#it's insane because you will go on about your day and then all of a sudden you'll think you have a gift for hatred youre the expert

[astonmartinii]

day seven: (christmas) star power | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem primary school!teacher

oh how one lie can spiral

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 204 others

yourusername: so ummmmmmm i pulled the short straw and am in charge of the school's nativity ??? AND THEN made a comment about my 'boyfriend' charles leclerc and now the whole school and WHOLE village think he is coming to the show ...

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yourbff: are you fucking dumb ???

yourusername: YES

yourbff: you told the headmaster that your boyfriend is CHARLES LECLERC ????

yourusername: i said it in JEST

yourusername: like ooohhhh my boyf charles

yourusername: and i guess that my framed picture of him on my desk definitely didn't help ...

yourbff: you have a framed picture of him on your desk...

yourusername: it was a christmas present from my cousin ���

yourbff: oh but why would you have it on your desk - you're a primary school teacher all those kids do is ask questions

yourusername: why are you VICTIM BLAMING SO MUCH

yourbff: because you're DUMB

yourbrother: oh they're gonna stone you when they figure out it's not true

yourusername: they should know it's not true ITS CHARLES LECLERC

yourbrother: so you're saying you couldn't just go to monaco right now and pull him? disappointing

yourusername: 1. i'm broke as fuck 2. i am me and he is he

yourbrother: ugh such a skill issue

yourbff: bro it's hit f1twt

yourusername: WHAT

yourusername: who the fuck is on f1twt from our village

yourbff: maybe it was me...

yourusername: REALLY?

yourbff: no you actual dumbass

yourusername: no but for real these people are insane detectives they're going to figure out it's me and i'm going to be CANCELLED

yourbff: lol

yourusername: fuck you.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 1,034,289 others

tagged: arthurleclerc & lorenzotl

charles_leclerc: just a quiet christmas for the leclercs this year

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user4: because we're going to somerset right?

user5: does he know he's meant to be in somerset?

user6: does he know what a nativity is?

user7: girl he may be an f1 driver who didn't finish school but he's not THAT dumb

landonorris: why am i seeing that you're coming to my ends for christmas?

charles_leclerc: am i??? why would i want to spend even more time with you?

landonorris: first of all - rude. second of all i have literally seen posters about you coming to the village?

charles_leclerc: what is a village?

landonorris: okay mr monte carlo some of use aren't from a tax haven

charles_leclerc: also when you're this beautiful, people tend to paste your face everywhere, you can't relate

landonorris: even RUDER

landonorris: my young cousin goes to the school and is completely convinced that you're coming to the show and dating his teacher

charles_leclerc: WHAT

yourusername: oh my jesus christ

user8: and if that one girl on f1twt made it all up...

user9: would be the only good thing to come out of that place

pierregasly: what is this i'm hearing of you having a girlfriend? charles i am HURT

charles_leclerc: where are you all hearing all of this stuff?

pierregasly: twitter!

charles_leclerc: oh jesus christ

pierregasly: you've got yourself in a right mess

charles_leclerc: ME?

charles_leclerc: this is clearly the work of a downright lunatic or a lonely cat woman with FAR too much time on her hands

yourusername: oh he gagged me there

yourbff: heyyy you have a dog not a cat!

charles_leclerc: who are you people?

yourusername: NO ONE

user10: what on earth is going on

user11: and WHO is @yourusername

yourusername: NO ONE

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1,034,277 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

landonorris: look who came to see me :)

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user13: holy....

user14: oh charles at the nativity is still so on

user15: my hopes are simply too high now good lord

user16: lowkey hoping this is all one big lie from f1twt that has managed to convince ACTUAL drivers to go to a random village

oscarpiastri: how did he get an invite to the norris house before i did ?

oscarpiastri: do my 'heart eyes' mean nothing to you?

landonorris: no babe i can explain it's for the bit

charles_leclerc: babe?

oscarpiastri: stay out of this old man

charles_leclerc: that's no way to talk to your father

oscarpiastri: my father wouldn't do such things for 'the bit" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

landonorris: it's a joke osc

oscarpiastri: so i'm a joke to you? i see how it is

landonorris: NO THE TWITTER JOKE

landonorris: has he just put his phone on do not disturb?

charles_leclerc: he said he's going to bed (it is actually quite late in australia dude)

landonorris: how do you know that?

charles_leclerc: he replied to my text :)

landonorris: WHAT

charles_leclerc: family comes before whatever pathetic crush he has

user17: how have we gotten to this point?

user18: just smile and wave boys this is mental illness on show

charles_leclerc: you're right, having a crush on lando is mental illness

landonorris: then it's time to get your son sectioned!

alexalbon: well this has all gotten a bit serious now - can we get back to the actual reason charles is at your house?

yourusername: @yourbff oh brother this is getting TOO REAL

yourbff: to put it quite kindly you are royally FUCKED

yourusername: i might have to move to another country, change my name and get bangs :(

yourbff: NOT BANGS

landonorris: who are you people and why are you always camping out in our comment sections

yourusername: WE'RE NO ONe

landonorris: WAIT I HAVE MUTUALS WITH YOU?

landonorris: NOOOOOOOOO

landonorris: she blocked me?

yourbff

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 304 others

tagged: yourusername

yourbff: take a good look at her folks because i have reason to believe that if a certain someone turns up at the show she will KILL HERSELF. love you queen, rest in divadom

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yourusername: this sounds very dramatic

yourusername: but you are correct

yourusername: my life will come to a short and all round inconsequential end tonight

yourbff: it is dramatic

yourbff: but i understand queen

yourbff: your celebrity crush who you have had a parasocial relationship with for years is coming with the express purpose of embarrasing you because he believes you are a sad, sad woman who has created an elaborate lie that you're in a relationship

yourusername: well yeah that sums it up pretty well - you think you could put that on my head stone?

yourbff: i don't think we can afford that

landonorris: i can pay!

yourusername: AHHHHHHH

yourbff: AHHHHHH

landonorris: oh forgot to say but found you! we have a lot of mutual friends lol

landonorris: actually i think my mum and your mum are in the same book club!

yourusername: you're aware this is creepy?

landonorris: you're aware that pretending to be my friend's girlfriend is creepy

yourusername: THERE WAS A GROSS MISUNDERSTANDING OVER MY DESK DECOR

landonorris: sureeeeeee

yourusername: also charles isn't even the only man i have framed on my desk, i have my dog, justin from wizards of waverely place, jason kelce and marc marquez, he's just the one the old lady picked out

yourbrother: now we have actual f1 drivers in the comments, how can we get free tickets from them?

yourusername: so my impending suicide means nothing?

yourbrother: not really. i might take your car if you die

charles_leclerc: so this was all one big scheme to get tickets? there's no show ???

yourbrother: that's what you're focusing on? not that she has a whole town under the impression that you're dating some irrelevant primary school teacher?

yourusername: rude?

charles_leclerc: a primary school teacher? that's cute

yourusername: wait did you think i was just doing the nativity for the love of the game?

yourbrother: who gives a fuck he called you CUTE

yourusername: oh!

yourbrother: she passed out :/

charles_leclerc: i didn't know i had that kind of effect on people

landonorris: oh fuck off of course you do

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,539,056 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: met my long lost girlfriend (and most importantly her dog)

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user20: omg i do not know how to feel

user21: WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME SHE'S THAT BEAUTIFUL

user22: i 100% thought the gal was gonna at least be in her 40s

landonorris: i guess she puts on a pretty good nativity

charles_leclerc: which kid is your cousin?

landonorris: the lobster!

pierregasly: LOBSTER?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername why was there a lobster?

yourusername: ummmm there's a lot of kids in the class and i was running out of roles? all animals are gods creations?

charles_leclerc: seems sacrilegious but it was cute <3

charles_leclerc: just like you

pierregasly: that was awful

yourusername: SHUT UP

yourusername: thank you charles :)

charles_leclerc: no worries princess x

user23: i am losing my mind ?????

user24: bro got tricked into going to SOMERSET and has actually fallen for her

user25: i mean ... look at her

yourusername: i do also have a cracking personality if i do say so myself

yourbff: oh girl you needed it after i held your hair back three times in the lead up to meeting charles

yourusername: and i will repay you somehow ???

yourbff: well.... now you've charmed a certain someone can we inquire about his pool of friends

landonorris: hi!

charles_leclerc: no not that one he's not cute enough

landonorris: you're really mean

charles_leclerc: @yourbff may i introduce my good buddy joris

landonorris: JORIS ???

charles_leclerc: well i regularly want to throttle you so i think it would be better to go on double dates with someone i actually like ?

user26: charles leclerc is the origin of the sassy man apocalypse

user27: i think the paddock was the start of it all

yourusername: i can't believe this actually happened :')

charles_leclerc: and i can't wait to see where it goes

yourusername: see you for new years pretty boy

charles_leclerc: i think i already know who my new years kiss might be

yourusername: i'm already waiting :3

fin.

note: i hope you all had a fun christmas! i had a great day with my family and am workin hard to get the rest of this series out!

[plethorawrites]

Thinking about Jason Todd and his bike...

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who crashed his bike so hard he couldn't even get it back to the batcave to fix it himself and had to stop at the closest mechanics shop he saw.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who asked for the best mechanic—since they refused to let him work on his own bike— and had someone point to you, the perky, grease covered, petite mechanic who looked like you could barely even lift the hood of a car.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who watched dubiously as you fixed his bike, not because he doubted you, but because he was insanely protective of his bike and hated letting anyone, even his family touch it.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who listened to you spew random facts about his bike as if he wouldn't know them, but secretly found himself intrigued every time you mentioned the rarity of a part or complimented one of his custom upgrades.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who came by again the next time he got into a wreck, even though this time he could have driven it home without problem, just to satisfy his own curiosity about you.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who laughs off your jokes about him breaking his bike on purpose to see you, even though that's exactly what he's started doing, claiming there's a weird sound you need to findbwhen there was in fact no sound at all and he just liked watching you run your hands over his bike.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who eventually, after weeks of this, asks you to go for a ride with him so he could see you ride and enjoys the entire afternoon, racing you through the streets and then out of town where you two stay until it gets dark and you can see the stars away from all the bustling traffic.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who shows up whenever he wants, watching you work, either silently or while yammering on in mindless conversation with you, dodging every grease covered rag you throw at him.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who is absolutely obsessed with the sight of you covered in dirt and grease, wearing leather, but practically starts to drool when you finally let him take you on a dinner date and show up in a red dress/suit , with your calloused fingers painted to match.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who loves racing you as much as he loves having you on his bike, holding onto him tightly, even though he knows you aren't scared when he takes tight turns or drives a bit—20 miles—over the speed limit.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who gets hell from you whenever he actually accidentally crashes, the way he did the day you met, not only for ruining your hard work on it, but because you're worried he'll be hurt.

Motorcycle Jason Todd: Who pulls you towards him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rests your forehead against his, promising you that he's fine before kissing you.

[hiiraya]

loml

pairing: natasha romanoff  x reader 

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst, happy ending (?), literally just self-indulgent writing, messy writing, listen to loml by taylor swift to get in the sad mood

a/n: merry christmas everyone! the last thing I posted was january of 2022 and it's literally about to be 2025 - I've been in a reminiscing mood lately and this was something I've had in the drafts for months, I figured I should just release it to get it out of my system. your girl has been missing someone bad bro and the urge to tag them in this is insane ♡ anyways, hope they see this lmao

“Have a safe flight and text me when you land, yeah?”

“I will, I will. Get home safe and update me as well, okay?”

You release your cousin from your hold, giving their shoulder a quick squeeze as they pull away. You do a last minute check with them to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important - something you were always prone to do when travelling by yourself. The memory of you almost missing your international flight because you had rushed home and back to the airport within record speed, all because you had forgotten your passport of all things. 

“I’ll fly out to see you next time, so you can show me around.” You smile.

“Are you guys serious? I told you to leave early so that this exact thing wouldn’t happen!”

Your eyebrows immediately furrow at the familiar voice, catching one last glance of your cousin as they enter the security screening area, waving to them while you mouth one last ‘text me when you land!’ as they leave your sight, before turning around to find the source of the voice.

No way it’s her, you thought. What’s she doing here?

As you get closer to the arrivals board, your questions are answered. Standing there in all her glory, is the one woman you never thought you’d lay your eyes on again.

“Natasha?”

You see the puzzled look on her face as she registers your voice before she even lays her eyes on you. Watching as the confusion turns to irritation - whether it was towards you or whoever was on the other side of the phone, you couldn’t tell (most likely both) - you watch as a deep sigh she releases as she glances at the board in front of her once again.

“-that’s another 10 hours before you guys even land.” She sighs, exasperation lacing her voice.

“Hey, listen if you need help-”

She holds a finger up to silence you, eyes meeting yours in a piercing glance. “I don’t need help, and especially not from you Y/N L/N.���

At her words, you look down, the sight of your shoes a welcome one as you take a second to recover. Honestly, you thought to yourself, I deserved that. 

“Yes, it’s Y/N- no I did not! I swear I didn’t know that they were here.” You hear her mutter from beside you. Deciding to save the both of you from further embarrassment, you turn your attention elsewhere, wondering what your cousin would say once you eventually tell them about who you ran into immediately after they left.

You lift your head back up when you hear Natasha mumble "you guys pick the day before Christmas of all days to be late for your flight” followed by a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, watching her scope the airport for her next step. 

You could just leave and pretend this ever happened.

“Come on, Nat, I promise I just want to help.” You find yourself saying instead. “I can take you to your hotel when they get here.”

Well, there's no going back from that now.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

You really needed to stop opening your mouth.

“Okay, you know what, I deserve that.” You pause. “Listen, I’m not going to force you to come with me, but the offer is still there if you want it. You’ll get a free ride, plus you can use my apartment to rest and freshen up while you wait.”

 -x-

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

You spare a glance to Natasha, who was currently sitting in your passenger seat.

"You're the one that followed me to the car?"

She rolls her eyes at your confused tone, choosing to ignore what you said and instead checking her phone - most likely waiting for an update from whoever she was speaking to on the phone before. "I can't believe they missed their flight."

"Who's they?"

"Yelena, Maria, Wanda," she answers. "Oh, and Yelena's friend Kate too. I don't think you've met her."

You bit the inside of your cheek, because you already know that you didn't get to meet anyone named Kate while you were still together. You honestly didn't get to meet many of Natasha's friends whenever visited her - it was something you always fought over. It felt like she was ashamed of you, always wanting to keep you hidden, a secret she never planned on sharing with the world.

You refrain from asking any follow up questions - if Natasha wanted you to know more she would tell you.

Instead, you ask: "Did they manage to catch the next flight out?"

She nods. "I'm honestly surprised they did, considering how expensive it probably would've been. But knowing Maria, she probably would've pulled some strings to make it work."

Natasha finally looks up from her phone as you come to a stop, looking at the building you had just parked in front of.

"Where are we?"

"My apartment, I figured we could drop off your bags and you can freshen up before I show you around." You open the door for Natasha before moving to grab her bags from the trunk.

You lead her inside, setting her bags down in the living room before turning around to face Natasha - holding your arms out as you gesture to your living space. It's the first time she's ever stepped foot into this place, having only seen it through a phone screen since you were the one who would fly out to visit her when you were still together.

"I'll grab you some towels so you can freshen up, but make yourself at home." You say, gesturing for her to follow you down a hallway. "The bathroom is the first door to your left, there should be a spare toothbrush under the sink- wait did I give to my cousin? Well, we can grab you one while we're out but everything you need should be here."

You know you're rambling but you don't stop in fear of saying something stupid (which knowing you, is highly likely).

"If you want to take a nap, the guest room is just a little further down the hall on the right - I just changed the sheets so everything should be fresh."

It's not the way you wanted to be showing Natasha around your home for the first time, but you'll take what you can get. It'd be so easy to waltz back to the way things were, before everything fell apart but you didn't have the right to that anymore. You weren't a part of her life anymore.

You didn't know if she already had someone new in her life, maybe you were overstepping in so many ways and that it was best to just keep your distance. After all, you did promise that you just wanted to help. You were here to keep her company until the girls arrived and take her to the hotel when they finally did get here.

You know it's for the better to just move on, that after today she'll be gone and it'll be like she never made a reappearance in your life. But how could you when you know deep down that you still haven't fully moved on and that she'll always hold your heart in her hands?

Natasha's voice cuts off your reverie, bringing you back to the present as you hand her the towels.

"Give me an hour to shower and rest my feet for a bit, I wanna go out and explore while we wait."

 -x-

"Do you see that one over there? That's a hammerhead shark! They're one of the most powerful sharks in the ocean."

Natasha hears the little girl gasp, watching their eyes going wide with wonder. She can't help the small laugh that escapes when she sees the young girl lean closer towards the glass before loudly whispering, "is it going to eat us?"

You laugh softly, and Natasha can't help but think that she's missed hearing the sound of your laugh, something she thought she wouldn’t hear again. It comforts her slightly to know that it hasn't changed after all these years, and that  she can still easily recognise the sound as being yours only.

"It won't eat us! Sharks don't eat humans," she hears you explain. "They're more interested in fish and seals, than they are humans. But they are really strong swimmers, and they can smell things from miles away - even in water!"

She'd been watching you answer questions about sharks for the past 5 minutes, after a curious little girl ran up to while you were looking at the shark tank and asked if you knew what type of shark was swimming in front of the glass.

"Do sharks talk to each other?"

"They don't talk like we do, but they do communicate by using their bodies and how they move through the water. Some sharks even make sounds by rubbing their teeth together, kind of like a secret language that only they can hear."

It doesn't take long for the girl's mother to find the three of you, sighing in relief as she sees her daughter, looking up at you apologetically.

"Sorry, she's probably been asking you a million questions."

You give the woman a friendly smile and shake your head. "It was nothing, I loved answering all of her questions." You tell her. "It looks like you might have a future marine biologist on your hands."

"Let's leave the lovely ladies to enjoy the rest of their date, bubba."

"Oh- it's not-"

"We're not-"

The mother and daughter are already walking off before either of you could finish your sentences, leaving you and Natasha standing in front of the shark exhibit with red cheeks and thundering heartbeats. 

Natasha catches your eyes as you glance at her in a shy glance, and she knows it's too late. The warmth that passes through her as you smile, the same warm and knowing smile that you used to give her when everything was still okay was almost enough to bring her down to her knees.

You interrupt before her thoughts can spiral any further, clearing your throat before gesturing with your head the direction of the next exhibit.

"Shall we keep going?"

 -x-

Natasha sits across from you at a small café by the beach. You mention to her that it was your secret place, one that you go to when you wanted time to slow down and just have a moment to catch your breath. After the little incident at the aquarium, you guys decided it was best to just sit and people watch for the time being to avoid any more awkward interactions.

The warmth emanating from the cup of coffee did little to chase away the little chills that ran down her spine every time Natasha caught you gaze lingering on her for longer than you must've realised.

She told you about the plans that she and the girls had made for their vacation while you filled her in on your own life, telling her about your cousin that had just recently come to visit you just before Christmas.

"I'm glad you chose to come with me." You admit after a pause in conversation, voice soft. She turns to look at you, your eyes meeting hers with such an intensity it made her breath get caught in her throat. "I missed getting to talk to you like this."

She can tell that you spoke without thinking, the widening of your eyes giving you away. You look away, muttering a quiet "sorry" before lifting your drink to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush of your cheeks.

She was supposed to be over you. She'd told herself time and time again that she had moved on, but seeing you again, and being here with you, she couldn't deny that she was still in love with you. Having you so close yet so unreachable leaves an ache in her chest.

Throughout the time you two had been sat at the café, she watched you with fondness at the way your eyes lit up while you spoke with excitement in your voice about the things you and your cousin had gotten up to in the week they were with you; Natasha realises that she missed you too - and the comfort that you brought her just by simply being near.

"Nat? You okay?" The worry in your voice only deepens the ache in her heart.

"Yeah, no, sorry - I'm okay." She answers with a shaky nod, breathing deeply. She allows herself to feel her emotions, knowing that it would only do harm if she tried to deny herself this moment with you.

"I missed you too."

The sadness settles deep within her chest, the way you looked so shocked at her words - and she wonders if you were expecting her dismiss your words.

Her phone pings loudly from where it was placed on the table, the text tone sounding off four times in a row as her screen lights up between the two of you.

Natasha!! We've landed :D - Wanda

Sestra, we're on our way to the hotel now, tell lover girl to drop you off now - Yelena

Hi Nat, sorry again - we'll be there in 30 minutes! - Kate

I'll check us in if we make it to the hotel first, Nat, just let us know when you're there - Maria

You both watch as each text pops up on her phone, knowing that your time together was coming to an end.

Natasha watches as you ponder for a moment - wondering if you were going to add on to your words from before now that she's admitted that she missed you too. For a second it does seem like you're about to say something, but instead you just shake your head slightly to yourself, clearing your throat and as you look away, flagging down a waiter to pay for the meal you shared.

"We should probably get going if we want to get to the hotel at the same time as them."

She allows herself a moment to watch as you gather everything, absentmindedly listening to you talk about leaving now so we don't hit traffic - though I guess it's fair to make them wait, considering they made you wait like 10 hours, that's a practically a whole day wasted where you guys could've been sightseeing!

Natasha knows your putting on a brave front - she can see it in your eyes as you gather your wallet and keys, but she begrudgingly gets up after you pay for the bill, walking back with you to your car.

Already dreading the moment she has to say goodbye.

-x-

"Well, I guess this is where I leave you."

Pulling up at the front of the hotel, you catch a glance of Yelena, Kate and Wanda through the window. Even though you couldn't see her, you knew Maria wouldn't be too far away. Probably checking everyone in, you assumed as you parked your car near the entrance.

You do your best to avoid looking at Natasha, taking your time in getting out and grabbing her bags from the trunk, knowing this could very well be the last time you see her again. The thought alone breaks your heart all over again - you can recall all the times you've begged the universe to let your paths cross once more. Now that your wish has been granted and you're preparing to say goodbye to her once again, you deeply feel the loss of her from your life before it's even happened.

She's already watching you as you close the trunk. You hope that she can't see the tears that have been slowly building up since you started the drive to the hotel. You refuse to let yourself hope that the look in her eyes could mean anything order than gratitude.

"Thank you, Y/N, for today." She tells you softly.

"It's was nothing, Nat," you say with a smile, before softly adding, "you're welcome and I hope you guys have a Merry Christmas."

Getting lost in the silence that falls between you; you miss the way she's looking at you as you stare down at your shoes, waiting for her to grab her things and go so you can drive back to your apartment and sulk for the rest of the week. You wonder if she can see the way your hands are shaking as you wait for the inevitable goodbye.

"Y/N?"

You hum in response, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you decided to use actual words.

"I had a really good time today."

You tilt your head in curiosity. You've had a hard time all day trying to gauge if Natasha was having enjoying herself or not. There's no doubt in your mind that she would've said something if she wasn't.

"And it got me thinking," she continues. "I don't know- maybe I'm reading into everything wrong, and you can absolutely say no. You'll probably say no, because this is crazy, but I had to say something before I lose my mind-"

"Nat." You interrupt. As endearing as it was to hear her ramble on, to see her getting more and more flustered as she kept talking, you knew she'd work herself up before she every got to what she actually wanted to say.

"Breathe, love."

You nod encouragingly after she takes a deep breath, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be so wrong, you know?" She starts. "To try again."

You try to hide the shock that you feel, but can't stop the way your eyes widen ever so slightly at her words. Never in a million years did you expect her to even say yes to spending the day with you, let alone suggest giving your relationship another go.

Does she mean just a friendship or an actual relationship?

Is she just saying that because of today?

What if she realises she doesn't actually mean that later on?

What if this was just a joke and she was just waiting for you to say yes so she can go "aha! I was just kidding as if I'd be serious."?

What if-

"We're different people now, don't you think?"

Confused but curious to know what else you had to say, she nods. "I'd say we are."

"We're older than we were before." You add. "We know a lot more about ourselves now, I'm not the scared kid I used to be."

You're scared of making the same mistakes you did all those years ago. But you also know that you're more than willing to learn from those mistakes; to stay and communicate to make things work instead of running away at the first sign of trouble. Because if there's anything you want more in the world, it's to make this work with her.

But just as much as you are scared, you can't help but be excited. Excited and honoured to learn more about this new Natasha, and fall in love with her all over again. You can't wait to find out what stayed the same, and what changed about her. Whatever she was willing to share with you, you'd gladly take.

"I could love you properly this time."

She gasps softly, and your heart pounds at the prospect of already scaring her away.

The thought of her friends seeing this happening through the window of the hotel briefly crosses your mind - you wonder if they'd approve of you making a return to Natasha's life or if they'll make you work for it after the way things ended between you two.

But she smiles, stepping into your personal space to wrap her arms around your neck and all thoughts leave your mind. The only thing you can focus on is Natasha pulling you closer so her words are only for your ears and your ears only to hear.

"I could love you properly this time too."

-----

@sadonism

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a spontaneous idea for a new year's eve party doesn't seem so brilliant anymore when there's so much to do and so little time left. and when the sound of fireworks wakes you up with flashbacks. but luckily, reid's right there with you. as always.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer x newbau!female reader, baking cookies together, the beginning is really chaotic, reader has a panic attack and flashbacks from time when she was a hostage (in my previous fic but there's no need to read it before. no major references as usual), mention of shooting. penelope garcia slaying. glasses read one more time (will i ever get bored of this?) a lot of jokes (successful i hope) most of the fic is very fluffy, inspired by new year's eve by taylor swift (i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading)

𝐚/𝐧: this is probably one of my fav fics of mine, i literally cried while writing (because there's no one to clean up the bottles with me on new year's day)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6k

“Okay, I think we’ve got everything. Although, do you think we have enough types of cheese...?”

“There’s so much cheese it won’t even fit on one board, Pen.”

“Exactly, so maybe we should make two…”

“Hey, look. Do you think these glasses will work for champagne?”

“Two boards—one with cheese, more savory, and the other with…”

“Because I don’t think I have any others. Jesus, I need to wash these; they’re fucking sticky…”

“…and on the second one, we’ll arrange the cookies we’re going to bake…”

“Shit, the cookies. I’m not even sure if this oven works…”

“Wait, did we even buy olives? Fuck, how could we forget olives…”

“Screw the olives! Wash the glasses if you can, and I’ll check the oven…”

“What do you mean, screw the olives?! How the fuck are you supposed to make a cheese board without olives?!”

For about twenty minutes now, you and Garcia had been running around the kitchen in your house, talking over each other non-stop and hardly listening. A grocery bag sat unopened on the kitchen island, you hadn’t started preparing a single one of your overly ambitious snacks, and some pesky gremlin was doing flips on your shoulder, whispering tauntingly, you know it’s highly likely the milk in your fridge is expired, right?

Well, that’s just how it goes when you decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party spontaneously—on New Year’s Eve afternoon. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle so many people agreed to come. And once they said yes, there was no backing out. You had to organize everything: the food, decorating your house, outfits, makeup. With every passing minute, Penelope was transforming into a full-blown organizational beast, completely unsure what to tackle first. The two cute space buns on top of her head had fallen apart, leaving her blonde curls loosely cascading down her neck—not that she even seemed to notice.

You, on the other hand, were losing steam fast. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball on the floor and eat cheese without bothering to arrange it on a board in an aesthetic way. Two types of people under time pressure. 

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, your voice so filled with irritation that, if you were in the visitor’s shoes, you’d have turned and run for your life. Quickly, you opened the fridge and sniffed the damned milk. No signs of spoilage, thank fuck. There was no way you had time to go back to the store…

You made it to the door, and halfway there, you realized you were still holding the open bottle of milk you had forgotten to put back. You sighed, turned around, and with a double dose of rage, anxiety, and sheer insanity, you finally opened the door.

"Hey," Reid greeted, standing on the doorstep. His glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was slightly tousled from the rather strong wind that day. Without even looking at you, he pointed to the brown bag hanging from his shoulder. "So, about those board games, when you invited me, I decided to look something up online and ordered one that I think you'll like. It's inspired by the works of Jane Austen, and players take on the roles of characters from the Regency era..."

"Is someone trying to sell you something, or what?" You heard Penelope's voice from the kitchen.

"Anyway, I ordered it, but unfortunately, it didn’t arrive, so I just grabbed chess and..."

You could only manage a confused shake of your head.

"Reid, with all due respect, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked at you as if you’d asked him for the juicy details of raccoon marital life.

"You invited me over for New Year’s," he reminded you, frowning slightly, as if wondering whether he’d gotten something wrong—like the day, maybe. "Me and Garcia. We were supposed to play board games..."

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly remembered he was absolutely right. You had invited him. For board games. And then forgot to cancel after you’d all decided to spend the evening in a completely different way.

"Give me just a second," you said, and without waiting for a reply, slammed the door in his face.

Then you screamed. Stomping your foot like a frustrated child. Why, oh why, did you have the memory of a goldfish? Forgetting literally everything, from buying those damn olives to canceling this meeting. Why did the last day of the year have to suck so much? Why couldn’t anything in your life just go smoothly?

"The plans have… slightly changed," you explained with an apologetic smile when you reopened the door. 

Reid rocked slightly on his heels, his hand clenched around the strap of his bag. He had clearly heard what happened after you closed the door and looked as though he was debating whether to hand you a note with the number of a good psychiatrist.

"But that doesn't mean I'm kicking you out," you assured him quickly. "I’m really, really glad you decided to come, seriously. So, sorry about how things turned out. But still—will you come in? Garcia's here."

He shrugged and followed you inside.

"What exactly does plans have changed mean?" he asked.

He didn’t look around the room—he’d been to your house countless times before. Lately, for the past few months, with an increasing frequency. But he did stare curiously at a disheveled Penelope, who was busy loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Well, we met up for lunch," she began explaining without even turning to face him. You didn’t waste the little time you had either, pulling ingredients for cookies out of the fridge. "We talked a bit about Derek and Elle spending New Year’s Eve in the Maldives. And our princess here decided that she wasn’t going to spend the evening in a nerdy way, playing nerdy board games, with two nerds like us..."

"I didn’t say that!" you protested indignantly.

"...while they’re sipping cocktails on the beach and having a great time. And so, it turned out we’re throwing a party."

The explanation came to an end, and Reid listened to it all without much emotion on his face, something you caught out of the corner of your eye. But you didn’t expect him to be devastated. After all, it wasn’t as if you had canceled an event the two of you had been counting down to like prisoners marking days on their cell walls, eagerly awaiting freedom.

Standing by the kitchen island, he glanced at you, then at Garcia, then behind him, as if unsure whether he should stay or politely excuse himself and leave.

“You’re invited, by the way,” you clarified, because while you thought it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t so clear to him. “So, yeah, if you’re planning to come, you have no choice—you have to help me bake these cookies. Get with it.”

You tossed him one of the aprons. The other you began tying around your waist.

Reid caught the object you threw, looked at it with furrowed brows, then shifted his gaze to you, a hint of something resembling a smile flickering across his face.

“Who said I’m planning to come?” he asked.

His mock-offensive tone didn’t quite match what he was doing—slipping the apron over his head. It made you snort.

“Oh, what, got other plans, pretty boy?” Penelope teased. “Some wild party at the book club?”

She leaned over to close the dishwasher. But instead of straightening up, she froze in place, staring at her reflection in the machine’s door. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped in something close to horror.

“What happened to my hair? I look... I look like…”

“Like a homeless caveman who just barely won a fight with lightning?” you suggested in a syrupy tone. “But only just.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” she huffed.

She left the kitchen, the sound of her heels echoing as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. Reid turned to himself with a smug expression.

“Does a caveman qualify as homeless if he lives in a cave…”

You interrupted him with your outstretched hand, pressing it to his mouth.

“Cookies, Reid. Not philosophy.”

You were planning to bake simple butter cookies in the shape of stars, and then decorate them with edible glitter. You started pulling out all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, which were soon covering the countertop in your kitchen. You stood side by side, and your eyes were drawn to the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, barely touching his wrists. Unable to resist, you grabbed his hand and started rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"You could've just told me..." he began, looking at you in surprise.

You merely shrugged. You found yourselves facing each other, and you nodded towards his other hand, which he gave you after a brief hesitation. Just like before, you rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, but this time much more slowly. As more of his skin appeared before your eyes, you gathered yourself to speak.

"I feel a bit bad about how things turned out with the games," you admitted, not looking up to meet his gaze. You focused on his hand, holding it by the knuckles.

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft without a hint of reproach.

"I should've warned you earlier," you continued stubbornly. "Instead of doing it last minute. And, you know, if you don't want to come to this party, that's totally okay. I know you were expecting something different..."

"I was expecting to spend time with you," he interrupted, then paused to clear his throat. It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. His fingers trembled slightly when you let go, and he immediately shoved it into his pocket—perhaps to hide it. "We can have a game night another time. On a different day. Like, this weekend, for example. If you'd want, of course. Not that I'm pressuring you..."

"I would like that," you assured him, looking up at him with a smile, amused by his over-explaining. It always charmed you. You used to think it was because you didn't know each other well and he still felt nervous around you, but as time passed, you came to realize that maybe that was just how he was. "Seriously. And it's not just because I feel guilty about how I left you hanging today. I'm genuinely curious about that game you ordered. It’s inspired by Austen's novels, right?"

He started to tell you more about it, while you both added the first ingredients into a large glass bowl. As he began to knead the dough with his hands, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, propping your chin on your hand, listening to him.

"...one of the symbols of excess in 17th century England was a dish called A Pie of a Thousand Birds..."

You wondered when the conversation had shifted to this topic, while Penelope was still in the bathroom.

 "...containing various kinds of birds, sometimes in different layers, cooked together. In the earliest records of this dish, it mentions anywhere from a dozen to several dozen birds such as quails, chickens, geese..."

Reid suddenly stopped when his gaze landed on you. He must have been so absorbed in kneading the dough and sharing this tidbit with you that he was completely unaware of the fact that you were staring at him.

You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 "Is something wrong?"

"No," he quickly assured you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a bit of dough on his skin, which seemed to escape his notice. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he'd left off. "And... quails..."

You couldn't bring yourself to tell him he'd already mentioned them. Instead of that, you moved from your spot, slowly lifting your hands off the counter and approached him to wipe away the stray bit of dough beneath his eye. Reid, wanting to make sure nothing else was left on his face, wiped it with his hand… which was completely covered in dough. At the sight of his expression when he realized what he had done, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your head resting against his apron from the weight of it. Meanwhile, he desperately tried to wipe away the remnants using the clean skin of his forearms, muttering a few curses under his breath, which only made you laugh harder.

"I see you're having a great time," Penelope returned to the kitchen.

On top of her head were two cute buns once again, resembling little snails.

"The best," you corrected, undeterred, trying once more to wipe his face. This time, not as gently as before, until he flinched back under the pressure of your hand, scrunching his nose tightly.

You glanced at the clock, and your playful mood started to wane. There was still so much to do, and you rallied everyone into action. Penelope rolled up her sleeves to prepare the charcuterie boards (it turned out the olives were at the bottom of the bag), you got to work on the mini sandwiches, and Reid was busy cutting out star shapes from the rolled-out dough using a champagne bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

“Oh, by the way, Pen,” you began, opening the heated oven to put in the first batch of cookies, “we’re still going to kiss at midnight, right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed,” your friend replied, focused on arranging various types of cheese into the best possible combination.

Reid, meanwhile, was taking off his apron, folding it into a perfectly neat square, a frown of concentration on his face.

“Why kiss specifically at midnight?” he asked.

“You haven’t heard about that tradition?” you asked, surprised. “A kiss at midnight brings good luck in love and relationships for the whole next year. Skipping it means the opposite.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“It’s just a gesture. Or maybe, better put, a symbol. But anyway, last year I was having a bit too much fun and passed out before midnight. And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you it wasn’t the best year for relationships. Or rather, the lack of them.”

“Doesn’t that mean you should kiss two people this year? One for the previous year and one for the current one?” Garcia suggested thoughtfully.

You mulled it over as well.

“Actually, that makes sense. But who?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” your friend assured you. “There’s bound to be some handsome volunteer. And if not, Reid could always be your backup option.”

You glanced at him briefly, biting your lip as you considered the suggestion. Funny enough, you hadn’t thought of him at all. Not because you found the idea of kissing him unpleasant or something you wouldn’t want to do. It was just… this tradition felt more like grabbing a random person, the first friend within reach. Something done without much thought—a gesture that, in this context, meant absolutely nothing serious.

Wait, but with Reid, would it mean something serious? Why the hesitation all of a sudden? You shook your head, dismissing the train of thought.

You looked at him again; he seemed to be making a deliberate effort to keep his gaze fixed on Penelope, not on you. Though as soon as he sensed you looking at him, he turned his eyes to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“What do you think?” you asked before you could stop yourself. To ease the sudden, inexplicable tension, you added with a playful smile, “My entire romantic year would rest in your hands—or rather, on your lips. Would you be ready to take on such a sacrifice?”

“Think carefully, darling,” Penelope chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Otherwise, we’ll all have to spend the next twelve months listening to her complain about how awful men are and how unlucky she is in love…”

“I’m starting to feel an unjustified amount of pressure,” Reid remarked cautiously. You kept staring at him, arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the oven, its orange glow casting a warm light across the kitchen.

“No pressure. And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you. You’d benefit from this too. Unless, of course, you decide to kiss someone else—then, fine…”

“Considering I probably won’t know anyone else at this party? Slim chances…”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. Both of them turned to you with curiosity.

“What I mean…” you began hesitantly, gesturing toward him. He was objectively handsome—maybe not every woman’s type, but then again, no man was. In your opinion, though, he absolutely was. There was something about his polished, intellectual demeanor that occasionally clashed with his sharp wit, creating a strangely magnetic allure. You gestured at him again, as if emphasizing your point. “Just try not rolling down the sleeves of that shirt until midnight, and you’ll see your chances aren’t that slim.”

He shook his head, utterly bewildered.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Pen, explain it to him,” you sighed in mock defeat.

“She means your forearms are sexy,” Penelope clarified without missing a beat.

Reid looked down at his hands as though they belonged to someone else entirely. You exchanged an amused glance with Garcia, and the whole midnight kiss topic… well, it drifted away. You weren’t entirely sure if he had agreed or not.

You wanted to casually bring it up again, but soon Penelope left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone with a tray of freshly baked cookies ready to be decorated. Somehow, to your own surprise, you couldn’t summon the courage to ask.

"I bought edible glitter specifically for these cookies," you said, pulling a small box from the cupboard. "Apparently, it’s flavorless, but it’ll make the star-shaped cookies look magical. Maybe we should mix it with the icing?"

Reid stared intently at the label on the bottle, silent.

"What? What’s wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"That’s not edible glitter," he announced. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But when he noticed your completely bewildered—and now slightly furious—expression, his face quickly returned to its usual stillness. "It’s just regular glitter."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid."

"Since when does edible glitter contain polyethylene terephthalate and aluminum?"

You snatched the package out of his hands, and when his words were confirmed, you slapped your forehead.

"Did I just almost kill all my guests?"

"Maybe not kill them right away," he said, his tone comforting as he took the package back from your hands before you could hit yourself with it again. "Complications from eating include gastrointestinal irritation like vomiting, nausea, and possibly damage to the mucous membranes of the mouth..."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, your gaze still fixed on the tray of cooling cookies.

"But this isn't the end of the world," Reid said gently after a moment. "They still have their... interesting shape. We can decorate them with regular icing. Draw something on them. They may not sparkle, but they'll be just as delicious. And that's probably the most important thing, right?"

You knew he was right, but still, there was a certain sadness in the way you nodded. It took you a while to realize how much you’d been obsessing over such a small thing. You let out a chuckle, and he did the same.

"And I even came up with an idea for what to do with the glitter," you announced after a moment, taking the open box in your hands. A bit of the shimmering particles landed on your outstretched palm, and Reid squinted when you blew on it, sending the glitter his way. "I’ll make you shine. You’ll match the rest of the decorations..."

When Penelope returned to the kitchen, she found herself in the middle of a full-blown war, not even a battle anymore. Reid had both of your hands raised and held still, preventing you from reaching for another handful of glitter. You tried to wriggle out of this trap, kneeing him or doing something, but it wasn't really working. So there you were, looking like you were caught in some kind of bizarre dance neither of you knew the steps to, but your half-smiling faces suggested you weren’t too bothered by it.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get that glitter out of your hair until the next New Year’s Eve.

*

You had a rule to be careful with alcohol when the party was at your house.

 You preferred to make sure everything was running smoothly. Nothing slipped out of control — no one played baseball with your TV (although you hoped the adult crowd had outgrown that kind of entertainment), no one felt unwell or needed help. Moving between people, conversations, and laughter, asking if anyone needed anything or was having a good time, reminding everyone not to smoke inside. You didn’t notice when it all started to drain you. So much so that you decided to sneak away for a moment in the upstairs bathroom.

You just needed a little time alone, splashing cold water on your neck, playing a game on your phone for five minutes while sitting on the closed toilet seat. That’s all you needed.

Your bathroom had a window, usually left open. The room was on the second floor, so there was no chance anyone could be watching. You never worried about it. The window overlooked the yard of one of your neighbors, whom you didn’t even know. As you returned, you stood with your hands on the cool sink, your eyes half-closed from exhaustion but feeling a sense of relief.

Midnight was in fifteen minutes. The year was ending in fifteen minutes.

A lot has happened over the past twelve months. The most important, of course, was joining the BAU. A huge achievement for someone so young, always commented on with a surprised raise of the eyebrows, so much so that it still hadn’t fully sunk in for you. A fair amount, but still not enough, of cases solved, unsub caught, lives saved.

Apart from the professional achievements, there was also something you couldn’t add to your CV or your dating profile. Memories. The big ones, and the ones often overlooked. The countless smiles exchanged over office desks, the amused nudges of elbows, the hours spent in simple laughter. The nights, the ones spent dancing in clubs or at house parties, the ones in your friends' homes with bottles of wine passed from hand to hand and gossip flowing from your lips, one after the other, in a constant stream of surprised exclamations and sighs. There were also those spent in sad motels during business trips. Many of them, but it was the shabby ones that stuck with you the most. Narrow beds shared with Reid, because of his fear of the dark, which worsened in such places. Sometimes silly conversations and arguments, but also the more serious ones. Comforting. And, of course, you had to include the people around you, those you met this year, and those who have been with you for a long time. All the moments when you were happy, and all the ones when you cried. The books and movies. Those that disappointed you so much that you cursed them for days. Those that made you laugh until you choked, but also the ones that nailed you to the theater seat, your gaze vacant and your mind drifting somewhere on the waves of an existential crisis.

You thought about it all with a small smile on your lips

Unfortunately, when you focused on reflecting on the passing year, another memory hit you—one of those decidedly unpleasant ones. The one where, under the guise of normality, you found yourself in the middle of a robbery, becoming a hostage. And as you watched one body after another drop motionless to the floor, blood pooling around them.

The sink you were leaning against grew warm. Your hands were hot, sweating. You shook your head, trying to push away the uncomfortable memory. Why dwell on it? It was over, long over...

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash in your neighbor's yard. A bright spot rising into the air, even though it wasn't even midnight yet. What kind of idiot sets off fireworks before the New Year? What was the point of that?

You straightened up, an irrational sense of danger taking hold of you. As if that fired projectile was about to crash through your window, causing an explosion in the room. Absurd, you knew that. But then the sound hit. A blast, almost like a gunshot. A gunshot coming from an unknown direction, fading lights around you, and screams. You took a breath as another shot rang out. Fireworks lit up the night sky, a green glow spilling into your bathroom, painting your face. You stayed frozen, breath held, with your chest tight.

You knew you should move, shake off the state that the experience had put you in, but… you couldn’t. Although physically unharmed, in your own home, fear took control, robbing you of your agency. Your heartbeat quickened to an unnatural pace, a sickly rhythm. It paralyzed your limbs, one by one, while images kept flashing before your eyes, intensifying with each approaching shot.

Since your actions and most of your awareness remained beyond your control, you soon realized that you were sitting on the floor. And, worst of all, a silhouette cast its shadow over you. You flinched, expecting to see a pair of leather boots and a gun pointed at you.

“It’s just me,” came a quiet, familiar voice, somehow cutting through the wall that separated you from the world. “Me, Spencer. Sorry I came in, but you didn’t respond when I knocked... okay, that doesn’t really matter right now.”

He sighed and crouched down right in front of you, his forehead furrowed in concern. Hesitantly, he reached for your shoulder, lightly touching it, but you flinched the moment his hand moved.

“No touching, it’s okay. I understand, I get it. I understand... what you’re going through.” He spoke quietly and calmly, but you could see a hint of panic crossing his face as he carefully observed yours, choosing his words. He swallowed hard. “You’re really scared, your hands are shaking, you can’t... you can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack, you know what that means. And... it’s temporary. The important thing is to just breathe. I know it’s hard... but just try…”

The surrounding air seemed thick, like some dense gas filling your nostrils and painfully entering your lungs. You shook your head in refusal, not wanting to do it again.

"Slowly, they don’t have to be deep breaths. Just try to make them steady, okay? Please," he continued, settling down closer to you on the floor. He was also breathing the way he described, trying to demonstrate for you. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, you made another attempt. It went... better.

"Exactly like that. We're at a party now, remember? At your house. We baked cakes specially for the occasion. It's New Year's Eve and people are shooting fireworks... those are fireworks, just regular fireworks..."

The green glow crept in again through the window, covering and retreating from your two huddled forms on the floor like a tide. You focused on what he was saying, alternately keeping your eyes tightly shut and wide open. You preferred them closed—it was easier to listen to him that way. But when you closed them, it felt like he was so far away. You reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch him, to make sure he was really there in front of you. And before you realized it, you fell into his embrace, your hands clutching his back in panic with every new shot outside.

You could close your eyes; his presence and scent were with you. You could close your eyes, pretend it wasn’t happening, that you weren’t there.

But it didn’t stop. Reid whispered that it was midnight, and the next round of fireworks shot into the sky, sending those trembling sounds that rattled you. A part of your mind knew why this was happening, so why did your body still react this way?

You buried yourself deeper into his arms, feeling some weight on the top of your head—he must have rested his chin there. You kept trying to breathe, and by accident, you inhaled the scent of his neck, which, surprisingly, helped. One breath after another. In and out. His skin. Another shot outside. In and out.

It must have been many minutes before it finally stopped. You both ended up leaning against the wall, side by side. Your knees were pulled to your chest, his legs stretched out. From downstairs, through the floor, came the muffled sound of music, and that’s what you focused on. On that, and on counting the tiles on the neighboring wall, on the hands of Reid’s watch moving forward. On the details, helping you ground yourself.

"How do you feel now?" he broke the silence that had lasted for several minutes with a quiet question.

You pressed the back of your head to the wall behind you, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Better," you said after a moment. The sound from your throat was raspy, and you swallowed, pausing for a second. "Isn't it... isn't it a strange twist of fate that we're always there for each other when something bad happens to the other person?"

You kept your gaze fixed ahead, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. Slowly, he shrugged.

"Isn't that what friendship is about?" he asked.

Then, you shrugged.

"Friendship," you repeated, turning the word around on your tongue. You shook your head slightly. "I guess so. I mean, I guess that's what it's about." For a moment, you paused, lightly licking your lips. Your mind was still clouded, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. "I completely forgot what I was talking about a moment ago. What was it about again?"

Reid smiled gently at the look on your face, the expression confused but calm. And then... his hand slowly dropped to the top of your head, gently stroking it and sliding down along your cheek, where it stopped.

"Friendship," he repeated slowly.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he turned his head slightly, as if to pull his hand away, but you stopped him. You grabbed it, and even though it had moved away from your face, your cheek, you enclosed it in a gentle grasp with both of your hands, the way a shell embraces a pearl.

You noticed the time on his watch.

"It’s already past midnight," you remarked. "Do you think everyone’s too drunk to look for us, or do they just honestly not care what we've been doing in the bathroom for the past hour?"

He chuckled at your words, amused by your suggestive tone.

"Don’t want to go back?" he asked, making sure.

You immediately shook your head.

"Not yet. I like it here. And I guess I’m not ready," you said, the last part tinged with a slight embarrassment. He nodded understandingly, signaling that it was okay. You didn’t have to leave yet.

You sighed, probably for the hundredth time.

"Honestly, I’ve completely lost my party mood. We could’ve played those board games instead. When I think about the bottles I’ll have to clean up tomorrow, I just feel like I might puke."

"We'll be here. Me. And Garcia," he reminded you. "You thought we were just going to disappear together, expecting you to clean up all this mess by yourself?"

"It's not really your responsibility," you replied with a slight shrug. However, a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. "It would have been enough if you helped me set it all up. Even if it meant the entire kitchen glittering with sparkles before the party even started."

"New Year’s Eve decorations."

"Right," you scoffed. "That I’ll never get rid of. It will always look like a place where My Little Pony ponies had an alcoholic binge."

As you continued to stare at his hand, lying limp on your lap, and at his watch, you realized something else. A thought that made you tilt your head back with a sigh.

"I missed midnight again," you groaned suddenly. "Third year in a row. Where am I supposed to find three people to kiss next year, when I couldn't even find two this time?"

"You did manage," Reid pointed out, frowning slightly. "Penelope. And if you're counting your backup option, that would be me too."

"Would you?" you asked, surprised.

Pleasantly surprised. This subject had slipped by so quickly that you were sure his final answer would have been a no. You glanced fleetingly at his lips. They were slightly parted, probably in the same way they would have been if everything had gone according to plan. If you had found yourselves facing each other under the full, colorful-blinking night sky.

He nodded slightly in response, his upper and lower lips meeting. You tore your gaze away from them and refocused on the rest of his face.

"Sure," he replied aloud. He was close, the words escaping him with a slight breath of his air. "I mean... I'd also like to have a good year. So far, it’s started well. Anyway... yeah. I don't mind if you extend my backup option subscription for next year too."

The way he phrased it amused you. you lowered your gaze for a moment with a smile. Then you nodded, turning your head back toward him.

"So I guess I have my lineup for next New Year's," you said, letting go of his hand to start counting on your fingers. Both of you only realized then that you had been holding it at all. "First, of course, my husband..."

"Husband?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m being very ambitious this year, Reid," you assured him, with mock seriousness. "Then Garcia, if she agrees again. But she probably will. Unless Derek gets in the way. Oh well, I’ll just send him to the tropics again. And then, number three, you."

"Your husband won’t mind if you kiss me?"

Something changed in his expression, and it was becoming harder for you to maintain eye contact. Your gaze kept dropping, as if it were searching for something against your will. Plus, the whole bathroom suddenly felt incredibly small, your movements slow, like in slow motion. You forced yourself to wave it off dismissively.

"He’ll understand," you said, forcing yourself to take a breath. You had forgotten again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was more about his face, so close to yours, the side of your head against the wall, your bodies nearly touching. "Well, he won’t have a choice. If he wants our marriage to last happily and forever, he’ll have to let me make up for all those lost years, those three missed kisses. Sorry... if I’m talking nonsense right now, just tell me, I don’t know what’s happening with me..."

When he kissed you, for a moment, you couldn’t find yourself. Even though everything had been leading to this, with your faces so close for the last twenty minutes, gazes repeatedly falling on each other's lips, it still surprised you. You sucked in a breath through your nose as his lips pressed into yours.

Only when his hand, the same one you had been playing with for so long, the one that had earlier caressed your cheek, fell back into the same place, carelessly resting and brushing the tips of his fingers against a small part of your ear, did you truly feel it. You squeezed your eyelids shut, placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you usually associated with New Year’s Eve, one you’d forget the next day or mention with a fleeting smile. Every thought of it was meant to bring overwhelming loneliness to your lips, to make you imagine it still lasting. It alternated between tasting you slowly and carefully and consuming you with the anticipation held captive between you.

You sighed softly against his lips, and he mirrored it when you briefly pulled away. Your breaths mingled, your faces still close, foreheads gently touching.

“I almost forgot,” you whispered, barely lifting your eyelids. “Happy New Year.”

He smiled, his lips brushing yours once more for a fleeting moment.

“May your wishes come true...or something like that.”

“Or something like that.” you whispered, completely distracted, before pulling him back to you again.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling

[redocity]

>> Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school.

For your holiday event?

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school.

evan buckley x fem!reader | fluff | 1.2k | masterlist.

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

You’ve gotten used to your phone ringing right around noon. It’s become something you look forward to, the sight of “Evan Buckley” flashing on your screen making your heart flutter in a way you’d never admit to him—not yet, at least.

The first time he called, it was unexpected. You had barely unwrapped your sandwich when your phone buzzed, and his voice greeted you, cheerful and warm. “Hey! Just thought I’d check in and see how your day’s going.”

Since then, it’s become routine.

Buck calls you during his lunch break without fail, whether he’s at the firehouse, in the field, or even in the middle of a chaotic day. For half an hour, you talk about anything and everything: the weird things your coworkers do, the absurdities of his job, and those little moments that don’t seem like much until you share them with someone who listens the way Buck does.

What you don’t know is that your calls have not gone unnoticed.

—

At the 118, lunchtime used to mean loud banter and ridiculous debates. Buck was always in the middle of it, whether he was challenging Chimney to a chili-eating contest or trying to convince Eddie to finally pick a side in their pineapple-on-pizza debate.

Now?

Buck’s spot at the table is often empty, his voice heard only as he heads to a quieter corner of the station, phone pressed to his ear.

And it’s driving his coworkers insane.

“Who do you think he’s talking to?” Chimney asks, leaning back in his chair and squinting toward the kitchen, where Buck has just disappeared, phone in hand.

“Obviously someone special,” Hen says with a knowing smile.

“Special how?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on,” Hen says. “He’s sneaking off every day, giggling like a teenager. It’s gotta be a new relationship.”

Chimney’s eyes light up. “Wait—are we talking girlfriend material? Or is this like… a *situationship*? Because you know Buck.”

“Maybe it’s neither,” Eddie says, though even he doesn’t sound convinced.

The gossip escalates quickly. Chimney starts jotting down theories on the whiteboard in the common area, turning it into a full-on investigation.

Hen provides commentary, while Eddie does his best to pretend he isn’t interested—even though he’s quietly keeping track of Buck’s absences during lunch.

“Do you think it’s someone from his gym?” Chimney speculates one day.

“Could be,” Hen replies. “Or maybe it’s someone he met on one of those dating apps. You know how Buck is.”

“What if it’s a long-distance thing?” Eddie chimes in, finally caving in showing his interest.

“That would explain why he’s always on the phone,” Chimney agrees, scribbling it down.

They even try to corner Buck for answers, which only makes him laugh.

“Come on, guys,” he says one afternoon, grinning as he leans against the kitchen counter. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Hen echoes. “Buck, you’ve practically abandoned us for this mystery caller. I think we deserve to know who’s stealing you away.”

“Yeah,” Chimney adds, crossing his arms. “Give us a name. Or at least a hint.”

Buck just shakes his head, clearly enjoying the attention. “You’ll find out eventually,” he says. “We’re just— taking it slow for now,”

—

The truth is, you have no idea any of this is happening.

To you, Buck is just Buck: funny, kind, and entirely too charming for his own good. You don’t think twice about his daily calls or the way he seems genuinely interested in every little detail you share with him.

You certainly don’t realise that his coworkers have turned your lunch break chats into a full-blown conspiracy.

One day, as you’re finishing up a story about the vending machine at work eating your dollar, Buck laughs—a soft, happy sound that makes your stomach do a little flip.

“You know,” he says, “I think my friends are starting to get jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me?” you ask, confused.

“Yeah,” he says. “They’re all trying to figure out who I’m talking to during lunch every day. It’s kind of hilarious.”

You pause, sandwich halfway to your mouth. “Wait. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Buck replies, his grin evident even through the phone. “Chimney’s got this whole theory board going. Hen’s playing detective. And Eddie—well, he’s pretending he doesn’t care, but I know he’s keeping track.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. “You’re telling me the 118 is trying to solve me like I’m some kind of mystery?”

“Pretty much,” Buck says, and there’s that warmth in his voice again, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. “It’s actually kind of sweet. In a very weird, invasive way—”

“What do they think? That I’m your secret spy contact? Your long-lost twin?”

“Oh, the theories are wild,” he says, leaning against the wall of the firehouse kitchen. “Long-distance girlfriend, someone I met in a bar, a *matchmaker* trying to help me find someone else—Hen’s personal favorite, by the way.”

“Wow,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I didn’t realise our calls’d become the talk of the firehouse.”

“Don’t worry,” Buck says, his tone softening. “I haven’t told them anything. I like having this… whatever this is, just for us.”

The admission makes your breath catch. It’s the first time he’s really acknowledged the unspoken connection between you, the one that’s grown stronger with every call, every shared laugh, every small moment that feels far bigger than it should.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice quieter now.

There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that speaks louder than words ever could.

“So,” you say eventually, trying to lighten the mood, “what happens if they figure it out?”

“Oh, they will,” Buck says, laughing again. “But until then, I’m having way too much fun letting them wonder. And honestly? I think they’ll love you.”

The words hang in the air, full of meaning you’re not quite ready to unpack.

“Bold assumption, Buckley,” you tease, though your voice is soft, your heart racing. “What makes you think they’ll even meet me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” he says confidently, and there’s that grin again, the one you can hear even without seeing it. “One day, I’m going to bring you by the station. You know, when we’re ready.”

“When we’re ready,” you echo, the words settling somewhere deep in your chest.

“Yeah,” Buck says, his voice steady. “And they’ll love you.”

And somehow, you know he means it.

[ravioliage]

I'm still not over the people who called the Veilguard crew unprofessional under my post then called the Inquisition team more professional and then made a post about how everyone in Inquisition is filled with liars.

Look I do hold love for the DAI crew but like, if I had them as coworkers for a world-ending event I think I would chew my arm off until the anchor is completely gone and leave them to their own devices.

Love them as people though. I do. But the problem with DAI is that only people you need to close the breach are Cassandra, Solas, Dorian depending on the route, and the Advisors. Rest of the team are nowhere as vital to the mission as the full Veilguard team is.

I think this is also the first BioWare game where every companion is insanely vital because all of them contribute something to success that would lead to critical mission failure if you hadn't recruited them. The one that comes closest second is Mass Effect 2. That game is one of my favorites of all time but it doesn't have moments like

1) Taash luring out the dragon with their expertise and offering vital information about how to deal with the dragons that are fucking shit up

2) Neve and Bellara teaming up to break Elgar'nan's Rook's #1 Simp Hold (and Bellara getting the fade bubble to come down, and Bellara repairing the Eluvian)

3) Despite how it ended, you needed Davrin to stab an Archdemon.

4) Lucanis, the best of the best assassins, stabbing Ghilan'Nain. No, your Rook doesn't come close to having the training for that.

5) Rook stuck in jail forever were it not having someone with insane fade expertise like Emmrichs

6) Harding being one of the reasons we even found Solas in the intro, and Warden contacts and more

And many more that would make this post way too long. ME2's thing was more "helping your companions unlocks upgrades for your ship that will ensure that people will avoid a brutal death on the way to the final boss, we know it's garbage, just go with it.". You can complete the game with all of your teammates dying and that's a major design flaw of that game imo.

Anyway if you think that wasn't clear in DAV, you probably played the game with a stream on another monitor. Or you suffer from insane Main Character Syndrome. Or both.

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter VII - Fill Me With Love

Summary: After catching sight of you several times being a sweetheart towards different children, Aemond wishes for a babe of his own, to finally take a step further into growing your family, and he is hells bent on doing it tonight.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 3,8k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece); smut, so minors DNI; oral sex (female receiving); p in v sex; fingering; switch!Aemond (in this chapter he is truly dom!Aemond); breeding kink

Notes: Okay, this was kind of rushed, but it is because I’m about to go on a trip until the new year and I didn’t want to end the year without updating this story. So here it! Please let me know what you think!!

Anyway, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Happy holidays, and I’ll see you all next year! Enjoy!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

It was driving him mad. Absolutely downright insane. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

In all his years living inside the Red Keep in King’s Landing, Aemond had never realized how many children inhabited the castle along with everyone else. Most of the time the children, especially the babes, were kept separated from court, and even when the older ones did attend, they remained quiet because, as his mother had once told him many years ago, ‘children were meant to be seen, not heard’. 

Even then, he didn’t typically interact with most of the kids. Sure, he enjoyed the company of his sister’s children, Jaehaera in particular, but other than that he did not really speak to other people below adolescence. What he didn’t account for was how much you seemed to spend your time with children.

Everywhere he went you seemed to have a child not too far from you; either a babe in your arms, a toddler propped on your hip or a child clinging to your skirts, you seemed to attract every child in the vicinity. When you weren’t helping Rhaenyra with Visenya, cradling her close to your chest, you were teaching Aegon and Viserys how to bond with their dragons. You even started spending time with Helaena’s children; more than once he caught you in her chambers, playing with Jaehaerys or brushing Jaehaera’s hair, or bouncing Maelor in your arms. Sometimes he even saw you interacting with one of the servants’ children, giving them your undivided attention.   

The most unexpected for him, however, was what the sight of you with a child, whoever they were, made him feel. Anytime Aemond would lay eyes on you laughing and making silly faces towards a child, or consoling a crying infant his heart clenched and something in his stomach twisted. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, couldn’t properly give this feeling a name, until the day he caught you bouncing Visenya in your arms, humming under your breath. A lullaby, he recognized, one his own mother used to sing to him many years ago. That’s when it hit him fullforce, the meaning behind the heat pooling low in his stomach. spreading to his chest, crawling up his neck and warming his cheeks. 

He was horny. 

Aemond was honestly taken aback by how turned on the thought of you with a child, more specifically, with his child made him feel. He felt his cock twitch at the image his mind conjured: you, carrying his child in your womb, stomach swollen and heavy. As your hums gave way to words, outright singing to your sister now, the image changed, now another child, a toddler, a mop of white hair atop their head and eyes so much like yours, sprawled at your side on a bench, head on your lap as you read to both them and the child still inside you, book propped on your prominent bump. The strength of the pleasure brought to him by the thought was so great he had to lean against the nearest wall in order not to fall over.

The two of you had been married for over a moon already and his seed had yet to take root, as the ladies in court insisted on reminding you, much to your visible displeasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying though, oh no, but sometimes these types of things take time, as Rheanyra reminded you once. But even her words could not prevent the disappointment that had taken over you once your moonsblood arrived a little over a sennight after the wedding. Aemond had never seen you this disappointed before, not even when your mother had scolded you after finding out you had kicked Aegon years before (even though he very much deserved it), and you had spent the rest of the day in quiet solitude. He had eventually found you sulking in the Keep’s library, thumbing at a book he knew you had already read, having skipped supper.

“Wife.” he had greeted “You were missed at dinner.”  

“I am not hungry.” you pouted, and had you not been thoroughly upset, he would have found it charming.

Sighing, he had taken a seat next to you, gently grabbing one of your hands and pulling it towards his lips. 

“We can try again.” he laid a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“I know. I just-” it was your turn to sigh then “I was just so hopeful.”

“I know. As was I.” his thumb started caressing the back of your hand “But we keep trying. We do not stop trying until I have fucked my seed so far into your womb it has no other choice but to take root.”

You chuckled at his antics, growing flustered at his crass words.

“And besides,” he placed a short yet hungry kiss upon your lips “it is not like the ‘trying’ part is displeasurable for either of us, if my memory serves me right. You were actually quite…” he mockingly paused, pretending to look for the right word “vocal about it last night.”

Although your cheeks were flaming with embarrassment, you had kissed him fiercely in return, not necessarily disagreeing with him. He then proceeded to take you right there in the library, with you bent over the hardwood table, the book you had been previously reading long forgotten. Aemond was sure grandmaester Orwyle had entered the room at some point but he couldn’t bring himself to care a single bit, too distracted by his cock nestled upon the damp warmth of your cunt.  

At the time he hadn’t realized how much the thought of you carrying his child impacted him, but now? It was all he could think about. It was a raw, almost primal need, one which set his blood aflame, like dragon fire. He wanted, no, needed it. At the same time, a softness enveloped him when such thoughts arose in his mind, him caressing your swollen stomach and whispering sweet nothings to your, his, unborn child; sleeping on his back with a tiny babe sprawled on his naked chest, right over his heart, one of his large palms over their back, covering the entirety of their little body and protecting them from the dangers of the world. 

It all came to a head one afternoon, his sparring session with Ser Criston running later than he predicted, causing him to miss lunch with you. So he set out to find you, intent on making up for his mistake, but he couldn’t find you anywhere inside the palace. After inquiring about your whereabouts to some of the servants they pointed him in the direction of the gardens. And the sight that greeted him almost knocked him off his feet.

You were sitting under the weirwood tree, your back against the harsh bark, Helaena slumped against the tree next to you, deep in slumber. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera laid at your side, both with a head laying against each of your thighs, while you cradled baby Maelor with one arm against your chest. Your free hand was interwoven in his niece’s soft locks, caressing her scalp. For a moment he figured all three children, like their mother, were asleep in your lap, and although that seemed to be the case for both his nephews, he soon heard Jaehaera’s soft, tiny voice speak up to you, her eyelids heavy and droopy.

“I ran into Lady Baratheon after tea.” she said “Me and brother were running in the halls and I bumped into her legs.” 

Aemond watched as your lips curled into a smirk, picturing the two children running around and causing mischief, much like the two of you once did in your youth.

“And what did she say?” you questioned.

“She went” and the little girl produced a scoffing sound, almost ridiculous coming from her “and said we should not be running, that we could hurt someone.”

It was your turn to scoff then, as if the notion that two small children could hurt a grown adult was ludicrous. 

“She looked angry and said I should stop behaving like that, that it was too un… unla…”

“Unladylike?” you supplied for her, your smirk no longer present, a gloom look crossing over your features.

“Yes, that!” she giggled, then her expression turned slightly sour “She said it is no wonder I am so q… qu…” 

“Queer?” you gritted out.

“Yes, that I am queer just like my mother.”

Aemond felt his blood boiling in his veins at the jab directed not only at his niece, but also at his sister. It was true that Helaena was different, had always been, but it never ceased to enrage him how the people, and mostly, the women on court would treat her. The younger ones would exclude her from their endeavors at best, and at worst they would pretend to be interested in her and then proceed to whisper foul things about her behind her back. The older ladies would often treat her like a child, infantilizing her and speaking to her in a sickeningly sweet and paused tone that he knew she loathed. It was one of the reasons he was so thankful for the way you treated his sister; unlike his mother, who pretended nothing was different about her, you acknowledged it and embraced Helaena’s differences, the things that make her who she is. He was glad that Helaena found a dear friend in you, not failing to notice that since your arrival at the Keep she had been visibly more relaxed and less lonely.

“Jaehaera.” he had barely noticed that your fingers had stilled their movement in her hair or that your expression had hardened “You know what you should do next time Lady Baratheon, or anyone for that matter, says something like that about you or your mother?” 

“What?”

Your previous smirk returned to your features then, mischief swimming in your eyes.

“You kick them in the shin.” you shook your head “Or better yet, you call for me and I will do it for you, that way you will not get in trouble.”

For a single, brief moment, Aemond could have sworn his heart ceased beating, were it not for the loud ringing in his ears. Warmth spread through his body, starting from his chest and travelling up his neck, to his cheeks heating up the tip of his ears, all the while that same blood boiled in his veins, traveling down and making his cock twitch.

For a fleeting moment he felt lousy for the reaction such a tender moment between you, his wife, and his beloved niece arose in him, but the feeling was brief, for the very next moment he was rushing to your shared chambers, like a man on a mission.

He was hells bent on getting you with child that very day, and the Seven be damned if they didn’t give him what he wanted.

Your afternoon spent with your good sister and her children left you feeling refreshed, regardless of the foul feeling your conversation with Jaehaera elicited in you. If you were being quite honest, some of the women in court irked you, always meddling into other people’s business and treating others, including those of higher stations than them, as if lesser than. Lady Cassandra Baratheon was one of those women, so you didn’t feel a single drop of remorse about the advice you had given to your cousin, now niece.

The only thing about your day that had not been so enjoyable was the fact that your lord husband had skipped lunch. It wasn’t so much that his absence itself bothered you, although you did enjoy spending time in his company, it was just that at times he got so in his head that he often forgot to take care of himself. A few hours into the afternoon you had thought you had caught a glimpse of him in the outskirts of the garden but where you were expecting him to join the lot of you, he had completely vanished by the time you properly glanced his way. 

That was over a half hour ago, where you now strided towards your chambers to clean up for supper.

Or that would have been your plan, had you not been surprised by a warm body practically colliding into you the moment you crossed the threshold, one large hand tangling in your hair and the other snaking around your waist. Lips captured your own in a hungry, messy kiss, teeth clashing and a warm tongue brushing over your bottom lip and into your mouth.

“Ābrazȳrys, finally.” he moaned, pulling back only a fraction, just enough to look at you for a moment before connecting your lips again.

“V-Valzȳrys…” you tried speaking as he pulled you further into the room and pressed you even more against himself, closing the door behind you, but his kiss was relentless, his lips moving to your jaw and down your neck, titling your head to give him better access to your skin. 

It was then that you noticed the state of him: his hair down, a few messy strands out of place, the first few buttons of his doublet undone and something hard was poking your navel. Pulling back a bit, as much as his grip on you would allow, you noticed that his breeches were unlaced and pulled down slightly, his cock out, hard and glistening, which told you he had been tugging at it for at least a while now.

He pulled you back in, mouth latching against your shoulder as he sucked and nibbled on the skin.

“Aem…” it was when you felt his hands moving to your back, clawing at the laces of your dress, that you pulled back and held his cheeks in your hands, forcing him to keep his gaze on you “Aemond, what has gotten into you?”

He sighed then, leaning into your palms, before coming closer and leaning his forehead against yours.

“I am putting a child into your womb tonight, my love.” his warm fanning against your lips, his words making your heart skip a beat “I do not care how long it takes, ot how many times I have to fuck that sweet cunt of yours, my seed is taking root inside you tonight.”

It was your turn to kiss him desperately then, something primal fueling your actions. Something about the way he spoke, about what he spoke of, lit a fire in your stomach that pulsed in your core. He met you in the middle with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours as he resumed his task.

He turned you around then, pushing you towards the foot of the bed. His hands were a contrast with the way the rest of his body was moving, gently moving your hair out of the way so he could nibble on the skin of your exposed neck harshly. His other hand softly untangled the laces of your dress, all the while he grinded his exposed cock against your clothed ass.

“What brought this on, if I may ask?” you asked breathlessly, yet still curious about his behavior.

“Seeing you, with them,” he moaned and grinded into you more forcefully at the thought, and you could feel his cock twitch violently against your behind “I want that for us, for you.”

You softened then, a warm and fuzzy feeling taking over your heart. You wanted that too, as you had once told him, you wanted a family of your own, you wanted to share this with him. And it seemed he wanted it just the same. 

You couldn’t dwell on it for too long though, because soon enough your dress was loose enough for him to push it off your shoulders, the fabric pooling around your feet, quickly followed by your underclothes. You went to turn around but a pair of large hands on your waist stopped your movements. 

“Stay.” he whispered against your ear, and you could do nothing but nod.

The sound of heavy fabric rustling behind you let you know that his own clothes were being discarded, which was confirmed when you felt the entire plane of his naked chest pressed against your back, his heavy cock nestled on your ass as he wrapped both arms around your middle.

“Ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria.” he spoke against the shell of your ear before nipping at your earlobe “Muña hen ñuha riñar.”

It made your heart clench and heat climb up your spine, a gush of something warm spreading between your thighs. 

His hands moved then, softly caressing your skin as they went before settling, one on your lower back and the other right between your shoulder blades. A light of pressure of his palms caused your knees to bend, hitting the soft mattress, your upper body bending at the waist as you placed your hands on the bed to help support your weight. He knelt behind you, gently rearranging you so you scooted further on up on the bed.

For a moment nothing happened and time seemed to pause around you. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed besides the two of you in this very moment. 

Then you felt it, his hands holding your thighs as his hot breath tingled against your glistening folds before his tongue made contact with your cunt, licking a broad stripe against your folds. A whimper escaped your lips as his tongue circled your clit, moving back up and circling your entrance in the same manner, dipping only the very tip inside. His movements were slow yet sharp, precise, like he knew your body inside and out.

You whined, him mouthing at the entirety of your cunt, pulling your folds between his lips, before his lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently. Your arms started trembling, forcing you down to your stomach with your forearms flat on the mattress, his grip keeping your ass up. He plunged not one but two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp cry from you as you tried to move away from him, though again his grip on your thighs wouldn’t let you. He waited a moment for you to adjust, one of his thumbs gently caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in high valyrian, before slowly, very gently starting to move his fingers out of your cunt before pushing in again.

In a few moments he was clawing against your warm walls as if his life depended on it, probing, searching for that spot that made your mind spin and knocked the breath out of your chest. Hot molten pleasure was pooling in your stomach, spreading through your limbs and up your spine when the pads of his fingers brushed against it, sending a twinge of pleasure travelling all through your body. The mounting pressure in your navel kept growing and growing with each pass of his digits, making sweat drip from your brow and heat settle in your cheeks. 

A harsh tug of his lips, sucking harshly on your clit, was what sent you over the edge, the coil snapping and sending waves upon waves of pleasure through you, stealing your breath from your lungs. He barely gave you any time to think, though, the familiar sound of him sucking his fingers clean followed by his cock poking at your entrance. Then you felt two hands settling in each one of your shoulders, pulling you back towards him and onto his cock in one swift thrust, your previous release offering no resistance.

You moaned loudly, your ears ringing as he started pounding into you, his hands moving to your hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as his hips met your ass repeatedly, your own loud whines and his groans and grunts the only other sounds you could make out.

The pleasure was quickly rebuilding, not having fully receded in the first place, but after a few moments he slowed down to a stop, a whine of disappointment ripping from your throat.

“No,” he panted, his own breath stilled “this will not do.”

Your disappointment was short lived however, as he quickly flipped your around, manhandling you on your back and pushing your knees to your chest. He hurriedly thrust inside your cunt again, positioning himself so your legs slotted perfectly over his shoulders and his chest was flush against your own, pushing down on you, before resuming his erratic pace.

It was dizzying, your head was spinning and you could barely catch the words he was speaking against your skin, both his hands cradling the sides of your face as his cock slipped in and out and in and out of you over and over.

“Ñuha dāria, sīr vok,” he groaned, pressing even further into you and, in turn, pressing you even more into the matress “kesā tepagon nyke hen riñar, kessa ao daor?” 

You could only nod, feeling that familiar pressure climbing and coiling ready to burst at any moment. At the same time, an immeasurable wave of love exploded from your heart at the thought, making you clench tightly around him, pulling a hiss from him.

“Tepagon ziry naejot nyke, pār.” his own voice was trembling, one of his hands leaving your face to circle your clit in short sharp circles “G-Give it to me and in turn I will give you however many babes you might want.”

You cried out, the coil of pressure snapping once more and making molten heat, scorching like dragon fire, filling your mind, waves of pleasure radiating from your core to every part of your body, taking over all your senses and enveloping your very being. He was quick to follow, thrusting sloppily into your cunt as his cock twitched violently, shooting ropes of his warm seed, painting your damp walls, his body collapsing over your own.

As you came to your senses you could feel him mouthing gently, almost lazily at the skin around your breast. When he noticed you staring at him he raised his head, his lips meeting your own in a sweet, soft peck.

“Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos.” he smiled tiredly, his whole face lighting up beautifully.

“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha zaldrīzes.” you answered in kind.

After a few moments regaining your breath you pushed at his shoulder gently, so he could get off of you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Where are you going, ābrazȳrys?” he jested, a mocking smirk taking over his features as he thrust his now softening cock shallowly into your cunt “I told you I would get you with child by the end of the night, and I intend on making good on my word.”

By the looks of it, you’d both end up missing supper that evening, as you were in for a long night

High Valyrian translations: - ābrazȳrys - wife - valzȳrys - husband - ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria - my wife, my queen - muña hen ñuha riñar - mother of my children - ñuha dāria, sīr vok - my queen, so perfect - kesā tepagon nyke iā lot hen riñar, kessa ao daor? - you will give me a lot of children, will you not? - tepagon ziry naejot nyke, pār - give it to me, then

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@garden-in-the-rain

@queen-of-elves

@woodlandwrites

[mins-fins]

beyond the moon !

"you aren't about to lose such a worthy position to some hunky nepo baby".

synopsis: breaking news: the worst possible person you know is actually more than half decent in bed. of course, it's an easy slam dunk. you will begrudgingly admit that jaemin is pretty nice on the eyes—even if he has the personality of a barbed wire. it's a match made on this soul sucking earth. it's only a little perfect.

pairing: na jaemin x male!reader

genre: alternative universe, main hospital scenery, somewhat grey's anatomy fusion, interns the fic, strangers to rivals to rivals who hookup to friends who hookup to lovers, fluff, some angst, slightly suggestive tones, humor, crazy ass pining that's barely realized until 10k words in, some background relationships that provide other drama

warnings: swearing, explicit language, so many mentions of sex, almost tiptoes into borderline smut like five times, sexual humor, reader and jaemin are both equally emotionally underdeveloped and horny, drinking, the impending stress of the medical field, mentions of death, a bunch of medical jargon you probably don't care about, mentions of surgical procedures, some blood.. i think thats it

word count: 16.7k

notes: hello, merry christmas, happy one year anniversary to my hyuck work which started my whole nct saga on tumblr.. im afraid i am very mentally ill 😓 so!! surgeon jaemin!! originally surgeon jaemin was a serial killer but then i lost wave of that draft over the summer and i tried to do it again 😚 this was half based on early greys anatomy because why the fuck is that show so long and um my own life lowkey?? ofc im not sleeping with my fellow interns but i have seen too much of a hospital i have begun to see the white corridors in my fucking dreams.. save me please life has not treated isa mins-fins well 😭😭 and NO dont listen to user junjiie this is not a self insert i swear!! im still going to the hospital later today soooooooo i lost anyway 🤷‍♂️ lowercase intended as usual and last long work of the year 💖

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 1: do ethics matter when the dick is good? (hyperbole.. actually not)

frankly, it began on a mundane tuesday.

well as mundane as a tuesday for you could be, a week following getting dumped would typically be dedicated to mourning but guleum grace hospital is equally as busy each particular day. you did not underestimate the sheer amount of regular patrons at hospitals, your internship was all about that in fact, pouring your blood sweat and tears into some amateur surgery you had about a twenty five percent chance on performing correctly, however, any chance was any chance.

it isn’t as if you were some lunatic brisked with insanity who valued his work in an irregular fashion, you’d surmise that you were a regular workaholic, the epitome of an overworked medical student stereotype, it all sucked the soul out of you, though your scrubs remained spotless and the eye bags stuck in a much acquainted manner.

unfortunately, your heart attack inducing student debt won’t allow for you to simply quit, neither will your pride, your extent of competitiveness, and your bright need to prove your overbearing parents wrong.

getting into a deathly inviting internship program is enough, what’s shit is surviving, and surviving would be easy if not added on by such a nuisance.

what nuisance? you may ask, well the nuisance that so happens to b—

“present the case l/n”.

you somehow retain your sigh, if the distress is displayed through any means of visibility then doyoung merely doesn’t give a shit. “uh— samuel lawson, fifty two, has been in and out of hospitals four times in the last three months with complaints of sporadic, mild to moderate pain in his chest. we picked up on a heart murmur and his echo showed left ventricular hypertrophy with a repolarization abnormality”.

“what would you recommend?”

“the best course of action is to replace his aortic valve with a porcine valve and prescribe anticoagulants to improve the prognosis”.

“good, and why do we want to pay attention to his kidneys in this situation?”

“his kidneys?” you echo, former exhaustion manifesting in the unscathed widening of your eyes. there’s a whistle, lee donghyuck opting to feign forgetfulness to your very presence, as if he even knows the answer.

you aren’t as easily absentminded, you’ve been hard of thinking recently, read all those printed words yet none of them stuck to the confines of your brain. there’s then a sigh, you initially assume from doyoung, but of course it isn’t.

“ah dr na, how kind of you to join us, perhaps you could remind me of the answer?”

arms folded over his chest, jaemin doesn’t miss a beat. “since his heart isn’t functionally effective his kidneys work as a compensatory mechanism, we’ll need to take increased renin and aldosterone secretions into account when considering general anesthesia and how soon he can go into surgery”.

“i see somebody has been doing their homework” you graciously avoid his eyes, glowering in jaemin’s direction as he offers a meager eyebrow raise. “good job na, you’ll definitely be scrubbing in”.

you pray for his early death.

it’s a seamless lesson whilst interning, competition is everything; you love competition, you live for it even, and na jaemin just so happens to be the nuisance which troubles your every week.

it’s something to even survive your first year of interning, let alone in time for when the seven year residency rolls around. only the best become surgeons, a perfectly manufactured system that is definitely not flawed and has most likely not been the cause of many related mental breakdowns.

you’ve had some undisclosed issues out with na jaemin since the beginning of your program, his awareness manifests in his knowing glances, if swiping cases from under your feet and making your life as hellish as possible is equated to diverting entertainment, na jaemin is elated. at least he has the familial connections to ensure the acclaim, the regarded son of na kiwoo, one of the most well revered orthopedic surgeons in the country. now you aren’t petty enough to spew the claim that na jaemin is bad at his job, he isn’t, however, you are petty enough to state the fact that him getting extra time to redo the practical board exam would’ve never been granted to anybody not with the same fucking last name.

and you suppose somebody else could also reign as worthy competition, but you’re conceited, unabashed in the likeness of your own smarts, you didn’t brave the trenches of medical school to lose such a worthy position to some hunky nepo baby.

~

it’s about half past twelve when huang renjun stumbles into the on-call room.

“you drinking on the job?”

he glares, you smile, there’s something concerning his anger which gets a satisfying kick out of you. you were sat at a desk, overloading on coursework you’d give not even a mere glance toward once you got home, the placid diagrams of human arteries burned into your brain. you spent most of your day, resounding to most of your shift, hanging about downstairs in the E.R, handling skimpy stitches from those who couldn’t help but do something idiotic on a saturday morning. who knew? you’re aware dr. kim probably holds a much lowered opinion of you; however, you still preserve hope that he’ll allow you to scrub in on that upcoming LVAD replacement he has scheduled for later in the week.

“can you believe who got to scrub in on that corpus callosotomy?” his undertone indicated irritation, you did not have to take a glance backward, you could distinctly picture the snuggle frown tugging at his lips.

“can i buy a vowel?”

your response earns a hefty scoff, the ghost of a smile lingers as you take in his much visible exasperation. it appears he wants to look intimidating, but his docile like features do not sell such a point home. “kim wonil, can you believe it!?”

“oh really?” you click your tongue, the raise of an eyebrow paired with the raise of a nearby head, it’s lee jeno’s, you make out. “wow, maybe i should start sleeping with mark lee too”.

“well it’s not like anyone knows if they’re sleeping together— he’s basically just his protégé” what a gentleman lee jeno is, feigning unawareness at the whole thing.

“uh huh, me when i’m fucking the only attending neurosurgeon” you seethe. “seriously, you think he’s taking any under the table offers?”

“you’re an asshole”.

you simply blow renjun a kiss.

whilst renjun may be adamant on the whole civilized pursuit, you would say that sleeping with one of your bosses basically equates to getting favored treatment, you suppose your wavelength on that won’t ever change. “is that coursework?”

your eyebrows raise once renjun leans over your shoulder, you don’t make an effort to nod your head. “that’s coursework, what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m not about to have a splitting headache at home, trying to keep my sanity intact, you know”.

“more like wither your sanity— oh, hey jaemin”.

“hi” jaemin allows renjun the decorum of a smile, because for some reason renjun is the only other intern he has the gall to treat in the manner of a regular human being. he settles in the bed across from you with a look and doesn’t even try a glance in your direction, muttering a small greeting to jeno.

“do you want ibuprofen? i have some in my locker” renjun mutters softly.

you wave a dismissive hand. “no, i’m seriously about to max out on painkillers right now”.

“maybe it’s a tumor” jaemin unexpectedly adds, he doesn’t look up from a book.

“you wish”.

“i do”.

“it could be a caffeine headache” jeno helpfully reckons from where he is across the room, leaning up on his elbows to give you a sympathetic look.

“or the stress” renjun decides. “or your just sleepy because of the stress, i’m getting tired because of the stress” he then makes his way over to the dormant bed and flops right onto it.

“tumor~”.

“why the fuck do you care?”

“i most certainly do not”.

“drop dead asshole”.

“guys..” jeno weakly begins, glancing between you two as if silently picking a side.

“sorry” you feel little remorse towards the tumor hopeful fuckface, simply for everybody else. “the exhaustion is making me mean”.

it appears that a nearby zhong chenle utters the insult of you’re always mean somewhere above you, and then the room grows claustrophobic for you in about five more seconds.

when your chair emits a high pitched screech, renjun’s head rises. “where are you going?”

“gonna find something to do”.

then you shuffle out of the on-call room, feigning ignorance at na jaemin’s continuous stare.

~

later that week, the one person you observe when you walk into the on-call room on wednesday for your mid-shift nap is na jaemin, the current bane of your existence. you’ve been bumping shoulders in the O.R for the past week, and you’re beginning to think that the world is attempting to kill you early, those mystifying forces rambled about in storybooks manifesting whenever his name happens to appear in your mind.

you pause once you step in, meeting his eyes for a charged second before clenching your teeth, they’ll probably begin bleeding soon. you starkly consider backing out, but you can’t surrender your pride to this guy, that would be letting him win, so you sigh and lean your back against the door.

“i’m just here to sleep,” you voice. “waving my white flag”.

“you should be thanking me”.

you’re baffled. “excuse me?”

“i’ve saved your ass like twice this week, god kim would’ve literally eaten you alive if i weren’t around”.

your mouth dries up, jaemin seemingly revels in such a factor, swinging his legs sideways and out of the bed. “you’re terrible under pressure it’s a wonder you even made it through medical school”.

your left eye twitches, the one singular time you try to be civil, he just— he just decides to..?

“you’re so infuriating and arrogant and selfish—“

“oh really? love it when you talk down on me..”

“and you’re so— annoying god why does everyone like you? i hate you, hate you and your stupid privilege and i couldn’t care less what you think because you’re a fucking suck up! stop backing me up if it makes you so mad”.

jaemin then blinks, slow. “finished now?”

“yes” you drop your arms at the side, breathing having gone shallow as pure fury swirled in your ribs. you hate what jaemin does to you, whatever the fuck this is and why is the rooms temperature skyrocketing? that should be impossible in a hospital of all places, but you shouldn’t give it much thought because jaemin will probably begin over analyzing the singular movements of your facial expressions.

you hate feeling like you’re losing, you feel like your losing even if there’s no prevalent competition, it’s just.. jaemin.

that’s really why.

“good” jaemin replies. “i hope you don’t mind”.

and when he pushes you up against the door you think exactly three specific things in the second it takes for him to do that. 1; jesus this guy goes to the gym how the fuck are his forearms so huge? how is he finding time to hit the gym with such a consistent shift? 2; you should’ve gotten more words in cause oh he got the last laugh, and 3; you suddenly remember you never followed up on that post-op for patient 3109– but then all of those thoughts fly out the window when jaemin leads forward to kiss you.

na jaemin is kissing you, full on lips, hands-on-your-waist kissing you, and all you can do is suck in a breath as you then release a soft sound.

jaemin is ridiculously good at this, all soft despite his rough edges, how funny. he pulled off, taking your bottom lip with him before diving back in.

“i meant everything i said” you pant, even as jaemin pressed you further into the door and your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an effort to continue. you exchanged in a similar manner, frenzied and practically leaning half of him backward with your sheer force.

“i know” he grunts, so effortless in all he does, thumb finding the gap in your uniform which he very much decided to exploit. “but you want me anyway..”

“fuck you”.

so smart y/n, you’re getting into heaven with that one—

he chuckles as he mouths against your neck, light open mouthed kisses along your jaw, tugging at your shirt which acted as an obstacle. “that’s the goal”.

“smart ass”.

“well..”

it was the first and only time.

it actually should’ve been the first and only time, but then again, your decision making is particularly fuzzy.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 2: he’s a hotshot, so unfortunately a hotshot..

you’d been skilled enough to pick out your friends at guleum grace hospital on your first day. frankly you had met a good chunk at the intern mixer the hospital had held a week before you were all due to start, but you were the slightest bit nervous with the whole before day apprehension. lee jeno was an easy one, his timidly boyish attitude made for good company, smile replicated by his eyes as he hung around the refreshments table. he laughed at every single one of your jokes, he was sympathetic to your family predicament, much too familiar with such a thing.

lee donghyuck was similarly not a struggle, he seemingly mirrored many of the traits you found stuck to you and carried around throughout your turbulent adulthood. he clung to your side and assigned you the duty as his titular “person”, whatever that meant.

then there was huang renjun.

it isn’t as if he was unapproachable, per say, he was simply perpetual to consistent avoidance. he exchanged regular smiles yet didn’t divulge any further, somewhat unfriendly and argumentative, especially when donghyuck got on his nerves.

trivially, the only true reason you two became friends is because you assisted him in vomiting up his guts after he’d got a lashing for a mistake in the earlier days. your hand remained on the small of his back for the entire fifteen minutes, and when he finished unleashing his true extent of vulnerability upon you, he threatened you to keep your mouth shut, that threat just so happens to be the bow which ties the knot to your relationship.

renjun is able to refer to the patients as the human beings they are, sensitive and overly stubborn sure, but he’s decent under all the sour looks paired with plentiful insults.

zhong chenle? in a completely different league.

“fifty bucks y/n’s little conquest works at this hospital” he opts to enter, sliding into the spot beside you and exchanging a few looks as if he dumped his life savings onto the table for you to gorge on.

“fifty bucks my wha— how’d you even..?”

“aeri likes to gossip” chenle replies, full of cheek. “and a little birdie told me they saw you leaving the on-call room all flustered”.

“a little— who?”

“i can’t tell you my sources”.

“what if i just had a really good nap?”

“thirty bucks it’s an intern” renjun decides to add on, and you blink his way in sheer betrayal. yes they’re right but you didn’t divulge your weeks ago on-call room hookup story time to anybody, you just.. thought about it.

“that’s what yizhuo was saying! you know we have a bet right?” he digs through his pocket before pulling out an unscathed piece of paper. “let’s see we have dr suh from plastics, yeonjun, dejun, and our very own nepo baby na jaemin, pretty good don’t you think?”

“why is jaemin on the list? take jaemin off the list,” though you swipe for the paper, chenle’s got some fast ass hands.

“no no hear me out, okay? he has my vote because the tension is undeniable but i’m on your side and i don’t think you’ll give into his whims”.

“what whims?”

“his seduction tactic including starting petty fights?” renjun recalls, blinking in your direction as if attempting some newly discovered form of communication. “he probably gets off on that..”

“oh he does!”

and then they begin, you simply sigh as you make the effort to finish your lunch, acquainted with the leftovers you again had to heat up because there was little time for you to actually cook something new.

“jaemin’s a freak, wonil said—“

“we can’t trust anything he says, he’s literally fucking dr. dudebro” you steal a fry off chenle’s plate, humming along with your bite.

“i thought they broke it off?” renjun asks in denial, though his gleaming ‘i knew it’ look would completely beg to differ.

“oh come on! everybody knows they’re still fucking, no mystery, no thrill”.

renjun crinkles his nose at the display of crudeness, you don’t forget to recall the thirty bucks he entered into this godforsaken betting pool. “can i kill him?”

your hands raise in mock surrender. “not in front of me, we swore an oath of peace” you rise from your place and keep your plate in your bag. “besides there’s no mystery, no thrill”.

“don’t leave me with him!” renjun squeaks. “where are you going!?”

you do not let up the walking, however, you allow him at least one reassuring smile.

“to see a guy about a thing!”

~

in a rare act of perfect timing, you’re just able to sprint to the elevator as soon as it’s closing. by the power of the universe’s most evil, jaemin is the only one inside, and he blankly stares as you hold your folders out to hold the door before ducking in. you hit the button for the sixth floor and begin panting as you lean against the wall.

jaemin barely spares a glance, but his smile says everything. “back for more already?”

“did you tell anyone about us?”

he opts to chuckle at that one. “us? we sleep together once and you’re already thinking there’s an us baby?”

“shut the fuck up, na, like half our class is in a betting pool for when i’m going to let you into my pants so i swear to god if you told anybody i’m going to ship you to the O.R and harvest all of your fucking organs”.

the threat shines brightly above him, smile shimmering. “i’m sure you’d love to do that”.

his smile is endless and the point by which his stare begins is simply dark, it’s that stupid dead-eyed stare that could murder anyone just by one mere glance. if looks could kill, your insides would’ve been splattered all over this elevator currently.

finally, jaemin rolls his eyes.

“christ, relax, no i didn’t, i definitely don’t know anything about a bet either”.

you let out a much needed breath and again allow yourself to lean against the wall of the elevator. the only worse thing than people thinking your friends with jaemin is people thinking you’re actively sleeping with jaemin. well— okay you suppose there are worse things to be known for but being pegged as the intern banging na jaemin is definitely up there.

“i meant what i said by the way, that was a one time thing”.

“of course”.

“stop fucking smiling like that”.

it appears to be his innate need to ensure your irritation, his smile barely resists the clear urge to grow at the sight of your frown. “god, thought you liked my smile?”

“it’s never happening again” you insist. “no more sex, not with you anyway”.

“great” jaemin replies. he finally does turn to face you. “so when you say never again are you actually making a definite final decision or are you simply playing hard to get?”

“what do you think?” you retort, you’re two floors away from your destination, the lab reports you’re clutching much vicely resulting in sweaty palms.

jaemin licks his lips, all high and mighty. “i’m sure you don’t want to know what i’m thinking”.

you look up to meet his stare in a singular effort to glare equally as hard, it’s futile. jaemin’s got the eyes of a predator, as if he’ll pounce if you attempt a single move out of this elevator, it’s striking, his eyes trail all the way up from your terribly expensive shoes and up your body, stopping at your mouth.

he seems pleased with himself, tipping his head forward when the elevator dings at your floor.

you allow a squint, briskly leaving him behind. it’s only three steps out of the elevator that you realize you left him without an answer, therefore leaving him with the last word, but you conclude you’ve walked too far to shout, yet it seems jaemin has no qualms.

“you know where to find me!” he calls.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 3: good sex is addicting! healthy? eh..

naturally it happens again..

and again,

and once again.

if you were in a better place of mind, perhaps if you didn’t contain loads of work on your shoulder and slumped with courses of continuous caffeine, you’d find the right mind to chide yourself for making such a stupid decision, but you’re simply a selfish and desperate man. this is like— the best sex you’ve had since undergrad, not that there were many good examples to be the judge of that one anyway (with little offense given to shotaro, he’s a sweetheart but you two barely ever got it on as it is).

the thing is, you’re beginning to have a little fun with it. sure, you’d felt as if you were betraying yourself after the second or third time but it’s now become its own little adventure. sneaking around and whispering in the hallways in tandem with disappearing into random storage closests is fun.

jaemin is merely jaemin when it’s all over, barbed wire esqe jaemin with a personality you’d liken to some miserable children’s movie villain.

but it works, it isn’t as if you’re doing this because jaemin has a to die for personality, you’re doing it because you’re stressed, despite the fact that he is probably the main contributor of such stress, he at least helps you relieve that stress.

“somethings up with you,” jeno makes apparent when he walks past the couch, casual, conversational.

droning on the television is some nature documentary you don’t recall turning on, acting as background noise as you observe the surgery dr. kim assigned you. you technically aren’t allowed to bring your work home but you’ve also always enjoyed poking holes into rules, you bring your teeth down on a goldfish cracker that you’ve had between your fingers for about five minutes.

“what?” you finally reply.

“you seem different” jeno rewords graciously. “brighter, less.. porcupine-y”.

“i can be mean if you want,” you decide. “you want that puppy?”

jeno turns red, continuous head shaking as he clears his throat. “i just meant— i don’t know, you seem a little less miserable than before, not all grouchy, i’m happy for you”.

“pfft— thanks, always knew you loved me nono”.

his chagrin at such a nickname manifests in his much particular nose scrunch, his arms folding over his chest stubbornly. “don’t call me that.. so anyway, what changed?”

“hm?”

he leans over the couch, staring you down suspiciously, unnaturally nosy. “you can’t just decide to not be miserable overnight, what happened?”

you tilt your head up at him. “i’m getting to scrub in on proper surgeries, and i’m getting laid!”

jeno appears surprised, though gladdened anyway. “oh really? so who’s the guy then?”

you squint at him. “chenle put you up to this?”

“what?” he seems taken aback, but equally completely caught. “no?”

you open your mouth to rebut that clear lie, yet you’re both interrupted by lee donghyuck barreling into the room, looking too good for a regular saturday night, fancy overcoat draped over his arm that he definitely stole from renjun.

“stop looking at me and help me put this on” he motions towards his empty wrist and a fancy looking bracelet.

jeno simply whistles lowly.

“where are you going dressed up like this?” you inquire in the manner of a scrutinizing parent. “you got a date?” you don’t miss his avoidance of eye contact once you actually fasten the thing around his wrist.

“..yes”,

jeno applauds happily, much too excited, as if he were the one going on a date.

“give us a spin” you chide.

“seriously?”

both you and jeno nod in unison.

donghyuck begrudgingly obliges.

“you look good” jeno states.

“very good” you ruffle his hair irritatingly, and he hisses as he bats your hand away, muttering his small thanks. “have fun!”

you make sure to blow him a kiss on his way out, donghyuck makes sure to slam the door on his way out.

jeno then turns to you. “can i guess your guy’s name?”

“no!”

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 4: secrets out eventually!!

you suppose you had to eventually tell your friends at some point, of course that would include admitting zhong chenle is right and that sucks the life out of you for a much identifiable reason. the other three are bound to find out about jaemin soon enough, because whilst you’ve never been a talker, it’s getting annoying to do the constant walk of shame to jaemin’s apartment.

“i’m really trying to understand what your problem with me is” jaemin grins, all teeth, perfectly straight purely white fucking teeth. you’re back in the closet again, you can’t help but surmise that there’s a joke in there somewhere.

“i thought you didn’t care?”

“i don’t, it’s simply so cute how you get angry, kinda turns me on”.

you decide to ignore that one, wiping your mouth over with the back of your hand. you then focus on getting your shirt back to its original, somewhat normal looking form, god you’re so reckless.

“i’m just saying.. if you put effort into actually getting to know me we’d actually be pretty good— fuck ow!” he winces in the manner of a kicked puppy, all because you twisted a piece of skin between your fingers.

“i’m not interested in getting to know you, thought i made that clear” you voice.

“only thing you’ve made clear is that you believe it’s your god given right to hate me since no one else does”.

“oh you make me feel so special, i’m sure there’s someone else in this world who hates you as much as i do”.

“sure y/n” jaemin begins, “i find it hard to believe you actually do hate me” he nips at your ear, you really shouldn’t let jaemin kiss your neck, but you don’t push him off, he’d throw a hissy fit.

just as his hand begins venturing downward the closest door creaks open, and you two jump apart as if you’ve been caught, standing in the doorway is none other than lee donghyuck.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, quickly closing the door behind him. when he steps into the dingy white light, you notice the wet tears against his eyelashes, everything else is erased from your mind.

“hey” you begin, voice soft. “what’s wrong? did something happen?” you smooth over your scrubs.

“nothing” his voice gives it away. “we can’t cry mid shift anymore?”

no, but donghyuck hasn’t cried over a patient in a while, that’s typically your prerogative.

“it’s wonil” he sniffs. “stupid fucking kim wonil,” he sits down on an upturned bucket, once you kneel beside him, he pulls you into a hug to bury his tear streaked face against your neck. “i’m gonna have to change my name and transfer to gwangju instead!”

you look over donghyuck’s trembling shoulder at jaemin, who appears just as clueless as you are. he instead opts to patting the small of his back in support, rubbing soothing strokes. “could i have some elaboration, babe?”

“he used me” he says, holding onto his sobs. “took me on a stupid fucking fancy date and then i caught him with mark lee— oh my god, he.. he lied to me, he said they broke it off months ago but that obviously wasn’t true and he kept scrubbing in on the important surgeries, i thought he— we were going out for months and i just, fuck i feel awful y/n”.

well that’s.. not what you expected to hear at all. your head spins.

“wait— wonil? that’s who?”

“can we not talk about that part right now?” he simply allows for the tears to free fall, you attempt to wipe them as best you can.

sure, it’s nothing.

“did he tell you? how’d you even find this out?”

“no he didn’t i saw them” he covers his face with his own hands, distraught. “and he didn’t even care..”

“then none of it is your fault” you assure, patting the side of his arms. “he’s an asshole”.

it doesn’t quell donghyuck enough, his shoulders continuously quivering. “i had a bad feeling, i really should’ve known better—“

“he’s a cheat, he should know better, don’t beat yourself up over this”.

“i fucking loved him y/n” he rests his head onto your shoulder, something twisted and horrible lodged in his throat, tears endless.

~

it’s raining because of course it’s raining.

“it’s storming pretty bad” jaemin quips, conversationally. “do you not want me to call you a ride?”

you simply allow a small breath to escape your lips, hair tousled as you slip your jacket on through your arms. “nah, the bus works just fine” you say, wiping your hands on your pants despite your much irritation.

“and i’m guessing you don’t want to wait until it’s let up either?”

“i have to get home cause jeno’s working late and— hyuck’s alone, don’t want him to be..” you mutter, glancing down at your watch as you crinkle your nose at the time. “he’s been baking since the whole wonil thing happened, need to make sure he doesn’t burn down the apartment”.

jaemin doesn’t have to put anymore work into convincing you. “alright, have fun”.

you do the typical before leaving checkup, you have your keys, your phone, cash, and a bus pass, good. it’s silent, awkward, not much of a regular conversation when he isn’t bending you over a table.

but there’s something you really need to know.

“hey jaemin?”

“hm?” he doesn’t look up from his phone.

“should we talk about.. this?”

“well talking about it makes it weird”.

you consider your next words very carefully. “i’m lonely, you know”.

jaemin then puts his phone down. “i’m lost”.

you’re unaware of why exactly you feel the need to divulge context about whatever your relationship happens to be, you keep thinking back to donghyuck and you remember the liabilities caused by workplace relationships. you’re afraid you can’t stomach another complicated relationship, situations that wrap around your head in a nauseating fashion. not that jaemin is boyfriend material or anything but—

“the first time we hooked up? in the on-call room? i did it because i just got off a bad breakup and i was stressed and.. you were my first option”.

jaemin remains frozen in his place, gaze pointed, chest perfectly accentuated in his shir— stop looking there y/n. “what i’m trying to say is that i was desperate and it’s important you know that because—“

“get to the point”.

“i don’t want this to.. you know, be more than what it is, like.. domestic and shit”.

“oh jesus, okay y/n” he pinches the bridge of his nose, as if you irritated him. “you’re asking me not to fall in love with you right? you could’ve just said that then”.

“it sounds stupid”.

“and your other option sounded better?”

“whatever, i’m going, good talk”.

“great talk”.

“stop trying to get the last word in”.

“i’m not trying to do anything”.

“goodnight”.

“don’t say things you don’t mean”.

“fine, i hope you have a terrible one, i hope your roof catches on fire and you sleep through it and it all comes crashing onto you so your death is all slow and painful, happy?”

jaemin smiles, waving you off with each of his fingers as you storm out of the door, into the pouring rain, slamming it shut behind you.

you take a short walk and an even shorter bus ride home, yet when you enter your apartment you’re absolutely drenched.

the whole house smells of sugar and semi-baked sweets, it almost reminds you of home, back when you’d fuck shit up with your sisters in the kitchen. the now added on pain is the continuous ringing of the fire alarm, donghyuck standing at the counter fanning smoke with an empty box of brownie mix.

you sigh as you kick off your shoes.

“what the hell did you do?”

“i have it under control” donghyuck whines.

“hyuck—“

“don’t step any closer” he threatens, butter knife in hand.

your hands raise in mock surrender, a flat look sent his way. “you’re being ridiculous”.

“sorry” he puts the knife down, breathing labored. “help me?”

you two sit down on the kitchen floor and have brownies and ice cream for dinner, an ironic feat for a pair of medical professionals, but this is simply one of those things licensed under free will you have as an adult, the kind of thing that makes you think maybe parental supervision is a good need. besides, sugar is good for heartbreak.

“i don’t wanna go to work tomorrow” donghyuck mutters, beginning to consistently tap his head onto the counter, as if attempting to bash his brains out. “this is so stupid”.

“it’ll be fine, i’m sure no one will question you up front”.

he glances upward. “my former sort of boyfriend is fucking the most popular attending neurosurgeon, and people think i was homewrecking whatever the hell they have going, you think people just forget that?”

you lick your spoon clean. “yeah it’s not looking good,” you admit, scratching the back of your head. “but i’m here to help you through it, and samoyed will be there to bark at anyone who looks at you funny”.

donghyuck gives a weak laugh and leans his head onto your shoulder. “yeah yeah, whatever..”

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 5: fuck the domestics, fuck na jaemin.

of course because the universe has a really good sense of humor, mark lee and kim wonil are the first people you and donghyuck see when the elevator dings on the first floor. wonil looks at a loss for words, you’d pride him on such amusement if you weren’t looking to cause him bodily harm.

“uh” mark starts.

“we’re taking the stairs” and since you’re a good friend you do not complain when donghyuck drags you up four flights of stairs.

in his valiant efforts to stay away from neuro, donghyuck gets assigned to obstetrics for the day, whilst you end up back with dr. kim in cardio, which is always a simultaneous blessing and curse. the patient you’re seeing—kiara— has been going back and forth on getting the surgery for a while, and doyoung seemed more than relieved when you showed up with those signed consent forms.

you worked your ass off to get onto this case. you stayed up late all night reading into the procedure, designing a diagram which detailed the surgical process despite the fact that you wouldn’t be carrying it out yourself. observing a complex surgery like this is a rarity for interns, so you intend to soak up every bit of knowledge you can.

so, by design, you’re also standing beside the operating table when her pulse dips, her clutched hand falling dormant in your hold. after the frenzy of orders getting called out and defibrillators charging, there’s nothing but the long, insistent beep of a flatline.

dr. kim calls out the time of death.

realistically, nothing could have been done. she’d waited too long to take the surgery, her vascular walls were weak. it was the best surgeons in the room, and if they couldn’t save her then maybe it was just her time.

you break down in the tunnel despite all of that, you’re sitting on one of the beds against the wall, aware of your own ridiculousness, yet allowing for the tears to brim up anyway.

the only reason kiara was terrified of getting that surgery was because she was afraid of dying on that table, she was scared of dying, and you’d held her hand while they put her under, promising she’d be okay.

that was the mistake.

patient outcomes are never promised, and as much as they remind you, as much as you’re aware that this is in your line of work, death just so happens to spring up on you instantaneously, you can never really fully prepare for it.

“she was going to die anyway” you don’t have to glance up to meet the face behind the voice, simply acquainted with the sight of jaemin’s shoes.

“i know”.

“so why are you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself?”

you sigh, massaging a finger to your temple, your head hurts, it all hurts. “go away” another sob pushes itself up out of your chest, another sniffle, more snot.

but would na jaemin ever genuinely listen to an order? absolutely not. he did not go away, he stepped closer, a hand gracing your shoulder.

your own shoulders slump, you’re completely and utterly disappointed in yourself.

“i don’t need you to say anything,” he breathes. “i’m just telling you that it’s okay..”

“it’s not okay” you seethe. “would you have made the same mistake? would you be in my position if it was you?”

you take everything too personal, you need to start thinking like a surgeon, there’s no room for sensitivity in a field like this, dr. kim had said. he made you break the news to her family, have to watch the washed over expressions and the chorus of sobbing as you attempted to contain your own.

“well i wouldn’t have gotten attached..”

and it sounds so condescending, lowly, superiority reigned over your head. you’ve had a terrible day, and all you can do is sob in your own pity as jaemin just stands there.

it’s so easy to get swallowed up in your pride, tout your pigheadedness in front of jaemin on a regular front with spouted curses and illusions high. you suppose jaemin doesn’t have the best standards for you, you didn’t even do anything, but the fashion of your personality you’d displayed was enough of a case.

“y/n” jaemin calls, soft, you almost don’t hear him. the mattress dips with his added pressure, a hand coming to touch the side of your face, fingertips cold as they tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. jaemin’s hands are always cold. “y/n, hey”.

you don’t respond, can’t do anything but let jaemin pull you against his chest. it’s an odd feeling because it’s the thing you needed from the last person you expected to give it to you. you exhale shakily, closing your eyes and reveling in the prospect of being held.

“you suck at this” you sob, on principle of course.

“hush” jaemin murmurs. he rests his chin atop your head, and he says nothing more, doesn’t even pull away either. you cry until you have no more left to give, your shift isn’t quite over yet, you have charts to finish and labs to read over. you push at jaemin to let you go.

“m’fine” you sniffle, posture straightening as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. you feel reckless, embarrassed, like a child. your face is burning hot, but at least you feel better. jaemin is staring, as if he’s experiencing a certain thing for the first time.

you look away.

“i’m fine” you repeat. “don’t look at me like that”.

jaemin clears his throat as if snapping out of an episode. “i know you don’t care for my opinion, but i think you’re doing great”.

“you what..?”

jaemin nods, doesn’t elaborate on any of it, it’s awkward.

your pager beeps, and once you glance down at the location, you silently curse at the location being half across the hospital.

“right, um thank you, i guess i’ll.. uh, see you later?”

“you know where to find me”.

jeno seeks you out first once your shift is over, apprehensive as always.

“you okay? i heard what happened..”

“yeah m’fine” you pause before the doors to allow jeno to catch you, donghyuck and renjun won’t be done for another hour, and it’s once again pouring outside. “i just need to shower and sleep for fifty hours”.

jeno is already looking at you when you glance over. you’ve heard your fair share of stories concerning surgical failures, much too close to one when in your childhood, but experiencing one firsthand just really took it all out of you.

“i’m going to get better at this surgeon thing right? i have to?” you ask.

“you will” jeno replies, silent. he links your fingers together, a warm feeling. he then nudges you, the slightest bit of comfort in the affection laced gesture. “we both will”.

~

there’s a small switch flip after that.

jaemin remains jaemin. perfectly polished jaemin, hardened in the face of death, all precise and unphased, yet you lay your heart bare for it all, fortitude at the forefront of your emotions.

occasionally, you find yourself looking over at jaemin when he’s too engrossed in his work or conversation to notice.

when you observe him, you attempt to figure out where the fortitude of his beating organ lies. it appears jaemin acts in kindness when he thinks no one else is looking. you wonder if that’s a true display or if that’s simply another mask he wears around for the hell of it, getting into the sweet spots of littler kids is a spectacular move. then again, it takes a special kind of evil to be mean to kids. sure, jaemin’s a bit of an asshole, but he isn’t all bloods evil.

that isn’t such a hard concept to grasp.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 6: running out of terrifically timed titles

the tumultuous disarray of your life provides solace, somewhat regular sex escapades with jaemin continue and donghyuck is often too tipsy once you get home from your shifts later in the week. you surmise he’s simply coping with his situation in manners he’s accustomed to, though both you and jeno would love to chide him for the unhealthiness, you two also can’t talk, ever since you found that unlimited espresso machine in the second floor cafeteria, it’s basically become your life source. jeno will scold you for that one when he eventually finds out, though it’s good to know jungwoo doesn’t mind, simply passing you with mild apprehension whenever you go grab another cup.

you guess you can’t talk about anything, but you also can’t help worrying about your friend.

“l/n, did you follow up on those scans i asked for?” dr. kim unabashedly ambushes you whilst you’re in the middle of a good speed powered walk, files almost tumbling out of your bundled arms.

“uh— yes, they redid them so they aren’t blurry, and i also put in that psych eval you requested, i have all of them here”.

“nice work, will you be available to scrub in tomorrow morning?”

you blink at him, baffled. “i— oh my god yes, thank you um..” you honestly didn’t expect that one after the prior incident with kiara. you assumed for sure doyoung would stand between you and the O.R for a couple of months.

“is there a reason you’re still standing in front of me?”

you blush, embarrassed. “i’m sorry i just.. i know you don’t think i’m cut out for this so I’m unsure of why you chose me”.

for a slim moment, there’s genuine in doyoung’s eyes. “well i’ll have you know opinions can change, will you move out of my way now”.

you pause. “of course, sorry, thank you, i appreciate it”.

“you’d better” he beams, placing yet another stack in your arms. “could you drop these off at the nurses station for me?”

you make your way back downstairs, still reeling from the previous words said to your face, when you hear a familiar voice.

“is dr l/n here? well, no— he’s an intern”.

you look up from the nurses station immediately, catching a glimpse of osaki shotaro’s identifiable tuft of hair, golden blonde, still dyed. he hasn’t changed since you last saw him, well you suppose a few months really don’t provide anything substantial in the area of change.

“taro?”

when he glances up, he breaks into one of his bright smiles and he parts (hyperbole) the hallway to get to you. “y/n, hey, hi”.

“what— what are you doing here? is everything okay? is your mom oka—“

“i’m fine, everyone’s fine it’s just.. i mean— i don’t know actually i was just nearby and i wanted to see you? i know i’m the one who broke up with you and all but i was sure there was a high chance you’d be here instead of.. well anywhere else”.

“yeah” you laugh. “yeah that is true”.

“it’s nice to see you” he fiddles with his bracelet, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, a natural habit, you grab onto his wrist before his fingers can grace your skin. shotaro pauses for a moment, cheeks colored pink in embarrassment as he slips from your hold.

“sorry— i um.. can we just talk actually?”

your face warms rather quickly. “uh..”

“oh hello” jaemin appears—literally out of nowhere—“are you here for a patient?”

“no actually he was just leaving—“

“i’m shotaro” he tilts his head to read jaemin’s id card. “you’re.. dr na?” he extends his hand for a handshake, jaemin ignores it. you almost want to tell him off for such a thing.

“yes, you must be the boyfriend”.

“ex boyfriend” you both say.

jaemin inhales a bated breath, handing you a stack of files. “jungwoo said to give these to you, the chief needs all the records manually inputted before you get off your shift today”.

“but—“

“we’re all splitting work, that’s your stack and this is mine”.

“i’m supposed to be having lunch” you frown.

jaemin shrugs, nothing of helpful. “do them after, i don’t care, i’m just the messenger”.

“it was nice meeting you”.

“sure” jaemin flashes a noncommittal smile, then, as quick as he came, he’s gone.

“is he always like that?” shotaro inquires, you sigh, much loudly.

“yeah, kind of, at first glance..”

“so lunch! can i treat you?”

you chuckle. “well i can’t leave so i hope you don’t mind hospital food”.

it’s (surprisingly) a very enjoyable experience for you.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 7: coupling 1000

on tuesday, lee jeno walks into the locker room looking slightly askew, yet completely elated, brightened in some unusual fashion.

you let out a low whistle. “now what the fuck has you so happy?”

“nothing”.

“is it a guy?”

“no!” jeno refutes, the bright red hue paired with the shrill squeaked ‘no’ do naught for his argument. “it’s not that”.

“you have that after guy glow”.

“you’re insane”.

“he’s right though” jaemin wraps an inviting arm around his shoulder, jeno full on pouts. “you look awfully stunning this morning, jeno”.

“fuck?”

“you’re okay”.

“damn, why’s it feel like every intern in this hospital is getting some but me?” donghyuck grouches, you instantly share a look with renjun.

at the inevitable silence, donghyuck groans again. “don’t answer that”.

“yeah cause you’d only be told the obvio—“

“good morning~” kim jungwoo sings, much too delighted for the time of day. “glad to see all of you interns actually in on time, l/n and na you’ll be helping mark prep his patient, zhong and lee one you’ll be in the pit, and.. huang and lee two on charts, any complaints? wonderful! get going!”

mark lee has the discontented mannerisms of a teenage boy, awkward stutters and all, you often neglect to recall that he’s a revered surgeon prided for performing some of the best brain operations in the country, technically your boss.

you haven’t spent much time around him, you actively avoid kim wonil for the sake of donghyuck’s (and your own) sanity, looking into the eyes of mark lee, he appears bashful, shyly boyish in a manner akin to a formerly stranger lee jeno.

“guess he’s still avoidant”.

you snort, jaemin sucks his teeth, you then sigh with your tongue prodding at the side of your cheek. “well he can’t look at you without thinking about..”

now that you think about it, you’ve never really had a conversation with kim wonil, what’s even with the guy?

“oh” his face drops in that distinct kicked puppy fashion, you merely sigh.

“just give him space, okay? he’ll surely come around”.

“space.. really?”

“space is good” jaemin chimes in. “and either way he’s not your intern, we are, can we go now?”

he’s always been ever so impatient.

~

yang jungwon is a twenty year old college student with a tumor pressing down on his frontal temporal lobe. “it’s affecting his impulse control,” mark warns. “so if he says something a bit forward, that’s why”.

“forward?” you question.

when mark, you and jaemin walk into jungwon’s room, his mother is sitting beside his bed, smoothing over his sheets with her hands. mark bids them good morning and introduces you two as the interns which will be overseeing the surgery, the first thing jungwon says is:

“jesus you all are hot, is that requirement here? why are you all so hot? are there more of you?”

“jungwon” his mother softly chides.

forward, you hum, jaemin only makes an agreeing noise beside you.

“sorry, was that rude? i’m very sorry”.

“he’s usually shy” his mother explains. “he doesn’t mean to be offensive”.

“no offense taken ma’am, that’s probably the nicest thing a patient has said to us in a while” mark replies. “how are you feeling won?”

“my mom’s nervous so now i’m nervous and the food here sucks by the way, i don’t really wanna have brain surgery but i have to be optimistic so yay!”

“that’s the spirit!” mark cheers. “okay, dr. l/n here is gonna run a couple of tests to make sure everything is okay, dr. na will handle all the paperwork, if you still want to proceed i can have you scheduled for O.R two bright and early tomorrow morning, i’ll make sure everything goes smoothly for you okay?”

“can i get snacks from the vending machine to make it go smoother?”

“i’ll do it” his mother offers. “don’t give dr. l/n a hard time, okay?”

mark leaves with jaemin and mrs. yang to grab snacks and necessary consent forms, you begin putting on your gloves to give jungwon a routine examination.

“dr. l/n can i ask you a question?” jungwon asks.

you remove the stethoscope from your ears, giving him a small smile. “go ahead, i’m all ears”.

“well it’s more of a personal question” he twiddles his thumbs, smile stretched widely as he tilts his head towards you. “are you two like.. together?”

“me and who?”

“the other, other hot doctor with all the teeth, the one who was in here just now”.

“me and.. na?”

“yeah, is he your boyfriend? he was looking like he wanted to eat you, i was honestly getting worried by how intense he was staring”.

that shocks a fit of laughter out of you. “no no, he wasn’t—he’s.. he’s not my boyfriend”.

“oh okay, well if nobody’s told you yet then i’m a hundred percent sure he wants to jump your bones, and also be your boyfriend”.

you clear your throat, flustered by jungwon’s sense of earnesty. “we’re not together, just coworkers”.

“do you have a boyfriend?”

you sigh and lean forward, pressing two fingers on either side of his neck to feel for a carotid pulse. “you’ve said the word boyfriend an awful lot in these past few minutes,” you pause. “no i don’t”.

“okay” jungwon says. “this is going to sound a bit presumptuous, but if i survive the surgery, will you go out with me?”

you skillfully sidestep such a question. “that’s not presumptuous, dr. lee is one of the best brain surgeons in the country, he’s going to make sure you come out just fine, your most likely outcome is positive”.

jungwon stops, blinking up at you, galaxies in his pupils. “i think we might be soulmates”.

“yang jungwon”.

“that’s me”.

“you’re cute, and sweet, and funny— but i absolutely cannot go out with you”.

“is it the brain damage thing? i’ve been told that’s a dealbreaker”.

“don’t be cheeky, how old are you again? twenty?”

“twenty going on twenty five”.

you laugh. “you have your whole life ahead of you to find a soulmate, people don’t really have a good time dating me, you’ll be dodging a bullet”.

“what, why not?”

“won—can i call you won?”

“you can call me anything you want..”

“won” you stress, “i spend about eighty hours a week in this hospital, i barely have time to eat or sleep or even think about anything that doesn’t include cutting someone open, my last boyfriend dumped me for that reason, i couldn’t do that again, and i definitely don’t think you want to”.

“ah i see” jungwon says, he’s silent for a while before he asks: “you’re saying it would make sense for you to date someone who works as much as you do, like another doctor, right?”

“well that wasn’t the point but i guess that makes sense then”.

jungwon smiles as if he’s figured out something. “so do you like dr. na then?”

“dr. na is standing right there” jaemin chimes in. you two both turn to see him standing in the doorway, “i have consent forms, i already went over the procedure with your mom, i’m aware mark probably covered it with you, but if it would make you more comfortable i could go over it with you myself”.

both you and jungwon stare at him.

“what?”

“is he always like this?”

you smile in his direction, giggling as you ruffle his hair. “yeah”.

“didn’t peg you as the type to flirt with patients” jaemin utters later in the nurse station whilst you two idle around in feigned ignorance as if you don’t have mountains of work weighing on your shoulders. jungwon had personally asked for you to scrub in on his surgery, and it’s clear jaemin was just the slightest bit envious, you would be too if in his shoes. mark’s surgeries are always the most fun to watch.

“i wasn’t flirting, he was simply asking invasive questions so i entertained him, he’s a nice kid, it’s called having good bedside manners”.

“are you saying i don’t have good bedside manner?”

“your words, not mine”.

“i don’t care, you were definitely flirting back”.

“i thought you didn’t care?”

“i don’t”.

“well there’s your answer”.

jungwon comes out just fine, you and jaemin however, you take a while to recover.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 8: well i guess he’s fine..

at the end of the week you typically only prefer to gorge on the junk food remained tucked in your refrigerator and embrace the warmth of your bed, but everybody knows you don’t always get the things you want, especially you in your kicked rock of a life.

“are you ready?” renjun bounces on his heels, changed out of his scrubs already, breathing down your neck in an effort to fasten your process of changing.

“what are you all doing tonight?” jaemin inquires, suddenly nosy.

“well i wanted to go home to eat ice cream then sleep all night, but since it’s the last wednesday of the month and we have tomorrow off renjun wants to go do karaoke at the local bar”.

“it’s kind of our tradition!” jeno offers, he’s sat down on one of the benches, lacing up his dunks. “you should come with us, drinks are half off until midnight”.

“you should come! it’ll be so fun, y/n has the voice of an angel”.

your cheeks color red in embarrassment. “well actually—“

“stop trying to be humble now, just admit it” renjun then turns to jaemin. “please? you literally never hang out with us”.

you can’t see renjun’s face, but you know he’s using that pleading puppy look to sell his point.

you watch jaemin crumble in real time.

“alright, guess it couldn’t hurt”.

what hurts is your throat after demolishing a flurry of early 2000s hits. now your ears are beginning to pain as renjun, donghyuck and chenle go head to head, they’ve rapped to super bass three times in a row, and donghyuck continuously doubles over in laughter whenever chenle messes up a single lyric. you aren’t complaining though, this is about the happiest you’ve seen donghyuck in the week, it makes you feel all warm seeing him laughing and all full of bashful insults.

jaemin has been nursing the same beer since you’ve arrived, tucked away on the couch in an effort to not participate in such nonsense. it dawns on you that you normally don’t hang out with him outside of the hospital much, and you wonder if he even has friends outside the hospital.

before you stop yourself, you’re wriggling out of jeno’s lap and making your way over to jaemin. he looks over when you get close, eyes traveling from the loose neckline of your shirt to your face.

“hiii”, you greet.

“hello, you’re drunk”.

“just a little” you giggle, hiccuping on nothing. “you look all moody and broody in the shadows, are you not having fun?”

“i am, you guys are just..” jaemin pauses, again glancing back at the scene before seemingly taking back a few words. “i am”.

you hum, whistling in the air. “i need some fresh air, come with me?”

jaemin nods, following behind you in the manner of a shadow out of the establishment. you two end up sitting on the sidewalk, chilling air offering you solace as you attempt to sober up.

it’s chillier than it was before, but you bask in the cold instead, short sleeves acting as nothing of a barrier.

“that was quite the performance back there” jaemin says quietly.

“thank you, yeah i can’t compare to donghyuck but singing is.. you know, just a hobby”.

you shiver offhandedly, jaemin observes for a while before offering you over his jacket, caging it around you in his lingering warmth. you yearn to comment on it, he practically dares you to, so you take it in silence.

“you know what would be amazing? a hot spicy bowl of kimchi jjigae”.

it’s been a while since you’ve been able to cook a genuine meal, the shifts take it all out of you and turning on any kitchen appliances gives you anxiety after a long shift. eating is a whole shove and go sort of a thing, you don’t pay much mind to it anymore. “now why would you put that in my head? i’m hungry” you whine.

“i know a good spot near the hospital, their stuff is like home”.

you ignore the mention of home.

“you’re just making it worse”.

“sorry” jaemin is not sorry. “maybe we can go together after work sometimes”.

“oh, like with the other interns? that’d be nice..”

jaemin looks caught, he swallows down nothing. “no i mean.. just us”.

you freeze. “oh”.

“what? having sex with me is okay but dinner is completely out of the question?”

“no” you reply defensively. “it’s just— us, you know? we can’t even go a few words without arguing, we don’t do dinner, the only thing we have in common is that we’re stuck up surgeons, we don’t do dinner”.

jaemin presses his lips into a flat line, the kind of thing he does when he’s looking for something nice to say. “we’re friends”.

you almost lurch forward, perhaps drinking was not a good idea. you blink, completely knowing of your upcoming decision.

“you know what? yeah, let’s get dinner”.

“right now?”

“no time like the present!” you shout, holding your hand out for jaemin as you rise from the sidewalk. he takes it, intertwining your fingers as you haul him off the ground,

“what about the others?”

“they’ll be fine” you excuse. “come on”.

you realize belatedly that it’s about midnight, which means most, if not all restaurants serving kimchi jjigae are closed. you two end up at the popular twenty four hour ramen spot instead, and you take time to sober up as you two wait in line. hanging off jaemin’s arm, you simply allow your head to lean against his shoulder, the other making no room for little complaints, you’ll regret being all clingy in the morning, but for now, it’s all up in the air. the waitress who seats you eyes you in that knowing way, she thinks you two are a couple, you decide to not correct her, there’s no benefit, she ensures a comment about how cute you two are.

“first thing i want to do after getting my license is..” jaemin begins. “treat the uppers at one of these places, like a celebratory dinner”.

“ramen for surgeons?”

“basically”.

you hum, tongue hot, all warm. “you wanna split this with me?” you inquire, referring to the takoyaki before you on a plate.

“can you even eat all that?” jaemin poses, clicking his tongue as he eyes the spread of appetizers. you aren’t a quitter, especially after a week of subpar meals you didn’t even bother turning on the stove to create. you raise your plate in his direction, offering a takoyaki ball which he takes a stab at.

“have you always wanted to be a surgeon?”

jaemin sighs. “we don’t have to do this”.

“do what?”

“the thing where we ask each other questions and pretend to care about the answers”.

“i do care” you press. “aren’t we friends? answer the question, minjae”.

“is that supposed to be a nickname?” jaemin grumbles. you’ve always had a knack for nicknames, jeno your main victim. “it sucks”.

“answer the question”.

he sighs again, but this time he’s smiling. “i mean, guess i always had the feeling, i was obsessed with that surgeon game when i was younger, i would sneak into my dad’s office and read up on all of his procedures, i read a lot of his stupid textbooks and was hooked forever”.

“oh”.

“yeah”.

“well it probably helped your family’s full of doctors huh?”

he pauses. “not really”.

you stop for a moment. “your dad is na kiwoo, he’s crazy good at his shit, he invented a whole new way to transplant bone marrow! your uncle is literally the chief of surgery at the hospital we intern at!”

you probably appear nerdy, you scratch the back of your ear, somewhat embarrassed. jaemin stares, clearing his throat. “my parents didn’t want me to become a surgeon”.

you are absolutely gobsmacked, jaemin goes through the effort of physically putting your jaw back in its place. “seriously?”

“absolutely, they did everything to make sure i wouldn’t get into the medical field, wanted me to get some bullshit sports scholarship, they refused to pay my tuition and basically said i ruined their dreams of having an olympian son so i went no contact”.

you scoff. “god”.

“right” he grins, though there’s little genuine. “i tried so hard to get into any program that didn’t have to do with guleum but look where i ended up”.

you blink as you attempt to process the influx of information. “but you’re destined for greatness— you’re your parents’ legacy”.

he dismissively waves. “it would be great if they cared, they have their noses buried in their work, can’t believe they thought i wouldn’t take it personal”.

“you’re still mad?”

“what do you think?”

and then he chuckles. you deliver a small smack to his shoulder, along the lines of an affectionate gesture. “they’re dickheads, you’re gonna be one of the best surgeons in the world, besides me”.

jaemin is now the one who’s surprised. “did you just compliment me?”

“hm.. think you’re hearing things”.

“sure” he stops. “so what about you, then? what got you into this program?”

your nose scrunches. “my sister, she always had complications growing up but she had to get a lobectomy when she was young because she had a tumor, after that she couldn’t talk for a while, we spent a lot of time at the hospital so that’s where the interest came from”.

“i didn’t know you had a sister”.

well you didn’t exactly care. “i have three, never a moment of peace”.

“oh i bet”.

your expression falters for a moment. “dad and mom didn’t want me to, get into the medical field that is, they thought i couldn’t do it, said it was a future depicted in failure and that i’d quit at the first loud shout”.

“you? quit?”

he appears genuinely shocked by such a revelation. “are you surprised?”

“kinda” he mutters, opting to glance directly at you. “you’ve always been so persevering, can’t imagine you quitting anything”.

you shrug. “they weren’t around much, i had to kinda fend for myself with three girls running around”.

“well you did it didn’t you?”

“yeah, all those my little pony reruns and sugar cookies” you muse, shaking your head. “i should not know as much as i do about that show”.

jaemin laughs at that one, and you can’t help the pride which swells in your chest. you belatedly realize that you’re enjoying this conversation, you two haven’t had a petty fight in a while, go figure.

“you aren’t that bad”.

“surprise”.

“so why are you so hellbent on proving it then?”

“preconceived notions go a long way, people hear my last name and think seven thousand different things, it gets tiring trying to prove them wrong, i don’t care anymore”.

but if his voice is anything, then he definitely does still care.

“okay so how exactly do you plan on getting home?” he inquires to you, leftover bags swinging in the light wind.

“the night bus”.

“you don’t drive?”

“i would kill myself” you blurt, and jaemin snorts. “don’t laugh, highways are terrifying, besides, the bus is empty at this time”.

“do they really run now?”

you stare flatly. “of course they do, i memorized the running hours”.

he has half a mind to giggle at that one, you then grab onto jaemin’s hand as you drag him towards the nearest bus stop.

your building lights remain blindingly bright once you finally reach your stop, jaemin following behind you in the fashion he always does.

“you really didn’t have to walk me”.

“i needed to make sure you’re in safely” he emphasizes, as if that makes any sense, he opts for an eye roll to sell the stubborn bit.

“aww, what a gentlemen you are minjae”.

he grumbles at the nickname, though his smile threatens to jump up at every glance.

for the first time since you and jaemin eloped, you take a glance at your watch, shocked at it being half past two already. “don’t you have work today? why didn’t you say anything?”

jaemin shrugs, flatly, very jaemin. “you guys were having fun, my shift’s at noon, it’s fine”.

“okay well, goodnight?”

“goodnight,” jaemin replies, and he leans forward for a peck, it’s short and sweet, by the time he’s done, you realize all too late, cheeks gone red as you instead blink.

“uh” you begin, very intelligent y/n, stellar. “that was.. um—“

“you okay?”

“no! i mean— yes i just, that was nice it was nice..” you exhale, “can i have another one?”

jaemin gives in, cupping your cheeks and drawing you in for another kiss. it shouldn’t go on for as long as it does, but you’re much too embarrassing to admit such a thing, instead you let him do it again, and again, and again, all soft against your lips.

“we probably shouldn’t do that again because..” your lips attempt to twitch up, you try to fasten that sincere expression on your features. “well you know—“

“right, no domestic shit” jaemin smiles, all teeth, so cocky.

you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a smile, turning towards the entrance in order to hide it. “goodnight”.

“goodnight” jaemin lingers for a moment, as if he wants to say something more. however, it appears he changes his mind once you glance back at him, he mirrors your turn back and begins walking off.

it’s not until you put the leftovers away and begin undressing for your shower that you realize you forgot to return him his jacket.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 9: the crush-not-crush phase

jaemin does the friend thing exceptionally well, he relays obscure anecdotes that you giggle at and sneaks in slight jabs when doyoung’s in the middle of an important sentence that has you nudging him in the stomach with your arm.

like right now, he’s droning on about a moment when a nanny almost burned down his parents house whilst trying to cook for him and you’re very much interested, sneaking snorts under your breath.

renjun, jeno and donghyuck all arrive, tapping you on your shoulder, you turn to glance with the slightest confusion.

there isn’t an exchange of words, they simply observe jaemin until he smiles, making up a story about having to go check up on a patient.

they all silently watch him leave.

“why’d you scare him off?” you complain, almost tapering off into whining territory.

“i just want to know what’s up with you two” renjun finally says.

you groan, donghyuck pushes as he takes a seat beside you. “we are not having this conversation again”. 

“is he your friend? your boyfriend? an eight month conquest? your shotaro replacement?”

“why does everyone think we’re dating—“

“i ran into him when he was leaving your room this morning” jeno drawls, flat, irritated in that soft way he always is. “i’m about to ask him to start pitching in on the water bill”.

“he’s not over that often”.

your argument falls flat at donghyuck’s eyebrow raise. “he has been this month, do you like him?”

“okay— i hook up with him a few times doesn’t mean i like him”.

“you two keep sneaking off every time we hang out, you basically made him our new pseudo roommate and you were doing that thing you do when you like someone”.

“what thing?”

“you get all giggly and playfully mean—“ donghyuck tucks his hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes, squealing in what you suppose is a high pitched imitation of your voice; “oh jaemin you’re sooo funny!”

you land a punch, neither renjun or jeno reach to stop your action despite donghyuck’s extensive complaints.

“i’m not— it doesn’t matter, how could i like jaemin? he’s a fucking shark, do you not remember what he did to me in my our first month?”

renjun glances around, as if searching around for a better excuse you could tout. “your point?”

“i don’t like him, i’m not dating him, it’s all for sex”.

“how long has this been going on again?”

you wrack your mind for an answer. “we started right after i got dumped so.. around late august?”

“oh my god” donghyuck says, his eyes blown out dramatically. “you’ve been sleeping with na jaemin for THREE MONTHS!?”

you decide to assault him again. “can you not be so loud?”

“and you haven’t killed him yet? ew, you do like him”.

“i don’t— what does—“

“oh you totally do! holy shit, is the dick that good!?”

when you take a liberal pause, renjun immediately crinkles his nose. “don’t actually answer that”.

“i wasn’t going to”.

“you were having sex flashbacks!”

“was not, get over yourself” you snark.

donghyuck looks one mouth opening away from speaking when mark lee suddenly shows up, plopping himself at your table. “is this seat taken?”

“yes!” you and renjun yell in unison.

donghyuck clears his throat. “actually, you were just leaving weren’t you?”

“we were?” you ask dumbly, donghyuck nods, tipping his head towards the door.

oh, you realize what he’s trying to do.

“right” you begin slowly. “just leaving, just going”.

“me too” adds renjun.

“i haven’t finished my sandwich yet..” jeno pouts, and renjun sighs as he grabs ahold of his collar, dragging him away from the lunch table where you’ll leave mark and donghyuck alone. “c’mon, they have something to fix”.

~

when you enter the kitchen the following saturday, donghyuck offers you a mere glance from his book before sighing. “jaemin’s?”

“yep” you pop the p, crouching down as you open the fridge, offering a squint as if your aid will magically appear given your gaze. “are we out of grapes?”

“jeno ate em all, why?”

“nothing, guess i’ll just starve”.

“are you gonna sleep over?”

“i don’t know..”

“sounds close to a yes”.

you glare, donghyuck chuckles.

“practice safe sex youngling!”

you flip him off, he offers you a kiss instead. “sure”.

“enjoy your weekend off!”

you pause before the door and turn back to give him a look, itching to ask a question you’re aware doesn’t have a definite enough answer. “so.. is everything good between you and mark now?”

“i’m working on it” he says, “just working on it”.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 10: blurring the line just a bit

you stumble into jaemin’s room and fall into his bed with your legs tangled. you feel warmth encapsulate you instantly. there’s lightheadedness, as if you’re drunk, intoxicated by the familiar scent of simply jaemin. his hair is in his eyes, yet for a long moment he simply stares. you doubt there’s a definitive way your imperfections could be glimpsed at in the vague orange lamplight, a small frown tugs at your lips.

“what?” you whisper, tentative.

“nothing” jaemin replies, equally silent. “it’s just— you’re just.. you look pretty like this”.

you blank for a moment, brightening yet attempting to shove it downward, reddened. “good, thought you were about to change your mind”.

“hush”.

when jaemin leans down to kiss you it’s soft, and your brain does that stupid malfunction thing once again, you sort of don’t know what to do with it. it’s syrup slow, the way jaemin licks into your mouth and his fingers trail up underneath your shirt, like you two have all the time in the world. you take in a long breath, tugging impatiently at his shirt which acts as a hurdle for you. he chuckles, you feel his smile against your own growing one.

you frown, such an expression heartens jaemin to no end. he’s torturing you, pressing slow soft presses against your soft skin, each press marked by his growing smile as he drags his mouth across each particular edge, exponentially leisure, nothing of vigor and more of attention to specific details. you squirm gradually, jaemin digs the pads of his fingers into your hips to hold you still in place, there’s a gentle edge to it that makes your head spin.

“hey” you tug at jaemin’s hair, and when he glances up at you there’s that huge urge to punch him, or maybe kiss him, do a crazy combination with the grin he’s sporting. “could you— fuck speed it up”.

“don’t you rush me y/n” he drawls, blinking up at you through his terribly beautiful eyelashes. “today is special”.

“it can be special when you get to it”.

“so bossy, maybe you should be in control then”.

despite his clear amusement, lingering insults on his tongue, jaemin again leans down to kiss you. it seems he enjoys that aspect, you don’t let go of his hair, hand on the back of his neck pressing him closer. it’s a good kiss, the slightest bit scary to you. you think you could get used to this, get accustomed to the sight of his dirty blonde hair and his hands pressing into the skin of your hip, possibly leaving marks.

it seems a little scary, but it also seems.. well, it makes you have all those mushy feelings you shouldn’t be having, feelings you’d have a heart attack at having three months ago.

you suppose you are blurring the lines a bit here, teeth ground and face buried into his neck, as if you were attempting to crawl into his skin. jaemin holds you and talks you through it like a lover would, it does terrible things to you, terrible terrible thoughts swirling around in your brain.

in the morning, you awake alone. you lie there for a moment, sunlight peeking through the curtains, then you allow your head to fall once more, taking in a deep breath which inadvertently means you’re smelling jaemin’s pillow. you shake your head instantly at such a thought, it’s really all over for you.

you settle for a moment before finally rising from your place, more of rolling off jaemin’s bed and almost breaking your bones with the fall on the floor.

you go through the motions, brushing your teeth and attempting to fix your hair, eventually just leaving it half done. you then venture into jaemin’s closet, grabbing at a random black hoodie and pulling it over your head.

you hear a commotion, head whipping in the direction of the door. you blink, poking your head out of the bedroom door. “jaemin?”

“i’m fine, it’s all fine! nothings burning down”.

you shuffle your way out of his room, feet mute against his bare floor. jaemin has his back to you, in nothing but a practically see through white shirt. “what’s this?”

“breakfast” he muses, eyes seemingly jumping when he catches a glimpse of you.

you lean over his shoulder, nosy as ever, his face is flat. “what?”

jaemin squints. “do you not like pancakes?”

“what kind of question is that? everyone likes pancakes” you reply, breakfast is one of the most foreign meals to you, you haven’t had an actual real breakfast meal in a startling while. “i thought you didn’t like strawberries”.

“they’re not for me” he says, nose scrunched. he uses a fork to cut up the pieces, getting an equal amount of each ingredient before holding it up to your face. “open up”.

“i know how to use a fork myself, you know”.

“open up”.

you drop your mouth open and allow jaemin to feed you, he observes you eat like a hawk. “good?”

you nod enthusiastically.

jaemin smiles, a real, toothless smile that blossoms alluringly over his features. “alright, eat breakfast, then we can go back to sleep”.

you pause, chewing. “i could’ve helped make breakfast”.

“well i didn’t want to wake you” you’re unaware of when he got closer, you opt to not question it, simply allowing his arms to circle around your waist and for him to kiss you once again. his presses are slow, lazy, warm, his sigh in tandem with him pushing you up against the counter.

“can’t i eat?”

“you look good”.

“my hair looks like shit..” you mumble, in response he ruffles it, which earns a grunt as you attempt to escape his hand by leaning backward. “and you just ruined it again”.

“i didn’t do anything” he’s got that smile on again, the one without his teeth, you found you enjoy capturing glimpses of that one much more than you’d ever gloat. “now eat, lord knows how long it’s been since you’ve had breakfast”.

he makes it up to you by helping you wash your hair in the shower, practically putting you to sleep with his ministrations, hand motions paired with a warm stream of water a dealing blow. he lets you do the same for him, sneaking in kisses between rinses to make your time a bit more difficult, water flicked your way resulting in slight squeaks. you spend the afternoon on the couch, bickering over what to watch before eventually settling on a drama you’d been recommended, cuddling closely, though napping quickly overtakes you. jaemin is heavy against your chest, and when you wake up past sunset, there’s a noticeable cramp in your arm, yet it’s the happiest you’ve felt in years.

~

it’s no wonder things change after that.

you see jaemin in the hallways of the hospital, messy hair paired with eye bags and your heart starts beating erratically. it remains in such fastened motions whenever he sends you a smile at lunch, or when you’re around the rest of your friends and can’t help but just.. stare. your chest warms inexplicably whenever he purposely bumps into you in the locker room or leans against you once he’s worn out, in the manner of a mind reader who knows what exactly such things to do your weak heart.

you’re still hooking up, obviously, but it’s become so ridiculously domestic that you’re unaware of when such lines began blurring.

jaemin brings you coffee, placing it atop the nurses station and patiently awaiting your response, smile akin to a cat bringing their owner a dead rodent as a gift.

you blink at it, then up at him, smiles all high. you recognize the doodles on the cup as from the cafe down the street, yet your mind is still the slightest bit woozy from a frankly terrible three hour sleep. “what’s this?”

“a little pick me up” he replies. “can’t just keep throwing back espresso shots, that’s unhealthy”.

how jaemin even figured that out is something you neglect to mention, you presume he’s some sort of alien mind reader, completely inhumane. you would’ve bitten back with a snarky remark a few months ago, yet it appears your mind is full of gray static now. you shake your head and go back to reading over the patient notes.

“i can’t drink that”.

“it’s your order” he drawls, and your eyes again shoot up.

“what.. uh— shit”.

jaemin pokes at your shoulder, sliding the cup over and encouraging you to take a sip. you’d argue with him, if you could with how he’s staring.

he was right, it is.

“how’d you even..?”

“i have my ways,” he brightens.

“thank you” you whisper.

“it’s nothing” he leans in to dart a kiss to your temple. “take it easy, okay?”

and your world successfully tilts on its own axis, you really need a word for that one.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 11: desperate times desperate looking man

“i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages,” renjun whispers. you’re sneaking into the NICU between patients, like you typically do when swallowed with work. the tiny preemie babies are so cute, they’re simply giving it their all to survive, it encourages you to keep going in the slightest bit. also did you mention they’re absolutely adorable?

“are you finally moving out? are you taking jeno with you? am i free?”

“i’m not leaving, stop trying to divorce me” you say, smacking donghyuck’s shoulder in retaliation to such words. “has jaemin been acting any weird around you?”

“you mean like— weirder than normal?” donghyuck raises an eyebrow, renjun distracted by cooing at the sleeping NICU babies. you always wondered the extent of dreams infants have, constantly intrigued by such a thing.

“no not really” he replies, nudging renjun slightly in an effort to get him back on track. the older startles out of his admiring daze, blinking in your direction.

“jaemin? jaemin’s always been weird, why are you asking?”

“i don’t know he’s acting.. different, i’m a little worried”.

“different how?” renjun does his award winning judgmental gaze, amping up your consciousness.

“well you know how i slept over at his place last weekend—“

“and spared me the ear bleeding noises yes”.

“shut up, this morning he got me coffee before rounds started, he kissed me and told me to take it easy, since when has jaemin cared about that?”

renjun and donghyuck exchange one mere glance before the latter speaks up; “you know what that sounds like? i think you sucked and fucked your way into a relationship”.

“don’t swear in front of the babies!”

“and don’t ever say sucked and fucked again” renjun glares, nose crinkling in disgust.

donghyuck sucks his teeth, though ignoring renjun’s distinct complaint. “seriously y/n, if you can’t see with your huge fucking eyes that jaemin has something for you, that might be a huge problem”.

your arms drop at their sides, readying up some terrible rebuttal when your pager goes off, you immediately sigh once jaemin’s name pops up. “speak of the devil” you muse.

when you walk into the E.R you spot him immediately.

“hey, what’s up?”

“just need you to come look at something for me” he immediately says. “i have a theory, but i need a second opinion”.

a smug smile creeps onto your face. “are you asking me for a consultation right now?”

he rolls his eyes. “don’t act coy, there’s a lady with glitter glue in her ears, you seriously have to see this”.

you let him lead the way.

~

it’s eerily quiet in the intern locker when you walk in to grab your phone, one single being in the room, that of na jaemin, lying back on one of the benches, leg propped up. once he catches sight of you, he sits up.

“hey”.

“hi” you reply.

“out or in?”

“out, apparently i hit my eighty hours for the week, jungwoo cut me off”.

“that sucks, i’m on call tonight”.

“that does suck” you hum, shoving your phone in your bag as you eye the suspicious way his leg is propped up. “what’s up with your leg?”

“nothing, it’s just— my knees a little sore, that’s all”.

you frown slightly. “let me see”.

“you know i’m an adult, right? i can take care of myself”.

“hush” you respond, flatly staring as jaemin sits back on the bench, allowing you to poke at the wrap around his knee.

“it’s an old injury” he says. “it’s supposed to be fully healed but it still troubles me sometimes”.

your mouth drops open in a silent ‘ah’, “speed skating, right”.

“yeah, i was just telling choi about it, i don’t know why everyone is so surprised i used to speed skate”.

“you’ve been telling everyone about your secret past? i don’t feel special anymore, na jaemin” you tease. you sit up on the bench, satisfied jaemin wasn’t lying about wrapping it up properly. you’re supposed to go meet your family after this, but you don’t want to leave jaemin’s side just yet, call it obsession.

“relax” jaemin drawls, giving you a salacious wink. “they all know i only have eyes for you”.

you ignore the heat rising in your ears. jaemin has been much more forward with his advances lately, unabashed, little shame, which reminds you—“everyone thinks we’re dating, you know? you’re fueling the fire”.

“you know i don’t care what people think of me”.

liar.

“well i care” you answer. “about us, about.. uh— well, people always talk, you know? makes me anxious”.

“you sure you want me to stop flirting with you? really?”

“yes” you have an airy undertone lacing your voice, eyes sliding towards jaemin’s mouth, you realize lately that all you want to do is kiss him. you’re about fully prepared to when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“you got somewhere to be?”

you shoot off a text to your younger sister to assure her that you will indeed not be late. you meet jaemin’s eyes and hesitate for a moment, though you’re unsure of why. “yes actually i have a reunion, well— not exactly a reunion but my parents want me to come home for some reason, probably gonna try to set me back up with my ex like they do every single time..”

there’s a small shift in his expression. “oh? didn’t they try to do that last week? or was that something else?”

“shotaro offered last week and i couldn’t turn him down, they’re trying to push me back to another ex”.

“ah”.

you pick up your bag and stand to head out of the door.

“i promised my sisters i wouldn’t be late, can’t leave them alone at home, if they make anything good i’ll bring around leftovers” you look over your shoulder. “text me when you get home?”

jaemin neglects to respond, you squint as you look at him.

“jaemin?”

“what? oh yeah, yeah, i’ll text you”.

~

jaemin does not end up texting.

you’re aware of that because you continuously glance over at your phone whilst your parents mutter on their meticulous jargon, sneaking in less than vague insults pertaining to your character. you keep checking for some sort of ping, a rogue emoji or videos of his cats that he enjoys sending so much. you only get texts from donghyuck asking what kind of pasta noodles he should buy for dinner, nothing else.

“are we boring you?” your youngest sister inquires, her head leaning against her head as she takes liberal glances towards your own phone.

you sheepishly put your phone away, you have no idea what anybody has been droning on about for the past few minutes, and you’re much too embarrassed to ask. “sorry no, please continue”.

later, you get home and crawl into your sheets, swiping the notification bar one last time to see if jaemin sent anything. disappointment. you tossed and turned for a moment, uncomfortable in the air of your room. it’s late, jaemin clearly had a long day and crashed as soon as he got home. he isn’t obligated to text you everyday, especially when you’re both equally busy in your own right. nevertheless, you briefly entertain the idea of showing up at his place just to see how he’ll react.

that would be crazy, you freak, is what your inner conscious speaks. he’s not your boyfriend or anything.

you do wish jaemin were here, though, he warms your presence in just the slightest.

you get up one last time, grabbing a dormant pusheen plushie left on your floor and pressing your face into it, a silent scream escaping your lips. you peer over at your phone one last time, finally deciding to take a leap.

goodnight, you text, pausing. you take a few moments, typing out i miss you a good six times before deleting such an idiotic message, you two saw each other no more than a few hours ago, why would you even send that? your hands are clammy.

maybe he caught something?

in the next minute, you practically jump up on your feet as your message is registered as seen. you sit up on the bed, observing text bubbles pop up and disappear for several minutes. eventually, jaemin settles on simply hearting your message.

he didn’t even say it back, but your heart is racing, and an irreversible warmth encapsulates you. the sides of your mouth curve upward involuntarily as you think of jaemin, his stupid jokes and his wide smile and his messy blonde hair, lying in bed deciding over how to respond to a ‘goodnight’ text. it’s just a text. a mere reaction even, nothing of a true response, yet this is a feeling you haven’t had in a long time.

lovesickness, you realize.

oh lord.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 12: and zhong chenle was right in the end

“fucking finally” chenle’s mouth does that swivel upward and he beckons renjun closer. “pay up”.

“what? no, this doesn’t count, he hasn’t even told jaemin how he feels yet” renjun argues.

donghyuck taps his feet onto the floor, nudging you with his shoulder as he shares a knowing look, you stick out your tongue, though completely anxious about your upcoming circumstances. “told jaemin how i what?”

chenle sighs as if the whole world rests atop his shoulders. “jaemin romances you every single day, cooks for you, buys you cute gifts, asks for free consults and you’re still wondering how he feels for you? you sure you were at the top of your class back in university?”

jaemin walks in then.

“jaemin!”

you internally wince at the extent of your excitement, tone overwhelming. “um.. hi”.

“hey”.

“you never texted”.

“must’ve slipped my mind”.

“cool— uh, listen” over jaemin’s shoulder, chenle gestures you a thumbs up, renjun making a cut throat motion across his neck whilst donghyuck simply observes the whole thing in the manner of daytime entertainment. “uh.. i’m— we’re ordering in tonight, pizza and a movie are you down?”

jaemin opens his locker and doesn’t look at you. “sounds a little boring, sorry..”

“we don’t have to watch the movie” you suggest, screw shame, you’re as desperate as they get.

he blinks over at you, as if attempting to keep himself grounded though looking into your eyes.

“i’ll pass, have fun though” he replies, “see you all tomorrow” then he’s picking up his jacket, rushing out the locker room in an instant, cutting you off quickly. he practically runs into jeno on his way out, startling the other into donghyuck’s personal space.

“what’s up with jaemin? he looks like his cat just died”.

you turn to renjun and chenle. “he just rejected me, right?

“that money is literally mine” chenle grits his teeth.

“you’re all useless”.

by the time you make it to the lobby, jaemin is about finished with his daily wrap up talk with the receptionist, bag over his shoulder and head pointed towards the door. you’re fully aware of how pathetic you must seem currently, but you suppose nothings worse than not getting the truth out of him.

“hey.. hey, jaemin, slow down?”

jaemin blinks again, the irritated furrow of his eyebrows jumping out at you immediately. “what do you want?”

“i want you to talk to me”.

“what’s there to talk about?”

“you— gosh, you’re so confusing, you know? i can’t read minds, can’t you just tell me what i did wrong?”

and how you ended up outside is beyond you, perhaps it was the better decision, after all, arguing in front of the front desk lady is about as embarrassing as it gets.

jaemin scoffs, glancing down at his watch as if he’s unaware of the time, his apple watch lights up and the background is a picture of his cats, the wallpaper is helplessly adorable, it endears you to no end.

“you didn’t do anything”.

“well you don’t exactly make that obvious with how you’ve been avoiding me, you’ve been weird ever since i told you i started hanging out with shotaro again”.

“that— that has nothing to do with it, what you do out of work is none of my business”.

you try not to feel hurt by that one, you’re aware of what jaemin is trying to do. “so what is it?”

jaemin bites into his cheek. “can’t you drop it?”

“no” you refuse, slightly blocking his way though he could probably carry you on a bad day. “you’re going to have to tell me or get through me”.

“are you insane?”

that almost earns a well deserved fit of laughter, you suppose you are at this point. “you’re being immature, we have all night”.

jaemin gives a long hard stare, and you actually think he’s about to push you out of the way, leave you rejected on the cold sidewalk, but then he sighs, picking at the ends of his hair before breaking into a sigh. “i let you down, you know?”

you blank, arms dropping at your sides as you instead give continuous blinks. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

jaemin looks a crossbred of punching you and kissing you. “of course you don’t remember it’s— god you say things and barely even mean them cause you just talk so much, you know? you make me mad cause you do these little things that just piss me off and i just don’t understand you, you care about people so much and you’re so bossy but you’re also so.. cute, and nice, and you’re funny and you always do these things that make me realize i’m stupidly in love with you, there, that’s it”.

your heart resounds like a drum in your ears. “jaemin—“

“i fell in love with you, okay? and i know you told me not to, didn’t want us devolving into any domestic shit but.. i am, present tense, i’m in love with you”.

oh, you suppose there’s always a catch.

“you done now?” you ask.

“am i— yeah” jaemin laughs, dry and all. “i’m done, are you happy? can i go home now?”

“no” you pull him by the front of his jacket to kiss him, it’s cute that jaemin is clearly surprised by it, the broken whimper he allows to escape when you bite into the swell of his bottom lip is even cuter. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and for a few sweet moments you forget you’re in front of your building of occupancy. you pull away with your cheeks hot as you rest your foreheads together, suddenly amused.

“thought you would’ve let your parents set you up with your ex”.

“and you didn’t think to ask me?”

“i mean— we never talked about.. this”.

“because you said it would be weird!”

“oh so i’m the bad guy now?”

“yes! yes you are!”

“i told you i was in love with you all you had to say was—“

“shut up” you snap, cupping his impossibly perfect face between your hands. “lord i like you so much, love you an excruciating amount and i miss you all the time even though i see you everyday, you’re so annoying and you have that addicting smile and it’s— you piss me off”.

“as you’ve said before”.

“but.. you know, guess it wouldn’t hurt to try”.

he kisses you again and you can’t help how you smile against his own lips.

“you wanna come back with me?”

jaemin pretends to think it over, as if your fingers aren’t entwined and you don’t already have butterflies alive in your stomach. “i’m worried, what happens if my helmet swallows your tiny little head whole”.

“so romantic na, i’ll have to give you an award for that one”.

“aww, really?”

“no”.

jaemin sticks out his tongue, one last peck given to your lips before you two were off.

when you get back to your place, jaemin falls asleep on your lap midway through the movie like an exhausted old man, or maybe just the young surgeon subjected to the torturous work hours at guleum grave hospital just trying his best. you can’t believe how fond you are, gaze brazen in a manner that renders you nauseous. unable to resist, you reached out to tuck strands of his hair behind his ear.

you hate yourself, it’s just the slightest bit terrifying, you’re fearful at the oncoming future and the enigma of na jaemin in his all. you just want to make sure he wants this, the mushy and sticky feelings which come with the whole process. he is a mystery, yes, but he’s also kind, and patient, and so full of boundless devotion that he probably isn’t even sure he retains.

jaemin jerks awake once jeno flicks on the lights of the living room, but he settles down quickly once he realizes he’s in your lap, you run your fingers through his hair, quietly aching.

he blinks up at you slowly. “i missed the movie”.

“you did” you murmur, “wanna go to bed?”

“yeah” jaemin grabs ahold of your hand in his hair, fingers intertwined, beginning to leave light kisses on your wrist, just above your pulse. he’s so cute like this, so soft looking with his delicate feeling lips and soft all around the edges. you might get sick from the absorbent amount of love you happen to be feeling, his eyelashes flutter in your direction, a smile tugging at his lips which you mirror.

it’s a match made on this soul sucking earth. it’s only a little perfect.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Santa Tell Me

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: It's your first time celebrating Christmas with Joe as a couple as your first semester at LSU comes to an end. The two of you celebrate in your own little way seeing as Joe is going back home while you are headed to New Orleans. However, you confide in your best friend about your hesitations about getting into another relationship so quickly and hoping that what feels like a fairy tale isn't too good to be true

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The timer went off once again letting you know that all of the cookies were now officially done baking. As you were taking them out of the oven and placing them on the cooling rack, Erin attempted to grab one to eat it when you quickly slapped her hand away resulting in her letting out a yelp followed by her glaring at you.

“Ow!”

“Those are specifically for Joey so we can decorate them once he gets here. I literally just made you an entire cheesecake.”

“But I want a cookie, too!” Erin exclaimed, but you weren't budging.

“No and he should be here soon.”

As you sat at the table in your small kitchen, Erin sat across from you and had begun eating her cheesecake when you suddenly asked her a question which caught her off guard.

“Erin, what if me and Joe break up? And that cheesecake was not meant for it to be eaten in one sitting.” You casually asked as you unlocked your phone to play one of the many games that you had installed.

“Huh? What in the world are you even talking about? And I'll just ask for another one.” She asked as she put her fork down to look at you.

“What if we break up and we don't work out? I literally just hopped from one relationship to another and…”

“Stop. Just stop. I have on my Christmas sweater and I am eating my Christmas treats you made me and we are listening to Justin Bieber's Under the Mistletoe and you are fucking the vibe up.”

“But…”

“No, we are not doing this. You two haven't been together very long, but Joe literally worships the ground you walk on. The way he even looks at you is insane. That boy is IN LOVE.” Erin said as she now opened the freezer to take out the ice cream you thought you were discreetly hiding from her, but it looks as though you efforts had failed.

“But what if it's too good to be true? Sometimes It doesn't even feel real.”

“You literally have no idea of what happiness looks like even if it hits you in the face. He has been after you basically the entire semester and now that he finally has you and you have him, you think that the two of you are going to end up breaking up? Make it make sense, babe.”

“Everything started out too good to be true with Trevor and look what happened with that.”

“Uh no, boo. Trevor had been an asshole from the beginning, it just took you forever and a day to notice. Everyone else saw it but you. You’ve been treated like shit for so long that your ass is literally blinded to how good you actually have it. I mean Joe hit me up a few weeks ago to help him pick out your Christmas gift or gifts I should say.”

“Wait, he did what?”

“Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say anything so let’s just pretend I didn’t. But they're really pretty and I know that you’re going to like it.”

“I just… he’s really important to me and I just want this to work out between us.”

“And it will. I literally started planning the wedding the day you two met because I saw the way you lit up when you talked about him. It’s going to work out and I will be the first person to say ‘I told you so’ when you are walking down the aisle.”

“I’m holding you to that seeing as it’s still pretty early to be singing about wedding bells.”

“But for now, it’s December, we almost made it through our first semester as college students, you have a very cute boyfriend who wants to spend every waking moment of the day with you so you need to make the most of it.”

“You’re right, I do need to make the most of it seeing as it’ll be a few weeks where we won’t see each other since he’s going back home.”

“And his birthday is coming up too. So, my vote is to have Christmas early with the two of you. Hopefully by doing this you won’t miss him so much on the actual day since the two of you kind of already celebrated in your own way.”

“I mean, I did get us matching Christmas pajamas to decorate our cookies, drink hot chocolate, and watch cheesy Hallmark movies.”

“See? Perfect. And I know that he is going to love every minute of it. But for now, I am going to go study for one of my many finals and hope and pray that the words on the pages in the textbooks somehow transfer themselves to my brain. Let me know how everything goes.” Erin told you as she wrapped up her cheesecake and placed it in a plastic bag hoping none of the filling would get on the seats in her car.

“Me saying ‘I told you so’ is going to hit so hard in a few years. But….” She was cut off mid-sentence as there was a knock on the door.

“And look at that, there he is. Let's go see your future husband.”

You couldn't help but to laugh and shake your head at Erin as she was gathering all of her things, while you went to go and answer the door. Once you did, you were met with your boyfriend carrying a shitload of different bags and him leaning down to kiss you.

“Okay, you two! Spare my eyes, I'm leaving so Joe can turn you every way but loose without me having to see it.”

“Bye, Erin.” Was all you said as she continued to smile at the both of you.

“Hi Joe, Bye Joe.” She told him as he fully walked into your apartment as she was headed out the door.

“Bye Erin.”

Once the two of you were by yourselves, you immediately started questioning Joe about the many bags he brought.

“Uh, babe? Are you moving in and didn't tell me yet?” You asked and he let out a laugh before starting to open some of them and pull out their contents.

“I just bought a bunch of different things we could do. It's almost finals week and I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. And you have literally been playing this album since the day after Halloween.”

“Aww, I love it. Okay so tell me what you bought. And what about it!?” You asked as he had set everything down and motioned for you to sit down on the couch so he could show you.

“So my chess set. Ever since I taught you how to play, you said that you were going to try and beat me before the semester was over and never mind that I even said anything. Low key convinced that you're going to break up with me and get with Justin.”

“Very true but athletes are my thing, not singers.”

“My telescope since you love learning about space as much as I do. And I guess that means I'm safe?”

“I am loving this so far and yes, babe. You're safe.” You told him as you placed the chess set on the table.

“Madden. Since I know if you were able to be on the field with us, you would be. But I mean I can't sing all that well, but if you want me to serenade you just say the word.”

“Good point and seriously?” You replied while laughing.

“And I think that's it for now. I could only carry so much. But you'll be the one hitting high notes with how good I'm making you feel.” He told you as he shrugged while you gave him a small smile while also shaking your head at him.

“It's absolutely perfect and I have something for you too. I'm ignoring that last part.”

“What is it? Before the night is over, I'm making it happen.” Joe said as you ran into your bedroom to find the bag that they were in before coming back out into the living room.

“Matching Christmas pajamas.”

“Oh, so we're that type of couple now?” Joe teased as you rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and this is literally going to happen starting from this year until forever.” You replied as Joe moved closer towards you and put his finger underneath your chin in order for you to be able to look up at him.

“Forever? I like the sound of that.” He quietly said while leaning down to kiss you.

“But for now, we also have cookies to decorate that I baked and hot chocolate to drink.”

“Let’s do it.”

The two of you got comfortable in your pajamas before starting to decorate the cookies and you were multitasking with making the hot chocolate at the same time.

Joe was concentrating hard when you decided to peek over and take a look at what he was doing.

“Joey, I thought you were making a Santa cookie?” You asked while a little bit confused on what you were actually looking at.

“I am! This looks like Santa! I just need to do his beard.”

“And his hat.” You added noticing that was missing also.

“Not everyone can be an amazing baker in their spare time like you.”

“Hmm, you're right, but it doesn't look bad. If I opened my own bakery, I might hire you. I do happen to be a woman of many talents. So, someone mentioned to me that you got my Christmas gift already?”

Joe stopped decorating his cookie to look at you with a blank stare.

“No. I'm not telling you what it is and I am never telling Erin anything else ever again.”

“But babe!”

“No. Final answer.” Joe replied as you rolled your eyes at him which then led to him pinching your cheek.

“Fix your face. I want it to be a surprise and I don't plan on spoiling it for you.”

“Well I got you a gift for your birthday as well as Christmas. It didn't feel right combining both of them together.”

“And unlike my girlfriend, I'm going to be patient and wait.”

“You mean to tell me that you aren't the least bit curious about what I got you?” You asked him and you could tell he was thinking about his answer before he said it.

“Nope.”

“Liar. I know that you definitely want to know. But I'll just say I know that both of them are something that you're really going to love.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him.

“As much as I love you?”

“No, but knowing you it might come close.” You told him as you were now putting the final touches on the hot chocolate you made for the two of you and handed him his mug.

“And like I said, I'll be patient unlike some other people.”

“I'm ignoring you. Anyway, break out the telescope since it's clear tonight and we'll be able to see something.”

Once Joe had gotten the telescope set up by the window, you were just finishing your hot chocolate and went to place your mug in the dishwasher before going back into the living room and seeing Joe with a bashful smile across his face.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” You asked while wrapping your arms around him and Joe leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before responding to you.

“I'm about to show you. Stand in front of me and look through it. Don't adjust anything.” He said as he slowly turned you around so that you would be facing it.

You did as you were told and noticed that it was focused on one single star.

“I see it, babe. What's so special about it?” You asked as you turned back to look at him and he simply handed you an envelope.

“It's the star that I got named after us.”

Your eyes went wide and a smile broke out on your face as you took out the contents of the envelope and it simply said Y/N and Joey's Star at the top.

Underneath was a map detailing where you would be able to find it.

“So no matter where we are, whether together or apart. We can be able to look at it at the same time. This isn't a part of your Christmas gifts by the way, I just wanted to do it since I figured you would like it.” He shyly told you as the smile became wider on your face. You didn't say anything, but simply wrapped your arms around him once again.

“This was… no… this is definitely the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I honestly wouldn't have even been upset if this did end up being my Christmas gift. I love it and I love you which you already knew, but I figured that I would tell you anyway.” You quietly told him as he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips.

“And I love you. Remember earlier how you mentioned that matching pajamas are going to be a thing for us forever?” Joe asked and you gave him a swift nod.

“Mm hmm, what about it?”

“This is also going to be something that we have forever. Any time we get in a disagreement or we're not seeing eye to eye with each other, we need to remember that we're in this together for the long run. And looking up at the star can remind us of that. I know we haven't been together for very long, but I want this with you and I've been saying from day one how I'm going to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” Joe confessed and the smile on your face couldn't help but to get bigger.

“I'm going to hold you to that Burrow.”

“How about you hold me to this too? Look up for me?”

As you looked up, you saw that Joe was holding a mistletoe above the both of you.

“Any excuse to get more kisses from me, huh?” You playfully asked him and was met with a smirk.

“I mean, I've been getting kisses from the moment I got here, but this is just a plus.” He told you as he leaned down and you reached up to meet him halfway.

“And there will be many more where that came from.”

“Santa definitely did his big one this year.”

“How so?”

“I get to spend it with someone who I know cares about me just as much as I care about them. That's literally all I asked for.”

[emoisthenewemu]

Favorite present! ~ Megumi Fushiguro x GN! Reader

A/N i live for soft boy megumi like SORRY but he is sensitive I don’t make the rules. i love him sm and plan to write more for him in the future.

If you were to ask Megumi Fushiguro what his favorite present was this year, he would probably say you.

Wc:1086

"Meguuumiiii" You whine from the hall, holding a cardboard box full of your friends' presents. Ones you handmade with blood, sweat, and literal tears. In fact, you had begun the project as early as October (before Halloween even).

What at first seemed to be a cute idea of making stuffed animals soon turned into a pain in the ass, taking up most of your free time.  Of course when you and Megumi would see each other you would refrain from letting it distract you but the very second he left or even fell asleep there you went-crocheting away. When he would walk in your dorm after a long day of class?

There you sat, legs crossed and an ever-so determined look on your face. Hunched over in a way that looked painful-which it definitely was because you had been complaining about your horrible back pain for the past two months.

Every time the two of you would FaceTime you would be groaning and sighing, complaining about how it was crooked or you put too much stuffing. That your fingers were cramping or now you need to start all over because it looks just awful.

Oh how annoying it was for Megumi to sit and watch you suffer over something absolutely no one is forcing you to do. He told you countless times to just give up and ‘buy everyone gift cards like a normal person’.

But he soon learned his lesson because every single time he said anything like that it just ended in a speech about how important it is to ‘finish things you started’ and you ‘promised yourself it wouldn’t be another abandoned project sitting in the closet’. Yes, Megumi understands. He still thinks you are insane. And he will tell you so.

“Isn’t that why you love me?” You say and he can only nod.

Megumi loves your tenacious spirit. How passionate you are about the things you care for. How lucky he is to be one of the things you are very passionate about. It is the only reason he continues to support you in your endeavor. As long as you promise you will not be doing this shit again next year. He even puts a cute little Santa hat on and wears matching slippers with you. It only took like five minutes of begging!

The only thing that continues to bother him is that you did not make him one. Surely you would have mentioned it by now. He would have seen it one of the countless times he walked in to find your room scattered with yarn and your many ‘rough drafts’. He would also be lying if he did not admit he went snooping around a few times when you were showering in the hopes of finding his.

Kugisaki is getting a white bunny. A pink bear for Itadori. There’s an animal for Maki, Yuuta, Inumaki, Gojo, a panda for Panda (duh), and nothing for him.

Maybe you forgot. You’ve been so busy making all of them and it must have slipped your mind. You probably did not even think he would want one. He has no stuffed animals in his room or anything even remotely similar. It’s not like he would cuddle it at night and think about you or anything.

So he delivers the gifts with you-with a smile on his face. Whatever Megumi considers to be a smile at least. Even ignoring the comments of how ‘whooped’ he is to be standing there matching with you. A thing he once swore he would never do.

Until he met you. You softened him up like butter. Gone is the aggression that was always his go-to in any situation. The way you loved him made him feel complete. He used to find it absurd that falling in love could change a person.

But you change him for the better. You challenge him emotionally without trying to change who he is deep down. You bring out the best and suppress the worst of him. Oh how Megumi loves you, more than words can describe.

It is your first Christmas together. As a couple at least so he may have went a bit overboard with the presents. He was trying very hard to impress you. He would be deeply embarrassed if he got you a bunch of presents and you got him nothing.

Surely that would not happen. You gave him a present last year. Why would this one be any different?

He is just anxious, a feeling he knows a bit too well. Megumi is an overthinker, sometimes he will let even the smallest things eat him up inside. He is nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek, holding the now empty box as you finish giving away your last present.

You grab his hand, squeezing it tight before pressing a kiss onto his cheek. “Thanks for coming with me handsome. Im so glad this is over” You groan and he chuckles at the exasperated look on your face. “You were so right. Never again” You peck his cheek again and he smiles contently.

Your touch is so comforting he does not even realize the two of you are heading back to your dorm instead of his. Too lost in the warmth of your smooth hands and intoxicating giggle.

It is not until you open the door and walk him inside that he understands that all of his worries were for nothing. Sometimes he forgets that you might love him just the same way he loves you. Maybe even more like you swear you do. He feels almost silly for doubting you. As he should.

Your small twin bed is covered in presents. His presents. They range all different sizes. But right in the middle, atop one of the gifts sits two little crochet figures.

Two wolves, a white and a black one.

His chest is warm and tingly. Megumi pulls you into a hug. Arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head digging into the nape of your neck-he swallows the lump forming in his throat.

“Thank you” Megumi sighs into your chest, moving up to kiss your neck lovingly.

“Ohh Megs” You chuckle, trying to jump excitedly up and down but his arms prevent you from doing so. They grip you tighter. “You need to open them first!”

And he says something so cheesy he would have thrown up if the moment wasn’t so sweet. “You’re the only present I need”

[leejeann]

Pls tell me/us about your Cinderella Boy AU úwù

Oh hi Anon, I am SO GLAD YOU ASKED :D. I was literally working on it when I got this ask, very nice timing, friend

(i will, uh, try not to make this an excessive amount of paragraphs but bare with me, I'm a yapper).

So, tl;dr Cinderella Boy College AU babyyyy. Chase is a first year music theater major (he started a year late), and Buddy is a second year creative writing major.

(I don't actually remember if they're canonically the same age, but they are in this)

(also Deacon is here too, he's just over in med school but him and Chase hang out on weekends)

They meet through an Intro to Literature class that Buddy takes for his major and Chase regrets choosing as an elective credit. Eventually Chase has to accept that he Sucks So Bad at literary analysis and really doesn't want to fail a course in his first semester of college, so he reluctantly asks mr writing major to help him. Buddy agrees, with the trade off being that he's writing an anthology of short stories for a future capstone project and Chase has to read them and give feedback.

(Buddy says it's because he's aiming for a younger audience with some of the stories and if an idiot like Chase can understand them so can a kid. Secretly he just....doesn't have anyone else to ask and kind of just really wants someone else to read them so he saw the opportunity and took it. But you didn't hear that from me!).

They agree to those terms and off we go! Shenanigans and angst and rivals-to-lovers nonsense (my beloved) ensues!

Aaaand because i have little self control when I'm excited about an idea but no one irl who knows what the hell a cinderella boy is to talk about it with: a much longer explanation of the exposition is below the cut!

OKAY SO BASICALLY I had this funny idea the other day of a college AU where like the Intro to Lit class is an in-person/online hybrid, i.e., all the lectures and materials are posted online so people can enrolled in it as either an online or in-person class. Chase takes it in-person while Buddy couldn't fit the timeslot into his schedule and takes it online.

And like any basic college course, it has *drumroll* Online Discussion Posts! Objectively one of the most tedious assignments in any college class, and this class does 2-3 a week. This professor decided to try a Fun New thing this year, where all the posts and replies are anonymous to the students (he can still see them so he knows who did the assignment, obvs). Something, something, he wants to promote discussions between classmates instead of people just only ever replying to their friends or something. Chase wants to keep up his Branding™ and sign off his posts with his little tagline, but after the first post his professor says that "defeats the whole purpose" and "looks unprofessional." Chase signs off with a little star instead, which the professor reluctantly lets him do. (A few other students actually start doing it to with their own little symbols or emojis.)

Two weeks into classes and Chase is being DRIVEN INSANE by these discussion posts. No, no, not by the monotony of them. No, not by his lack of skill with literary analysis. Rather, there's one student in particular who just keeps replying to his discussion posts specifically and ALWAYS seems to have something to disagree with. And they're so pretentious about it. Chase knows it's always the same person because no one else in this mostly-just-an-elective-credit class is using words like "insufferable" and "colloquialism" and "alas" in a discussion post.

Something something, Chase does some sleuthing and figures out it must be one of the online students, which is annoying because he has no way to figure out who they are so he can tell them to lay off and chill the hell out. Until! Midterms roll around and some random new guy is just in the class for the test. Oh, it's just an online student who didn't want to deal with one of those stupid virtual proctor websites, and since he lives on campus anyway he asked if he could just take it in-person. Yeah, that's fair. But then the new guy says something (idk what yet) and the phrasing of it makes it click in Chase's head that Oh my god that HAS to be Buddy holy shit

(sidenote, in this story the name "Buddy" comes from Chase ranting to Deacon about the random anon student and sarcastically calling them Buddy as a joke. But then that nickname just sticks because when you're pissed off and ranting "Buddy" is so much faster to say that "that anonymous asshole from my intro to lit class" ya know? So like, save for Chase saying it in an angry reply to the anon student once or twice, he hasn't directly called Buddy, Buddy before until like he confronts him after midterms).

I haven't quite figured out the interim of how they go from "Oh my god that's the annoying anonymous dude" and Buddy not even realizing Chase is the Star-kid (.....ha) in those discussion posts–

((sidenote 2, electric boogaloo, the reason Buddy is so snarky on the discussion posts is because, naturally, he thinks literature is Very Important and that it's annoying how obvious it is that most of this class is just taking it as an elective so they aren't putting in any real effort to learning anything. The discussion posts are all literary analysis on short passages and his classmates do, like, the bare minimum for it. He doesn't just respond to Chase's posts in a snarky tone, but most of the students fully ignore his responses and do not improve and he decides they're a lost cause. Chase is also a lost cause, but sometimes Chase argues back and okay fine Buddy has to admit that's kind of entertaining. So Buddy always makes sure to respond to the one with the stupid little star at the bottom. As a treat))

–and to them being like, civil enough that Chase finally caves and asks Buddy to tutor him, but eventually they get there. And that's how we get to the rest of that tl;dr! Chase asks for help in class, Buddy agrees as long as Chase helps him with his creative writing projects, they start meeting up to work on classwork regularly and once a week or so Buddy brings a print-out of another short story for Chase to take with him after. And Chase does his best to return it with some amount of helpful annotations.

(I totally forgot until after I came up with that idea, but I actually kind of did that once in college. Except I wasn't a creative writing major, one of my good friends was. I was entering a short story in a competition once so I gave him a printed copy of it and he gave it back a few days later covered in annotations lol)

And I DO plan to include Buddy's short stories as their own things! I have a few ideas for them already, basically I'm going to write a few original short stories that I can insert as their own little in-between chapters whenever Buddy gives Chase a new one to read. They'd probably be posted at the same time as either the chapter before or chapter after it, depending on which chapter would make more sense to pair it with narratively.

I think the first will be some parody of Cinderella, because duh. But like less of a "Cinderella, but in a new setting" thing and more like from the pov of a totally different character, where the actual Cinderella plot is lowkey almost just in the background. Idk it seems fun and like something Creative-Writing-Major-Buddy would write. Or maybe I'm projecting because I just think it sounds fun to write. Or maybe both!

One specifically that's a minorly pivotal moment for them is actually just a short-story-ified version of a poem I wrote years ago, and the moment in the story is basically just Buddy felt it was an optimistic story, whereas Chase felt like it was really sad, and both are incredibly thrown off by the dissonance that realization creates.

Which is also kind of from personal experience actually! Small tangent, but that happened with the poem back when I first wrote it too. To me, it was a melancholy but overall optimistic poem about life. I shared it with some people and seemingly all of them thought it felt sad and almost hopeless. I was SO thrown off! Because I really felt like it was hopeful, not hopeless, but it felt like I was the only person who saw it like that. As silly as it sounds, that (plus a couple other personal reasons) made me struggle with writing anything for a long time because I was a little afraid of feeling so isolated by my own work again.

(In hindsight, I can see how it came across like that to them. It still remains one of my favorites that I've written though. I actually completely rewrote it to enter in a contest just a few months ago! The newer version is much better, and I think actually gets across the intended mood a lot more)

*ahem* So, uh, anyway! I amp all that up a bit in the story for the sake of ~drama~ of course, but that's where the general idea for that scene comes from. I've already written the scene actually! I just don't know how far into the story it'll happen yet.

I'm also still on the fence about how to include the keyple we know about in canon. I can't decide if I want to just make them like other students and/or friends who appear in the story, or if I just want to like really allude to them. Leave references in the stories Buddy writes or classwork they do or stuff like that, etc.

And I'm also-also on the fence about if I should give Buddy a fake name for sake of the plot. If I do, I'm definitely going to swap it for his real name once that's properly revealed. On one hand, being in a college setting it would make a lot more sense for Chase to find out his actual name early on, even if he still calls him Buddy to be annoying. But on the other hand, Buddy totally would refuse to tell Chase his name, also to be annoying, if doing that annoys Chase more than the nickname annoys him. But on a secret, third hand, it feels so weird to give Buddy a fake name lol. Like even if I wasn't a fast-passer I think it'd still feel weird.

Then again, depending on how slow I end up writing this, the free episodes might catch up to fast pass before I even need to worry about that and I can just use his actual name from the get-go.

Phew! That sure was fun to talk about! *scrolls back through this post* oh yikes, uh, well you asked for it anon! If you actually read this far down, thank you, bless, I warned you that I yap but I appreciate your fortitude very much lol

I have no idea when I'll start posting the fic bc I worry about like getting through a couple chapters, posting them immediately, then losing steam and just....dropping it or taking forever to update after. So I want to get at least a few chapters written before I start posting any, ya know? But I've been wanting to get back into creative writing for a LONG time so I'm really going to try to stick with it! Just, bare with me if it takes a while lol

[38sr]

I know this is gonna be a strange one, but I do have an industry question;

I've been looking for a job for the last 4 years post-grad, I've tried every bit of advice I've gotten over my 6 years in school and 4 years out. Is it too late for me?? Or more so what advice would you have at this point?? I'm starting to feel really negatively about this venture, and getting a day job has been just as difficult;;

Hello Sky! Hope it's okay to call you that. Ah post-grad job hunting.....I don't miss that period of my life at all. Before I begin, just want to preface that what I say going forward is strictly from my perspective/experience. I am not the absolute of the animation industry so if what I say doesn't align with you, you do not have to follow it haha. Alright, advice for post grad job hunting.... Well, I think I want to start off giving a bit of context for the animation landscape these past 4 years that has been rough for everyone (trust me it'll come back around to your question): 1.) COVID Pandemic

This one might be a confusing for some people because when COVID hit in 2020, the only facet of entertainment that was able to keep going was animation. If you remember, during this time streaming numbers went up because people were stuck at home, every studio was launching their own streaming platform (HBO Max, Disney+, Peacock, etc.) and celebrities were given animated shows because live-action had stopped dead in its tracks. This period allowed artists outside of California state to get hired because what's the point of capping the talent to the local area when we're already working remotely? In short, it was a boom. But an exponential boom rather than a gradual boom. You never wanna grow too fast because you'll crash out quicker (and harder) which leads us to our second factor.... 2.) Netflix's first ever round of layoffs in summer 2022, streaming actually isn't profitable?????

In short, this year is when Netflix's growth finally stopped and was the beginning of The Great Animation Contraction. Other studios who were looking to Netflix as a the new model of distributing/creating entertainment had realized Netflix wasn't invincible. As well as their business model. So naturally, they got scared and and take action (aka layoffs). I was affected by these layoffs while working at Marvel Studios and many artists got laid off at studios to save face from the mistake that was streaming (though at this point studios were still double downing on it). Also, around this time live-action was slowly restarting thanks to vaccines and social distancing protocols. So those celebrity studded animated productions dwindled down (and also they caused so much havoc for us animation workers because most of those celebrities had no animation production experience). Which now leads us to...

3.) Mergers everywhere! Yeah, uh, mergers fucking suck. People kept losing their jobs because companies kept absorbing into each other and multiplying their debts to ungodly dollars amounts! Apparently no one took a math class and understood if you multiply any number by zero you will always get a zero. These merger also caused more shows to get shelved and canned, making the job market even slimmer. And by then we get to 2023 and the....

4.) WGA, SAG and TAG Contract Negotiations By now, studios have realized that streaming is losing them money because it costs a butt load of money to not only create a streaming site, but also maintain it, update it, create new media for it, acquire established franchises for it, and maintain the current library. Streaming shows aren't being advertised like they used to on cable so shows don't last beyond one or two seasons. Worker contracts are becoming shorter and shorter (I had a co-worker who had a 3 month contract! Isn't that insane?). And what happens in the midst of this streaming meltdown?

WGA, SAG and TAG are gearing up for their contract negotiations. And as we know SAG (actors) and WGA (writers) did strike which good for them! But now there are no live-action jobs and once again, animation (TAG) is the only one running because our negotiations don't officially start until 2024. At this point, so many animated productions have been cancelled left and right for the sake of "saving money and cutting costs". And the effects were very much being felt in the animation work force. Some animation workers were starting to leave the state of California to more affordable cities, some getting day jobs as baristas, hell some leaving the industry all together. It didn't help that studios were kind of withholding production greenlights 'cause 1) they're greedy corporations 2) these strikes were putting pressure on them. And when we did enter 2024 for our contract negotiations, that contraction was at the tightest. The job market for animation had become so bone dry that you have director-level talent taking entry level jobs to stay afloat. But because of that new, emerging artists are blocked out from breaking in. Anytime a job listing would go up people would go in a frenzy and try every thing they could to get the job. That's how little shows were in production this year specifically. Of course, by now it is public that TAG has ratified the contract (meaning we will not strike). But up until then, studios were quite literally waiting with baited breath for the duration of negotiations. A ton of stuff was in development but nothing was getting a greenlight in fear of a strike. So many animation workers at this point have been laid off for at least 2 years, got priced out of LA county, or got so burned by the industry that they left for a more sustainable paycheck. At this point of the post you're probably thinking, "Why is she talking about all of this and not answering my question?"

And the reason for that is because I what to highlight you didn't miss your chance. You unfortunately graduated at a time where the circumstances were not good for breaking in for the past 4 years.

I'm not saying this to deter you from animation either. I just want to be transparent and honest about the current state of animation because it really has been bleak for the past 4 years. So it's not your fault but rather the industry was just in a seriously bad drought. Both emerging and veteran artists have been struggling to find work and when they do it didn't even last for 6 months. Hopefully, with the renewed contract studios will start greenlighting productions again so everyone isn't fighting for one job opening. But I can't tell 'cause I am not Raven Baxter haha. But what advice can I give during this tough time? Start developing your own projects. Things may be pretty dry right now but now is the time when you can create and develop your own original stuff that can be used in your portfolio. Short or long form, showing progress videos, just create. Because once you start working it's gonna be hard to find that personal project time (trust me I'm going through that right now haha). Also, you'd be surprised how just doing your own thing can garner the attention of someone who does have the power to hire you. How do you think I got to work on the shows I have in the animation industry? Almost all of my jobs happened because I was just creating my own thing and it just happened to match the sensibilities of a show produced by a Hollywood studio. And if I had any additional advice... it would probably be don't think that Hollywood is the only way you can tell your stories.

This one is more of....a recent revelation I've had after going through a pretty bad work experience but Hollywood isn't the only way you can be a storyteller. Whether it's comics, games, streaming, animation, or film....the Hollywood system isn't the end all be all. And by Hollywood system I'm referring to breaking into a big studio like Disney, Nick or something and trying to get your own movie/tv show to win an award or something. That system often works for a certain group of people and fails other groups. That's why I say develop and create your own thing because you might find something that fits your creative voice more than Disney or any other Hollywood studio. Maybe that's inconsiderate of me to say as someone who's been incredibly lucky to work in the animation industry for almost 8 years now....but I still wanna be honest that there are other avenues that isn't the Hollywood way. All in all, please don't give up or beat yourself up. The current state of animation within America was out your control and resulted in many artists struggling to find a job. You aren't too late. In fact, I would say now is your time to do your thing in preparation for when that hiring boom comes again (or you can just take another route to tell your stories). I hope that answered your question!

[wilhelminyard]

compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much - except aaron - (part 3) :

ANDREW :

"I said I would keep you alive this year. you make it infinitely more difficult for me when you actively try to get yourself killed."

"the next time someone comes from you, stand down and let me deal with it. do you understand?"

"you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs" "I'm not a hallucination" "you are a pipe dream."

"what would you give me?" "don't ask questions you already know the answer to"

"this isn't yes. this is a nervous breakdown. I know the difference even if you don't. I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be."

"I've never understood why he likes knives" "he will lose his taste when he has one in his gut"

"kevin is a fool whose style is numbers and angles. formulas and statistics, trial and error, repetition and insanity. all he cares about is finding the perfect game. a junkie like you can't be that cold."

"last summer you made me a promise. I'm asking you to break it." "no." "you said you'd stick with me if I kept kevin south, but kevin doesn't need me anymore. he chose us over the ravens because as a whole we're finally worth his time. there's nothing else I can give you in exchange for your protection." "I will think of something."

"spring break's coming. we could go someplace" "where and why?" "anywhere. anywhere at least three hours from campus. there's no point in going someplace closer than that. it won't feel like a vacation. the only trick is figuring out how to pry kevin away from the court" "I have knives"

"no one's said a word to them since they said we couldn't see you"

"if you tell me to leave I'll go" "you aren't going anywhere"

"I have to go. I don't trust them to give you back."

"ready?" "waiting on you"

"can I really be neil again?" "I told neil to stay. leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father."

"andrew could break our deal and let me go or break things off with neil" "he chose neil over you?"

"your close calls are getting old. I thought you knew how to run" "I thought you told me to stop running" "survival tip: no one likes a smart mouth" "except you"

WYMACK :

"I can't believe you trusted david to patch you up" "I was careful with him"

"you're a hundred times better now than you were in may. don't sell yourself short."

"go easy for a few days, would you?"

"are you okay?"

"neil asked us to leave the authorities out of this. I respect him enough to allow that"

"didn't I tell you not to worry about it?"

"I'm making you vice-captain next year"

"didn't you notice? they're uniting around and behind you. that's something special. you're something special."

"look me in the eye and tell me if you think I care who you used to be. hm? I care about who you are right now and who you can be going forward. I'm not asking you to forget your past, but I am telling you to overcome it."

"neil. talk to me. what do you want?"

"giving up on neil now goes against everything we are."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you but I couldn't" "don't worry about that right now."

"we'll wait for you, all right? as long as it takes, neil"

"I should be thanking you. you told us last night you intended to end the year dead or in federal custody. you could have shut everyone and everything out and worried about yourself this year. instead you agreed to help dan fix this team. you're saving the two I thought we couldn't reach, and you're a living example for kevin to follow. he never used to watch you but he's had eyes on you since december trying to figure out how you stand your ground."

"they told me to call them as soon as you returned. have you returned?"

"neil is a critical member of my team. you can ask any person on my line-up and they will all agree : we would not be where we are today if he wasn't here with us."

MATT :

"I want to break his face in six places. if he ever comes within a thousand yards of you again-"

"you okay?" "I'm fine" "for the record, I don't believe you"

"neil? we're here when you want to talk about it"

"neil? you good?"

"we're all legal adults here. we've made our decision. unless he wants to stay with you, you'd better bring neil back to us when you're done with all your questions

"hey, coach made us promise to leave you alone but are you okay?"

"they will get rid of me" "you're not serious"

"things could have gone much worse. I'm glad they didn't. you want anything, you need anything, you let us know. okay?" "okay" "I mean it" "I know. I'm done lying to you, matt. I promise."

"did andrew really choke kevin?" "took three of us to pull him off"

"we can't replace you"

DAN :

"neil? if you want to talk about any of it, or anything, or... you know we're here for you, right? whatever you need."

"kevin knew about this didn't he? he knew what riko was going to do to you and he let you go anyway. the next time I see him-"

"don't do this to us. don't sit here and lie to our faces. we're your friends. we deserve better than that."

"you told the truth. it's not your fault they don't like it."

"are you sure you're okay, neil?"

"go. but come back to us as soon as they're done with you, okay? we'll figure this out as a team."

"you're not playing. you think coach will let you on the court when you look like that? I'll sub in for you, neil. renee can help allison out one more time, right? trust us to hold the line. you focus on healing so we can use you in semifinals."

KEVIN :

"kevin called me yesterday morning when he couldn't get a hold of you. he wanted to make sure you were okay."

NICKY :

"don't you dare tell me you're fine. I can't hear that from you today, okay?"

"you can't have neil. he belongs with us"

"neil isn't a real person. it's just a cover that let nathaniel evade authorities. it's past time to let him go." "neil or nathaniel or whoever. he's ours, and we're not letting him go. you want us to vote on it or something? bet you it'll be unanimous."

"don't worry. andrew will protect you."

"hey, you good?"

ALLISON :

"it would have neen better if you'd come to the store with us. it doesn't matter. I bought out the entire row."

"I'm sorry" "shut up. no you're not. you're not. have you forgotten who has to paint you back together every morning? if you'd let them steamroll you yesterday after all this I would hate you"

"it is not safe for [neil] here anymore and it sure as hell isn't safe for you. it is better for everyone if he disappears." "what part of 'go to hell' do you need us to explain to you?"

RENEE :

"so those knives he brings everywhere are yours?" "were mine. he was right; I don't need them anymore. if you need them, he will give them to you, and I will teach you how to use them"

"if you want to talk more later, you know where to find me"

"will you be all right here?"

"kevin is very analytical whereas you're passionate."

"what do you need from us, neil?"

"I can do it." "I know you can. but perhaps it's easier if someone helps you."

ABBY :

"sometimes I think this job is going to kill me. seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my foxes. I wish I could protect you but I'm always too late. all I can do is patch you up afterward and hope for the best. I'm sorry, neil. we should have been there for you"

"let me take a look at you"

"it's over. it's over. you're going to be okay. we've got you."

"I dropped my gear in new york" "andrew found it while he was looking for you"

[lumilasi]

Illustration for The Void's Echo fic, bc I honestly miss doing art for my writing (or other people's writing I like for that matter tbh, I just haven't really had that much time to read myself lately)

I was wondering if I should do all the art for this story in the digital painting style, or use my more usual lineart-including one sometimes. I think I'll do both, the painting style takes longer after all.

Anyway, I THINK this is based on this scene on chapter 1, (Jayce's part anyway, I'm not gonna go into a full explanation as to what is going on here rn) but there might've been another, similar one later:

Because he felt very tired still, his body and mind drained with the kind of exhaustion you felt in your very bones, your core, he spent most of the day just resting, or watching Viktor sleep, unable to look away everytime he was awake. Viktor wouldn’t move, wouldn’t react to anything, not his voice, his fingers brushing his hair or cheek, nothing. He was there, but Jayce also felt, horribly, like he wasn’t. Like he was just looking at an empty shell. The body was there, but the mind, the consciousness was gone. His hostess spent most of the day outside, she was apparently genuinely a healer, and not just somebody who could help his specific case. Jayce was thankful for that, honestly, not wanting her to bore witness to the pathetic sight of him hanging around Viktor’s bedside, sitting on the floor beside him like a sad little puppy. He just….he felt physically sick, going too far from Viktor right now, and Jayce wasn’t certain if he was just that pitiful, or if something more was at play.

Either way, once night settled over the strange town with the colorful skies changing from their pastel pinks and teals to deep blues and purples, Jayce finds himself laying on his bed again, unable to sleep. He stares at Viktor across from him, desperately hoping he’d do something, anything. Just move his head, flutter his eyes, some sort of sign he was still there.

Nothing.

No matter how much he waited, how much he wished so, Viktor’s visage didn’t change, he just laid there silent, his glowing hair somewhat reflecting the colored lights outside. Jayce sits up slowly, watching his sleeping partner in the silence of the night, before slipping out of bed as quietly as he could. Granted his hostess was sleeping on the second floor, but he still didn’t want to disturb her: Mariella was a busy woman, her profession highly important, and he already felt like she was worried enough about her patients, and her away family. Jayce hadn’t dared to ask what they were up to, and it was none of his business anyway. He makes his way across the short distance, feeling the painful ache in his chest ease the closer he got. For a moment, Jayce just stands there, hesitant, not knowing what to do. He needed to be closer, he couldn’t sleep with that hollow feeling on his chest, but part of him felt…uneasy, uncomfortable. Viktor was unaware or everything around him, would he even want Jayce this close after everything that transpired? He’d managed to convince him in the end, but…

Jayce feels a sudden sting of pain in his chest, strong enough to collapse to the floor, curling to himself as he sat there back against the side of the bed, just panting and trying to weather it. He was starting to suspect this was indeed something more. This pain wasn’t coming from his body, but his soul. It sounded insane, but he had a strong feeling it was true.

Once his breathing eases, Jayce turns his head, able to study Viktor’s features from his spot, the faintly glowing hair framing his pale face so beautifully. He looked almost angelic right now, because of the strange effect his hair was having, making Jayce wonder why that was. Why his hair had turned normal, but Viktor was still glowing. Turning to face him properly, Jayce reaches for the pale hand resting next to him, pulling it off the bed and bringing it to his lips. He could feel Viktor’s heartbeat through his wrist, a sensation that seemed to ease the aching he felt. He turns the hand around to kiss his palm as well, holding onto it with both hands. Jayce felt like a coward, wishing he’d done this ages ago, shown Viktor how he felt before it was too late. Maybe all of this could’ve been prevented, if only he could’ve made him see how valuable he was, how much he—he—

Jayce let’s out a shaky gasp, clutching the limp arm in his grasp as the pain within him worsens. It gets so bad for a moment he fears he was going to pass out from it. He scrambles off the floor after a moment in what he could only describe as instinct of some sort, climbing next to Viktor on the bed to pull him tight against his chest, burying his face against those glowing locks. It was so pitiful, so pathetic, he felt like an addict unable to cope with any distance between them right now. Even the fairly thin bedsheet still between them felt like too much, and Jayce wanted nothing more but to slip under it as well, so he could mend himself against the pale skin beneath, hold him as close as he physically could.

He doesn’t.

[curioscurio]

Genuinely not trying to pick a fight here, I'm atheist and grown up in a European diaspora Catholic area, and when I was there at least (a good while ago) they really did not ever mention or anticipate the rapture, it was all about community, what the community can give back to everyone (non Christians mainly) and how to make like earth the best place it can be for everyone (I know that's a deliberately like Christianity inspired mindset too and this kind of Christianity is far from flawless either im not deluding myself , gods task and all) but that southern Baptist obsession with the next life is so far removed from what I grew up with im always astounded

No worries, I absolutely understand that Southern Baptism is a special kind of batshit insane Christianity. But yeah when I was growing up, we were taught that the rapture was basically here and that one day in our lifetime everyone in the world would either disappear and go to heaven if they accepted Jesus as the true son of God or else stay on earth and die a horrible and painful death. Big emphasis on the idea that if you didn't convert your friends then they were going to get left behind and go to hell. Lots of talk about how horrible you are and how no matter what you're sinning and disgusting in God's eyes EXCEPT that Jesus died for you so now you have to spend your whole life making up for your sinful existence and be thankful that God is letting you into heaven anyways. Which seems insane when you look at it from literally any other perspective but I guess that's just southern baptism for ya

Didn't mean to generalize because there really are some wonderful Christians that actually pass on the love that Jesus gave out there! Keep helping out the community because that's the kind of thing that actually does make the world a better place to live in for everyone.

[porcelainmortal]

2024 Fic Writing Roundup

This is so fun!! Thanks for the tags, @cha-melodius @firenati0n, @onthewaytosomewhere, and the open tag @caterpills.

Getting to this late because I wanted to wait until my final fic of the year went live. I posted fics every month except January, which I'm super proud of. I've posted 27 fics (86 if you count ficlets and drabbles separately) with a total word count of 218,348, which is INSANE to me!! Especially knowing how many unfinished WIPs curently live on my Drive (around 80k worth) 🫣 AND the fact that before joining this fandom, I hadn't written much in many, many years.

So let's dive in!

JANUARY

busy writing but no posting!

FEBRUARY

a valentine for Alex (rated E | 1,968 words) post-canon Valentine's Day smut with lots of feelings when the curtains call the time (rated E | 27,916 words) angsty college au exes-to-lovers (no, not that one) with a bit of a love triangle being enough (rated T | 551 words) post-canon conversation re: Alex's bisexuality and Henry's insecurity handy for a handyman (rated E | 6,329 words) handyman!Alex part 1 - Alex is working construction at Henry's brownstone; Henry panics when he sees Alex shirtless and wishes he would pound something aside from the carpet

MARCH

a brit in Brooklyn (rated E | 6,689 words) handyman!Alex part 2 - Alex and Henry go on their first real date, feelings move in it happened on a lake (rated E | 18,967 words) Alex is at the family lake house, Henry is renting the house across the cove; when David assists in a meet cute, sparks fly - but how can a vacation fling possibly last??

APRIL

falling in a 5+1 (rated E | 10,600 words) handyman!Alex part 3 - five times Alex is unsure how Henry feels about him, and one time he knows the song of alex & henry (rated T | 1,062 words) firstprince reads TSOA; lots of feelings ensue

MAY

why do you call me baby? (rated M | 3,625 words) Alex figures out he's bi, decides to sow his wild oats, and meets Henry, who swiftly ruins all his plans Vegas, Baby (rated M | 12,735 words) Alex and Henry meet in Vegas, get drunk, and get married! Small complication: Henry lives in London and doesn't even know Alex.

JUNE

move your body (rated E | 2,500 words) post-canon dancing and smut inspired by the song "Lube" by Adam Lambert (I blame the Discord server) Saturdays are for the boys (rated E | 1,813 words) more post-canon smut, posted as the fandom's 10,000th fic! find me here and speak to me (rated E | 13,131 words) Alex is happily married when he meets his soulmate Henry Friday, i'm in love (rated E | ficlets) a collection of ficlets from Ficlet Fridays - 23 in total posted between June and September.

JULY

perineyum (rated E | 2,500 words) Alex tricks Henry into trying a stupid wellness trend; the result is introspective rimming, outdoors edition

AUGUST

take my hand and let it spin (rated T | 1,000 words) a collection of drabbles - 10 in total - written for Tumblr prompts! right here, right now (rated E | 3,333 words) a night out dancing with a coworker/friend turns into a bisexual speed run and fun, playful smut the bartender and the blond (rated M | 9,999 words) slow burn romance

SEPTEMBER

i'm known for giving love away (rated E | 16,866 words) shy, sheltered Henry celebrates his 25th birthday with a visit to the strip club and best friend/wingman ever Pez buys him a lap dance with Alex Claremont-Diaz, part-time stripper and full-time law student cool for the summer (rated M | 1,500 words) drinking + teasing = relationship

OCTOBER

Freaktober (rated E | 14,475 words) my version of Kinktober with a Halloween twist! 20 smutty fics over 25 days. WHEW!! faith, trust, and pixie dust (rated M | 5,810 words) when Alex convinces his roommate Henry to dress in a couples' costume for the annual Okonjo Foundation Fundraising Gala, love confessions are inevitable

NOVEMBER

mad love. (rated E | 31,313) college au, exes-to-lovers angstfest with a happily ever after and a yummy topping of smut (including bottom Alex!) smutsgiving 2024 (rated E | 100 word drabble) a smutty drabble that's mostly feelings

DECEMBER

wrapped up in music & lyrics (rated M | 1,000 words) Spotify Wrapped drabbles, lots of angst and sadness, all canon-compliant, 10 in total what if we just fall? (rated E | 4,565 words) Alex and Henry are roommates who occasionally share a bed and apparently, feelings for each other... it's a smutfest, folks wrapped in red (rated M | 4,029 words) post-canon Christmas vignettes through the boys' first ten years together

A MASSIVE thank you to everyone who read, kudos'd commented, reblogged, etc. - all of that interaction kept me going. This year was hard and I only made it through bc of this fandom and all my new friends. ILY all. 💕

An open tag as always, but also tagging below the cut!!

@anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise @faketrex

@freyjaexplores @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine

@kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @myheartalivewrites @nocoastposts @priincebutt

@rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@theprinceandagcd @thighzp @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL OF YOU!! ✨