#fuck that turned into a rant. i’m sorry chat. if anyone actually read all that have a cookie ����_(◕‿◕｡)

[shitty-skyblings-doodles-daily]

today, it’s pearl’s turn to yap! grian and jimmy just got to know a lot more moth facts!

[roniscloud]

psh - love affair

park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair

so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?

maybe it’s just all in my head, so

don’t overthink, this is love

maybe it’s just a crush

baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?

synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?

genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au. 

warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.

i. prologue

if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day. 

but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties. 

she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.

but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty. 

alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.

back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.

ii. the cafe

the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.

a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.

the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available. 

in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.

sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.

ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.

he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.

“what are you trying to pull here, park?”

“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”

“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”

“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”

“and why the hell do you think that is?”

“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.

you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.

he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”

“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”

he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face. 

by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.

“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”

“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”

“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”

he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”

you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.

“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”

“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”

he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”

you cut him off, “you can say that again.”

“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”

“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”

“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”

again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”

now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”

“you wish.”

his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”

“offense taken… but i see your point.”

“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”

you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”

iii. bro code

a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”

“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.

jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”

“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.

“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”

that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.

later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.

when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.

you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”

“just now. how long were you waiting?”

you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”

“um… almost 11.”

“then like four hours.”

“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.

“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”

he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”

you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”

“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”

“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”

“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”

you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”

“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”

“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.

iv. rated pg

the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles. 

you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”

you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”

sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on. 

when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”

a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.

you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load. 

“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought. 

“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”

you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.

he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot. 

v. pretty boy

the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.

“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.

heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”

jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”

out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.

jake breaks first, “wait, what?”

heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”

sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.

“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”

“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket, 

“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”

he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”

“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”

he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”

vi. jukebox

the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth. 

“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”

you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.

“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”

sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.

“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.

“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.

you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”

“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.

you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,

“what took you so long, park?”

right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”

you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”

once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”

you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.

he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.

you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.

sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”

you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”

sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.

“i missed hearing you sing.”

sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”

you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”

“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”

“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.

there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.

sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.

vii. nerds

sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon. 

opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”

sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”

“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.

sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”

“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.

definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”

“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.

“you two are such nerds.”

you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.

he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.

heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.

sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”

you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.

behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”

you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”

he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”

“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”

“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”

you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”

he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”

viii. proud

a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.

you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.

thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.

the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.

you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”

“because…  it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.

you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.

he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.

when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.

in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.

ix. spring break

it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.

everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side. 

you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”

you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.

he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”

everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.

he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.

“what’s got you so lost?”

your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”

just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot. 

“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”

“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi. 

the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.

you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”

he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is. 

that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face. 

by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.

the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.

meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.

x. disaster averted

the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.

while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes. 

“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”

she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”

“of course! she’s like my big sister.”

his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“what?!”

sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.

the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”

sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.

yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”

you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”

“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.

“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”

she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”

jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”

“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?” 

“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”

“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother. 

with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”

“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.

you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”

“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”

everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.

xi. returning the favor

fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick. 

now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you. 

which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.

“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”

he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.

“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.

you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.” 

you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”

“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”

he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”

xii. the party

the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing. 

yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.

“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”

right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.

“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?” 

they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.

you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.

“i figured you would want some space.”

“how’d you know where i was?”

he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”

“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”

“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”

“sunghoon, look-”

“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”

you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”

sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”

you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Ex

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Words: 2,125

Summary: Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

Note: I’ve been in a fluffy mood as of recently HOWEVER this idea was sparked when I was feeling angsty™ so...sorry but also not sorry?

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @simonsbluee​, @darling-i-read-it​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

“That wife of yours has been sneaking around with my brother. Breaking more hearts than just yours from what I can see.”

“I suppose some people just can’t see the worthiness of the king in front of them. If I were your wife, I wouldn’t be like Y/n. I’d be committed you and never give you fib tales like her.”

“You are aware that Y/n has been plotting something nefarious against you, aren’t you?”

“I know you wanted to marry someone just as sinister as you, but perhaps you should’ve checked where her loyalty lied before tying that knot.”

Aurora fed him stories such as these, and many more, each conclusion of the lies spewing from her mouth something appalling about Y/n. At first, Klaus didn’t listen, but as her stories grew worse and worse, the faux feeling of treachery intensified. He knew it was unwise to believe anything that came from the spiteful, jealous woman...yet, his distress caused pain to strike his heart and he yearned to know the truth.

Although, in this case, the “truth” wasn’t actually very truthful.

She often told him things like that Lucien was going after his girl for the second time, first with her when she had her chance and now, his beloved wife. Klaus merely brushed it off with an honest “he tries and I’ll stake him first chance I get”. However, Aurora wasn’t finished yet. She continued to lie and deceive Niklaus about the woman who she accused of replacing her in his life. The envy and loathing Aurora felt for Y/n was her motivator, but the woman was too far up a wall to need one in the first place.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He growled, keeping his eyes trained at the wall in front of them.

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know I can trust your bold claims. So answer me, Aurora, are you telling me the truth?”

That smug little grin, masking her deluding ways. “Of course, Nik. I would never lie to you.” Her welcome into his trust was unsurprisingly taken advantage of  when she traced her finger down his arm and then brought her hand up his abdomen slowly. Klaus shoved her invasive hand off of his chest though, giving her a warning glare.

“Thank you for informing me.” That was all he said to her before he made his way out of the room in the most hurry she’d ever seen him in.

Aurora smiled conceitedly. Her plans were on the right track. Whilst Nik didn’t have the same feelings for her now as he did way back during the beginning of their story, but Aurora was determined to stir those feelings from the dead as vampirism did him and her.

She drawled under her breath, “I will have you again, Nik.” her mischievous smile grew wider, “I will have you again, and nothing can stop me this time.”

“Blasphemy!” Niklaus shouted, veins popping out from the rage coursing in his system. He neared Y/n again, the slight fear in her eyes drawing a pause for a second, guilt stilling him, but his anger took the reigns once more.

“It’s not blasphemy! I would never lie to you!”

“The falsity of your deception proves otherwise, love.” He smirked, raising his brows as to question if she would battle his words yet again. Proof was what he needed, but his vexation had drowned out all logic, including his ability to see the proof he wanted so desperately.

“What deception? What falsehood do you believe to have come from my mouth? When I married you, I vowed to be truthful and loyal. You of all people on this fucking earth should know I always keep a vow.” She narrowed her eyes at him. The betrayal he thought he felt was temporary and fabricated, but hers was 100% genuine and seething within her.

“You say that but if you were indeed an untrue person, your answer would be no different.”

“Why do you insist on proving me a traitor!? What has pushed you so far past your breaking point that you actually accuse me, your wife, as a viper?”

“Don’t you pretend like you don’t know the malicious schemes you’ve plotted against me or the affairs you’ve had with men who obviously aren’t your husband!” He couldn’t stop himself now; “I’ve loved you for centuries and you decide to be disloyal and ill-natured?!”

“Says who?!”

“Says Aurora!” After the words flew from his mouth, a tiny part of him realized just how fucked up it sounded. Just how fucked up it was that he believed her over his wife, but the hybrid was stubborn. He was too stubborn to change his belief or admit his fallacious accusations were unjust without proper evidence.

Y/n knew Aurora and Klaus’ story. Her knowledge of the ancient and long forgotten tale made her reaction thousands of times worse. “Aurora? ...Huh. You choose to believe her- that manipulative, lying bitch, over me? I thought you knew me better than that.” She wiped away a rebellious tear, “I thought I knew you better than that.”

Disappointment hung heavy on her features, drawing a feeling of shame from Klaus. Y/n glared at him one last time, her knitted brows and vaguely teary eyes evidence of the heavy-heartedness that overwhelmed her. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly before turning and walking out the front gate-doors of the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus was alone.

The sounds of Davina’s giggles echoed, Cami sitting in front of her and chuckling heartfully as well. Their laughter died off when they noticed Y/n sulking through the front doors of Rousseau's. The place was empty aside from the two women having drinks and a friendly chat. Then Y/n entered and found a seat. The atmosphere, once cheery, suddenly felt melancholy.

“Hey, Y/n, you alright?” Camille’s smile was wiped from her lips. She felt empathy for Klaus’ wife and, as a friendly person in general, she felt overcome with the need to help solve the complication that made her feel so down in the dumps.

“I’m-” She was ready to say fine, Davina and Cami knew it, but she broke down in tears before she could even shape an “o” with her lips. Both women jumped up immediately and sat in the seats beside Y/n. Though Davina couldn’t stand Klaus, she actually liked Y/n and seeing her hurt sent searing pain into her own heart.

“It’s okay, hun,” Cami wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, her other hand rubbing her other shoulder and arm comfortingly, “take as long as you need, there’s no pressure, no rush, none of that. We’ve got you.”

And so they did. The two women took turns holding Y/n as she cried, and before long, she was ready to talk. She explained Klaus’ anger and the source of their fight, the source of the fake news he’d lashed out because of. Davina and Cami shared a glance when Aurora was mentioned, both women already hating her but equally despising her even more now. Y/n sobbed, crying into Cami’s shoulder about wanting Klaus to just believe her. She said she loved him and because of that, she felt pained by his lack of belief in her.

“He’s not worth it if he can’t see how wrong that decision was-”

“I know, but he’s my husband. I vowed to love him always and forever, to never leave his side, and I intend to keep that vow...so long as he doesn’t do anything to fuck it up any more than he already has.”

The sun began to sink into the dark, not fully quite yet, but still creating it’s beautiful array of colors as a final act before disappearing for the night. About halfway through Y/n’s rant, Cami called Hayley and gave her a summary of what she knew so far. A promise of arriving as soon as she could was returned on Hayley’s end before the line went dead and Cami returned to the table.

Still not entirely after sunset yet, Hayley swung open the door to Rousseau's, catching Davina and Y/n off guard. Despite being the one who called her, Cami stayed seated. Y/n and the witch beside her exchanged confused expressions.

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna tell me what the hell I need to do to Klaus?”

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping away more of the salty tears, before standing and walking over to Hayley, greeting her with a hug. “You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to-”

“No, trust me, I have to and I want to.” She pulled away and dropped her warm smile, giving Y/n the most serious look she could muster. And as she was Hayley Marshall, it was effortlessly pretty fucking serious. “Now, I want you tell me everything,” the mom voice came out to play, “don’t leave a single detail out. Then, we can discuss what we’re going to do about it.”

“Where is he?”

Rebekah had been informed by the pissed off werewolf and bartender everything that had happened, resulting in her becoming equally upset. She welcomed Hayley inside the gates and nodded her head up the stairs. “I haven’t said anything to him, so you’ll be lucky enough to catch him by surprise.”

The werewolf nodded in understanding before pacing toward the stairs irritability. “Thanks.”

“Make it hurt!” Rebekah’s voice faded away as she walked out the gates, leaving Hayley alone to find Niklaus.

Atop the stairs, she found no sign of anyone whatsoever, but that was only on the outside. If Klaus happened to be inside on of the many rooms, she wouldn’t waste her time searching. Instead, she waited, leaning against the railing and doing a breathing exercise Y/n taught her during one lonely full-moon. 

After minutes of waiting, Klaus finally walked out of a door and started for the stairs. It wasn’t longer than a minute before he stopped in his tracks and realized he’d missed something. He shot a double take in Hayley’s direction, a puzzled expression quickly finding way to his face. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether or not her unexpected appearance was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he seemingly couldn’t make up his mind, staring a few minutes longer, a heavy sigh left her mouth. She was ticked off with him before, but after hearing everything Y/n had to say, she was furious. No, more than furious. The blood boiling rage was incessantly pounding in her head, all she wanted was cause destruction and pain. A rare thing for her.

But now was not the time to lash out, not yet. She inhaled and exhaled, Hayley shifted on her feet and looked around before turning her head to Klaus and beckoned him over to her with a come-hither motion of her index finger.

“What is it?”

She looked at him, flabbergasted that he’d even ask a question as stupid as that, “What is it? What is it, Klaus?” Hayley slapped him, the man doubling back and blinking in astonishment. And not the good kind.

“How dare you lay your hands on me, you-”

“So you’re gonna yell at me now?” She crossed her arms, and unimpressed look resting upon her face. “You know, personally, I think Y/n is better off without you but she’s broken and has been bawling her eyes out nonstop for hours on end, drinking away all the pain that you’ve formed into a stake and shoved into her chest.”

He stopped, fury fleeing his face as he experienced what felt like her words body-slamming into him.

“And guess who’s been there to pick out the splinters?” She poked her finger against her chest over and over again. “Me!” Her eyes never left his, telling him just how sincere about this she really was. “Me! Cami- even Davina!” Hayley threw her hands in the air, emphasizing the shock that came with the information. “Rebekah’s on her way over now, and I’m sure Elijah will see to it that he comforts his sister-in-law as much as he can, but you?”

“I-”

She cut him off, temper still unquenched, thirsty for vengeance. “Let me finish.” She growled. Hayley looked around the room in attempt to calm herself, but it was to no avail.

“You got her into this mess. I just hope you get both of you guys out of it.” She flicked her eyes back to his, giving him her infamous dead eyed glare. “I really hope you do. And you better do it soon. Because I won’t be there to pick the splinters out for you when she realizes she doesn’t need your sorry ass.”

[texanstarslove]

everything has changed

A/N: So this little number is for @hockeynetwork‘s Winter Gift Exchange and I was matched with @bigboigritty​! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations, my dear! I was thrilled to write a fic for Nolan as I had yet to do so up until this point! I also want to give a special shout out to @danglesnipecelly​ for listening to me rant and rave and yell about this fic NON FUCKING STOP. LOVE YOU K! 

Song Inspo: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, ridiculous amounts of fluff, cheesy friends to lovers trope 

Word Count: 8.5k

*italics indicate flashbacks*

~

They say that opposites attract, like fire and ice or Yin and Yang. Two completely different entities that have no business being together but somehow find a way to connect and create something beautiful.

That was the definition of your relationship with Nolan. 

You were the outgoing one, the one who would talk to anyone like you had known them your whole life without a second thought. You never met a stranger and were friendly and kind. One time while you were waiting for your coffee order at a local café you struck up a conversation with another customer over the most mundane of things: the straws sitting on the counter. That was just the kind of person you were. Always ready to chat with anyone about anything, sincerity in your voice at all times.

Nolan...not so much. He was a nice guy, yes, but he definitely didn’t have the same bubbly, loud, boisterous persona like you. He was happy to keep to himself, never really wanting to go out of his way to make small talk with anyone. Half the time when he spoke, it would come out as mumbles that were borderline incoherent. And although he was sometimes a person of very few words, he also carried an air of confidence. He wasn’t cocky by any means, just someone who seemed to be very sure of themselves most of the time. Some would say he gave off the vibe of someone who was constantly irritated or annoyed, a grump even.

But that was part of the reason he drew you in. He was intriguing to you. He made you want to get to know him better. He could say the same about you, how you made him want to open up in ways he never could with anyone else. The way you carried yourself made that easy, your nonjudgmental attitude made talking to you effortless.

When you first met Nolan, it was in the elevator of the apartment building you had just moved into. You were carrying the last of your belongings in perhaps one too many boxes, struggling to make it to the elevator before the doors closed. It was then, unbeknownst to either of you at the moment, that everything had changed.

“Hey, wait! Could you hold that for me?”

You moved as fast as you could, the person in the elevator holding their hand against the door to keep it open. You huffed out a ‘thank you’ before leaning against the wall to catch your breath, running your eyes over the person standing just a foot or two away from you. He was tall, easily towering over your smaller frame, hair swept under a cap that sat backward on his head. When you were finally able to get a good look at his face, the first thing that struck you were his eyes. They were the same as the sky and sea calming after a storm, swirls of gray and blue mixing seamlessly into one beautiful color. Something about those eyes made you stare just a little too long, your trance was only broken when he cleared his throat and glanced at you expectantly, his voice so much deeper than you thought it would sound like.

“What, uh...what floor?”

“Oh, um,” You blinked, shaking your head as if to bring you back to reality, and glanced at the button display to your left. The button for your floor, the sixth, was already illuminated. “Looks like mine has already been pressed. You headed to the sixth floor?”

The man just nodded, lifting his cap with one hand and running the fingers of his free hand through his hair before settling the cap back on his head. You cocked your head to the side, studying him once more. You immediately picked up on his reserved vibe but you felt compelled to talk to him some more.

“I’m assuming you live here, too?” 

He nodded his head again but turned slightly to face you so it didn’t look like he was ignoring you. You noticed his hands fidgeting in the front pocket of the black hoodie he was wearing as you continued to try and coax conversation from him.

“Do you like this complex?” You asked, “I read the reviews before I moved in and they all seemed pretty good. I figure asking a current resident how they felt about it would make me feel better about my decision.”

One of his hands leaves the pocket of his hoodie to rub the back of his neck. “It’s pretty nice. I just moved in this year and can’t really complain too much about it.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear,” You replied, “This is the perfect spot between where I work and the university. I figured having someplace right in between would bode well for me.”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like a good idea.”

You nodded your head, clicking your tongue as you thought of more things to say to keep conversation with him. The way that he spoke intrigued you. It was almost as if he was talking behind his teeth, his voice almost coming out as a mumble. You studied him some more, noticing how he slowly rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes downcast as if to avoid eye contact. The vibe he was giving off wasn’t exactly standoff-ish, but he definitely wasn’t jumping at the chance to keep talking. You didn’t know what it was, but something about him pulled you in and you wanted to know more about him. The elevator dinging as it reached your floor interrupted your thoughts and you shifted the boxes in your hands as the doors opened. 

“Do you need help with that?” The man asked as the top box began to teeter over the edge of the one it was situated on.

“No, no,” You rushed, “I’ve got it.”

“You sure? It looks like you’re about to..”

Just as the words were about to escape his lips, the top two boxes came tumbling out of the elevator doors, its contents scattering across the floor. You sighed heavily, shaking your head at the scene in front of you before bursting into a fit of giggles. The man looked between you and the mess that had just been created by your stubbornness and sighed.

“Just like a woman,” He mumbled, “Never wanting to accept help.”

You caught on to the teasing in his monotone voice quickly, turning to stick your tongue out at him as you giggled some more. 

“Oh, shut it.” You shot back through your laughter, “You can help me now if you want.”

He chuckled softly, extending his arm out of the elevator as if to lead you out. You shook your head as you walked into the hallway, thankful no one else was around to see what a disaster you had created. You crouched down to begin picking up your things, throwing them haphazardly into the boxes on the ground. The man did the same, only he was a little more careful with your belongings as he placed them inside the boxes.

“God, you must think I’m a hot mess.” You sighed, putting the last few items back in their box. “I swear I’m a little more put together most of the time.”

“Not a hot mess,” He said, “A little talkative maybe but…”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cut him off, “I have a tendency to chat people’s ears off. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” He reassured you, “I’m used to it. I have a buddy who never shuts up so really, it doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled, nodding your head, grateful that he didn’t think you were a complete loon. It was at this point you realized you hadn’t even properly introduced yourself. “And you must think I’m incredibly rude making you help me pick up my shit when we don’t even know each other’s names.” You offered your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

He gently took your hand, squeezing lightly as he shook it. “Nolan.”

“Well, Nolan,” You stood from where you were crouched down, holding the boxes you could while he carried the others. “I really appreciate your help.”

“If you would’ve let me help you in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.” That teasing was back again. He stood from his spot as well, a sly smirk spread across his lips.

You playfully bumped his hip with yours as the two of you walked down the hall to the front door of your apartment. Setting the boxes you were carrying beside the door frame, you pulled your keys from your jacket pocket and unlocked the door, gently pushing the boxes across the threshold with your foot before taking the remaining boxes from Nolan.

“This is crazy,” He mumbled, pointing over his shoulder, “My apartment is literally right across the hall.”

“Yeah?” You turned to face him once you set the last of the boxes inside, “That’s awesome! Maybe we’ll become best friends after all.”

Nolan smiled, his already rosy cheeks darkening just slightly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah, maybe.”

That chance meeting in that elevator was quite possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to you. Not only had you met your neighbor and actually got along with him, but you also became friends, best friends, almost instantly. It started with the occasional meet up at each other’s apartments, getting to know each other before hanging out almost regularly. Your polar opposite personalities meshed together perfectly, both of you bringing out the best in each other. Nolan felt like he could be 100% authentic, becoming more and more open with his feelings around you. He felt like he could tell you anything and all those feelings he had were reciprocated by you. You could tell each other anything about everything, sharing every aspect of your lives with the other. You were like two peas in a pod, attached at the hip whenever he was home. Eventually, the two of you had exchanged keys, mainly so when he was gone on road trips with his team you could bring in his mail so it wouldn’t pile up. He only held on to yours at your insistence.

“It’d be weird if I had your key and you didn’t have mine, Nolan.” You told him when he tried to brush it off. “Just take the damn thing. Just in case, you know?”

Most of the time, you were the one letting yourself into his apartment. You’d send a quick text of “I hope you’re decent, I’m coming over” before all but barging in, filling his usually quiet space with your over the top energy. It would be a lie if Nolan said it didn’t take some getting used to. He was so used to being by himself, him and his video games or music. And though you always told him he could, he really did not need to ever let himself into your apartment when you weren’t there. He wasn’t like you, always bringing him food or buying little trinkets and placing them in random spots in his apartment. He never complained about the meals but always balked at the idea of new decorations you managed to find for him. You insisted that he needed to liven up his space, that it looked too much like a jail cell instead of a place to call home.

“I like my place just fine, ma’am.” He once told you, poking at your latest purchase, a set of succulents. “Besides, I’ll just kill these fucking things anyway.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a spare key.” You countered, placing the plants along the window sill. “I’ll make sure you don’t kill my babies.”

He laughed at your comparison of the plants to children. “Why don’t you just keep them at your place then? Why do they need to take up space in my apartment?”

“Quit arguing with me, Nols.” You scolded him, “Not in front of the kids.”

Conversations like that always ended with him chuckling and shaking his head, all but admitting defeat. He would never say it out loud to anyone, but he actually loved how much you seemed to care about his well being. While he was perfectly capable of doing things for himself, if it made you happy, that was all that mattered to him. There was something about the outgoing and sometimes clumsy girl he met in the elevator that made it all worth it. The mood was always lifted when you showed up and though he would tease you about invading his space or being obnoxious, you both knew he never meant a single word.

There were, however, those rare occasions where Nolan would use your key. It didn’t happen very often but whenever he was going through a particularly rough patch, he found solace in you. It could be about anything, the way a particular game went, how he as an individual player was performing or if he was just having a shitty day. Whatever brought him to the edge emotionally, he knew he could come to you. You always knew when it was coming, too. Instead of a normal greeting when he entered your apartment, you’d hear the door unlock before it opened slowly, Nolan trudging in without saying a word before closing the door behind him and flopping on your couch. He’d exhale loudly, a clear indicator that something was wrong, waiting for you to come sit beside him. 

That’s exactly what happened this time. Just as you finished up an online class, you heard the key in the lock. When you closed your laptop and glanced up at the door, Nolan was there with a sullen look on his face. He went through the normal routine, keeping quiet and not saying anything, just a nod of acknowledgment before sitting on your couch with a heavy sigh. You smiled sadly, placing your laptop back in its case before walking to sit down beside him.

“What’s up, Grumpy McGee?” You teased, taking your place on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. Typically Nolan would huff out a laugh at your eloquent nicknames for him but not this time. When all you got in reply was yet another deep sigh, you leaned back taking in his appearance. His shoulders were slumped more than usual, his posture slouched and head hanging low. He avoided eye contact when you tried to move your head to look him in the eye.

“Nolan?” 

When his eyes finally met yours, you were taken aback by what you found within those ocean-blue depths. You had seen him angry, happy, frustrated; all of the feelings that came with the profession he was in. You had seen just about every emotion in those eyes but this one almost took your breath away. For the first time, when you looked into his eyes, you saw someone who was unsure of themself. Someone who lacked the confidence they so often carried with them, even if it was in a subtle way. 

“Hey,” You murmured, turning your body to face him, “Nolan, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” He mumbled, turning to avoid your gaze once more. “Just had a rough day is all.”

You knew he and the team had been going through a bit of a rough patch. The team had been on a bit of a skid going into the upcoming holiday break. There was one more short road trip before Christmas and you could already tell Nolan was stressing about it. Not just because of the team’s performance, but because of his own personal struggles. The pounding migraines he had been dealing with for the better part of the season had become more frequent, causing him to miss playing in a few games here and there. The way to go about managing the migraines was somewhat of a mystery to team doctors and trainers. While they were doing their best to help Nolan, and he knew they were exhausting every option available, nothing seemed to be working and it seemed that Nolan was finally at his breaking point.

“Are you feeling okay?” You gently ask, your hand running soothingly across his bicep. When he just shrugged his shoulders once more, you gave a light, reassuring squeeze to his arm, smiling softly when his eyes met yours again.

“I feel fine right now,” He sighed, “But these things fucking come out of nowhere. Never know when they’re going to hit me.”

You nodded, wordlessly encouraging him to continue. He needed to vent, you sensed it, needed to let out all of the emotions he was feeling.

“I just…” He trailed off, his fingers running through his hair as he huffed out another breath. “What if this ends my career, (Y/N)? What if these things get so bad I won’t be able to play anymore? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hold on a second,” You scooted up onto your knees, kneeling next to him on the couch. “You are going to be just fine, Nolan.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N),” He bemoaned, “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” You insisted, “I do because the whole organization is on your side. You have some of the best doctors in Philadelphia working with them to help you. They’re going to find something that makes this better for you.”

“But what if they don’t?” His voice increased slightly in volume as he sat up a little straighter, “What if there is nothing they can do for me and this team drops me? What if they see there is no use waiting around for me to get better?” He drags his fingers through his hair before holding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. When he speaks again his voice comes out in a whisper. “What if they give up on me?”

The uncertainty and brokenness in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. Moving closer to him you gently took his face into your hands and turned his head to face you, making him look you in the eye. 

“They will not give up on you, Nolan.” You spoke with gentle firmness. “I just don’t see that happening. You will get better and you will have an amazing career here. And can I tell you something else?”

You could see the desperation in his eyes as he nodded.

“I’m never giving up on you,” You whispered, “That I know for an absolute fact. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He chuckled softly at your remark and you smiled, running one of your thumbs along his skin beneath it. His gaze softened as you continued to hold his face, your thumb still gently caressing his cheekbone. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face but it made your stomach flip, made your heart rate pick up just a little bit. It was a feeling you never felt being this close to Nolan and it startled you. You swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips but before you could process that thought, you dropped your hands to his shoulders, giving them a gentle couple of pats before moving back to your previous spot on the couch. “You want to grab something to eat? We can order in if you want?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He stuttered, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Of course it does,” You teased, giving his shoulder a little nudge as you stood from your spot on the couch. “You never turn down food.”

“Busted.” He gave you a small smile as he watched you make your way into the kitchen. You stood at the counter, pulling out a to-go menu from your favorite restaurant and your phone, dialing the number to place the order. You couldn’t see it but as you talked on the phone, Nolan watched you intently. He watched the way you confidently spoke and how you paced around the kitchen, making small talk with the person who was taking the order. You couldn’t see the way he looked at you with complete adoration or feel the way his heart pounded in his chest when he heard you speak. You couldn’t see the smile that spread across his lips, a smile that only you could bring out of him. You also couldn’t hear the voice in his head beating him up over not pressing his lips to yours as you held his face in your hands. He didn’t understand where the intense urge came from at that moment, but he knew he so desperately wanted to know what your lips felt like against his own. 

“You alright over there, space cadet?” 

Your voice brought him out of a trance when you spoke to him. He blinked in quick succession, seemingly willing his brain to come back to reality before he gave a quick nod. “Yeah, I guess I kind of zoned out there for a second.”

“I’ll say,” You chuckled, returning to your spot on the couch, flopping down beside him. “The food should be here in about thirty minutes or so.”

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the night carried on as usual. You and Nolan finished your meals and fell into your normal routine of tv and conversations about literally anything. You tried to keep things light and fun, attempting to keep Nolan’s mind off of the struggles facing him and his team. The two of you bantered and laughed and carried on as you normally would for the remainder of the evening. Occasionally you found yourself staring a little longer at him as he watched whatever was on, studying the angles of his face in the flickering lights of the tv. You had always thought that his facial features gave him an angelic look, a juxtaposition to how he spoke and how he carried himself. You smiled, hunkering down further into the couch as you got more comfortable and got pulled into the television show. You eventually found yourself dozing off as a random Christmas movie played on the screen. You had laid yourself across the couch, your legs swung across Nolan’s lap. It wasn’t until you felt him gently tap your thigh that you realized you had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” You heard his low voice speak, “(Y/N), I think we should call it a night.”

You stretched as you slowly sat up, a soft groan escaping your lips. “What time is it?”

Nolan looked down at his phone, checking the time before looking back at you as he also stretched. “It’s just past eleven. I should go, got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Right,” You grumbled, “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded and got up to stand in front of you, reaching his hands out for you to take. He gently pulled you up but even still, being the clumsy person you are, you stumbled forward slightly, hands pressing into his chest and his catching you at your waist. You looked up at him and found the same look in his eyes as earlier when he confided in you. That same feeling you had was creeping back in as well and you held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. You quickly averted your eyes and cleared your throat, walking with him to your front door.

“Thank you for tonight, (Y/N).” Nolan leaned against the door frame, half in the outside hallway and half still in your apartment. 

“Anytime.” You grinned, “Always happy to be of service. Someone’s gotta feed you.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “So, uh, I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah? Going to G and Ryanne’s for that party?”

“You know it.” You replied, “Have a safe flight, Nols. Text me when you guys get there.”

“Will do.” He saluted you before pushing off the door frame and turning to cross the hall to his apartment. You watched as he unlocked his door and opened it to head inside for the night. Just before he closed the door behind him, you called out to him.

“Hey, Nolan?” He turned to look at you, a questioning look in his eyes. 

“What’s up?”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against the threshold of your apartment. “I think you’re amazing. You know that, right?”

He leaned his forearm against his door frame and smiled. 

“I think you’re amazing, too.”

You smiled as you closed your door, leaning against it when it latched shut, and took a deep breath. Something in the air felt different and you couldn’t quite explain it. It made you nervous, anxious even, but you also couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. Something felt different between you and Nolan and even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you knew that everything had changed.

~

With the Flyers’ road trip winding down and it going in a way that wasn’t exactly favorable, you knew there was more than likely going to be a bit of a cloud over the holidays. The boys managed to sneak in one win out of the three games played but knowing them like you did, it wasn’t something they were going to tout as a success. You also knew, given your knowledge as to how his mind worked and the existing personal struggles he was facing, that Nolan would be extra critical of himself. He’d try and disguise it, not wanting to put a damper on the upcoming holiday festivities, but you knew him better than that. 

That is how you found yourself in his apartment yet again, only this time decorating it to fit the Christmas theme. You knew it was excessive, you knew it was over the top and ridiculous, but if it would bring any semblance of a smile to that boy’s face it was all worth the complaining he’d undoubtedly do when he walked into his apartment. You had managed to snag some Christmas decorations on the cheap, scouring bargain stores for everything from lights and garland and stockings to even a tree with accompanying ornaments. When you finally deemed your collection enough to decorate with, you let yourself into his apartment and put things in place little by little over the course of the weekend. The guys were slated to be home by early afternoon with the Christmas party at Claude and Ryanne’s later in the evening, allowing everyone a little bit of time to decompress then have a little bit of fun before heading to their respective homes for the holidays. 

Holiday music was filling the apartment, your soundtrack to your latest decorating endeavor. The cheesy gas fireplace in the living room served as the perfect spot to hang some lighted garland and the stockings. Fairy lights adorned every spot in which it was feasible to place them. There were even candles that were purchased, their scent matching the season but ultimately used for the ambiance they provided as well. Decorating the tree was saved until the very last moment. As you danced and sang to the sounds of Andy Williams and Bruce Springsteen, you methodically placed the red and gold ornaments on the tree. You even snuck a small Gritty ornament in the mix, making sure to give a nod to the mascot you knew Nolan loved and adored, hoping he’d find it and smile. As it all came together, you pulled out the last item to place on the tree, it’s topper. You loved how when the little star was placed at the top it felt like the finishing touch to it all, giving finality to all your hard work. You stood back a couple of feet from the tree and looked on in contentment, happy with how the decorations turned out. You chuckled to yourself, knowing that when Nolan walked into the room when he got home he’d instantly know who to blame for Christmas practically exploding in his space.

Admiring the room in its entirety one last time, you smiled once more to yourself, proud of what you were able to accomplish. You knew Nolan would be shocked, and probably bitch and moan about it, but in the end, he’d have a laugh and hopefully feel just a little bit of the holiday spirit. You blew out the candles, their scent lingering in the air, before heading back across the hallway to your apartment. It was nearly lunchtime, meaning you had more than enough time to clean up and get ready for the team Christmas party. You pulled out your phone, seeing you had received a text from Nolan saying he and the boys had just landed and would be back home soon.

You: Happy you guys made it back safely! I’ll be ready for G’s party around 6, that should be enough time for you to nap or whatever, right?

Nolan: Yeah sounds good to me.

The two of you exchanged just a few more texts before he needed to drive home. The extra time before the party allowed you to get a few house chores done before actually beginning to get ready. Not even an hour after your text exchange with him, your phone began to ring, Nolan’s name flashing across the display. You smiled broadly, already anticipating what his reaction to his newly decorated apartment would be.

“You’re supposed to be taking a nap, no?” You tried to hide the giggle threatening to bubble up, knowing exactly why he was calling you.

“Don’t you act like you don’t know exactly why I am calling you, (Y/N).” Nolan’s gravelly voice greeting your ear, “Why the fuck does it look like Christmas threw up in my apartment?”

“You don’t like it?” You feigned shock and hurt, “Come on, Nols, don’t be such a Grinch!”

“Ha, fucking, ha.” Nolan retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Seriously, you’ve outdone yourself. This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Mission accomplished, then!” You cheered, “Now hang up the damn phone and take your nap! We have a party to go to tonight and I expect you to be my date.”

Nolan scoffed. “Oh, with this latest stunt I’m taking away your plus one status.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped, earning a hearty chuckle from Nolan. 

Of course, he never would. It would be like sucking the life out of the party leaving things so much more boring if you weren’t around. Having you at his side to these events and gatherings made it all worthwhile, even if you were just tagging along as his friend. “TK and Hayesy would never let me hear the end of it if I did. And you’d end up bugging me to go all the time anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh now. You know those boys liked to rib Nolan to no end about his relationship with you, asking when he’d ‘wife you up’ or why you spent all your time with a guy like Nolan. It was all in good fun, though. They were never malicious or had any ill will, in fact, they were just the opposite. You two would never know it but the guys on the team, and some of their significant others, were secretly waiting for the day the two of you would get together. Though you and Nolan both insisted your relationship was no more than a friendship, your friends were not convinced in the slightest. You’d both just shrug off the comments and jokes, nothing ever really bothering either of you. 

“Well, you can’t disappoint them then!” You teased, “Now seriously, get some beauty rest and pick me up at six.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He replied through his laughter.

“See you in a little bit, Nols.”

You said your goodbyes and continued with your day, doing the various chores you set out to finish and allowing yourself more than the usual time it took for you to get ready. After showering and picking out an outfit, something festive but not over the top, you sat at your vanity with your makeup spread out in front of you. You took your time, playing yet another Christmas playlist to help set the mood for the get together you’d be attending. Something about the music and festivities put you in a wonderful mood and made you even more excited to see everyone before they all headed back to their respective homes for the holidays. 

As you were putting on your earrings, the finishing touch to your look, your phone buzzed on the countertop as a text came through. You glanced down and saw that it was from Nolan, asking if you were finished getting ready.

Nolan: Your Uber is waiting for you outside the door.

You: Ew, that’s creepy. I didn’t think they did that. 

Nolan: Kidding of course. Can I come in?

You: As long as you aren’t the creepy Uber driver.

You smiled to yourself as you sprayed the last bit of hairspray in your hair and looked over your appearance once more. Satisfied with the finished look, you grabbed your purse and walked into your living room, just in time to see the front door open and for Nolan to walk through.

“Creepy Uber driver has arrived.” He called out as he shut the door behind him. At first, he didn’t notice you had walked into the living room, speaking louder than he normally would, but then his eyes landed on you and they seemed to widen as he took in your appearance. “Wow, (Y/N)..you look..”

“Do you think this is okay?” You asked, “I know they said casual but I didn’t want to just show up in what I normally wear so I-”

“Hey, you look great,” Nolan assured you, “I mean, I thought you’d be wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters given how you decorated my apartment so this is a nice surprise.”

You playfully smacked him in the chest before linking your arm with his. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

The drive to the Giroux household was nothing short of typical for the two of you. There was the usual chirping from you about how Nolan was driving and the incessant moaning and groaning from him about the music you chose to play.

“Any time you’re on the AUX cord, no good music is played.” He complained, attempting and failing to take the cord from you as he drove.

“Nolan, we are on our way to a fucking Christmas party,” You said, “It would be sacrilege if we didn’t play any Christmas music! Now focus on driving before you kill us.”

He shook his head in defeat, chuckling softly at the small little victory dance you did in your seat as you played your music. Every now and then he’d steal a glance at you, watching as you happily sang and danced to every song that played. He’d never admit how much he actually enjoyed the cheesy holiday music, mostly because of the joy it brought you. Everything that made you happy made him happy. Seeing you smile made him smile. Every little thing you did for him, no matter how much he may have complained about it outwardly, made him feel like he was on top of the world. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, thinking these thoughts, feeling these feelings at this very moment made him come to a not so shocking realization. 

He was madly in love with you. He was so head over heels for you and it took his breath away. 

He took a deep breath, one that caused his chest and shoulders to rise and fall dramatically and you took notice. As he pulled the car into the drive, you raised an eyebrow at him and cocked your head to the side.

“You alright over there?”

He shifted the car into park and offered you a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You gave him a beaming smile, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car and head inside. “Come on, Mr. Grinch, let’s go see everyone.”

He watched as you climbed out of the passenger seat, shutting the door behind you, and walking up to the front door of the Giroux’s home. When he saw you turn to see if he was going to follow, mouthing a ‘Come on!’ as you waved, he sighed once more, climbing out of the car himself. That big, wide grin was still plastered on your face as he walked up beside you, you linking your arm with his once again. Looking down at you, seeing how excited you were as the two of you walked up to the door only solidified his earlier thoughts. He knew in this very moment that everything between you had changed.

~

The evening carried on at a relaxed pace, Claude and Ryanne being the wonderful hosts they always were. The guys with families brought their children along and the entire night was filled with plenty of laughs and entertainment. You always found yourself gravitating to the kiddos when they were involved. That’s how Nolan caught up with you after the two of you were separated for a little while. You were sitting and chatting with Ryanne, bouncing a happy little Gavin on your knee.

“How is it that you always manage to end up with the kids?” He asked you as he came to stand beside you. His finger lightly poked at Gavin’s belly making the toddler giggle excitedly. “What’s up, little man?”

You smiled up at him and bounced your knee, continuing Gavin’s giggles. “I can’t help it. He’s the cutest guy in the room.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” He replied, “Thanks for hosting all of us, Ryanne. It’s been fun, as always.”

“Oh, of course!” Ryanne smiled, “It’s a blast, we love having everyone here.”

Nolan turned back to you as he spoke again. “I was going to get something to drink, did you want me to grab you anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” You looked back at the giggling toddler still in your lap. “I just need a few more Gavin cuddles and I should be ready to go soon if you are.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, “I’ll meet up with you in a little bit then, yeah?”

He gave your shoulder a light squeeze before making his way to the kitchen, seemingly making small talk with Kevin.

“He’s got it bad for you, girl.” Ryanne gushed when Nolan was out of earshot.

You felt your cheeks warm, butterflies running rampant in your tummy before brushing her comment aside. “You’re crazy. We’re just friends, Ry.”

“And I think you are lying to yourself.” She countered, “He’s a good guy, (Y/N).”

“I know that,” You agreed, “He’s my best friend, of course I know that.”

Ryanne just smiled, that ‘If you say so’ kind of look that she gives you every time this subject comes up. She, just like all your other friends, never pushed the envelope with you. She respected your boundaries but she was always one of your biggest cheerleaders. She was like how Claude was for his team except in her place in the WAGs group, really in the whole friends group entirely; the momma of the group. She would have your back no matter what and support you with no questions asked. 

“So tell me about how he reacted to your Christmas decorations.” She said, changing the subject, “Did he freak out over it?”

“Oh, god, it was hysterical.”

You indulged Ryanne in all the details of your decorating assault on Nolan’s apartment, telling her about how you almost lost your invitation to the evening’s festivities. The laughter you two shared echoed through the living room and into the kitchen, Nolan of course taking notice of your laughter specifically. He was leaning against the island that overlooked the living room, smiling at how much fun you seemed to be having in telling whatever story you were to Ryanne. He felt a pair of hands land heavily on his shoulders, a hard squeeze being given to both, before that all too familiar Boston accent filled his ears.

“Buddy, come on.” Kevin chuckled, “You have got to say something to that girl.”

Nolan turned to face his friend who had leaned on the island beside him. He attempted to give Kevin a nonchalant, playing it cool response and shrugged his shoulders. “What are you talking about? Tell her what?”

 “Don’t give me that shit, kid.” Kevin told him, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Nolan sighed, one of his hands coming up to run down his face. There was really no point in trying to play it off anymore. Of everyone in this house, aside from Ryanne, Kevin knew exactly how Nolan felt about you. Though unlike Ryanne, Kevin wasn’t going to play games with Nolan. He had sat back for too long watching the both of you deny, deny, deny and he was ready to at least call Nolan on his bullshit.

“What, no smart ass comeback this time?” Kevin chuckled when Nolan didn’t respond. As he watched him for a second longer, he knew Nolan had recognized his own feelings. “Oh, shit, you do have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised.” Nolan retorted.

“I’m not surprised you have feelings for her, bud.” Kevin clarified, “I’m surprised you’ve finally admitted it. Took ya long enough!”

Again, Nolan sighed, this time in annoyance. “Well, keep it down, you big idiot. I don’t need to spring any surprises on her like this.”

Kevin just laughed, taking a swig of the beer he was nursing. He watched as Nolan turned his attention back to where you were still chatting with Ryanne. He could tell just by the way Nolan was looking at you that he had it bad, just like Ryanne had told you earlier. One of his hands came up to Nolan’s shoulder once more, gaining his attention once more.

“Can I tell you something without you getting defensive on me?”

Nolan raised an eyebrow. “That depends on what comes out of your mouth.”

“Fair enough,” Kevin chuckled, “In all seriousness though, Patty, that girl loves you too. I’m just sayin’.”

“How do you know that?” Nolan scoffed, “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kevin grinned, taking another sip of his beer. “But I have a feeling that if you told her how you felt, I’d be right.”

Nolan looked back at you once more just as you were finishing your conversation with Ryanne. You caught his eye and smiled that big, beautiful smile he loved so much as you stood to walk over to him. Kevin gave him one last pat on the back as you made your way to where they were standing.

“Ready to go, Nols?” You asked, tucking into his side.

He nodded, turning back to Kevin to give him the handshake-hug hybrid thing that men like to do. 

“Remember what I said,” Kevin told him before turning to you and pulling you into a hug. “Have a good night, sweetheart. Don’t let this guy give you any trouble.”

“I know who to come running to if he does,” You laughed, “See you around, Kev.”

You and Nolan said goodbye to the remaining partygoers before heading back out to his car. Per your usual, you snagged the auxiliary cord before Nolan could reach for it, expecting a fight out of him like always. When he did nothing but chuckle at your antics you got your first clue that something was going on in his head. You let it go, however, chalking it up to you just reading too far into his actions. But when the car ride back to your shared complex was quieter than normal, no words being exchanged between the two of you, you knew for sure something was up. You turned the volume on the car stereo down and turned in your seat as best you could to look at him.

“You okay, Nolan?” 

He glanced over at you, still trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Yeah, I’m good. Why what’s up?”

“You’re just quieter than normal,” You replied, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired is all,” He mumbled, reaching across the console and taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze, “I’m good though.”

He didn’t let go of your hand. Even after he stopped talking he didn’t let go of your hand. You tried not to outwardly show how you were feeling on the inside. Your heart rate jumped, feeling like it was beating rapidly in your throat. You felt your face get hot and you were thankful that it was dark out, only street lights illuminating your face as Nolan drove. You tried to calm yourself as Nolan pulled the car back into his usual spot back at the complex parking garage. The two of you walked into your building, your hand still burning from his touch. The silence between you two remained but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could understand why Nolan would be tired, having flown back home and attending a Christmas party all in the same day. As you went to pull out your keys, Nolan stopped you, nodding toward his apartment door.

“You want to come in for a little bit?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Y-yeah,” You stammered, not sure where the sudden nervous energy was coming from, “Sure. That should be fine.”

He gave you a small smile before unlocking his door, letting you walk in first before closing the door behind him. You took off your shoes, leaving them by the front door, and removed your coat and scarf, draping them over one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. The only light in the apartment was that of the lights you used to decorate with. When Nolan went to turn on one of the lamps you stopped him.

“This is the best way to enjoy the Christmas lights,” You told him, “Come look at the tree with me, please?”

Nolan gave you a small nod and came to stand beside you. The lights gave off a soft, warm white glow and you smiled as you admired your handiwork. “Did you notice that I hid Gritty in there?”

You heard Nolan chuckle softly before replying. “Yeah, I did. He really makes the tree.”

You giggled, nudging his hip with your own. He smiled back at you, watching as you continued to look over the tree. He knew you were proud of the work you had done and that warmed his heart. He also couldn’t help looking at how beautiful your face looked lit up by nothing but the soft glow of Christmas lights. His gaze lingered for a while and when you felt it, you turned so your body was facing him, giving a puzzled look.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just…” He shook his head, looking down at the ground before his eyes met yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You questioned, your head cocking slightly. 

“For everything.” He murmured, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “For being my friend, taking care of me. For being you.”

“Nolan, you don’t have to thank me…” 

“I know,” He insisted, the hand that came up to your face lingering just a little longer, not yet dropping back to his side. “I know I don’t but I want to.”

“Nolan…” 

“I also want to do one more thing.”

Before you could even process a response, he was stepping closer to you and his other hand joined the first in cupping your cheeks and tilting your head upward, his lips pressing to yours in a gentle but sure kiss. You gasped softly, your eyes a small noise of surprise escaping you and your hands clasped around his wrists. His kiss was soft, gentle enough to not scare you away but it wasn’t tentative. You knew without a doubt that this was something Nolan was sure of and with just a second’s hesitation as you regained your bearings, you kissed him back, and as you did so Nolan sighed into the kiss, relief flooding him. Your eyes fluttered shut, throwing yourself into the moment. You kissed him back with the same gentle urgency, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours when you felt it trace your bottom lip. You don’t know how long the two of you kissed. Eventually, the urgency calmed and you fell into slow, languid movements until you both needed to come up for air. Your eyes remained closed for a moment longer as you felt Nolan’s forehead rest gently on yours. When you opened them once more, you were met with the ocean blue eyes that, though at the time you hadn’t realized it, you fell in love with the moment you saw them. Your hands were still clasped around his wrists, thumbs brushing the tops of his hands as you smiled up at him before he broke the silence first.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” 

You giggled softly, letting go of his wrists and pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could wrap your arms around his neck. “That was nice.”

Nolan chuckled, his hands dropping to your waist. “I’ve had feelings for you I think from the start.”

“Oh is that what that means?” You teased, giving his nose a quick peck. “I thought it was just a ‘thank you for decorating my apartment, (Y/N)’.”

He gently squeezed your sides, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. That soft smile of his graced his face once more before he spoke again. “I’m serious. I think that maybe… I think I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

“You love me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” He replied, his hand rubbing your sides, “Yeah, I love you.”

You grinned from ear to ear, Nolan’s smile almost matching yours before you pushed your lips to his again, loving how they felt on your own. You were nearly breathless when you pulled away again, speaking in a hushed tone. “Good, because this would have been so fucking weird if this was just your way of saying thank you.”

Nolan quirked an eyebrow, his little smirk spreading across his lips. “So it’s not weird?”

“No, you idiot,” You giggled, “Because I love you, too.”

He pulled you into one more kiss, this one just as slow and gentle as the very first. You couldn’t describe the happiness that was flowing through your veins, but you did know one thing. It was there, in the ridiculously decorated living room of his apartment, beneath the warm glow of Christmas lights, that everything had changed.

[me1ancho1y-b1iss]

Her Robin and His Little Ladybug Ch. 2

 Ao3                  Chapter 1          Chapter 2 

As soon as Marinette spoke it set off absolute chaos, everyone started talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers from the small girl. Eventually Bruce, now as Batman, spoke up. 

“ENOUGH.”  Bruce demanded of everyone in the room. 

Silence was all that remained where if a pin was dropped it could be heard. Both parties, Marinette and the bats stared at each other, until Bruce finally spoke again. 

“Who are you?” he asked Marinette. 

“I believe I asked a question first” Marinette smarted back. Jason snorted as Damian glared at her. 

“Answer our questions harlot.” Damian spoke as he glared at her. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” 

Dick or rather Nightwing now, spoke next. “Come on baby bird, be nice, we don't know her and she doesn’t look like she knows us.” 

“That’s exactly the point Grayson! We don’t know her, or how she appeared in the cave!” Damian grimaced as he glanced back at Dick. 

“Codenames, baby bird.” Dick muttered 

Hi! I’m Nightwing! OMG, you're so cute and tiny! You're in the batcave, this is Robin, that's Red Hood, over there is Red Robin, standing there with the death glare is Batman, and finally sitting at the batcomputer in the wheelchair is Oracle!”  

“Uhh… Hi.” Marinette waved. Dick visibly cooed at her while the rest of the bats just stood there. 

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m from Paris, France.” She said as if that would answer all their  questions. 

Realization spread on Bruce's face as he realized what happened. He realized that this must be the work of the Akumas the league was investigating. 

“You said you’re from Paris, correct? Batman asked Marinette. At her nod he continued. “So this must be the work of an Akuma” 

Marinette nodded. “The last thing I heard before I was transported here was a loud voice yelling, that people should treasure their relationships and that people should be able to have soulmates… or something like that, I don't really know, I wasn’t really paying attention as I was suddenly transported here with no warning.” she muttered the last part under breath but the bats still heard her. 

After around five seconds of total silence, Jason started cackling loudly. “You, tiny little pixie is apparently Demon Spawn’s soulmate. Yeah, I doubt that…” Jason spoke, and started laughing again. 

After Jason said that, all of the rest of the bats realized what she said and started snickering, except for Bruce and Damian, who just stood in front of Marinette with his mouth wide open gaping at her. 

Dick asked a question next. “Wait, what’s an Akuma, and if it's powerful enough to actually locate someone’s soulmate and send them here, Why doesn’t the league know about this? Dick asked, looking back at Bruce. 

“The league is aware of the situation. It’s on a need to know basis, and only certain members are aware. Wonder Women, Superman, Aqua Man and myself are the ones aware as the situation is extremely delicate and dangerous. 

Paris has their own heros, that have been handling the situation extremely well and there has been no need to interfere. Wonder Woman has gone out and has spoken to the heroes. They are aware that if they need any help that can contact the justice league and we will send out a member to help aid them.” 

When Bruce was done speaking, the rest of the bats were sort of shocked they weren’t aware of anything happening Paris this year or any year at all. 

Barbara immediately put it into the Batcomputer and pulled up one of Marinette’s old fights. As Marinette watched the fight with the rest of the bat’s, she cringed. She remembered the fight, perhaps she remembered it too well. It was her third battle with Evillustrator. Nathaniel managed to remember that he could draw whatever he wanted. 

He turned all of Paris into a war zone. He managed to draw himself an all powerful army with a stock supply of weapons. The battle lasted almost a full day and was one of the most lethal with over 1 million dead. The second deadliest behind Syren. 

As the video ended all the people in the room turned to marinette with a shocked look on their faces. 

Dick was the first to speak. “You deal with this all the time?” he whispered in a scared tone 

“Usually they’re not that bad. That was the second deadliest attack Paris ever had, the first being Syren. All of the effects of the damage is reversed by the ‘miraculous ladybug,’ Ladybug, the main hero announces that after she broke the object where the akuma was hidden. As soon as she throws up her ‘lucky charm’ and says that phrase all damage from the attack gets reversed.” 

“What a Lucky charm? You said it helps clear all the damage, so what does it do?” Tim spoke next. 

Marinette nodded as she said, “ The Lucky Charm is something that Ladybug calls on during the battle. It’s usually just a seemingly random object, but as soon as she calls on it the battle usually doesn’t last any longer than three minutes.” 

“What are the other heroes' powers?” Tim asked again. 

“Chat Noir has the power of destruction, just as ladybug has the power of creation. All Chat Noir has to do is simply say ‘cataclysm’ and he's able to destroy anything he touches.” 

Again all the bats, except for Batman himself, started at Marinette, with wide eyes. 

“How old are the heroes’ because to me they don’t look to be any older than the demon spawn’s age. Also how long has this been going on? Jason asked of Marinette, in a demanding tone. 

“All anyone can do is speculate the ages, due to the magic, but many say they have to be around 18 - 20 years old.” Marinette said in a rather confident voice

“And how long has this been happening?” Jason asked again in a tone that made Marinette take an unconscious step back. 

“A-about four years.” Marinette said, with her voice trembling a little bit. 

“So the heroes would have been about 13- 15 give or take when they first started given the assumptions are correct…?” 

At her nod, Jason started pacing back and forth yelling, “FUCKING HELL, what the fuck they’re kids, they were babies when they started and they have to deal with the saving the fucking world every fucking week. I admit I was young too when I started, but it was my own choice and I got FUCKING killed for it!” 

‘That’s why he has such a tainted soul, it absolutely reeks of destruction and creation magic, I’ll have to talk to Tikki later to see if we can get rid of it’ Marinette thought wisely. 

“B, why in the everloving hell did you let fucking kids fight in a goddamn war alone?!” Jason yelled at Bruce while still pacing the floor of the batcave. 

“Hood, they are only one able to fight in these battle, no matter what we do, we would not be able to fight, the best we do is investigate the villain. 

Hawkmoth, the super terrorist, is the one creating the akamus. We find him, we stop the akumas.”

“You mean we just sit here while these kids are out fighting and there’s absolutely nothing we can do?” Tim spoke up, finally finding the courage to speak. 

Batman simply shook his head.

A/N: ok, so like I have five chapters of this posted on ao3 if you want to read it there, (im taking a minute to post it on tumblr bc im lazy. ok) Also I swear I’m working on chapter 6, i'm just stuck on a particular scene and its taking a minute to figure out how I want to transition. on a side note this fic is honestly just something that my brain decided it would be a good idea to write at 2am so like don't expect too much.  (sorry for the rant)

Taglist: (people asked in the last chapter to add them, so if you want to be added just ask. I probably wont respond, maybe, but I will definitely add you) 

@alyssadeliv @yannowhatigiveup @sekhmet5

[weebswrites]

The Demon Bros: Their Dark Side (combining these two asks because they have very similar energy^^)

- if anyone is interested I can write a part 2 to this where MC and the demons reconcile hehe -

Lucifer (TW: attempted physical assault (not sexual))

He’s the avatar of pride, so the event that causes him to snap is when you accidentally tell the bros about how the two of you like to unwind (rated pg)

You didn’t think it’d be a big deal, they’ve been brothers for how many thousands of years?

But Lucifer erupts, suddenly in demon form

He stands over you, roaring his hand back as if he were going to slap you

Beel stands up and intercepts Lucifer’s hand, grabbing his wrist with all his strength and saving you

You wince, falling back a bit into Asmo’s arms, and he hugs you close

“MC!!!” he yells, rage obvious in his voice

“Asmo…what did I do…” you whisper, voice quivering in fear as the love of your life just snapped and almost hit you

“I think he wanted that to stay private, he doesn’t like us to know that he relaxes…” he whispers, “Don’t feel guilty, he shouldn’t be reacting like this”

“Lucifer…” you say, standing a bit straighter and looking into his dark red eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know”

“You should have!” his voice booms, anger not subsiding at all

You look at him, eyes full of confusion and regret. You plead for him to calm down, to talk to you rationally and listen to your apologies

He growls, “The rest of you, out!” he yells, and they obey instantly. Asmo squeezing his shoulders around you quickly and Beel giving you a small smile before leaving

You ramble on for as long as he lets you about how you’re sorry and you didn’t mean to upset him

After a few minutes he cuts you off, “You didn’t upset me, you betrayed me”

His voice was cold, and without hesitation he turns and leaves the room

Mammon

You didn’t think Mammon, the avatar of Greed, would get mad about anything. You’d never heard stories about him turning into demon form, so you assumed it basically never happened

That is, until you take Levi’s side and scold him for taking more of his games and selling them

“I thought you were supposed to take my side no matter what!” he yells, two bat-like wings appearing before you

Your face gets red, and you take a step back, “Mammon…” you whisper, completely in shock

“What? You’re actually surprised that I’m pissed off right now? Humans really are idiots!”

You take a small step behind Levi, and he puts his arm in front of you, a bit of a shield from Mammon

“Mammon, calm down. They’re right and you know it, you just let your greed override your sense sometimes. Listen to your partner, they’re trying to help you” Levi defends you

“Yeah, Mammon, please. I don’t mean to insult you, I just don’t like seeing you always hurting others and stealing their things just to get money”

“I’m the avatar of greed, damnit! What do you expect?! You knew that before you started dating me, you can’t act like this now just because we’re dating”

“Mammon, I just want what’s best for you. There are better ways to get money than backstabbing your family!”

You’re definitely a bit afraid, but you’re not going to let him walk all over you

You bicker back and forth, arguing in circles before he storms off to his room, slamming and locking the door behind him

Leviathan

You’ve been hanging out with a new friend more and more, and he gets envious

You reassure him that he’s just a partner that you got assigned for a class, nothing more, but Levi can’t help but be jealous that its not him

Until one night when he asks if you can binge the new anime that came out, and you tell him that you have to meet with him to work on your project

“Why!! Why are you constantly with him, talking and laughing and working and everything!” he screams, voice cracking with emotion as he transforms into demon form

“Levi, I’ve told you it isn’t like that! The professor assigned us together, I didn’t even know him before this!” you defend yourself, exasperated with your boyfriend’s jealousy

“I don’t care!! You need to make time for me instead of him! He’s probably funnier than me, and he’s obviously handsomer than I am, you’re probably ashamed of always being seen with me so you’re trying to be with him more!”

“Levi, please. You know I love you and only you” you say, voice half caring and half irritated

“Yeah, right! See if I care, go be with your real boyfriend then, see if I care” he says, crossing his arms and exhaling aggressively

“Levi, no. I can reschedule if this is going to be a problem tonight, but he’s my partner. We have an assignment to do”

“No, go. I’ll watch the new season on my own. You probably don’t even like anime, you liar!”

“Levi!! Please, love, you know that isn’t true”

“I can’t trust you, not after this. Just go, have fun with your real boyfriend” he sneers, turning his back to you

“Fine!” you snap back, leaving his room and slamming the door behind you

Satan (18+ language)

You’re chatting about a book that’s supposed to be released sometime this year

“I heard that the ending is super cliche, the main character was unconscious the whole time or something overused like that”

“You what?!” he exclaims, transforming into demon form

“Fuck…Satan…I forgot…” you whisper, stepping a bit back as you remember how each brother took time to tell you to avoid spoilers at all. costs. with satan

“You sure as hell did!! I can’t believe you!!” he screams, running a hand through his hair in anger

“It’s probably not even true…I doubt the author would do something like that” you mutter, trying to save yourself from his wrath

“I don’t care!! There’s the chance now that that’s how it’s going to end, you know how my head works, now that’s all I’ll be able to think about while I’m reading!! Damn it!!”

He’s pacing back and forth, heat radiating off his body as he tries to control his anger

“I can’t forgive you for this” he states, voice cold

“Satan…” you whisper, stepping towards him a (tiny) bit

“Get away from me…” he scoffs

“Satan, please…I’m so sorry” you plead with him, desperate for him to forgive you, “I know how badly I messed up, I know. I would do anything to undo it, or to make you feel better. Please just forgive me”

“Anything, huh?” he retorts, smirking at you

“Yes, anything, please” you say, resisting the urge to step towards him again

“Then leave. Get out, I don’t want to look at you right now”

You feel your heart break and sink in your chest. Tears well in your eyes, but Satan stays silent, eyes unwavering at your emotions

You leave, walking slowly to your room, tears rolling down your cheeks

Asmodeus (drinking mentions)

You’re out one night at a club, dancing together and drinking (just to loosen up, not to get wasted)

You go to the bar to refill your drinks, and let a stranger hit on you, flirting back a bit until he offers to buy you a drink

You let him, because hey, a free drink is a free drink, and it’s not like Asmo hadn’t done the same thing before

Suddenly you feel a tight hand on your shoulder and you’re ripped away from the demon

Asmo drags you outside the bar, to an isolated spot beside the building

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?? Are you cheating on me??” he explodes, putting his hand against the building behind you, trapping you beneath him

“Asmo, I was just getting him to buy me a drink, I don’t even know who he is” you explain, “Why are you in demon form? It’s not like you haven’t done the same thing, you have no place to be mad”

“Excuse me?! I’m the avatar of lust, I can’t help myself from flirting with everyone, you have no excuse!” he yells, gritting his teeth

You go back and forth, him angry at you for flirting with someone else, him enraged at you for thinking he can control his urges

“Asmo, I’m always understanding of when you flirt with others, because I know it’s hard for you to control yourself. It hurts me to watch you do that, but I let you do it. I bite my tongue. I do that for you every time we go out, you should be able to let me do what you do every time at least once”

“I don’t care, I don’t want you flirting with other demons. Now let’s go, you’ve ruined the night and I want to go home”

Beelzebub

You’re snacking in the kitchen on some of his leftovers, scrolling through your D.D.D.

He walks in, “MC…”

You look up, instantly freezing when you see the anger in his eyes

“Beel…”

He erupts, “You’re eating my food!! How could you!!”

You drop it, “Beel, I’m so sorry, I thought it was okay…”

“Why, because we’re dating? That means nothing when it comes to food!”

His words hit deep in your heart, and you feel tears start to well in your eyes

All you can do is quietly apologize

“Damnit!” he yells, slamming his fist on the table hard, but not hard enough to break it

“I’ve made it so clear not to eat my food! Ever! Under any circumstances! And no one ever does!! What makes you think you’re special?”

“Beel…” your voice is quiet, “I mean…yes. I love you, Beel, I thought it would be okay…I’m sorry”

“It isn’t okay!! I’ve been looking forward to this all day and you ruined it…” he ranted, “Whatever, I’m leaving”

“Beel, no, please. Let me make it up to you” you say, getting up and chasing him out of the kitchen

But he doesn’t stop, he storms off and locks you out of his room

He’d never snapped at you before, much less turned to demon form because of something you’d done. There had been plenty of stories about Lucifer and Satan turning to demon form, and some of the other demons, but never any of Beel

You didn’t know what to do

Belphegor

He’d been sleeping more than usual, and you missed him

You knock on his door, eventually letting yourself in when he didn’t answer

“Belphie…Belphie…wake up” you whisper

He slowly wakes up, “MC…what…is everything okay?”

You reassure him that everything is okay, and that you just wanted to spend some time with him

He rubs his eyes and shakes his head a bit

Suddenly, he’s in demon form, and you have no idea what is happening

“You woke me up for that?? Because you want to spend time with me?? Ugh!!!” he yells

“Belphie…” you whisper, stepping back towards the door

“You know how much I need sleep, why would you wake me up for something as unimportant as you wanting to spend time with me!”

He’s steaming, “And don’t call me Belphie!”

You start shaking a bit, “B-Bel…Belphegor…” you whisper, feeling hurt and betrayed

“Leave!! I don’t want to spend time with the person that disturbed me!” he yells, walking towards you quickly

You flinched as he approached, not sure what he was going to do, but he just opened his door and shoved you out

He locks the door behind you, the click of the lock causing your heart to sink a bit

You place the palm of your hand against his door, “I’m sorry…” you whisper, sinking to your knees

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

A/N: This got a bit general angsty, so I hope it’s okay! Thanks for the request, anon :) My inbox is open for anyone who wants to request! You can send in more than one per person, about any of the fandoms found in my post here. Love you guys <3

[slightlymore]

Haechan + Coming home + angst with a fluffy ending 👉🏻👈🏻 - 🍓

haechan; angst + fluff 

2.6K

[w: swearing, brief mention of alcohol, kisses]

[jeno, jaemin: side characters]

A stupid drinking game.

Haechan has asked himself before if things could have went differently if he didn't do everything he has done.

Not that it mattered.

Haechan had no chance with you whatsoever, he knew it. Because everytime he would look at you, your eyes would be on someone else.

He hated it.

He despised it with his whole being. His guts would twists on each other and he would feel sick to the core.

Yet, a weird sensation of pride or insanity, made him want to act like nothing was happening, like it was okay.

"Okay, my turn," Haechan sat up from the ground putting his weight on his knees instead, his mischievous smile painting his expression and raising the others expectations. "Take a shot if you have a crush on someone in this room."

Haechan had no idea what he was doing. He definitely didn't want to take a shot and he didn't. Nor did anyone else.

"Fuck, okay, here." You spoke up after a moment of uncertainty and threw your head back with the glass on your lips. A choir of screams engulfed the whole room and you felt your cheeks heat up from the adrenaline and alcohol.

You've had a crush on someone in the room and perhaps you were just good at pretending or he was clueless.

Perhaps he was actually clueless because he looked around just like everyone else, excited to see who the crush might be. Then everyone's eyes landed on Jeno and Jeno looked at you shocked.

Haechan couldn't look anymore.

"Jeno. You didn't drink, did you?" Haechan asked.

Jeno opened his lips embarrassed and you shot Haechan an assassin glare.

"Uhm, no, I'm sorry, Y/N, but I-" Jeno started to mumble and you couldn't bear to hear the rest. You got up and exited the room.

---

"I don't want to talk to you anymore. Get out."

Haechan's forehead was resting on your closed bedroom door after everyone left, pupils moving under his lids, jaw muscle clenched imitating his fists.

"Please," he whispered for the nth time that night.

And when you opened the door suddenly he almost fell to the ground.

"Why?" you asked, arms crossed on your chest and angry eyes.

Haechan raised his face to meet your tears-streaked one.

He hated it. He hated to see you like that. And it was his fault.

"Why did you do that, Haechan?"

"Y/N," he tried to hold your hand but you winced.

"Don't touch me. You wanted to see me rejected in front of everyone? Is this what you wanted?"

"I didn't think it through. I was just tired to see you crushing on him when he doesn't even think about you."

You lower lip trembled at his words as a new wave of tears filled your eyes.

"That's my business," you wanted to sound aggressive but the words came out so tiny that you wondered if Haechan actually heard them.

It wasn't anger. Haechan could deal with that. It was a deep disappointment. He could see it in your eyes. A defeat he didn't expect.

He fucked up and there was no going back.

---

In the mornings when the winter sun was not out yet, you could see his face on your closed lids. With a huff you would open them up and kick your blanket.

You shouldn't allow yourself to think about him.

Yet, when the phone screen would lit up, your hand would reach for it almost instantly.

From Jeno: I'm going home now

From You: this late? are you drunk?

From Jeno: haha you mean this early? I'm not drunk, I'm the one driving

From You: be careful

From Jeno: yes ma'am :)

You rolled your eyes, a little smile curving your lips before it could fade away. A sigh and the dark ceiling to keep you company.

You missed him.

You missed Haechan so much it hurt.

---

"So?" a pair of wiggling eyebrows and an elbow in your ribs claimed your attention as you were decorating the table for the Christmas dinner.

"What?" you asked Jaemin.

"You and Jeno?" he indicated said boy with his head trying to not be noticed.

Your hands stopped from folding the napkins and you stared at Jeno's profile, laughing with your friends on the couches.

Jaemin continued to place the cutlery in silence.

"There's nothing going on between Jeno and I," you finally spoke resuming your work.

"He likes you. And you like him."

You didn't add anything.

Jaemin looked at you and hummed at your expression.

"You don't like him anymore?"

You sighed.

"Sorry, don't answer. I'm being invasive. I just don't understand. You would look so good together..." Jaemin mumbled to himself.

"Yeah. I don't know what's going on with me."

But you did know what was going on. It's just that you had no idea what to do with all of that.

"How's Haechan?"

The others kept in touch with him after you drifted apart and you had to stop yourself from asking every second of his whereabouts.

"He's alright. A little weird," Jaemin shrugged.

"How's that?"

The boy looked up pensive. "Hm. I can't put my finger on it but he's a little off. I think he misses hanging out with you."

You gulped.

"I mean, like, all of us together, you know? Like the old times."

"Yeah."

"Maybe," Jaemin talked slowly as if choosing his words carefully. "Maybe we can start doing that again? I mean, Jeno likes you now so... you know, not that what Haechan did is gone etcetera but... what he did is the reason Jeno realized he likes you so..." you listened to Jaemin stutter quickly until you couldn't hear him anymore. The sound drifted away as you imagined seeing Haechan again and it became difficult for you to breathe.

---

From You: Merry Christmas

Your fingers were trembling as you typed and they continued to tremble as they hovered over the phone screen, its light the only source illuminating your face in the dark room. Then it became pitch black as you turned it off and let the phone fall on the bed. After a few steps you were already in front of the door, your feet taking you to the noise coming from the living room.

But then you heard it buzz and you froze in place. Your heart was beating like crazy when you came back and picked up the phone, a text message illuminating the screen again.

From Haechan: Merry Christmas

From Haechan: I hope you're well

You had to sit down.

From You: I am, thank you

From You: I hope you're well too

From Haechan: I am

From Haechan: I just...

From Haechan: I miss you

You stared at your phone until it became all blurry. Blinking fast you saw the drops fall on the chat as you stared at the empty typing bar.

Why were you doing that? What was stopping you from talking to him again? Anger? You weren't mad. Disappointment? You were over it. Resentfulness? You couldn't feel any of that inside of your heart.

It was fear.

You were afraid. So so afraid.

You had a little hope. That you would see Haechan again and become friends just like before. But you needed time. Not to get over what he did.

To get over your feelings for him.

Wouldn't he drift away even further if he discovered how you felt? Wouldn't he say how sorry he is?

You thought that Jeno's rejection was a lot to handle but it wasn't anything compared to the pain in your chest at the mere thought of Haechan doing the same.

You breathed in and out slowly. Haechan was typing and deleting.

From You: I'm coming

From Haechan: where?

From You: are you home?

From Haechan: yes but don't come out, it's snowing a lot

From You: see you in 15

From Haechan: y/n

From Haechan: don't go out

From Haechan: y/n

From Haechan: read my texts!

But you were already in the living room, walking quickly towards the entrance door, ignoring Jaemin standing with his casserole in his hands, and ignoring the voices of people asking you what were you doing and where were you going.

In a heartbeat your coat was on and your shoes were on your feet. You didn't mean to slam the door but in the hurry you didn't care about it at all.

With no transport and empty roads you ran. You ran on the fresh snow, the only sounds being its crunch under your soles, your quick breath and the ringing of your phone.

You heard his voice before you could see his face in the heavy snow. You blinked trying to see better and there he was, a tall figure walking towards you, his coat almost white, just like his fluffy hair and eyelashes, one arm up trying to call you and the most worried expression you've ever seen him wear.

"You're crazy! A crazy person!" he scolded you, getting each step closer and you choked on tears upon seeing his face in so long. So you ran again, opening your arms and wrapping his body between them with such force that he almost slipped backwards.

"You don't even have a scarf on. Look at you with your whole neck out. What were you thinking?"

He continued his rant as his arms wrapped your shoulders but you could hear his relieved sigh as he briefly pressed his face on them.

Then he pulled you away from his chest and finally looked at you in the face. His eyes scrutinized your features and his expression softened.

"Why are you crying?"

He cupped both of your cheeks, rubbing them delicately with his thumbs. His hands were warm and you closed your eyes.

"I missed you too," you whispered and when you opened them again Haechan’s eyes were getting watery too. He looked at the sky briefly as if trying to conceal that but you cupped his face and pulled it down to make him look at you again.

His lips were red and open, letting a warm breath caress your nose.

"I have something to tell you."

Haechan furrowed his eyebrows and blinked at you, a few snowflakes falling from his lashes and melting on his rosy cheeks.

You let your hands descend to his shoulders, brushing away the snow piling up, then his chest and your fingers played with his coat buttons for a moment before being able to speak.

I'm dating Jeno, Haechan thought. That was what you were going to say, right? He likes me now and I know I was mad at you before but now I'm actually grateful that you were a dick that night and made it possible for him to realize that he likes me and now I'm not mad anymore and we can be friends like-

"I love you."

Suddenly the sky fell and Haechan couldn't breathe anymore.

"It was for you," you added.

"What?" Haechan's voice sounded far away to his own ears.

"The shot. It was for you."

"Wait."

The boy steadied himself on you as if the ground was slipping from underneath his feet.

"How is that possible? You like Jeno," he whispered but his mind was working faster than his mouth.

"Is this revenge? You want to make me believe that you love me so that I can confess that I love you too and so you can reject me?" he asked.

Your eyes widened at the theory and you chuckled lightly, expecting Haechan to laugh as well at the joke. But he was serious and the smile flattered on your lips.

"Are you serious?"

Haechan stared back.

"You love me?" you asked again.

"Answer me first. Is this a trick?"

You pressed your palms on his cheeks again, squeezing them until making Haechan pout and you leaned in, kissing his still warm lips. It was a quick and short peck, your heart too overwhelmed to do more, but for Haechan it was enough. His round eyes were shocked and his reddening cheeks told you the rest.

"Why would I trick you into doing that? That's messed up."

"I would do something like that," Haechan whispered, still processing the fact that you've just kissed him.

"Yeah, I know, because you're evil."

"I still can't comprehend how the shot was for me. Why didn't you tell me?"

You stepped back. "Oh yeah? Telling you after everyone thought it was for Jeno, Jeno included? After you did all of that? Me saying 'oh no Haechan, I have a crush on you' and see you reject me too? As everyone was watching?"

Haechan closed his eyes for a second as if pained and you eyed his adam apple going up and down.

"Why didn't you tell me afterwards?"

You sighed. "After you treated me like that? And for what? You didn't take a shot either."

Haechan's face scrunched up. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, please, forgive me," he wrapped your body again and pulled you towards him. "I was so stupid. I was so fucking stupid."

"You're still stupid," you mumbled, voice muffled by his scarf. You inhaled his scent and slid your arms under his coat, all around his warm torso.

"Yeah. I'm here like an idiot, having you run in the snow and keeping you in the blizzard instead of taking you home-".

"I am home."

You raised your face and the look Haechan gave you warmed you all up as if spring suddenly arrived.

"I love you," he suddenly whispered. "I love you," he repeated. "I love you. I love you." He hugged you tighter and brushed his cold nose with yours. "I love you," he said it again until he couldn't physically say it anymore as his lips kissed yours. It was a slow and soft kiss, as if he was afraid, as if he felt too sorry to do more.

"Kiss me like you mean it."

Haechan finally smiled a little on your lips and he did just that until you started to feel dizzy.

When he pulled away, he cupped your face again then your head, pressing his palms on your cold ears.

"You'll get sick if we don't leave. More kisses later."

In a second his scarf was all around your neck and face, leaving out only your eyes. Haechan smiled at the view and whispered something similar to 'penguin' under his breath.

"Hand," he requested and you gave it to him, letting his fingers intertwine with yours and sighing at the feeling of his warm coat pocket.

"So you were jealous of Jeno, huh?"

Haechan put his tongue in his cheek as you walked down the snowy road and you chuckled at his dry nod.

"What you did was kind of lame, not gonna lie," you teased him.

Haechan sighed and playfully tugged you towards him.

"I'm not mad but you still need to do a few things for me to fully forgive you."

"Okay," he said.

"Kisses. Many kisses."

Haechan nodded once. "Can do."

"Food."

Haechan nodded again. "Also can do."

"Call me princess."

"What!?"

The sound of your footsteps and laughter decreased gradually as you walked away, the white snow engulfing you both until your figures couldn't be seen anymore.

"You have to reject Jeno now."

"Oh my God! That's... so sad, I feel so sorry."

"I would feel sorry too but I'm actually glad. At least it's not me."

"So you're actually evil. Jeno never confessed anyway. There's no need to do that."

"Good. He'll step back when he'll see us making out on the couch."

"We're not making out on the couch!"

"Okay, princess."

The snow covered all of your footsteps, the empty road looking like a white field.

"I love you, princess."

"I love you too."

"Kiss, now?"

"Later."

"Okay, princess."

"Kiss now."

The echo of your laugh as Haechan lifted you up and twirled you around before kissing you was the last thing the snowy road witnessed.

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista���s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

[gio-is-writing]

[Platonic!Bucci Gang x Female!Reader]

Author’s Note: Hi! This is my first time posting a story so I’m kinda nervous about it haha, hope you like it ♡

Summary: Giorno meets the gang, at least one of them was nice enough. 

Warnings: Language, the gang being chaotic as ever I guess

WC:  1.2k+

FIRST MEETING

Looking up from her nails and around, (Y/N) noticed Abbacchio was listening to some music on his headphones, Mista was reading a book and Fugo trying to make Narancia study. She sighted and watched as one of the waiters brought four pieces of strawberry cake ‘finally something good’ thought to herself, Mista without glancing at the waiter pointed to the service cart between him and Fugo.

“Listen up Narancia” said Fugo patting said teen on the back “you’re amazing. I know is hard to ask for help learning when you didn’t even go to grade school but you learned your multiplication tables, right? You can do this, concentrate!”

It was hilarious to see Narancia’s tired and annoyed face even through Fugo encouraging him, this whole ordeal was like a ticking bomb just waiting to explode. As the blonde lifted a notebook with 16 x 55 written on it and asking what was 6 times 5, Narancia thought for a moment before answering.

“Thirty?” he asked rather than giving a sure answer

“Correct! See?” Fugo smiled “I knew you could do it!”

“Wow Narancia you really are learning” the female said with a proud smile, he turned to her and smiled gaining confidence and turned to scribble it on his notebook.

“Hey, what’s the deal with this!?” screamed Mista from across the table and pointed at the strawberry cake. Fugo again asked what was wrong with it but as looking back at it they noticed, 4 pieces only. As they continued to discuss about the constant fear Mista had for things related to number four Y/N felt a tug in HER stomach, ‘god I’m hungry’. She turned to Abbacchio and softly tapped his shoulder; he turned a little while uncovering one of his ears and lifting a brow.

“Think you can pass one piece over?” she whispered to him. He rolled his eyes but stood up nonetheless to get a slice of cake and set it on the table right in front of her. She thanked him with a smile and turned to Narancia still writing on the paper but got back to the delicious dessert.

“I did it!” as she barely got a piece of strawberry into her mouth, she slightly jumped at Narancia’s yell.

Fugo turned back to him and picked up his notebook with an easy smile, a smile that soon banished and scowled, this didn’t look good.

Fugo grabbed a fork and stabbed it into Narancia’s cheek without warning, leaving the rest of them speechless but not entirely surprised at his antics “You fucking delinquent! Do you take this as a joke?! Shit for brains!” and slammed his head into the table with rage.

(Y/N) sighted “Come on Fugo, let go of him…” tried to intervene with a calm voice.

“You heard her! Let go of me, I’ll kill you!” and as quick as he could stand up Narancia had a knife against his neck.

Closing her eyes and sighting dramatically, she stood up. ‘I need fresh air and this whole atmosphere is getting on my nerves’ Just as she pushed the chair back Bruno’s voice was heard.

“What the hell are you guys doing?!” He walked in. Smiling at the table before turning back to greet him she noticed he wasn’t alone. “I could hear you all from the entrance, you are bothering the other customers!”

A boy followed after him, with blonde hair in a type of mullet hairstyle with 3 pinup rolls up front and a serious face, if he was nervous, he didn’t really show it.

“This is the new member I told you about yesterday, let me introduce you. This is Giorno Giovanna”

Everyone stayed silent and serious looking directly at him, the teen advanced a few steps and bowed “I’m Giorno Giovanna, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” As he got up again there was no word, no response from anyone until they decided to go back to what they were doing, as if the introduction never happened. The girl scoffed at their attitude and walked up to them with a little bow out of respect.

“I’m (Y/N), it’s really nice to meet you Giorno” with a warm smile looked up at him. Bruno nodded and turned to everyone to scold them for their extremely rude behavior, couldn’t expect less from them. “I’m sorry for that” she whispered to him.

“Don’t be” he simply said looking at everyone on the table. Bruno continued to rant at everybody until one of the waiters noticed him of an upcoming call, with a sigh he left the room giving a warning glance at the boys. Giorno and (Y/N) looked at him until he was out of our sights and she looked back to him.

“Well, now that you’re here let’s sit” as she turned to the table the boys had an odd expression on their faces, what were they up to? She opened her mouth to speak again.

“Giorno, was it?” asked Abbacchio setting the kettle on the table, didn’t it just spill? When did they bring more tea? “Let’s have some tea and chat” (Y/N) looked suspiciously at him but said nothing as both teenagers sat on the table. Abbacchio poured a cup for Giorno and set it Infront of him “Well, drink up”

“Care to pour me a cup Abba?” (Y/N) asked eyeing Giorno’s cup suspiciously and looking at said man who gulped and almost started to break a sweat.

“Um…there’s none left” he responded quickly and turned back to Giorno “So?”

Something just didn’t sit right with (Y/N) in this situation, seeing these men at their edge of their seats looking expectantly at the poor blonde. She stood up slamming her hands in the table and walking out with a huff, Bruno will hear this out.

Just as she was walking out, she spotted Bruno ending a call on the phone and walking back. He noticed the frown in her face and quicken his pace to be right in front of her.

“They are being dicks again” a sight and now Bruno was the one frowning walking past her and into their reserved space.

“What the hell are you guys doing?!” was the first thing he said, (Y/N) following on his heels with her hands on her waist.

“It’s nothing” Giorno looked back at them “He went to the trouble to pour this tea for me” and closed the distance between the cup and his lips.

“Giorno, wait!” (Y/N) tried to stop him but he was half way down, she gasped as everyone looked surprised at him drinking what ever the hell was on that cup. After drinking all he placed the cup back on the little saucer and stayed silent.

All the boys started yelling about how insane that was and that they couldn’t believe he actually drank it. (Y/N) sat on the table once again still shocked that just happened in the few minutes of his arrival, ‘poor guy’ she thought rubbing her forehead mortified. He then went on talking about keeping their abilities secret and that peaked her attention, did this guy have a stand too?

He went on talking about his ability and how he used it to save his ass from drinking what Abbacchio poured for him, it was quite the stand and (Y/N) could see he was quite clever for it. She looked at Bruno and gave him a smile with a thumbs up ‘Great addition’ she mouthed to him and turned back to the conversation at hand.

Giorno fitted just right with them, she was sure of it now.

[hockeylvr59]

It Started with a DM || Jake Debrusk

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Just another little something that demanded to be written. I was honestly debating on whether or not to write it and then JD went live today and obviously it was a sign.

Warnings: features quarantine as a setting, some cursing. 

Word Count: 3,828

~~~~~~~~~

Being quarantined alone was well, to put it simply, lonely. As a freelance photographer, you were for the most part out of work. You didn’t have a significant other to keep you company, there wasn’t space at your parents’ for you to go home, and your apartment didn’t allow pets. On top of all of that, sports were canceled. Specifically hockey. 

The combination of all of this left an empty hole in your heart and lots of time on your hands. Missing hockey was the whole reason you started watching twitch streams. If you couldn’t have hockey at least you could have hockey players playing video games. You’d started with Zach Hyman and Mitch Marner because Toronto was on a shortlist of teams you were fairly indifferent about. But after a week or so you found yourself watching David Pastrnak because he was on almost daily around dinnertime and it gave you something to listen to while you cooked. Watching Pasta’s streams had led to your introduction to Jake Debrusk and it was silly how the sound of his voice and his laugh brought a smile to your face. It was even sillier because you were absolutely not a Boston fan. Especially not after they knocked your Hurricanes out of the playoffs last season. 

Still, each time that your phone received a notification that Jake had come online you immediately stopped whatever you were doing to watch. You weren’t part of the group that regularly played with him and Pasta, nor did you even really participate in the chats, you just watched. And for a couple hours each time, you felt a little less alone. For weeks this continued, with you only popping in to chat to wish Jake’s sister a happy birthday when he let her take over his stream for a little bit. To be honest you were just grateful for something to do. Never did you expect to log on one day to find a whisper sitting in your inbox. 

Jdebrusk: Hey. Saw you’ve watched quite a few of my streams. Just wanted to reach out and say thanks. 

You weren’t shocked by the fact that he could see a list of viewers, you kind of expected that. What shocked you was the fact that he actually cared enough to reach out to some stranger who he had never actually interacted with before. You weren’t sure what had pushed you to respond, maybe it was the Southern friendliness or maybe it was something else but after typing and deleting a response multiple times you finally pressed send and then immediately closed your browser in a failed attempt to not freak out. 

Yourusername: Pretty sure I should be thanking you for sharing your time with us and making things a little easier. 

____

With no one you followed coming online to stream for a few days, you didn’t even check the site to see if Jake had responded. But when you next logged on and saw a message notification once again you found yourself getting nervous for no reason as you opened it. 

Jdebrusk: Well you’re welcome. Feel free to join in the chat anytime. Streaming has helped keep my family from driving me insane.  

Yourusername: I’m more of a lurker. It’s just easier. And family can be a lot but be grateful you aren’t just staring at 4 walls every day. 

Stepping away from your computer you grabbed your camera and attempted to go for a walk to take some aesthetic shots. As you slipped your memory card into the computer a while later, you noticed another notification. 

Jdebrusk:  Fair enough. You quarantining alone? 

Yourusername: yep. But I guess it could be worse. I could live where it’s snowing in May. 

Jdebrusk: Can I ask where you’re at?

For a split second you debated giving up this information but it didn’t seem like giving away your state could hurt. 

Yourusername: North Carolina. 

Jdebrusk: Nice! Cool state. Been there a few times. 

Yourusername: I’m aware. No need to rub in sweeping my team, Debrusk. 

Jdebrusk: And she’s got a sense of humor ladies and gentlemen. Well, or he...I guess I don’t even know that. AWKWARD. 

Yourusername: She works. 

Jdebrusk: Cool cool. So a hurricanes fan huh? 

Yourusername: Yeah. My family would probably disown me if they knew I was talking to a Bruin. 

Jdebrusk: Yowza. 

Yourusername: So if anyone asks I’m only here for Rocky appearances. ;)

Jdebrusk: She’s only here for my cat. Got it. 

You couldn’t explain why talking with Jake felt so easy but it did. When he came on to stream next you chirped him through whispers the entire time and seeing his reaction in real-time as he read them had you giggling uncontrollably. By the time he got off, you were just waiting for his comments to come streaming your way. Instead of some long-winded rant brushing off all your jabs you just got a single comment in response. 

Jdebrusk: It’s not fair that you can chirp me and I don’t know anything about you. 

Yourusername: What do you want to know? 

Jdebrusk: I mean your name would be a good start. Age might also be important...you’re not like 12 right? 

Yourusername: Would I be quarantining alone if I was 12? I’m 24. Y/N. 

Jdebrusk: right. Right. Y/N from Carolina. Who likes cats. Got it. Are you a student or…?

Yourusername: Freelance Photographer. 

Jdebrusk:  Alright. Nice. Do you do like weddings or nature stuff or what?

Yourusername: A little bit of everything. @wildflowerphotography is my company name if you want to go on insta and see some of my work. 

No reply followed and you tried not to dwell on it. Instead you poured a glass of wine, lit a few candles, and settled into your bathtub, trying to relax for bed. Still nagging thoughts lingered in your brain. Was sharing your company page too much? He probably wasn’t asking for you to promote yourself, he was just being polite right? Though you hated yourself for letting it bother you, you were the type of person who overthought everything...which thinking about it was probably why you were still single. 

Your anxious thoughts lingered and you tossed and turned all night before finally pulling yourself out of bed the next morning. It was only as you dug through your company dms, responding to a few potential clients that wanted you to take socially distant photos for them that you stumbled upon a familiar username. 

Jdebrusk: You took all of those? Holy shit that’s talent. 

The timestamp showed the message was sent only twenty minutes after you gave him the username and you sighed to yourself before chuckling at the fact that Jake was too lazy to switch back to twitch to respond. 

Wildflowerphotography: Thanks. I’m really proud of them all. 

It was still early in the morning so there was no way he was awake with the two hour time difference so after making yourself some breakfast you took another short walk, trying anything to get your mind off of the loneliness that felt worse today than most days. Your mood had definitely been a rollercoaster recently with higher peaks and lower lows than normal. It was something you were trying to manage the best you could but sometimes it was just hard. 

With the rest of your afternoon spent binging a random tv show you didn’t even look at your phone until dinner time, but waiting for you was another dm from the Canadian hockey player. 

Jdebrusk: You should be. 

Jdebrusk: So listen...this is probably weird but can I get your number so I can stop wading through a bunch of dms and whispers I don’t care about and just talk to you? 

It was a fair question but to be blunt, today was probably the worst day for him to ask because your anxiety-riddled brain kept wanting to know why he even cared about talking to you. You didn’t know what he was looking for from all of this but your mind immediately assumed the worst. So instead of just being open with him, you blew him off, completely ignoring his message. And when he logged onto twitch next, though you wanted to watch, you forced yourself to avoid that as well. 

Three days passed before another message appeared. 

Jdebrusk: You okay? You didn’t watch the last stream. I’m sorry if I fucked up. I’ll back off if you want...I just want to know that you’re okay. 

The concern he was expressing was honestly something you didn’t expect and you found yourself crying as you read it over and over. Jake was nothing but a joyous person and the last thing you wanted was to bring him down with the mess of your own mind. 

Wildflowerphotography: you didn’t fuck up. I just...this is all on me okay. 

With your phone left open to your message string with him you watched as little dots appeared before vanishing repeatedly. Eventually a new message appeared simply containing a string of numbers composing a phone number. Jake was putting the ball in your court and a few minutes later the part of you that was aching to hear his voice won the mental war and you found yourself dialing the number. 

“Y/N?” Jake questioned the second he answered and a shaky sob slipped from your throat at the sound of him speaking your name for the first time. “What’s going on?” He murmured and by his tone you could tell he was both confused and concerned. You wanted to speak, wanted to pretend everything was fine but you’d already gone over the edge and it was too late for that now. Another sob spilled through your body and you faintly heard Jake mumble a curse. “Do you want me to just talk to you? I’ll just keep talking okay and you can hang up if you want.” He offered. And talk he did, you weren’t even sure what he was telling you, you were more focused on the grounding sound of his voice itself rather than the content of the words he was speaking. Eventually your breathing steadied out and the elephant sitting on your chest lessened allowing you to murmur his name. 

The second he heard your voice he paused mid-story.

“Thank you.” You whispered into the phone. 

“Are you okay?” He inquired, his voice tentative like he was worried anything he said would push you back over the edge. 

“Better.” You admitted. “Not great but better.” 

“I’ll take better.” He insisted. “It’s nice to actually hear your voice.” He added, causing your cheeks to flame up unconsciously. You opened your mouth to apologize again for your breakdown only to be stopped as he insisted you not do so. “But really...are you okay?” He repeated his question and you sighed. 

“It’s been a rough few days mentally for me.” You admitted. “But I will be okay.” You added. 

“Okay enough to stop ignoring me?” He teased and when you let out another shaky breath he backtracked. “It’s okay, I get it. I was just worried. You don’t have to talk to me ever again if you don’t want to.” 

“I do want to.” You breathed. “Talk to you that is.” As if he sensed you had more to say, Jake remained quiet, only the sound of his breathing coming through the phone. 

“I guess...you should probably know that I tend to overthink things. I want to talk to you. Hearing your voice makes my entire day. I just...I guess I’m just confused on why you want to talk to me. What your intentions are, etc. And you...you don’t have to answer that just...that’s where my head is at.” 

Jake was silent for a minute before his voice reached back through the phone. 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know what this is either. But I’m intrigued by you and I guess my intention is just to get to know you better if you’ll let me.” Jake’s honesty was refreshing and you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “And if I can make your day just by talking...well that’s a pretty sweet bonus.” 

______

Quarantine continued to drag on, paused only by some carefully planned photo sessions with your distance lenses getting extra abuse. You continued talking to Jake, mostly through text but with the occasional phone call. He’d whine about the crap he was getting from his sister when he’d disappear to talk to you but he’d insist that it was worth it in the next breath. Between the streams, the phone calls, the texts and the memes he’d send you, suddenly you felt a lot less alone, at least emotionally. 

A month since your first phone call had passed before Jake sent you a text that made your heart stop. 

JD:  So how come I send you pictures all the time and yet I still don’t know what you look like? 

For weeks he had been sending you photos of him snuggling with Rocky or hanging with Jordyn and there had even been a shirtless workout pic or two which had left you debating whether a cold shower was appropriate. At the same time, you hadn’t worked up the courage to send him any photos in return other than ones you took of nature on your walks or snippets from photoshoots you’d done. Trying to downplay it all you sent back a teasing response. 

YN: What can I say I’m a behind the lens person. 

JD: Y/N...c’mon I just wanna see how beautiful you are. 

Leaving him on ‘read’ you sighed and bit your lip not sure how to respond. You were afraid if he knew what you looked like that he wouldn’t want to talk to you anymore and you weren’t sure what you’d do if you lost something that had sort of become a saving grace in this crazy time. 

JD: Is this one of those insecurity things? Is that why I haven’t seen you yet? 

It was starting to amaze you how well Jake could read you. It had been a long time since anyone was able to see through the walls you put up, see behind the camera that you hid behind, but it had only been a month or so and already Jake was starting to read the silences between the words. 

JD: Do you want me to get Jordyn to pump you up? A picture isn’t going to change what I think of you…

YN: You don’t know that. 

JD: C’mon YN give me a little more credit than that. You know I’m not that shallow. I like you okay. I like the woman that chirps me. I like the woman that listens to me and always knows what to say. I like the woman that sees me as Jake and not Boston Bruin Jake Debrusk. And since none of that is based on your physical appearance I’m going to like you no matter what you look like. 

YN: Promise? 

JD: Yeah Y/N, I promise. 

Scrolling through your camera roll you attempted to decide on which of the few photos of yourself made you look at least somewhat pretty before biting the bullet and attaching it to the text conversation. The moment you hit send you winced and your anxiety didn’t ebb until your phone rang in your hand. 

“You’re stunning.” Jake’s voice breathed lowly the second the line connected. “Just as beautiful outside as you are inside which I wasn’t sure was even possible.” By now you knew when Jake was trying to play something up versus when he was being genuine and his voice now was 100% the latter. But taking compliments about your body was never something you’d been good at so you didn’t know what to say in response. 

“I hope you believe me.” He added. “I knew you wouldn’t believe a text even if I sent it 100 times so I hope you can believe me, hearing me say it.” 

“I...thanks Jake.” You finally mumbled. You did believe that he was being honest, he had no reason not to be with you living thousands of miles apart, but at the same time, you still felt uneasy about it for reasons you’d never fully be able to explain. 

___

Tearing down the last barrier of anonymity seemed to open up a new world between you and Jake. If it was even possible you communicated more frequently, adding facetime calls to your usual methods. Seeing the way he looked at you while you talked sent heat flooding through your body and you quickly came to the realization that you were falling hard for him. 

That knowledge was terrifying and once again you wanted to pull away, protect yourself from getting hurt. But then Jordyn stole her brother’s phone and called you, raving about how when all of this was over you had to agree to meet her brother in person because she had never seen him like this over anyone. Talking with Jordyn reminded you that Jake didn’t have to go to all of this work, didn’t have to deal with your crazy emotions if he didn’t think you were worth the time and effort. It may be a pandemic but surely there were women in Edmonton willing to break social distancing rules if it meant scoring someone as wonderful as Jake. But yet each and every night he was on the phone with you, taking the time to get to know all of the things that make you tick, your likes and dislikes, your hopes and dreams. 

And it wasn’t just Jordyn that knew about you. You’d been on the phone with Jake when both of his parents came outside and when he’d asked them to come back in a minute because he was talking to you, they just called out your name in greeting and waved. 

“Your parents know my name?” You’d asked and Jake ducked his head shyly before replying. “I mean yeah…” He stated. “My mom can’t wait to meet you.” You were sure from Jake’s point of view that it was probably comical how wide your eyes went at his statement. 

“Jake what...what is this...are we just friends or…?” It wasn’t a question that you ever anticipated asking but it was out there now. From the other side of the screen, you watched Jake adjust his ball cap over his overly long hair. 

“Fuck...Y/N…” Jake started and you opened your mouth to assure him that friends was fine, that it was what you wanted too because if you didn’t put your heart out there than you couldn’t get hurt. Before you could speak though Jake continued. “No...we’re not just friends. I think you know that as well as I do.” He admitted. “I don’t know exactly what we are. I...I was hoping to meet you in person when I asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend. I know...I know that none of this is ideal because even when this is over there’s going to be the whole long-distance thing but...I can’t deny that I have feelings for you y/n. I don’t want to deny it.” 

“I don’t want to deny it either.” You said softly, fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean...if you’re willing to put up with my emotional baggage…” You shrugged. 

“You have feelings for me too?” Jake questioned, his normal confidence suppressed. “I have no problems supporting you through dealing with your baggage if you’re willing to do the same with mine. I know I’ve fucked up in the past as a boyfriend and I don’t want to do that to you.” 

“I think I’m kinda sorta falling for you.” You stated anxiously, unable to meet Jake’s gaze through the screen until he breathed your name. 

“So can we agree we’re something more than friends and that we’ll figure out the details as part of returning to the new normal?” 

“Yeah...we can agree to that.” You nodded. 

_______

The new normal had finally arrived and that meant that you were going to see Jake in person for the first time. The two of you had been “more than friends” for what felt like forever now but had realistically been a few months but with each passing day you knew you wanted more. You still didn’t know how it would all work with him playing in Boston and you owning a company in North Carolina but you were ready to figure it out together if it meant that you could finally have him for real. 

Jake’s plane was scheduled to land in ten minutes and you were running so far behind. Your senior picture photoshoot had run over and traffic was a mess. You’d texted Jake apologizing but upon getting your text he’d quickly waved your concerns off declaring that he’d just get an uber and meet you at your apartment. It would be a better first meeting anyway because you wouldn’t be time-restricted by parking or pick up zone rules. 

When you finally pulled into your parking lot you checked your phone to see if Jake had arrived yet. It wasn’t until you reached the front steps of your building that you noticed someone sitting there, bags beside them. He looked up at the same time that your brain processed that it was him and he was really there and tears instantly prickled in your eyes. As you rushed to close the distance, Jake stood to catch you as you threw yourself at him. 

No words needed to be said as you tugged his mouth down to your own, kissing him for the very first time. It was nothing like you had expected but at the same time it was everything and at that moment you knew that this was it, you were in love. It had been such a long wait, but the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, his lips against yours was well worth it. It was cheesy but you knew that the physical chemistry was only this strong because you already knew each other inside and out and now that he was here, now that he was finally yours, things could only get better. 

Being with Jake despite the distance wouldn’t be easy but now that you knew the way he felt, the way he tasted, the scent of his cologne, you were willing to do whatever it took to make it. If you could fall in love during a global pandemic, you could do anything and it would make a great story to tell the grandkids one day about how they only came to exist because of a direct message on a streaming site while the world was quarantined. 

[smuggsy]

Can I have a "i sleep better in your bed" for flyboys please 🥺

All right, I know those are supposed to be comfort prompts but I didn’t quite get there. Just a helpless pining Collins for you, my friend.

Collins doesn't fall into unhealthy habits. He thinks it must have something to do with him coming from a very small village, born into an even smaller family. An early bird that took care of the farm in the wee hours of the morning when everyone else enjoyed an hour or two of extra sleep.

A fag or two a day? That's alright, it's only common in the ranks; but he's never been one for alcohol. It would serve a purpose, he thinks, as he turns on his bed for the third time that minute.

Maybe if he knocked down a pint or two he'd get a wink of sleep on this godforsaken place. Which is anything but forsaken, of course. Quite the opposite. They've been sent out to an airfield in Croydon and it's beaming with personnel and new recruits being noisy and chipper, the word "inexperienced" written all over their faces.

Collins knows that's about to change, and he turns once again on his bed as that intruding thought downs on him at 2 in the morning. They've been transferred here for a reason and he reckons any day now the Luftwaffe will give those cheerful new lads a reason to finally get in the air and they will soon have no extra energy to burn off, no impromptu football matches to organize, no more bets to make on their card games.

At that, he finally sits up on his bed and weights his chances. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this again. It was just a one-night thing, and he didn't even ask for permission to go and use someone else's bed.

(Although, to be fair, Farrier wasn't there to be asked. If he'd been, he'd have probably kicked him back to his own bed with a gruffly grunt.)

There is no infestation of ants round this side of the room tonight, so tonight he's got no real reason to scoot over to the opposite bed and lay down on it, the same thin and overly-soft army-issued mattress underneath but feeling much more comfortable.

Because it smells like Farrier.

Fuck it. He's always up before anyone else and Farrier won't be here till six.

And he's going to be awful tired for his early flight tomorrow morning if he doesn't get a proper four hours of shut-eye.

Farrier's not here.

What Farrier doesn't know won't hurt him.

So, in the dead of night, with about twenty-five other pilots sound asleep, he tiptoes over and gets under the covers with a sigh, his shoulders relaxing and his eyes shutting close with easiness at the familiar smell.

Collins doesn't really have any unhealthy habits.

But this may just be becoming one.

* * *

He's over by the runway when Farrier meets him at eight. His hair is wet and he looks very clean, and Collins actually hears him approaching before he sees him. That same cadence to his footsteps, careless and easy-going yet firmly getting closer.

"Morning," Farrier says, and Jenkins nods his way. Collins finishes fastening up his lifejacket and turns around to greet him, smell of coffee filling the air.

And also the smell of shampoo.

"'Elo," he says with a smile, avoiding Farrier's intent stare because it feels weird, because he really needs to stop using his bed every night when he can't sleep, because it's a violation of his privacy and it's wrong and it's becoming a thing, "good night?"

"Uneventful," Farrier shrugs and he comes closer to stand next to him with his cup of coffee, his free hand buried deep inside the front pocket of his navy-blue trousers, "you'll have a quiet day as well, I reckon."

"I hope not," Jenkins blurts out, turning around and heading for his own Spitfire at seeing their Squadron Leader hopping up, mumbling something about Jerries and the weather forecast.

Collins turns to Farrier with an awkward smile, feeling immensely inadequate standing next to him and smelling that same scent from up close. That's what his pillowcase smells like.

Stop it.

He clears his throat and checks his lifejacket's in place again, unaware of how twitchy he's behaving. Unaware of Farrier following his every nervous movement with an almost-smirk on his face.

"See ya then," he says in lieu of a goodbye, but when he takes a step forward Farrier catches his arm and stops him from leaving.

Collins turns around with sweat on his brow.

"What's up with you?"

"What? Nothing - stomachache. Milk was sour, I think. Good thing yer havin’ coffee," he rants, gesturing towards the half-empty cup Farrier's holding, ignoring the way his ex wing-mate is frowning at him like he's grown a second head, "I need to go."

Farrier's still got a hold of him and he frowns unapprovingly for a couple more seconds before stepping back. Collins makes a run for the cockpit and keeps his eyes forward until they take off.

They're not even out for sixty minutes before they must head back, storm looming over London and air so wet and hot they all make a beeline for the showers soon as they step back on land.

Collins keeps himself busy. He replies to a letter, he plays some poker, he sits down by Hugh when he picks up his guitar and starts singing away the afternoon.

And one too many times he finds Farrier looking at him from afar.

Just looking. Pondering. Not approaching.

He must know he's avoiding him, Collins thinks, and he feels like an idiot. Like a jittery teenager every time he glances around to find Farrier smiling at something his wingmates say but meeting his gaze immediately when he finds him looking.

The sky falling outside doesn't help a single bit.

There's nowhere to go.

When Farrier approaches him, like he'd been waiting for Jenkins to go away to come and chat, Collins runs a hand over his eyes and nods towards him, tired of the idleness and tired of his very useless infatuation.

Maybe he should stop turning down invitations from pretty birds at the pub and have some fun. Fuck the image of Farrier away from his brain, have his very musky scent erased from his memory and replaced by some soft flowery perfume.

"Alright?" Farrier greets.

Collins answers with a sigh and lights up a fag.

"Fuckin' bored," he says, with the cigarette in between his lips and leaning against the window overlooking the runway. It's immensely dark outside, save for one or two bolts of lightning flashing prettily in the distance.

Farrier lets out a laugh next to him.

"You sound like the boys," he comes round to block Collins' view and his eyes glitter with mischief as he takes a bite of his very red apple, "you should know better. Enjoy a quiet day for once."

He offers him the apple as he chews, and Collins shakes his head and can't help but smile at his air of playfulness, the awkward exchange of looks feeling distant and utterly silly.

This is Farrier.

They've been together since they got their wings.

Just his mate.

Nothing else.

"Yeah, well," Collins takes a deep draw and when he talks next, the smoke goes in Farrier's direction, "maybe they're growing on me."

"Yeah," Farrier says, half-heartedly like his mind's someplace else, and he just stares.

From then on, it starts getting awkward again and Collins shifts his weight from foot to foot, at a loss for words and feeling like he's being read like an open book.

It feels like ages before Farrier gestures towards him with the half-eaten apple again and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You have a very nice cologne, don't think I ever said."

Collins almost chokes.

But it's just smoke in his throat so he simply plays it off as a cough.

"Quite strong," Farrier continues; Collins feels like his soul is leaving his body, like he's imploding, like he's about to pass out, "but nice."

He looks around, maybe someone nearby will come and drag him out of this situation, out of this conversation, is Jenkins gone off already?

"My bedsheets stink of it."

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Dear me, don't look so mortified!" Farrier laughs, he laughs, "I don't mind, but someone will notice, and they'll start talkin'."

Oh fuck, we are having this conversation.

"Shite, look - sorry, I'm sorry, I just, it's - I dunno," yes you do, you do know, you bleedin' idiot, "I sleep better in yer bed, I won' do it again."

"Do it all you want.”

And Collins stops himself from blurting out any more apologies at that, frozen in place whereas Farrier looks positively amused by the whole affair.

The fact that he's taking it so lightly is almost insulting.

"You wha'?" Collins blinks stupidly.

Farrier checks that no-one else is within earshot and shifts the slightest bit closer to him. Just a silent and quick look around that sends off alarms in Collins' brain.

The Scot swallows through a very dry throat and he most definitely doesn't look down at Farrier's throat when he swallows another piece of his apple, that very sweet apple he can smell from where he's standing.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me lately? Acting all weird because you've been sleeping in my bed?"

Collins makes a face. Farrier laughs again, the bastard.

"God, don't say it like that, ye make it sound-"

"What? I make it sound what?"

Collins can't make a sound. He can only look at Farrier, with his hazelnut twinkling eyes staring right into his soul, the brightest of lightning making his pupils go small for half a second, those juicy lips that would most definitely taste of fruit, the collar of his shirt buttoned-down, the suspenders firmly in place on top of both wide shoulders and BANG!

The loudest and closest thunder so far sinks the whole hall into deep darkness, only the very dim light from cigarette tips visible here and there. A collective wave of groans and colourful swearwords can be heard all throughout.

Collins jumps in his place at the sudden deafening sound, and instantly two strong arms come to grab each side of his shoulders to prevent him from moving, and he can't see a thing but he can feel, he can feel Farrier's fingers grabbing insistently at the fabric around his biceps and he can feel him suddenly leaning closer.

And he can feel him kiss him too.

Deep and needy and just a flash.

Like that lightning.

So fast and unpredictable it leaves him heaving for breath and needing to brace himself against the thick window glass. It leaves him tasting apple.

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry

A/N: I feel like I forgot how to write but I guess the best way to overcome that is trying to write again. I’m still trying to write Lawyer Harry and Ohana but I’m struggling I don’t know why. Also this on first person POV. Thought I’d try something different too. Anyway, sorry for this annoying intro I don’t even know who I’m writing this for haha if after all this ranting you still decided to read, thank you and happy reading! xxx

INDIE’S POV

This skirt fitted me better last spring. I look at my profile on the mirror and focus on my belly and my lips frown at the muffin top I got during the winter. I really need to get back with the abs routine Sergio had made for me. I guess it would help if I didn’t hate abs with a passion. I’d be so fit if I didn’t hate abs and then it would be over for all of them skinny bitches. 

“Indie?” Jason barely whispers my name outside the door. 

“Coming.” 

I open the door fast as soon as I get my white coat on, getting my braid out of it as I walk with Jason towards the doctors’ offices. I have yet to meet my mentor, doctor Hill, since yesterday he didn’t work. That’s something I’ll never understand. If he’s not working then how can he have a medical student assigned for hospital practice? That’s beyond me. Thank God for young doctors who still remember what it was like to be an ignored Med student and help you out and take care of you. God bless them. 

“You look cute today.” Jason points out but I know he means it more like a suspicion than a compliment so I just roll my eyes and check I have my notepad on the pocket of my coat. “Hoping to see Mario again, are we?” 

I chuckle. 

“You know some of us don’t want to jump the bones of every nice guy we meet.” I tease him.

“You’re telling me. You haven’t been with anyone in fourteen months.”

“You’re counting?” I can feel my face contorting in desbelief. “That’s sick.” 

“I mean I don’t know if it’s been fourteen or fifteen or what but more than a year.” 

I look into his brown eyes and hold his stare for long enough so that he undertands I do not necessarily want to discuss this here and now where any professor could walk past us any minute and he rolls his eyes so I know he’ll drop it. 

“Anyway, our paths part here.” He announces right before he knocks on an office’s door and moves his mouth so that it looks like the voice of his mentor is his own. 

I chuckle again as I make my way to office 32, where I read doctor Hill should be today in the doctor’s planning. A patient stops me on the way there and asks me where the digestive doctors hall is and I give him the directions with the smile that comes naturally to my face. I’ve been told that a lot, that I’m always smiling, even my grandad used to call me toothy when I was little for how much he would see my teeth when I smiled. 

I’ve been studying medicine for four years and I’ve been dressing up as a doctor for hospital practice for two but it’s still exciting when some patient actually mistakes me with a real doctor because well, it’s so clear to me that I’m not, but it’s encouraging to see that people think I could be. 

The office door is opened and I hear two male voices casually chatting on the inside. I don’t want to eavesdrop, especially because the probability of getting caught is rather high so I knock on the opened door and wait for them to give me permission to enter. They just stop talking so I take another step and stand on their sight. Mario, the nice young doctor that helped me yesterday, is looking at me with raised eyebrows. It’s almost hard to recognize him without the surgery gown so I reckon it might be the same for him but then he smiles and I give him a smile back. 

“Hi, Mario.” 

“Hi. Looking for doctor Hill?” 

I nod at his question and he nods back as if telling me I’m on the right place but before he can speak the other doctor interrupts him. 

“Here it is, Mario. D’you want me to print it fo you?”

Mario moves to the side so I can see the man who owns that voice and I know I must look stunned because I am. Doctors don’t usually look like that and I have never been this lucky. Usually our mentors are doctors over 50 and when they’re male they’re usually fat or bald, sometimes both, but he looks like a movie star or like a singer or someone from Olympus and I try to save the way he looks on my mind as if I already know no one is ever going to look like him ever. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here for or if any of them has said anything to me but by the way his green eyes stare into mine, amused, I feel like it’s been too long. How did he even manage to be a mentor? I don’t think he’s even a full doctor yet, he looks to young for that. 

“You’re so unlucky, Harry. You got the most annoying student, always asking questions...” Mario jokes. 

I chuckle, finding it funny that he would remember how I apologized the day before for making so many questions. He was really nice yesterday and he’s being very nice now saving me from my embarrassingly staring at Harry. He then stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.” 

And much to my surprise, not that I’m complaining though, he approaches me and places one hand on my elbow, leaning in and pressing his cheek against mine in the way I would greet a friend. But he’s not a friend. No doctor has ever greeted me like that. And he just introduced himself as Harry, didn’t he? Does that mean he wants me to call him Harry? No doctor Hill anymore? 

“I’m Indigo.” I tell him.

“Indigo.” He smiles and I think I’ve forgotten how to speak. “That’s such a beautiful name.” 

“Thank you.” I look at my feet because I’m gonna fangirl if he keeps smiling at me. “My mum’s a painter and a hippy.” 

He laughs and I feel my breath getting caught on my throat. I think I’m having a tachicardia. I feel stupid. It’s not like I’ve never seen a handsome man before. But I’ve certainly never been this close to one and I’ve never had his attention. 

“Well, I’m on my way to the operating room.” Mario announces. “See you, mate.” 

He gives Harry a warning look before he goes but Harry chuckles and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s look and my nerves only grow stronger on my belly. 

“Well, Indigo, sit here next to me.” He grabs the chair next to his and brings it  closer to his until they’re touching and then he looks at me so I take a seat. “We usually check the list of the patients who are coming and read their clinical record before the visits begin, to be a little ahead, you know.” He smiles again. 

If he keeps smiling at me like that I might faint at some point today. He then turns towards the laptop and starts telling me about the patients, even though sometimes it feels like he’s more thinking out loud than talking to me. I should really listen, especially in case he feels like asking me questions during the day because I really do not want to look like an idiot but I could stare at him all I want now and he wouldn’t notice and I can’t let this chance go so if I have to look like an idiot I will. 

I let my eyes travel freely across his features. His hair is brown and is a little too long for a male who normally works on a surgery room. It’s not like it’s inappropriate or anything and it looks incredible on him and something tells me he knows that but it’s not usual that someone from his status wears their hair that long and that tousled. He asks something out loud but I know he’s not waiting for an answer because as soon as he asks it he searchs on the browser- and it’s not like I could have answered anyway. My mind is busy and the moment my eyes drop to his arm, flexed, elbow resting on the table, I could gulp just imagining those arms holding me against this very same desk and- what the fuck am I doing? 

I know he can’t hear what I think but I still have to remind myself that and I pray to God he does not turn around because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. He’s wearing the hospital uniform, with the baby blue button up and the baby blue pants, but I entertain my mind trying to picture his naked torso. This is so wrong for the love of God, he’s my professor. I really need to chill. I feel like a dog in season. But this is just extraordinary, I am not usually around men this hot, and what’s the harm in daydreaming anyway? 

The moment my eyes move back up they stare into his amused ones and I feel my cheeks heating up so I get afraid I’m blushing. 

“You were awfully quiet.” He states, a somewhat smug grin on his face but I am not judging, I made it pretty easy for him to make fun of me. “Did you understand?”

“Mostly.” 

“Mostly, huh?” He smirks. “If there’s something I say that you don’t understand you just stop me, alright? Now, can you read an electrocardiogram?” 

“I should be able to.” 

He chuckles and places it one in front of me. I am getting embarrassingly exciting that he finds me funny but I have to bite back a smile of my own at his friendly attitude. 

“Go on then.” 

“Okay, first thing we need to look for P on II and V1.” I speak very slow so that I have time to think while I do so and judging by the way he’s smirking, he’s noticing. “And we see that we have indeed P waves, which is good, no auricular fibrilation then. And then we look for QRS and we check the frequency by counting and multiplying” I do the calculations on my mind “and it’s 75 hearbeats per minute, a little high but nothing to worry about, people tend to get nervous when we do electrocardiograms on them. And we check the dimensions of the waves, the height, the width... And I don’t know this looks pretty normal to me.” 

I dare to look at him and he’s smirking but it doesn’t look cocky to me, it’s more like a proud smile so I smile back, happy with myself. 

“Very good.” He smiles. “Just a little, tiny detail but you obviously don’t need to know that so don’t worry.” He stands up from his chair and stands right behind me and places his left hand on the desk in front of me so I can his chest hovering over me. His finger points a random P wave. “If you look closely at the P wave, does it look normal to you?” 

I swallow, quite frankly I don’t know if the P wave looks normal or not. I guess it doesn’t because otherwise he wouldn’t be asking that but why does he smell so good? And why is his arm hovering over my chest? This could be the moment I faint. 

“I know it’s not because that’s why you’re asking but I don’t see it.” 

He laughs again and even though it’s silly, I can’t help but wonder if he laughs this much with everyone. 

“It’s a little higher than normal, but it’s very subtle, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet and anyway it’s not that important.” He laughs again. “But it might indicate a right atrium hypertrophy. That’s for an A+ in cardiology.” He smiles before taking his seat back and opening a new record. 

“What year are you in?” He’s not looking at me while he asks that. 

“Fourth.” 

He nods his head but keeps quiet after that and I’m not sure why he even asked that but for some reason- it might be because his scent still lingers on my nostrils or because he just hovered over me or because he indirectly asked my age- I feel a strange tension over my shoulders so I ask him something I genuinely don’t know anyway about the patient’s record and he even grabs a paper to draw some shit and for some reason that’s turning me on. The way he speaks, so slow but without hesitation, he’s got a very calming voice, and how many things he knows and how smart he seems to be... I’ve always had a thing for intelligent guys and the fact that he’s also so close and smells so good is only adding to that. 

“Hi there.” 

A very tall man with a white hospital uniform walks in and gives us both a look before he takes a seat on the counter next to the stretcher. He must be the nurse. 

“So” He says, giving us his back as he types something on his laptop “who are you?” He turns to look at me. 

I find it a little rude, but I don’t know this man at all. He might just be one of those people who come out strong so I give him a smile. 

“I’m a fourth year med student. I have practice here today.” I explain. 

“I know that, I’m your mentor, doctor Hill, but what’s your name?” 

“Oh, sorry.” My tongue melts. “I mean Indigo, not sorry. My name’s not sorry.” 

I hear Harry laughing out loud behind me and doctor Hill smiles as well. I totally looked like an idiot but at least they seemed to have found it endearing. 

“Well, my name’s not sorry either.” Doctor Hill said. “You can call me Peter, Indigo.” 

“Okay, Peter.” 

“I see you’ve already met my resident doctor, doctor Styles.” 

I nod my head. 

“Cool, so now that we all know each other... Harry, who’s the first one?” 

Like that we start visiting the patients and for the first time since I started my hospital practice, I actually have fun during one of them. Both Peter and Harry are quite funny, even though they do tease me a lot, but they also allow me to do a lot of things like weighting the patients, checking their blood pleasures and Harry even lets me do a clinical interview, under his watch obviously, but it was still exciting. The lady I did the interview to was so nice and I could feel Harry’s attentive stare with a proud, amused smile the entire time, even the lady smiled every time she looked at him. 

After about three hours of visits, Peter stands up from his chair next to mine and stretches his back. 

“So Harry, I think I’m gonna go to the surgery rooms to give a hand.” He states and my heart drops to my belly at the anticipation that he’s gonna make me go with him and my day with Harry is over. “What do you want to do, Indigo?” I hold my breath at the surprise. “Do you wanna come with me or stay here with Harry? Well, that’s if Harry doesn’t mind but I think he doesn’t.” He smirks. 

“No, of course not. It’s actually nice to have a nurse around.” He smiles. 

“I think I’m gonna stay then if that’s okay.” 

Peter nods and smiles. 

“Do you prefer visits over surgery room or you just prefer doctor Styles over me?” 

I see Harry shaking his head from the corner of my eye and look down at my hands. 

HARRY’S POV

“Sorry” I call Indigo with the nickname she gave herself and she raises her eyebrows “would you please call the next patient? Mrs Hope.” 

“Good name.” 

I cannot not smile. She stands up from her chair and I entertain my eyes with the laptop screen just to pretend I’m not watching her all the time. I think I’ve managed to rebuild my reputation from how much of a fool of myself I made when I introduced myself to her but it just took me off guard. I wasn’t expecing to have a student around at all, much less that the student was going to look like her. 

I’m also done with feeling guilty for thinking about her  that way, even though now I’m starting to feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but I can’t control my mind and I don’t think anyone who’s seen her could judge me. Plus, she can’t know what I’m thinking. Even Mario flirted with her this morning...

But no, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or to take advantage of my position at all. She came here to learn and I really need to stop looking at her thighs. She closes the door after Mr Copper and I feel the hair at the back of my neck bristle when I see the way he looks at her. 

“Good morning, doctor.” He greets me. “You’re very lucky you have such a beautiful assistant.” 

Sorry smiles but her shoulders have tensed and even though I’ve only known her for a few hours, I can tell when someone’s uncomfortable and I know she is. I don’t blame her either. I reckon I’d be uncomfortable too. 

“She’s also very smart too. That’s why she’s here actually.” 

I don’t want to be rude with my patient but for some reason I felt like I had to protect her. I catch her trying not to smile looking at her thighs and I try not to smile too. We do Mr Copper’s visit and she starts scribbling on her notepad and I have to help myself from peeking at the questions she’s going to make. I wonder if what she’s written down if that she has noticed Mr Copper jugular. 

When Mr Copper walks out, I turn to look at her and smile. Again. 

“Thank you.” She says. 

“What for?” I frown. 

“You know, for what you said.” Her eyes stare into mine and I try to figure out what is it about this girl that’s making me nervous. “Most guys don’t even understand why some compliments make us feel uncomfortable.” 

I smile at her. I hope she knows she really is beautiful and I mean I can understand Mr Copper and had he said that any other way or had he not looked at her like he did right before, I wouldn’t have said anything and I’m sure she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable but it was just inappropriate. 

“It’s true though.” 

I’m already a sucker for her smile. Thank God I am not going to see her again. 

“Do you have any questions for me?” 

“Mmm...” She bites her bottom lip. 

I’ve noticed she does that when she’s not sure of something. I like it. She has very beautiful lips too, so full and pink and moisturized. Look back into her eyes, Harry. 

“I’ve seen you scribbling like crazy.” I encourage her. 

I want her to ask me whatever it is that’s going through her mind. 

“No, well, I was describing his jugular.” 

I feel my dick as soon as she said that. So she noticed. She’s fucking smart and that’s a turn on. 

“So that I would remember what I saw, you know?” 

I nod. 

“Do I have to give you a mark or just sign your assistance?” 

“Just sign.” She shakes her head. 

“Shit. Well, you got an A anyway.” 

She grins excitedly and I want to ask her how old she is again but I turn around and open the next record. This is the last one left and it’s the first time since I started working I don’t want to finish visiting, but when we are done she’ll go and I’ll never see her again. 

I swear I’m trying not to feel attracted to her. I know it’s wrong but if I’m not going to see her again, I mean if she’s just going to leave now and I’ll never have to supervise her practice again, I could ask for her phone number, right? I mean I’m not a professor like Danny. It’s not technically prohibited. But she would feel pressured. I can’t do that. 

“Actually, Harry” her voice cracks a little and I want to look at her but I know she’s nervous so I don’t “I do have a question. Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything, Sorry.” 

“It... It has nothing to do with the practice, though.” 

“It doesn’t?” Now this is interesting. 

I finally turn my body towards her so that I’m facing her and encourage her to ask me. If she asks for my number I’ll give it to her, but I don’t think she will. 

“Mmm... Can I ask how old are you?” 

I don’t want to tell her and that’s when I notice all my attempts at trying not to be attracted to her have failed. Her skin is so soft and she smells so good, like sweet vanilla, I bet she tastes sweet too. Fuck, I’m doing it again and I’m looking at her breasts. Fuck me. 

“I’m 27.” 

She smiles and I don’t know what that means. I want to ask her but we need to call the last patient. 

“Miss Asvenson.” I smile. 

She nods and stands up from her chair but before she opens the door I ask her. 

“And you?” 

We look into each other’s eyes and I think we both know why we’re asking. She smiles. 

“21.” 

I nod. She’s legal everywhere in the world. 

[mamaskillerqueen]

Maybe an imagine with Ben where the reader's brother teaches him gow to play the drums for BoRhap and the reader is at her brothers house and Ben kinda falls head over heels for her but thinks that she's actually the girlfriend and not the sister? 🙊

A/N: Okay, so I have a big brother who is my literal best friend. We’ve been through a lot and so we’re pretty tight. Unfortunately, our ages are pretty close together and we don’t look much alike, so this has been an actual problem on several occasions. This was so fun to write, I hope you enjoy it!

“Are you for real right now?!”

“Oh come on!”

A knock on the door pulled your brother from your shared rant about the video game you were both currently playing. He had moved into this new place two months ago and was a bit further away than you were used to.

Growing up, even through all the sibling abuse, you were both really close. Not having him close by to chat to when your life was in shambles was a struggle. He always gave the best advice and so you often found your self crashing on his couch on weekends.

As he got up to answer the door, expecting someone for some drumming lessons, you switched the game to single player. He was always higher ranked than you and it left him better off. This weekend you had been determined to catch up.

“Y/N, we’ll be over here with the drums. Do you mind checking on the coffee then?”

Your brother was probably the biggest enabler of your coffee addiction and almost always had a fresh pot brewing. After the ridiculously late night of travelling here, coffee was just what you needed this morning. Quick to make sure you weren’t going to be loading into a match, you jumped up from your seat to bounce into the kitchen.

“You got it!”

When you rounded the corner of the couch though you came face to face with a set of gorgeous green eyes. He offered a slight smile and you couldn’t help but return it.

“Would you like some coffee too?”

Always the hostess, as your brother was horrible at it. When the blond beginning drummer nodded his head you headed towards the kitchen to fetch some coffee.

Why your brother thought the dinning room was a great place for his drum kit, you’d never know. But when you had three mugs filled with the delicious beverage you headed into the room. The men were talking animatedly about music and you didn’t want to interrupt.

“Ben, right?”

The man turned, his cheeks a bit flushed, probably from passionately discussing music. With a smile you handed off his coffee.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you liked it. I left everything on the counter in the kitchen though.”

“Thank you.”

You handed off your brothers coffee and with a quiet ‘I’ll leave you to it’, you went back to the game.

You could feel eyes on you but you decided to ignore it as you slipped the headset back on and continued on your mission of levelling up.

Ben’s POV

Roger. Fucking Taylor.

He just landed the role of Roger Taylor. Without knowing how to play the drums. Panic was quick to set in after the initial elation. He enlisted the help of a few of his friends and tracked down a reputable player who was willing to teach.

Excitement and anxiety was expected, and was exactly how he felt the whole way to his new teacher’s house. He knew music, played the guitar and often himself writing songs without much thought. Drums were intimidating though. One small mess up on the drums and the timing of the whole song is off.

What he didn’t expect was his teacher’s girlfriend to be there, or for her to be so damn beautiful. It had definitely taken him off guard and he was hoping that he wasn’t too obvious in his checking her out. This was the role of a lifetime and he couldn’t mess it up because he found some girl attractive.

When she left to make coffee, it was easier to get sucked up in the conversation of music. It had been years of learning the structure of songs and passion behind writing lyrics but he’d never had anyone to discuss it with. Having the chance to was incredible and he almost completely forgot about the girl his teacher called Y/N.

And then she handed him coffee. There was something about her eyes that pulled him in, something he felt like he couldn’t resist. He wouldn’t make a move, that would be horrible but, it didn’t make the pull any weaker. Her walking away was probably the best thing to happen since he stepped in the door.

The rest of the lesson went on without an incident, his mind filling with notes and tempos and pacing. He didn’t have time to think about her, or the fact that she was just in the other room. It wasn’t until the lesson was over that he was forced to come face to face with her again.

Y/N’s POV

You were more than thankful for the noise cancelling headset but even with them on, and the gaming running, you couldn’t quite help but get sucked into the lesson happening behind you. No matter how much you were going pretend like it wasn’t the case, you were definitely interested in this actor that was suddenly taken with drumming.

In the midst of trying to pay as much attention to the task at hand in game, you felt something hit you in the head.

“Hey bitch, c’mere!”

You pulled the headset off your head, glaring at your brother who had a huge grin on his face. Mischief written all over his face made you skeptical as you rose from the chair you were in.

“What do you want, jerk?”

“Hang out with Ben while I run upstairs real quick.”

With a roll of your eyes you leaned against the dining table, motioning towards the stairs so your brother would go do whatever it was he needed to. When your eyes landed on Ben you noticed the wide eyed look he had and almost laughed. You could only imagine what was happening in his head. Your brother disappeared, taking the steps two at a time. 

“How’d the first lesson go?”

A casual tone was what you were going for but you honestly weren’t sure if that was even close to what it sounded like. Lucky for you, Ben didn’t seem to notice. His eyes blinked a few times pretty quickly, like he was pulling himself from an inner monologue.

“It was good, really good. Learned a lot. Thank you for letting me come into your home and practice.”

“Oh, this isn’t my home. So, you know, you’re welcome anytime.”

His brow pulled together for a split second but then he chuckled along with you. Having experienced this situation more than once you finally caught on to what was clearly happening.

“I’m just visiting for a few days. Haven’t my jerkface of a brother in a few weeks so, you know, had to come pester him. Little sister duty and all.”

“Sister?”

He clearly didn’t mean to say that out loud but you couldn’t help but laugh again as you nodded your head.

“Sister.”

“Huh.”

He was quite for a while, far longer than you were comfortable with. The silence stretched on and made you shift your weight against the table you were leaning against, your arms crossing over your chest. His eyes were unfocused, like he was lost in thought and so you just awkwardly looked around the room. 

What the hell was your brother even doing?

“So, as the sister, I’d still be able to get lessons if I asked you out on a date?”

Your head snapped up from the spot on the floor that had become incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?”

“You don’t think he’d make me find another teacher if I asked you out on a date?”

It took a moment and then a smile quickly took over your face, maybe you had read the whole situation correctly afterall.

“No, he definitely wouldn’t make you find another teacher. As little sister, I’d just got tell mum.”

This got you a laugh, one so melodious you were sure it could be the perfect hit single. Top of the charts. The only thing to beat it was when he actually asked a moment later. It wasn’t until all the details were figured out, and phone numbers were exchanged that your brother finally made an appearance. It was almost like he was just sitting at the top of the steps waiting.

He handed over a pair of drumsticks to Ben, siting that they were far superior to any other. You suspected he was lying, but you didn’t say anything other than a goodbye to Ben. When the door clicked behind his exit you turned to your brother with a raised brow and a shake of your head.

“You are such an idiot.”

“Hey now, I just got you a date! Shut it.”

[wickedmilo]

THE BETTER HAWKEYE | MILO & ORION

PLACE: Outside the University of Maine TIMING: 12:39 AM SUMMARY: Milo runs into Orion and, after not seeing each other in over a month, the two manage to reconnect. WRITING PARTNER: @3starsquinn CONTENT WARNINGS: Addiction, alcohol, drug abuse

Milo had always been the type to wander at night, but usually he had a goal in mind. There was always a dealer to meet, a club to go to, a stranger he could go home with. Now, he wandered the streets because he could. Because during the day he was confined to the house, itching to do something, for the sense of freedom he used to have. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly melancholy, he walked past Tower Comics, thinking about the excuses he was going to give his boss when he was ready to return to work. And now he was outside his old college building, staring up at the structure, remembering what it felt like to walk through the doorway, and into a class. Usually late, usually smelling of pot, always with a coffee in his hands. Sparking up a cigarette, he leaned against the brick wall behind him, observing the college from across the quiet street. There was nobody around at this time, despite all of the lights being on. And it was weirdly comforting to reminisce.  

It didn’t take very long for him to be drawn from his memories, though, as a familiar figure began to make his way down the entryway steps. Orion, he would recognise him anywhere. They had attended school together, though Orion had been far too shy to make his acquaintance back then. It was only after getting a job at the comic book store that they really began to get to know each other. His colleagues used to tease him endlessly about the boy’s very obvious crush. But as far as he was concerned, it was pretty harmless. Orion had never once made a move, and he didn’t exactly seem the type. He missed their conversations, he missed the routine of work. Although he had never been one to keep to a schedule, having somewhere to hang out and talk to people away from the nightlife of the town had been nice. He enjoyed it. Pushing away from the wall, it was probably a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself from crossing the road. He was feeling relatively mellow. With a handful of pills in his system, freshly fed thanks to Harsh and his generous supply of blood bags, he was in control. He wasn’t a danger. “Hey!” He called, exhaling a breath of smoke. “You do know they don’t give you extra credit for studying in the middle of the night?”  

Some time out of the house would do Orion some good. Following his most recent meltdown, he stayed at the campus library until the sun had fallen. The place was popular for all nighters with college students. He had done his own on multiple occasions, or at the very least used it as an excuse when he was trying to avoid his family. When he finally left the building it was with books tucked beneath his arm and the smell of rain in the air. Incoming rain it smelled like. That, and cigarette smoke. But aside from that, Rio didn’t tell there was another person around at all until the voice called out and scared the crap out of him. He jumped, one of the books slipping through his arm and falling to the ground. “Jesus. Sorry. Hey.” Rio breathed, bending down to grab the book and not even bothering to check who the person was saying hi to him. His cheeks flushed when he finally turned and saw Milo. “Oh. Woah. Hey! It’s been awhile.” Milo had been a familiar and friendly face at the comic book shop. One that Rio remembered fondly from high school even though the two never spoke. He also remembered how flustered he had always been trying to have a conversation with the boy at the comic book shop post graduation. He could remember just how awkward those first few discussions had been until Rio started to get a bit too passionate about the history of comic books. The only thing that could overcome his bad habit of crushing on any guy that was nice to him was how much he loved nerding out over things. 

Luckily for both of them, Rio was a bit less flustered around boys than he used to be. “Ha ha. Very funny. I focus better at night.” Rio shrugged as an explanation. It wasn’t technically a lie, although on this particular night he was just using it as an excuse so he didn’t have to go home. “I haven’t seen you at Towers recently. Do you still work there?” 

Milo felt a wave of guilt when Orion dropped one of his books. He had forgotten how easily flustered he could be. Before he was able to reach down and pick it up, Orion had it securely back under his arm, so he offered him a sheepish grin instead. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he admitted, his version of an apology. He watched, incredibly amused, as his company realised who he was talking to. Taking a drag from his cigarette, he blew the smoke away from where they were standing. “Yeah, I guess it kind of has.” It made him sad sometimes, to remember the simplicity of before. His life had always been turbulent, and unpredictable. But through his own choice. He had still been in control. Tower Comics had been a brief escape from the never ending cycle of getting high, and coming down. He showed up, he stood behind the counter, he sold comics. It was too easy. A quiet laugh escaping him at the mention of being able to focus at night, it felt too relatable given his current circumstance. “Things got a little… weird, for a while.” Like that wasn’t a ridiculous understatement, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say.  

“I, uh- I don’t actually know.” Did he still work there? It had been over a month since he last showed up for a shift, but his boss had always managed to tolerate his bullshit. Missing shifts wasn’t unusual for him. Neither was arriving late for them, sometimes he even left early, slinking away when nobody was around to stop him. He had a feeling if he walked in with an apology and an explanation, he would be able to keep his job. “It’s been like... a month, which is probably not great. But they’ll let me back. I mean- I hope they’ll let me back. Why?” He asked. “Are you still stopping by? Have you been missing me?” He was teasing, but just barely. He genuinely missed Orion, and he liked to think the enjoyment of their conversations had been mutual.  

“It’s fine. I’m notoriously jumpy” Orion admitted with a small laugh. He would have thought that with all the training that he had been doing recently that he might get a bit less anxious. As it turned out, getting rid of that instinct wasn’t going to be easy. As if he needed any other reason to loathe his deceased parents. Now that he had composed himself, he got the chance to study Milo. Rio couldn’t remember how long it had been since the two had talked in the comic book shop, but he knew that it had been awhile. Something about him seemed… different. Physically, he didn’t appear to look very different than he had at Towers, but something was definitely different. Just as Rio was a lot different despite the relatively small change to him physically. Rio’s bleached blonde hair was gone, but he was still stick thin. His baggy hoodie also hid any new muscle definition his training had afforded. “Weird?” Rio questioned. He had an entire list of theories of what Milo might mean by that. This town had no shortage of weird things. But maybe against all odds, Milo’s troubles were completely mundane and non supernatural. “Sorry to hear that. Are things uh- getting better?” 

“Fingers crossed for you. The guy that owns the place seems pretty nice, right?” He had no idea what may contribute to disappearing from work for a month, but he didn’t exactly know Milo that well. The two had been friendly enough at the comic book store, but the friendship hadn’t exactly extended outside of there. “Well I don’t get to rant about comics with anyone else in the store, so yeah for sure. I missed having you to chat to.” Though Rio didn’t go there as much anymore, he had stopped there a few times over the last month or so. Admittedly, Rio had been going there less and less for far longer than a month. While dating Winston, the two stayed busy working at the Scribrary or hanging out with their friends. After Winston left town, Rio had thrown himself into his work. “I drop in when I can! I’ve been busy lately, so I haven’t been able to go as much. But if I knew you were going back I’d definitely try to swing by more often.” He cringed at his own statement. “What have you been up to? Outside of Towers, I mean.” 

Milo continued to smile, feeling a strange sense of affection for his friend. Seeing him outside of the comic book store was a rare occurrence, but it was comforting to know while his life had become so new, and disorientating, it had carried on as usual for other people. The world was still spinning, Orion was still buying comics. Things were going to be okay. Shifting uncomfortably on the spot as Orion observed him, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was being read. In the same way his mom always knew when he was on something, or under the influence, before he had even said a word to her, maybe Orion could see somehow that he had changed. “Yeah,” he laughed, only a hint of bitterness lacing the sound. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he tapped ash absentmindedly. “Really fucking weird.” He admitted. “Don’t be sorry, though. S’not like it’s your fault.” He caught his company’s eye again, showing him his sentiment was sincere. “I mean- I think so?” It was hard to gauge, when everything was still so fresh. But now that Harsh was helping him, now that he had someone there, he didn’t feel so lost. The hopelessness that had been weighing down on him wasn’t quite as heavy as it used to be. “Yeah… yeah, they are.”  

His smile growing at the mention of his boss, he nodded, reaching up to push his hair back away from his face. “He’s pretty chill, I don’t think he’ll mind too much if I just, you know… say I’m sorry.” He knew taking responsibility wasn’t something he was good at, but hopefully his boss would be able to see he was serious this time. This absence wasn’t his fault. “Oh, yeah? Well I’m here now if you need to ramble. Immortal Hulk is still going, right? I don’t suppose you’re caught up?” Raising his eyebrows, he knew it would be unfair to openly tease Orion for his comment, but he couldn’t resist the flirtatious expression. What harm could it do? “So, what you’re saying is I’m the best thing about Tower?” He laughed easily, offering a casual shrug. What have you been up to outside of work shouldn’t be such a loaded question. But how was he supposed to answer? Oh, I died, found out the world I thought I lived in was very much not the world I was living in. Developed a mad craving for blood, hurt one of my closest friends when she randomly decided she wanted to kill me, then shacked up with another vampire who realised I had no idea what was going on… “I’ve, uh- I’ve been around.” He muttered, dropping his cigarette to the floor, grinding it beneath his shoe as an excuse to avoid eye contact. “You?”  

Orion’s brow furrowed as he considered his best course of action. There was still a chance that Milo’s definition of weird was vastly different from Rio’s. “Right. Yeah I know, it’s just- it still sucks. And I’m sorry that it sucks.” Rio rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. At the very least, Milo confirmed that things were getting better. That had to be a plus. If nothing else, there was something positive. He was tired of things only getting worse. He needed to know that things really did get better for some people in this town. “Well I know that we aren’t like uh- you know super close or whatever. But if you ever want to talk about the weird stuff, I’m a great listener.” He hoped that Milo could pick up on the differences between Rio then and Rio now. Back then Rio was far too flustered and infatuated to ever be able to sustain a genuine friendship. He wasn’t nearly as hopeless as he used to be when it came to making friends.  

“Oh! Yeah I think it’s still going. I started it, but I’m behind right now. The series is really interesting, even though I’ve never cared much for Hulk comics. Right now I’m following Strange Academy pretty closely. It has a lot of like, Young Avengers or X-Men school energy. And I’ve always been a sucker for the teen or young adult superhero groups! I’m hooked.” It was comforting to see how easily he was able to slip back into conversation with Milo. Rio groaned at Milo’s very pointed comment. “Well maybe I’m saying you were” Rio laughed, imagining how he would have reacted a year ago if Milo had made the same comment in the store, “Until you disappeared. Now it has to be like the gaming tournaments or something. And I don’t even participate.” With his incredibly vague response, Rio was all but convinced that something very supernatural had occurred in Milo’s life. Teetering the line between nosy and understanding, Rio kept his mouth shut. The two ran into each other out of luck, not exactly the ideal scenario for either to be spilling their secrets to each other. “Me? Well my friend moved out of town and left me in this giant house by myself. So I’ve basically been a hermit for the past two months. So my life is very, very boring.” 

Milo hadn’t been expecting such a genuine apology, it caught him off guard. It was very clear that, despite not being incredibly close, Orion cared about him, and it hit him that he cared about Orion in return. It was strange how easily somebody could become a fixture in your life, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. He felt his throat close, as he fought to suppress whatever emotion was attempting to overwhelm him. It would be embarrassing to explain why he was suddenly choked up. He refused to become the person who cried every time they were offered a shred of kindness. “Thank you…” He said, his voice quiet. He wondered whether it was obvious how touched he was by the sincerity. “That, uh- that means a lot.” Unable to stop a sudden laugh from escaping him, he shook his head, falling back into his usual demeanour. “No, honestly-  you don’t want to hear it. I’d only sound fucking insane, and I kind of brought it on myself, anyway...” Brushing off the comment, he jumped at the chance to talk about comic books. This was an easy subject, this was something he knew.  

“Hm, I’ve heard good things about Strange Academy. Do you know who’s doing the artwork? I know how fucking basic this is but I kind of miss seeing Skottie Young, his variants are always insane.” Grinning, his eyes shining with mischief, he couldn’t help feeling genuinely flattered by Orion’s admission. Not many people saw him as anything more than a waste of potential. It felt good to just be Milo, the kid in Tower Comics who enjoyed making conversation. “I knew it.” He teased. “I’m going to assume the past tense is because I’ve been gone for a month, and not because you’ve changed your mind.” Nodding at the mention of gaming tournaments, he tried to remember whether he had ever attended one. He wasn’t the type to be drawn into the world of comic cons, and gaming. He enjoyed comics because, as far as he was concerned, they were a form of literature. Any extension of that enjoyment never quite managed to capture his attention. “Well, I’d hate for you to settle. I’ll be back soon…” He knew it wasn’t a promise he could make, but he so wanted the statement to be true. “And then your very, very boring life will maybe be a little less boring again.”

Whether it was the scholar in Orion or the side of him that desperately wanted to be better friends with Milo, he absolutely did want to hear more about whatever had been happening in his life. But he also knew enough from his own experiences avoiding a topic that Milo didn’t want to dive into it right now. “Of course. And seriously, anytime. I may be easily panicked but I’m slightly less easily surprised.” That may not exactly be the truth, but when it came to the supernatural it was becoming more and more true. “No pressure or anything. The offer stands for whenever.”  

This definitely didn’t seem like the time though. Instead, Rio enjoyed the comic conversation instead. “Good question. I don’t actually. It looks familiar though I’m sure they’ve done other stuff. I’ll have to look it up.” Rio made a mental note to do some research on it in the morning. “Oh yeah I totally get that! He’s great! I’ve always been a big fan of Jimmy Cheung, but it may just be because of how much I love the Young Avengers. Which I’m sure is annoyingly obvious so I won’t shut up about them.” Nor did he ever plan to. He loved those comics. Loved the idea of rebelling against their parents and the adults trying to hold them back from doing what they thought was right. It resonated with Rio in a way that he was always too cowardly to do for himself. Well, until he murdered his parents apparently.  

“Okay, okay. I admit it. Don’t let it go to your head though.” Rio smiled and raised his hands in surrender of the information. This was all… good. It was nice to be able to hold an actual conversation with him outside of comic books for once. “Well I’ll be on the lookout for that. And maybe sometime we could also do something that wasn’t in a comic book shop too? Like hang out or something?” Rio found himself asking, surprising himself by the suggestion. “In a purely platonic way of course. I mean uh- I don’t like still have a massive crush on you or anything. So this is not me like making a move or whatever.” He sighed, only realizing after that he had basically just admitted to his Milo that pre-Winston, Rio had a crush on the guy. “Not that I ever had a crush! Unless it was super obvious. But even if it was, please for the love of god forget that this last part ever happened.” Jesus. 

Endeared by Orion’s explanation, Milo made a mental note. Maybe he couldn’t tell his friend everything, but it would be nice having somebody he could confide in about certain struggles, even if he did need to be somewhat vague about them. “Maybe, one day…” He offered Rio a warm smile, making it very clear that he meant what he was saying. He wanted to, it just wasn’t quite that easy. Glad of the subject change, he focused on the conversation, thinking back on whether he had ever taken in the name of the artist. “Oh, Cheung is awesome! Whenever I want to imagine what a character would look like for real, I go to his work.” Laughing when Orion mentioned talking endlessly about the Young Avengers, he tried to convey with his expression just how much he enjoyed that fact. It was never an annoyance, hearing someone speak so passionately about the thing they loved. “Definitely not. You could never annoy me.” He insisted, not trusting Orion to accept the sentiment. “See, I’m more of a Jekyll and Hyde kind of guy, maybe that’s why I’m drawn to the Hulk. It’s one of my all time favourite tropes, you know?” Maybe if he took the time to dissect why, he could talk about how he related to the internal struggle, the constant battle between desire and a need to be in control. But that struggle had become much more real to him recently, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he had never been ready to talk about such a personal observation.

“Oh no, it’s too late. It’s gone to my head.” He continued to tease. Raising his eyebrows, he wasn’t expecting the invitation, but he was incredibly grateful to receive it. Any relationships he had cherished before being turned had basically been burned to the ground. He wasn’t sure how to navigate them now. This was a welcome reminder that it was possible, that he could still have friends. Distracted by the blush creeping to Orion’s cheeks, it was the first time since approaching him that he considered the blood coursing through his veins. His skin was flushed, he could hear his heartbeat. It was difficult to ground himself, but he managed. Turning his head away from the direction the wind was blowing, he made an active effort to avoid his scent. As quickly as he had begun to feel normal, any semblance of normalcy was stolen from him. But he refused to get caught up in bitterness, not when he was so close to reclaiming a piece of his old life. Taking a hesitant step backwards, he attempted to frame the movement as casual, carefully fixing a grin back into place. He was genuinely amused by what he was hearing, everything was just so difficult. “Maybe not super obvious.” He assured his company. “But my colleagues might have pointed it out to me.” It was his turn to hold up his hands, more than willing to grant the request. “Already forgotten. And I would seriously love to. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything. I mean, even this is just… a relief. I guess that sounds dumb. I just- I really fucking missed this.” 

Though the conversation was sidelined, Orion grinned at the thought that there was more to Milo’s story. A book that hadn’t completely closed. Rio wasn’t sure that there was a friendship outside of Towers. That it was just a worker passing his workday by humoring the awkward gay kid with a crush on him. Rio was thrilled to learn that was not the case. Or not entirely at least. So the conversation about his mysterious weird experience would be shelved for another time. “I’m so glad that we agree on Jim Cheung’s superiority. I would have given anything to be like Kate Bishop. She was like, the coolest comic book character ever.” He spent a lot of time wishing he was more like Kate Bishop, though her entire character’s premise didn’t fit perfectly. The imperfect family, sure. But Kate’s entire strength was that she was the only non-powered person on an otherwise super team, temporary status of Eli Bradley notwithstanding. Rio’s own super abilities, wanted or not, sort of ruined that desire. He still wished he was as confident as she was. “Ooh! Yes that’s a fascinating trope! Fun fact, Robert Louis Stevenson was actually inspired to write the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde while he was trying to work on a play about an actual person named William Brodie. Apparently this guy, William was like a big figure in his town. City council and all that jazz, but ended up being outed as a thief. Robert was fascinated by how someone who had such a clean public image could do such terrible things.” Rio was partly staring up at the sky now as he rambled on about the history of a book that was already a couple hundred years old. He could tell that the rain was about to start. Compliments of the super senses he couldn’t forget about. “Sorry I uh- get passionate about random history things.” 

Rio tried to fake a serious tone, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh god, I created a monster. You’re never going to let that go are you? You know, I’m sure there’s plenty of other employees at Towers that I could go and annoy.” As much as Rio was enjoying the positive energy, he couldn’t help his face from heating up at openly talking about his old crush. “Oh god. You said that way too nicely. It was definitely super obvious.” Rio sighed. His face was on fire now, and he could only imagine the bright shade of red his cheeks must be. “Thank you for taking pity on me. Because I desperately need this too. I’m very tired of sitting in my house doing nothing all day.” 

“Kate Bishop, huh?” Milo echoed. He had definitely heard Orion talk about her before but hearing about his favourite characters always intrigued him. He had such a way of explaining himself, he could say the same sentence over and over and Milo was fairly certain he would listen regardless. “Poor Barton, just brushed to the side.” He teased, his eyes shining. He didn’t know an awful lot about Kate and her backstory, but more than once he had been flicking through a comic book, only to stumble upon a mention of trying to please an emotionally distant father. Boy, did he know what that felt like. His father hadn’t been absent. In fact, he had many memories of playing catch as a child, of being read bedtime stories, and baking on the days designed for them both to spend time together. But Oliver Summers had never talked about his feelings, and had always made his expectations incredibly clear. The moment his son was able to read on his own, he was expected to. The moment he was able to study on his own, he was expected to. The moment he could fend for himself, cook his own meals, do his own research, he was expected to. It was academia, and independence above all else. And now that he was officially off the rails, he had grown all too familiar with his stern disappointment, shame and frustration often simmering below his carefully arranged expression. “Bishop is pretty cool though, I’ll allow it.” Falling silent again, he recognised the look on Orion’s face and knew he was about to learn something. At the very least, hear about something interesting.  

He could vaguely remember covering the topic at university, but he had been in and out of his classes. Incredibly unreliable, and incredibly not sober. Which made the information feel fresh, and exciting. “Don’t apologise for being passionate.” He hated to think anybody ever made Orion feel bad for sharing the subjects he enjoyed, even if that person was Orion himself. “People are complicated… it’s fascinating, really. I guess you never really know a person’s motivations. Not unless they outright break them down for you.” Grinning suddenly at the choice of phrase, the irony wasn’t lost on him. They were talking about monsters within literature, but hadn’t he also kind of already become one in real life? He would usually wallow in that, but with Orion it felt easy to see the humour. “Maybe you have.” He admitted, mischief lacing his tone. “And no, I am definitely not. You’ve already confirmed I’m the most interesting employee, so if you want to go and bore yourself with the others then I guess I can’t really stop you.” It was impossible not to notice how flushed Orion was, his skin pink with embarrassment as a quiet sigh escaped him. But there was just enough distance between them both for his friend not to feel like a temptation. The last thing he would ever want to do is hurt somebody he cared about. “I’m not taking pity on you, moron. I want to hang out.” He insisted. “And not many people describe me as nice, so I’ll take it. Thank you for the compliment.” He felt guilty for being pleased to hear Orion spent so much of his time alone, but it only justified his decision. He could spend more time with Orion because Orion wanted company. And, Vampire or not, where was the harm in that? 

Orion only shrugged in response to Milo's question about Barton, “Hey Kate said it best herself when she called herself the better Hawkeye. She wouldn’t lie.” The first drop of rain hit against Rio’s forehead. It ran down his face, a welcome drop of cold against the burning skin. He could just barely hair the sounds of droplets hitting against the pavement now. It didn’t seem like it would start pouring right away, but the rain would probably only get heavier from here. In preparation, Rio slid his bag off of his back and opened it, revealing even more books stuff inside. It was a tight squeeze trying to get the books previously held under his arm in. He was just barely able to zip the bag up. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would protect against the lighter rain until the conversation with Milo faded. Rio wasn’t in much of a rush to leave right now.  

“Right. Sorry. I’ve been told I over apologize too. Example A, two seconds ago.” Rio had found a decent group of people that had embraced or encouraged his sometimes overbearing passion for history, but each time still came as a surprise. He was used to passive annoyance. A feigned interest in the topic before all too intentionally taking an opportunity to change the subject. But he finally knew people that didn’t do that. He really liked those people. He was just glad Milo was one of those people. “No. Not at all. People always surprise you.” Rio agreed a little too aggressively, eyebrows rising in unison with his emphasis. Hunters were a perfect example of this. Trained to kill, taught to blend in. Some were just better at it than others. “I’m totally going to regret telling you that” Rio rolled his eyes and wiped away at the stream of water running down his face from the rain. “Okay, okay. You don’t have to get all defensive about it. We’ll hang out then. I’m looking forward to it!”  

Milo laughed, he couldn’t really argue with Kate Bishop herself. And though he hadn’t actually read very many of the Hawkeye comics, it was clear Orion knew what he was talking about. “Okay, okay, you win. Kate is the best Hawkeye.” He surrendered, feeling the first drops of rain begin to hit his skin. Glancing up at the night sky, the clouds were dark, and thick. The water was as cool as the night air, and it was a welcome sensation, but he had a suspicion it might be the start of a downpour. He knew it was unfair, expecting Orion to feel the same way about the weather, but he didn’t want to leave just yet. He watched patiently as his friend did his best to save his books, wincing a little as he considered just how heavy his bag must be. “Are you apologising for apologising?” He asked, raising his eyebrows with a quiet smile. “Come on, which way were you walking?” He readied himself to start moving again, absentmindedly brushing down his hoodie before forcing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s get you out of the rain, I refuse to be responsible for your shit getting ruined, and it’s getting cold.”

Waiting to be given a direction, he mulled over what Rio was telling him. As far as he was concerned, he had always been incredibly predictable. His parents always knew how and when he was next going to screw up. As a Human, when he disappeared, Dani always, always knew how to find him. “Maybe some people.” He said finally. “I don’t think I’ve ever surprised anyone.” Offering an easy grin, he hoped his warm expression might be enough to take back the insult, he so often forgot not everybody was used to his humour. It wasn’t as though he could call people names while he was working, and he had only ever spoken to Orion at work. “You won’t regret it, don’t worry. I’m not that mean. And an insult from me is a compliment, I swear. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just excited-” It felt ridiculous to admit, but it was undeniably true. “I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while, so…” Anyone regular, anyway. “It’s good to see you. I mean it, Rio...” 

“It was barely even a fair fight. Hawkguy never stood a chance.” Orion laughed. Talking about stuff like this was one of the few times he seemed to excel, or at the very least accomplish, at normal conversation. He missed being able to just talk and laugh and even joke without spending the entire conversation constantly second guessing every single word before he even said them. “That’s uh- Kate starts calling him that when they start working together. Since they’re both Hawkeye.” Rio picked the bag up and swung it back over his shoulder with relative ease, tucking his arms through the straps. “I’m pleading the fifth on that one.” Rio shrugged, but began walking with Milo. He wasn’t sure why Milo thought he needed an escort to his car parked around the corner of the library, but he assumed that it was probably the same reason that everybody assumed Rio needed an escort or a protein shake or regular exercise. But like with most hunters, even Rio was an example of how looks could be deceiving. Most people didn’t peg the sickly looking gay frail kid as the one that could rip a car door off. “For the record, it’s not your fault at all. I’ve been doing a great job ruining my… stuff all on my own.” 

Walking towards his car, Rio spun and walked backwards to look at Milo. He wasn’t sure what Milo meant by that. That he had never surprised anyone. He supposed it could have just been an offhand comment that didn’t require much digging into. But something about it seemed incredibly sad. Rio started to consider his own stakes on the word. In a way, Rio had tried his whole life to be as unsurprising as possible. He had wanted to blend in, be a good person and fly mostly under the radar. He supposed that same tactic would backfire though. It was only more surprising when someone found out he was a hunter now. “You surprised me like twenty minutes ago. Like genuinely scared the crap out of me. Not that that’s super hard to do.” Rio laughed, but hoped it helped at least a minimal amount, “I’m honestly surprised you even like, came up and talked to me tonight. So there you go. First time for everything.” Rio’s foot caught on something on the ground and he almost tripped, stumbling backwards a few times before righting himself. That’s what he got for trying to walk backwards and talk. They got to the mostly empty parking lot and Rio lead Milo to his car, “Welp. Here we go. I uh- yeah. Same here. I could use a friend right now so…” Rio pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Milo, “Want to put your number in? So we can plan a hang out. Or text or whatever.”  

Milo smiled, listening to Orion as he continued to talk about Kate Bishop, and Clint Barton. It was obvious to anyone how his demeanour changed when he was talking about something that he genuinely loved, and he sincerely hoped he wasn’t the only person to appreciate that. “Maybe I should make more of an effort to get into Hawkeye.” He admitted. When… if he was allowed back to the comic book store, it would be the first thing on his to-do list. “Wouldn’t it be easier to take up a new mantle at that point?” He asked, trying to imagine working with somebody else named Milo without things descending into confusion. It didn’t go unnoticed just how easily Orion swung the bag over his shoulder, but he chose not to comment. He wasn’t about to embarrass him, not after his admission. Maybe he was right, maybe people really did have a way of surprising you. His smile faltering momentarily, he had a feeling there was a lot more to the words than Rio was letting on, though he brushed them off. If he wanted to elaborate then he would. “Exactly, so you don’t need my help.”  

Following his friend to where he could only assume his car was parked, he moved slowly, allowing Orion to face him walking backwards. The rain was falling with a little more persistence, but there was nowhere near enough water to soak them through. Pushing his damp hair back away from his face, he caught Rio’s eye with an easy laugh, oddly touched by the sentiment. “I guess that’s true, you know… I can’t argue with you on that one.” It wasn’t quite the same, but it felt like enough. “I do like you.” He insisted. “I’d jump at any excuse to talk to you, you don’t know how boring my shifts used to be when you didn’t show up to see me.” His step faltering as Orion stumbled backwards, the boy righted himself before he even had the chance to fully react. “If you were hoping I was going to catch you and sweep you off of your feet, you need to be a good 2 yards closer.” He teased, as they finally came to a halt in the near-empty parking lot. Accepting the phone gratefully, he hurried to plug in his number. Mainly in an attempt to keep the device out of the rain, but also because it felt good to have a contact, he wanted Orion to have a way of reaching him. Handing it back, he pulled his carton of cigarettes from his pocket, ready to light one for the begrudging walk home. Harsh was probably wondering where he was. “I guess, I’ll- uh… I’ll see you around then?” 

Orion had often wondered that same thing about the Hawkeye issue. Though he supposed it did change a bit depending on how far someone dived into the character. “Great question. I actually think in some of the comics that Kate Bishop sort of drops the hawkeye name because she becomes a private detective instead. It’s a whole thing. But regardless, I’m interested in getting your thoughts on it!” He was mostly excited to have someone to talk comic books with again. 

There had been a surprising amount of honesty and sentiment in what had otherwise been a fairly comical conversation. With how bold Milo was being in his statements, Rio found it hard to focus. As the conversation about comics died down, so did Rio’s ability to talk apparently. But he had to try to force himself to not reverse back into his old habits. He wanted to be actual friends with Milo now. Not just a customer with a crush. “Uh-” Rio drug the word out for far too long before snapping back to focus, “Thanks. Same to you.” At least the cold air would help fight any further blushing. “Very funny, Milo. I am not that person anymore! I’m just a clumsy comic book nerd. Not a clumsy- uh- crushing comic book nerd.” Yikes. That wasn’t as smooth as he was hoping it would sound. “Anyways. Thanks again.” Rio said, opening his car door and tossing the bag of books across the center console and into the passenger seat. He was about to pull himself into the car when he turned back around. “It’s only going to rain harder. Probably, I mean. Do you have a car? If not I can give you a lift?” 

“I guess I have some reading to do.” Milo was becoming more determined by the second to pick up the Hawkeye comics. It wasn’t the first time Orion had managed to convince him to start a new series. “I can’t promise I’ll have anything interesting to say though. You’re way better at talking about this shit than I am.” Grinning as he waited for his friend to find his words, he hadn’t been expecting a joke about his crush. “Eh, two out of three aint bad.” He teased. “Though I am offended you got over me so quickly.” He added, the look on his face making it very clear he wasn’t being serious. He wanted to ask why he was being thanked, surely not for the compliments, but he didn’t want to draw attention to any potential lack of self esteem. That hardly seemed fair, and he could make it clear he genuinely enjoyed Orion’s company in other ways. It made him happy to think there would be opportunities in the future to spend time with him.  

Caught off guard by the sudden offer, he shifted awkwardly on the spot. He hadn’t been in a car since becoming a vampire, and it definitely didn’t feel smart to get in one now. Especially not with a human, somebody whose heart was beating, pumping blood through their veins that he could smell, even from where he was standing. “No,” he murmured finally, his voice melancholy as he remembered just how much he could no longer do. He had spent the better part of the past seven years saying yes to absolutely everything, taking risks without considering the consequences, walking headfirst into danger because if he told himself things would be fine then it became all too easy to believe. Now… for the first time in his life, he was being forced to think, to contemplate every action before making a decision. It went against every instinct he had, it wasn’t in his nature. But it was necessary to keep other people safe.  

“No, I’ll be okay. I’m not staying too far from here…” He absentmindedly sparked up his cigarette, needing something to do with his hands. “Thank you though.” Shooting Orion one last smile, he held his gaze, needing him to understand his sincerity. “It really was good to see you. Text me.” The moment the words left his mouth, he turned away. Before Orion could call out to him, or tell him to get in the car. Before he could change his mind and put anybody at risk. Before he could think too deeply on his new limitations, and what it felt like to say no. To have no choice. So much had been taken away from him, and wallowing in that fact had become a past time. Though, he realised, with a strange sense of clarity, he may have just gained a friend. It was this thought that carrying him, as he left Orion in the parking lot. This thought making the night feel a little less dark as he disappeared into the shadows. 

[izupie]

I’ve been writing a Reddie fantasy creature /  AU but I’ve got so far with it and I’m running out of steam, so instead of forcing it and not enjoying it, I’m just going to post what I’ve got so far ! I really enjoyed writing what I did though. One day I hope I’ll finish it and post it on AO3, but I might just stick it in a collection of unfinished stories at some point~

The idea was inspired by a prompt on Instagram and the old wives tale that cats can see ghosts - they say that when cats are looking really intensely at seemingly nothing, they’re really seeing a ghost. So each of the Losers would be a different fantasy creature, with Eddie being a cat that was a witch’s familiar, (but when they leave their witch they’re cursed with a human form to show that they’ve broken their commitment) and Richie’s a ghost that only he can see and touch. (He’s really just Actual Richie caught in the Deadlights, crossing partially over into another universe for a little while, which is why he’s all ghostly, but he has no memory of the world he’s come from, feels like the others are strangely familiar, and he can’t leave Mike’s bar.)

It was really self-indulgent (as all my AUs are) ahaha

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Eddie heaved a sigh as he all but fell onto the bar stool. It was a testament to how far he’d walked in the last few days, and how sick he was of camping, that he didn’t even care that the stool creaked noisily at his weight, and that his travelling cloak seemed to stick to the wood as he shuffled to try and make himself more comfortable. (To no success.) (No, his ass wasn’t bony, he was just going to blame it all on the terrible design of flat, hard seats that do nothing for either comfort or alignment of the spine.)

There was a man behind the bar, wiping a metal flagon with a rag, and Eddie desperately tried to not think of the rapid multiplication of bacteria within damp cloth. The bartender had long elven ears, dark skin, and an easy smile that he flashed at Eddie as he made his way over. His expression was open and friendly, and he said, “What can I get for you, traveller?”, in a deep, melodic tone of voice that made Eddie immediately want to offload his whole life story instead of what he wanted to drink. He thankfully managed to keep a lid on his lifetime of trauma and mistreatment and instead replied, “Glass of milk, thanks,” in what he hoped was the confidence of someone used to sitting in bars and ordering drinks and definitely wasn’t travelling alone for the first time in their life.

If he expected a reaction to ordering a glass of milk from a bar, he didn’t receive any, and the bartender just smiled and nodded. “Coming right up,” he said in his honey-smooth voice as he turned away.

Eddie pulled down the hood of his travelling cloak and sighed in relief as his pointed cat ears sprang free from beneath the material. He rummaged within the leather bag around his hip for a small bottle and pulled out the tiny cork with a satisfying pop. There wasn’t much of the potion left, he thought reticently, and the only witch he knew he’d left a long way back from here... But he had to keep his hands clean. Eddie frowned and his tail swished as he poured a few drops of the bright blue liquid onto his hands, then rubbed them vigorously before he stoppered the bottle once more and stowed it away again. The bartender still hadn’t returned yet, and nobody else seemed to be paying him any attention, so he licked his palms and drew them down the velvety soft fur on both of his ears. That felt better.

There were only five other customers that Eddie could see – all playing a game of cards around a large table in the corner of the room. The building wasn’t especially big, so he could hear snippets of their good-natured heckling to each other from his seat, with one voice significantly louder than the others. Eddie placed his elbows on the counter as he tried to get a better look at them – but he felt something wet and cold seep through the thin fabric of his cloak as soon as his elbow touched the surface, and he snatched his arm back with a soft hiss, flattening his ears and nearly losing his balance on the stool. He glared down at the wood, as if it had personally offended him, and then returned his attention to the others.

Only four of the five were sitting at the table with a hand of cards. Nearest to Eddie was a Satyr, judging by the dark brown furred goat legs and the two shining, curved horns on his head. He had neatly trimmed facial hair and wore an openly worried expression (he didn’t seem particularly good at bluffing). Next to him was a man sitting ramrod straight in his chair (good posture, Eddie noted) with sandy brown curly hair, looking shrewdly over his glasses at the rest of the group. Every so often two huge tawny coloured feathery wings would twitch behind him where they were folded in against his back. A woman next to him winked at the Satyr as she said something that Eddie didn’t catch, while her bright red hair flashed like a flame as she tilted her head back and laughed, revealing two long fangs. The only other male at the table gestured for quiet and examined his cards more carefully. He also had two horns on his head, protruding just under his greying hairline, but they were obsidian black, long and thin, and matched the thick scaly tail swishing back and forth across the floorboards while he thought. Eddie blinked in surprise. It was the strangest group he’d ever seen.

The only other person there chattered excitedly behind the Dragon and interrupted Eddie’s observations. He whistled loudly.

“Oh, Big Bill’s got an amazing hand. Nobody fall for his bluffs, he’s lying through his teeth. Guys, c’mon!” The guy gestured violently toward ‘Big Bill’s’ cards and moved around the table, peering closely at the others’ hands. “Stanley. Stanley. Do not let Bill walk out of this place with all this money again. For me.”

Eddie couldn’t believe that this guy was providing such an obnoxiously loud running commentary on the game, and yet nobody was reacting. He moved around the table and practically leant his chin on the Vampire’s shoulder as he loudly read out her hand, but she didn’t even blink. He stood back to his full height (Eddie realised that he was tall) and folded his arms across his chest (tall and broad) and he heaved a huge sigh as he watched the others. (Tall and broad and sad.) Only then did Eddie notice how strange his clothing was – he’d never seen a shirt that shade of bright blue before. And there were small pink birds patterned all over it too. His black hair was messy and unkempt, and he had such strange looking glasses on. Maybe he was from a different Kingdom?

The dragon slammed his hand down with a raucous cheer and Eddie’s attention returned to the game. The others threw their cards onto the table with groans of disappointment.

“I fucking told you all! Jesus. I can’t believe you fell for Bill’s bluffing again. Or maybe you’re all just bad at cards,” the strange man mused, “we all know Benny Boy can’t keep a straight face to save his life…” He continued ranting whilst the others chatted amongst themselves and threw down bags of coins that the dragon scooped towards himself.

“Sorry to keep you.” The bartender’s sudden return shocked Eddie enough to make him jump. His ears flattened against his skull and he willed the fur on his tail to lie flat again before anyone in the room noticed it bushed up. Eddie knew he was scowling, but the bartender just smiled pleasantly and placed a glass of white liquid in front of him. “Fresh milk,” he announced.

Eddie looked down at the milk, back up at the bartender’s smile, and considered the amount of time he’d been gone for. “Fresh… as in… fresh milk?”

“Can’t get any fresher.”

Eddie gagged and pushed the glass away. “Pass.”

The bartender laughed heartily. “I’m kidding. I don’t keep milk in the bar, but my cabin’s not far from here and I grabbed some out of the larder. It’s fresh, but it’s been sterilized, don’t worry.” There was a bright gleam to his eyes that melted away most of Eddie’s irritation, but his tail (no longer looking like he got struck by lightning) still swished a little angrily behind him.

He took a tentative sip, spurred on by thirst and an innate feeling that this elf was trustworthy, and sighed with relief at the cold creamy taste that slid deliciously down his throat. He grabbed a few coins out of his leather bag and placed them on the bar, making sure his fingers didn’t touch any of the mystery liquid that he’d accidentally dipped his elbow in before.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome, traveller. Hey, what’s your name anyway? Mine’s Mike.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes, took another sip of milk, and finally replied, “Eddie.”

“Well met, Eddie. Feel free to stay as long as you want, Maturin only knows I don’t get many visitors.” Mike went to move away but Eddie stopped him with a jerk of his head in the direction of the group in the corner.

“Hey, uh- interesting group over there.”

Mike smiled again, but this time it really tugged at the corners of his eyes. “They’re my favourite group of people in the whole of The Eight Kingdoms,” was all he said, as they rose from the table and made their way over. Which left Eddie just as clueless as before since his poor attempt at prompting hadn’t worked.

Mike laughed as they all took seats at the bar. “Don’t tell me, Bill won again.”

“Of course!” Bill crowed, his scaly black tail lifting into the air behind him. “If anyone can b-bl-bluff their way out of anything, it’s a writer. There was that whole m-m-murder mystery I wrote last year, set around a card game. I’ve been on a winning streak since th-then.”

“Ever humble, Big Bill!” The strangely dressed guy in the glasses laughed. “Yikes, man.”

“That means drinks are on Bill today,” the Vampire said, seemingly ignoring that comment, as she tapped the bar beside Eddie excitedly. “You want another, stranger? Bill’s paying with our hard-earned coin that he swindled from us.” She grinned and her fangs glinted in the candlelight.

“Uh…” Eddie started, unsure about the sudden acknowledgement of his presence.

“Sorry,” the Satyr said gently, in a pleasantly raspy kind of voice, “we get like this when we’re together.”

“Or some of us do anyway,” the man with the feathery wings added. The soft sound of rustling feathers followed his every movement as he took off his gold framed glasses. With his glasses off it made him look younger somehow, though his bird-like eyes were still piercing as he regarded Eddie with a slightly tilted head like a bird.

“I’m Ben,” the Satyr went on.

“-Sweet, sensitive Benny-Boy,” the glasses guy sighed.

“That’s Stan…”

“-My man, Stan the Man. Even if he could hear my jokes, he still wouldn’t laugh at them-”

“This is Bev…”

“-Nobody has the right to be this hot and not have a pulse-”

“And Bill.”

“-Good at everything in that kinda way that makes everyone want to follow everything he says, but also in the kinda way that makes me want to punch him in the face just a little bit.”

Eddie snorted an unexpected laugh and quickly tried to pass it off as a cough.

“Sorry- my name’s Eddie.”

At the chorus of ‘nice to meet you’s and ‘well met’s from the group Eddie was vaguely aware that the other man hadn’t been introduced at all, and that still nobody had reacted to any of his comments. Eddie couldn’t stop his eyes from glancing over, but he was already looking back, so their gazes locked for a second. Warmth sprang to his cheeks at the realisation he’d been caught. He pretended to cough again as he pointedly kept his eyes away, squirming in his seat with his embarrassment, and tried not to think about the confused expression he’d seen on the other man’s face as their eyes had met.

He focused on the realisation that none of them had drawn any attention to his cat ears. Although he’d already started figuring out that most of what Myra told him had been lies, it still stung to have it confirmed almost daily by every new experience. It was a sad, twisted truth that his own witch had been deliberately lying to him his whole life about everything.

He took another sip of milk and placed the glass back on the bar as he couldn’t help but let his attention wander back to the man from before, while the others all chattered and ordered drinks off Mike. His magnified dark eyes were opened wide behind his glasses as their gazes met again. Hadn’t he looked away at all? What was he staring at? His ears? Eddie’s tail twitched in a show of his irritation, wondering if he should take back everything he’d just been thinking. What was this guy’s deal? Well, if he was going to stare, so was he. Eddie defiantly lifted his chin and looked straight at him, willing him to make a comment. But the guy glanced around, as if checking there was nobody else around him that Eddie could be looking at. His eyes were still opened wide and his breathing sped up as he raised a slow and shaky hand to point to himself, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘…me?’. Eddie’s ears twitched and his own eyebrows pulled together sharply, as if to reply, ‘uh, yeah, who else?’.

“You can…” the guy started, then swallowed loudly and took a deep breath. “You can see me?”

Eddie felt something cold settle low in his gut, understanding beginning to finally dawn on him. “No,” he snapped.

“Holy fuck! You can see me!”

“No!” Eddie yelled loudly, jumping off the stool and hissing. “No, I can’t!”

“Yes you can! Yes you can! Holy shit! Fuck!”

“Eddie?” Mike asked gently. “Are you okay?”

The others looked at him warily, while Richie moved closer – seemingly caught somewhere between awe and relief.

“No- Yes! - I mean…”

Bill held his palms up as if calming a wild animal. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotta be kidding me that this is the one thing she didn’t lie about… how was I supposed to know… never thought I’d meet…”

“My name’s Richie!” the guy nearly yelled, excitement bursting out of his voice. “Richie Tozier. Hey look, you’ve gotta help me. This is insane,” he laughed wetly, and Eddie realised he was crying. “I can’t believe you can see me. I’ve waited so long to have somebody fucking, just, reply to me, man.”

(Can ghosts cry? Apparently so.)

“Eddie?” Mike repeated, as unaware as the others at the second half of the conversation that was going on.

The mood of the room had completely changed; the others were looking at him like Myra had always told him they would. A hot spike of shame ran through him and Eddie hissed softly at them, his ears lying flat. “I’m not bad luck.”

Bev shook her head, her expression sad. “Nobody said you are, honey, just calm down and tell us what’s going on.”

“You can see him, can’t you?” Stan spoke softly, but it cut through the chaos.

“Stan?! What the fuck, you can see me too?” Richie whirled on him and pointed an accusatory finger.

“You can see him too?” Eddie echoed.

“No. But I had my suspicions. Just, a voice I could hear sometimes. A glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eyes.” Stan ruffled his wings and folded his arms. “I figured this bar was haunted.”

“And you never said anything?” Richie wiped at his face. “I’ve been going crazy talking to everyone with absolutely nothing back this whole time and you knew I was here?”

“Wait, haunted? There’s someone else in the room?” Ben looked alarmed.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Mike looked between Eddie and Stan.

Eddie sighed and resisted the urge to massage his temples. “Cats can see ghosts,” he explained in a strained voice.

“Eddie here just became my new best friend, that’s what’s going on.” Richie sidled up to Eddie’s side so swiftly he didn’t have time to react before he had slung an arm over his shoulder.

Eddie hissed and ducked away but Richie was beaming. “You can feel me too?! Get back here! Hug me!”

“Not if you were the only ghost in the whole of the Eight Kingdoms!”

“So, there is a ghost?” Bill prompted.

“Can’t believe my bar’s haunted,” Mike mumbled.