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curiositydooropened · 6 months ago

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Hell Hound • Part One

Being FWBs with metal rockstar, Eddie Munson, is all fun and games until a dozen red roses show up at your door with a warning: Stay Away from The Devil or you will die. Despite your protests, Eddie appoints his personal bodyguard to keep an eye out for you.

Pairing: bodyguard!Steve Harrington x photographer!Reader, rockstar!Eddie x Reader

Wordcount: 10, 712

Warnings: unrequited love, slowburn, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort, violence, gore, weapons, fighting, death threats, stalker *This chapter also contains allusions of voyeurism, sex, drinking, recreational drug use, religious elements

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

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Moodboard • Fic Masterlist • Part Two

The interior of the L never looked that beautiful, at least not through Steve’s eyes. Every experience he’d had was tainted by Bears fans or teenagers filming videos on their phone, or God, don’t remind him about St. Patty’s Day. No, the seats were too small for his shoulders, the windows too short, and the whole thing smelled like plastic bags.

Your perspective was vastly different. You were just the right height to catch the sunlight as it filled the train car with that golden glow. The city whirred by, a kaleidoscope of bright lights and reflections off the glass. You positioned poles and handholds just so with satisfying symmetry.

No, the city had never looked as beautiful to him as it had through your lens.

Steve said that to Robin once, and she wretched over the line and made him promise he’d never repeat it to you. He hadn’t, but he’d also never let one of your photos go un-complimented.

He enjoyed the roll of your eyes, the sink of your teeth into your bottom lip as you soaked in the praise and pretended to be shy, to be embarrassed, that you hated your craft.

He’d seen that look dozens of times tonight, timid gratitude that poured out of you and onto every surface in this little gallery space. You’d caught his gaze a handful of times, reassured him with a smile that you were okay, great even, oozing with sheepish pride. He’d just nod and go back to admiring another of your photos.

“You know, we used to live in that apartment…” An elderly woman told you, bony hand clung to your forearm.

“Really? Which one?” You humored her.

“That one, just there, our first year of marriage,” the woman nodded. “Fifth floor.”

“Fourth floor!” Her husband corrected from your other side.

“It was the fifth floor, now don’t argue with me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man winked at you, and your eyes lit with mischievous delight. You nodded along, conspiratorially while the woman rambled on about the neighbors’ cat meowing and another neighbor practicing saxophone into the wee hours.

“It was so romantic,” she clutched your hand to her chest.

“It was so annoying,” the husband grinned back at you.

Fed up with her husband’s antics, the woman shot him a rueful look. Then, she patted your hand and told you how lovely your work was before asking for the powder room.

When she’d been properly directed, her husband leaned to your ear and asked how much for the photo.

Steve lingered nearby, waiting for the transactional handshake before he stepped in. “Mind if I inquire about this piece?”

You sucked your cheeks between your teeth and sidled up beside him. His bicep tingled where your skin brushed. “What questions do you have about this one?”

“Where was it taken?”

You shot him a look, and he tried not to let the smile split his face. The photo you were currently staring at was a portrait of a mom and daughter looking at their reflection in The Bean.

“How’s it going?” He elbowed you, glancing once more around the room at the patrons to your first gallery showing. He’d agreed to come run point for your opening, soft-pitching the idea for Munson to hit out of the park.

“Amazing,” you sighed, the delight on your face swooping at his stomach.

“Told you.” He grinned, and you swatted his arm and told him to shut up. He really could watch you for hours, the micro-expressions on your face prettier than any photo you could take, though your talent came up a close second.

“I thought he couldn’t make it,” you gasped, staring just past Steve’s shoulder and out the gallery’s front window.

Steve blinked once, twice. The rapid flash of headlights cast your cheekbones in shadow. He spun on his heel to find his employer and friend, Eddie Munson, slipping out of the backseat of a tinted-windowed SUV. He cursed under his breath and excused himself, shouldering through a confused crowd to meet the rockstar at the door.

“Harrington,” Eddie pushed his sunglasses through his curls, pupils blown, and flashed a wolfish grin.

“Thought you couldn’t make it.” Steve responded, glancing down alleyways for any paparazzi. He knew once Eddie was spotted in public, they’d come in droves.

“And miss this? Nah, wouldn’t dream of it, Sugar.”

You’d followed Steve out into the rain, slipping through party guests to greet Eddie. The rockstar wrapped studded-leather arms around your slender waist and greeted you with something salacious whispered into your ear. Steve knew because of the shocked look stretched over beautiful features, and the way you’d swatted at Eddie’s shoulder as if he’d said something bad enough to curl your toes.

“We should get inside,” Steve grit his teeth. “Don’t want to alert the paps.”

“Come on, Sugar,” Eddie dipped into a low bow to let you enter first. “Give me the grand tour.”

—

“I think I’ll buy all the ones left,” Munson quipped with a lazy arm tugging you back into his chest.

You snorted, and shook your head. “Then no one else will be able to buy them, which is kind of the point of a gallery.” You gestured around at the carefully placed frames on carefully designed walls.

“Well, good. Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Steve’s eyes ached to roll. He collected plastic flutes and discarded trays of half-eaten vegetables and tossed them into large, black garbage sacks.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

“I just had my gallery opening,” you barked a laugh, pulling away to help Steve with the table you were leaning on. “I need to sleep.”

“You need to celebrate,” Eddie rationed, tugging you back into him. You yelped, your thumb going into a rogue slice of cake. With waggled brows, Eddie pulled your thumb into his mouth, licking it clean.

Steve thought he might be sick. He turned his back and held open the bag in front of him, just in case. Unfortunately, he could still make out your reflection in the windows out front. Your meticulously picked-out slacks hugged your curves, and Munson’s ringed fingers slipped over the breadth of your backside to squeeze you closer to him.

“Anything else you need help with?” Steve’s voice tasted awkward, a little too loud, too scratchy.

You separated from Eddie and dumped your haul into Steve’s bag. “I think that’s it. Thank you for everything, Steve. Really. And I’m serious about paying you.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” He said, twisting the bag closed with a knot.

You shot him another look and said, “Eddie, tell Steve to let me pay him.”

“You don’t take money from her, you don’t take money from me, pal.”

Steve did roll his eyes this time, and glared over your shoulder at the rockstar zipping and unzipping his leather jacket. “Yeah, we have a contract, dumb ass.”

“I’ll have my lawyer sue your lawyer.”

“Your lawyer is my lawyer.”

Eddie grinned. “He’s got me there, Sug.”

You scoffed and snatched the bag from Steve’s hand. “Fine, I’ll have to come up with some other way to repay you.”

Steve was thankful for mood lighting and the late hour. His face heated another twenty or so degrees, and he scratched at the hairs prickling on the back of his neck. “Eds, you need me to call you a car?”

“Would you mind, Stevie-dearest? Sugar, I gotta take a piss. Care to show me the can in this place?” Eddie stood up and adjusted the crotch of his tight jeans for show.

“You’re a class act, Eddie Munson. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” You gripped the hefty garbage bag in one hand and took Eddie’s hand in your other as you led him back into the office space of the warehouse. Before the heavy door closed, both of you made eyes at Steve, one friendly, the other randy.

Steve’s stomach churned, and he pulled out his phone to call a car.

Working with Eddie had been tedious, but simple. Call him a car, shield him from paparazzi and groping fans alike, bring him his hangover cure breakfast, ask beautiful women to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement before his plethora of one-night stands.

You were the toughest pill to swallow, a beautiful girl at a hometown gig.

Hometown gigs meant rowdy afterparties, venue-catered alcohol and executive-catered drugs. It meant too-lax security checkpoints and easily-bribed security detail, and after months on the road, Steve wasn’t in the mood for anyone’s bullshit. So he posted himself at the Green Room door, one eye on the metal detector, one eye on the front man who’d hired him, and prayed the ache between his shoulders would go away soon. Eight more hours and he’d be at home in bed for a long awaited and much needed vacation.

Eddie was two water bottles in, and his hand still trembled when he introduced himself to some recording mogul.

Steve snapped his fingers at some kid and told him quickly to hand Munson another bottle of water and get him a towel.

When the items had been delivered to a thankful rockstar, Steve turned back to the collection of items being tossed into plastic trays on the outside of the metal detector: a cell phone, keys with a neon carabiner, a leather wallet, a DSLR.

“Whoa, whoa,” he stopped the attendant from picking up the camera. “There’s no press on the guest list.”

“No press, just freelance,” you said from across the metal threshold. You wore a well-loved leather jacket, softened and faded with time and an expression that toed the line between compliance and try me.

Steve swallowed, shook the stars from his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry, this is a camera-free zone.”

You narrowed your eyes for a moment before stepping back over the threshold and against the current of waiting party-goers to fiddle with the camera.

“Here,” you cupped something in an outstretched hand, waiting patiently for Steve to accept whatever gift you had to offer.

With caution, he accepted the tiniest of SD cards, bright blue.

“Call it insurance?” You smiled, tongue behind your canine in a way that made him itch under the collar. “Find me before I leave and give it back?”

Munson had found you first, dragging Steve with clammy hands to meet his “dream girl”. He gave the signal for Steve to start pulling up the contract on his phone as he made his way down a long, concrete hallway.

You hadn’t flinched, just cocked a brow and signed your name on the dotted line with a, “Thanks, Steve. Have a great night.”

He kept your SD card. He didn’t even tell Robin that it rested on the corner of his dresser next to a picture of Dustin on his graduation day.

He assumed he’d never see you again, but Munson had grown a fondness for you, and soon you were a regular part of Chicago meet-ups. Every hometown gig became a room full of you.

Steve heard giggling from the office, that soft melodic bounce of your laugh against the bass of Eddie’s voice. This was the worst of it, catching you two in compromising positions around parties or Eddie’s ornate penthouse, and pretending like it didn’t kill him inside that it wasn’t him with his hands on you, making you laugh, smelling the warmth of your throat.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

Robin: How was the gallery opening? Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet? We on for our FaceTime date tonight?

Steve: Eddie showed up. Yup. See you in 10 hours.

Robin: Shit. I just sent you money. Buy yourself a fifth and we’ll drink it together.

A car rolled up outside, blinding him with strong headlights.

“Munson, car’s here!” He called, praying you could both hear him.

There was the shuffle of a few things in the back, and with the clack of Eddie’s boots, you both returned. You looked a little more windswept than before, and Eddie’s sunglasses has been pulled back over his eyes, despite it being nearly midnight.

“Steve,” you breathed, approaching him with arms outstretched for a friendly embrace. “Thanks again for all of your help tonight. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

He gave the tightest squeeze he could under supervision and let your hand fall into his to give you one more gentle squeeze. “Anytime. It was really no problem. Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head, smile wedged between your teeth. “I guess Eddie wore me down.”

“Yeah I will.” He snorted, and you shushed him.

Steve nodded and started for the door. “Cool. Well, have fun, you two. Be safe.”

“Thanks, man,” Eddie knocked knuckles with his friend, rings sharp against Steve’s scarred fists. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

Steve swallowed and glanced over his shoulder to bid you one last, weak smile.

You waggled you fingers, and he stepped out into the cool night air.

—

“You are the most embarrassing person I know in real life.” Even Robin in lag was brutal.

Steve sipped his coffee and rubbed at tired eyes. He hadn’t slept much. Mostly, he scrolled and wondered exactly what you and Eddie were getting up to, wondered why it wasn’t him.

“You asked if she needed a ride home?”

“I was being polite,” he grumbled. He took a banana off its tree and began to peel. They had all begun to brown.

“You’re so sweet, Stevie. Like a little lost puppy dog.”

“Oh fuck off, Robin. Remember you and that girl in Buchapest?”

“Bucharest,” she corrected his pronunciation. “And she was merely a fleeting crush.”

“You cried over her for like three weeks.” He shot his best friend a look over the screen.

The lighting was horrible in her Istanbul flat, internet connection worse. Steve told her he’d pay for anything better, but she argued that he needed to quit babying her and let her live the nomadic experienced she’d always dreamed of.

“Okay, okay,” her connection stuttered in and out, face pixelated as she ducked out of frame and back. “So you’re going to be alone forever. That’s not so bad.”

“At least I have you.” Steve nodded, mouth full of squishy sweet banana.

He nearly choked when his phone began to ring in his hand, your name and photo popping up on the display screen. “Robin, it’s her.”

“What?”

“She’s calling me.” He held his phone to the camera on his laptop to prove a point.

“Speaker phone!” Robin squeaked.

With a sigh, he answered, phone pressed to his ear to respect your privacy. Robin glared.

“Hello?”

“Steve?” The worry in your voice had his heart kicking up in his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

Robin echoed his sentiments until he snapped his fingers and put his finger to his lips to quiet her.

“Nothing, it’s um… could you… are you busy?”

“Nope. Not busy at all,” he said. Robin threw a silent fit on her end. “What’s going on?”

“Could you just… come down to the gallery? I need your help with something.”

“Yeah,” he frowned, walked the rest of his banana to the garbage can. “Like, later today?”

“Or right now. Could you come right now? As soon as possible?”

His stomach dropped to his feet. “Yes. Yes, I will be right there. Keep the door locked until I get there.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He hung up and rushed to the door to get his shoes on. His keys and wallet were in his pocket before he heard another voice echo throughout his kitchen.

“Harrington!? Hello!? Earth to Dingus!”

“Shit,” he sidled up to his laptop. “Robin, I am so sorry.”

She managed a knowing smirk and a laggy nod. “Yeah, you owe me, big time Harrington. Text me everything that happens.”

“I love you,” he agreed.

“See you next week!”

“In real life!” He hung up before she had a chance to blabber on, and he was out the door.

—

The worry etched across your beautiful features was devastating.

Steve yearned to wrap you into his arms and promise he’d protect you, to kiss the frown lines from between your brows, to tickle at your ribs until you smiled again.

Instead, he stood three feet away, inspecting a bouquet of three dozen red roses that had been delivered to the gallery that morning with a note attached.

Roses are Red

Beauty is You

Stay away from the Devil

Before he kills you

A printed photograph was pinned to the card, a pap photo from a gala you and Eddie had attended together a few weeks ago. Eddie’s shoulders were squeezed into a rhinestoned blazer, flash reflecting off his sunglasses. Devil horns and a tale had been crudely drawn over his features in red ball point pen. You stood beside him, hand-in-hand, curves standing out in a black silk dress. One small strap was dangling off your shoulder. The same pen was used to etch slash marks through your exposed throat, so hard it had ripped through the page.

“Is this… like Eddie wouldn’t do this, right?” Your voice shook, hand trembling against your cheekbone. You balled a tissue into your fist.

“No! God no,” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, Jesus, I hope not.” He muttered under his breath. “Have you called him?”

You shrugged, nodded. “I tried, and texted. He was still asleep when I left.”

Steve cleared his throat with a nod, remembering you’d gone home with the rockstar. You probably slipped out of black silk sheets and into the black and grey marbled shower. You probably toed around in front of the massive high-rise window, searching for various garments that had been removed on every inch of the house. Maybe you’d made yourself a latte, with a splash of lavender like you like it, wearing an oversized black hoodie that smelled of weed and cigarettes and some cologne Steve couldn’t afford.

“I can try again,” you fished your phone from your back pocket and dialed.

Steve plucked the card from the roses for any indication of a delivery service or floral company, but the card was blank, ivory, high-quality. “Who delivered these?”

“Old guy, balding, green vest,” you shrugged.

Steve nodded.

“Hey, Sugar,” Eddie’s voice rasped over speaker. “S’matter. Did you leave something here, or d’you just miss me?”

“No, um…” You changed your balance from one foot to the other. “Eds, did you send me roses?”

“Fuck, you want me to eat you out and send you roses?” The rockstar chuckled.

Steve swallowed and didn’t dare look at you directly. He felt the heat radiating off of you as you frantically turned off speaker-phone and held the device to your ear, covering your face with a hand.

“No, babe, Jesus. I got a delivery of roses today with a um…” Your voice trembled again.

Steve brushed delicate fingers to your arm and held out his hand to take the phone.

You gave it willingly.

“Eddie, hey,” Steve sighed.

“Harrington? What is going on? Am I still asleep?”

“No, dude, she called me when she couldn’t get ahold of you. Listen, there’s this big bouquet of roses here with a death threat attached. You didn’t have anything to do with this, right? It’s not some kind of prank?”

“A death threat? What do you mean? A prank? Jesus, how shitty of a person do you think I am? Is she okay? I’m coming down there.”

Steve winced around the shuffle of bedsheets and the sound of Eddie clomping around his bedroom.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, dude. Here, let me send you a picture.”

Steve took his own phone out to take and send a photo, rifling past a barrage of text messages from Robin.

You’d propped yourself on the reception desk, eyes darting between the flowers and outside. The morning light poured in, hollowing your cheekbones and painting your walls pink.

Steve reached for your elbow, running his thumb over the bit of skin there to pull your focus back.

You offered a sheepish smile and squeezed his wrist.

“Oh what the fuck?” Eddie yelled through the phone, startling you both.

“Yeah, it’s bad,” Steve agreed, rubbing at tired eyes.

“Is she okay? Let me talk to her. Wait, Harrington, do you think it’s Carver?”

Steve’s blood ran cold.

Jason Carver was a religious zealot from a small town with a vendetta for Eddie Munson and “demons like him”. Two years ago, his army of his cronies marched to a Corroded Coffin show in Milwaukee and set the place on fire. They managed to get everyone out of the bar before the roof collapsed. More Molotovs were thrown before the cops arrived.

Since Carver wasn’t in attendance and denied any involvement in inciting the riot, he received a slap on the wrist and no jail time. The band did manage an airtight restraining order, but Steve doubted that looped in contact with Munson’s hook-ups.

He cursed under his breath.

“Yeah, fuck is right. Let me talk to her. Don’t let her leave your sight. I’ll pay you triple if I have to. Twenty-four hour surveillance. You hear me?”

“Don’t worry about the cash, man,” Steve shook his head. “I won’t leave her. I’m going to call the delivery company and see if they can give me any more information on the purchase, and then I’ll call Joyce and see if she can’t get her written into the restraining order.”

“Thank you, man. I want you to take her home to get her stuff and then bring her over here. If it is him, he can’t get to her here.”

Steve hated that he was right.

“Put her on for me. Thanks again, bro.”

With a resigned sigh, Steve slipped the phone back into your trembling hands.

He overheard Eddie’s tone slip into something softer, “Sugar, how’re you doing? Are you alright? I’m so so sorry this happened to you, my sweet girl.”

You gave Steve’s hand one more squeeze before you wandered off across the gallery for some privacy in your phone call.

Steve opened his browser to began searching for the delivery company’s number with a pit in his stomach and an unfillable ache in his chest.

—

Robin: OMFG that’s so scary. Is she ok? Are you ok? Is Eddie ok? I’m going to be there in a week, plz don’t get murdered.

—

Your keys clicked in the lock, and you toed open the door to your little apartment. Light poured in through large windows, casting warmth on the small space that the dark hallway hid. You stepped in first, and Steve followed with trepidation.

He’d never been to your house, and when he walked over the threshold, he was overpowered by how you it felt. The whole place smelled of you, of your shampoo and the perfume you spritz on special nights. Your little kitchen table was scattered with stacks of old mail and rolls of film. A laptop sat open on a squishy futon sofa. Beneath your television were a handful of films he knew you loved.

“How long um… how much should I pack?” You squinted, pinching at the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “This is a lot, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

Once again, he felt the ache to pull you into him, to whisper sweet words into your hair. Instead he gestured to a bar stool. “Take a seat. Take a breath. I’m going to check the house, if that’s alright.”

He winced as your face flooded with realization, and fear.

“It’s probably fine. I just want to be safe.” He tried to sound nonchalant, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You swallowed, nodded, gestured for him to go ahead. “Sorry it’s a mess.”

He waved you off with a knowing smile and started down the hallway, relieved when he turned to see you sitting as instructed. You’d been on your feet all day, making arrangements with the gallery owners to have someone take your shift for the evening and tomorrow. When you weren’t on the phone or emailing buyers, you were staring out the windows, a far-off gaze in your eye. You held that now, looking down your living room windows at the busy downtown street below.

Steve took the first door to the left and found a small bathroom. Some tiles in the corner were cracked, and the sink was scattered with the remnants of a makeup bag, a toothbrush. The bathtub’s curtain was pulled back to reveal a loofah dangling from the faucet.

Your bedroom waited at the end of the hall. His fingertips pushed the door open, breath shallow, face warm.

Sage green linens were crumpled on your bed with three overstuffed pillows. Dirty clothes littered your floor in piles leading to and from the closet. That black satin dress topped an armchair, the strap snapped.

Steve swallowed.

A hefty dresser sat to the right of the door, the top scattered with trinkets and photographs. He was surprised to find his own image scowling back at him, arms crossed, black t-shirt on, leaning against a concrete wall. The sun hit him just so, framing his eyes like a superhero mask, the rest of him cast in shadow. God, all of the world really was better through your lens.

“All clear?” Your soft voice startled him.

He cleared his throat, cheeks warm, to find you at the doorway, hugging your arms to yourself. He smiled. “Clear. I’ll just wait in the front room.” He gestured to slip past you.

“Actually, do you mind hanging out? It’ll only take a second.” You gestured for him to sit on the bed before you scampered about your room, picking up the dirty clothes and depositing them into the hamper.

He remained standing in the doorway, arms crossed like they were in the photo. “Get enough for a couple of days if you want, but we’re going to get this figured out.”

You wore your anxiety like a jacket, hunched shoulders and furrowed brow, a shell of the vibrant woman he knew.

He took a few steps forward, halting your frantic shoving of clothes in a backpack.

You blinked back up at him, eyes wide, hands trembling.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You laughed then, a manically sound that didn’t meet your eyes. “Steve, am I just insane? Or stupid? Am I the dumbest person in the entire world?”

“What?” He tried not to focus on the way your hair haloed around your face, light pouring in through gossamer curtains.

“I knew the novelty of sleeping with a rockstar would wear off eventually, but I was thinking like he’d cheat on me with a super model or maybe I’d get a curable STD, but not this.” It was the most you’d spoken all day, your old self sinking back into your voice.

Steve smiled, itched at the back of his neck, shrugged. “Eddie’s a very charming man.”

You rolled your eyes. “I mean, okay, Eddie’s good, but he’s not death-threats good.”

Steve felt a little surge of excitement at this knowledge, maybe a bit of competition sparking in him again. “Sure, but he’s a good guy. He really likes you.”

“I think he calls me ‘Sugar’ because he forgot my real name and got too embarrassed to ask.”

Your confession had Steve’s jaw on the floor, and when you laughed, he felt light as air. This time your laugh met your eyes, met your mouth, your cheeks. You swatted at his chest.

“Steve, you were supposed to tell me that��s not true.”

Steve snickered and merely shrugged.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You pushed past him and to the bathroom to start collecting your toiletries. The anxiety was temporarily snuffed and replaced with the ease of routine, of being in your space surrounded by your things, and Steve felt himself relax a bit knowing you were comfortable.

—

Joyce: Got it taken care of, sweetheart. Hop says he’ll file a report and to let him know if you need an extra hand. Dinner next weekend? Steak and potatoes? Take care of yourself.

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—

Munson pulled his ragged hair up into a bun with a hair tie he kept around his wrist. Steve often wondered if it was yours, or if the rockstar pulled it from the locks of some groupie on the road, long nights spent in truck stops and blues houses. The tie had lost some elasticity over the years, and tendrils managed to fall into the man’s eyes, and even still, he looked cool, casual, calm.

He was anything but calm. His knee bounced as he took a glass of water from Steve filled for him. “What did I do wrong, man?”

Steve sighed and sat across from him, back to massive windows overlooking the city lights. He kept his mouth shut, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this tiff you were having.

“I mean, I just want to keep her safe. I’m the one that got her in this mess in the first place.” Eddie extended an inked arm toward his bedroom door. You’d been in there for over an hour now, having excused yourself to bed for the night.

You’d made a point that you were going to bed alone.

“Should I not have told her how I feel?”

Steve pinched at this bridge of his nose, eyes tired and struggling to focus in a room of black velour upholstery and gold trim.

The spat started when Eddie informed you he’d booked your ticket to join him in England for the next few months while Corroded Coffin records their next album. It ended when Eddie, on bended knees, hands gripping your ribcage, told you he loved you.

Steve watched the entire exchange awkwardly from the kitchen, trying to blend in with white marble countertops.

Apparently, today was a day for firsts. He’d never seen you as nervous as he had in the gallery that morning, and he’d never seen you as angry. You were the silent type, but he felt the rage radiating off of your frame, the clench of your jaw, the subtle brush of Eddie’s hands from your waist.

He caught your gaze when you exited the room, and your demeanor shifted to apologetic, embarrassed maybe. He managed a tight-lipped smile and a wave.

“Harrington,” Eddie snapped his fingers. “Come on, you’re good with women, right? Help me out.”

Steve snorted. He’d been good with women, sure, but not since you waltzed into his life with your SD card and that smirk.

“How do we make up?” Munson’s shoulders were hunched, face fraught with worry.

With another drawn out sigh, Steve shrugged. “Give her space, man. She had a really scary day. You remember your first death threat, right? She needs time to process and not for you to demand she be shipped off to another country for two months.”

Eddie nodded, too much, too exuberantly. “Okay, okay. You’re right. That makes sense. I just…” He lowered his voice. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

That emotion, Steve understood. It was a fear that prickled at the base of his neck anytime Eddie winked at another girl in the front row, anytime he had his arms looped over two women backstage, anytime his phone sat on the coffee table between them with Sugar blowing up the notifications, neglected. Didn’t Eddie know what he had in you?

“We won’t.” He shook his head.

Eddie nodded. “You’re a good man, Steve Harrington. I’m sure going to miss you.”

Steve frowned at that, arms crossed over his chest. “Miss me? The hell are you talking about?”

“When I’m in England,” Eddie explained, reaching forward for the tin lunch box he kept tucked under the coffee table. The lid hid the glass with a clang, and he reached in for rolling papers, a lighter, and a ziplock bag full of weed.

“Are you firing me?” Steve wasn’t following.

Munson snorted, rolled a neat joint, licked it closed. “Harrington, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

Steve warmed, as he often did when someone complimented him, and frowned. “Cut the crap. What’re you talking about?”

“You’re going to stay here, with her.” He nodded your direction and lit up, flame glowing in big, brown eyes while he took a drag. He held onto it for a minute, shoulders going slack, knee stopping its bounce. He tilted his head against the back of the couch and released a large billow of smoke skyward, casting the room in a sickly sweet haze.

“She’s right, man,” he continued. “It’s not fair of me to take her from her gallery. She worked too hard for this.”

He sat up, offered the joint to his friend. Steve declined, head already starting to spin.

Eddie shrugged and took another hit. “I need you to protect her.”

Steve nodded. That was the easiest thing his friend had ever asked him to do.

“While I’m away, think you could do me another favor?

More smoke billowed from the man’s pink lips, that familiar Munson charm tugging at the corners of his mouth until his teeth were bared in that irresistible grin he was so famous for. He leaned forward then, gesturing for Steve to meet him at the center of the coffee table.

Steve leaned forward, and then a little more when the gesturing didn’t stop, rolling his eyes. “What now?”

Eddie’s smile fell to something far more serious, concern etched in his features, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes big like a baby deer in the headlights. Steve had only seen him this scared a handful of times. “I need you to use those killer wingman skills of yours to make her fall in love with me.”

Steve’s mouth almost fell open. He had to clench his jaw to keep from doing so, blinking across the six-inch gap at his friend. He could taste the weed on the other boy’s lips, the sweat off his brow.

“Please, man. I can’t lose her.”

—

Robin: You said yes!? How much do you actually hate yourself, Harrington?

Steve: You don’t want me to answer that, do you?

Robin: Was it the baby deer eyes?

Steve: Obviously.

Steve thanked Becky at the front desk with a wink, desperate the ego stroke he got every time she smiled at him like he hung the moon on a string.

Mood boosted, he balanced the coffee order in one hand and his phone in the other and ducked into the nearest elevator that would take him to the penthouse.

Steve: What do we think of Front Desk Becky?

Robin: You leave that sweet girl out of this.

Sufficiently deflated by his wise best friend, Steve keyed in the code to Eddie’s penthouse and let himself back in. Your sneakers remained on the entry rug, camera bag discarded on a nearby table.

Eddie’s bedroom door was open, satin sheets crumpled and pillows stacked to accommodate one. Upon quick glance, the ceiling mirror reveled the room to be empty.

Steve frowned. He hoped he hadn’t woken you.

He pressed forward down the hall and into the open living space, setting the cardboard coffee carrier on the kitchen island before turning to find you pressed against the glass, silhouetted in pink morning sunlight. Eddie’s face was buried into your neck, hands unseen, and your eyelids were heavy, pink lips bowed in ecstasy.

Steve froze. He knew he should look away, leave the room, make a noise, but his gaze lingered on the soft skin of your thigh hitched up Eddie’s leg, the curve of your calf, the point of your toe.

He could hear his heartbeat thundering, breath held, desperate not to make a sound or to scream and run.

Eddie dipped to his knees, mouth finding purchase lower on your chest.

Steve caught your gaze. Your eyes widened, and you shoved Eddie away from you and scrambled to cover bare skin with an oversized black hoodie.

“Steve,” you breathed, and Jesus it was dizzying. “I’m so sorry. I thought you left.” You pulled the hoodie down in a vain attempt at covering your thighs, looking everywhere but at the bodyguard in the kitchen.

He felt his own face warm, tapping fingertips to the countertops. His throat felt tight, a loss for words. His pants felt tighter.

“I ordered us coffee, Sugar,” Munson recovered the quickest, taking your hand to help himself off the floor and lead you into the kitchen.

You resisted his pull, taking a few steps back to say, “I’m going to get ready.”

“Need help?” Eddie waggled his eyebrows, grinning like a dog. Steve tried to ignore how wet the man’s lips looked.

You shook your head, venturing a glance Steve’s direction and looking immediately away when you were caught. Then you slunk off back to the bedroom from whence you came.

When he finally heard the click of the door, Steve frowned at his employer. “Guess I should’ve knocked.”

Eddie waggled his brows at Steve, too, taking his cup from the carrier and managing a sip.

Steve was ready with an ice water to cool the man’s burned tongue. “Does this mean you made up?”

Eddie shook his head fervently, tonguing at his water like a dog. “Hell no. She told me she’s going to the gallery today because, and I quote, she ‘can’t be held hostage in this velvet prison forever’.”

Steve grinned over his own steaming coffee and shrugged in commiseration to his friend.

Eddie nodded, took a gentler sip of his own coffee this time. “Had to shut her up when she started telling me to ‘have fun in the UK’ and maybe I should look up some old friends while I’m there.”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “I mean, Lizzie.”

“Don’t make me pin you to that window, Harrington,” the rockstar warned, inked finger extended with a scowl.

Steve followed his point to the window, wherein he could just make out the smudges of four distinct handprints, two much smaller than the others. There was also the faintest of smudges where your ass had been pressed against the glass. Steve coughed at the saliva gathering in his mouth.

“Eds?” You called upon reentry, voice echoing off concrete floors. “I’m leaving. I’ll… call you or something.” You were dressed and you had a tube of lipgloss in your hand, uncorked.

Eddie scrambled for you, scooping you up in his arms.

You stiffened, glancing up at the bodyguard keeping watch in the corner.

Steve swallowed, made himself look busy.

“Sugar, Steve’s going to keep an eye on you, just until we figure this death threat thing out, okay?” Eddie cleared the hair from your face.

Steve glanced back up to see you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need a babysitter. No offense, Steve.” You held a hand up to him.

“He’s not a babysitter,” Eddie snapped, “and he’s going to keep you safe. I can’t lose you. You hear me?” He pulled your gaze back to him, cupping your small jaw in large hands. “I love you.”

“Eddie,” you winced, tugging at his wrists.

The rockstar dropped his hands, shoulders hunched in defeat, and he turned to give Steve a pleading look before he turned back to you. “Alright, Sug. I’ll see you in two months. I’ll call as often as I can.”

“Okay,” you nodded and allowed him to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

—

Your lipstick stained the lid of your lavender latte, peachy pink. Your nails were freshly manicured for the gallery opening, and you always wore that delicate gold ring on your middle finger.

You set your cup on the countertop and didn’t look up from your laptop to say, “If you’re bored, you don’t have to stay here. I promise I’ll tell Eddie I never left your sight.”

Steve smiled over his own cup. “I’m not bored.” To appear occupied, he settled onto the desk behind yours and pulled out his phone.

The first image on his feed was yours, something you’d managed to snap of the old woman and her husband from the opening. They stared at the portrait of their apartment building, hand-in-hand, and you’d taken it at just the right instant, when the husband was smiling down at his wife.

Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Jones • Chicago

The gallery opening was everything I’d ever hoped for. Thank you to all sponsors and patrons who attended and to everyone who helped pull this together. If you’d like to check out my work, please drop by the gallery and say hello.

Steve hummed to himself, double-tapping, and typed a comment.

sharrington: Best gallery opening I’ve been to.

“Steve,” you scolded, “quit commenting on my shit. I’m standing right here.” It was the first smile he’d seen since yesterday.

“Oh, sorry,” he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest again to say, “Yours was the best gallery opening I’ve been to.”

That beautiful smile tugged even higher on your cheeks, despite your eye roll. “It was the only gallery opening you’ve been to.”

“You don’t know that,” he feigned offense.

You cocked a brow, bursting his facade until you were both snickering a laugh.

“Okay, but come on,” he pushed himself off the desk and strolled out into the open gallery. Egg shell white walls were naturally lit by skylights and the fourth glass wall of the small space. “This place was packed with people obsessed with your work, myself included.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, but remained behind the shelter of your desk. “Which one’s your favorite?”

A bubble of giddy excitement kicked in his chest, and he turned to face your artwork. The sunlight reflecting off the lake was good, the streak of streetlights in the rain, a collection of big, red brick buildings: all of these were his favorite. You’d managed to capture his city in unique and beautiful ways.

He pointed at each one and glanced back to see you shaking your head, eyes brightening and mouth failing to hide that smile.

Finally, he found that photo of the L he was admiring that night and wrapped his knuckles near it. “This one. You managed to capture no plastic bags.”

You rolled your eyes, but let his gesture pull you from your desk. “You can’t see it, but there was one caught around my ankle when I took the shot.”

Steve laughed. “Now that’s something I’d pay to see.”

You sucked your cheeks in a pout and glanced down the row at all of your photos, your accomplishments on display. “Steve,” you muttered. “Can I… vent for a second?”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning to face you, giving you his undivided attention.

You turned your body toward him as well, hands tucked under your arms. “It’s about Eddie.”

Steve felt his brow raise, but he nodded, miming the zip of his lips and extending you the key.

You chewed around another smile and extended your hand for him to place the invisible key into and wrapped your beautiful fingers around it. Then, you looked back at your photograph and chewed on your words.

Steve leaned forward to catch your gaze, pull your focus back on him.

You sighed, shrugged. “It’s just… Eddie’s used to having women fall at his feet and do whatever he says, isn’t he?”

Steve tried to keep his expression stoic, but it was hard when he thought of all the bras he’d kicked off of a stage, all of the groupies Eddie fingered in the wings, all of the women he’d had to call a ride share for to ensure they got home safely, too wobbly on their legs to drive.

You barked a laugh. “I know he is because I’m one of them.” You didn’t seem amused.

Steve frowned, shook his head. You deserve more credit than that. You weren’t like the others, not by a long shot.

“He came to my opening, right? He saw how important this was to me. Hell, he told you to help me run it because he had faith in me that it was going to be big.” You gestured around wildly as you spoke, frustration building in your tone. “And yet, he expects me to just pack up everything and fly to England for two months?”

Steve swallowed, chewing on his own words now.

“I know, it’s because he’s worried about me, and I do appreciate that, but it’s also like… I feel like he didn’t know what he had in me until he saw me get spooked, and now he’s trying to lock me down.” You frowned. “I can’t be broken. I’m not a horse.”

Steve nodded.

You paused a moment longer before looking into his eyes again. “If I ask you something, you promise to be honest with me?”

He nodded again, slowly. He’d do anything for you.

“Do you think he’s really in love with me?”

Steve’s heart shattered at the hope that lingered in your voice. He swallowed, remembered his promise to Eddie, and nodded.

You let out another strained laugh, as though you couldn’t believe it, and centered yourself before asking another. “Do you think he’s going to sleep with other women while he’s away?”

Again, Steve steeled himself with a deep breath, and shook his head. Eddie wouldn’t if he knew what was good for him, and what was good for him was you.

You cocked a brow, unbelieving of this answer, and toyed with another question in your mind for a moment. “Do you think I should go with him to England?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, gesturing around at your beautiful gallery. Two months with Eddie Munson wasn’t worth giving all of this up. If he was serious, and he really did love you, he’d prove it to you when he got back.

Your lips ticked upwards at that answer. “Hey, this zipped-lip Steve thing is kind of fun. I should have made you shut up a long time ago.”

Steve rolled his eyes and snorted at your delight.

You reached your hands out to grab his, swinging them back and forth between the two of you. Your hands were warm and and small and soft. “Hey, Steve, is there something you really, really want to tell me, but can’t? Because you can, you know.” You smirked. “This is a safe space. We’re all friends here.”

Sunlight poured in through the windows, casting your face in a golden glow. Your eyes sparkled, cheeks round, lips that soft, peachy pink.

There were so many things he wanted to say to you, he didn’t know where to start. So he caressed the backs of your hands with his thumbs and nudged you ever-closer.

The toes of your sneakers touched. Your eyelashes batted. You tilted your face skyward to look up at him. You licked your lips.

God, he wished he could kiss you. He wished he could taste the lavender of your latte and the length of your throat. He wished he could press you to the glass and let the world know you were his. He wished he could tell you every day for the rest of his life how beautiful you are, how talented you are, how perfect you are.

The smile fell from your face. You released one of his hands to brush hair from his forehead.

He held his breath.

You searched his gaze for something, your own features filled with worry, and you nodded. “You’re really scared about this Jason Carver guy, huh?”

Steve blinked. He’d forgotten entirely about the roses, the death threat, the reason he’d been paid to spend time with you, to watch over you, to protect you.

He cleared his throat and looked down at your hand in his. He brushed the back of it again with his thumb. His throat was tight, voice raw. “I just want to keep you safe.”

A bell rang, putting a few feet between you. You adjusted your hair and straightened your top before shooting him a ‘wish me luck’ look and stepping away to greet your newest buyer.

—

Hopper: No leads on that delivery. I’ve got Callahan asking around. Powell’s looking into Carver. Keep me posted on other developments.

Steve tapped nervous fingers to the deli’s glass countertops, craning his neck for a vantage on your gallery windows.

You’d practically forced him out, insisting this was your favorite sandwich place in town and nothing else would suffice. When he offered to pay for delivery, you reminded him how uncomfortable you felt with deliverers right now and promised you’d lock the door behind him. He wished he could have convinced you to join him.

“Dude, we’re going as fast as we can,” the sandwich artist snapped, cutting pastrami into thin slices.

Steve frowned back at him, confused for a moment, before taking his hand from the glass and shoving it into his jeans pocket. “Oh, sorry.” His foot tapped instead.

An 80s love ballad played over the speakers, and the whole place smelled of cold cuts. A small line had formed behind the counter of people going about their day-to-day.

Steve looked at each one of them as a suspect. Though, he was pretty sure Babushka in the headscarf wasn’t eliciting death threats to beautiful girls via three dozen red roses. She felt more like the cast-a-spell type.

He snorted and glanced back out the window just in time to see a black car pull up to the gallery. A man stepped out.

“Forty-five?” The deli employee called out.

Steve took a few steps toward the window, squinting against the glare to see a tall man with white hair approach the glass. He wrapped two knuckles on the front door. You met him there.

“Dude, your sandwiches!” The guy behind the counter called, and Steve cursed, grabbing them with a thanks and a nod.

He glanced up just in time to see you unlocking and opening the gallery door, and he began to run your direction.

“Hey, man! You forgot your pickles! Asshole…”

The wind whipped at his ears, and he nearly ran out in front of a moving vehicle. The driver honked and flipped him off, and Steve waited for him to pass before checking both ways and crossing to get to you again.

He made a mental note of the black car’s license plate: GCCF and swung open the gallery door with a ring of the bell.

The man stood beside you, tall and lanky, with broad shoulders and a haircut that hadn’t changed since the early 70s. He wore a grey suit, and a black tie, and a smile as he admired your photos.

You smiled at Steve from across the space and waved.

Relief warmed Steve’s spine, and he toed to the desktop to place the sandwich bag, careful not to make any noise so he could overhear bits of your conversation.

“That sounds like an amazing opportunity,” you said, even-keeled, though Steve knew you were bursting inside. “I’m honored for the invitation.”

“I’m glad you agree,” the man chuckled. “Your talent really is a gift to this city, and we’ll be proud to display your work in our halls.”

You were beaming. Steve’s stomach flipped.

“Now, our guests usually love to speak with the artists featured in the auction. Are you free Friday evening? Could I coax you to attend?” The man turned to face you now, reaching into his inside pocket for something.

Steve took two steps forward.

The man extended you a small, white slip of paper.

You read it over with a tight-lipped nod. Then you smiled. “I would love to go.”

“Excellent,” the man nodded. “It is black tie. Could I give my assistant the name of a plus-one?”

You swallowed before answering. “Sure, Steve Harrington.”

Steve felt his face warm, and he nearly tripped over a power cord stepping back behind the desk.

The man you were speaking to nodded with a knowing smile and glanced down at his watch. “Well, unfortunately I must be going. I have a lunch meeting to attend. Good timing too, it seems as if your lunch has arrived, and it smells delicious.” He ventured a glance Steve’s direction, and the bodyguard squared his shoulders.

“Thank you so much for dropping by, and for your business. I look forward to the event.” You smiled, extending a hand for the stranger to shake.

He reciprocated your gesture. “Thank you for your work, my dear. It is breathtaking. Expect that deposit by end of day, and we’ll see you Friday evening. Have a great day.”

“You too.”

Steve watched you watch the man walk to the door and get into his car. Your chest was still, breath held until the black car was started and began to drive.

Then, you began to jump up and down, screaming, like a teenaged girl who had just been asked to prom.

Steve frowned, shaking his t-shirt to dry the sweat that clung to his back. “What’s going on?”

You grinned and did an adorable little skip and hop back to your desk, sliding two pieces of paper across for him to read. Then, you broke into the sandwich bag.

Steve peered down at a stark white business card with grey lettering, and a matching invitation.

Martin Brenner

Founder and CEO

Gifted Children of Chicago Foundation

Annual Gala and Live Auction

“So, this guy, Brenner or whatever,” you explained, peeling the parchment paper from your bread, “just came in and bought my entire playground collection. Can you believe it? All nine photos. He said he’s going to hang them in the halls of his school.” The sound that came from your lips exceeded dogs’ hearing in pitch.

Steve bit back a smile to let you continue.

You took a huge bite of your sandwich first, olive oil clinging to the corner of your lips and dripping down the back of your hand.

Steve shook a napkin from the paper bag and handed it to you.

You thanked him, mouth full, and swallowed before mopping your face. “Then he says he wants to offer up another one of my pieces in their annual live auction.”

Steve snapped a photo of the two cards and sent them to his contacts in the police force for some background information, nodding to let you know he was listening.

“Do you own a tuxedo, by the way?” You asked, cheek chipmunked.

Steve frowned back at you. He’d been head of security for Corroded Coffin for upwards of six years. He’d been to more award shows than he could count. Of course he had a tuxedo.

“What?” You feigned innocence, cracking into one of the sodas you’d pulled from the vending machine while you waited for Steve to return. “If you have to be my new bodyguard, I can’t go to this gala alone.”

He sighed and began to neatly unfold his own sandwich, lettuce falling every which way. “Yes, I have a tuxedo.”

“Really?” You grinned. “I should bring my camera.”

He shot you a look. “You going to tell me why you unlocked the door for a random stranger while I was picking up your lunch?”

You swallowed. “He sent me an email?”

Steve maintained eye contact while he popped the tab on his own soda, shoulders squared. He felt like a dad every time he interrogated Eddie for late nights out with no correspondence. The stance didn’t translate well to Robin over text.

“I figured I could take an old man,” you shrugged.

Steve cocked an eyebrow.

You sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, for now, Steve took a bite into his sandwich and stared back down at the business card on the tabletop, hoping this guy didn’t have any ties to Carver or whoever it was that sent you that note.

“No pickles?” You frowned, peeking into the mostly empty paper sack.

—

1 Voicemail

Hey, kid. It’s Hopper. Brenner’s one of Chicago elites, but as far as we know he’s harmless. He runs that school for gifted kids. Real pillar of the community type. Could be mob ties, but who the hell in this city doesn’t have mob ties?

Couldn’t find anything on the delivery company, and no florists in town filled orders that big. Something’s definitely off. Powell spoke to Carver’s assistant, but he was out of the office. Keep an eye out.

Joyce wanted me to invite you and the girl to dinner. Stay safe, kid. Let me know if anything else comes up.

Lucas: All safely on the plane and ready for take off. England won’t be the same without you, man. Take care.

Eddie: Ready for take off. Thanks for taking care of my girl, big man. See you in two months.

Robin: You’re sitting in your car watching her apartment? You’re a creep, Harrington. Please tell me you don’t know the color of her bra tonight.

Steve groaned and rubbed at tired eyes.

He hated that he knew your bra was a soft, stone grey. He’d seen the strap slip down your arm. You’d caught it and pushed it back up, mid-conversation with a browser this afternoon.

He glanced up from the glare of his phone at your open front window. He couldn’t see anything substantial from this vantage, just the shadows cast on dimly lit ceilings as you moved around your home.

Maybe Robin was right, maybe he should go home and rest. No more threats had been issued today, that he knew of. You seemed to be less afraid than you were the day before, and with Eddie gone, maybe you weren’t in as much harm as you had been. Still, something gnawed at him.

Steve startled when his phone began vibrating in his hand. Your name, and a photo of you grinning back at him, filled his little car with light. He answered. “Hello?”

“I can see you.”

Steve gulped and shifted to look back up at your window. You stood there in an oversized sweatshirt, waggling your fingers.

“Come inside, please.”

“What?”

“Bring your fedora and binoculars and come on up. I’ll buzz you in.”

You met him at the door in baggy clothes with two glasses of wine in your hand. You waited for him to step out of his shoes and shrug off his jacket before handing him one glass, and then you led him to the little futon propped up into a sofa near a loved coffee table.

A few candles burned, casting everything in flickered shadows. The place smelled of lavender and honey and smoky amber.

“So,” you raised an eyebrow, sipping from your glass. You pulled your legs up to be crossed and tilted yourself to face him. “Tell me about this Carver guy.”

Steve frowned, stretching an arm across the back of the couch to appear comfortable.

“Well, if it’s serious enough that Eddie’s got you staking out my apartment, I need to know who I’m up against.” You frowned, taking another sip from your glass, the legs spilling from your sweet lips and back into the liquid.

Charity events attracted a diverse crowd, metal bands and church groups converging for the greater cause, their own positive PR. Knocked elbows at the start of the night often led to knockouts once the open bar started flowing. The mob made connections and burned bridges and somehow, the world kept turning.

One such event, Steve had eyes on Munson from across the room. The rockstar was flirting with some senator-to-be or another, a good friend of the Obamas, if he remembered correctly. Sinclair had eyes on the other band members at other tables. They all seemed happy, buzzed, low-key despite studded tuxedos.

Steve clocked the approach before Eddie had. A blonde man in a white suit caught sight and B-lined from near the stage.

Steve crossed to intercept him, stopping the young man with two fingers to his chest before he could get around the final linen-covered table. “Can I help you?”

The stranger’s face split in a menacing grin that sent chills down his spine. Never in his life had Steve felt something so cold. All his instincts went on high alert, fight or flight. One fist clenched at his side.

“I was just hoping for a little tête-á-tête with Mr. Munson,” the man gestured a hand out.

Steve dropped his hand, noticing the steel tie pin in the shape of a cross. “He’s busy at the moment, but let me take down your information, and we’ll see if we could find time for you at a later function.”

“Are you his secretary or his babysitter?” Still with the grin, dead between the eyes.

“Why? You looking for a playdate?” Steve squared his shoulders, inches taller than the other man.

“I’m just looking to ask one question.”

“Shoot,” Eddie approached from behind Steve, shoulders squared in the same manner as his bodyguard.

The other man tucked his hand into white jacket, and Steve stuck his hand in front of Eddie, just in case, until Carver retrieved his business card and handed it over. Sleek, white, with grey lettering.

Reverend Jason Carver

Faithful Servant of Christ

“Do you, Mr. Munson, take responsibility for casting yourself and all of your followers to the very depths of Hell to burn for an eternity?”

Steve didn’t take his eyes off of Carver, but he could feel Eddie’s grin growing beside him.

“You’re damn right I do.”

Carver seemed just as pleased with this answer as the rockstar had been. He nodded, an odd twinkle in his eye, and said, “Thank you so much, Mr. Munson. I hope you and your hell hound have a lovely evening.”

That was the one and only time Steve had met the man, and he’ll never forget the weight of his presence.

You’d set your wine glass on the coffee table beside his, and you were curled closer now, frown creasing your sweet brow. “And then he burned that place down in Milwaukee?”

Steve sighed, playing with a loose thread on the futon, fingertips dangerously close to your shoulder. He wished he could sweep your hair back, kiss the crease from your forehead, reassure you he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“Well, first, he had all of the funding pulled from that almost-senator, set her up for public exposure, basically ruined her entire life. When asked to comment, he said ‘jezebels and harlots get what they deserve’. Fucking asshole.” Steve scoffed.

There was a far-off look in your eye, like you were considering the weight of those words when compared to you.

Without a second thought, Steve brushed his knuckles against your cheek, pulling your focus back to him. “Hey, you know I’ll never let anyone hurt you, right?”

You surprised him by leaning into his touch, nodding. You released a shaky laugh, your voice caught in your throat. “I was really trying to be brave.”

Steve smiled, and opened his mouth to tell you you were, to tell you you were beautiful, to tell you he’s been in love with you from the moment he met you because you were all of those things.

Your phone began ringing, loud and incessant, a vibration from the coffee table that lit up the room with a photo of Eddie’s face.

You ducked away from Steve’s touch and patted at warmed cheeks, reaching for your phone. “I should probably get this.”

Steve nodded, cleared his throat, reached forward to take a long swig of alcohol. It went down dry.

“I actually think I’ll go to bed.” You silenced your phone and stood up, backing slowly from the living room. “You don’t mind the futon, right? Here are some extra blankets and a pillow.” You gestured toward a little wicker basket beside the sofa. “Use whatever you’d like in the bathroom.”

Steve stood to mirror you, hoping his smile seemed more reassuring than he felt. “Sleep tight. If you need anything…”

You nodded, smiled. “Thank you. Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

Halfway down the hallway, you answered your phone, sweet nothings murmured for someone else.

---

Moodboard • Fic Masterlist • Part Two

[A/N: So yeah, this just kind of... came out of me. It's been cooking since February, but I've sat down like three times over the last week and spewed out 10k. And I got too excited to wait to post it, so here you are. Please give me all your thoughts and feelings. Is bodyguard!Steve my new favorite Steve? Is rockstar!Eddie my new favorite Eddie? Maybe so. xoxoxo]

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #bodyguard!steve harrington #rockstar!eddie munson #steve harrington #hell hound wip #hell hound fic

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lovesuhng · 8 days ago

Text

magical

w.c: 1k fluff, both are in their 30s, friends who spent many years apart

Being home for Christmas was something Johnny always made a point to do. When he said "home," he didn’t mean the apartment he had in downtown Chicago but rather his parents’ house, where he had spent his childhood and teenage years before heading off to a university on the other side of the world.

Beyond the incredible memories he had created with his parents, that house held reminders of moments he had shared with the person he missed the most: you.

You and Johnny grew up together. It was amazing to think that you had been by each other’s side during practically every stage of life. Those moments ranged from playing together at the park when you were five to getting drunk for the first time in Johnny’s backyard at sixteen. He still remembered how both of you got scolded by your parents that night.

It was impossible for Johnny to be home at Christmas and not think of you, especially since it was your favorite time of the year. Being practically part of the family, you were always present at the Suh family’s Christmas celebrations. You always said, “Everything feels more magical with Johnny around.”

Thirteen years had passed since Johnny had moved to Korea and you had gone to Brazil, yet he still wondered how you were doing. Did you still find Christmas magical even being so far from him?

His thoughts were interrupted when his mom asked him to help her bake the cookies you both loved so much.

"Ah, we need to make more because we’re having a guest over tonight."

Dinner time was approaching. Johnny was helping his mom with the final preparations, but he couldn’t help noticing her unusual behavior. She seemed nervous about this mysterious "guest." The doorbell rang, and Johnny’s mom quickly asked him to answer it, claiming she was too busy.

He went to the door and couldn’t believe his eyes.

You were standing there, visibly nervous, but with a smile that had stayed in his mind for more than ten years. You still remembered the girl who had been his partner in crime, but he couldn’t ignore how much you had changed. You had grown into a woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was sure his expression was funny because as soon as you saw him, you let out a little laugh.

"I’m not a ghost, I swear. Merry Christmas!" "Y-you’re the guest my mom was talking about?" "Well, I think so. But please, can I come in? It’s freezing out here."

As soon as you stepped inside, Johnny pulled you into a tight, lingering hug. The warmth of his embrace melted you, filling you with a sense of "home" that settled deep in your body and heart.

Dinner was amazing. His parents and you spent hours talking and remembering about the funniest moments from past years. Afterward, Johnny invited you to the backyard to share the wine you had brought, remembering the old times.

"Wow, being here brings back so many memories…" you said, sighing as a wave of sweet nostalgia washed over you. You smiled, thinking about all the good times you’d had with Johnny. "Remember when your mom caught us drinking?" "How could I forget? It was the worst scolding of my life. The funny thing is, my mom was more worried about you." "Your mom is the best!"

The laughter faded as the two of you turned your attention to the Christmas lights decorating the house.

"I missed you so much."

Your focus shifted from the twinkling lights to Johnny, whose gaze remained fixed on them.

"All these years, I kept wondering how you were, if you thought of me the same way I thought of you, if you still remembered our goodbye kiss…" Johnny said with a sheepish smile, finally looking at you.

You stared back, a mix of surprise and admiration filling your expression. He had been thinking of you all this time. You remembered that kiss as well. It was your first and last kiss with Johnny. You were just teenagers then, friends whose feelings had finally come to light, revealing something deeper than mere friendship.

"I thought about you a lot too… and about that kiss. Too bad it was already too late back then." "It’s never too late to tell someone you love them," Johnny said, stepping closer.

He gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before resting his hand on the back of your neck.

"And I still love you."

When Johnny’s lips met yours, it felt as if you had been transported back to that first kiss, but this time, there was no rush. As your tongues intertwined, a warmth spread between you, banishing the chill of the Christmas night.

The need for air eventually pulled you apart, but you stayed in Johnny’s arms. He smiled, mesmerized by the redness of your lips after the kiss. You stared at each other for a moment, the silence speaking volumes about what you both felt.

"John," you whispered.

He had missed the way you said his name.

"Thank you for reminding me that Christmas is still magical when I’m with you."

You kissed him again, slowly, savoring every second. Johnny’s hands held your waist firmly as you leaned on his shoulders, basking in his warmth.

He broke the kiss with a laugh, leaving you confused.

"What’s so funny?"

"Looks like someone is very happy about our kiss," he said, nodding toward the window.

You turned to see Johnny’s mom celebrating with a little dance—one you both thought was ridiculous—but you couldn’t help laughing at her enthusiasm.

"Something tells me she planned all of this. I’ll have to remember to thank her." "So…" Johnny said, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze was deep, fixed on yours. "What happens now?"

"John, loving you was never a choice, it was always a certainty. I have no doubts about how I feel for you. Let’s see where this takes us. But for now, why don’t you give me another kiss? You know, it’s freezing out here…"

It was heartwarming to see how happiness radiated from Johnny. He was sure this was the most magical Christmas of all—because now you were back in his life, and he wasn’t letting you go.

#nct scenarios #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct drabbles #johnny nct #nct johnny #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #johnny x reader #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh #johnny fluff

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miguel-ohara-lover · 1 year ago

Note

Miguel ohara x spiderwoman/single mom reader, where she brings her baby to work at the spider society

Ooooh yes yes yes. I thrive on dad!Miguel so this is amazing.

Miguel x Spider-Woman W/ a Baby

CW: Fluff, dad!Miguel, reader has a baby, Mig is a little tough at first but don’t worry… slight angst cuz of Gabi

I had to ask my mom some stuff cuz… I don’t know shit about babies… also I might have projected a little towards the end don’t mind me…

Part two

It’s not uncommon for spider-people to bring their children to the spider society. Hell, that’s what the day passes are for. Peter B started the trend with Mayday, and after that many spiders wanted to bring their little ones too.

Today you were no different, deciding to bring your baby girl, Alice, to the society. You knew of all places in the multiverse she’d be the safest here. A few folks were surprised to see you with the baby, some cooing and saying she’s adorable, but most kept to themselves.

You headed to the boss’s office, grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria along the way. You needed to make sure you weren’t assigned any missions today. As you walked in, Miguel turned to you to see what you needed, a familiar frown settling on his face when he saw your baby.

He had never liked all the spider people bringing their children. I mean, who would after what he’s been through. Peter seemed to love torturing him with Mayday constantly, but Miguel would never admit it hurt. You noticed the look and chose to keep some distance.

After a few seconds you spoke. “Hey, Miguel, I was just popping in to ask if I have any missions today?”

“Actually…” He turns to one of his screens. “You just got one. In an hour.”

“What? I can’t do a mission today, I have my daughter with me.”

“That’s not my problem.” Miguel doesn’t turn to look at you again. You huff and look around the room while debating what you should do, Alice cooing a little and looking around the unfamiliar room as well.

“Maybe… you could watch her?”

Miguel groaned a little. “Me? Why me?”

“Well I trust you’d keep her safe, boss. And she seems to like you.” You gesture to Alice making the cutest grabby hands at the big scary man. That makes Miguel’s hard outer shell crumble a little, images of his daughter flashing in his mind.

“Hm… how long…?”

“However long the mission is.” You smiled.

Miguel sighed. “Fine… fine… leave her with me…” He lowered his platform more and got down, holding his arms out to take the baby. You carefully handed off the baby to him, and he holds her expertly. He knew what he was doing.

You smiled up at him, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Thank you so much, Miguel.” Alice giggled and cooed at Miguel, waving her little hands at him. All he did was nod to you as a response, his eyes on the baby. You give her a gentle kiss to the forehead before heading off to get ready for your mission.

———

After the mission

———

You returned from your surprisingly easy mission, heading straight for Miguel’s office to retrieve your baby. When you walk in you see Miguel on his platform, holding Alice against his shoulder. He’s gently bouncing her and singing in Spanish, lulling her to sleep. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Miguel notices you and placed a finger to his lips, telling you to stay quiet. Once the baby was asleep he spoke in a very quiet whisper.

“You we’re gone longer than I thought you’d be, y/n. Run into any trouble?”

You shook your head no. “The mission was pretty easy, surprisingly.”

“That’s good. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Alice’s mami.” His eyes were still on your baby, hand on her back as he continued to gently rock and bounce her as she slept so peacefully.

You look up at Miguel. “You make a lovely dad.” He froze for a moment and looked at you.

“Really…?” Is all he said. Your smile grew and you nodded. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, and for the first time since you’ve known him, Miguel smiled. A real genuine smile.

You swing up to his platform and place a gentle hand on his free shoulder. He glanced at your hand, a little confused by the gesture. There’s a slight blush on his cheeks, and you could tell you finally cracked through those walls he had put up.

“I’m sure her father wouldn’t enjoy this.” He tried to pull away from you, tried to put his walls back up.

You shook your head again. “Her father isn’t in the picture…”

“Really? What kind of father would abandon his daughter?” His red eyes almost seem to glow as anger fills him. He couldn’t imagine a dad causing harm, mentally or otherwise, to his own child. The thought made him sick, made him want to hunt down your ex and-

“Hey.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll have you…” You gave him a gentle smile. Miguel was surprised at that, but it made him happy. He loved the idea of being in Alice’s life more, of being a father figure to her.

“Would you… perhaps like to get dinner later?” Miguel looked into your eyes, and you could see the anger dissipating, being replaced with love.

“I’d love that.” You lean up and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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ghostofhyuck · 7 months ago

Text

Whispers of the Ocean

Merman! Huang Renjun x Human! Reader

Summary: The ocean is a dangerous place. Your grandmother said. You were obedient enough to follow her and at the same time, you were curious. You found yourself lured by the deep bodies of water, as if it’s been calling for you.

Word count: 4.2k

TW: Contains violence, and death. Read at your own risk.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“The ocean is a dangerous place my dear,” your grandma said. Her soft arms wrapping around you who innocently stared at the blue waves crashing against the bay.

You looked up at her. She stood there firm as if her eyes weren’t red and swollen due to crying — you don't know why she was crying.

“That’s why you mustn't venture out there! It may look so majestic but I must warn you, danger is what awaits you there,”

It’s been decades since you last saw your grandma. As far as you know, she remained in her hometown. A small provincial island that could only be traveled by a boat — a reason why she couldn’t leave it. You barely recall why your grandma loathes the ocean, it was a long mystery to you that even your mother avoided as a topic.

You grew up in the city, away from the calm sea and the bodies of water. You weren’t allowed to swim at any beach of bodies of water unless it's a pool. You never got your answer about it, but perhaps it somehow connected to that faded memory of you and your grandma.

But things have changed, soon you learned that your grandma was ill. Forcing your mother to visit her mother again after years of living in the city. To ease her worries, you volunteered to accompany her.

“Just remember, don’t ever go near the ocean. I know that mama’s house is on the beach front, but please yn, I don’t want to worry about you too,” your mother pleaded.

“Of course ma, I won’t, I promise,” you said, smiling at her.

The trip was a 2 hour boat ride from a larger town. You were amazed by the clear and blue water of the ocean. You wondered how deep the ocean was, you were filled with curiosity, wanting to know more about the mystery of it. But you don’t want to worry your mother, that’s why you looked away and stared at the small island that is your destination. As soon as you reached the dock, you were welcomed by a woman who’s the same age as your mother.

“Oh look at you,” she said, hugging your mother the moment she stepped on the fine white sand. “I miss you! and — oh my! Is this your daughter?”

“This is yn, she’ll be staying here to help me with mama,” your mom smiles.

You got acquainted with Auntie Cora, she was your mother’s childhood best friend. She lives with her family on a small island and looks after your grandma. She shared that weeks earlier, your grandmother had a fever due to the change of the weather. It wasn’t that bad, it’s just, she needs to rest so that it won’t get worse.

You found yourself staring at your grandmother’s house. It was the same house where some of your childhood days happened, but as you stare at it, you find nothing, not even a hint of nostalgia at the place.

“I told Cora that I’m fine,” your grandmother said with an angry tone. Just like what aunt Cora said, her sickness wasn’t that bad.

“Ma, you’re already eighty-five, a fever may bring something worse,” your mother justified.

“I’m fine! I took some medicine earlier and drank herbal tea,” your grandma answered. “You shouldn’t have returned here! You’re safer in the city!”

“Ma stop with that,” you heard your mother’s tone becoming serious, you watched as your grandmother turned around and at that moment, they had a staring contest.

Your mother was first to let go, she pulled you away from the scene. You followed her quietly until you two reached a room.

“Ma, what was that all about?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” your mother quickly gave you a smile. “The trip was kinda tiring right? Let’s just rest for a while.”

But you didn’t want to rest. You excuse yourself if you can go out and look around, your mother only gave you a nod after you told her that you won’t go near the ocean. With that, you skipped your way out of the house.

You glance at the ocean. It was calm. It was three in the afternoon and you watched as the sun gleamed against the blue ocean. You were amazed, it was the first time you saw an ocean. You could only see them through films or images, but witnessing it in real life felt surreal to you.

You watched as the wave crashed against the white sand, it was calm, like a whisper. You found yourself locked in the ocean. Wondering. What danger is out there? You wanted to know, to feel the water crash against your feet. You wanted to know how deep it is, and think of the mystery you can unfold by just sinking in the ocean.

But as you were about to take a step back, you were stopped by a hand. You turned around and saw Aunt Cora smiling at you.

“You should thank me that it was me who caught you,” she teased. You only nod, looking away embarrassed.

“Can I ask you a question?” you blurted out before she could leave. Aunt Cora turns around and gives you a smile.

“Do you think that the ocean is dangerous?”

“I think the ocean is beautiful,” she answered. “It uses its beauty to trap us into danger, that’s why you should never fall for it.”

Her words remained in your mind until dinner time. Your mother cooked food and while the three of you sat there in silence. You couldn’t help but to hear the waves crashing. Just like earlier, it was still calm, but you couldn’t help but to hear it like a lullaby. It’s so tranquil that you couldn’t even imagine why they would think of it like that.

Even in the deep of the night, you couldn’t sleep. All you can hear is nothing but the waves. It’s calling you. You know it, your heart is skipping with nervousness. Agitated at your bed while your mother is resting next to you. You glanced at her and saw that she was already in her deep sleep.

“Fuck it, just tonight,” you convinced yourself. You just wanted to see it for yourself. Just tonight you wanted to dip your feet into the water. That’s all and nothing else.

You slowly crept out of your bed, careful not to wake up your mother. Your light steps carried you like a feather as you exited the house and went to the bay barefoot.

Just like the waves, the wind was calm too. There’s nothing but eerie silence and the once clear, blue ocean became a deep void of water. There’s nothing but silence and as much as it intimidates you, your curiosity is much stronger.

Slowly, you took small steps against the water. You felt chills the moment the small stream touched your feet, feeling the cold water. You only smile as slowly, you take another step, and another, until the water is ankle deep. It felt amazing, you glanced at the ocean and thought that the ocean may not be so bad after all.

“You’re new here aren’t you,” you were startled when you heard a voice. You glanced at your right and your knees weakened at the sight.

“Y-you…”

“Oh? Seems like you are new here, are you surprised?” he asked, smiling.

“You guys exist!?” you shouted.

“I mean, you’re seeing me, so basically we exist.”

You didn’t say a word. Your eyes glued at the creature in front of you.

He was breathtaking. Against the light around the area, you can see how ethereal his face is. He’s staring at you, smiling as if you’re a friend to him. His black hair falls beautifully long. His eyes were silver blue, contrasting the golden scales that seemed through his arms and oh. His tail looks magnificent as it reflects against the light. Blue hues adorned in golden scales.

“You’re real,” was the first thing you said after it sank into you.

“We are.”

“And you can understand me.”

“I can.”

You choked a breath. “I can believe it.”

“I guess it’s your first time encountering a merman huh?” he laughs. “I’m Renjun by the way.”

“Yn,” you introduced shortly. “Is it okay if I can go near you?”

Renjun only reached for your hands. Slowly, you walked your way towards him, and as soon as you reached him, you held his hand. It was cold, but soft, they weren’t wrinkled at all. You lightly squeezed it as you positioned yourself to sit beside Renjun who’s smile never left.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“My grandmother’s sick, I accompanied my mom —”

“ — no, I mean here outside by the ocean,” Renjun clarified. “No one goes to the ocean unless they’ll ride a boat out of this place.”

That’s when you feel your ears deafened. “What do you mean?”

Renjun only hums, “no one goes to the ocean around here, only fishermen.”

“So you knew about it. Why?”

But he merely shrugged, “I don’t know why. The ocean’s too beautiful to be avoided, people are just scared to discover it.”

“That’s what they told me,” you only let out a sigh. “That the ocean’s so beautiful that we can’t see its danger.”

You heard Renjun laugh. “The ocean’s not dangerous! Look at it! It’s so peaceful, I live in the ocean and trust me, the ocean is far dangerous from it.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you want to see it for yourself?”

An invitation. You can feel your heart beating fast. You glance at the body of water and you can feel yourself gulping.

“But it’s too dark,” you pointed out.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Renjun casually said. “I got you, I can tour you there! You can even meet my family.”

You only stare at him.

“Okay maybe we cannot meet my family but! Let me show you what lies beneath the ocean,” he reaches for his hand once again. “Do you trust me?”

You stared at him for a second. Renjun gives you an assuring smile as he reaches out his hand once again. You couldn’t help but to glance at it. Heart skipping a beat.

“Only for tonight,” you said to him.

“Then that’s a yes,” he smiles at you.

Carefully he trails you towards the ocean. The water slowly rises up. You breathe in as you can feel the water up to your chest, you hold onto Renjun tightly as you can feel it around your shoulders.

“Wait,” Renjun stops. “Before we take another step, there’s something I should do so that you can breathe underwater.”

“Okay,” you only said.

But what you didn’t expect next was that he cups your cheeks, and the next thing you know, Renjun’s lips are planted on yours. Your eyes went wide as you could feel his lips blew air in between. From there, he separates from you.

“Are you ready to dive?” he asked.

Still in daze, you could only nod. He tugs you and as you dipped into the water, you open your eyes as Renjun pulls you closer.

You gasped as you could feel yourself breathing normally under the water. You could only glance at Renjun who’s smiling widely. He pulls you to a deeper part of the ocean, and you could only look around. Amazed at how you can see the surface and the blurry image of the moon above.

Renjun stops and points at something, your eyes grow bigger at the sight.

The view was surreal. It was far from the things you saw on the internet or in films. The ocean was majestic. Its color was bright despite the dark night and you can see the sea creatures swimming around. It was alive, as if you’re in another world.

Renjun brought you to places that made you mesmerized about the ocean. Coral reefs displayed were like flowers in a garden. He even grabbed a starfish for you to touch. You only let out a small giggle as Renjun toured you more, and further, until you lost track of time.

As you rose from the surface, you could see that the island is far from where you are. You only glance at Renjun who looks at you with awe.

“Thank you Renjun,” you said. “You were right, there’s nothing to be scared of in the ocean.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” he smiles. “But the sun might rise in a few hours. We should bring you home.”

“Of course,” you only nod.

But none of you moved, both of you are smiling ear to ear as you remain from where you two are.

You don’t know why but you felt brave that night, so you approached Renjun once again, slowly you leaned against him for another kiss. He reciprocates it softly. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you closer, even carrying you as you lean more to his body.

Morning arrived without any suspicion from your mother.

“At the rocks? Are you sure, dear?” your mother asked, creasing her forehead.

“Yes I’m sure ma and no swimming, I know,” you said to her.

“No!” your grandmother refuses. “Even by the rocks you’re not allowed!”

“Ma,” your mother hushes and then glances at you. “You’re good to go, you should return here dry okay?”

You only gave your mom a smile before stepping out of the house. That’s when she glances at her mother who has her forearms crossed.

“You’re going to regret letting her venture out of the sea,” your grandmother said.

“Mom please,” your mother begged. “She’s not her, okay?”

Meanwhile you found your way to the huge rocks scattered on the left side of the island. It’s a secluded part of the island, and you are convinced why; the trail path is just full of sharp rocks. Carefully, you walked your way there and as you noticed a familiar figure waiting, you were able to ignore the pain on your feet.

“Yn!”

“I’m here!” you shouted, as soon as you left the path and felt your feet against the fine white sand, you ran your way to Renjun who’s waiting for you there.

You spent your days with Renjun. Like a secret summer affair that no one knows. It was a thrill. Every day you’ll go to the rocks where he’ll be waiting. It’s either you two stay there and just talk but sometimes it involves you getting dragged back to the ocean. You fell in love with the ocean. It's peaceful and quiet. Far from the city or the island where you truly belong. It wasn’t hard to fall for it especially when Renjun’s there to show you more about the ocean. You met some of his friends, fellow mer-people who accepted you immediately.

Soon, your mother’s warnings about the ocean became nothing to you. You probably thought that it’s just them being overprotective of you. You were still careful when you venture out, never attempt to stray further from the island.

“Before you go, there’s something I want to give you,” Renjun said. The sun was slowly setting and you two just finished another adventure. You were just waiting for your clothes to dry.

“What is it?” you asked.

You watch as Renjun removes one of his bracelets. He hands it over to you and you only stare at it. It was an intricate bracelet with pearls and shells. You traced it gently and found it beautiful.

“It’s beautiful,” you said. “Thank you.”

“It’s to show them that you’re mine,” Renjun stated, making you laugh.

“Then I’ll wear it for you.”

It fits your wrist perfectly. You were so happy that you gave Renjun another kiss. He happily obliges and once you two separated, he cups your cheeks and strokes it gently with his thumb.

“I’ll be always waiting here for you okay?” he said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you promised.

As soon as you reached your grandmother’s house, your smile faded. You saw your grandmother and mother waiting for you there with their disappointed expressions. Beside them was Aunt Cora.

“Ma, is there something wrong?” you asked.

Your mother let out a sigh, “I can’t believe you disobeyed me.”

That’s when you started to feel nervous. “Ma —”

“I told you to never go to the ocean!”

“But I’m safe! Look at me, I’m alive! The ocean is not dangerous ma!” you shouted in defense.

“That’s not the case yn, I told you one thing and you didn’t follow my order,” she pointed out.

“Why? Is it that bad? The ocean is beautiful! I can’t believe you didn’t let me near it for years —”

“Beautiful!? If it’s beautiful then why did it take my daughter away!?” your grandmother interrupted.

Your eyes grew large at the revelation. You stared at your mother who looked at your grandma with an angry expression.

“Ma! Stop it!” she said.

“She has to know! She has the right to know,” your grandma defended. “Those merpeople are murderers! They murdered her!”

“You knew about them?” you could only ask.

“They rule the ocean yn,” Aunt Cora explained. “They didn’t like how we people are invading their ecosystem and stealing fish from them. They also are deeply obsessed with people, women to be exact.”

That’s when Renjun came into your mind. No, it’s impossible. He can’t be a murderer. They’re wrong. Renjun’s kind and sweet. He showed you the ocean and there’s nothing for you to be afraid about. You met the merpeople, they were kind and friendly. Maybe they’ve misunderstood the merpeople. If that was the case, then there shouldn’t be anyone living on this island.

“No, that’s not true,” you said softly. “They’re kind! They’re friendly and —”

“They took away your aunt,” your grandma pointed out.

Your aunt? What aunt? You never heard of her before. You only glanced at your mother who couldn’t even lift her head. Is this what they’ve been hiding from you?

“You were young when it happened,” your grandma explained. “But she was a victim of them too, they took her away from us —”

“Ma that’s not true!” your mother shouted. “She died because she drowned, merpeople don’t exist and stop with all of these delusions!”

Then she turned to you. “Tomorrow, we’re leaving this island, I want you to pack your things tonight. No more going to the ocean, okay? You understand?”

You saw how your mother is full of worry. You felt a hint of guilt as you stared at your mother’s eyes. You could only nod. “Yes ma.”

You watched as your mother walked away from the scene. Your grandmother only shakes her head as she exits towards the kitchen. You only stood there dumbfounded until Aunt Cora tapped your shoulder, lightly patting it to comfort you.

It was Aunt Cora who told you about your aunt, your mother’s younger sister. She loves the ocean, goes to it daily and would return safely.

The merpeople were nothing but a myth but because of her, the people in the island started to believe in them — but in a dark light.

One day, they found her body on the shore. Lifeless, pale, and wrinkled. As if her soul got sucked out and was left nothing but a hollow body. Your grandmother wailed at the loss of her daughter, cursing the ocean and the merpeople because of the accident. She believes that they took her away, but your mother was a skeptic, she thinks that her sister died because she drowned.

But that also became the reason why she became overprotective of you, she doesn’t want you to die in the same way your aunt did. That’s why she left the island.

“What about you Aunt,” you asked. “Do you think they exist?”

Aunt Cora became quiet for a while, “I saw you talked to a merman one time. And just like you, I did fall for a merman back in my youth.”

Your jaw dropped because of her story. She only laughed it off as she glanced at the window. The ocean tonight is still peaceful. “But I stopped, knowing that we’re too different worlds and he started showing hints that he wants to take me,” she explained. “I told you, they’re so beautiful that you wouldn’t see that they’re dangerous.”

You found yourself sleepless again that night.

A part of you wanted to believe what they said, but a part of you, a larger one, is still holding onto the moments you had with Renjun.

You traced the bracelet Renjun gave you. Is this truly a genuine affection of his? Or was he just luring you to your death? You can feel your heart beating abnormally. Tomorrow, you’ll leave this place and the memories you had here will be blurry just like it was back in your childhood.

But you wanted to tell Renjun goodbye. He’ll be waiting for you tomorrow by the rocks. It’ll hurt you to imagine him waiting there for you all day long. No. You couldn’t imagine it at all. It’ll hurt you too. You don’t want to leave this island with guilt and a heavy heart.

That’s why you found yourself outside. By the bay. It was much windier than the first time you went to the ocean. The waves were a bit loud, crashing against the sand. But you didn’t mind it. You only stared at it, hoping that Renjun would appear any moment.

And it was as if your wishes were answered, your eyes caught the attention of the figure that’s slowly swimming towards you.

“Renjun!” you shouted, walking further into the ocean.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, tone full of worry.

“I just…” you couldn’t help but feel tears falling. You felt yourself holding back. Renjun looks at you with worry. You can’t believe it. How can your grandmother paint them as murderers?

“I’m sorry Renjun,” you only said to him. “But, I am leaving tomorrow.”

“What?” he asked, disbelieved.

“I told you right that I’m not from here, I have to return to the city,” you explained. “But when time comes, I’ll come back here I promise you that. I want to return here.”

“Yn,” Renjun only said.

“I like you Renjun, you’re one of the best things that happened to me, and I am so happy that I met you,” you confessed, tears streaming down nonstop. You hate this, you hate how you have to be separated not only from Renjun but also from the ocean. You know that there’s so much for you to explore out there, but it has to be cut short by your mother.

“Yn,” Renjun wipes off the tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, I’m okay with it, I just — can we go out for a swim? One last time? Just like the first time we met.”

You could only nod. Thinking that this would probably be the last time you’ll go into the ocean, you could only agree to his wishes.

Just like the first time you ventured out into the ocean. You did nothing but to try to paint the view into your memory, you wanted to make sure to memorize everything. Your hands never left Renjun’s even holding it tighter than before. You wanted to be with him but just like what Aunt Cora said, you two are from two different worlds.

As soon as you two rose from the surface, you could only stare at Renjun who’s gleaming under the moonlight. Oh. He’s as ethereal just like when you first met him. He looks at you lovingly, hands brushing the stray hair off from your hair.

“I guess…this is goodbye,” you mumbled.

But Renjun didn’t say a word, he approached you until you’re an inch closer to each other.

He pulled you for a kiss, it was full of passion that you could only kiss him back. You felt his hands around your waist, pulling you further. It was intense but you wanted to savor every second of it.

You can feel yourself breathless, but you don’t want to break away from him. You wanted to feel Renjun’s lips as if tomorrow doesn’t exist. You found yourself drowning into Renjun. It drove you crazy that you felt yourself numbed from everything — not noticing the way your body hit back into the ocean.

Morning came in but it was far from the mornings of the people on the island.

It was dark, raindrops falling like fainted drizzle. The sun was hiding behind the gray clouds.

But that wasn’t the reason why that morning was different, it was because they were disturbed a loud wail of a woman.

“Yn, yn! Please! Not you, dear!” your mother screamed, tears running as she clung onto your pale, lifeless, and wrinkled body.

Aunt Cora ran in hurry to comfort her best friend, passing by your grandmother who stood there frozen, seeing himself in your mother’s position. She watched as Aunt Cora went to hug your mother who could only cry on your body. It’s so familiar that your grandma couldn’t do anything about it.

She only stared at the ocean. How it's painted grayish blue today and the currents are faster than usual. It’s large waves crashing angrily against the shore. She could only shake her head as she stepped away from the scene with pain on her heart.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct renjun fic #nct dream renjun #huang renjun #renjun fic

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dayslynthesix · 1 year ago

Text

Charles Leclerc x Button!Reader

(this one is just a little content just because i love summer break and i think i failed a little bit to show just how much lis and charlie are in love in the social!au)

Sicily, Italy.

The warming heat of the sun was everywhere. The towels were warming, the floor of the Azzura (the boat) was warming, and the breeze of the Mediterranean sea was also warming. The summer break started less the 48 hours ago and Lis and Charlie were already on board.

Lis has bought that boat last summer, it was the most terrifying thing she could ever do, at least, thats what her dad has told her, but every weekend she was driving around at 320kmh, so driving a boat was supposed to be easy. But Lis wasn't driving the boat, Charles was. Not at that moment, because tuesday middle morning he was laying down side by side with his girlfriend while she was reading one of her books - Normal People, by Sally Rooney was the chosen one for the trip.

They were together for almost two years, they keep it private and low, only his closest friends and her closest friends (Gia, Catherine and Lauren*) knew about it, and they were fine with that. Until, one day, a rumor was spread around the paddock, and everyone started to pay attention on them.

"Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is allegedly dating RedBull driver and Jenson Button's daughter, Elise Button."

But for him, Elise Button was just Lis, or Fleur de Lis, his girl, his partner, his other half, the only person who fully understand him.

Last summer they spent hidden in some Italy village, Moscazzano was the one, Lis' mom had a summer house there, and once she was a kid she was always there with her family. That summer Charles felt so much love by her family that his heart was overwhelmed with it. He never had the chance or the opportunity to meet Jenson properly, but those 3 weeks he spent there he learned from where most part of Lis personality came from; she was charming, had that amazing sense of humor, smile pretty easily once she feels comfortable, she likes to swim, to lay on the sun, to play volleybal with her friends, to watch Grey's Anatomy and House with her mom and to go take a walk with her dad every sunset.

This summer they spent most of it swimming in the blue sea, while Lis was making them friendship bracelets for the concert they were supposed to go, or writing some poem Charles would never be allowed to read or just laying side by side, holding hands and talking about everything and anything all at once.

Charles and Lis relationship was easy, they could talk or stay at silence, they could talk for hours or just check how each other was, they could just exist into each other space, Lis was as much part to Charles life as he was to her. They knew each other so deep that no one knew how they didn't ended up together sooner.

"Every time i read that Connell wasn't religious but he thought that God made Marianne for him something clicks inside of me." Lis started to say as she closed the now finished book, Charles just hummed to let her know that he was awake, and listening to her "Because I'm not very religious too, but God, life, the universe put you in my life and I think that was genuinely made for me. I love how our life is simple, and how easy it is to be with you, even though we're weren't supposed to be together."

"I think the fact that we drive for rival teams makes things even better, what do you say? We're enemies to lovers?"

"More like rivals to lovers, but just between us, I would let you win just to see you happy." Lis had that, she was just pure empathy, it didn't look like because she was a woman into a mans sport, but she cared, and she would do anything to make Charles happy, including letting him win in Monza, including let him drive her around, including telling him how much she loves him.

"That's not very RedBull of you, honey." he joked

"It's because deep down I'm sort of a Mercedes driver because of my dad." she was laughing freely.

And summer just freeze. In that moment summer felt eternal. Just Elise and Charles, laying on the sun, listening to each other, talking nonsense around the Mediterranean, joking about how Charles wasn't familiar with the sunscreen technology. They just disappeared on those 4 weeks. They went for morning swims, early breakfast, stopping in those small Italian villages, eating pasta and holding each other. They weren't thinking about the championship, fast cars, Ferrari or RedBull. It was just them.

Charles and Elise, enjoying the sweet company of each other.

And going to Taylor Swift concerts.

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, cbishop11*, scuderiaferrari and 765.154 others

elisebutton there are pieces of us booth under of every city light, thank you italy, you were amazing with us, grazie 🇮🇹

charles_leclerc you are my favorite place

jensonbutton look how adorable you are, already missing you ❤

laurencaspari i picture you (my best friend) with other girls (charles leclerc) and throw up on the street (actually i went drinking)

priyacaspari looking forward to see you guys racing in monza in 2 weeks 🤗

scuderiaferrari hey @redbullracing are you seeing this?

redbullracing hey, charles, could you please bring back our driver? thank you

maxverstappen1 hey, charles, could you please give back my emotional support friend? thanks

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, mickschumacher, redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and 976.642 others

elisebutton capture it, remember it. thank you so much @taylorswift, i had the time of my life last night, traded soooo many friendship bracelets and it felt amazing to be surrounded by these amazing people - to the girls who were next to us, thank you for making my night insanely beautiful, we're happy and not lonely. and thank you to my lover, my karma, the one that there's some invisible string tying you to me @charles_leclerc for singing all the songs with me, I'll save you a seat at every table

jesonbutton i just know that daniel and mick were with you, i just know

danielricciardo heidi is suffering from post taylor's concert sadness i think we should do it again, same time in a couple of months back in mexico?

schecoperez if you're going to mexico im coming too

charles_leclerc im karma and im your boyfriend

charlisewdc ELISE OMG IT WAS ME AND MY FRIENDS YOU WERE SO NICE WE LOVE YOU

ccaspari make the friendship bracelets take a moment and taste it you got no reason to be afraid I LOVE YOU LIS MISSED YOU SO MUCH THESE MONTHS

georgerussell63 carmen and i are officially tswift fans from now one, thank you for the invitation

maxverstappen1 wait, am i the only one who wasn't there?

landonorris LMAO i think you don't like solo racing after all

elisebutton i invited you, i invited everyone

authors note: after this small serie ends i fully intend to do another social media au with another driver, probably daniel ricciardo x volleyball!player

#Spotify #charles leclerc #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #jenson button #formula one social media au #f1 social media au #f1 #the eras tour #ferrari

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 years ago

Text

Exposed

Summary: Bond has to make a decision about someone he loves.

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Oh my dear lovelies, oh sweethearts. I AM SO SORRY for going dark.

As some of you may have read from my last announcement, things got a bit hectic when my mom was in the hospital. It was a scary and crazy experience, she basically became paralyzed from her chest down. I’m talking about an extremely active woman who was on her feet working 10-12 hour days to not being able to move at all.

We had to rush her to emerge and find out she had contracted some rare bacteria that affected her spine. Needless to say she was in the hospital for a month, and finally was discharged about three weeks ago and is now staying at my brothers. Which is great for her since he has a bungalow and makes it easier for her to move around as she’s learning to walk again. However, that does mean we have to travel a bit to visit her and take care of her when my brother and his family can’t.

Anyway ... long story short, too late. I am back, I am going to try to catch up on some of our lovely stories. I also have a special surprise for you guys, which I’ll upload sometime this week. I’m currently working on Crosshair’s section of the Gym Membership and then SOTF, the Reunion and Upside Down, and I’m also going to be working on a one-off request that I received. Keep your eyes peeled for those.

Thank you all for sticking around, for sending me love, and for checking up on me, you have all been super amazing and wonderful.

A special thanks to @firstofficerwiggles and @ulchabhangorm for being my beta readers. Love oo.

Italics - flashback

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, blindfolded, smoking, prisoners, cages, feelings of mistrust, bleeding, injury, I think that’s it, if I miss anything please let me know.

AO3 Link | DC Characters Master List | Main Master List

The blindfold covering Bond’s eyes finally started to slip down after hours of the corrosive material rubbing against his eyelids, but if this little irritant put him off from his mission, he shouldn’t’ve been able to call himself a double O.

It been more than three hours, closing on four, since he’d gotten into the first vehicle and the fabric was placed on his eyes. Since then, he’d been moved to two subsequent vehicles, each more uncomfortable then the one previous.

They were travelling across increasingly bumpier roads, from the cobble stones they started out on, to the rural roads he deduced they were currently on. With each bump he felt the rough material scrape across his skin, there was no doubt his eyelids would be rubbed raw by the end of the journey.

Despite the increasing discomfort, he focused his attention on what was happening around him.

As the car began to slow down, he expected a gentle stop, of course that was before his whole body shifted forward violently. He would’ve hit the seat in front of him, if he hadn’t engaged his core muscles doing his best to remain upright as the driver slammed on the brakes. He shifted himself back against the seat, as another vehicle slowly approached them.

The car that had been stifling since he’d been shifted into it, finally received a breath of fresh air, as he felt a rush of wind blow across his face and hair when the door flung open.

Someone grabbed his arm with force, shifting him forcibly from his seat. This wasn’t his first clandestine meeting he attended, yet every time they always decided to yank the blindfolded person from a vehicle; come to think of it, he was guilty of that as well. There was an inherent expectation that the one blindfolded wouldn’t fall, and would be able to follow the silent instructions.

Maybe just for fun, the next time he was going to fall to the ground just to throw them off, and chuckle at hearing them become all flustered.

There was an eerie silence that seemed to hang in the air as he got out of the car, it wasn’t necessarily threatening or dangerous per se, but a seemingly tense atmosphere between the two drivers themselves, maybe an affair of the heart, or simply rivals for one thing or other. He concluded he was being transferred to yet another vehicle, as his guide pushed him forward, hopefully this would be the last vehicle transfer before arriving at his destination.

His guide kicked his left foot, trying to push it up onto a ledge, he didn’t need much prodding as he stepped up doing his best to gain some form of balance, when he was shoved into the seat. There was no doubt it was an older truck, the cracked leather seats felt as though thousands of tiny pins were poking his butt as he shifted to find a somewhat comfortable spot.

It didn’t take long to get them on the road again, the further they drove on, the more he was able to determine their heading. The bumps in the road had started to appear less and less, instead it became increasingly dusty from what he could gather as he breathed in more dust from the air vents. The noise from the city vanished completely and replaced by the sound of trees rustling in the breeze and birds squawking from above. As far as he could tell, they hadn’t passed another vehicle in the past thirty minutes, which could only mean they were in an even more isolated area then they had been previously.

The truck shifted gears as it began to slow down, the driver turning ever so gently before he decided to slam on the brakes, lurching him forward once again. He was seriously thinking about talking to whoever taught these guys how to drive. He was trying to brace himself before hitting the dash, only to be pushed back this time into his seat by his guide’s forearm; he wasn’t sure but there was a high probability he would have a bruise on his chest later. At least he could say there was some concern about his safety, relatively speaking.

The relative peace that had surrounded him was now replaced by the sound of various footsteps rushing towards the truck, when the door flung open.

“Get out!” The voice demanded without any further explanation or care. Either from the person’s lack of English or simply they didn’t wish to expand more than the two words because of the unbearable heat beating down against them, the breeze that he had enjoyed was now a distant memory. It hadn’t been so bad in the truck as they drove on their way, but now that it was idle, the lack of breeze, the humidity, and the sun bearing down on them started to feel stifling.

Though he still couldn’t see much as he moved out of the truck, he was able to see something through the fabric covering his eyes, from the small opening provided by the shift of the blindfold. It was mostly outlines of objects, shapes that provided a hint as to what he was seeing against the bright sun and bluish-grey sky.

He took in a deep breath, there was a hint of salt in the air brushing against his tongue as he licked his lips; so they’d been travelling closer to the sea. Possibly the Pacific Ocean side as the air wasn’t as salty compared to the Atlantic. The thickness from the rustling of the trees was no mistake they were somewhere dense, either near the border of the forest, or just on the edges of an abandoned village.

The humidity surrounding him, simply reaffirmed his suspicions, it was thick and suffocating. They had driven closer to the coastline.

Someone grabbed his arm pushing him foward, he could hear sounds of people moving around him, out of his and his guide’s way. Not completely disappearing simply moving off to the side, as they whispered among themselves. He could feel eyes analyzing and scrutinizing his every move, waiting for an opportunity to strike, despite his hands still being restrained.

As he walked along, his foot bounced off the corner of a box he estimated as best he could from the sound and movement of what he hit. His theory was confirmed as his guide shoved him down onto the seat. He adjusted himself as best he could, as someone cut the zip-ties binding his hands, seconds after his wrists felt sweet relief, his blindfold was yanked off without any concern.

It took him a few seconds to adjust to the brightness, probably could’ve been worse if his blindfold hadn’t slipped, allowing his eyes to adjust even just a little.

“Bienvenido Señor Bond” the thick Spanish accent coming from the heavyset woman sitting in front of him. The structure in front of him, if he could call it that, provided enough shade for her and her table, leaving the rest of her people and Bond to experience the full heat of the sun. The air was filled with the smell of the cheap cigars she was smoking, the smell flowing over and encapsulating him, making him want to eliminate whoever invented those foul-smelling cheap cigars as he held back the bile that was rising.

He left off a light cough, doing his best to be his most charming self possible, “I’m grateful for the meeting Señora, it’s truly a pleasure to be in front of so much beauty ”

“A great pleasure as well, Señor Bond, I understand you are looking for information” she took a long drag from her cigar, the ashes flicking off in the breeze and creating more of the nasty smell.

Bond nodded “As a gratitude for giving me the opportunity for this meeting” he motioned to the man beside him who had been carrying his bag, the same man he met in the city before they started off on the long voyage to the middle of nowhere, he must have been in the vehicles with him each time he transferred or travelled ahead of him, “a small fee to show my appreciation for the inconvenience this has caused you.”

The man, loomed over them as he stepped closer, as tall and broad as he was, the man barely made a sound as he gently placed the bag in front of her.

She eyed Bond, not saying anything as she took an even longer drag of her cigar, she motioned to one of her subordinates to open the case revealing it full of money.

“American?” She asked as the smoke exhaled through her mouth and nose.

“Of course”

She took another puff “What is the information?”

“Several days ago, a man travelled through the area with a backpack”

“There are many men who travel through this area with backpacks, Señor”

“Of course, however, I believe he is a guest of your wonderful facilities, currently” he motioned towards the rundown prisons, well what appeared to be prisons. They were mere barriers out in the open, simply branches tied together with rope, to form cages to keep the unwanted contained.

She simply shrugged, “Perhaps, perhaps not.” She motioned with her cigar towards Bond, “Do you have a picture of this man?”

Without a word he pulled out a 4 x 6 picture of the man from his pocket. One of the requirements of meeting her was no technology was allowed. No cell phone. No laptop. No tablet. Nothing that could connect him to the outside world.

Despite the oddity, it didn’t really matter to him why she was being extremely cautious, all he cared about was the reason he was there. He passed the picture to her aide who was waiting to receive the image, she leaned over taking a long look at the picture, taking another drag nodding slowly in agreement.

“You are correct, Señor Bond, this man is indeed one of our guests of our, as you say, wonderful facilities.”

Bond couldn’t help smirk at this fool’s misfortune, frankly he could care less about the predicament he found himself in, “I hope he’s enjoying his stay then, what I’m more interested in, is the backpack this man had with him.”

She hummed as she took another drag, the smoke flaring out of her nostrils, “Was there something special in this backpack?” Her eyes narrowed as she took in the man sitting in front of her, “If there was something my men overlooked…” her eyes narrowing on two men who were standing off to the side, as her anger flared along with her nostrils towards her men, “I would be very disappointed.”

James knew better than to show his hand, after all it wasn’t anything that was obvious to the untrained eye, “Not in the least, the backpack is in fact mine. The man stole it from me, and I simply wish to reclaim it back.”

Another hum from the woman followed his statement, as she took a final drag of her cigar, putting it out on an overfilled ashtray.

“Why so much money to simply retrieve what was stolen?”

“There is a copy of a book that was given to me by my late wife, it was the last gift she gave me before she passed away; it means the world if I was able to get it back.”

She called over one of her men, whispering to him, careful to not let her conversation be overheard. Within seconds the man brought the dull beige backpack, still intact, at least from what Bond could tell.

“Would you mind if I confirm it’s contents, I would hate for anything to be missing or for the book to have been lost”

She motioned for him to stand, as her men surrounded Bond from all areas, their eyes watching his every move. He opened it fully, the clothes neatly stacked on top, a dog eared book of ‘How to Kill a Mockingbird’ sitting there, along with a toiletry bag, he opened it seeing a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and shaving cream.

“As you can see there is nothing special in this bag, except for the book. This was the book she left me before …” his hand caressed the book tenderly, before he zipped up the bag, looking as undisturbed as before, retaking his seat on the crate.

“It appears so” her voice was weary.

“Thank you for retrieving my belongings, I would like to compensate you of course, for your troubles.” He put his hands inside his pockets, pulling out two stacks of a hundred American dollars placing them on the table in front of her, “There’s about $20,000 here, as a personal thank you.”

“Señor Bond you are quite good at making friends” she smirked as she slowly picked up the bundles, “Ernesto will take you back to the village. If you ever need my services again, I am more than happy to help.”

“Señora” Bond bowed, giving her his whimsical smile, as he followed Ernesto back to the truck, he sat down the backpack in between his legs, as he was blindfolded once again for the long journey back.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The book lay beside Q’s laptop as it’s front pastedown was peeled back, leaving only the indent of a microchip in its wake.

“Q, is the information compromised or not?” Mallory was annoyed as the youngish technician appeared to be taking his time with providing answers that he desperately needed.

“Don’t worry” Bond intervened, “Q’s probably confirming for the third time before he gives us any answers. You know how annoyingly diligent he can be.”

Q focused his attention back on the computer screen doing his best to ignore the comments; however he knew no amount of rechecking would change the answer that laid before him. He leaned back after reading the information for the third time, “Only one identity was compromised”

“Why aren’t you more concerned!” Mallory’s patience was at an end.

“Because it was compromised two weeks ago”

Silence filled the room, as the weight of what was discovered sunk in; the identity of their undercover agent was already revealed, the chances they were still alive were remote if even possible.

Mallory leaned against the desk, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He’d prided himself on doing all he could for his agents, there would always be deaths in this field that was inevitable, but he always wanted to make sure they knew they weren’t alone. They had support, backup, as much as he was able to offer.

“Who was it?” Mallory mumbled out as his eyes closed tightly, trying his best to squeeze out the shame and guilt he felt. No one realized there'd been a breach, until it was too late, and then finding out who breached their network, how it was breached took even more time. He failed them, and nearly had others killed.

Q glanced from Mallory to Bond, a heaviness rested in his chest, the next words he was about to utter would change his friend’s life forever. He focused back on the computer, maybe he was wrong, maybe it was a different person with a similar name and same date of birth, who just happened to have taken over the same undercover name. After all he’s made mistakes before, this could just be one of those unfortunate blunders, it would be better to keep this between Mallory and himself, “Maybe we should …” Q was about to say ‘discuss this in private,’ when Bond cleared his throat.

“Q … say it” James wanted to be wrong, he wanted the name that popped into his head, the moment Q said an identity had been leaked, to be different from the name Q was getting ready to say.

“007 …”

“Q. Say. It.” James’ voice was tense, his eyes focused on Q’s, taking notice of every twitch, the number of blinks, even every bead of sweat on Q’s face, it all told him a story. Told him to expect the worse.

Q took the time to focus on Bond’s demeanour, there was no way around it. He wanted to know and no amount of coaxing or trying to pull the old ‘need to know’ routine would stop him. If he didn’t provide him with the information, he’d just break into his computer later and look for it himself, and the last thing Bond needed was a charge of treason. He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes trying to calm the unpleasant dreary sensation in his heart. He nibbled on his bottom lip, hoping the numbing sensation would make it easier to say what he needed to, “It’s J, 007.”

“When did J …”

“J was recalled to active duty a year ago, specifically for this assignment.”

James could feel his heart racing, his blood pumping faster, he could feel beads of sweat being to form and climbing its way down his spine.

The sun was breaking in through the window as James watched you sleep, he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face, as you scrunched your nose, trying to remove whatever irritated you, mumbling in your sleep. He’d been up for almost an hour, after he had the same nightmare yet again. He knew he should’ve woken you up, whenever he had the dream of your death, it was only you that could ease the pain in his heart; however this time just watching you sleep, peacefully, calmed his heart. It was a sense of peace and tranquility that filled him just lying there beside you. He did his best to memorize every millimetre of your face, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss a single freckle or blemish on your face. In that moment, as he lay beside you, he knew. Truthfully, he had known since the moment you walked into his life, but in that moment he knew he wasn’t going to run away from what he felt, he wasn’t going to tiptoe around the issue anymore. You were the one. You were the missing piece of his life. In that moment, he wanted to wake you up, and ask you to marry him.

He felt Mallory’s eyes on him pulling him back to the present, as M looked between Q and himself. He was trying to quell the coldness enveloping him completely, James’ fists clenched by his side as a thousand different scenarios ran through his head. This wasn’t the first time you were in a crunch, but at least then he was by your side.

You pressed into your side, praying and hoping to stop the bleeding as James provided cover. Things were looking bleak for the both of you, you were down to maybe five rounds, your extra magazine used and spent. Bond had taken one of your pursuers guns but even then, he was running low.

“Okay, I bought us a few minutes” he rushed out, controlling his breathing as best he could. His eyes glanced over doing his best to assess your situation. “What do you say? Ready to make a run for it?”

You could only chuckle and offer a weak smile as he grabbed your arm, but you knew the chances of both of you making it out were slim, especially with your wound that didn’t want to close. The bullet was still in there, and pressing against your ribs. You grabbed his shirt with all the strength you had left, pulling him towards you, kissing him deeply one last time.

James was shocked at first but didn’t hesitate as he deepened the kiss, you didn’t have to tell him, he already knew what you were thinking. This was your goodbye kiss, you were going to tell him to run and to leave you there to cover his escape; but there was no way he was going to do that, his hand shifted from the side of your face, he slowly flexed his wrist, popping out the the tiny dart Q had mounted into his watch before the mission, and pressed it against your neck.

As you felt the prick in your neck, you pulled back and pressed your hand against your neck, “Wha… wha… whhh…”

James watched as your eyes slowly closed and your head fell against his shoulder, “Sorry love” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Can’t lose you.” He picked you up, and carried you to the extraction point, doing his best to stay ahead of the assailants.

Now wasn’t the time to panic, he needed as much information as he could gather, “Is it possible to contact J? Confirm in some way that J’s still alive?”

“J’s locator is no longer active. Even the communicator I gave is turned off. All the designated escape rendezvous arranged previously haven’t been used. There is one possibility, give me a minute, I’ll check …” Q’s words trailed off into nothingness as he focused his attention back on his computer.

Mallory stood from his position, it was not the time to be wallowing in self-deprecation. 007 looked as though someone punched him in the gut, or ripped out his heart. Not to mention, there was the possibility of an agent out there on their own for the past two weeks, that could very well need his help.

“You know this … J … personally?” Mallory asked keeping his voice low, as he subtly moved 007 away from Q allowing the genius to do his job.

“More or less” Bond responded, although he heard his voice answer Mallory, it didn’t feel like it was him that was actually talking.

“Meaning?”

“She’s my fiancé …” Mallory looked shocked for a second, before he was able to control his features once again; Bond didn’t draw attention to it, nor did he appear to really be paying attention to what he was saying at that moment.

James looked around the room, making sure everything was perfect. The candles were lit, your favourite meal was on the dining room table, along with your favourite flowers. He was wearing the navy blue suit you loved, it was the one he wore when you first met, you always told him that image always lived in your memory. He felt for the ring box in his breast pocket. The nerves building as the thought of what he was about to do started to sink in. He always swore he’d never get involved with anyone again after Vespa, but you slowly broke down his walls, and pushed your way into his heart, and before he knew it here he was getting ready to propose to you. Now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

Something pulled James back from where his mind went, maybe it was the fact Q had stopped typing, or just having faith that J’d be okay, and there was no need to be lost in what-ifs. He cleared his throat, straightening and adjusting his tie, “Former. My former fiancé from years past.”

You stood on the street, as the rain pelted down soaking your and James’ clothes straight through. Your tears were welling up as your throat ached from the fight the both of you just had, James was doing his best to hold it together, seeing how much in pain you were from something he did.

“I’m sorry! But you know this job … this life …”

Your fingers clenched around your engagement ring, “You promised me we would leave. We would both walk away from this job, from everything!”

James ran his hands over his face, “You know how difficult it can be …”

“Oh shut up! You claim to love me, you claim to I’m the one you want to be with, but if that was true you wouldn’t hesitate. Just admit James, you simply don’t want to be with me!”

“How can you say that? I’m here fighting to be with you!”

“Then leave! Leave with me!”

“You know I can’t. Not right now.”

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll lose me”

James closed the distance between the two of you, cupping your face in his hands, “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

You didn’t want to walk away, not from him; but if he wasn’t ready to make the commitment you weren’t sure you could wait around until he was ready. You had already waited five years just to be with him, and now just when you thought everything was finally coming together, it was all falling apart.

Your hand slowly stroke his cheek, you brushed your lips against his pulling him closer. He didn’t wait or hesitate, he reciprocated making sure the kiss was as passionate and intimate, James didn’t want to think this was the final kiss he could ever give you.

You pulled away, taking his hands in yours, you pulled off the ring and placed it in his hand. “I can’t do this when you’re not ready. I’m sorry.”

That was all you said as you left him standing there, James just watched you walk away, not sure of how to fix this.

Mallory didn’t say much, simply nodding his head. He knew the affairs of the heart all to well, he wasn’t going to pry into Bond’s past no matter how sorely he was tempted, “Are you able to handle this?”

James turned his head and locked eyes with Mallory, “Are you?”

“Very well, 007.”

Both regained their focus and steadied their nerves, Q looked up as he felt their gazes on him, he adjusted his glasses as he reviewed the information, “I triple checked all morgues, hospitals, law enforcement announcements, even underworld bounties, and I can neither confirm nor deny J’s alive … or dead.”

“Pardon me?” Mallory stated as his hand hitched on his waist, his anger needing an outlet. Not only had they been breached, but it appears it was a targeted breach against one particular agent that didn’t seem to have raised any red flags in their assignment.

Q adjusted his glasses, not bothering to look at the very annoyed and confused expressions that no doubt rested on both of their faces, “If J were dead there would be a report of either an unidentified body, J’s undercover name or J’s real name, and if that wasn’t going to happen, then there would be a police report about a body found or a … piece found. However there’s nothing. There’s still a pretty large bounty on J, 750,000 euros. Which tells me two things, one - J escaped before the identity was revealed. Now how J knew the cover was blown, I couldn’t possibly guess. However, that brings me to number two, as of right now J’s escaped the clutches of whoever put the bounty. Otherwise, it would’ve been removed, not to mention there would be some form of notice on the dark web.”

“Okay that means J’s likely alive, but you said you weren’t sure about J’s death?”

“Well they could have found J and kept the bounty up to keep us thinking J’s alive when that isn’t the case. They could also be torturing J for information …”

Bond held up his hand, “Okay we get.”

“If J’s captured, then there’s nothing we can do.”

The air in the room went frigid, as Bond slowly turned his head to look at Mallory, “There’s always something we can do” his voice was terse as he addressed Mallory.

“I’m sorry 007, but you know the rules better than anyone. Captured and you’re on your own; MI6 will disavow all knowledge regarding your existence and activity. If J’s caught, there’s simply nothing I can do.”

The tension between the two seasoned men started to grow, one due to the power and position he held, limiting his ability to help an agent in need, the second due to his own feelings and sense of duty to the one who had held his heart far longer than anyone else since Vespa.

Q held up his hand, “Before you two get into a testosterone filled match to decide which of you is bigger, I found something”

“Surprised you didn’t just wait till after” Bond smirked, appreciating the fact he could always tease Q no matter what the situation called for.

“I was tempted, but this is more pressing. I found a … as best I can describe it, some sort of distress code, on a back channel that hasn’t been used for a while.”

“What does it say?” Mallory was beginning to have doubts about this agent; first, why was only J’s identity that was revealed? Secondly, how did J survive?

“Need extraction. No response in two weeks. Will go dark. Heima. J out.”

“When was this posted?” James hand clenched by his side, something wasn’t right. Heima referred to their home they were planning on building in Milford Sound, the remotest area of New Zealand.

“Sixteen days ago”

“J already went dark.”

“Question” Mallory couldn’t hold his tongue anymore, “If she was able to escape why didn’t she come back in? Why wait to get an extraction? Why wait to hear back? And why was J’s identity the only one that was leaked?”

Bond turned to look at Mallory, “Are you questioning J’s loyalty?”

“It does raise some concerns” Q offered reluctantly.

“I know J!”

“It bears some consideration, 007” Bond didn’t need to hear this anymore, he grabbed the equipment Q had laid out for his next mission; ignoring Q’s comment.

“Where do you think you’re going, 007?” Mallory was about to stop him but thought better of it.

“Heima” was all James said as he walked out.

Mallory looked at Q waiting for an answer, he simply shrugged, adjusting his glasses, “Did you expect anything less? I mean …” Q motioned with his hand to the door Bond exited, “Really?”

Mallory smirked, running his hand down his face, “Let me know when he finds J.”

AO3 Link | DC Characters Master List | Main Master List

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sequinsmile-x · 7 months ago

Text

Battlement

She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely.

AKA Emily changes her mind about having visitors on the day she gives birth and Aaron faces the disappointed crowd for her.

-x-

Hi friends,

Not really sure where this one came from, but here is some soft hotchniss for you to start your week with <3

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of labour (non-descriptive), hospitalisation

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was the happiest she’d ever been.

She was the most exhausted and out of sorts she’d ever been too, but the tiny baby curled up against her chest was worth it all.

Issac Hotchner was less than four hours old and was already the centre of her, Aaron and Jack’s world. Jack had been obsessed with him when he came to visit just an hour ago, tears shining in his eyes as he held his little brother for the first time. It had been a quick visit, one Jessica had stayed out in the waiting room for, but Emily knew it would end up being one of her favourite memories.

She winces as she shifts in the bed, the lower half of her body sore in a way she didn’t know was possible, but she smiles softly when she spots her husband jump into action out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Aaron asks, his own exhaustion clear as he sits on the edge of her bed.

“I’m fine, honey,” she assures him, “I had a baby a few hours ago. I’m going to be sore,” she looks down at the sleeping baby in her arms, “I feel weirdly more anxious when he’s asleep,” she admits, “At least when he’s awake I can try shoving my boob in his mouth.”

“Well that has always been my favourite thing to do when I’m awake,” he quips and she glares at him, failing to suppress a smile as she shakes her head. He smiles and shifts even closer to her, his arm hooked around her shoulders, “You’re already an amazing mom, Em. That’s been true for a long time.”

There’s a gentle knock on the door before it opens, and the midwife, Jen, who’d been looking after them since yesterday pops her head around the door, “How is everyone doing in here?”

“We’re good,” Emily says, looking down at her son, “I think he’s eaten a little since you last came in. It’s hard to tell.”

Jen smiles as she steps into the room, “That’s normal, their stomachs are tiny at this stage,” she says, her smile getting wider as she gets closer, looking at Issac content and asleep in Emily’s arms, “And he seems happy enough,” she looks back up at Emily, “You’re doing a great job.”

It feels ridiculous how happy the praise from a woman who had been a stranger just 48 hours ago makes her feel, but it swells in her chest, her cheeks warm with it as she looks at Aaron.

“See,” he says, leaning in and kissing her temple, “I told you. You’re doing great.”

He rarely compared the two women he’d been lucky enough to be married to, who he’d been lucky enough to be loved by and to love in return, but he couldn’t help but think of Haley the last few hours. Emily’s insecurity around how she was doing as a new mom was familiar, an echo of another life that felt so far away yet right here at the same time. He’d tried to fix it for Haley back then, a new parent himself, desperately trying to prove he wasn’t his own father, instead of just doing what she needed. It had led to disagreements he winced at when he looked back on them, made him want to shout at his past self and tell him to just shut up and ask what his wife wanted instead of trying to guess. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes this time. He was going to let Emily lead and only push when he knew she needed him to.

Emily’s smile shakes as she nods and briefly leans into his kiss before adjusting her hold on Issac as she turns back to Jen, “Do you need to take him for another test?”

“No,” Jen says, “He’s all yours for now. I did come to say there’s a rather sizeable welcome party in the waiting room for Issac. Do you want me to let them come through?”

Emily’s smile slips from her face, anxiety she didn’t understand washing over her, the waves of it so strong it pulls her under, making it difficult to breathe. She felt torn open in every possible way. Her labour had been long, pushing her to her limits as seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days. Eventually, after she’d burst into tears when he told her only 30 minutes had passed since she’d last asked, Aaron had stopped telling her the time. He’d simply told her she was doing great, something that hadn’t felt true at the time, and provided whatever physical and emotional support she needed.

The relief she’d felt when she felt her son slip into the world, his cries filling the room only a second later, was unlike else she’d ever experienced. The second he’d been laid on her chest she was overcome with love for him. It spilled out of her onto her cheeks, burning tracks against her skin she was sure would never fade, as she laid a shaky hand on his back. Her trembling breath skipping across Aaron’s face as he kissed her forehead, his empathic love pressed against her skin as he looked back and forth between her and their son, his hand resting over hers on the newborn’s back.

She wants to share Issac with the world. To show him off and feel pride when people tell her how beautiful he is, but she isn’t sure she’s ready, her every nerve scraped raw, her normal defences torn down piece by piece until it was as if they’d never been there in the first place. She blows out a shaky breath and holds Issac impossibly closer, her hand firmer on his back as if someone was going to snatch him from her. Steal him away along with the sanctuary she’d found with him and Aaron in the last few hours, the relative peace she would have once thought impossible in a hospital room.

“I…” she trails off, unsure what to say, unsure how to feel and she’s never been more in love with Aaron than she is when he wraps his arm around her shoulder as he talks to Jen.

“Can we just have a couple of minutes?” He asks, and Jen nods, nothing but understanding in her smile, and he’s sure this is something she’s seen countless times.

“Of course,” she replies, unfazed, and she leaves the room quietly, letting the three of them return to the bubble they’d been in.

Aaron turns just enough so he can look at Emily properly, “Em, sweetheart, what do you want to do?”

She sniffs and shrugs, her lips pressed together as she tries, and fails, to stop them from trembling, “I don’t know,” she says, her eyes shining as she looks up at him, “I told them they could come. We agreed they could come after Jack did but…”

“You don’t know if you’re ready yet,” he finishes for her, wordlessly reaching out and wiping tears from her cheeks, his touch soft and reassuring, his love pressing from his skin to hers.

She nods, “I just…I can’t stop crying. And I’m so tired. And so sore,” she looks down at Issac, “And he’ll only latch on if we do skin to skin so I’m practically naked and I just feel so…exposed.”

He knows her well enough to know that she was as worried about how emotional she was as much as anything else. She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely. It was a kind of trust that had to be earned, something she wouldn’t give away to just anyone, and it was nothing short of a privilege to be the person she trusted the most. The person she let see her like this - as defenceless as he’d ever known her to be.

He squeezes her thigh and smiles encouragingly when she looks up at him, and he reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, not missing how she leans into the touch as if his touch and the weight of their son on her chest were the only thing keeping her going. He tells himself right then that he’d be her defences until she had her own again.

“Do you want me to send them away?” He asks, and her eyes go wide, her lips pressed together as she briefly shakes her head, ready to say it was fine, that she’d be okay, but he stops her, “Sweetheart, I mean it. I don’t care that they came all the way here, I don’t care that they might be pissed at me. Right now, I only care about you and Issac,” he assures her, his thumb tracing back and forth on her jaw, “Do you want me to send them away?”

The repetition of his question eases the guilt that had started to build in her chest, his words as gentle as the swirling motion he was drawing on her skin. It pulls a nod out of her, a confirmation she hadn’t known she was going to give until she’d given it.

“Yes,” she says, turning her head to kiss his palm, hoping beyond anything that it would say everything she couldn’t find the words for, “Yes please.”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamping against hers and then her forehead before he leans in to kiss Issac, “I’ll be right back,” he says as he stands up, “You two wait there.”

Emily scoffs, shaking her head lovingly at her husband, “As if I could get up right now without any help.”

He turns as he reaches the door and winks at her, smiling when she sticks out her tongue, “I’ll be right back.”

He takes a moment when he steps out of the room. Stands in the hall and takes in a breath, slipping on the Hotch mask he knows he needs for the next few minutes, leaving Aaron the husband, the father, in the room with his wife and newborn. He smiles at Jen as he walks past the nurse's station and towards the waiting room.

Everyone stands up all at once when they see him, excited chatter and questions overlapping each other in a way he knows would have overwhelmed his wife, making him even more relieved Emily had made the right decision. That she’d put herself first for once.

“Can I hold him?”

“How is she?”

“The picture you sent of the boys together was so cute.”

He smiles, his hands clasped in front of him as he waits for them to stop, his eyes flicking from their faces to the ‘It’s a Boy’ balloons Penelope was holding.

“We really appreciate you coming,” he says, clearing his throat, “But Emily isn’t feeling up to visitors right now.”

A mix of confusion and disappointment dances across their faces, eyebrows furrowing as the anticipation he’d walked in on fades away.

“She doesn’t want visitors?” Elizabeth asks, the first to break the silence as she crosses her arms over her chest, “She’s just decided this now?”

He nods, “She has. She was in labour a long time, and it’s going to take her a couple of days to feel up to seeing people,” he says, his jaw set tight in a way that he hopes makes clear this isn’t up for discussion, “I’m sorry you came all the way out here, but it might be best until you wait until we’re home.”

Penelope frowns, “But we brought balloons.”

In any other circumstance, he’s sure it would have made him laugh. Her seriousness mixed in with such a ludicrous statement, but he swallows it back, not wanting to undermine what he was trying to do for his wife.

“I can take them to her,” he offers, “And anything else you’ve brought. But no visitors.”

“Not even for a couple of minutes?” Derek asks and Aaron shakes his head, grateful when the other man relents, clearly having just chosen to push the boundaries only a little.

“Well, can you at least bring the baby out here?” Elizabeth asks, “I’d like to meet my grandson.”

“No,” he says, raising his eyebrow at her, the closest he had ever come to challenging her, keen to keep his promise to his wife to not argue with her mother on today of all days, “I am not taking my son, who is only a few hours old, away from his mother.”

She blows out a breath and nods, “Is she okay at least? This isn’t like Emily.”

“Well,” he says, his smile turning soft as he reaches out for his mother-in-law and squeezes her arm, “She’s never had a baby before, but she’s okay.”

JJ steps forward, an understanding smile on her face as she puts herself between him and the rest of them, “Why don’t we all go get a drink? Wet the baby’s head,” she turns to Aaron, “And then when you’re home and ready we’ll come armed with enough casseroles to fill your freezer and excited to meet him.”

“That would be great,” he says, smiling gratefully at her, something she shakes her head at, silently telling him it was fine. That she’d been there.

“Come on,” Dave says, smiling at Aaron as he gets everyone else's attention, “I’ll even buy the first round.”

“Fine,” Penelope says, pouting in a way he knows Emily would get a kick out of as she hands him the balloons, “Just give them both a kiss from me.”

“Of course,” he replies, “Thank you.”

He watches as they go, his face twisting into a smile as he hears Spencer explain where the term ‘wet the baby’s head’ originated from, and he sighs in relief when they disappear into the elevator. He heads back to Emily’s room immediately, not wanting to be away from her and Issac any longer than necessary. When he walks back in, balloons first, she chuckles, her smile wide as he sets them down in the corner.

“You look cute holding balloons,” she says, a spark in her smile that makes him laugh as he walks over to join them on the bed, “Were they okay?”

He kisses her and nods, “They were fine. In fact, I think the team may be about to take your mom to O’Shea’s to wet Issac’s head.”

She laughs, her head thrown back, none of the anxiety he’d seen earlier anywhere to be found, “Now that I would pay to see,” she rests her head on his shoulder, “Want to hold him for a bit?”

“Always.”

She eases Issac into Aaron’s arms, and she doesn’t quite understand the ache she feels when her arms are empty. She decides to wrap them around one of Aaron’s arms, holding him close as she looks at their son, the three of them sitting there in contented silence.

“Thank you,” she says eventually, resting her head on his shoulder, looking down at her baby who looked impossibly smaller in Aaron’s arms.

“For what?” Aaron asks, kissing the top of her head, catching the arch of her eyebrow as she tilts her head up to look at him.

“For loving me enough to piss off all of our friends,” she says, her lips curling into a smile, “And my mother.”

He smiles and holds Issac to his chest with one hand, using the other to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head further so he can kiss her. He pulls back just enough to speak, “You never have to thank me for loving you, Em,” he kisses her again, “It comes naturally. It would be like thanking me for breathing.”

She chuckles and shakes her head, tears pressing at the back of her eyes again, “You are ridiculous,” she says, kissing him, only pulling back when she hears Issac cry out, his face screwed up in a frown as they look down at him, “Daddy is ridiculous, Zaccy,” she says, running her knuckle over her son’s petal soft skin, her tumultuous emotions washing over her again, “But we love him anyway.”

He hears the crack in his wife’s voice and he passes the baby over to her, the soft smile of gratitude she gives him all the confirmation he needs that he’s done the right thing. He shifts them so he’s settled behind her on the bed, her back against his chest as he holds them both in embrace, his lips against her temple as he sighs contentedly.

“And I love you both,” he says, adjusting the tiny hat on Issac’s head, “So much.”

-x-

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snowy-vee · 7 months ago

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SNEAK-A-PEEK OF 'ALL MINE' CHAPTER 6

n/a: So, mental health has ups and downs, my summer job is taking every minute of my life AAAAAND tomorrow It's my birthday! So a little gift for anybody waiting for it <333

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

You sighed dropping the bags and suitcase handle once you two arrived at your vacation house in the west coast. The house was warm, the hot rays of sun kept it like that and you loved that despise hating the suffocating feeling you had since the car ride started, it was exasperating even with the window rolled all the way down, also the sad songs playing for hours inside was depressing but your fault for letting Ellie aux rights.

The girl was going to an unofficial breakup in a no-title relationship (mostly your fault too) and she was letting the people know with her frowned lip and her sad eyes making your mood drop, you were there ¿Wasn’t that enough to make her happy? Your whole presence should be a gift, you bringing her here should be a gift.

“For tonight you can sleep in the guest room but tomorrow we will have to share ¿Is that okay with you?” You asked looking at her, she was closing the door as she looked around the house, she has only been there once for one of your birthdays, some things were changed but it did not failed to amaze her. She used to forget that you were upper middle class, having more than one house was very normal to you, as if everyone had it.

“Uh… yeah”

“But leave your things in my room, leave mine too, please, I’m thirsty”

Ellie nodded grabbing you things on the floor, kind of struggling, and walking towards the hallway. There was no need to ask where your room was when she saw the white door with your name written in glitter stickers, she rolled her eyes, very you… The room was kind of childish, maybe because you barely were here so you didn’t bother on changing the decorations, it was very different the your room on the apartment.

Bed full of plushies, a lot of posters of pop singers or cartoons, stickers in the wardrobe doors, the curtains and sheets were also of animated characters. She let everything in a corner as she kept snooping through your things, she opened the wardrobe, it was almost empty beside two dresses that she was sure wouldn’t fit on you anymore, she went to the desk, sitting on the chair as she opened the drawers, full of colourful papers, some hair ties, little toys,etc.

“No way” she said grabbing a rainbow bracelet with her name in it, putting a smile in her face, she remember when you made them over the summer vacations. Your family stayed here until it ended and none of you had phones, so you use to grab your mom’s and call Joel to talk with her, it was the last days and you were excited telling Ellie that you had an amazing friendship gift for her.

She had one with your name and you the other with hers, so none of you would forget about the other; Sadly, after one week you stopped wearing yours, maybe because of your new crew. She saved it and closed the drawer, her eyes looking at the pictures in the pinboard, your parents, your siblings, your friends, of course she was there too but most of her picture were from ages ago,the last one when you two were fourteen.

Ellie wasn’t someone to overthink too much (yes, she was) but it was true that things changed in your friendship since you became “popular”, If only she stopped putting you in a pedestal she would realize how much from equal friends to the master and the squire the friendship went. Dina’s words, not Ellie’s.

She was always by your side and you kept her close but not that close, even if people knew that wherever you were, she was there to do everything for you.

“What are you doing?” You asked entering the room with two freezing cans of soda on your hands. “My mom called to see if we arrived, she’s excited to see you! I’m telling you, that woman loves you more than me”

Your mom didn’t called, she texted but Jesse did call with very good news of how upset Dina was with Ellie. “Nothing”

“Okay, let’s go do nothing by the pool”

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thewritingofspencerrose · 1 year ago

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Freefall Masterlist

Grid, Meet Lynn. Charles, Meet Diana.

f1 shhh, don't tell their trainers, but parts of the grid went on an adventure today to a local bakery, and from what we've heard, it was amazing!

user16 don't gatekeep, tell us what bakery!

user002 it looks like the one that is in my town! it's owned by a really kind woman named diana, her daughter is dating charles_leclerc !! it's called dianamaes_bakery

"Charles, why are we outside a bakery?" Max is the one to question, glancing around the quaint english street that's buzzing with people. "I'd have expected Lando or Lewis to take us site seeing, but you?"

"I have someone who I'd like you to meet," Is all Charles uses as an explanation, Lando and Logan smirking from off to the side, the friendship that had gone primarily unknown surprising some of the group around them, other than Charles and Carlos.

The bell rings from the front of the shop, but I can't even take the moment to glance up with Mrs.Kline talking my ear off about how exciting she finds the car races that have come to town. It's when I finally get her order boxed up and in her hands that I glance up, a bright smile taking over my face upon seeing what is almost the entire Formula One grid, Charles approaching the register as Mrs.Kline leaves.

"Mon amor," He smiles, taking my hands and pulling me around the counter.

Oh, he's really putting on a show.

"Hey Charlie," I smile right back, getting on my toes to peck him on the lips, letting him pull me into his arms.

"Charles, do you have something you'd like to share with the class?" George Russell questions, prompting Charles and I to pull away, his arm staying around my waist.

His eyes meet mine, silently asking if I'm prepared for what he's about to do, but after kissing in front of all of them, we can't just leave it at that, so I nod.

"Boys, this is Lynnleigh Earnhardt, my girlfriend for the last two months," He introduces, the boys eyes getting wide. "Lynn, these are the men from the grid I am closest to. Pierre Gasly, George Russell, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, and then you know Lando and Logan."

"Finally, took long enough for L3 to be reunited," Logan states, coming up and hugging me tightly, Lan doing the same. "We blame you mate."

"Yes, blame the student, not the F1 drivers that travel the world. If you were both in London more often..."

"Yeah yeah that's enough out of you, where's my favorite Hamlin woman?" Lando questions, looking around dramatically before making his way behind the counter to the kitchen.

"I'm going to assume you three knew each other prior to Lando being Lando?" Alex asks, picking up on the dynamic in front of him.

"Lando and I met during my summers here as a child, and Logan and I met at a race in the states that his parents brought him to when he was considering driving for a living," I explain, the fellow American at my side nodding along.

"Her dad is Dale Earnhardt, a NASCAR driver. Took an hour out of his day to chat with me about the different options for driving professionally and carting differences," Lo adds, messing with my hair.

"AND LOOK WHO I FOUND," Lando's loud voice yells, coming out of the back with his arm wrapped around my mom's shoulder as she blushes wildly.

"I'm sorry about him Diane, you know how he is," Lo apologizes, going up and hugging her.

"Is this your mother?" Charles whispers in my ear, his body having tensed. "She looks like you."

A compliment of the highest nature, I take his hand in mine, pulling him towards Mum and the boys.

"Mum, this is Charles, my boyfriend, and his friends Pierre, Carlos, Max, Alex, and George. "Charles and boys, this is my mum Diana Mae Hamlin."

"Oh I've heard so much about you boys between L3's different rants over the years," Mum acknowledges after shared hellos, "Although my daughter is the one who can just never stop talking about you," She adds, looking at Charles and making me want to shrink inside myself and away from his eyes that I can feel.

"Mum," I can't help the groan that I release, no matter how much it makes me sound like a child. "Would you stop?"

"Fine, fine," She relents, holding her hands in surrender. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you much more my love. Would you boys like a treat?"

"Oh, ma'am, we have have strict diets as professional -"

"Drivers, yes, yes, I know, I had a child with one, I know the diets you boys go on," Mum reminds, making me shake my head once more. I don't know why meeting everyone here felt like a good idea. "But you can certainly take a treat for after your race tomorrow," is her insistence, and it's only a moment later that all the men are nodding slowly, agreeing freely that yes, I suppose that won't be a problem.

"You're a lot like your mother, stubborn," Charles whispers in my ear, arms wrapped around my waist as we watch his coworkers actively defy their trainers.

"Hey now-"

"Beautiful, kind," He adds, chuckling. "You had to let me finish before you freaked out, mon amour."

I smile now, leaning up to kiss his cheek, "She is, isn't she?"

But he just shakes his head, and all of this makes me feel like I'm living in a dream.

"And the point of my words were, so are you."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #fake dating #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #earnhardt oc #formula 1 #freefall series

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fatigue-d · 2 months ago

Text

( idk the name of the fic )

I don't know if I should write the next of this fic , Is chapter 1 good enough to write it ?

Mark was five years old when he woke up crying in his mother's bed, a burning sensation from his wrist to his left shoulder, far from uncomfortable, akin to medieval torture. He'd been taught that water extinguishes flames, so he ran with all his meager strength to the bathtub to soothe the ache, but it had no impact other than to make him shiver in the bathroom. He tried to call his father for help, but he was away on business, as was his mother, who had promised to return from her walk with the dog two hours ago.

He had no choice but to endure this ordeal, his tear reserve already dry, and his face full of snot. He cursed the witch who had cast this spell on him, for no one but an evil sorceress could have made him suffer this pain, as he had seen in the cartoon on TV. He wondered, however, if he'd made a mistake; every child like him who'd been punished by a witch had made a mistake. He hadn't eaten too much candy like Hanzel and Gretel, or trusted strangers like Snow White, perhaps because he'd forgotten to feed the dog! His mother had already scolded him several times for this. So he promised himself, in the solitude of his living room, to always look after Pluto, his Australian shepherd, like his brother. He'd make Pluto play with him every day, and in time, he'd even teach him English - if he could do that, so could Pluto.

His mother finally returned after 30 minutes of pure torment, Pluto at her heels, the dog immediately licking Mark's tears under the young woman's appalled gaze. Breathless from crying, the dark-haired boy grabbed his mother's skirt with his working hand, begging her to help him.

"Mom! My arm is burning!"

She took her child from her arms, drying her tears by whispering words to him. What kind of mother was she to let her son suffer like this! She kissed his forehead and checked his arm, where now stood a scrawl-like set of letters that together formed two words: Fernando Alonso.

The moment she touched the mark, the burning suddenly stopped, the sudden change making her poor son's head spin. She made him sit on her lap, ready at last to talk about what would be a very important subject in her son's life.

"It's all right, darling, you've finally found your soulmate. she explained in a soft, pleasant voice.

- Soul-mate... ?

Mark had heard that word somewhere before, when he watched TV shows with his mother, and people always referred to it, either positively or negatively. But no one had warned him that his soulmate was going to hurt him so badly, so Fernando must have really hated him to burn his whole arm.

- Yes, soul mate. When someone's born, they're linked with two people, a soulmate and an soul-opponent. The soulmate is someone who's made for you, often in love, like me and your father, but it can also be a friend or even a family member. And then there's the opponent soul, who's like your sworn enemy, you know Batman?

- Yes! He's so cool!

- If they had a soulmate and a soul-opponent, it would be Robin, because they complement each other perfectly, and the Joker, because they hate each other and will do anything to fight the other.

- Do you know your soul-mate? Mark asked, looking amazed at this new horizon.

- Yes, I do. He was a very bad person in my life, so try to stay as far away from him as possible.

- What about Fernando?! Is he my soul mate or my soul-opponent ?

- That's for you to decide. You'll understand as soon as you talk to him.

- Mom... Do people exist without a soul mate?

- Yes, there are. she says with a nostalgic smile. There aren't many, but they do exist. You mustn't insult them or hit them! Tell yourself that they, at least, can choose anyone, they don't have to follow any rules.

- I'd rather not have had a soul mate then! Fernando really hurt me!

- It's not his fault, he's only just been born, and it's incredible to have a soulmate, it's like being completely whole.

- And if Fernando dies! Mark exclaimed with a frightened look on his face, "If he doesn't have a Fernando to spend his days with, who will he have? Pluto? No! His mother prefers Pluto to him, she'll forget all about him!

- So you'll be looking for someone who doesn't have a soulmate or who has also lost his soulmate like you have, living with the person you're meant to is not synonymous with happiness, as I told you there are people without a soulmate who live their lives very well."

Mark remains a little skeptical about this explanation: if Fernando dies, he'll fall back on his soul-opponent, and even if they hate each other, they'll have to learn to coexist together. Besides, it's hard to hate him, as his father said, and he's always right.

One last question came to him as he stroked the mark on the back of his wrist, which was blood-red, whereas his mother's was golden. Perhaps it was because Fernando was a boy? Did it matter if he fell in love with Fernando, he'd never seen two boys kiss, nor two girls. He then looked for his mother, who had started cooking for the two of them, eager to learn more about what would surely dictate his life later on.

"Why is your mark golden and mine isn't? he asked plaintively, having always preferred yellow to red, even if they liked the harmony of these two colors when black was added to the equation.

- Because I've met my soul mate, the same thing will happen to you when you meet Fernando.

- Will it burn again? Mark asked, pouting. The last thing he wanted was to get burned again by Fernando, especially not when he met him.

- I don't know, I was born with my mark so I don't remember anything, but I felt a slight tingling when I met your father, it was nice. said his mother with a gentle smile, making her son taste the sauce and lick his lips.

- I hope he gets burnt too! At least he'll experience what I've experienced! Mark finally exclaimed, before running off to his room to his mother's laughter.

He grabbed his cuddly toy and gave it a long hug, trying to forget the torture he'd been through an hour ago. Cuddling cures everything, as his father said, and he's always right.

And what else? Should he learn Spanish?

Mark is eleven years old when a gentle tingling sensation in his lower back puts him to sleep. It feels like a caress and seems to relax all his muscles, which are tense from Mr. Johnson's incomprehensible history lesson. A beha smile appears on his lips, which makes his friend at the other end of the classroom laugh. He cherishes the gentle caresses until recess, when he is confronted by his friends about the nature of his cartoonish expressions.

"It's my new brand of soul that just arrived. he explains, to the surprised looks of his classmates.

He'd been waiting six years for his other mark, the person he'd love or hate for the rest of his life. And he'd learned so much more about the subject, here's a quick summary:

1. The color of the mark has no influence on whether the person is a soul-mate or a soul-contrary, red is not synonymous with bad, and blue or green is not synonymous with good.

2. People with a single mark exist, either because the other soul-mate has already died at birth, or because a single person combines the soul-mate and soul-opposite attributes; research is still in full swing on this question.

3. Never reveal the name of your soulmate to a stranger. It's very private and could get you into trouble.

4. Trying to find your soul-mate at all costs is pointless: it's totally random, and some people never meet their soul-mate.

5. A mark can take years to come, you have to be patient until the end, some people have their mark when they are adults and their soulmate is their child.

6. Marks can be on any part of the body, most often on the arm, but not always.

7. Having two male soulmates is weird (he learned it from his two best friends).

- Really?! Man... Eleven years difference with someone, I didn't know you liked kids that much. mocked his friend with a perverse expression, quickly followed by the rest of the group.

- No! Besides, I don't care about soul mates, I'd meet them sooner or later, so..." he said nonchalantly, hoping to hide his nervousness behind his i-don't-care air.

His friends took him at face value, and quickly changed the subject under Mark's unspoken entreaties. It was a good thing his friends weren't trying to get under his shirt, or he'd be in big trouble.

He spent the day with mild excitement, wondering what name had appeared on his back. He ran home despite the fact that he hated physical exertion, slamming his bedroom door and taking off his shirt with a deafening crash. His father would surely argue with him about it later, but his soul mate was more important.

He stood in front of his bedroom mirror, looking for the angle that would allow him to perfectly read the name on the small of his back. He managed to read a few letters: S , B , I , A , V , T , L.

And after several minutes in which he tried increasingly outlandish poses, he was finally able to read the name in full: Sebastian Vettel.

His body immediately froze; he hadn't imagined a name other than masculine, but seeing it in real life changed the whole picture... The name was far too high to be hidden by boxer shorts, but far too low not to be visible if his shirt was pulled up a little. He's ruined! Completely ruined! What will his friends think?

His anxious gaze fell on his wrist, nobody had ever paid attention to his arms, and he hadn't seen anyone trying to read what was written on them. If he can't hide Sebastian, he'll hide Fernando. Because even if there's the possibility that it's totally platonic, the looks of disgust he'll get won't be fictional.

Mark likes women, but he doesn't share his desire to go out with them, more out of laziness than real lack of attraction. He finds them beautiful, attractive and intelligent, but men... He likes them too, he definitely doesn't let his eyes wander in the locker room during gym class, but he's already seen attractive men and enjoyed looking at them. All this is a purely scientific, objective judgement, he's only got eyes, and knows how to recognize beauty.

Besides, German women have always been more his type, beautiful blondes with blue eyes have always caught his eye. Much more so than brunettes with golden eyes.

What's more, his father had advised him not to learn Spanish, and he's always right.

Don't forget , Mark's dad is always right. ☝️

#webbonso #f1 rpf fic #mark webber #fernando alonso #sebastian vettel #fanfic #i'm so fucking tired

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romanarose · 11 months ago

Note

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖

How are the couples in the Leather and Lace universe celebrating? (or are they celebrating at all???)

Sorry this is so late! I hope you had a great day! Forgive my typing my laptop took a shit on me on v day so Im typing on an unfamiliar one lol

Warms my heart people still care about this universe!!!!

I have Leather and Lace Valentine’s Day special from last year!

As for the whole gang, let’s see….

This will be a brief sneak peek into the future, as canonically the universe is at abouuuttt June/julyish? There’s some creative liberty there😂

Previous day there was no Lore, and I think everyone wants lore ♥️ and by the time next v day comes, there will be no Alice and Ben will be happy with Cam so, welcome to the LaL universe Cameron!!

Mentions of addiction bulimia abuse smut

Santi and Laci

All the cutesy. Santi knows Lacina is a lover of cheesy romance so last year it was dinner. However now they have a baby. Doesn’t mean romance is dead however! After their strain over the summer Santi refuses to let Laci feel less than, esp after giving birth to Leto.

Leto is a few months old, I think approaching 6 months, and Laci has just started back at work. When she comes home, Santi has the whole dinner set up with candles and lights. Laci feels bad when she has to pause dinner to feed Leto but Santi thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than his wife breastfeeding his son. His heart is so full and happy, he couldn’t imagine a better day, even as he burps the tiny baby.

Of course, Laci isn't going to forget him either. Laci buys him the first bouquet of flowers he's gotten outside of his mom and Fatima's deaths. And, ofc, bc it's them, they make love that night. Laci is tired but they do their fav none intercourse activity and do hand stuff while making out. It always feels intimate and close.

Frankie and Jana

Just because they've been together more or less 15 years, doesn't mean Jana isn't slacking on making sure Frankie, and year and a half clear despite the stress of two children, feels loved. He's so good to her, going above and beyond during her pregnancy, finishing her doctorate, and handling both a newborn and a 3 year old. Jana was not the type of woman to congratulate a man on doing basic parenting, but christ he was amazing. Both were still on maternity leave, little Max being maybe 2 months old? Ish? Frankie would be going back to work part time soon just to keep a schedule, but would largely be a stay at home dad. She knew it wasn't easy and wanted to make sure he was so, so loved. So, under the guise of feeding Max, Jana sneaks out of the room and gets working on breakfast.

"Hi mommy, are you making me pancakes?" A sleepy Rosie toddled out in her doc McStuffins PJ's"

"Lo siento mija, did I wake you?"

"No." Rosie shook her head. Quería saludar a Max pero estaba durmiendo."

"Ah, I see. Would you like to help me cook for daddy?"

Rosie excitedly said yes, and after little bit they brought Frankie breakfast in bed. His eyes woke with a start, still protective of Jana even though she was past the 6 weeks of a c-section recovery.

"Baby, what are you-" he started to stand but as instructed Rosie ran up and pinned him down. Rosie explained the food they made while Jana got a crying Max. When all four were settled into bed, they eat together, Frankie feeding Jana as she breastfed Max. And don't you worry, once Max and Rose were down for a nap, Frankie gave Jana her Valentines Day gift. about 6 or 7 of them.

Will and Lorelei

Lore and Will had no issues giving Chloe away for a few hours.

Make no mistake, they adored their daughter, Lore loving to watch Chloe learn knew things about the world around her and Will was so wonderful when he played with her. Chloe would never have to wonder her worth the way Lorelei and Will did, they'd protect her the best they could from what they and their friends had endured.

No they loved Chloe Sen. However, they were comfortable taking time off. Lorelei had given birth in late July, and had a speedy recovery, making a mile run two weeks postpartum. This was not because of her eating issues (okay maybe baby weight was a small factor but she was working on it, okay?) more importantly, she needed to be ready to help run the farm for harvest season. Mrs. Miller would be watching Chloe Sen tonight for a few hours while Will took Lore out to dinner just as she had over harvest.

Lorelei had never been somewhere so fancy. She was dressed up in a dress Will said was "fit to attend the Oscar's with James Dean" never mind Dean's Oscar win was posthumous, but the compliment felt nice. Lorelei loved the traditional schtick, even if she told him she didn't need anything, that having a family was enough. Will, of course, would never let that slide. He also bought her jewelry, and he was the first man who didn't fumble that bag, getting her a classy tennis bracelet that matched her silvery dress. Lorelei's red dress was not fitting right with her breastfeeding boobs, and once thing about Lorelei Yen Giang, she did not where pink.

Lorelei's gift surprised Will. Not that Lorelei couldn't be sweet or tender; Lorelei always showed Will her love in her own love language, but gift giving was not one. She gives him a framed picture, something Laci had snapped at the beach day last summer. Lorelei wasn't showing in her swimsuit yet, Will had his shirt on. Despite the tension of those early months, Lorelei had forgotten how much she and Will still had fun. They were sitting on beach towels, Lorelei's head thrown back laughing, black hair cascading down. Will was grinning ear to ear.

"I love it, Lore..." Will says, smiling brightly.

If Lorelei didn't have make up on, she'd be blushing.

"I love you, William. I know there were so many reservations from my side early on but all these months later, you prove me wrong every single day. You are exactly the kind of man I saw you as, no tricks, no games."

Will kissed her tenderly. "And you, princess, blow me away every single day."

There was no sex that night, Chloe not having fallen asleep for her grandma nor a few hours after, keeping them both up. But Lorelei feel asleep with her loving boyfriends arms around her, and that was enough.

Benny and Cameron.

It was all so new. Being the off season, Ben and Cam were somewhere in Arizona, fucking the entire day away in Cam's van. Ben was still worried about the other ball dropping, for something in Cam to switch. For him to leave again or for him to hurt him like Alice. Things weren't easy peasy; Ben was still relapsing on bulimia and drinking, but the recovery periods were getting longer and Cam was always quick to assure him relapse is a normal part of recovery. Frankie quit coke cold turkey, but that's because he had a scare. it'd take Ben some time, but Cam would be there every step.

As soon as Cam woke after a long nap to Ben in the kitchenette, listening to him clanging around trying to cook he knew Ben was having a bad day. When he opened the curtain to find the living space/kitchen a massive mess, with food everywhere in Ben's attempt at cooking and a table set up of half-made crafts, he knew it was Ben's ADHD. He was trying to get Ben to warm up to the idea of trying meds again, but once step at a time.

"Baby?" Cam called, and Ben wiped around, eyes wide as he began sputtering.

"I'm sorry! Im sorry I was trying to make breakfast and also this craft I saw on printers and also this other one then the bacon was burning and-"

"Baby, can I hold you?"

Ben blinked at him, looking nervous. He wasn't used to people asking if they could touch him. "Oh. Um... no I don't think so."

Cam smiled, happy Ben felt comfortable enough, trusted him enough to communicate. "Thank you for telling me. Benny, does this have something to do with Valentine's Day?"

He hesitated but admitted yes. "I love you so goddamn much Cam and we've been on the road so I haven't hardly been aware the month let alone the year... Then all of a sudden I wake up and its the 14th and you've been just... just the fucking best. I don't want you to feel like I don't appreciate you..."

Cameron listened until he was sure Ben was done. "Would it help if we just... pretended today was another day? I swear, just you being here..."

"No! Cam let me do something nice for you."

"Something nice for me," He started slowly. "Is you being nice to yourself. Listen, my birthday is coming up, if you really want to, not saying you have to, but if you really want to you can go all out that day. But what I really, really want..." He reached out his hands, which Ben took. "Is to eat this burnt bacon, tape this half-made craft to my wall, and then get back into bed with the love of me life that I thought I'd never get to hold again. What do you think."

Ben paused, allowing himself to absorb Cam's words. Cam din't want anything from him outside of his love, fidelity, and company. He didn't want ben's money, didn't want him to change or hide self, and although they certainly had fantastic sex, if Ben wasn't feeling it he could say no, but Cam usually picked up on it before hand.

"Okay, yeah, that sounds good..."

"Good." Cam smiled and reached behind Ben. "I like my bacon extra crispy."

*******

Happy v day!!!!

tagging a few peeps who still interact with the all universe

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missdictatorme @ivystoryweaver @pimosworld @miraclesabound @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @whatthefishh

#leather and lace #lal universe #leather and laci univere #lacuna dumas #Santiago garcia #triple frontier #Frankie morales #jana fernandez #will miller #Lorelei giang #ben miller #Cameron macdonald #triple frontier franfiction

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chasingcherriess · 2 years ago

Text

Let the light in.

Eddie roundtree x reader!

warnings: cigarettes, angst, alcohol, and drugs.

P.S. This fanfic was originally an oc, so if you see the name violet it’s meant to be y/n :)

Let the light in - Lana Del Rey Ft. Father John Misty.

Y/n had been sitting at the end of the bed, watching her best friend strum his fingers against the cords of his red Gibson. She spent hours studying his every move: how his nose would scrunch up every time she told a joke, how he would hug her tightly as if she was going to disappear from thin air. The brunette's eyes landed on hers, and noticed how her pupils would grow bigger every time they locked eyes. Eddie wasn't the type of guy to express himself, and that included not expressing himself to her. He grew up in a house where communication and emotions didn't mix together. Y/n always thought of it as "oil and water" - it just didn't work.

"Distracting you?" Y/n finally spoke, breaking the silence and staring into the brunette's eyes. She heard a chuckle escape his lips, and she couldn't help but smile at hearing it. The two spent their evenings like this; it was a normal thing for them. Just them. Until one night when eddie sneaked through the window into the girls room.

"Eddie! What are you doing here?!" She giggled a bit, whisper-yelling at the boy in her room. "If my parents find you - no, no, if my dad finds you - you will be next on the stove." Eddie laughed before hugging Y/n. "We need to talk," Y/n heard these terrifying words and looked at him a bit scared. "Did he find out?" "Was he going out with someone?" "Is he going to end our amazing bond?" Millions of thoughts swarmed her mind, but all those thoughts came to a halt. "Come with me, to California." The boy took her smaller hands into his. "I'm going to go with the band, just come with! It can't be terrible." Y/n couldn't believe what he was asking. This could be their new beginning, maybe? Y/n didn't think, nor hesitate. The girl had just nodded and hugged him tightly. "I'll go with you, I'll follow you anywhere." eddie felt himself flush at the girl's words as he placed a soft peck on her cheek. "We are leaving soon, on Thursday. We're leaving, starting a new life." Y/n couldn't help but smile to herself. The two turned at the footsteps that could be heard coming to Y/n room. "Okay, go! Go!" She giggled, pushing Eddie out the window.

Y/n mother came in with a hamper stuck to the side of her hip. "Hi sweetheart," the woman's voice spoke calmly as she set y/n hamper down. "Mom," y/n voice turned into a whisper. "Yes, honey?" Her mom had sat down on the bed, holding her daughter's hands in her own. "Do you like eddie?" Y/n eyes glued onto her mother, looking for an answer with just her facial expressions. "He's a good kid. He has a bright future ahead of him, honey." Y/n felt relief wash over herself as she nodded. "I want to go to California with Eddie." Y/n didn't have time to even process what she had spoken. "What? Why?" Y/n saw the color drain out of her mother's face. "Mom, I'm 18. I want to go live life! I want to be a singer. I won't get that here." Y/n words stayed soft. "I trust you, baby, but I need you to promise to call every day." Y/n nodded her head excitedly and jumped into her mom's arms. The two hugged each other tightly. "I love you, Mom." "I love you too, honey."

After spending what felt like hours with her mother, y/n lay in bed thinking about all the possibilities of her new life in California. She slowly drifted off to sleep, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness. The next morning came quickly, and Violet packed her most valuable belongings before walking down the stairs to see Eddie and the rest of his bandmates waiting in the van. Her favorite drummer, warren, took her bag and hid it away in the van. Eddie hugged y/n tightly and spun her around. "Let's do this thing," he said with a wide grin on his face as they both walked into the van.

The trip to LA was long and tiring, but also very exciting with the band. Y/n had lit her fifth cigarette, having spent hours reading and smoking by the window. Once they arrived in LA, Warren had arranged a place for them to stay, which wasn't the best but would do for now. Violet sighed upon hearing the lead singer speak. "Really, warren?". billy was an idiot in y/n eyes, and that's all she thought of him.

Months went by and it was tiring for sure. Billy’s girlfriend, Camilla, had been helping y/n with the band's preparations. The two worked day and night managing the band. Y/n grew tired of always managing the band and wanted to be part of something great, not just manage it. Billy never let her join, thinking it should be a "boy band".

Eventually, y/n got her way and joined the band as a background vocalist, occasionally even getting to be the lead singer. She was so happy to finally show her true artistry.

A couple of months had passed, and the band had taken off. Y/n was still crushing on the dreamy bassist, who was also her best friend.

"Birdie, come on, just tell me," Eddie begged on his knees in front of the girl. "Nope, you can't know!" Y/n laughed, watching the boy stand up. He placed his hands on her waist, but was sadly interrupted by Camilla's voice echoing through the house, "Anyone home?!" Eddie quickly backed away and called out, "We're up here, Camilla!" Y/n sat down on the bed in the corner, letting out a loud sigh, feeling her heart break into pieces. She always knew Eddie had pent-up feelings for Camilla, but it still hurt. Eddie had complained to her about what had happened between them. Y/n had taken it for a while because she was too scared to lose her best friend. However, she knew she deserved better, even if she was blinded by love.

The making of their new album was not easy either.

Daisy and Billy constantly fought, making every day exhausting for everyone around them. After finishing the album, they took a three-week break before the tour began. During the break, Y/n attended parties, often drunk or high. This was normal for her in the 70s, but being away from Eddie gave her peace of mind. Eddie, on the other hand, had not slept a single night worrying about Y/n. He didn't know where she was or how she was doing, and it was starting to get to him.

Finally, the three-week break was over, and everyone said their goodbyes before heading out on tour. Y/n had already bid farewell to Camillia and Julia with a smile. On the bus, she noticed Eddie looking at her in a way that made her heart break. Y/n couldn't handle it anymore. After everyone said their goodbyes, Eddie sat next to Y/n and gave her his classic tight-lipped smile. The two were quiet, and Karen noticed this more than anyone. Everyone was in their own world, but Karen always knew when something was going on, especially when it came to y/n.

Their first concert was great. Y/n was super nervous but also felt an excitement within her. Emotions were running wild as the band wrapped up the concert. Y/n walked towards the wings and felt someone's arms wrap around her waist. "We did great!" It was the bassist, her best friend. Y/n smiled and hugged Eddie back, but without thinking she had kissed him. It wasn't intense, just a quick smooch. Y/n didn't know what to do after that. She just nodded and smiled at the man before walking off with Karen to the tour bus for their after-parties, leaving the groupies to swarm Eddie. This was the routine at every concert: perform, party, and hit the road. Eddie played that kiss over and over in his mind. Maybe he did love her? Eddie couldn't keep his thoughts sane after the feeling of his best friends lips on his.

The girls had decided to go shopping while the boys stayed back on the bus. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do love Y/n," Eddie told Warren and Graham. Warren, still high from his daily dose, tried his best to respond. "If there's something going on, then go for it! Why wait? Besides, you don't want to do it too late, man. Y/n is tricky." Eddie nodded, listening, before Graham interrupted. "I mean, Warren's right. No girl kisses just because." Eddie thought for a moment. "Well, no, I mean, have you seen her? A bunch of guys swarm her all the fucking time, man! They are like insects wanting more." Eddie frowned and looked at Warren. "I mean, man, listen, Y/n is a beautiful woman. She's going to get stared down like that, but just because you love her isn't going to stop those guys. She doesn't know you love her." Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. "I'll tell her soon.” Warren shook his head, “whatever you say man.”

Chicago was the final stop, and y/n had made it to sound check on time, as she never missed it. However, as she approached the stage, she saw that Eddie had a black eye. Y/n’s lips formed a frown “Ed’s, are you alright?” She could tell that he wasn't okay. Eddie forced his smile before speaking “I’m alright birdie, thank you” Eddie placed a soft peck on her cheek before going back to shining his bass. Warren looked over at the bass player and frowned, and Eddie knew he needed to tell Y/n what was going on. Warren felt bad for y/n, he could tell that she was tearing herself apart over Eddie’s actions.

Since no one showed up for sound check, y/n asked Rod for permission to leave, and he excused her. She went to her room and stared at herself in the mirror, feeling overwhelmed. She felt like she was going crazy and without thinking, she ran to find Karen, she had no one else.

When y/n arrived at Karen's room, she knocked aggressively, needing her friend's comfort. Karen opened the door and took a second to see y/n face, without hesitation Karen had taken y/n into her arms, consoling her as she cried. Y/n sobbed out “it’s too much Karen. It’s too much for me, for my heart”. Karen held onto y/n until she was ready to let go, and then y/n had collected herself and spoke softly, “I won’t allow myself to suffer like this, ever again.”Karen was proud of y/n and hugged her tightly, “I believe in you y/n.” Karen placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

It was finally time for the show. This was it, the end. Y/n stepped onto the stage, tambourine in hand, and looked out at the crowd. She knew she had to give it her all. She performed like no other before her, wowing the audience. Even a certain bassist couldn't take his eyes off her. Daisy and y/n had sang a duet together, their voices ringing out as loud as they could. Daisy had started the intro for look at us now, but when billys part came on, he didn’t sing. He stayed silent. Billy ran off the stage, causing confusion, but the band continued on. It was the end. Y/n and the band she had grown to love took their last bow to the audience and walked off. Before y/n could leave this place forever, her home, she felt a hand grab her wrist. "Wait," Eddie said, pulling y/n close. "I have something to tell you, please." Y/n stayed quiet, puzzled. "What's the matter, Eddie?" His heart tugged a little hearing how easily his name slipped off her tongue. "I love you, y/n, more than anything. I know it's late, but please." Y/n stayed silent, shocked. These were the words she had begged to hear her whole life, but now that she heard them, nothing changed. Everything was the same. Eddie noticed her silence and felt himself get anxious. "Birdie, please, we can leave the band together and start our own thing. I just need you to trust me," Eddie pleaded again. He wasn't giving up. "Ed's... I," she didn't know how to form the sentence she needed to say, "I don't love you anymore." She said it. She finally said it. Relief washed over her, but she soon became overwhelmed with sadness. "Y/n, but this is how it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be us against the world. It was supposed to be like that from the beginning," Eddie felt his eyes water slightly. Eddie didn't want to be vulnerable, but he really loved this woman, and he hated that he was too late. "Exactly, Eddie. From the beginning, not from the end," she spoke coldly, the words striking through Eddie's heart. "Please, y/n, don't do this, please," he filled her ears up with pleads once again. He couldn't let her go like this. "Eddie, I like to love you, and I hate to hate you." Y/n eyes watered, tears threatening to fall. "Let's just put on some Beatles, light the candles, and start over," Eddie held y/n hands in his. He wanted to keep her around. Eddie didn't want to lose his favorite girl. Y/n kissed Eddie, knowing this would be the last time ever. Eddie didn't want this to end, but he had to accept that he couldn't control what happens. Y/n finally parted her lips from his. "Look at us," she whispered to him. "You and me, back at it again," Eddie whispered back, his tear-stained cheeks and red eyes staring into y/n swollen eyes and cheeks. "Goodbye, Eddie," y/n left him standing there. That same night, she left Chicago and went back home. Y/n left a piece of herself with Eddie, just as Eddie left a piece of himself with her.

This definitely wasn’t my best, but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! sending love 🍒

#eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones and the six #warren rojas #graham dunne #karen sirko #daisy jones spoilers #billy dunne #camila dunne #warren rojas x reader #billy dunne x reader #karen sirko x reader #graham dunne x reader #daisy jones x reader #camila dunne x reader #eddie x camila #billy x daisy #karen x graham #josh whitehouse

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biscuitblinkeu · 2 years ago

Text

The Finale - Part 1 [10]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2395

It’s the final chapter (b/c I need to end it all or I’ll go insane)! I hope this ending is satisfactory for you guys… but thank you for all your comments throughout my procrastination of this series, I pushed through thanks to you guys. I did have to end up splitting them in two bc it was way too long for me to finish tonight, tomorrow the next part comes out!

………………………………………………………………

“Do I want to…kiss your mom?” Rosé repeated slowly, a faint rouge-tinted blush rose to her ears. Of course she does, she always wants to, but in front of Nala? Your daughter, who’s going through your divorce? How would she feel knowing you’re not in love with Jaylyn and like her instead? This was complicated.

Before she could answer though, you're waving your hands around frantically and letting out hurried rambles. “That’s not what she meant! She just— Nala usually just says that when a person finds me likable? You know, it’s...”

“It’s really alright,” Rosé interrupts before addressing Nala. She smiles, “I do. She’s a great person.”

“Yeah, she is! Mommy is amazing!” Nala says before sneezing again. Rosé slides the tissue box over to her, receiving a grateful look from you and a thank you from the little girl.

You sink into the couch cushions, momentarily overwhelmed with that close call. You don’t know how to tell Nala you and Rosé are, as Nala understands how you and Jaylyn were, “together-together.”

For about half an hour, you watch the cartoon Nala had on the tv, scroll on your phone, and talk to them. Then you hear it: a prolonged gasp. A yawn. Someone is getting sleepy.

“Was that a yawn I heard?” You say slowly, inching closer to your daughter with tickle-monster hands. Nala is quick to shake her head and scoot back, “No! It was— it was Rosé!” Said woman looks up from her paper and stops drawing. Confused, she meets your eyes, you shrug.

“Rosé, what? Nala?”

“Rosé yawned first! Rosé infected me—” She whines.

Both of you turn to Rosè, and she catches on quickly. “Oh, yes. I yawned first. I suppose that it passed on to Nala.” Nala nods enthusiastically at her side. You let out a sigh as you lean your head back against the couch. “Okay, I guess you're free…this time.” They laugh at your melodramatics.

You close your eyes for a few moments and listen to their chatter about something random, not bothering to try and catch any of it. Your head snaps back up, and you frown at Rosé after looking at the time on your phone. “Rosé I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the time. It’s late… and I just realized you work tomorrow, don’t you? Aren’t you tired? I didn’t mean to keep you so long…”

She smiles softly at you and shakes her head. “Nonsense. I stayed this long because I chose too. So it’s alright, but I should probably head home now. This was fun.” She sits up on her legs. The paper she was sketching and coloring on was passed to Nala, who gasps. “Mommy look what Rosé drew for me!” In a hurry, she hops onto the couch next to you and shoves the paper into your hands, eager for you to look at it.

It was a scene that looked like it was from a ghibli movie. Different flowers sprouted from a hill, detailed and colored beautifully, and a pretty sky she colored and blended with blues and whites. She drew this all with color pencils too; that’s talent. You grinned at Rosé, “this is pretty good, you sure you don’t want to become an artist?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. When you gave Nala her picture back she dropped off the couch and ran over to Rosé, surprising both of you when she threw her arms around her. “Thank you! I love it!” Rosé hugged her gently, smiling warmly at the little girl, her heart so happy. “You’re welcome Nala.”

After Rosé gathers her stuff, you and Nala walk her to the door. “Why don’t you put your pj’s on Nala? I’ll be upstairs soon, okay?”

“Kayyy,” she drags out, and runs down the hallway and skirts around the corner, presumably to upstairs. You look towards Rosé and roll your eyes good naturedly. “I wonder where all that energy comes fro—” You pause, and tiny footsteps are running back down the hallway. Slightly out of breath Nala squeezes past you to the front of Rosé, “I forgot to say bye,” she heaves, and comically, you wait till she catches her breath. She grabs Rosé’s pants’ leg and looks up to her. “Bye Rosé! Come back soon okay?”

“I will, bye Nala.” And then your daughter is zooming back up the stairs, leaving you two laughing.

Through your laughs, you help her put her coat on, and once she’s all set you lean against the doorframe. “That was…”you begin; your daughter, unintentionally hilarious.

“Entertaining?” She suggests. You shrug. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

A comfortable silence falls upon you, the two of you content just taking in each other's presence. She takes a step towards you, and you pull her in for a hug. “I’ll see you in a few days,” she says against your hair. You hum against her shoulder, “Thanks for coming over.”

Pulling away, she speaks again. “If anything comes up, call me. I will be there for both of you.” Then, almost shyly, she kisses your lips and says goodbye.

You return to the living room, cleaning up any leftover crayons or colored pencils your daughter might have dropped on the floor before going up to her room. She’s already in her covers, wearing her pajamas. You notice that she already hung up the picture Rosé drew for her on the wall adjacent to her bed, and smiled.

“What do you think about Rosé, baby?” You ask, sitting down next to her after she scoots over and makes some room for you.

Nala looks up, thinking, her lips pursed like a duck. She reaches for a lock of your hair before she answers you, twirling your hair around her small fingers. “Rosé makes mommy smile lots so I like her,” she says, then visibly perks up and looks at the picture hanging on her wall. Her free hand thrusts forward and she points to it, giggling. “She is a good drawer and likes SpongeBob too!”

“Rosé makes mommy smile, so I like her.” It was such a simple sentence but it meant so much to you. You would never have someone around if Nala wasn’t comfortable with them, she comes first, so this made you happy. “Yeah? You make me smile a lot too you know, you’re my—”

“Sunshine!” She interrupts, looking at you expectantly. “Yup! And maybe Rosé will draw you some more pretty pictures in the future and you’ll have a whole wall of them.”

“Mhm…” Nala absentmindedly hums, slumping further into your side and no doubt becoming sleepy from the way you’re massaging her scalp. Her eyelids slip closed and she opens them moments later, each time the duration is longer. Her fingers loosen around the section of your hair she was playing with and her arms slipped to her side. “Sleepy?” You ask, chuckling under your breath when she shakes her head no.

“I think you are,” you whisper, and with cautious movements, you support her head as you slide off the bed, laying it on her pillows. You pull the blanket over her and kiss her forehead, once again making sure she’s tucked in before turning her lamp off.

You return to bed shortly after you check your email and do your hygiene routine, and just as you close your eyes you get a message from Rosé wishing you goodnight to which you respond to with a cute gif.

You fall asleep feeling excited and nervous for tomorrow.

***

Three days later, you and Rosé would meet up with the girls (only Jisoo, Lisa, and Jennie this time) and tell them about your relationship at a Thai restaurant. They were insistent for you all to get together so you thought you might as well break the news. Although everyone seemed to know already, much to your amusement.

“So who asked who first?” Jisoo prompts, sharing not so discreet looks with Jennie and Lisa who look awfully giddy. What are they acting like that for?

“I did.” Rosé answers, earning a groan from Lisa and a shout of excitement from Jennie. You smile, not super focused on the conversation because you and her hands are intertwined underneath the table, and she rubs calming circles on your skin.

“I won! I won! I told you!” Jennie practically shouts, her fist hitting the table as a wide smile showing her gums appears. Rosé scolds her, you’re all in a public place after all, and she’s attracting unwanted attention.

Lisa turns to you, almost pleading, “Is that right?” She asks, hoping that you don’t agree and it’s just a joke of Rosé’s.

You nod, recalling that day. “That’s true, she asked.”

Lisa sighs, dragging her hands down her face. Jennie taps her on the shoulder. “Pay up woman, you heard her. It’s fair and square.” Jennie seems to be getting a kick out of this.

Finally putting their reactions together, you come to the realization. “You guys made a bet on us?” You ask, amused at their antics.

“Yes, yes we did. And I won, so hand it over Lisa!” Jennie all but shoves her hand out, palm outstretched to the sky as she looks at her wife expectantly. Lisa rolls her eyes before pulling out a £50 banknote and slapping in Jennie’s hand. Jennie looks absolutely smug and Lisa shoves her playfully, turning to you. “You owe me £50 (Y/ln), I really thought you were going to ask her out first.” Lisa grumbles jokingly.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but maybe you’ll get that £50 back one day.” You say, and everyone laughs.

“So, now that that's settled, what are you two going to do now?” Jisoo speaks up. Everyone turns their attention to her, she takes a sip of water from her cup before she continues. “We were planning on going out to eat with Naeyeon later, you guys should join us if you have nothing planned.”

“That sounds—“ You began, only to be interrupted by Rosé. She puts her hand at the small of your back. “Thank you, Jisoo, but we have some plans.”

“We do?” You whisper dumbly, turning to face her.

“Yes. I want to take you and Nala on a date if you don’t have other plans, if that’s okay?”

“Really?” You’re sure that cheesy smile is growing on your face but heck, you can’t deny you are feeling excited. “That sounds great, Rosé.”

Rosé and you picked up Nala from after school activities.

“Hi!”

“Hi sunshine.” “Hi Nala.” You both greet, and then walk back to the car, where you parked across the street, Nala’s hand in holding one of yours and one of Rosé’s as she tells you about school. (She’ll pretend this moment doesn’t mean the world to her.) You help Nala get strapped in her car seat while Rosé waits patiently in the driver seat.

“Where are we going?” Nala asks when the car starts moving.

“It’s a surprise.” Rosé answers.

“Ohhh…I like surprises.”

“You do?”

“Yup!”

“Good, then you’ll like where we’re going.” She hopes.

Besides you and Rosé talking about what not, it’s quiet except for the slight hum of the car’s engine, until Nala speaks up. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost,” You respond, despite not knowing where Rosé plans to take you two either, hoping to quell your daughter’s growing impatience. She didn’t stay patient for long after that, asking once again thirteen minutes later.

“Are we there now?”

“We are,” Rosé says, pulling into a parking lot. You’re really curious to where this is going. There’s nothing eye-catching in sight except a small building, the small sign appearing legible the closer you get. That’s where she leads you.

Turns out it was a hidden gem in the city: “Kaao Pottery.”

“Hello, how are you, Mary?” Rosé greets the elderly woman at the front desk with a kind smile upon walking in. The old woman’s face visibly brightens upon seeing her, and she greets her back enthusiastically. “Rosé! It's good to see you. I'm doing well, my grandkids are out today so it’s just me and my husband. What can I do for you and your friends today?” She asks, noticing Rosé is not alone. You and Nala look around curiously at the small trinkets and pieces of art on the shelves displayed, completely awed.

“That’s good. I’d like to rent two throwing wheels for a couple hours, and paint what we make.”

The old woman nods. “Do you need mentored?”

“No. I’ll teach them.”With that Rosé takes you over to one of the sections of the building. The sections are similar, each section has a wooden table (for painting your art after it’s shaped and out in the kiln), a kiln, coat hanger, and two pottery wheels. The table has an assortment of paints and glazes along with different sized brushes and tools.

“Do you come here a lot?” You ask curiously, taking off Nala’s coat.

“I do. I like to come here and make things when I’m in need of a break.” Rosé says as she takes your coats and hangs them up. “It helps me feel productive, so I find myself here a lot. I like to try my hand at making different things each time, and I thought it’d be fun sharing something I like to do with you.”

Next to your pottery wheels hangs navy aprons of different sizes. First she takes one of the child sized ones and helps Nala put her head through the neck area and ties the back. “All good?” She asks and Nala gives her a little twirl, “Yup!”

She smiles. “Great,” now, turning to you, she gestures to the other apron in her hand. “Would you like me to help you as well?” You nod, and she places a hand on your waist, to move past you and go behind you, her hands flutter down your back, tying the loops securely and she squeezes your hip when she’s done, facing you with a grin. “There, all nice and secure.”

You chuckle, face irrationally warm. “Thanks, Rosé.”

“What are we doin’ now momma? What’s that?” Nala tugs on your pants, pointing to the pottery wheels. “I’m not sure baby,” You humor, turning to Rosé.

“We’re going to make planters or vases.”

(There's a perfectly logical explanation to this.)

“Okay!”

Would you like to continue?

#biscuitblinkeu #fanfic #blackpink x reader #blackpink #fem reader #rosé x reader #rosé x fem!reader #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung x fem!reader #Unlawful.biscuit

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