tone that everyone on the station knew him for.

“I see. Earl, could I ask you a slight favor?”

It was probably the result of seeing too many cheesy war movies, but Earl didn’t think he could refuse a comrade that had, in a way, given it all in pursuit of duty.

“Anything man. Just name it.”

The temperature seemed to drop, so cold was Val’s response.

“Avenge me.”

---

R&D solved its vengeance problem the same way it solved all of its problems: By breaking its solution down into easily replicable steps and then moving on to mass production.

It took Earl only a minute to print out a halfway decent penis stamp, time that Shiloh and Brisinj spent figuring out how to act as the other’s limbs. They were far from graceful, but they could get by. With no time to lose they began clumsily navigating the open spaces, moving from body to body, a flurry of stamping, jumping, and laughter.

Earl himself spent his time getting situated in the pillbox. He wasn’t sure if he could beat the onslaught of accounting, but it was worth a shot. Even in the worst case, his goal could be to just buy time for Val’s vengeance.

There was time for two people to get stamped before the first accountant poked his head around the corner. Earl recognized his face, even if he didn’t know his name. He was a fellow intern, green as a sapling. A quick pulse of the blaster was all it took to turn him into a statue, a fate he seemed surprisingly at peace with. Even as a casualty he continued to relay information to his teammates. It seemed that he’d been chosen specifically as a sacrifice.

“Alright everyone, you’re not gonna believe this, but the lab boys actually managed to eliminate everyone in sales.”

Even muffled by the blind corner, there was still an audible wave of surprised hums. It seemed that they’d massed just out of sight, taking the slow and steady approach. Classic accountant move. Their patience and general willingness to strategize didn’t bode well for R&D.

The intern spent a few more seconds analyzing the room before relaying back even more info.

“They’re uh… they’re graffitiing the sales branch with genitalia. I can see Val, it looks like he’s been out for a while. They’ve got Brisinj and Shiloh helping each other out, but they’re both missing the use of two limbs, they’re not very combat effective. The only one that seems intact is Earl, and he’s got a little fort made at the end of the room. Hi Earl!”

Earl gave him a little wave. This was… oddly amicable. If he could pull this bit out longer, it would be a lot simpler than fighting.

“Hey! Sorry, I forgot your name. Always been bad with names. Who are you again?”

The paralyzed accountant didn’t seem very bothered by this.

“I’m Velen! The thing in your hand isn’t a phaser, so I’m assuming you made your own weapon?”

Earl’s eyes widened in alarm. Huh. Well, that element of surprise burned out real fast.

“Eh… Well… Yeah.”

He was already tucking the weapon away, but it was too late, Velen was already passing on more recon.

“Earl’s made a phaser! Lots of batteries and a large LED! It’s got a cone shaped barrel, probably covers a wide area continuously. Anyone got any ideas on how to handle that?”

Earl couldn’t hear the voices too well, but there were suggestions of various shields, ranging from using a wall of interns, to coffee tables. The winning suggestion came from a reptilian voice, recognizable by its faint lisping accent, identical to Shiloh’s.

“...I think there’s a large mirror hanging up in the lobby? We might be able to reflect the beam back at him.”

Earl considered this. If he waited here, there would be the substantial delay of them traveling down to the main docking area, then traveling back, then making their slow and steady charge. He didn’t have a good counter to it, but it would at least be a slow style of victory.

Alternatively. He could charge, right now. He might get shot immediately, he might win, hell, he might do neither and just succeed in delaying the inevitable a little more staunchly.

What the hell. He still had some fight left in him.

He braced his legs on the back of his pillbox, blasting himself out of the narrow entrance slot like an ICBM leaving a submarine.

Velen startled a little before continuing his play-by-play.

“He’s pretty fast! Hey, he’s making a run for the hall. You guys might want to pull back a little, or you’ll end up like me.”

There was the ominous banging of twenty-five points of shoes bouncing off the walls before Earl even rounded the corner. He froze, unsure of what to do, when he heard that same, old reptile speak.

“Not bad! After what happened on your colony world I thought you’d be taking things slow. War of attrition. Glad to see that you’ll gamble on victory!”

Earl launched down the hall towards the voice. The lizard that he saw was old, older than Shiloh. He’d braced himself at the edge of another blind corner, shooting a wink before launching out of line of sight.

Earl followed in hot pursuit, gun held on in front of him. The lizard was damn fast, always just a few steps ahead. Panting, he rounded a corner just in time to see a green tail whirl into the bathroom.

He grinned.

The little guy was fast, but he’d cornered himself there. Earl pushed quickly, eager to catch the lizard before he realized his mistake.

He rocketed in through the door, blaster on, and immediately realized that the lizard wasn’t the one screwing up. He was.

Mirrors.

He froze as the reflective surfaces in the room bounced the beam back at him. He drifted silently through the empty space, hoisted by his own petard, before he saw a familiar spiky head pop up from one of the stalls. Now that paralysis wasn’t on the line, the lizard’s movements were a lot more relaxed.

Earl spoke first. It was really all he could do, frozen as he was.

“I don’t actually know your name, but may I just say that you pulled this off beautifully?”

The lizard grinned.

“Ha! I’m Petrunko. I’ll take that compliment, today was probably the most I’ve used my brain in the last ten years.”

Earl tried to shrug, the suit reducing the movement to a neck twitch. He laughed at himself for trying, the excitement of the last few minutes wearing off, leaving him happy and tired.

“You sound like my boss. Get too good at your job and it gets boring, huh?”

Petrunko wiggled his hand a little, the surprisingly universal sign for kinda.

“Your job doesn’t really change, but your view of what you’re a part of does. Imagine if one of your cells became self-aware and you’ve got a good idea of what my life is like.”

Earl winced. That sounded like an existential nightmare.

Petrunko caught the expression and held up his three fingered hands placatingly.

“Whatever panic your ego has right now about feeling small and insignificant will be replaced when you get older. You’ll want to be part of something bigger than yourself. Give it time.”

Earl grinned at that. The advice was good but beyond that…

“Psh. Went from sounding like my boss to sounding like my dad.”

Petrunko crossed his arms, more amused than annoyed at the jab.

“Wonder what your dad would say about your little art project back there. Those canvases are a bit pricey for dick stencils.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, we only defaced two of them before your nerd squad showed up.”

Petrunko laughed. The noise was only cut off when a distant hum began, the ion thrusters on the hull giving some faint warning that the station was about to begun rotating again. Apparently, the other accountants apparently had seized the opportunity to finish off Brisinj and Shiloh.

The game was over. Earl felt himself gently falling to the ground, arms and legs suddenly free to move once more. Petrunko offered him a hand up, and he took it gratefully.

“Hopefully your friends got a few more with the delay you bought them. Sales has always been hard to get along with, but they’ve been mean bastards for the last four years."

Earl dusted himself off before offering a handshake. Petrunko clearly wasn’t familiar with the gesture, but he got the hang of it quickly.

“What’s it mean?”

Earl paused, processing. He was still getting used to explaining body language, to expressing so much in only words.

“It’s got a couple of meanings, but right now it means ‘You beat me, and earned my respect.’”

Petrunko concentrated for a moment, clearly trying to commit it to memory.

“I like that. I hope I get the chance to shake your hand next time, Earl.”

Earl had a moment of startling clarity: He’d just made a friend. A good one too, it seemed.

“Well, we’ll see if I can earn it. In the meantime, we should go check the other science boys. I’m curious to see how they’ve managed without me.”

Petrunko shrugged.

“I’d point out the strangeness of the newest person here trying to mother people with three, four times his expertise but… I do want to see what they managed in your absence. Come on, let’s go.”

And together they left, walking down the halls that just moments before they'd flown through.

In the companionable peace of things after the battle, Earl had one final thought:

I can't believe I wrote this off as bullshit. --- This is a loose sequel to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/inbabylontheywept/721036534229434368/so-whats-the-biggest-gun-youve-ever-made?source=share But it's not required reading. The shorts I wrote in this world aren't part of an overarching larger story, they're just borrowing characters and setting. I think the rule I'm going to follow is that hard-series get reblogs, general settings will just get notes like this at the end, showing what pieces they're attached to. I might change that later, I'm still figuring out optimal ways to use the site. Tumblr is pretty odd.

[btsbabe7]

Naturally, this is my safe space, so I have to post this here.

I went out for coffee with a guy at my job that I’ve just been vibing with lately. I don’t know what we have in common, but we just connect. We have fun at work, our conversations are always engaging, and he hypes me up when I need it the most and don’t even realize. We have a good give and take relationship going on.

When he asked me to hangout, I was nervous about going out due to a previous situation with the last male coworker I went out with. Overall, it didn’t turn out well, yet I decided to give this thing another try.

The coffee hangout went so well! I spent so much time trying not to be vulnerable in front of another man; however, I ended up crying (lol). Yet, he still made me feel so SEEN and validated my feelings. He didn’t say I was too intense or sensitive; he didn’t complain that I was venting and I gave him space to vent too.

Everything just felt so genuine and natural, like we could pause in those moments where we didn’t know what to say, ramble on when we had so much more to express, or apologize when we got so excited about something we both experienced and wanted to share, but ended up speaking over each other. It was such an amazing experience and just proves that sometimes you want someone to be your person and they might not be, and that there are also people that will accept you for who you are, but you just have to wait for them!

We decided on making coffee our thing whenever we need it and I’m actually looking forward to it this time.

[queen-esther]

Hi i’m sorry if this is weird but can you talk more about what’s making you leave teaching? I’m in the process of getting my masters rn and i’ve really loved my placement so far but admittedly i’m a little bit uh. scared. lol.

Oh, so many reasons!

Student behaviors are out of control with increasingly less support from parents, administration, and society in general. There’s always some little excuse for why the kid decided to threaten to throw a desk at multiple classmates or wrote “FUCK ME UP THE ASS” on classroom furniture, whether it’s magically the abusive commie teacher’s fault, the poor wittle bwaby uwu is just going through a hard time and needs a bag of Takis, another kid made them upset, etc. Gentle parenting and the over-reliance on giving kids the benefit of the doubt for genuinely atrocious behavior is going to result in a very fucked up generation of adults in the next ten or so years, so be ready for that.

There’s also too much extra paperwork that doesn’t contribute to effectively getting the job done in the classroom in any way. There’s always some stupid PD to go to, some random document that needs to be filled out and uploaded, some email or phone call that just HAS to be responded to by 12:30 PM no matter how much it interrupts actually, you know, teaching your class.

I’m also very pissed off about how my maternity leave was handled, among other things. I understood my leave would be unpaid, which sucks and is honestly unacceptable, but we managed with short term disability giving me 65% of my normal paycheck while I was out. While I was on leave, I also had to deliver checks to the office to pay for my insurance premiums at the threat of having those benefits taken away. What they DIDN’T make clear to me, however, was the fact that my pay rate would be “adjusted” when I came back, so I was also getting hundreds of dollars slashed from each paycheck even when I got back to work, up until the end of this past August. In short, the school district found some legal way to double dip on withholding pay from me for having the audacity to have a baby. It’s 2024, and yet we still have a female-dominated field where this sort of thing is considered expected and okay.

There are also just little things that take away passion from teaching and add up over time. I hate having literally everything I teach revolve around making the kids pass a stupid standardized test at the end of the year. I hate having admin come in and, instead of finding ways to help me and my coworkers grow, picking out “gotchas” to make us feel like we suck at our jobs. I can’t stand being limited by following to the letter exactly the lesson plans the district hands out to us. It’s impossible to handle 16 different IEP’s for individual students. There’s an unspoken expectation that we devote hours of our personal time outside of work to focusing on work-related things.

I haven’t had a huge outbreak in trichotillomania since high school, but my traditional bald patch has started to come back in the last couple of years, I suspect from all the stress and anxiety. When I look at what I want for myself in the next ten, twenty, thirty years, this job ain’t it, especially since I would need to take out another student loan to get a master’s degree if I want to advance anywhere outside of the classroom. I’m not willing to put myself through that anymore. 🤷🏼‍♀️