#expect many more chapters to come until the very end! i’m finishing this story if it kills me!

[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶Surely, when two friends set up their two friends on a blind date in the very small town of Hawkins, they make sure those two people don't know each other beforehand, right? And, more importantly, aren't coworkers, right?✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, angst towards the end, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for eventual smut

chapter: 3/20 [wc: 6.1k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 3: The Accidental First Date

“Is this too much?” you asked, yanking down the visor and checking yourself in the small mirror.

Sitting in the back parking lot of the movie theater, you went through your purse for the finishing touches on your look. Doing your last paranoia check for anything in your teeth, turning your head this way and that to zhuzh your hair, and most importantly, preening your oxymoron of a sweater to show a decent amount of cleavage without flashing the cups of your push-up bra.

Truly a walking contradiction of a top. Cable knit and warm, but with a plunging neckline, to where the top button started at your sternum.

“No, you look hot,” Robin assured with her goofy smile. “New York modest is Hawkins slutty. He’s gonna love you.”

You shrank into your girlish giggle. “Good, I want my dating debut in this little town to be a statement. Set the stage for future escapades.. Until I run out of men, I guess. Seriously, how many bachelors live here and aren’t total hicks? Four?” Robin laughed.

“Could be worse. You could be a lesbian.”

“True,” you concurred. “Good thing you have Vickie. Sucks she couldn’t come tonight.” Robin made a sad huff of agreement, working a mascara wand through her lashes. “Hey, I know I said ‘yes’ without asking, but is this guy you set me up with even my type? Not that I care, obviously; a good story is a good story, but I’m just trying to set my expectations here.”

She furrowed her eyebrows dramatically, and paused unscrewing her lip gloss to rock her entire body into a positive affirmation–almost bumping her forehead on the steering wheel from the force of her nodding. “Oh, absolutely,” she said emphatically. “Looks scary on the outside, but is a total sweetheart on the inside. Overconfident, and obnoxious, but in that charming, swoony way.”

“Perfect!” You clasped your hands together.

Stepping out of the car, she waited for you so you could walk with your arms linked together, and she continued, “I haven’t seen him in years, but Steve was telling me over the phone that he’s been going through a tough time, and hasn’t been on a date in a while.”

“Aw, poor guy.”

There was a beat of silence where both of your faces twisted into knowing smiles.

“I know what that look means..” Robin led, canting her head to you.

Innocent, you lifted your shoulder in a coy shrug, bringing a collection of her soft hair up to your chin. “No idea what you’re talking about. I was just thinking, if he hasn’t been on a date in a while.. Why not make it memorable for him?”

You laughed together, rounding the sidewalk to the front entrance of the theater where the glamorous marquee shined gentle daylight upon the darkened street. Romantic and intimate, with a crowd of people standing in vague suggestions of lines; some broken off, gossiping, smoking.

“There they are,” Robin whispered, letting go of your upper arm to wave at Nancy–who you had met at the grocery store last week. She saw you approaching, and tapped her hand on the chest of the man beside her.

Still a considerable distance away, you peered at him, and placed his luscious hair in your memory. “Oh, that’s the guy who came to the shop today.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, he was talking to the annoying mechanic I’m always telling you about.”

“The one you have a crush on?”

“Shush,” you bristled at the mention of your not-so-secret. “I do not have a crush on Eddie. Anyway! Did I tell you what he did this morning? He fuckin’ stood outside the window next to my desk, just out of my view for like, full on minutes, waiting for me to look at him. Like Michael Myers or some shit. Scared me half to death.”

Robin, still caught on one detail you had somehow failed to mention in the month you worked at the auto body shop, quietly asked, “..Eddie?”

“Yeah, my coworker,” you answered, not looking at her when she fell a step behind, since you were too focused on greeting Nancy, and introducing yourself to Steve to notice her sudden jog up behind you. Too fixated on complimenting Nancy’s skirt to witness the way Steve aimed his confused frown just past your shoulder. Missed his dismissive hand gestures, and Robin’s panic as she tried to wordlessly communicate something dire to him.

You were too busy listening to the cars cruise by on the street, and chatting casually, and savoring the warmth of a new friendship to scrutinize the sound of quick footsteps from the other direction, or the jangle of metal chains attached to their presence, or Robin’s damning groan.

“Sorry, I’m–” a familiar voice said. A bit nasally and on the higher side. Mirthful, awake with youth, and excited to make a good first impression.

You turned to them. Your date.

“..Late,” they trailed off.

Deer in headlights. Big, brown doe-eyes wide with surprise, framed by beautiful black lashes.

He stared at you.

His stomach sank.

You stared at him.

Your heart raced.

Eddie had stopped mid-step with his hand raised in greeting. The chains on his leather jacket tinkered until they stilled. Kind smile frozen from a better time. Chest filled with a held breath. Presenting himself with his best foot forward, and now his ears were tinted with the embarrassment of trying too hard to impress.

Oh, God.

You blinked away, and were intentional to accept the situation for what it was without showing your surprise, opting for a simple, timid, awkward, shaky, exhaled, “Hey, Eddie.”

He wasn’t so poised.

Shutting his eyes, he allowed the realization to wash over him, scrunching his face in a pained expression as the puzzle pieces slotted into place. He hung his head, and released his breath through his nose. “Your roommate is Robin,” he stated, pointing at her to punctuate his sentence. “And you call her Bobbie.”

“Yeah..” It was an apology as much as it was a confirmation.

“You still call me Bobbie?” Robin asked, tugging on your sleeve, forgetting the tense air surrounding the group for the moment. “I haven’t used that stage name in years.”

“Guess it stuck with me..”

Thankfully, someone else added to the conversation. Unfortunately, that person was Steve addressing the elephant outside the ticket booth.

“So, I take it you two know each other,” he deduced, looking from Eddie’s dejected gaze at the ground, to you wringing your purse strap over your chest.

Eddie enlightened him in a solemn tone, sparing a single glance at his friend, “She’s the receptionist at work.”

“Ah.” He turned his attention to Robin. “You set up two people who work together.”

She threw her hands up and blamed him, “Uh! No way, dunce, don’t put this on me. This whole thing was your idea, and at no point in the conversation did you tell me Eddie was a mechanic! If you had told me he was a mechanic I probably could’ve put two-and-two together myself, and avoided setting up people who see each other every day.”

Increasingly red-faced, Steve very pointedly avoided Eddie’s suspicious squint after being outed as the one who set up the date, not Nancy. “You’re the one who lives with her, how could you not–?”

“Okay!” You clapped once to end their bickering. “Then it’s not a date.”

Nancy, bless her, picked up her improv skills fast. “Yeah! Not a date. Just a casual outing between friends. Steve, get the tickets ready so we can get popcorn before the line gets too long.” There was a ripple of unanimous murmurs, followed by shuffling to the entrance.

“Silver lining,” Nancy muttered out the side of her mouth to Steve, “It’s a movie date, so it’s not like they have to talk to, or look at each other.”

Steve tempered his laugh to a hiss and held the door for Robin, who in turn kept the it ajar behind her for you, but as you went to catch it, it was opened for you.

Clack- clack- clack. You’d heard the sound every morning; his distinct rings on the metal frame of the glass door beside your desk, followed by his soft grunt when pulling it open. But whereas his whispered ‘morning’ normally echoed in the tiled lobby, it was now on the back of your neck, fanning your skin, and it wasn’t a sweet greeting, but a reserved, solemn, regretful, sad, “Sorry for.. yeah.” That’s how he started your date that wasn’t a date. With an apology. And still, as the crisp autumn air was replaced by the humid waft of buttery popcorn, your brain was stuck at the garage, filling in the drag of his heavy work boots on the way to the breakroom for coffee, and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke trailing his stride.

Except, as you were jolted back to reality, you came to know he didn’t present himself so generically outside the context of motor oil. Due to the traffic clogging around the ticket ripper, Eddie ran into you and you discovered the nuances of what he smelled like when not at work, with the added intimacy of his chest pressed to your back.

Worn leather enveloped by notes of vanilla musk cologne. Spicy deodorant carried by the sweet earthy tang of tobacco. Dove White on his heated skin, and Dawn on his hands.

A symphony you could immerse yourself in learning for hours if it wasn’t for the crime of your group moving forward.

“Did you want anything?” Eddie asked you, pointing at the concessions.

“Oh, no, I’m good.” You made a clawing gesture at your mouth. “Eating popcorn before the movie even starts because I have no self control and then being forced to sit there with kernels in my teeth drives me nuts.”

Not finding you as endearing as you intended, he slipped his hands into his pockets, and motioned for both of you to stand off to the side, out of the way while you waited for the others to get their snacks. And he just stood there. Not saying anything. You were turned to him as if to carry a conversation, but his gaze was set ahead; not on anything in particular, just away from you.

Rarely had his face been this slack, this devoid of emotion. Even when doing menial work like filling out invoices for parts you would need to order, there was activity. Liveliness in the tic of his eyes reading lines on the paper. Movement of his tongue sliding across his top lip. A subtle crease between his brows. Something. Anything.

You spoke above the giggly teenagers sneaking into the film next door, “For a stick in the mud, you look nice.” He really did, in his well-loved jacket draping his frame after years of being broken in to perfection. Tight black jeans. Sensible boots. More accessories than just his rings.

Try as he might to cut you an unamused look, his freshly washed hair bounced in immaculate waves around his face, catching the low mood lighting like a messy halo.

“Thanks,” he said, not meaning it.

“I can see why you don’t get many dates if you always look this miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Glum, then? Woebegone? Hapless? Crestfallen?” When he seemed hellbent on wishing he were anywhere else, you eased up on your act. Harboring the pit of rejection eating away at your stomach, you pried, “Disappointed?”

The glimpse of vulnerability in your words was not lost on him.

He snapped to, shaking himself out of his funk to reassure you in his gentle timbre amongst the chaos of someone beating the top score on the pinball machine, “I’m not disappointed to be here with you.”

“Then what are you?”

“Sorry,” he guessed, shrugging. He was the type to speak with his hands, moving them despite being confined to his pockets. “I’m sorry our friends suck at communicating and this is how your night turned out; you being here with me when you were clearly expecting someone else.” His gaze didn’t dare dip lower than your nose, but the effort you put into your appearance did not go unnoticed. It wasn't the first time he stared a little too directly into your eyes after you decided to stop covering yourself up.

“I don’t go on dates intending to find my one true love or anything lame like that,” you said, honestly. “I go on them to have fun, and I think we can still have fun, even if we have to share the same tiny lunch table come Monday, and we side-eye Carl for bringing tuna again.” He almost smiled at that.

Sensing he needed another boost of confidence, you kept going, “Before I knew it was you, Robin was talking you up in the car. Going on about how my date was some sweet guy, super handsome, and with a heart of gold. You know, the Prince Charming type. Oh, and totally obnoxious too. Real loudmouth who never shuts up.”

Okay, maybe some of that was ad libbed, but you wanted to know how much of it was true.

Eddie shifted from foot to foot, subduing his grin by biting his tongue, literally. “That’s a pretty apt way to describe me back in high school, yeah, especially with how I’m dressed.”

“What changed?”

“Uh, I had a kid,” he laughed. “She stole all my charm. I swear Adrie can talk me into anything.”

“I think you’re just a pushover.”

“Probably,” he surrendered. Raising his brows, he mused aloud one of the many things on his mind, “Do you not agree that she described me accurately? Sweet Prince Charming guy, all that?”

There was no way in hell you were going to speak your truth. Instead, you smirked. “I don’t think you want to know what adjectives I’d use to describe you.” They were far too vulgar to utter in a crowded room. Hot in the most annoying way. Absolute pain in my ass. Just the worst, especially when I don’t hear you sneak up behind me in the kitchen, and you think it’s funny to scare me right as I open my drink from the Coke machine, and you laugh your stupid laugh when I drop it. An absolute eye-sore when you look up at me while you're on your hands and knees cleaning up the mess you created. Irritatingly handsome when you grin and buy me another one.

Ignorant to your private thoughts, he swung his elbow out to push you, and smiled.

Relaxing into the natural lull in conversation, you both watched your friends make it to the front of the line and order their food. They waited at the counter, starting the clock on when they would inevitably make it back to the two of you, and cease your alone time with Eddie. (Although, first, they’d have to traverse an entire bucket of dropped popcorn, and navigate around more than one group of children reenacting a fight scene they just watched on the big screen.)

“Were you disappointed I was your date?” you asked.

Robin was right. Eddie was a sweetheart. As soon as he detected an inkling of insecurity–whether it be in your strained voice, or etched into your face, or imbued in the question itself–he was quick to absolve your worry.

“No, no,” he said. “Relieved, if I’m being honest.”

“Relieved?” You weren’t expecting that.

“There’s a reason I haven’t dated since having Adrie. It didn’t sound like Steve made it clear to.. you, well, my anonymous date which happened to be you. Jesus, this is confusing. Whatever, you know what I mean, he didn’t say if he told my would-be date that I’m a dad, and I was afraid of coming here and having to tell them myself. Even if we hit it off, it’s a deal breaker for some people, y’know? Not that I blame them. I would’ve said the same thing five years ago.”

You nodded as you listened to him. “Never thought about it from that perspective. All my dates have been one-and-dones. Super casual. Kids were never really brought up.”

“Yeah, the dating world isn’t always so gracious. I’m kinda glad I’m here with you–someone who knows me, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Steve raising his sodas above his head as two boys ran past him, pretending they were in a shootout.

Knowing he wouldn’t have time to respond, you informed Eddie, “You’re worrying about the wrong thing. Adrie’s an angel. You should be more concerned about your curmudgeonly attitude being a deal breaker.” His narrowed-eye glare had never felt so sweet.

Robin’s giddy presence became known. She dropped her chin to your shoulder with a satisfied hum, and wrapped her arm around your waist to hug you snug to her body. You laid your head on top of hers, swaying with her.

She must’ve made a face at Eddie, because a different emotion flinched across his features, and he was back to avoiding making eye contact.

You, however, were more enticed by the drink in her hand than analyzing his change in demeanor. “Shit, now I want an Icee.”

“Yeah, I got cherry,” she said, angling the straw towards you. “They have Coke too–Okay, bye, dork,” she giggled after you.

“Go ahead and sit without me! I want an Icee.” Nancy clutched the largest size of popcorn to her chest to avoid spilling it as you stumbled out of Robin’s hold and darted for the concession stand.

Eddie raised his voice, “You couldn’t have decided that five minutes ago when I asked?”

“Nope!”

————

The theater for the low budget horror flick reflected the town’s perception of it. As soon as the heavy door closed behind you, your footsteps on the dense carpet echoed around the empty room. Your group was sitting in the back row, and their murmurs could be heard from the bottom.

You climbed up to them and flumped into the seat next to Eddie. “We can share,” you said excitedly, shaking the drink at him before placing it in the cupholder at the end of the single armrest.

When the subtle pinch of concern around his eyes remained, you promised him you didn’t have cooties.

He played with his rings, pulling them down the length of his fingers and spinning them while he worked through his confusion. “You don’t have to sit next to me.. You can sit next to Robin.” He motioned beside him, to Steve munching on his popcorn while Nancy held it, and Robin whispering on the end, rolling her eyes at something Nancy said.

“Why wouldn’t I sit next to you?”

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to settle on what he wanted to say, and finishing with a submissive shrug, leather jacket groaning at the act. He bounced his foot quicker, shaking the aglets on his laces against his boot in a chaotic rhythm. “Dunno..”

“You’re silly. I’d pinch your cheek if I didn’t think you’d bite me.” He reeled at that, and you giggled. You didn’t mind making him balk at your weird quirks; whatever put him at ease. Rather, whatever made him stop rubbing his knee against yours, because you were certain the friction was about to cause a fire.

Digging through your purse, you took out a rectangular box and slid your finger under the flap, popping it open and dumping a handful of candy into your palm. You threw it back into your mouth. “Want sh-ome?” you chewed, offering the box to him.

“Who the hell eats Mike and Ikes?”

“Uh, me, jerk.” Right as the lights dimmed to pitch black, and the curtains drew back from the screen, you hit him with the most exaggerated pout. “I only eat them at the movies. They’re a ritual, and you’re rude.” The shadows lining his face twisted into a deeper grin. “Are you more of a chocolate guy?”

“Maybe,” he answered like he was suspicious of your motives.

And maybe he should be. Afterall, you committed the number one sin when it came to cinemas.

“Looks like I chose right,” you said, reaching into your purse and pulling out a Kit Kat. “I was hoping my date would be a chocolate sorta guy–” You went quiet seeing his eyes widen a touch. “I mean, not date. Begrudging coworker? Tentative acquaintance?”

“Reluctant friend,” he answered smoothly, taking the package from you and ripping it open with his teeth.

~~~

Trailers for other films played, bathing the room in flickers of light interrupting the darkness. The opening credits began. Your candy was half-eaten. His was devoured. You took a sip of your Icee, and from the vantage point of pressing your back into the cheap theater seat, you observed him in your periphery.

His gaze hardly left the drink. Your offer to share it gnawed at him in a visible way. Scoping out the straw, the possible trace of spit you left behind, the possible trace of spit he’d leave behind. He peered at the screen to acknowledge the intro, and then back down it was, boring holes into the Icee.

You were no better, nibbling at your lips when he finally caved and took a sip–all too quick, and clumsy, almost missing the cup holder when he put it back down with lightning speed.

The edge of your thighs touched under the arm rest; worse so, when you folded one leg under you, and leaned into him. “Do you hate it when people talk during movies?”

“Not these kind.” He meant the genre in general, which made for great fodder for ripping apart in friend groups, but another popular trope among this realm of fiction became apparent. The first set of tits flashed on screen, and you both found yourselves lacking in the commentary department.

After a moment, you tilted your head. “That actress looks familiar..”

“She’s been in other cult classics. Always acts with her eyebrows.” He turned to you and nudged your shoulder, vying for your full attention. He emphasized the end of each word with an inflection as if it were a question, and raised his eyebrows in every way possible, mocking her slowly, “She’s the one who always talks like this–!” He looked crazy contorting his face to make his point.

“That’s it!” You snapped. “Her wearing glasses really threw me off.”

“Mhm.” His hum vibrated along your upper arm pressed to his, and he asked quietly under the screams of the first gorey death, “Do you like B movies?”

“Hell yeah. Back home they would play them at this rooftop drive in place. I rarely paid to watch them, though. The next building over had a good view of the projector screen.”

His banter dropped in favor of chewing on the corner of his thumb. If it wasn’t for the wild change in scenery cast across his face, you could’ve sworn his faint smile faltered into inscrutability.

Did you say something wrong?

————

“Damn, that was a cool practical effect,” Eddie complimented the purplish fizzing ooze that once was a person.

“I know, right? That’s why I love these bad movies. There’s no budget for good CGI, so they have to do creative stuff like that.”

It was inevitable. Bound to happen. A mere act of fate. Stars aligning in the close knit group leaning forward to exchange witty quips about the hare-brained plot holes in the movie, and not minding their surroundings except to receive everyone’s laughter, making jokes at the expense of the bad acting.

Steve was asking a question that was technically answered by the movie’s lore if he’d paid attention to the dialogue during the second gratuitous stripping scene. You or Eddie could have answered, but Robin took it upon herself to explain, and you two nodded along.

Absentminded, you reached for the Icee.

Distracted, Eddie reached for the Icee.

The waxed paper cup was cold under your fingers, but your hand was blanketed by warmth.

Slow to process, you both glanced down at the reason why neither of you were achieving your goal, and the overload of sensory inputs faded away to one: touch.

Your thumb was trapped under his palm, and his fingers stretched around the cup, meeting yours on the other side and housing them beneath his in a steady amount of pressure. They were almost interlocking. Holding. Wrist on top of wrist–his with the extra harshness of his leather and chain bracelet on your skin. The heaviness of his forearm resting on yours.

Truly, the accident lasted all of two pumps of your heart, but it felt like more when he stroked his calloused fingertips over your knuckles as he let go.

“Sorry!” he blurted.

“S-Sorry,” you laughed, jittery from the encounter.

Your cheeks were hot. His were flushed red. The lewd moaning of a woman feigning to orgasm just from the male lead removing her bra alone played in the background. Neither of you could decide which plan of escape was less embarrassing: continuing to stare like idiots at each other, or watch the actress’ ginormous boobs bounce as she faked riding a guy.

You blinked. His eyebrows ticced up.

Boobs it was.

He adjusted how he sat, tugging his jeans down his legs a little, and crossing his arms. Eyes laser focused on the woman’s face. The why was obvious, and you couldn’t help but tease him for pretending to be a gentleman in your company when you held no such modesty when it came to ogling her tits.

“Thinking about how much Aquanet she uses?”

“Shut up.”

————

Later into the film, after the plot circled back to the juicy gore, you leaned into Eddie to ask him a question.

What that question was, you couldn’t remember.

As soon as you placed your elbow on the armrest and used the back of your hand to tap his shoulder, he dipped his head to hear you. It was an automatic thing starting from the moment you slouched in your seat. That’s all. A shift in your sitting position and intake of breath, and he knew you were going to speak, and he wanted to listen. He cared about what you had to say. He leaned into you as well, because listening to you took priority over the movie.

“Eddie?” You sought any words. Any words at all. Any would do. Any question, even if you knew the answer. “Uhm. The music sounds really familiar. Do you recognize it?”

“It’s the same composer as Chopping Mall and Deathstalker II.”

“Ah.”

Ah. All you could muster when you were charmed by the silhouette of his lips moving. Watching them form letters, pout on the plosives, press into a line on his thick swallow.

Ah. All you could say when his hair brushed over your fingers. Dry, in need of a deep conditioning. Curling around your forefinger. Tickling your palm.

Ah. All you could respond with when you lifted your gaze, and caught him staring at you like you stared at him.

————

As predicted, the filmmakers padded the runtime with another topless scene, and the movie ended on a witty one liner that included not one, but two puns, and no resolution to the numerous plot threads left hanging.

“That was.. certainly something!” Robin summed up, holding the doors open to the subdued hours of the night.

Once outside in the fresh air, the dynamic reverted back to its original status.

Your friends made themselves scarce in the worst way; whistling, shuffling to the side as they found asinine things to comment on, leaving you and Eddie alone. Their intentions were pure, but reality was not so kind.

Eddie cemented his gaze on the sidewalk as he picked at his callouses, and apologized for the mistake of going out with you. Again. “Sorry about all this.”

Itchy sweat broke out across your back. It sucked he was so brazen about rejecting you. You had  hoped some of the tender crush you had on him extended past the armrest you shared, the looks you shared, the touches you shared; but maybe you were just tricking yourself into finding things that weren’t there.

Wanting to end on a better note, you appealed to him in a last ditch effort to smooth over the situation, “I meant it when I said you looked good tonight. It’s nice to see you outside of your work clothes.”

“Thanks.”

That’s all. Thanks. A shy glance from beneath his curtain of messy hair, and a somber tone to maximize the awkwardness of the not-date with your coworker.

You needed to get the hell out of there. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

The group winced in unison when they saw the way you two departed.

Robin was quick to link her arm with yours and gather you closer, bringing your heads together to gossip as you walked back to her car. “That bad, huh?”

Around the corner and out of sight, you gave her half a smile, trying to appear in better spirits. “Well, I don’t think he likes me. He didn’t return any of my compliments, and he apologized for being on a date with me no less than four times over the course of the evening.”

She cringed for you. “That’s worse than Balloon Guy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, remembering what would go down in history as the shittiest date you’d been on. “Yeah, that’s more times than Balloon Guy.” Robin hugged you tighter, making your steps go clumsy. She apologized for Eddie’s weirdness, but you shrugged. Maybe you were supposed to find it weird, too. Maybe you were supposed to disapprove of the idea of romantic feelings for your coworker, too. Maybe you were supposed to have no expectations for it to lead anywhere, too.

Maybe you were supposed to reject him, too.

————

Still loitering outside the theater, Steve exchanged a look with Nancy, and jogged to catch up with Eddie before he made it too far in the opposite direction.

“Uh, hey buddy!” Steve clapped him on the shoulder to stop him. “It sounded like you two were hitting it off during the movie, what happened?”

Eddie sulked under the question. His chest fell with a surrendering sigh, and his boots scraped the concrete as he turned to him, not bothering to mask the dullness in his slack expression. Everything about him was tired, including his voice when he slipped into a lower, raspy octave. “She’s nice, but..”

“But what?” Nancy asked, searching his face.

Bottling his burdens, he clenched his teeth, and worked his jaw as he contemplated evading their insistent prying; but after ruminating on it, he explained the source of his problems, “She lives a very.. whimsy life.” He fluttered his hand like a bird flapping its wings, or a butterfly. “She does this thing where she says ‘yes’ to anything anyone asks her; it’s why she moved to Hawkins, and why she ended up on this date to begin with. Y’know, just doing whatever seems like fun. It’s cute, in a way, and obviously I.. feel a way towards her, but this place isn’t where she’s looking to lay down roots. New York is her home.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, knowing what was about to come.

“I’ve already been left for someone better.. I can’t go through that again.” Eddie’s eyes begged them to understand. “I don’t want Adrie to get attached to someone who’s just gonna leave.”

Nancy started, “Eddie–You don’t know if she’d leave.”

He shook his head, and pulled away from Steve’s lingering grasp. Shushed his friend’s well-meaning words about him being valued, and to forget his insecurities about not being good enough.

“A girl like that doesn’t need me weighing her down,” Eddie said, imparting the wisdom he’d come to accept since you made a mark on his life weeks ago, when it became your mission to befriend him. “I’ll pick up Adrie in the morning. Thanks for watching her.”

The night got darker as he left.

Darker still, when Steve waved at his back, and Nancy played with the locket around her neck, and her goodbye went disregarded.

————

Silence.

It surrounded him. Blood pulsing in his ears, his heart beat, the refrigerator hum, the tink of glass bottles as he grabbed the full six pack and brought it to the couch, springs squeaking under his weight.

Utter emptiness welcomed him.

Not a sound in his home. Not a giggle from his daughter, or scrape of a skillet from Wayne’s makeshift breakfast-dinner before he went to work. Even the dogs around the trailer park were quiet.

Just.. nothing.

It was what he wanted, right? A night to himself; a break from the chores, the questions, the food making, the taking care of a tiny human being who made everything tougher than it needed to be.

He got his wish.

Two beers down in peace, he got his wish.

Eddie looked around his trailer lit by the single lamp beside him.

Quiet, empty, nothing.

Dark silence.

The jolt of his sob startled him. It erupted from his chest so suddenly. Ripped from the tightness of repressed emotions; the things he tried to deny, to feel and then lock away. To keep safe, buried down deep where he could manage them from progressing past the boundaries he created for his own good, and Adrie’s. He felt the agony of them all at once. The morning smiles, the afternoon laughs, the evenings of pretending you didn’t plan to bump into each other in the doorway to the lobby. The game of seeing how long he could watch you twirl the phone cord around your finger before you looked up from your desk. Your sweet way of comforting him after the hard nights of Adrie’s sleep regression by taking his tan work jacket and draping it over his shoulders while he slept at the lunch table in the break room. Your gentle method of fixing his collar when it was tucked on the inside of his coveralls.

The date was too good to be true.

In fact, the truth itself was far more painful.

The date was amazing. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had more fun. More thrills, sure. But not more fun. There wasn’t a day in his youth where he experienced more of the flirty thrum in his veins than when he committed himself to learning the way your lips moved when saying his name in the darkened theater.

The date was perfect. He was happy. And he couldn’t have it again. Shouldn’t have it again. Wouldn’t have these feelings again.

Eddie doubled over and put his third beer on the floor before he spilled it. Nothing was discernible beyond the water invading his ability to see, to fathom his reflection in the old TV. Sad, miserable, and lonely. An idiot for finally getting attached to someone, and it was someone he wasn’t supposed to.

Tears slipped from between his lashes. He smeared them on his cheeks, covering his sweaty face from his possessions bearing witness to his stupidity.

It was in his best interest to reject you–reject your casual stance on dating, and relationships, and people with kids–but the face you made when your advances went underappreciated churned his stomach.

He needed to be stronger. But he was weak.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighed into the stale air. Opening another beer, he nursed it as he huddled into the corner of the couch, and searched for Adrie’s quilt to soothe him. But of course, he sent it with her when he dropped her off at Steve’s.

No baby blanket to hold onto. No Adrienne to sleep on his chest to ease the pain of loneliness. No reason to look forward to Monday after he royally screwed everything up.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned.

Maybe, if he apologized enough, there was a chance you wouldn’t hate him.

Maybe, if you forgave him, you’d go back to the morning smiles, and the afternoon laughs.

And maybe, if he was enough of a masochist, he’d let you gently ease past those boundaries meant to keep you, and your kindness out. If you wanted to trespass, that is. He didn’t know. He was an idiot.

[13ghostlytitties]

MHA has ended: how do I feel?

Well, if you wanted my exact reaction, this was what I sent my friends after reading the summary:

So, It’s been years since I’ve actually read the series. Still, I’ve kept up with what’s happened in broad strokes, and I’d like to read it all in one go now that I know it’s finished and what’s happened (can’t be disappointed if you don’t have your hopes up, I guess). I know enough and have read the reactions of others enough to see that this ended, and the whole final war saga and what’s happened with it, isn’t especially popular with fans beyond those who just read for cool fights and don’t delve any deeper. My thoughts?

Well, it ended how I expected. More accurately, it didn’t create any new problems because, to me, everything people seem to be picking at is just the endpoints of problems that have existed in this series for a long time.

Let’s go blow-for-blow here. There’s some aspects like the stuff with the LoV that I don’t feel as confident speaking about because I don’t know as much, so ill be sticking with what I’m pretty confident in saying. We’ll start with:

1: Midoriya lost his Quirk, became a teacher instead of a hero

I would like to start this with a touch of positivity and say that, if he really isn’t gonna be a hero, I think hero teacher is very fitting for Midoriya. He’s got the personality for it, he has the experience for it, and it’s kind of a nice feeling that he’s there to help the ones coming after him.

So, personally, I’ve never been that into the way OFA works. I love Quirks that stick to the theme and idea that these are biologically mutations, especially when they play on classic superpowers (Shiozaki, Iida, Tsuburaba, Shoji, Ashido, Asui, etc.). Whether or not you think Midoriya should still have his power or not, the fact that he lost it and thus didn’t become a pro hero is not a new problem. That’s what happened to Ragdoll, to Hawks, to Togata (temporarily), to Knuckleduster in Vigilantes. No Quirk means no superhero. We learned that in the first chapter. Sure, it ended with All Might saying to Quirkless Midoriya “you can be a hero,” but you then you turn the page to chapter 2 and we see what he meant - “you can be a hero because I’m giving you a Quirk.” Midoriya not being a hero after losing his Quirk shouldn’t that shocking as the idea that you can be a Quirkless hero has never been on the table. “But wait,” you say, “Midoriya got a special power suit at the end and got to be a hero again with everyone else. All Might did something similar against AFO, so doesn’t that count as being a hero with no Quirk?” Well, sure, but it took 8 years and apparently a shit-ton of money to make it happen. They’re the exception to the rule. And how did they become the exceptions? Connections and accolades from when they did have Quirks. It’s the same reason why Midoriya couldn’t have his full-circle “you can be a hero” moment with an actual Quirkless kid like he was: it’d be a lie, to the kid and the audience. Speaking of…

2: Plate Boy can be a hero too!

Like I said, they couldn’t have this be a Quirkless kid because that’d go against everything that we’ve been shown up until now. Because of that, this moment is severely handicapped, to the point where I wonder if having the lie would’ve been the lesser of two evils compared to wasting a lot of time of this ending on someone who’s anxious about a starting point that is, in essence, better off than Midoriya’s starting point. If you can’t actually complete the full circle, you can’t really have that full circle moment, and the fact that this story could not have that should make the disparity of where it started vs. where it went all the more clear

3: the class losing touch, drifting apart

This may be just me, but I never really thought of Class 1-A as that much of a unit. So many of them are kept to the sidelines, so many arcs just focus on Midoriya and a couple others, usually just Bakugo and Todoroki (another group I never bought as a real cohesive group), to the point where it felt rare to have them feel like a team. Can you really say, just reading the manga, that they’re in the same vein as the Straw Hat Pirates, the Stardust Crusaders, the Black Bulls, etc. It was only rare times that they all came together in a big way, and it usually kept things to little cliques. Now, I’m not saying that the solution would have been evenly juggling 20 characters and making them all having unique connections with each other. It’s not feasible for a professional, serialized manga that has to worry about pacing, audience interest, worldbuilding, characters outside of their class, etc. (Honestly, I think the best way would have been 4 classes of 10 students instead of 2 of 20, but that’s neither here nor there.). All I can really say is, can you really be so heartbroken about 20 people who only rarely were seen interacting and working all together mostly drifting apart?

4: the structure of the Hero Association and stuff like the rankings are still in place

Again, I must say, this is an issue that’s been deeply rooted in the series. To begin, a lot of time throughout the series has indeed been about how messed up hero society has become. Even in the first chapter, we get a lot of time to take in how commercialized it’s become, how many heroes see it as just a job or even as a fame contest for riches and glory. Mt. Lady in chapter 1 was the example given of someone out for fame and money, so much so that she’s placed herself in an ill-suited environment for her power (a crowded city where she can’t maneuver properly without causing serious damage) just because it’s where more people will notice her and where there’s more villains to fight. The function of Bakugo in Chapter 1, remember, was that he was an egotistical glory hound looking to ride his innate power to glory, fame, and riches.

And further in, when we first learn about Endeavor’s deal, we’re being introduced to him as the logical endpoint of this system. He’s obsessed to the point of extreme measures, including buying a woman to marry with a strong Quirk, forcing her to have enough kids that he’ll get a suitable heir, and harshly training that heir into someone who can take his place in the societal totem pole that is the ranking of heroes. So, with all that said, why am I saying that it’s not a surprise this stuff is still around in the epilogue? Well, it’s because all of this bad stuff gets a facelift as time goes on. Bakugo became popular, so his image was cleaned up for the reader, the whole “get rich” angle was dropped, and other characters started loving and respecting him without the need for his shitty attitude to change. Endeavor was given a long, screen time-hogging “redemption arc” where the people he terrible abused forgave him. Even Mt. Lady became more noble as time went on. MHA has a serious issue with retconning its traits and brushing aside heavy topics for the sake of easy solutions and appealing to who and what is popular with fans. And, sure, give the fans what they want, but don’t do it at the cost of your story. Anyway, this is become a ramble, so I’ll get back on track. Hero rankings and the institutions of pro heroes is another part of the story that gets this sort of easy solution. It’s still around, but it’s run by “the good guys” now (It’s not like power corrupts, right? I’m sure the guy who idolizes Endeavor wouldn’t have an issues with the idea that people in power can use that power for bad things). They’ve learned, really, for true, so everything’s gonna be fine now, pinky-swears it. It really is just like Naruto’s ending, in that sense. The structures of power that have been criticized from the start are still around in the end, but because certain issues (mostly unrelated to that institution’s issues) have been dealt with, and because “the good guys” are now in charge, we’re just supposed to expect things are fine now and will be for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve really got to see. I know there are more issues people are talking about, but those are the ones I have something to say about. So, what’s the verdict? Is it a good ending? A bad ending?

It’s an ending, that’s enough.

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 33 - Home

Author's note: We're almost to the end. The next chapter will be the epilogue. I have so many feels. It will feel good to finish writing a story.

Masterlist - Part 32

Content: Vampire whumpee, vaguely referenced sexual abuse, emotional angst, lost time

........................................

Hyrum ran ahead of the group through the trees, still in that huge wolfdog form, barking and howling with excitement, tail wagging behind himself as he bounded over streams and logs. Ephraim, who had Benny’s arm over his shoulder, felt his energy coming back just watching the pup enjoy the sun streaming through the leaves. 

Kortops and Halia walked, arms linked, deft flaps of their wings getting them over obstructions. 

Benny had been very quiet since waking up and Ephraim assumed he needed some time to think while he healed from the fight they had. Ephraim didn't mind. He needed time to think as well. 

Besides, it was wonderful to look at the normal plantlife, hearing the soft sounds of birds and water, no mists to obscure their vision. It looked like time had moved strangely while they were in the fae realm. That was to be expected. It was well into summer, now, when it had been autumn when he left. He hoped everyone was okay. He hoped that Margaret was still alive. 

“How long has it been?” Benny asked softly, apparently having a similar thought process. 

“About 53 years if it’s July now,” Ephraim said, and Benny’s head hung a little lower. “It’s not your fault.”

“Feels like it,” he whispered. “If I had been a little stronger. I knew what was happening was wrong. I didn’t even like being her husband, but-”

“You were charmed,” Ephraim said firmly. “And now we can move on. We’re home. You’re home.”

Benny lifted his head, and Ephraim felt sick to his stomach seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Ephraim, I don’t think I belong here anymore. I’m…. I’ve been….”

Ephraim could see the words that wouldn’t come out. Defiled, disgusting, corrupted, sickened, a completely different man lost in a familiar world.

Ephraim sighed. “Benny, do you remember what I told you after you’d recovered from being turned?”

Benny frowned, trying to remember, but his charm-addled mind had caused the memory to completely leave him. His shoulders hitched with a sob as he shook his head. 

“That’s okay. I want to tell you,” Ephraim said warmly, trying to keep any worry out of his voice, rubbing his thumb over Benny’s neck. “We live for a very long time, Benny, if everything goes well for us. That gives us a lot of time to change. We are never going to be the same person as we were a decade ago, okay? And that’s okay. It takes a lot of bravery to face that, to try and keep up with the ever changing world and with the change within ourselves. We will live to see horrors beyond anything most mortals can comprehend, and we have to learn how to handle it, okay? I am so sorry it happened so early. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from being taken that day, but we have to take this in stride and we have to keep going.”

Benny was silent for a long moment and Ephraim took another breath. “You know that I was a gladiator once. A long time ago.”

Benny nodded. He felt more awake, especially at the mention of the part of Ephraim’s life that the older vampire quite often refused to talk about. It was still hard to imagine Ephraim as a gladiator. Maybe that was just because Benny had seen him plant too many sunflowers. 

“I didn’t want to be a gladiator,” Ephraim sighed. “I had been captured for being a vampire and sold around until I ended up in a gladiator ring. I was trapped there for years, Benny. Fighting and killing just so I could have a meal once every few days. I was sick, but still stronger than the humans they kept sending in to fight me, trying to slay me like some monster…. It took me a long time after I’d won my freedom to figure myself out. I couldn’t make friends for a long time, I acted like the monster they’d trained me to be, and I didn’t even have a safe place to sleep. I know how you feel, and you have to remember that you are the only one in charge of your emotions and actions. You have to take your life into your hands and make it what you will.”

“But I don’t know what-”

“You don’t have to right now. And I’ll let you in on a secret. You never will. You just have to decide what you like from life, what you think it would be fun to be, and go for it.”

Benny thought about that for a moment. That seemed easier said than done, and he didn’t like how lost it still made him feel, but Ephraim was right, Ephraim was almost always right. He’d been around long enough to know things like this. 

“Thank you. For the advice and for….. Getting me out of there.”

“Not sure how much help I actually was for that,” Ephraim said with a chuckle. “There’s the cottage.”

Benny looked up and his knees nearly gave out, seeing the beautiful cottage, the garden fairly well tended. It seemed Ephraim had been away for a while but someone had taken the time to put the garden in order. 

He saw Hyrum run into the garden, sniffing at everything, stopping to roll in the grass before getting up and dashing into the house, turning into a human on the way in through the door. 

Benny could hear voices inside and soon enough Hyrum came back out, wrapped in a blanket. It seemed that his clothing got shredded when he took his large wolf form. 

“Eef! Margaret is here!”

Benny perked up, gathering his energy to let go of Ephraim, walking on his own as a man who smelled like herbs and teas stepped out, surprised. Benny felt a pang of sadness, realizing this man was old enough to have kids, but he couldn’t have been alive when Benny left. He would only know the old members of the village. 

He pushed that thought inside. He needed to see Margaret. 

He stumbled up, past the garden, past the two fae who stopped to look at the flowers, giggling to one another, past the pup and to the cottage stoop, leaning hard on the railing. 

He faintly heard Ephraim commenting on everything new as the man stepped aside, surprised. 

Benny stepped up onto the stoop, which hadn’t been there before, and through the door. 

He looked around so quickly, it made him dizzy. Finally, he spotted a wizened old woman on the couch, only the faintest traces of who she had been marked on her face. 

“Margie?” he whispered, looking at who was once his younger sister. Younger? Really? How could he possibly be older!?

She looked up from the medicine pouches she was assembling with a deep frown, only for her eyes to dull with confusion when she looked at him. 

“Who…. no…. Benny?”

Benny nodded with a sob, stepping across to the couch where he sat down heavily, wrapping his arms around his sister, kissing the thinning grey hairs on the top of her head. 

She grabbed his arm with a gnarled claw, grunting as she weakly pushed him off. 

She looked him over more critically. “In the name of Lady Death, Benjamin Ashmaker. What are you wearing?”

He looked down at the tight leathers, split and torn in places from his fight and smelling of werewolf slobber. “I…. I’m not sure, anymore. I’ll change as soon as I can.”

Ephraim stepped through the front door, a tired little smile on his face and Margie looked angry at him more than anything. “There’s the slacker. Where in the world have you been, then? Something to do with Benny here?”

“Yeah. That Sorcerer, Jack, he kidnapped Hyrum and we ended up in the fae realm. Your brother’s been playing spouse to the Queen all this time. Good thing he did, too, or he would have been killed.”

Ephraim came to kneel on the floor, taking Margie’s spotted hands. Benny swallowed hard against tears that tried to rise up when he saw that. She was so…. Old. Lady Death was standing behind her, practically. Ephraim had warned him about this part of being a vampire, and he had been ready to handle it when he thought he would be able to spend all of these years watching these people, his sister, grow old. But no. He’d been taken, gone for what felt like 16 years and came back to find his sister about to return home to the great beyond. 

There wasn't enough time.

Margie turned her eyes back to Benjamin, hardened with time and grief, but still the same woman who always called him foolish and a ‘man who attracts trouble like seeds attract birds.’ And despite the pain he saw there, he was glad to see her eyes and mind were clear. “Benny…. I have an apology to make to you and to Ephraim. I had thought you dead. I had lost hope. I am sorry. I should have believed…..”

Ephraim put a hand on her knee. “Don’t you worry, Margie. Hope is painful, and I hoped enough for the both of us.”

“If it helps at all,” Benny said, almost in a whisper, “I… I didn’t feel abandoned.”

“PSHAW! Probably because you were charmed out of your mind!” she said in a high croaking voice. “Foolish man! Trouble maker, that you are. Spouse of the Queen, indeed. Foolish. So very foolish!”

Tears were spilling from her eyes, following the creases and wrinkles as she slowly leaned forward, bones popping and creaking as she wrapped her arms around Benny. 

Benny buried his face in her shoulder, the tears and sobs fully escaping. He didn’t want to mourn the lost time. He needed to focus on the time he had now with his sister, with his mentor. But it just wasn’t fair. He’d lost so much time, so much blood and memory, so much innocence, so much of himself, and for what!? For what!?

He felt Ephraim rub his back as he cried. Ephraim understood. He always seemed to understand. It was a small comfort in the abyss of grief and confusion Benny found himself in. 

And maybe it would be enough. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore. And he still had time with Margie. He was so very lucky to have been found before she… before-

The man he’d passed at the door cleared his throat. “So, ah, are those fae out in the garden with Hyrum?”

Ephraim started. “Oh, yes. I’ll need to explain that. You two catch up, alright? I’ll come bug you later, Margie. Looks like there’s no rest for the wicked.”

“I should hope not,” Margie huffed. “Making us all worry all winter and spring. You have a lot to answer for.”

Ephraim left with a laugh and a wave, and the door closed on Benny and Margie, years apart and yet still as close as the day Benny was taken to the fae realms. 

Epilogue

Hey you! Yes you! I want to have a sort of askathon about this story once this is done. Have questions about this story? Meta or clarifications on cannon? Please send them so I can answer some as a celebration of finishing this series. Thank you so so much for reading this series, and I hope you will enjoy the epilogue. If you are reading this way after the series is over, still feel free to send in asks. It is good for a writer to remember the stories they have created, even if they are over. <3

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis @scatteriskity

[jgydidnothingwrong]

Fic Writer Q&A

Tagged by @cryptidafter

How many wips do you have currently?

1. songxue hanahaki au. This one has priority and that’s the only thing I will say. 

2. bingyao. Basically, Luo Bingge jumping universes to found that nice shizun, getting trapped in the mdzs universe, meeting Meng Yao and offering him sex to he could develop a proper core. The Meng Yao getting cured with magical dick fic, basically. 

3. dinohiba, the usual bullshit about them being no in love lol (Dino thinking about what’s worse or best? Having sex with an illegal teenager because he’s in love? Or is the love an excuse and he’s only a pervert?) (based on “Baby said”, so Kyoya is there, like “shut up, let’s fuck lol) (I basically don’t care about the underage, but is funny to torture Dino from time to time)

4. xiyao idol!Meng Yao au. Based (lightly) on My Beautiful Man. Lan XiChen in this is a person justifying his obsession with “the fans online say this is normal, actually”. 

5. Third chapter of the alien au!! The xuexiao one!! I’ve finally decided Song Lan role in the story (he’s sadly dead). Another chapter in my very personal au based on Bloodchild, about humans accepting being used as host to aliens babies in exchange for living a comfortable life in another world. I love this fic, is my very special baby. This chapter is gonna fit the “love” from the title (Is “Greed, Horror, Love”). An love is violence. Love is violent in it’s nature and is Xue Yang’s love for his own life, and Xiao XingChen’s love for Song Lan who lead her to use Xue Yang because she will lose what’s left from Song Lan (in this universe, the female aliens are the ones who do the trade with humans, males are too savage, and maybe not developed enough, is not clear, but that’s how I will play it. Males die early and females store the sperm until they’re ready. That’s also not into the original story, but I need to invent some things).

6. Fierce corpse Meng Shi. So, basically Meng Shi died and turned into one for whatever reason and Jin GuangYao discovered when he moved her corpse to the temple, she’s been quiet because of the prayer and all that. My problem with this is, I can’t decide if I want a happy ending, like, Meng Shi saving Jin GuangYao, or if I want to turn it into a little horror, in the form of Meng Shi taking her son back because he was safe when he was inside of her body… and that’s why is still not finished. 

7. The xiyao fucking by mistake. Basically, Meng Yao tired of his life and watching JZX having a freaking amazing party while he gets nothing, so for one day, he wants to said “fuck it” to all. But he doesn’t believe in relationships, so he hires a scort. And Lan XiChen, by mistake, comes to his room. 

I have more but I’m tired haha

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?

THE ALIEN AU!!!

Every chapter takes me a year from the moment I start, because I like this one very much, and I don’t want to feel like I’m insulting Octavia Butler, so I try to make it good. 

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

It doesn’t. I don’t wait for the inspiration anymore. But sometimes, in a good day, my brain feels alive, so I write. But I also write when my braid is dying. I write and expect for that spark to shine.

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

No, unless I decided for a song before, it doesn't matter, I don’t bother myself with it. Usually, the D18 have songs. Like, the one I’m writing is “Baby Said”, the last xiyao was “El Hombre Pájaro” and the epilogue for Silk Cage exists because of “Luz de día” but I don’t stress myself with thinking songs. 

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organized?

Balls to the wall, I never organize anything lol.

Tagging: @mostlikelytofangirl @unfortunatelycake

And whoever wants to do it

[oksana-moods]

Queens of Promise - Part 5

Summary: The plot thickens.

 A/N: Hey you all! I don't even know what to say here rs It feels like a decade has passed and certainly feels odd to come back after such a long time. I don't know if there are people still interested in this story, but after a request of a dear friend of mine, I decided to post what's already written and work on the last chapter (the only one I haven't fully written yet, only on script).

I'd like to explain that my writing time got reduced by a lot of reasons, but mainly, 2022 was a bittersweet year that I'll definitely remember for the rest of my life.

Without further ado, let's get back to the story, shall we? Everything until chapter 10 is written and almost ready to be posted, I'll just look for typos or other mistakes and you shall have it really soon. For real this time. Chapter 11 however, the final chapter, is still on progress but I promise I will give you the end of this story.

Please, let me know your thoughts.

-Previous parts here

Trigger Warnings: Violence, language, mentions of blood and war. If there is any other that should be mentioned, let me know.

Into your eyes, hopeless and taken

Triskelion Castle

“Absolutely not.” Queen Calanthe manifests her disapproval to your latest idea. “I’m not letting you play spy and into Sokovia’s territory, no less. It’s not time for games. We are at war.”

For the thousandth time, you sighed. You tried countless ideas of how to learn the Maximoff’s plans with the Kree and none of them seemed to please your mother.

“Well, what do you suggest? We need to find out what they are up to, messing with the Kree.” You spat the word Kree as if venom tainted your tongue. “You can’t expect me to sit on this. I’m going to discover this one way or another, even if requires me to interrogate Princess Maximoff myself.”

“I suppose you discarded that idea few months ago.” She seethed, referring to when you had the princess within reach, but you chose to let her go and you hated how she was right. You hated even more not knowing why you allowed her to run away, in first place.

Loki cleared his throat trying to clear the air in the room and intervened with an option. “Perhaps we could send a small unit to the harbor?” He folded his hands behind his back and started to explain his idea. “We know for sure that winter is closing down on us, therefore there’s only one harbor in Starksland that any commotion could happen.”

“Hogan’s harbor.” You spoke, grasping what he was proposing. Loki, in turn, flashes you an appreciative smile, he always admired your intelligence and how receptive you were with those who you trust.

“Precisely. If Kree were to arrive with troops or anything else, that would be the place.” He lifted his hand and started to enumerate the facts that supported his theory. “Hogan is a small town, there’s not many prying eyes. They could count with the snow to slow down Stark’s troops. No resistance whatsoever, not until they are far inland and with the large number of trade routes, they could very well disappear until they’re fanning on our necks.”

You looked at him with a smile on your own. You always prayed to the Gods for your mother to live for more than hundred years, but the idea of your ascension as Queen seemed a little bit less scary because you knew he’ll be by your side, sharing his wise.

You turned to him and grabbed his head forcibly and gave two kisses on his cheeks. “Uh brother, you’re brilliant. I knew we kept you around for something more than just your pretty face.” You finish with a smile, which grew wider after his reply.

“Thank you. I have a pretty face indeed.” He straightened his robes from imaginary crinkles, suddenly uncomfortable with your praise.

You turned to your mother, head spinning with ideas, and started to share them. The meeting went for hours without end, but this time plans were discussed instead of rejecting ideas and later that day, you had convinced the queen that your unit should be the one set off for this quest.

After the assembly, you stayed behind in her meeting room. Her eyes were set on your form, while you pretended to busy yourself admiring an old painting celebrating the bravery of your family on some ancient battle. The painting showed some gran-gran-mother regally mounting a white horse, wielding a sword in the middle of a battle. You wondered how many lives were lost for that ancestor to gain this work of art.

“Do you think her mother doubted her worth?” You spoke quietly, after a moment contemplating the moment eternized on the wall. From the corner of your eye, you could see your mother’s head turn to you harshly.

“Oh my love, I never doubted you.” She took few steps and you turned to look at her fully now. The crease between her brows were deep and there was worry in her eyes.

“Yet, you weaken your troops on the battlefield by keeping my company away. You don’t trust me anymore.” Your voice was flat, as if analyzing an event and not delivering how bad it bothered you.

She took the remaining steps between you and grabbed your hands in hers, giving light squeezes. “I’m a mother and you’re my daughter, my only daughter. After your abduction by the Kree, I went berserk and didn’t stop until I had you in my arms again.”

Her eyes were hard, but they showed so much love that you felt your feet slightly out of balance. “Oh, when I saw your fragile, beaten form laying on your bed that night I vowed that I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way again.”

She paused just for a few seconds to make sure you were following. “And this war has so many blind spots, so many white blanks that scares me, my love. I can’t lose you.” She squeezed your hand harder this time. “And Taharr can’t lose you.”

You looked at the emotion seeping from her eyes, and it was once in a lifetime to see the queen Calanthe so vulnerable, so human. “One of the first lessons you taught me was to serve my kingdom. No matter what.” She laughed dryly, of course you’d use her words and ‘lessons’ against her. “And I am good, mother. I need you to see that.”

She cupped your face with her hands and caressed your cheeks with her thumbs. “You are the best, my love, you are my daughter and I taught you myself. If anything, I made sure the greatest warriors in this world prepared you to be the best knight in Noveria, even better than myself. But, in the end of the day, I’m still a mother worried about my cub.” She smiled lightly and you smiled as well.

As a queen, she knew better. From early age, she made you learn how to fight with all weapons and even without one. The same time spent with physical training was dedicated to study the numbers, letters, history, geography, politics, religions, beliefs and even agriculture. After all, knowledge is never too much and information could be a weapon itself, if harnessed properly.

You nodded but still counterattacked. “But I know that your permission had more to do with the fact that I’ll be away from the front than to my investigation skills. It stings.” She was about to speak but you stopped her. “You can’t protect me forever, mother. We are at war and in Taharr there’s always war.”

This time she nodded and took few steps away from you. “I know and you’re right, but I’m old and one day you’ll step up as the Queen of Taharr and I have to make sure that you’ll live long enough.” Her words sink heavily in your stomach, the veracity of her statement hit you like a rock.

Your mother fought her battles, had her share of wars and now she was looking to the future, worried about the type of person would assume her crown when the time comes. “Do you think I’m reckless? Do I embarrass you?” Your voice was low, exposed and she hated to see you second guessing yourself. She always loved your spirit, even though they brought a fair amount of headache.

“Never.” Her voice was firm, and she spoke the truth of her heart. “I’m nothing but proud of who you are. You’re strong, intelligent and you’re never afraid of fighting for your people. You’re a true lioness.” Her soft smile turned into a small smirk. “As for reckless, I can’t judge your youth’s spirit. I remember giving my father few grey hairs due my own adventures.”

You snorted at her choice of words, and you wondered if you’d ever learn how to speak like this. You wondered if you’d ever be half of the woman she was and a quarter of the queen she was. There were many things you wondered, and you feared you wouldn’t be that good. “Do you think I’ll be a good queen?” Again, your voice was small, foreign-like small, showing her your inner doubts.

You knew you could handle a fight; you knew you had learnt troop maneuvers enough to overpower an enemy during a war, but could you run your kingdom with the perfect balance between ruthlessness and kindness as your mother? Could you guide your people during the darkest times when it comes?

“I know you’ll be the greatest queen to ever grace these lands, even more marvelous than Queen Maria Hill.” Pointing at the Great Queen on the painting in front of you, she spoke with a certainty that pushed away the worries hammering your head and heart, at least for now.

You shook your head amused and locked eyes with her. “Will I be as good as you?” Her smile was bright, thanking you wordlessly for your praise, then she replied. “Oh love, you’ll be better than me, for you have a heart of gold. And when the day come, I’ll be a delighted queen and a proud mother.” She finished with a glint in her eyes, and you nodded you head, smiling lightly.

She patted the seat by her side on the balcony, welcoming you to enjoy a cup of tea admiring the beautiful fall tinting the trees and fields on the outskirts of Triskelion of orange, dark red and light brown as the maple leaves adorned the grounds.

--

You were still thinking about the conversation you had had with your mother when a nudge on your ribs brought you back to reality and you looked to its source only to find Lady Rambeau nodding towards a specific door at the back of a decaying pub near the docks.

You narrowed your eyes and saw a young woman stepping inside of it and you smiled, for you knew who she was. And something told you that, after weeks lurking around Hogan Village, today was your lucky day.

You waited on your spot for a while longer and a soldier reported that there was no sign of Scarlet Knight or Black Widow, something foreign stirred in your stomach when they said Princess Wanda was nowhere to be seen, it was almost as if you were disappointed.

But why? You shook your head and chewed your own lip, weighting your options and thinking about what your next step should be.

This time, it was your turn to nudge Maria’s side and beckon her to follow you. You signaled for everybody else stay on their posts and wait for new instructions, then you strolled to the pub’s entrance.

Once inside, you immediately asked for a beer, to blend in with other costumers and locals. You leaned on the counter and tried to find sokovian soldiers. “I’m counting two on the right corner and another by the window, the one with white hat.” Your words were low, to make sure only Maria would hear them.

She nodded and turned her body, leaning on the counter, pretending to be bored with her beer stein. “You missed the guy by the side door.” She took a sip of the liquid and used all her mighty to not spat the content on the floor, pursing her lips. “This beer is worse than piss.”

You snorted. “You know, the mere notion that you can make such comparison scares me.” Lady Rambeau sniffled her laughs as to not get unwanted attention. “Come, is time for us to have a chat.” Silently, she followed you to the table were the person you were after was.

“Oh. Squire Kate Bishop, fancy seeing you here.” Your spoke loud enough for the girl in front of you hear you properly, but not loud enough to attract unnecessary attention. You were disguised as trader and so was your partner, but your face was not particularly unknown.

Despite being low, your voice still made her jump, startled, then she turned back to look at you.

“It’s Knight Kate Bishop, actually.” She raised her chin, proudly and you almost felt bad for her. Unbeknownst to her, she gave you more information with that single sentence than she could’ve imagined.

She was proud of her title and so was of her mission, for sure. Therefore, the mission was bound to be important. Therefore, Scarlet Knight should be close and had interest in whatever was going on. Therefore, it’d be a matter of time for you to learn what it was.

You smiled at her. “That’s quite the title, kid. I’m sure you can handle it, though.” You spoke then you let your eyes stray to the stash of papers on her hands.

“I’m sorry, what name did you introduce yourself with?” She tried. You were lucky indeed.

“I didn’t.” Smiling you retreated from the bar and went to the camping on the outskirts of the city, where you shared your knowledge with your companions. The stash of papers in Bishop’s hands were ship manifests, they meant supplies were about to arrive and you knew just when, for you read the ships names.

Forel Star and Valar Zirtys, both braavosi ships and that made no sense in this crescent pile of strange allies sought for Sokovia. First Kree, now Braavos. Unless…

Something popped in your head.

It was known to a lot of people in other continents, but only a few in Noveria knew and, fortunately, you were one of them. One of the papers had the Ragman’s Harbor stamp on it, which means the ship’s last stop was a harbor that’s open to all foreign ships, unlike Purple Harbor, which tends exclusively local braavosi ships.

Obviously, said ships could have made a quick stop in Braavos coming from another place and after loading the new cargo, set off to Hogan’s Harbor. However, there was this nagging feeling that this was a diversion. Maybe, the Kree used the braavosi harbor to laundry the load as to avoid suspicious. Very meticulous.

The question is, what Sokovia had offered in return?

You could be wrong, but the more you thought about it, the more all the details seemed to click into place. Your instincts never failed you.

You were sure they weren’t start just now.

------

Somewhere between Sokovia and Taharr borders

The road to the Krogani Lakes seemed endless, especially with so many turns, road depressions and lakes to go around that took one moon for Wanda’s troops to move from the outskirts of Hogan’s Village to the battlefront.

Even though the interminable trip was a nuisance in itself, the princess felt her restlessness growing with each day. The wagons transporting their goods could turn their luck on the front. There wasn’t just food, which she knew they desperately needed, or new armors and weapons, but especially medical supplies. Nowadays, those were rarer than gold.

The Scarlet Knight was so engrossed on her thoughts that she didn’t hear Natasha’s horse arriving by her side. So, when her friend spoke, she startled Wanda. “One more hill and we’ll get to Sokovia’s camp before dusk.”

“By the gods, how can you still be silent with a horse?” Wanda put a hand on her heart as though this action could calm her down.

“It’s literally impossible to be silent with a horse, Wanda.” Romanoff shot her a smirk. “You were so absorbed by your thoughts that you missed my approach.” She laughed lightly, trying to lift the mood, sour since their encounter with the Kree emissary.

“Urg. This trip is interminable, and though we’re no longer in Taharr’s territory, it feels like we’re been watched still.” The princess shared what bothered her with her protector, there were so many reasons why she’s restless that she does not know where to start.

“I feel it too. Especially when we went around the Gauntlet Valley by the south, but I believe that I’m still creeped about that power stone we delivered to the Witch Harkness.” The Black Widow spoke, eyes never straying from the road and their vicinity, always looking for a threat.

“I’m still creeped about the whole meeting, Nat. That woman didn’t look like she had her mind on the right place, even less were her intentions.” Wanda felt cold creeping up her bones the second she entered the inn the witch provided as meeting point and every now and then she still felt chills on her cells. “Fortunately, it’s behind us now.” She muttered.

“Unless it comes back to bite us in the ass later.” Natasha smirked a sentence dripping sarcasm, and deep down she prayed that it was just a sarcastic remark indeed and not an omen.

By the time Wanda arrived at their camp, the tents for her and her unit were already up, and everything was prepared for her arrival. The redhead was dreaming with a hot bath and a very deserved rest, but the second her boots touched the campsite, she was taken to the Commander’s tent.

“What happened?” Wanda inquired the second she stepped into the tent. There were important Lords and Knights gathered around a table, but she couldn’t see the man to whom the tent belonged to, only his shield broken on the ground.

“Lord Rogers was captured by the enemy, your highness.” Sir Rumlow fed her with the latest news and the reason why the camp was a pandemonium. Another battle lost to Taharr and now their mightiest warrior, their Commander, was captured. This was a blow to the troops’ morale.

Fuck. The princess muttered to herself. It felt as if fate was against them, only when she brings new supplies, this tragedy happens. “Who’s leading now?” She asked but offered her opinion already. “Lady Romanoff can step in.”

“I’m the next in succession line, your highness.” Sir Barnes started, after clearing his throat. “And I’m afraid King Pietro and Lord Vision would approve, as I’m already familiar with Steve’s tactics.” He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, but not enough for Wanda to think he’s being rude.

“By all means.” She raised her hands in surrender. As for Vision’s wishes she could care less, but Wanda wouldn’t undermine her brother’s commands on the battlefield, besides the Winter Soldier was a formidable soldier and she knew her army would be in good, capable hands. “Now what?” She asked, sitting by the table, sighing tiredly.

“Now we negotiate and until then, we wait.” Natasha replied and every head on the room nodded in agreement.

Wanda always saw herself as a patient woman, but to wait for any ransom request or even a meeting to draw a negotiation was murderously painful. She had spent the days checking the wounded and their treatment as well as the troops meals, she did everything to kept herself busy to try and forget that one of her mentors was in the lion’s den, possibly dead and there was nothing that she could do.

Dread filled her bones as she walked inside the tent built on the once battlefield, so they could stand a conversation and exchange their requirements somewhat sheltered from the cold rain. Wanda’s eyes roamed the room, taking in every single person present, envisaging who could be a threat in case things went south.

Her eyes stopped and never left the smiling person on the other side of the table, neatly separating the place in two.

Right in the center of Lords, Ladies and Knights, there was you in rich red robes with a few lines adorned in golden, and a lion with an imposing roar was embroidered in your chest. You were breathtaking and Wanda took a few seconds more than usual to breathe again, immediately plastering an annoyed look on her face.

“Ah, Princess Wanda, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” You shot her your most dashing smile and Wanda’s annoyed face turned into a scowl. The gal of you to speak with her like that.

“Can’t say the same, I’m afraid.” She replied, crossing her arms and taking a seat on the table in front of her. “Shall we begin?”

“Of course, Your Highness.” There was a glint in your eyes, but it didn’t feel like you were mocking her title, quite the contrary. For some reason, you seemed truly pleased with her presence and that baffled her.

You cleared your throat and started to speak as if this was a simple matter and not a ransom negotiation. “Your Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen, the last few battles bespeak for themselves, I’m afraid this war is dragging itself for far too long.” You look around to see all eyes on you. “I think a truce is in order. Especially now that the winter is here.” You let your lips turn into a smirk and finished. “No pun intended.”  

With a sudden movement, Sir Barnes unsheathed a hidden knife and stuck it heavily on the table in front of you, dangerously close to your hand. “Why don’t you stop with your funny remarks and get this over with?” He spat the word funny as if it were covered in venom.

While Carol, Maria and Sam each let out their own indignant forms of exasperation, you didn’t even flinch. You remained still, looking at the man known as Winter Soldier dead in the eye. “I could have your head in a spike for that little stunt, Sir. Or maybe I should ask for your other hand?” You tsked, feigning disappointment.

To his credit he didn’t waver at the mention of him losing his remaining arm, you only heard stories of how this had happened. It wasn’t a sore spot, you suppose. Taking a tired breath, you resumed your little speech. “I imagine Lord Wilson was very clear when he said no weapons allowed, yet here we are.”

“The note said we’d negotiate Steve’s release, yet here we are.” He mocked you and for a second you thought that picking him by his neck and breaking his nose on the table would be a nice way to show him that he was not allowed to speak with you like that. One glance at Wanda showed you that she had an unreadable expression gracing her face.

With a start, you decided that an act of violence would be unwise if they were trying to negotiate a ceasefire. As much as you wanted to put him in his place to make sure he’d never forget to be respectful to you, you relented.

“Why do you speak as if you were in charge of anything?” You decided to keep violence as your second resort, then. After all, you still need to get a truce before your men freeze with the winter that is about to ravage that region.

He was visibly frustrated by your comment, and you immediately knew this was his weakness. He didn’t want to be demoralized, specially not in front of everyone in the room, probably because his position was too fragile at the moment. “I’m the Commander of Sokovia’s Army, I represent-” You never let him finish.

“No, Sir. The Commander is currently in my custody, you’re barely a nuisance to me. I’m here to negotiate with Princess Wanda.” You flashed him a dangerous smile, however, he wanted to have the last word.

“Lord Vision and King Pietro, they both agreed that I-.” Again, you cut him midsentence, too annoyed to keep listening to his voice, you were losing a precious time now.

“I don’t care about King Pietro or Lord Vision, they’re hundreds of miles away while our feet freeze in this hellhole, so let me be clear, if I wasn’t already. I will only talk to Princess Wanda, no one else.” You fixed him with a glare colder than the rain outside the tent and this time he spoke nothing, grumpily leaning in his chair, defeated.

You turned to look at Wanda, who looked like she was ready to deny every single one of the requests coming out of your lips. “Princess Maximoff, I’d say we stop this madness, once and for all, but I’m pretty sure you still want to revenge a crime that we did not commit.” You began, keeping eye contact with Wanda hoping she’d see that you meant every single word coming out of your lips.

The Maximoff, on the other hand, started to open her mouth to protest but you raised your hand, signalling that you still have things left unsaid, in return, she simply closed her mouth and waited. “I’m sure you know better than anyone that winter by the lakes is cruel and will decimate our soldiers, no matter the color of their clothes.”

You paused your speech just long enough for you to see that the princess had her eyes glued on you. Her beautiful green eyes. “So, I propose a truce. You take your army home and I’ll retreat mine. We can try a peaceful, new negotiation when spring arrives. If we fail, then you can march south once more.”

There were murmurs and grumbles of disapproval by her side, but you already expected resistance. Illogically, a lot of people seemed determined to prolong this war even more. Something churned in your stomach when all Wanda had to do was to raise her hand for her companions to cease their complains. Were you proud of Wanda’s leadership? Why?

Why would her little demonstration of power affect you to this point?

Your thoughts were sliced by the princess’ heavy accent, and you had to bite back a smile that was already painting itself on your lips. “Why would I let you go back to your warmer south if my troops can endure the winter longer than yours?”

“Because not only I’m willing to set Lord Rogers free, but also, I might pretend that I don’t know where your new supplies came from.” You could see Wanda’s face morphing because of your words and their meaning.

You were willing to overlook her Kingdom’s deals with the Kree and this was a big offer. Huge even. Sokovia could be the most hated people, just like Hydrarr was, and the price paid as an outcast was painfully high in Noveria.  

“Why?” Even under the feeble light provided by the candles, you could see genuine curiosity in her eyes.

“My people need to rest, and we need a truce, Princess. Even if it’s a cold peace until we can settle a more permanent agreement later.” You could still see drops of hesitation in her eyes, that’s why you quickly provided her with an insight.

“If we keep doing this, Taharr will no longer possess an army but the same will happen to you. How long do you think Hydrarr would wait to abuse your borders? Or how long do you think Asgard would take to claim as theirs the share of Bifrost Forest that currently belongs to you?”

You could feel the other sokovians staring daggers at you, but your attention never quavered from Wanda. For a moment, you almost smiled thinking that your mother and your brother would’ve loved to witness your tactics. Information and knowledge are a powerful weapon indeed if one knows how to wield it.

Apparently, all those hours locked up in your chambers learning about boring geopolitics paid off. The basics of being a king or a queen is how to keep your borders, hence why one needs an army and the thin lines on Sokovia’s east were a weakness that you would not hesitate in remind her of.

“You have your deal, Lioness.” Her voice brought you back to present again.

There was a muttering around the tent, but your eyes were solely on hers when you spoke, smiling widely. “We should celebrate with a good southern wine, princess.”

“Don’t push your luck, Princess.” You could’ve sworn that you saw the ghost of a smile flashing on her lips while she got up to her feet to leave the tent, but you probably had imagined it.

taglist: @californianwhiterabbit

part 6

[lia-land]

Throne of Glass

2.5/5 stars

*Spoilers for the first book in the Throne of Glass series.

This was boring and slow. I would have stopped reading early on had it been any other author, but I ended up resorting to the audiobook only because I love A Court of Thorns and Roses and have seen SJM’s storytelling potential in that series. If I had read this book before ACOTAR, I would have likely stopped reading and not been interested in any of her other works either. I understand that she was around 16 when she wrote this book, but did an editor not go through it? What—perhaps irrationally—annoyed me was the use of so many exclamation marks. 221 of them, to be exact. Here’s some examples from one chapter 2:

She’d forgotten there was anyone else in the room. She looked at her rags and stained skin, and she couldn’t suppress the twinge of shame. What a miserable state for a girl of former beauty!

But now, standing before Dorian Havilliard as little more than a gutter rat!

“Four months,” Chaol said, “after Sardothien arrived, she attempted to flee.”

She waited for the rest of the story, but he was clearly finished. “That’s not even the best part!”

“There’s a ‘best part’?” the Crown Prince said, face caught between a wince and a smile. (This line specifically is a great summary for how I felt while reading this whole book)

Dorian grinned. “What remarkable eyes you have! And how angry you are!”

…And this is all just from one chapter. The second chapter, specifically. As far as first impressions go, this was not a good one. Maybe I’m just not used to seeing this in other books, but thankfully, SJM does drop the exclamation marks for the rest of this series.

The entirety of the first interaction between Celaena, Chaol, and Dorian in Endovier felt like a very young writer wrote it. I’m talking 12 or 13. The dynamic seemed strange as well because they’re all talking to each other like old friends, but they don’t have any previous relationship. I think Celaena was meant to come across as badass, but I found her insufferable and sort of fake. A lot of her remarks through this book were cringey.

There are only two things that I was interested in: Dorian, and the competition. Both lead to disappointment. The competition was such a cool concept based on how it was described and I was excited to see some sort of Hunger Games style situation where it was a continuous and deadly arena sort of thing. I was so underwhelmed when it ended up being weekly ‘tests’ like archery and climbing. It wasn’t even really that necessary for the overall plot of the series. It had so much potential, and nothing was done with it. 

It’s worth mentioning that I chose to read Assassin’s Blade as the third in the series as SJM recommends, so maybe I just didn’t have any reason to connect with Celaena in Throne of Glass, but having read Assassin’s Blade at the time of writing this, I can’t imagine I’d have cared enough about any of the characters to get through it as a first book.

The series does drastically improve after Crown of Midnight/Assassin’s Blade in both plot and writing style, as many others have said. I don’t think any book series should take 3 and a half books to get good, but I stuck with it only because it’s SJM. This book gives context and adds to the world building (as does book 2), but this could have easily been combined with Crown of Midnight. ACOTAR felt like a prequel until Under the Mountain, so I went in with the mindset of not expecting much from the start of this series either. I did wonder while reading this book if this series would have benefitted from the first person POV that ACOTAR had, but SJM does get better with third person as ToG goes on and it ends up working eventually.

I’m a very slow reader, like it will take me a full day of reading to get through 200 pages, so I would not have stuck to this series had I not read ACOTAR before it. I extended the courtesy to SJM on this occasion, but I likely would not have done so for other authors and would have missed out on the intricate story that unfolds throughout the rest of the series, as many others have.

It’s worth putting up with this book and the next one in order to get 5 good books (5 because CoM and Tower of Dawn are not great). I haven’t found that Celaena gets any less annoying, but she is unlike any other main character I’ve read about so almost as interesting as she is annoying.

[rodolfoparras]

I'm glad to hear that, Sir Alec. That does seem to be the case, perhaps we are all just getting accustomed to the vacation time and putting off writing for a moment. It's not so bad in some cases since it would help with potential burnout for some.

I look forward to many more of your fics and drabbles, Sir Alec. Personally I have yet to try my hand at any heavy or taboo subjects but mayhaps when the time's right (and after some research) I'll divulge into them.

There's no need to set your expectations high, my writings don't hold a candle to anything;; Either way, i do hope you find them entertaining, Sir Alec.

On a different note, I can finally bestow to you my last notes for 'the silent patient' now that I've finished reading it: (if you still wish to read them that is)

[Part 3] So much went though Alicia's mind from the start until the untimely death of Gabriel, according to her entries. Some even highlighted other matters that had yet to come to light. Although there are some parts that have yet to connect and make sense, I think the ending will be an eye opener for sure.

[Part 4] There's something so intriguing in seeing how Christian is desperately grasping at straws to keep things hidden under wraps. Theo seems to have much on his plate with Kathy aside form his 'need' to fix Alicia, still it's saddening.

Alas, more and more unfolds, Alicia truly did suffer much in her early years. it's no wonder she's had such a twisted perception with certain matters, no thanks to her father.

I think Theo's being somewhat careless with how much he shared with Alicia, with how she is practically in charge of how their sessions go it isn't a very good choice to divulge too much.In some instances, i think Theo and Alicia are more alike, as if they were cut from the same cloth. They both have subtle manipulative tendencies from the looks of it.

[Part 5] Can't say it was out of the picture but in retrospect it was likely. Quite the riveting end that was.In conclusion this book was really a page tuner, many things keep you on the edge of your seat until the last few chapters where everything start to fall into place. Now it is quite obvious who the man was.

Thank you kindly for having recommended me such a wonderful read, Sir Alec. I really enjoyed it 💐

-Гора (I do apologize for the lengthy rambling, I kept the notes short so it wouldn't be too much at once.)

Oh man I responded to this ask and then the app crashed 😭 but you’re completely right! This slow period also means writers get to recharge their batteries and that’s a good thing!

Sugar bee I really wish I could give you the biggest kith and hug for always being so appreciative and supportive of my work thank you love!! And you should def try your hands on a taboo subjects if that’s what you wish to do! Doing research is the best thing and of course reading other ppls fics is a very helpful thing! I rmr I once wrote a Drabble on subspace like properly and in depth had to google like how does subspace feel what is it like and even stumbled across some fics with it and to this day subspace is sm fun to write!

Also sugar bee don’t say that! I’m sure your writing is absolutely wonderful and I look forward to reading it!

Also!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed the book!!! Isn’t it insane from the narration to the characters in the story! Like at some point you’re bound to put the pieces together but you’d never guess what you were head into when starting the book! It’s also easily digestible as well meaning the author doesn’t waste too much time writing unnecessary descriptions but thank you sm for giving it a shot and I’m happy you enjoyed it love!

[sanversandfriends]

Art and intro by @thelxiope1. Thanks, pal! (,:

Last but not least!  It is an honor to do the mini-view intro for our esteemed and gifted event organizer, the one, the only: @smarterinabsentia. You know her mostly as a writer of incredibly rich and detailed Sanvers fics filled with cinematic drama, action, passion, history, science, aliens, magic, music, and a vast knowledge of all things Super. She is also a talented artist and a superb beta reader. But today she shares her thoughts on writing and finishing one of her epic and ambitious works. 

Tell us a little about yourself. How did you get started writing fic? Have you written for other fandoms? What are your favorite tropes?  

Unless you count an Alien sequel as a kid, I really didn’t start writing fic until Sanvers. I’m a lifelong DC fan and read Maggie’s first appearance right off the stands, so I was excited to finally get a version of the character who wasn’t a name drop or a blip in an animated series. What I didn't expect was THAT chemistry and THAT coming out arc, and being able to witness the S shield become so indelibly associated with queerness it made my heart sing. So when Maggie walked out of Alex’s apartment for the last time, it was both a devastating loss of rep and the start of a careless and very painful dismantling of the world they’d built in Season 2. I’d been lurking on A03 and, as so many of these fic origin stories go, I thought, “I’ll just write one chapter. What could possibly go wrong?!"

For as much as I hate Alex’s S3 body snatching and the reasons for the breakup, I’m a sucker for the reluctant parent trope. I do like to put Maggie with kids, not as self-sacrificing mother figure, but someone who treats them very much the way she would an equal. This backfires on her sometimes, but counterintuitively makes her a better parent than Alex.

What were your inspirations for this particular story? What was it about this/these ships that grabbed you?

I’ve always been fascinated by the Soviet side of the Space Race and how they achieved so much on fewer resources--not to mention putting a woman in orbit two decades before the U.S. The U.S. had its glamorous flyboys, but the Soviets had women cosmonauts, not to mention soldiers and pilots and snipers, and something like 42 percent of doctors during World War II—a number that rose to 70% in the 1960s.

I’d just finished Svetlana Alexievich’s Unwomanly Face of War, an oral history of the women who'd fought on the Eastern front, and while I didn't expect to encounter any out lesbians in those interviews, the dearth of queerness felt pronounced. I started thinking about who Alex and Maggie might have been in that war, and soon enough, they were fleeing the Germans on a boat on the Moskva river. This is probably nothing new to folks writing historical AUs, but being new to fic at the time, it was eerie just how snugly those characters slotted into the tapestry of Soviet history, from Maggie’s navigating the power shifts in the NKVD/KGB to Alex strugging under the chokehold of Lysenkoism. Every character fit, and every character became this deep-dive learning experience about the era/s.

Has the time spent away from your story changed your outlook or approach to any of the storylines or themes? Have you had any new inspirations or breakthroughs/revelations in the meantime? 

I’ve had some more insights into the characters, especially Jami, who surprised me, and there was a retcon I had to do with a reveal in the dialogue, something I realized was a big moment I should have saved for … the big moment (so I hope no one notices, haha!) And this is probably because I use world building as a means of procrastination, but I’m in this place right now where I’m as excited about the world I’ve set up at the end of the fic as I am about the fic itself.

Any advice for new or aspiring fic writers?

This goes back to something I wish I’d said at the Sanvers research panel a few years back. You might hesitate to write because you think you don't know enough about a particular subject, but that desire is often a signal that you know more than you’re giving yourself credit for. Once you get started, you'll discover you've gotten a lot right out of a mix of prior knowledge and spooky action at a distance. So absolutely do do the research and be respectful of the material, but don’t let a perceived lack of knowledge put you off from getting started. What turns out to be accurate in those first drafts will feel like magic, but what you have to correct in your seconds and thirds will stick and be the best kind of learning experience.

If you were going to promote this fic with a single line, what would it be? 

Lesbians live and so does Laika.

Link to the story if you have one.

[baileyjane3769]

Original Copy is on Quotev, for a better viewing experience and chapter by chapter reading head on over to my Quotev page @BobbyWolf3769 or click the link here

***

When a game is over and all hidden things have been found, what is there left to do? Move on. That's what you would have liked to have done after finishing the disappointing secret ending of a popular otome game. But when the story is over, and all things were said and done, you find yourself trapped in that very game. Faced with the task to keep everyone alive, can you make it to the end without falling in love?

Long read ahead

Chapter Four

Attention Seeker

“She’s probably just looking for attention,” a girl’s voice scoffed. “I bet she doesn’t even have amnesia.”

Makino Himari. You wouldn’t have recognized her by her voice alone, but you knew it was her that said something because she was seated diagonally to you, second row from the front. She had turned slightly in her seat to say that, staring at you with contempt. Nobody around her said anything back to her, but, if the uncomfortable look on their faces had anything to say about it, they were clearly not in agreement.

You shifted to sit taller in your seat before saying “I apologize, Sensei, I must have been lost in thought.” Makino turned once again to snicker at you from her seat but this time the two of you locked eyes, you weren’t backing down. “You see, ever since my fall I have been dozing off more than usual and I have been having a harder time remembering things.” Your shoulders were square and your face was stern, you continued to hold eye contact. It was something that your father liked to call a hard stare, a trait he says you got from your mother. 

Makino looked startled by your surprising act of defiance, it wasn’t something she expected from the girl who appeared to be mindlessly timid this whole time. Her face turned a noticeable shade of red, you could have sworn she was about to burst a vein, before she scoffed and turned back to facing the front of the class. ‘Serves her right.’ You thought.

“Yes, I have heard something about that from your mother. I am very sorry to hear that, I hope you are doing better,” said your teacher. She offered a comforting smile, which you returned, before she went on to discuss other things in class. “Now, class, today I wanted to focus on the topic of …” 

The homeroom period only lasted about five minutes before the real classes started. The Japanese school curriculum was still very confusing to you, but, to summarize it, you have six class periods in a day, each lasting 50 minutes, with lunch taking place after the fourth period. Some of the classes were difficult while others were about the same as how it seemed in your old school, but despite the similarities you were still struggling very badly. It was probably glaringly obvious to your classmates and teachers that you were performing poorer than before, you suspect that you might be assigned a tutor eventually. Makino seemed to be enjoying watching you struggle though.

When lunch time rolled around the teachers left and many students got up and began to move around. Some went to visit friends in other classes, while others went to introduce themselves to Yuki because they didn’t have the chance to do so until then, but the vast majority started to crowd around your desk. You knew that eventually some of your classmates would come to ask questions, you just didn’t anticipate that it would be this many of them. ‘I guess it makes sense for them to be more worried about a fellow classmate who got injured than a new student joining the class.’ 

“Oh my goodness, L/n-san. Are you okay?”

“I’m doing fine but-”

“What did you hit your head on?”

“Uhm, I hit it on a-”

“What’s it like having amnesia?”

“Does it hurt?”

All around you student, after student were asking you several questions about your accident. You would try and attempt to answer a question but then immediately be interrupted by another. No one left any room for you to say anything and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by the situation. Each person’s voice were starting to blur together and your headache, which had already lessened from earlier, was starting to flare up again, causing the cut on your head to throb in pain. 

“Now, now everybody.” A taunting voice cut through the rest of the questions. “You wouldn’t want to overwhelm the poor girl.” 

Of course it was Makino who was making her way towards you. She was alone, none of her other posse of bullies were with her. You figured she would go confront Yuki because that is what she did in the game, but you assume she didn’t because Yuki doesn’t have a mob of students surrounding her like before. Instead it was you who was at the center of almost everybody’s attention. Attention was one thing Makino loved to have but hated sharing.

“Oh dear, you poor, poor girl. You were struggling real bad today, it would be a shame if your amnesia was to badly affect your grades,” she was standing by your desk now. “And you were such a smart girl too.” Her lips held a triumphant smirk, and her bronze eyes had a mean glint to them as she stared down at you from over the bridge of her nose. Despite your stoic gaze, she still remained confident in her taunting solely because she was standing over you while you remained seated.

For a moment you ponder remaining quiet, “I wasn’t aware you were so concerned with my grades, Makino-san.” But in the end you decided that you weren’t going to stand for this mockery. “Earlier,” you began to stand. “It seemed like you doubted my memory loss, but I’m glad to see that we could clear up this misunderstanding.” While you may have been smiling, anyone could tell that you weren’t having none of it. 

Makino’s face flushed in embarrassment, and her mouth twisted into an angry sneer. Before she could say anything back, Yuki had made her way through the crowd and now stood by you. “You shouldn’t pick on other people, Makino-san. L/n-san has gone through a lot and doesn’t need someone like you to put her down.” She, too, had a stern expression, standing her ground.

You felt touched by the fact that Yuki so willingly stood up for you. “Kobayashi-san…” While there might not have been a time in your life where you were bullied, you always felt if you were then your classmates would fall into the bystander effect. You were glad to see that Yuki wasn’t like that.

She turned to you, ignoring Makino’s growing anger, and smiled reassuringly. “Come along then, L/n-san, let’s go eat our lunch somewhere else.” She gently took your hand and began to lead you away. “This room is beginning to reek of desperation.” 

You had to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing out loud. You allowed Yuki to walk you out of the room, but as you passed by Makino she roughly shoulder bumped you. You stopped, your lag also caused Yuki to stop, and turned your head around to tell her off, but she was already trying to make her leave, pushing past a few students. You decided not to pay her any mind, she wasn’t worth your time anyways, but a certain individual wasn’t taking too kindly to Makino’s rude behavior, and this time it wasn’t Yuki.

“Makino-san, this attitude of yours is not very becoming of a student belonging to this school.” To say you were baffled would be an understatement. Fukumoto Akihiko was actually defending you. Granted, it is probably because it would be bad for the school’s reputation if it got out that one of their students was making jabs at a girl who recently had a bad accident and hardly anyone stood up for her. 

His comment caused Makino to give pause, her long, curly hair swishing behind her as she abruptly turned around. “Fukumoto-kun…” Her face flushed in embarrassment, probably because the guy she was crushing on was scolding her. Her crush had also played a role in why she originally bullied Yuki. She loved attention, especially from Akihiko, but when Yuki arrived and began to express her intelligence, his attention was constantly on her and that made Makino mad.

“Honestly, do you have no shame? You’re making obvious snide remarks towards a fellow classmate who has been through a lot. I would advise you to apologize at once.”

She looked like she wanted to scoff but restrained herself from doing so. With a clenched jaw, she mechanically turned to face you. “I am sincerely sorry, L/n-san, I wasn’t aware my comments were seen as disrespectful. It wasn’t my intention to cause you any grievance.” She gave a quick bow, before rushing out of the classroom.

Akihiko watched as she stomped away, shaking his head and sighing in disappointment, before he turned to face you and gave an actual apologetic bow. “You have sincerest apologies, L/n-san, I wasn’t aware of Makino-san’s remarks until another student brought it to my attention.” He stood tall now, straightening his back and offering an apologetic smile. “I hope I am not overstepping when I say this, but I also noticed that you were struggling to comprehend the material today.” 

You felt heat rise to your face as you remembered just how poorly you did during class today. “Yes, the thing is, I am still suffering from mild amnesia and confusion since I hit my head,” you explained. “Just this morning I mistook today for Saturday.”

Akihiko nodded his head, a thoughtful expression adorning his face. “Right, I heard that could happen. Well if you ever need help tutoring in any subject, I will be more than willing to help.” He gave another, slightly shallower, bow before saying, “Well then, I will see you around, L/n-san. Enjoy your lunch then.” As he was leaving he spared Yuki only a small glance, “Kobayashi-san.” His greeting was colder than the one he gave you, but that was to be expected. All day Yuki has been quick to answer questions, getting them all right, and you could tell that it was agitating Akihiko. This was the start of their one sided rivalry.

“Well,” Yuki began to say. “That sure was something. Let’s just go enjoy our lunch then, shall we?” She smiled brightly and held up her neatly wrapped bento, which you just now realized she had been carrying with her. 

“That sounds good, where would you like to sit?”

Her expression shifted to a comedically more focused one as she began to ponder the possibilities, as she did so, her eyes trailed down to your empty hands.

“Wait, where’s your lunch?”

***

So it turns out you ended up forgetting your lunch at home, too preoccupied with having a life changing, world imploding, experience that you didn’t even notice. It wasn’t like you normally carried lunch with you anyways, in America lunch was prepared and served at school. Japan was different though, the high schools here don’t even have cafeterias so most students pack a lunch and eat in their classrooms. Chances are, there is a nicely prepared bento lunch that you were supposed to take with you, waiting at home. 

“Don’t worry L/n-san, you can share with me if you want.” Yuki was so kind to offer that, you were hungry after all, but your little group of two has increased by one new member. That member being Akui Minato. 

‘No way am I going to share lunch with a yandere’s idol of obsession.’ you thought to yourself. ‘That’s like sticking a “kill me” sign on my back.’

“Thank you for the offer, Kobayashi-san, but I wouldn’t feel right sharing your lunch. You have been so kind to me so far and I wouldn't want to impose that on you.”

“Oh, but I insist!”

“No, no really I am fine. I could…uh,�� You paused to think up another solution. “I can go make myself something in the home economics classroom.” A perfect solution. 

Yuki’s face dipped slightly, a small pout settling on her face. “Are you sure? I don’t mind, really I don’t” 

“If L/n-san said she’s fine then you don’t need to worry, Yuki-chan. You would end up making her feel bad about the situation, and you don’t want that, right?” said Akui, putting a reaffirming hand on her shoulder. On the surface level, it looked like a friendly gesture but you know what kind of person he actually is. Nice gestures like that, coming from people like him, are never just for the sake of being nice. 

“No, I don’t.” Yuki said with a pout.

“See? Then why don’t we go eat by the sports field while L/n-san goes to make herself something to eat. She can join us when she’s done, okay?”

Yuki was still pouting as she said, “Okay, I’ll see you later then L/n-san.” She gave you one last, small, smile before walking away with Akui, mood noticeably dampened.

‘Manipulative prick,’ you thought as you watched the two walk away. ‘There isn’t much I can say now, but I will expose you for who you really are.’ Gripping your hands into tight fists, you couldn’t help the feeling of helplessness wash over you. You feel like you couldn’t do anything, you had only just met the duo today, surely Yuki wouldn’t listen to what you have to say over her childhood best friend. After getting to know Yuki, even if it was just one day, you resolved to yourself that you will save her, and every other person, from the hands of Akui. With a new found sense of determination, you walk briskly away, the home econ room being your destination.

***

Please take a look at my survey to decide on a new cover for my book.

A/n: Chapter four is out and we have officially met our first love interest! This has been the most consistent my updates have been and I still have so much inspiration to work off. I know it has been like three chapters and it has only been one day which probably means I am gonna have to work on my story pacing, my story is meant to be a slow-burn one but I don't want it to drag out for too long. This chapter was a little short, especially since nothing really happened, but I felt that if I added in the other part that I had planned then it would be too long and I'd be stumped on how to end it off. Chapter five is the last chapter that will take place on Monday, I plan on making it a bit longer than the last two chapters because it will have another interaction with Akihiko, after school clubs, more Makino, and then she goes home to reflect. Also, what do you'll think of Makino? She is gonna be the meanest bully and the most extreme, she has a reason for this but it doesn't excuse her behavior. She will get her just deserts. Now for Akui, I hate him. I love the way I wrote him but I can't stand people like him. I am living for the day where I write about him being exposed, I am already thinking about the possible ways to go about it. Anyways, I hope reader enjoyed this chapter, as always it was fun to write it and I'll see you in the next update!

[puhpandas]

THANK U FOR 10K HITS ON THE TIME TRAVELERS BEAR!!!!!🎉🎉🐻🐻

[stwritings]

Funny Seeing You Here

Synopsis

Long time in-patient y/n was looking forward to her upcoming discharge date from the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. That is, until she became acquainted with an unlikely familiar face, Eddie Munson.

Author’s Note

This is a fix it fic following Stranger Things season 4, volume 2. In this fic, we’re going to forget the fact that the Duffer Brothers decided to delete Eddie from the series. :-) These events take place after the battle in the upside down. I’m also choosing to change the ending of season 4 by having the issue with the upside down resolved, therefore, Hawkins is not plagued by the massive earthquake that resulted in new portals being opened.

What To Expect

Slow burn, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut in later chapters. ♡

Series Warnings

Mentions of mental health struggles, SMUT (in the later chapters, 18+ to read this story), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence.

Chapter 5

Order had been restored, and y/n couldn’t be happier. Her and Wayne were closer than ever, and she noticed a significant improvement in her overall mood since being granted the privilege to go for walks again. Everyday at varying times, she would meet with Wayne by the front desk, changing up the location of their strolls based on how she felt that day. The third floor was deemed the quiet floor. It was shared between the maternity ward and her unit, so if she felt like a more calming environment where she had an excuse not to talk, that would be her go to.

The second floor was usually more rambunctious, it was essentially just a bunch of rooms for patients in stable conditions usually there for a short stay. This floor saw a lot of traffic, and the overall atmosphere was very chipper as patients’ families and friends were permitted to visit. The second floor was also home to many older patients, who y/n loved conversing with. They were always so charming and friendly. This floor also had the most vending machines, and arguably the best snacks. She was a sucker for salty treats and never turned down the opportunity to get a bag of pretzels along the way.

Despite being overjoyed about her recent schedule change, she couldn’t help but notice just how quickly 30 minutes passed. Before her recreation time was cut short, she would sometimes be out and about for over an hour.

‘Be grateful.’ She kept reminding herself.  

-

One morning, while doing laps around the 3rd floor with Wayne, an unfamiliar sound interrupted their conversation. Y/n was searching for the source of this repetitive jarring sound and realized it was a pager going off. Startled by the sudden shrill beeping, it took a second for Wayne to realize the sound was coming from his pocket.

“Oh, geez. I always forget I have this thing” he chuckled, grabbing it from his pocket and attempting to work the device. “They really don’t make navigation easy on it either… Um…” He pushed a few bottoms before he finally got it to stop beeping and paused to read the message.

He took a sharp breath in, before turning to y/n. “You’re gonna kill me...”

She was caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor and reluctantly followed him as he started inching away from her, heading towards the elevator. She squinted her eyes at him as she waited for him to finish his sentence.

“We’re gonna have to cut today’s walk short.” Y/n could tell he was bracing himself for her reaction as he stared at her, scrunching his face in anticipation.

“What?? Why?? We’ve barely been out for 10 minutes!” She protested.

“I knoooow, I’m so sorry, there’s some kind of filing emergency going on, I-” He threw his arms up and rolled his eyes, aware of how dramatic this sounded.

“You’re kidding… Wayne that’s-“

“Y/n... Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I’m already mentally preparing for the mayhem waiting for me. The ladies working the ER reception scare me and I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t get there pronto.”

Y/n chuckled, the thought of a 6’3, burly man being afraid of a small group of short middle-aged women was ironic. She knew exactly what he meant though, those ladies were very intense in the face of adversities. Just as she was about to admit defeat and step into the elevator, she stopped in her tracks. An idea popped into her head.

“What if I kept walking and meet you back at the unit?” She suggested in a nonchalant tone.

“What? No, absolutely not, hop in.” he said, gesturing to the elevator.

“Why not? We’ve established the floors I’m allowed to be on and there’s been no reason to believe that there’s any prevalent danger. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I lose my job???” he exclaimed, giving her the side eye. “Losing a patient in the hospital isn’t exactly something I want to be known for around here. It’s not happening, now come on.” He walked onto the elevator and held the doors open by blocking the censors with one hand.

“Or…” y/n continued “I get my 30 minutes of allowed time to walk around and am back before anyone even notices!”

“Would you just get onto the elevator!!” Wayne’s anxiety was getting the best of him, she could tell. She wasn’t proud of this next move, but she knew how to get him to agree.

“Please Wayne… When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me.” Out came the puppy dog eyes and pout.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He warned, knowing damn well she knew he had a soft spot for her guilt tripping tactics.

“20 more minutes. Just this once. I’ll be back before you know it. Please…” A last-ditch attempt that seemed to have worked. A few seconds later, Wayne sighed and removed his arm from the doorway of the elevator.

“If you’re not back in the time it takes to watch a Golden Girls episode…” He trailed off, interrupted by the doors closing in front of him.

Just before they shut, y/n yelped out “I won’t let you down!!”.

The second she lost sight of him, y/n didn’t waste a second shuffling away from the elevator. Wayne was putting a lot of trust in her, and she had no intentions of letting him down. Feeling a rush of excitement, she thought ‘Why not switch it up.’

She had been taking her walks mainly on the 3rd floor over the last few days, and with this sudden burst of energy, she felt prepared to handle the liveliness the 2nd floor had to offer. She high-tailed it down the stairwell, finally reaching the door with a big “2” painted on the wall and swung it open. She was met with slight disappointment when she arrived.

Crickets. You could hear a pin drop. It was a bit of an eerie feeling, seeing a normally active room so quiet, void of life. Why wasn’t anyone around? Of all her time spent at this hospital, she had never seen this floor be so quiet. She wandered around and happened upon a calendar. Monday.

Had she never been down here on a Monday morning? The lack of visitors made sense, most people were still at work or school at this time. ‘This is fine’ she started convincing herself. ‘When life gives you lemons…’

Free of judgmental stares or the possibility of bothering people, y/n took the current state of the floor as a sign to be her most authentic self. She let her body lead the way, and started swaying as she walked, alternating between skipping and running.

The only thing that could make this experience better was music. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to sway the staff into letting her bring her Walkman with her during her stay, so she was left with the memory of her music library to get her by. Her mind jukebox, as she often called it. Y/n was very passionate about music and could often be heard humming quietly to herself.

Today was no different, the lack of normal chatter from the visitors made for the perfect acoustics in the hallways, her voice reverberating against the empty hallway walls. As she walked past a room near the back of the unit, she heard a faint hoarse voice. “Black Sabbath?”

She quickly scanned the room trying to assess who this voice belonged to, only for her eyes to land on none other than Eddie Munson. He was laying in a bed looking a little beat up, Jell-o cup in hand with a shy look on his face.

It had been weeks since she had heard any news updates about him, and despite knowing he was being treated here, she was still surprised to find him no less than 5 feet away.

“Air Dance” she responded with a soft smile.

“That’s arguably their worst song” he replied with a little grin on his face. Her eyes grew wider, and she let out a scoff. Normally, y/n hated snobby self proclaimed music enthusiasts, but she could tell by the smile radiating from his face that this wasn’t the kind of comment intended to be rude or start an argument. It was rather an invitation to some playful banter.

“It happens to be my favorite song” she stated matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow as she took a few steps forward, now standing in the door frame of his room.

“I guess we can’t all have good taste” he said in a playfully challenging tone.

Before y/n could come up with a clever response, she was shooed away by one of the nurses entering the room, presumably to tend to Eddie. He was still hooked up to a few machines and had pretty noticeable injuries.

She slowly backed out of the room and into the hallway, her face flushed with color over this short but sweet interaction she had just had.

As she turned to start walking back to her unit, only a few minutes left to spare before she’d be late, she could have sworn seeing through her peripheral vision, that Eddie never took his eyes off her.

_

Chapter 6

Let me know what you think & if you’re interested in being on my tag list ♡

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[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?"  All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

----------------------------------------

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen​

@rogermeddow

(message me if you want to be added to any of my oneshot/queen/beatles/chapter taglists)

[malarki]

Harry Potter FanFiction I greatly enjoy (it’s just tomarry and sevitus)

Fair warning, I’m not good at describing stuff, and most of these are not complete (yet) but if you have similar tastes as I do then you’ll definitely like these stories.

Meddling of a Mischief Maker - by Athy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380535/chapters/12427268

I enjoy this fic because it shows a more human Voldemort with him still being an asshole as per usual. They do a good job of having Voldemort believably change into a not crazy murderous bastard haha. It also has Sirius interacting with Voldemort and for some reason I find those scenes hilarious in any fic I read.

“Harry's being a horcrux is a bit reworked here in this AU Story set during the summer after 5th year. A Mischief Maker intervenes in the Ministry during Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, changing the course history. MorallyGrey!Dumbledore, Sirius, Restored Souls, HP/TR”

Draw Me After You (Let Us Run) - by ToAStranger @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

This story is a delight, it’s tone is very good and they do a great job of writing in the characters ‘voices’ for their pov’s. I especially like the posh way Voldemort talks and acts. This story is also hilarious on top of just being a very good slowburn, AND it has Sirius, which as you might have guessed, I love dearly. They also don’t bash any of the characters, and instead make them well rounded but flawed individuals, which I really appreciate.

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years.

Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing.

“It seems I have finally caught you.”

Consuming Shadows - by Child_OTKW @childotkw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040089/chapters/16011331

I’ve read two of childOTKW’s fics and both of them are fantastically written and attention grabbing stories. This one was the first one I read, and it has a very interesting take on lily Potter (one which I really enjoy) and the plot can leave you on the edge of your seat at times. The characterization is great, and the process of Harry and Tom getting to know each other is done very well.

“His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes.

It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure.

But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased.

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.”

A story that is kind of similar but not really: The Train to Nowhere

You Belong To Me (I Belong To You) - by child_OTKW

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408

This is a story inspired by the manwha ‘At The End Of The Road’ by Haribo. A comic I read before reading this, which is very good I recommend it. They do not take the exact plot from the comic though, obviously changing significant details for it to work properly as a Tomarry Fic, but one main thing stays the same, which is that this is a body swap. Honestly I really enjoy childOTKW’s works, and this is no exception. The characterization is wonderful as always, and Harry is Fantastic. Plus I’ve always been a fan of time travel fics. (Fair warning this is another slow burn and Harry centric)

“What I find absolutely fascinating,” Riddle said, stalking closer, “is you.” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room. “Do you know why?”

“No. And I’ll be honest here, Riddle, I don’t particularly care.”

The taller boy grinned at him, small yet infinitely pleased. “That. Right there.” One hand rose and brushed some of Harry’s fringe from his face. “Nathan Ciro was a spineless little boy too afraid of his own shadow to dare even glance in my direction. But you…”

He leaned closer, “You look at me like you want to stab me.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. Seeking answers to his strange predicament, Harry returns to Hogwarts, and causes quite the stir through staff and students - especially when they come to realise he is not the same boy as before.

He tries to avoid suspicion, but as his quest for the truth draws more and more attention to him, Harry begins to think that he might not like what he will discover.”

Some Bonus AU tomarry

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars - by Haplessshippo @haplesshippo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015060/chapters/27191238

This is a star trek au and it’s honestly my favorite tomarry au fic. Granted, I am a huge sci-fi fan. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, or at least it surprised me, due to the way we usually expect tomarry plots to go.

“Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.”

The Matchmaker - by TanninTele

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507676/chapters/38664089

I am ALSO a huge true crime fan, and this story has a criminal that kinda reminds me of one that might appear in Hannibal (but with less murder). I enjoy the characterization, though tom is pretty tame in this compared to more cannon fics, considering he’s not the criminal and instead an investigator. Harry is also different from how people usually portray him, but I still like it.

“'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.”

And on to the Sevitus Stories

Far Beyond A Promise Kept - by oliversnape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/547431/chapters/974693

A classic, Harry stays with snape and unintentionally proves all his assumptions wrong and makes snape care about him. Both the stories have this aspect, but this one has snape a bit nicer from the get go. Probably because it takes place during the third book, so they’ve only known each other two years. It’s quite wholesome though, and I rather enjoy the progression of their relationship.

“Snape never wanted anyone to know of his promise to Dumbledore, but has realised that he can protect Potter much better by taking a less passive role in the boy's training. Actually liking Harry Potter has never been part of his plan. mentor/guardian.”

Crime And Punishment - by melolcatsi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102232/chapters/58018174

Snape and Harry have way more of a rocky start in this one, and Snape having to pick Harry up from the police station Really Doesn’t Help Snape’s opinion of him. This story very realistically shows the progression of their relationship, going from enemies to family, and near the ‘end’ (it’s not finished) it becomes very wholesome with Snape trying to help Harry with his mental and physical health after years of abuse/ neglect.

“Harry is accused of burglary. The Dursleys leave him to rot. Dumbledore sends Snape to remedy the situation. Harry finds himself in the care of an irate Snape. Not slash, gen-fic w/ focus on Sevitus relationship. Angst galore. Warnings: coarse and suggestive language, mentions of abuse/neglect. Un-betaed and un-Britpicked.”

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 3

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: hEy guys, I’m SO sorry for 1. taking so long for this shitty chapter and 2. I will no longer be tagging new people simply because I am so lost and I feel like I will miss half of the people who asked so I don’t want to make anyone feel forgotten or upset

THIS ISN’t PROOF READ I SUCK I KNOW I hate thIS STORY

☼  previous / next  ☼

The next morning you woke up before Jeno, you tried to silently sneak out to give him the chance of pretending nothing happened, in case he decided it had all been a drunken mistake and it should be forgotten. Your plan was proven kind of difficult with the whole having to untangle yourself from the man and unzipping the tent open situation, bright sun rays suddenly filling the space. You winced at the light and tried to quickly close the door back up, startled by a groaning sleepy Jeno who confusedly sat up and rubbed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to get out,” You apologized.

“Oh, ok. What time is it?”

“I have no idea, my phone died.”

The man searched for his phone among the covers and sighed when he realized he had run out of battery too. You awkwardly stared at each other, not really knowing if one of you should bring up what had happened or just casually move on.

“I don’t think the others are up yet,” You tried to start a conversation before the tension could swallow you up.

“Probably not. I’m still sleepy though, could go for a morning nap,” He smiled before lying back down, you were thankful he was trying to end the awkwardness too.

“I love morning naps.”

“Come join?” He asked with hopeful eyes and you nodded before practically throwing yourself back into his side, careful to not touch him in case he wasn’t interested and you didn’t want to impose yourself. You turned your back to Jeno and closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep in seconds, but was surprised when you felt the man’s arm silently wrapping around your waist and his chest pressing against your back before lazily whispering a “Good night” against the back of your neck. You smiled contently to yourself, hearing Jeno’s breathing get heavier and slower as sleep took over him, following his steps soon after.

The second time you woke up, was to a screaming Jisung. You and Jeno both jumped awake, startled, before running outside thinking there was a snake or something dangerous like that. The two of you were soon staring at the young boy judgingly, looking between him and the cockroach on the floor.

“Jisung, it’s dead,” Jeno sighed, trying to not get annoyed at the young man.

“It’s still moving!” He whined, still refusing to go down from the camping chair.

“They do that,” You sighed too, giving up on trying to make sense of the situation and approaching the boy with your hand out to help him down. “C’mon, help me to put the things back in the truck so we can go back to the Inn.”

Jisung reluctantly did as you said and Jeno started to wake up the others, everyone folded their tents and picked up the trash in silence, too tired and hungover to play around. If looked from afar, one might have you mistaken for extras on a zombie movie.

As you arrived back at the Inn, everyone crawled into their rooms without muttering a single word. You took advantage of the moment to take a shower since you were still in your bikins and Jaemin’s sweater, feeling completely disgusting after a day (mostly a night) of sweating. You were deep in your nirvana state of mind, enjoying the hot water relaxing your muscles and finally cleaning your hair of all that lake water, when you heard a bang at the door. You jumped in shock and looked over at the door instantly.

“Whoever is there, please let me in, I really need to pee!” Jisung screamed, fist still knocking on the door in urgency.

“You can use the bathroom downstairs!”

“Cockroaches,” He squealed before letting out a loud whine. “Please, I’m going to explode.”

You lightly groaned at the inconvenience before quickly shutting the water down and wrapping your towel around you, opening the door and signaling to Jisung that the bathroom was all his. He banged the door shut and you leaned against the hallway wall, waiting to return to your very good shower that you were missing very much after experiencing the chilly wind outside.

“Is there anything wrong?” Jaemin asked after opening his door, seeming like he had just woken up from a deep slumber.

You tried to act casually, like you weren’t standing around in just a towel, “Everything’s awesome.”

Jaemin had his mouth open to start saying something else when another door opened, an annoyed Haechan appearing behind it, “Who’s yelling and why?”

“Jisung needed to use the bathroom,” You explained, feeling way to exposed and embarrassed to elaborate.

“Can’t a guy ever sleep in peace?” Renjun’s suddenly appeared from his room, whining at his friends and rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

“Ok, can everyone please stay inside their rooms for the next 30 seconds?!” You requested loudly in frustration, kind of laughing internally at the way Jeno was midway through opening his door before muttering a sorry and closing it back in super speed.

“Yeah, sorry,” Renjun apologized before going back to his nap, but you didn’t miss the way he gave you a once-over first.

“Enjoy your shower,” Jaemin smiled at you before copying his friend.

Haechan simply stood there staring at you and you looked at him in expectation and a ting of annoyance. The man smirked at you before winking, “Looking good.”

“Yeah, and very much naked, so if you could like, just go inside for a minute,” You politely requested.

“But that’s very much what I’d like to see,” He playfully flirted with a low voice so no one would hear, slowly approaching you. He gave you no time to react as he looked down at your chest, right hand suddenly pinching your hardened nipple and you gasped in surprise, “Cold?”

He looked up at you with a teasing look and you nodded with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he was playing. Haechan whispered a “cute” against your ear before returning to his room with a smirk, right on time for Jisung to open the door, “Thank you so much! I’m sorry for interrupting your shower. I think I had the content of two whole wine bottles in my bladder.”

“It’s ok,” You assured him absently, still bothered by Haechan’s antics. You honestly had thought he was all bark and no bite, you two have been playfully flirting since day one and you had guessed it was just part of your friendship dynamic considering you both always laughed about it.

Well, you could do nothing about it except from seeing where life would take you two.

            _____________________________________________

After showering, you prepared some yogurt bowls with fruits and granola for breakfast, figuring you could all have a late lunch. Jaemin came downstairs after an hour and helped you out, stopping you from murdering another poor orange.

“Do you think everyone will be up for an activity today?” You asked, hoping they would opt for a more relaxing afternoon, as you were pretty much tired and hungover yourself.

Jaemin softly laughed, “If the activity is dying on the floor of the living room, yes.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Slept late?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you almost dropped the knife you were holding.

Does he know?

“I went to bed right after you did, red wine is just not my friend,” You awkwardly laughed, trying to calm your mind down. He couldn’t have heard anything over the loud singing yesterday and Jeno probably didn’t tell him.

Jaemin said nothing to that and you both enjoyed a semi-comfortable silence until he offered, “Want me to teach you how to peel an orange?”

“Theoretically speaking I know how to do it, I just can’t make my hands actually work,” You laughed, but moved closer so he could show you anyways.

“I’ll teach you an easier way then, it’s not ideal but it’s better than losing half of the orange,” He teased and you glared at him. “You just have to cut it in half like this, and then like this. Actually you can cut it as many times as you want to. When they are in slices like this you can just use your fingers to pull the peel away.”

“Oh, I think I can do that,” You exclaimed in excitement, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Hey, do you by any chance have more of that pineapple cake?”

“Chenle finished it but I can go to town to buy some more when we’re done with this. You can come along if you want to, they have a lot of options.”

“That sounds great.”

The two of you managed to quickly finish decorating the bowl, even adding some pretty flowers Jaemin went out to pick on top of it. After placing it all in the fridge so it wouldn’t become a mess until the others woke up, you scribbled down a note letting them know you had gone to the city and would be right back before heading outside to the car.

“Can I drive?” Jaemin asked jokingly, knowing your car was very dear to you.

“If you crash it, you’re giving me that watch,” You rolled your eyes, throwing the keys at him, who looked surprised at your compliance but laughed excitedly when catching the keys. His watch was probably worth more than your car anyways.

You hesitantly climbed into the passenger seat and tried to not say anything as Jaemin left the property in reverse, you hated riding shotgun.

He did look kind of hot, though.  

“I know how to drive, you know? You don’t have to grip the handles so tight,” The man laughed once you were already on the road.

“I’m just not used to not being the one behind the wheel,” You apologized, forcing yourself to relax your hands on your lap so you wouldn’t offend a man’s driving’s skills. “Turn right on that street. Did you enjoy skiing?”

“I did, yesterday was just a fun day as a whole. You also looked really pretty in my sweater,” He looked at you softly and It took a lot of control for you to not melt into the seat.

“I’m giving it back as soon as I wash it, by the way. Thank you again for not letting me freeze.”

“Don’t worry. You can keep it, it looked better on you.”

“Jaemin, I know you’re trying to be a gentleman and all but that’s a Balenciaga swea-“

“And I’d like for you to have it.”

“I’m really living everyone’s fanfic’s dreams, aren’t I?” You giggled softly.

“Do you read those?” Jaemin chuckled.

“Of course. I live in the middle of nowhere, anything to pass the time. Follow that Sunny Mountain sign.”

“Ok. You should teach me how to find those, I’m curious as to what our fans write about us.”

“Uh, you really shouldn’t.”

“Dirty stuff?”

“Lots of it, probably.”

Jaemin laughed at that but said nothing more, deciding to pay attention to the road for once. You were distracted trying to find a cool Spotify playlist on your phone when you felt the man’s hand on your thigh, he didn’t move it and he didn’t look at you, just staring straight ahead with a casual demeanor like it was something you did all the time. You said nothing about it, just enjoyed the touch and followed his lead.

As you arrived at the city, you directed Jaemin around until you were parking right in front of the little traditional bakery.

“Good morning, Mary. Looking beautiful as always,” You complimented the old lady behind the counter, who you have known since you were a little girl. “Please tell me you made some pineapple cake.”

“My dear, if I didn’t I would run out of business,” Mary laughed. “I’ll wrap one up for you.”

“Thank you. Jaem, do you want to try something else?” You asked, pointing to the display in front of you full of a variety of cakes, which this region was famous for.  “This is a banana one, it’s so good. The wine one is also tasty.”

Jaemin shivered at the word wine and you laughed because honestly, same.

“The banana one sounds good,” He agreed.

“Mary, I’ll take one half banana, half peach.”

The boy looked at you surprised that you remembered his favorite fruit and you just smiled at him, showing you were also paying attention.

“On it. Is that your boyfriend? I’ve been praying for you to find someone to keep you company in that big old house for ages,” The lady started, taking the cakes from the displays to cut them for you.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You joked, winking at Jaemin who gave you a teasing smile back. “But unfortunately he’s just a guest at the Inn.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, but it’s a pleasure to meet you anyways. Maybe it’s better this way, my Gus would be jealous.”

You laughed in joy at the mention of your childhood summer friend, “How is he? I miss him!”

“He’s doing amazing,” She answered with a smile when talking about her grandson, placing the cakes’ halves on a plastic plate. “He just graduated last year, rented me a fancy dress and all.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that! I need to congratulate him. When he’s back in town, can you ask him to drop by the Inn really quickly? We’re having some internet problems as always.”

“Of course, dear. He will love that, I bet he’ll come around by the weekend. Here’s your cakes! I’ll put it on your account.”

Jaemin helped you getting one of the boxes from the balcony and you got the other.

“Thank you, Mary! Have a nice day!”

“You kids too!”

You carefully placed the cakes on the back seats, wrapping the seatbelts around it so they wouldn’t move during the transportation as Jaemin looked around, appreciating the view.

“The city is pretty cute, right?”

“It is, actually. Is that an ice cream place?”

“Kind of. But they do have an ice cream buffet.”

“That sounds awesome, can we go there?”

“I guess the cakes won’t go bad in the car if we’re quick.”

“They won’t, it’s kind of cold today.”

“Right? I thought I was sick or something,” You complained, pouting at the temperature change.

“Here, let’s go freeze,” Jaemin laughed, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and leading you across the street.

                              ______________________________

You figured you liked Jaemin. As in, you really liked Jaemin. He was just so easy to talk to and a genuine funny caring guy – You didn’t see much of those anymore.

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the town turned into a 2 hour long tour around all the little spots the city had to offer, playfully taking photos of each other like you were in a romantic movie or something.  When you finally went back to the Inn, your heart was swollen and your cheeks were hurting from smiling too much.

“Be right back my ass,” Haechan welcomed you with a grunt.

“We took long but we brought cake,” You pinched his pouting face.

“Ok, I forgive you.”

“Are you guys hungry?”

“For cake? Yes,” Jisung excitedly exclaimed.

“I meant for real food, it’s past lunch time.”

“We actually just ate breakfast, Jeno is still sleeping,” Renjun informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll cook today,” Jaemin messed with your hair and you glared at him.

“No, you won’t. You’re a guest here.”

“And I’m a great cook, so get your ass back in bed and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“That’s rude of you, Na Jaemin,” You joked.

“Learning from the best.”

You glared at him but decided to accept your fate. After your nap with Jeno and your shower, you were not sleepy anymore, so you decided to invite the rest to sunbathe in the lower deck by the lake. Haechan and Mark were happy to join and the three of you sprawled around under the blue sky after changing into your bathing suits. You were struggling to get sunscreen on your back and Mark silently asked for the tube in your hand, doing It for you as Haechan blabbed about League of Legends – It was really hard to hide the chills across your skin when you were wearing basically no clothes.

After Mark got over being awkward because of your exposed skin, he was actually one of the most fun people to be around that you had ever hung out with. He literally laughed and got excited over everything you and Haechan said and it made you feel special, you definitely understood his charms now. Also, with him being from Canada and all, you two had a lot more in common than you had imagined, which was revitalizing.

Soon enough, both boys started bickering over something and you just closed your eyes and tried to drift off, this was supposed to be relaxing time. But then again, it was hard to put relaxing and Haechan in the same sentence.

After what seemed like ten minutes of the men next to you arguing, you suddenly heard your name and opened your eyes begrudgingly with a “Huh?”

“Help us. Who’s right?” Haechan asked.

“I ain’t even listening, I’m sorry.”

“Haechan over here seems to think he has a bigger chance with you than I do,” Mark smirked and you chocked around air. What kind of demon possessed Mark Lee’s body?

“Of course I do, don’t I?” It was Haechan’s turn to smirk at you and you just stared between them totally lost. They were arguing about song lyrics a few minutes ago, what the fuck happened? “So? Who’s right?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Haechan lifted an eyebrow at you in a challenging way.

“Let her speak,” Mark cut him off and you felt goosebumps up your body once again at his strict tone. Damn, that was definitely not expected from Mark Lee.

“This is very unprofessional,” You muttered in shock, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, c’mon. You think I didn’t hear your little show with Jeno the other night?” Mark laughed darkly and you shrank into yourself.

“What? What happened with Jeno?” Haechan asked confused.

“Nothing,” You quickly inform, trying to end that conversation.

Mark tsks and softly put your hair behind your ear, looking at you with endearing eyes, “Our pretty Y/N had some fun times with Jeno in their tent, didn’t she? Tell Haechan.”

You gulped and turned to Haechan, only nodding in shame because you were not about to admit you sucked his friend out loud. The boy’s eyes only widened and you could see Mark’s smirk from the corner of your eyes, what a wicked man.

“Guess none of us have a chance, then. Since Jeno got to you first,” Mark played and you briskly shook your head, feeling how you were already pulsing between your legs. The man raised an eyebrow at your reaction, like it wasn’t what he had planned, “Oh?”

“Please,” Was all that you managed to let out. Too embarrassed to elaborate.

“Kiss her,” He ordered and you noticed he was talking to Haechan, who smiled widely before bending down to capture your lips.

His kiss was playful like his personality, his hand found its place behind your neck and he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth, not allowing you to deepen the kiss like you wanted to. When you whined in frustration, you felt his smirk against your lips before he harshly grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, his tongue finally against yours.

Well, this was not how you expected your day to turn out.

You were so focused on how good it felt to melt into Haechan, that you jumped in shock when you felt Mark’s fingers playing with your bikini bottoms.

“Look how wet she it, Haechan,” He commented like he was hypnotized by the view and you two broke the kiss so he could look at where his friend was staring. Mark’s middle finger started to lightly circle your clit over the fabric and you moaned, hiding your face in shame. You were probably about to have sex. No, not sex. A threesome. With your guests!!!

“Y/N.”

“What?” You groaned.

“Y/N!”

You uncovered your eyes annoyed only to find Haechan and Mark staring at you weirdly, sitting up on their own beach towels like well-behaved boys.

“Did I fall asleep?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we thought you were having a nightmare so we decided to wake you up,” Mark explained softly and you gulped.

“Thank you, it was horrible,” You lied, heart beating fast and chest heaving.

Mark and Haechan went back to arguing while you tried to recompose yourself, but as soon as Haechan shot you a knowing smirk, you quickly got up and left, figuring you could play cards with Renjun or something.

                                            ____________________________________

Jaemin didn’t lie when he said he was a good cook, and not only that, but he was also an organized worker, washing and cleaning everything right after using it. What a dreamy man. You were still too bothered over having a weird wet dream with your guests, who were right beside you, to think much about how amazing Jaemin was.

After everyone had lunch (and you decided to sit far far away from your sunbathing partners, safely cuddled between Chenle and Jisung at the end of the table), you washed all the dishes left while Jeno dried them, thankful that you two managed to not let things go south after your little encounter.

The Inn still had no internet so there was nothing much you could do with everyone being tired, so like Jaemin predicted, you all sprawled around the living room’s floor and played some games. After a few hours, you started getting tired of playing and turned the Tv on, trying to find the least terrible channel the Tv’s antenna could pick up, settling on a game show that got everyone pretty excited. Somehow you ended lying on Jaemin’s chest and you noticed Jeno giving you a look but couldn’t quite catch what he meant with it. He seemed normal with you after it, so you decided to let it go, realizing you were only overthinking things.

For dinner, you all had some leftovers from lunch and lots of cake. You had spent so many hours talking that you felt like you have known these boys since forever, or at least you wanted to. There was just not a moment around them when you weren’t laughing or smiling, and besides the obvious sexual tension moments, it felt really comfortable to be around them. Of course they could be annoying and inconvenient at times, they were men after all, but it was not hard to get over that.

Surprisingly enough, even after sleeping until way past noon, the boys were still tired and went to bed early with the promise of fun adventures for the next day. You and Renjun stayed back in the balcony talking about life and art, looking at the stars and drinking a glass of wine. It was nice sharing your deep thoughts with someone who matched your intensity and excitement, Renjun was indeed an artist and you loved experiencing the universe with him for a night.

When it was around 1 in the morning, the two of you said goodnight with a soft smile, knowing you two now shared a bond.

Entering your room and turning the lights on, you were surprised to find Jeno playing with his phone on your bed.

“Hey,” You offered confused.

He gave you an eye smile before dropping his phone on the bed, “Hey.”

“So, you’re in my room…”

“Just wanted to ask if I could sleep with you, it’s nice.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just change,” You agreed and laughed at the way Jeno covered his eyes when you grabbed on the hem of your shirt and pulled it off, “I think we’re way past that, Jeno Lee.”

“Sorry, it’s automatic,” He explained as he dropped his hands back on the bed, watching you silently as you changed into your pajamas. You sleepily climbed into bed next to the man, both of you lying on your sides and staring at each other. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” You softly breathed out. This seemed all too familiar.

He delicately pressed his lips against yours, hand grabbing your cheek so his thumb could soothingly caress your cheek. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the soft touches, reciprocating the kiss with the same fluttering intensity. Jeno simply did that for a few minutes before breaking away from you and smiling, “Sorry, I just really wanted to kiss you.”

“It’s ok,” You giggled, content and in peace.

taglist:  @eggbutnotyolk @lauraneuuh @geeisaclown @jenotation @riemm @junguwuuu @prettychaeng @satanssugaraddiction @luvlyjaemin @sweetjaemss @oofimdumb @junglekooks @unknown5tar @rosedchae @deantrblismyhusband @yukheisworld @chippijunxiao @kkakkdugi @luvenshiti @sleep-is-all-i-seek @aka-minhyuk-kun @elithereal @jenniferecand @tacojisung @tiramisubox @hobicore-smut @renjunniex @markresonates @hufflepanda221b @ncttboo @neejaatjeh @heyyyun @yutaalove @iwishihadabettername

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

��That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[shurisneakers]

shut in [14]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, violence, guns, death, ptsd, swearing, abuse

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: last chapter you guys :’’’’) im too emo about a fanfic i s2g. there’s an epilogue but this is the official last chapter. 

i really appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

You had only heard of the warehouse before, never actually seen it.

Its reputation preceded it. It was only mentioned in passing as a place for the worst of the worst.

It was murky and smelled like rust, concrete and rotting corpses. You had no doubt a few of them would be littering the place. A few tube lights shone over you graciously like a spotlight, barely illuminating the area. 

The room you were in was utterly silent. The only exception were noises outside the door; loud shouts and clanging of metal. You assumed it to be people in the other rooms. Your assessment on how tight the ropes were coiled around you earned a few grunts and odd squeaks, but nothing major. 

You were bound to a chair, of course, with knots you had used before on others. It felt like a convoluted form of irony. It was firmly nailed to the ground to prevent you from using it against captors. You were gagged; pretty well, by the look of it. 

A noise from beside you threw you off track. A quick look to your left and you found Sam in a similar predicament. He shook his head slightly, implying that it was useless to find an opening. At least he was alive and breathing. 

“Are you done?” A voice came from behind you, echoing within the four walls. “I really want to get going and you’re taking too long.”

You knew who it was. It was impossible for you to mistake it at this point.

“Don’t mind the noise outside. We’re just torturing a bunch of people to death.”

You roll your eyes out of sheer instinct. The footsteps slowly moved towards the front of the room, heavy and deliberate. The expensive material of his suit shone under the light as he edged in front of you. Only he’d wear Armani to a murder.

The dramatic fuck clearly rehearsed it.

“Hey Buttercup,” Ransone smiled, distinctly proud of himself. Your bite on the bundle of cloth haphazardly shoved in your mouth tightened. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now. Wilson’s no good company.”

You sneak a glance at Sam’s side profile and he looks relatively untouched. There were a few cuts on his face that you could make out under the harsh light but that was it. 

“You can’t get out of those, if you're wondering.” He gestured to your current set up. “I told you, Sam. I save my warehouse for special guests. All your fun tools are gone. Took ‘em when you were brought in.”

As your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you faintly make out the presence of two men in the corners of the room, stiff as cardboard. His security. 

“Oh! Except this.” He brandished the paper airplane you had brought with you in the utility belt. He’d use anything to potentially get a rise out of you.

“Gettin’ sentimental now, are we?” He tested the tip of the plane with his finger. 

You prayed he wouldn’t destroy it. It had more value than he was willing to bet on. 

“You must be asking yourselves why you ended up here,” Ransone mused, looking at the plane from all angles. “No need to worry, I’ll tell you.”

You didn't expect anything less from him. Everything about this felt cinematic; the inconvenient lighting, the men standing in the corner. This man oozed drama over efficiency. 

“When I was just starting out, people warned me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere, that we’d always stay in the same position because that’s how it’s been for all these years.” He tested the plane, holding onto the body sturdily.  

“There were too many big names already. We were one of them, of course. My father did a good job of giving us a solid foundation.” He pulled his wrist back like he was going to launch it, only to never actually do it. He carried it through the air, simulating its flight pattern.

“You remember my father, don’t you? The guy who cut off someone’s finger because they didn’t finish the job.” Ransone really only had one story to tell about his father and he worked it to death. Other than a few handful of times, his father never bothered about his presence much from what you heard. He favoured the ones who were brutal and Ransone- well, he was a glorified theatre kid. 

“Of course you do. He was an incredible man.” He laughed crisply. “But he had no real ambition. No drive. I told him we could have been at the top, the ones parents warn their kids about. He didn’t listen to me. He never really paid attention.”

His tone got wistful in the end, eyes distant like he was living the scene out in his head. 

“So obviously when he died, I had the chance to really make a difference. Really set us apart. Ten Rings and Hydra had their own niche; they had some ties with the military and the government and whatnot. Crazy motherfuckers, all of them.” He shook his dead in distaste. “But Serpentine- that was closer to home. Same market as us.”

You wondered how long he would take to get to the point. The only distraction you had were the noises that continued outside. An odd gunshot here and there really pulled your attention away from the story.

“Serpentine with their stupid code names. They really thought they were all that.” He sounded embarrassingly like a bitchy teenager. “Who do they think they were fooling with the Norse Gods thing, huh? Naming your leader Odin, his wife Frigga.”

“I fucking hated them,” he spat, face twisting into anger. “Told them to watch out, that I’d end their legacy. They laughed in my face.” 

He spun around, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pointed to Sam, “That’s where you come in.”

Sam looked thoroughly irritated with the show that was going on in front of him. If he wasn’t gagged you had no doubt he’d have a few comments to pass. Ones that would get the both of you killed. 

“I told you to kill their leader. One job. You fucked that up.” Sam recalling the story of his first mission flashed in your memory. “Let that old nutjob into your head and allowed him to escape. We didn’t know where he was for years.”

“I let it go because I thought Serpentine was done for. Radio silence after Odin disappeared. And they were, until a few years ago when I get news that they have a new leader. Odin’s son, the new heir.” He waved around his hands, mocking the last part of his sentence. “Word on the street was that he wanted to kill whoever murdered his mother in front of his eyes.”

“I thought that was hilarious. You know why?” He laughed humourlessly. “Because that was you. You were the one who killed his mother. You remember that? Your big mission?”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one had even heard of him. His brother’s too soft to take on anything like this. He’s some farmer in England now. But he was supposed to be Odin’s only son. Yet somehow, the only person who could have known this other son existed and actually seen him… was you.”

“Turns out he’s like you. A secret adoption. No record of him anywhere.” You didn’t blink, not once taking your eyes off him in case he decided to go wild. “He should have died that day. You were supposed to kill them.”

Only Ransone would justify killing a kid because it fit his agenda. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and though he tried very hard to shove his ideology onto you, you never complied.

“Goes by Loki now, another stupid codename. Trained by his father who this idiot let go of.” He gestured to Sam callously, “and mad about the murder of his mother that you committed. Serpentine came back pretty quickly after he took control.”

A particularly loud sound of metal slamming would have made you jump had you not been tied down. Ransone swung around in anger, loudly cursing at them for ruining his train of thought. He muttered some more curses under his breath before plastering a fake smile on his face and continuing.

“I’ll admit, he’s a sneaky one. But they grew faster than any other cartel. They somehow knew all our connections, all our targets, our key players. It wasn’t possible,” he shook his head low as he paced up and down slowly. You knew where this was headed. “Unless we had someone giving them information from the inside.”

He stops to look at you.

“I would have forgiven you, Y/N, I really would. You know how I am about second chances.” He looked at you, eyebrows upturned with regretful eyes. “But then you had to go and spy on me for two years.”

You could see Sam turn to you from the corner of your eye, assessing your reaction. You didn't extend the same courtesy to him. You didn’t have any reaction.

“We found out very late, of course. I taught you well,” he chided, his inescapable  narcissism making an appearance once more. “But then we had to figure out why. Why you’d betray me and everything I’ve done for you.”

“I still can’t figure that out.” You wanted to scream at him, everything he had taken away from you, everything he forced you to be. “I treated you the best out of everyone I had. You had the best training, the best resources. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere if I didn’t drag you out of that shithole orphanage.”

You had heard of blissfully ignorant, but he was well beyond that at this point. 

“Didn’t take too long to connect the dots. What, with Wilson’s great act of charity and your lack of better judgement, both of you managed to fuck up enough to screw me over years later.”

“I initially was only going to have you killed, Buttercup,” he admitted nonchalantly, like your life had no value. “But then we found out that Sam’s been lying to me for a long time too. Been hidin’ his friend a few states away.”

“It was meant to be,” he cooed. “Such a similar past. You could have met each other before, you know? Pierce wouldn’t be the first time you were at the same house on the same day.”

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you had known Sam earlier. Would you have been friends or would you have been forced to kill each other in his sick ‘survival of the fittest’ game?

“It felt poetic to have you both die together, you know? On a mission gone wrong. A full circle.” God, he spent too long planning something elaborate when he could have just put a bullet in your head and ended you the day he found out. Fucking weirdo.

“Made sure I sent you to the same place at the same time. Pierce was dead long before you came, the poor fuck. But then again, collateral damage. No mercy.” He shrugged. “Had everyone at the ready. You should have died that night.”

“But like everything you do,” his voice suddenly rose like a child throwing a tantrum, “you fucked that up for me too. Escaped with his stupid fucking car.”

“None of those useless agents could find you. How could they?” The beauty was that Ransone must have spent too long looking when you were basically right there, just miles away. “You didn’t go to one of our locations and Serpentine hides their safehouses well.”

You still remembered the relief when the door accepted your fingerprint. 

 It was a long shot but you didn't have anywhere else to go. You weren’t even sure that this house existed.

Another loud crash arrived from the outside with noises that sounded like more gunshots, making Ransone jump this time. Just how many people were being tortured here?

“Keep the volume down, you stupid fucking imbeciles!” he screeched, pounding at the metal door. The decibel reduced, but still continued on.  

He dragged his palm across his face in exasperation, talking under his breath to himself. He shook his head before turning back to you.

"Oh, by the way, don't think about escaping. Got every last one of my best agents out here after that stunt you pulled at Pierce’s house,” he says offhandedly.

He takes a second to regroup, get back into character.

“So we released your pictures to the public. Can’t go very far if people are looking for you constantly. It was the only way we could get you to stay in one place.” Ransone raised his shoulders casually. “We had every lowlife out there waiting for one of you to show up.”

“We eventually had someone report Wilson in a town a while away from Pierce. I was making my way there but then you sent me your location on your own. Had men outside your house that night.” He paused, peering at the plane in his hand.

He finally let it go, watching as it barely went any distance before nose diving to the ground. Your eyes trailed after it, hoping he wouldn’t crush it with his foot.

“This is the worst fucking paper plane I’ve ever seen. The balance is completely off.” He stared at it in wonder, picking it up again and shoving it back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Anyway one of them heard you talkin’ about how you’re leaving the next day so we just got ready at the door.”

“Et voila.” He grinned, spreading his arms. “Here we are. Brilliant, wasn’t it?”

Unnecessarily long, but you weren’t going to complain. 

“Oh, I forgot you can’t talk.” His mouth quirked downwards into a ‘whoops’. 

He took a long pause right in front of you before his hand reached out to cradle your face. “I wouldn’t let those idiots kill you, Buttercup. You deserved better than that.”

He stared unnervingly into your eyes, looking for a hint of anything, any sort of remorse. He wasn’t going to find any. You wished he saw nothing but hatred. 

“It’s why I had to kill you myself.” He sighed when you pulled your face away the best you could from his palm in disgust. “But I’ll do you a solid. I’ll give you a chance to beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you’re good enough I’ll let you go.”

You knew he was lying. He had no intention of doing that. He only wanted you to grovel in submission, plead for your life for a fucking power trip.

He ripped off the tape that was over your mouth, making you flinch at the burn. He pulled out the cloth faster than you could spit it out at him.

“Go ahead,” Ransone said smugly. His ego would outlive all of you. 

“Him first.” Your mouth was dry and your lips felt chapped. You had clearly been knocked out for a while by then. You had no idea how far away you were from the original location.

“What?” His smile dropped to a frown rather quickly.

“Him first.” You mentioned towards Sam with your head. 

“That’s cute.” He laughed, stopping when you didn’t join in. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I’m not saying shit till he does too.” You were bemused, monotonous. You just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible. 

“Fine,” he huffed when your expression didn’t change. “It’d be fun to watch him beg anyway.”

You hear the rip of the tape from his face, the scrunch of the material before he balled it up and threw it on the floor.

Sam shook his head furiously, forcing Ransone to take a step back swiftly before he hit him. 

“Right.” Ransone clapped his hands together. “Let’s get star-”

He was interjected by another loud bang followed by a series of gunshots. Another victim massacred. He groaned in frustration, stamping his feet at the constant interruption. The universe was determined to not let him finish his monologue in peace, and for that, you thanked her.

You looked at Sam, nodding slightly. He gave you a small smile in return, calming the nerves you were beginning to feel.

“Where were we?” Ransone did not look happy; a vein was dangerously visible on his forehead. Now would not be the best time to do anything that angered him. “Yes, go ahead. Beg.”

“Ransone,” Sam began, exhaling lightly. “We knew.”

The smile on Ransone’s face faltered. “What did you say?”

“He said we knew,” you cut in. “You melodramatic fuck.”

Ransone’s grin faded abruptly and it was by far the most satisfying experience you had ever experienced.

“Yeah, we figured it out ourselves a while ago.” Sam had the slightest smirk on his face. “Y/N did, actually.”

“Fuck,” you cursed.

You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?

“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you. 

“I’m listening.”

“I think it’s Ransone. He’s been trying to kill us.”

“Why?” He didn’t sound judgemental, hardly even fazed, like it was a completely plausible suggestion. You couldn’t express how glad you were.

“The guy you didn't kill, if he’s the old head of Serpentine, then... I know his son.” Your mouth was dry as your mind raced to piece it together. “He’s the one I didn’t kill.”

“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could see him trying to figure out the connection. “How are you so sure?”

You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale. “I’m going to need you to not react to what I’m going to tell you.”

“Okay...” he trailed off. 

“I’ve been working with him for two years. Passing information on to him about Ransone.”

“Wait so that means-”

“I’m the spy. And I think Ransone figured it out. He wants to kill me.”

“You knew,” Ransone stated. He looked like he was in a daze.

Sam looked at you once before nodding. “If you would shut up and let someone else talk for once, we would have told you a while ago.”

“It helped that you confirmed details about Pierce’s death without us having to tell you.” The last conversation you had with him replayed in your head verbatim. “There’s no way you would have known he was dead before we got there unless we told you. Or you did it.” 

“We knew you had agents outside the house. Kinda expected that when we gave you the address,” you shrugged the best you could, “Sam’s security cameras got all of them.”

“Made sure that one fuck behind the tree could hear us planning outside,” Sam added. “He wasn’t very stealthy, by the way.”

“Have you decided on a day?”

You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”

“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”

He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, almost like he was crouching instead of sitting.

His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you.

“You knew you were going to be ambushed.”

“No shit.” You nodded. 

The loud bangs continued outside the door but you paid no heed to it. The closer it got, the more your stomach jumped, hoping that more people you pissed off didn’t storm in. You had quite a list anyway.

“You knew they were coming,” Ransone appeared like he had gears turning in his own head, trying to add everything up on his own. “Then why didn’t you run?”

“Well, we kinda needed all of you in one place.” 

“Huh?” He blinked, not listening to all the commotion that was going on around him. If he didn’t, he was choosing to focus on this instead.

“We had to take out all of you at once,” you disclosed, fidgeting with the rope to see if it would give. “Kinda knew you were waiting to kill us yourself when we gave you the location and nothing happened immediately. You’re too much of a sissy to kill us without backup so we wanted you in one place with the rest of them.”

You tilted your head towards the two men standing in the corner.

“You knew all this while and lied,” Ransone jeered, face twisting into something rather indiscernible; a nice mix of shame and rage.

“Not like we had another choice, man.” You just knew Sam was rolling his eyes. “You think I would voluntarily listen to you monologue like an idiot?”

“You did gag us,” you added, trying to buy as much time as you could. “That’s on you.” 

The ropes were still tight as could be and the chair wouldn’t budge. Even your feet were too tightly tied together to do anything. It was what you expected, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Shut up!” Ranone’s face was hideously red.

“You rehearsed it, didn’t you?” Sam called out, taunt in his tone. “With the lighting and shit.”

“He doesn’t have to. He does one a week to some poor fuck who has to listen.” 

You couldn’t believe the both of you were teaming up to bully a man who literally held the fate of your lives in his hands. It was something you never imagined yourself doing.

“How do people take you seriously?” Sam laughed. More than yours, his remarks seemed to be ticking Ransone off. 

Ransone let out a guttural cry, knuckles so white you were afraid they were going to break. He whips around, stomping over to pull the gun from the hand of one of his bodyguards.

“Easy there, DeNiro, that’s not a stage prop.” Sam chided.

The concrete in front of him suddenly cracks loudly. He looked up, slightly taken aback. 

“Next time it’ll be your fucking face,” Ransone snarled, waving the gun around like a maniac. You send a cautionary glance to Sam, telling him to back off. Ransone was volatile. He would act without thinking. 

“Why did you kill everyone I was friends with, Vincent?” you asked slowly, trying to divert his mind. 

He turned to you, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why did you take everyone from me?” The more you asked, the more it became about genuine curiosity rather than a distraction from shooting Sam in the head.

“Take everyone from- none of them were going to last anyway!” He throws his hands up in the air angrily. “I was saving you from yourself. From the eventual pain.”

His face was desperate, and you for a second forced yourself to think from his perspective. He looked like he truly believed in what he was saying, like he genuinely thought he was supporting you. Like he cared. The thought that maybe he truly wanted to help you was the only way you could comfort yourself for so many years. 

“If you were in pain, you wouldn’t perform. I was only pushing you to your full potential,” he continued, a wild smile on his face mixed with eyes rimmed red like he was ready to cry. 

Your stomach sank, even though you hated it. It wasn’t about you, it was about what he could get from you. 

There was silence. Even the noises outside seemed to have stopped, all waiting for your next move.

“You’re a sick, conniving fuck,” your words waver, and you hope it hits him as hard as it can, “And I can’t wait till you’re dead.”

His face morphed from one of helplessness to slow fury once more. Manipulative prick.

“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one tied up?” He wipes at his nose, voice returning to normal. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I need to know why you let yourself be captured so willingly.”

Your incessant need to know everything stemmed from him and the paranoia he induced in you from when you were a kid. Everything you thought was wrong about you came from him.

“We told you, you overdramatic fuck.” Sam drew the attention away from you thankfully. You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. 

“What, that you needed the team in one place to take us out?” Ransone asked, to no one’s answer. “You and what army?”

“Well, the one who’s been here for a while now,” you pipe up.

No one says anything. Pin drop silence reigns free. 

“You said he’d be here,” Sam hissed at you. “How much longer do we keep this going?”

“He said he would,” you argued back, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Ransone asked, but you continued to ignore him.

“What are we going to do if he-”

The door violently exploded off its hinges, sending debris flying everywhere. You clenched your eyes shut and ducked your head to avoid getting smacked in the face with rubble

The dust hadn’t even cleared before multiple rounds were fired. You flinched when your ringing ears hurt more at the sound of gunshots. 

You struggle against your ropes, trying to get to Sam. They only get tighter until suddenly your arms break free. Your neck and legs soon follow as you shrug off the ropes that were cleanly sliced off.

Your ears were still getting used to the chaos when you notice someone humming behind you. It took a second to register that it was a fucking Britney Spears song. 

“What took you so long?” You coughed, waving the air in front of you to clear it as you stumbled towards Sam.

“I wanted to make an entrance,” Loki said dismissively, following you. “I think I may have overshot it by a few seconds.”

You fell to your knees in front of Sam, quickly moving to untie the familiar knots. He lifted his head to look at you, a thin layer of dust covering his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked in concern, simultaneously untying as fast as you could. It was one you had used many times before; a complicated knot that guaranteed you wouldn’t have been able to make it out of the bondage.

“I think my leg’s asleep but other than that I’m good.” 

You give him a small smile, thankful that he wasn’t hurt enough to lose his dry sense of humour. Your hand involuntarily reached up to brush some dust off his cheekbone. The intensity with which he looked at you had you swallowing thickly.

You snapped out of it quickly, working on freeing his legs as Loki took a step behind his chair to cut the rest of him loose.

“This him?” Sam mentioned to Loki, massaging his wrist to return some feeling into it. 

“You can just ask me, you know,” Loki commented, but clearly not taking any offence. 

“I’m sorry about your family, man.” 

You didn’t expect Sam to say that, and from the looks of it, neither did Loki. He stopped for a moment, before continuing to cut the last rope.

“You let my father go,” he said, sawing the last part off, “and although I personally think you should have killed the miserable old bastard, he made it clear that he owed you one.”

The both of you stood up. You glanced around the room, noting how both of Ransone’s bodyguards were on the floor, bullet holes riddling their body. 

He himself was beside them, lying facefront on the ground. Armani suit be damned.

“How many more are outside?” Sam asked, tearing your attention away from the bodies on the floor.

“All taken care of.” Loki put the knife back into its sheath on his thigh. “We made quite a commotion. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything.”

“He’s a little dense,” Sam remarked. Most of the noises you heard earlier weren’t just other victims being tortured, although you knew that it was still a large fraction of it.

“Should we go?” you asked, doing a quick sweep of the room. You found nothing moving among the pile of rubble.

“Unless you got anything else left to do.” Loki gestured to the large hole in the wall where the door was.

“I think we’re done.”

He simply nodded, spinning on his heel to walk out the room when someone yelled from behind you. 

You all halted what you were doing, slowly turning to look at where the noise was coming from.

“Don’t take another step,” Ransone warned, a gun pointed straight at you, barely able to stand straight. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him. His suit was torn and he had a few streaks of blood down his face. His hair was tousled and unkempt, rougher than it had ever been before. “Or I swear I’ll-”

“Oh, shut up,” Loki interjected, firing a shot into Ransone’s stomach before anyone could even react. He returned the gun to its holster that you didn’t even notice was there on his waist. “He talks too much.”

Ransone staggered back until he hit the wall, knees buckling beneath his weight as he slid to the ground. The gun he pried off his bodyguards lay where he was standing previously. 

You ignored Sam’s uneasy questions as you took a step forward. 

You picked the gun up, cautiously making your way to Ransone. You crouched next to his body. He looked at you before looking down. You followed his line of sight, watching as he lifted his hands. They were covered in blood. 

“How’d he know where to find you?” Ransone’s voice was more subdued than you’d ever heard him.

You reached over, slipping your fingers into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paper airplane that was flattened due to the impact.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left.

You unfolded it, letting a small object, not bigger than a button, fall into your palm. He stared at it before realisation dawned on him. 

“I knew you’d take all my weapons, but you wouldn’t get rid of this,” you disclosed, folding the paper plane back to what it was and gently putting it into your pocket. It was still salvageable. “Not if you could use it to hurt me.” 

You watched him take a shaky breath, flinching when more blood rushed out of him. 

“You can still help me, Y/N. We can get out of here together,” he rasped. “Think about everything we’ve been through. We can work it out. I love you.”

You involuntarily let out a strangled cry at the last part. It was nothing but a last ditch attempt to persuade you, pull you back in.

“Look- look at me. Buttercup,” he croaked when you wouldn’t oblige. “I love you. I’m your home.” 

You finally look at him. Look right into his eyes, red rimmed and fading. You look for it, the adoration he spoke of. The care he promised. Anything to make sense of why he would tear you apart time and time again. The love he had for you.

You find nothing. Gray eyes look back at you blankly, desperately, in pain.

“You never were,” you whisper, standing up abruptly. 

You raised your arm, pointing the gun at him. He sputtered out more half baked apologies, unaware of anything that was coming out of his own mouth.

You clench your eyes shut, pulling the trigger. He lets out a cry when the bullet lodges in his shoulder. 

You take a step back, letting the scene imprint itself in your brain of him powerless on the ground at your will. If you followed what he preached, you’d have ended his life right there. No mercy.

But you weren’t him. And you didn’t ever want to be.

“I need to do something too,” you heard Sam say. You can feel him near you, brushing against you for a moment as he gently reached for the gun you held. You gave it to him, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance. 

Ransone looked at Sam as he stood beside you. He fired a single shot into his leg, clearly hitting bone. You hear the same wail from before, mixed with sputtering as blood leaked from his mouth.

“That was from Riley. He says fuck you.” Sam let his hand fall again. “All yours, man.” 

“You already know what this is for,” Loki said simply. 

You chose not to look away as he shot the last round right into his forehead. Ransone’s head slumped over. Dead, glassy eyes stared beyond you. 

None of you say anything. Just stare at the lifeless body in front of you.

“It’s really over, huh?” Sam’s voice is quiet, like he's having trouble processing what just happened.

You don’t answer. Only take a step towards him, and intertwine your fingers with his, continuing to stare at the corpse of your lifelong abuser. 

____

The sun was beating down on you. You didn’t expect it to be evening when you stepped out of the warehouse. 

“Where are we?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness that left you squinting.

“Middle of nowhere, I’d say.” Loki stares with disdain at the old building that looked worse for wear. “Would it kill the man to have a bit of taste?”

That reminded you. “Thanks for the house. And… sorry we showed up uninvited.”

“You didn’t do too much damage to it, I hope.”

You looked at him guiltily, mind flashing to the many bullet holes that decorated the back wall. “I’ll pay for the repairs.”

“Forget it. It’s of no use since everyone knows it exists now.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So, Y/N. I guess that concludes our deal?”

“I guess it does.” You nodded,

Sam wraps his arms around your shoulder and you lean into him with a sigh, allowing the comfort his touch brought to seep into you. 

“How’d you guys make a deal anyway?” he inquired. You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily.

“Well, I was going to kill you at first,” Loki explained offhandedly, gesturing to you. “But then-”

He trailed off.

You remember, clear as day, when Loki confronted you in the early hours of the morning outside the park you went on runs. He had a gun pulled on you before you could fathom what was going on, before you could even realise who he was.

“But then?” Sam prodded.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“Saw something that I recognised,” he said dryly, eyeing you up and down. “We were both pulled into something we didn’t have a say in. Stuck, you could say. I just thought that it was a win-win situation if we worked together to kill that idiot back there.” 

“So you agreed to spy on him,” Sam concluded. “You got revenge. What was your incentive?”

You look at Loki who just smiled at you. You return one half heartedly.

“I’d say freedom is a pretty big reward, wouldn’t you?” And it was. You couldn’t even begin to explain the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders. “I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly normal life. Might have to change your identity, move around a bit.”

“Everyone’s looking for us as wanted criminals,” Sam voiced everything you were forgetting about in the surge of emotions rushing through you.

“I got some connections,” Loki said dismissively. You peered at him from under Sam's arm. “I can have it traced back to a dead mobster in a warehouse, no problem. If they think it’s a gang war there’s no way they’ll try to get too involved. Consider it a gift from my father.” 

Sam nodded, relaxing slightly now that most things were taken care of.

“That’s sorted then.” Loki examined the barren land that surrounded you. “You’re going to need a ride back to civilization, aren’t you?”

“If that’s possible.”

“I’ll have someone drop you off. You got any place to go? At least to stay low for a while.”

You didn’t have anyone. The only one you had was the man beside you. Nothing was settling in at the moment, and you realised that it would be a long road until it did. But you had a shot. A real shot at something even resembling recovery. 

Sam and you looked at each other before he turned back to Loki and nodded.

“New Orleans.”

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