#and having to take note of everything i need to send once the system is back up

[seasbound]

the messaging system that is the pillar of all internal and external communication at my job is down so i guess i'll write????

[jamiefartt]

richmond's receptionist

part 2.

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, basically all of richmond is mentioned tho

summary: where you're the receptionist at richmond fc and you slowly but surely form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt

words: 6864

warnings: none just swearing and a little bit of rude jamie

—

day in and day out you watch the people of richmond fc enter and exit the home of their beloved football team. you spend your days behind the blue reception desk doing admin; sending emails, taking calls, and making sure everything is running smoothly. you've been the receptionist at Richmond for a little over three months, and you had no complaints so far. your favourite part of the day was watching Rebecca arrive to work. you always hear her heels before you see her, then she struts past your desk with a swift 'good morning' every day. not one day has gone by where she hasn't greeted you that way, and the acknowledgment lightens your mood each time.

as you're checking the company emails one morning, you hear Rebecca's footsteps approaching. you look up to smile at her, expecting the usual greeting, but instead she goes off-script.

"ah, good morning y/n. i'm not sure if you've seen the email but we are implementing a new daily register system. every morning, when our staff and players arrive, they must tick the box next to their name and note what time they arrive at. for visitors, they will have to sign their name on the bottom." you nod along attentively to her new instructions.

"okay, great! so, in the evenings, should everyone just do the same thing; tick the box, add the time?"

"you catch on fast. see, this is why I knew we needed a better receptionist," she smiles at you genuinely, adjusting her handbag on her arm before turning to walk to her office. "oh, and everyone should have received the email so I hope that saves you wasting time to explain this to everybody."

thanking her with a kind smile, you bid your goodbyes. you open your personal staff email, only to find an email from Higgins including a pdf of the sign in sheet. you take it upon yourself to print a week's worth, attaching them to a clipboard and placing it on top of the tall desk. you smile to yourself, looking forward to getting to know everyone's names and have more opportunities for small talk in the mornings.

the clock is nearing 8:30am, and you're already deep in your inbox forwarding and responding to emails. you've only had to explain the new system to a handful of staff, including Laughing Liam who, naturally, laughed at it. the players should be arriving soon, so you take the time to straighten your blouse and sit up straight in your chair. presumably, these men don't check their emails first thing in the morning, so you're expecting to have to repeat yourself a lot this morning.

"good morning y/n!" Colin chirps. he's the first of the team to arrive, as per usual.

"hey Colin! I thought I heard tires screech outside." you joke. "I'm not sure if you saw the email-"

"stop right there. i saw the email this morning." cutting you off, he picks up a Richmond pen before sliding the clipboard towards him and signing in. you chuckle to yourself and wave him goodbye.

soon after, the rest of the Richmond players flood into the building. some are in pairs, others in groups, and they even form a small queue as they wait their turn to sign in. Dani's excited by the new organisation plan, Roy grunts but still cracks a small smile, and Ted holds up the line talking to you whilst Beard signs both of them in. the only person to arrive alone, and last, is Jamie Tartt. he rolls right past you, not once looking up from his phone. you quickly call after him: "Uhm, Jamie!" you've never spoken to him, nevertheless called him by his first name.

his head lifts at the unexpected sound of your voice, and he looks around trying to find the source.

"sorry, Mr. Tartt. I didn't mean to shout... or call you Jamie," your voice goes quiet as he turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. "what?" he replies, slowly walking towards the desk.

"basically, there's a bit of a new system here now. every morning and every evening you'll have to check in and out on this sheet. just tick the box next to your name and then add the time you arrive and leave." you explain with a smile, holding his questioning gaze the entire time.

"right, right, okay... what if, instead of me wasting me time clocking in and out, you just do it for me. you see me arrive, you sign me in. you see me leave, you sign me out. simple as." he states, and he sends you a quick wink before spinning around and heading straight for the locker room.

your mouth snaps open and shut a few times, surprised at his refusal to cooperate. you knew he had been a pain, despite his talent, but ever since he returned from manchester city he'd dropped his act a little. still, all you could do was watch his back, his bright orange jacket disappearing around the corner.

—

the sign-in system is easily integrated into richmond fc's daily routine, everyone dedicating those few minutes every day to tick the box and smile at you. some even taking the time to have a chat with you and soon enough, you know everyone's names.

while your typing up an email to Keeley about a new sponsor, someone walks up to your desk and drums his hands atop it. your eyes snap up and a smile takes over your face at the sight of Ted.

"hi Coach, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, y/n, thanks for asking! I would ask how you're doing but I'm here about someone else..." Ted's gaze narrows and your smile shrinks slightly.

"what's up?" you turn your chair to face him to show your full attention is on him.

"my pal Higgins has informed me that one of my players hasn't been signing in with you every day."

"yeah..." you trail off, "Jamie hasn't really been making the effort. I'm sorry if I should have been doing it for him I just wasn't sure if that would be... against safety regulations... or something?"

Ted raises his eyebrows at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "did he ask you to sign him in and out every day?"

"yes, he did. he said I should just watch out for him coming and going then write down the time."

"oh okay, I see. I will talk to him at lunch. Don't you worry, y/n."

as he walks away, you sigh in relief, worried you were getting in trouble for Jamie's slacking. you turn back to your computer, cracking your knuckles before getting back to your work.

later that day, as you log out of your computer and start packing up your stuff, the team pours out of the locker room. some sign themselves out, some sign themselves and their mates out. you make sure to keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to avoid the responsibility, but the only person who strides past the group with no remorse is, once again, Jamie Tartt. your eyes meet Ted's who is looking at you with an apologetic look. you shrug in response, brushing it off. Jamie is his own person, you're not in charge of him.

the next morning, the day starts as usual; Rebecca is the first to arrive, followed by some members of staff, before the coaching team and players pour in from the car park. despite people greeting you and talking, you only half-respond. you're too busy looking over everyone's heads trying to spot the stubborn player you just haven't been able to crack.

"I've spoken to that prick. he can't keep fucking you over. let me know if he causes any problems." Roy grumbles, interrupting your focus.

"cheers, Roy," you smile at him warmly, wondering if his words will have had any effect on Jamie.

when the clock strikes 9, you sink back into your chair. the last of the staff have arrived for their day, and training is about to start – but still, no Jamie Tartt.

you grab the clip board and flick through the pages, making sure you didn't miss him signing in. still, on every page, the boxes next to his name are left blank. you sigh, shaking your head, unsure of how to tell Rebecca you got through to everyone expect for one measly player.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you say, before looking up from the list of names.

there's two coffee cups in front of you, both with the name Jamie scribbled on the sides in black marker. you lift your gaze, and funnily enough, Jamie is stood in front of you.

"listen yeah, I jus' wanted to say sorry for not doin' the whole... sign-in sheet shit. Roy had a proper go at me yesterday, so... I brought you coffee. hope this makes up for it." he can barely meet your eyes as he speaks, but ends his apology with a small smile.

"oh, wow, thank you. that's very kind, Jamie." you genuinely smile at him, hoping his might lift even a little bit more. instead, his eyes soften.

"I just got you a latte. I hope that's okay, I weren't sure what you liked and didn't have time to ask Keeley so,"

"that's perfect, Jamie, thank you so much. you really didn't have to do this."

"yes, I did, I think. it's not fair for you to be worrying about your job because of me."

thanking him again, you take one of the takeaway cups, taking a small sip of the warm coffee. Jamie nods at you as if to say goodbye, and you return the nod with a cheeky wink. you can't be sure, but you think you see Jamie's smile finally reach his eyes as he turns around.

the following morning, as you're talking to Isaac about becoming the new team captain, you're interrupted by none other than Jamie. your face lightens up at the sight of him, and you laugh as he pushes Isaac with his shoulder, making him leave the front desk.

"what's this for?" you ask as he sets another coffee cup down in front of you.

"I dunno... I was already getting meself coffee, so I thought I might as well get you another latte."

"you don't have to do that, Jamie. but if it means you come to the desk to sign in then I won't complain."

you can't seem to take your eyes off his hands as he picks up the pen Isaac had just used. his fingers seem to move slowly over the page, smoothing over everyone's names until he reached his. you admire the rings on his fingers, taking a special interest in the gold signet on his pinky as it supports the pen gliding along the form.

"do you like it?"

you blink a few times before snapping out of your daydream, looking up to see Jamie smirking down at you.

"hm?" you ask, gulping down the embarrassment of being caught in your daze.

"do you like my ring?"

"what? your pinky ring? uhm, sure, yeah. it's nice..."

"good save, love. it's me granddad's. he gave it me when I first went to play for Man City."

"it's beautiful..." you say, smiling before looking down at the ring again. you notice how delicately his hands move as he puts the pen down. you didn't expect such a machismo to have such nice hands but you can tell Jamie takes good care of himself.

he smiles, huffing out a small chuckle at your admiration. "see ya later, y/n." "

"bye, Jamie." you smile, taking the clipboard from him. you glance down at his name, spotting a small heart drawn beside it. it's uneven and a bit jagged, but the doodle still tugs at your heart strings.

from then on, every single morning, you are greeted by a latte and a chat from Jamie. every day, he lingers more and more as you talk to each other, and you always end up drinking half of your coffees before he pulls himself away from your desk. in the evenings, he's always one of the first to sign out. instead of saying goodbye, he simply winks at you. you hate to admit it but you start memorising what times Jamie arrives and leaves. as much as you love talking to him, and especially him winking at you every time he leaves, you love waiting for him. you love the nerves that build in your stomach as you watch the clock, and by the time he finally reaches you, you're already slightly blushing. when he turns to leave your desk, your eyes follow his figure and you let the blush take over your cheeks completely.

—

"hey, y/n, have you got a minute?" Isaac walks up to your desk.

"Isaac! of course!" you chirp, taking the last sip of your latte. Isaac reads the name written across the cup and raises his eyebrows knowingly.

"ah, speak of the devil,"

"what?" you turn the cup around, running your thumb across Jamie's name, "oh, yeah,"

"about Jamie... I really hate to involve you in actual football shit but he's been slacking a bit in training."

"oh, okay, would you like me to pass on the message to Rebecca?"

"no, no, it's just... he's been showing up late to training and then leaves early. during trainings, he's always... agreeing?" you raise your eyebrows at Isaac's words, "he never puts up a fight anymore, and we kind of need that Jamie Tartt for our big game this Saturday."

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but I'm not really sure what I can do about this. I really would love to help but there's not much I can do."

"I really hate to ask this from you, but," he takes a deep breath, a small smile appearing on his face, "I need you to piss him off a bit this week."

you laugh out loud, attempting to brush off his obvious joke by turning back to your computer.

"I'm not joking." his smile drops instantly, and your laugh falters before your face goes serious. "he likes you, so if you start acting cold towards him, it would really throw him off." Isaac's smile returns, and you giggle at his idea. trying not to read into his phrasing too much, you take a deep breath and nod.

"got it, Captain." you salute towards him. his eyebrows furrow as he curtly nods at you before turning around and jogging away.

what does he mean with Jamie liking you? a blush creeps up your face at the thought of him mentioning your name every time he's late, making up some excuse about the sign in taking too long. you start to brainstorm how you're going to turn the cold shoulder to Jamie this afternoon, feeling ever so slightly bad but trusting Isaac's judgement at the same time.

sure enough, Jamie is the first person out of training. you look up at him, and he smiles at you from the end of the hallway before jogging towards you.

"hi, y/n," his fingers drum on the desk, clearly excited to see you.

"if you'd just like to sign out for me there please, Jamie." you speak up, not looking up from your screen.

Jamie's immediately taken aback by your tone and from the corner of your eye you can see him pull his head back in confusion.

he chuckles awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation, "uhm, okay... what's the time, y/n?"

you don't respond, instead you point up at the clock on the wall behind you.

Jamie scoffs, quickly scribbling down the time and dropping the pen with a little bit of force. you don't react, as much as you wish you could just look up and meet his eyes.

"okay, bye then." he sighs deeply then heads towards the car park. as you see Isaac approach your desk, the rest of the team in tow, you hear an engine roar off into the distance.

"sounds like you've already pissed him off," Isaac says, "how did you manage that?"

"I just didn't look at him." you shrug nonchalantly.

"mhm, yeah he hates that. good job, bruv." he holds out his fist for you to bump. your knuckles meet his as you wink at him.

—

"hi, y/n, you alright, yeah?"

you hear Jamie place down a coffee cup. he whistles a little tune trying to get your attention, but when you still don't look up at him, he just picks up the pen and quickly signs in.

"listen, I'm not sure if you're just busy or what, but we play the Spurs tomorrow and I'd really like to see you there."

before you can even look up at him, Jamie turns around and leaves. you wait until he's a few feet away before looking up to take your coffee. you stare at his back, sighing to yourself. you understand the Captain's orders but it doesn't feel right ignoring Jamie. you would never tell him but your little routine has become your favourite part of your day at Richmond. you watch as his pinky signet ring catches the bright lights of the hallway and you take the opportunity to rake your eyes over Jamie's figure. his grey skinny jeans hug his legs perfectly, and his black jacket accentuates his broad shoulders. you lift your gaze to see his hair is gelled back neatly. you continue to stare at him, and as he's just about to turn the corner, he turns his head to take one last look at you. your eyes just about meet before you quickly snap your head down, pretending you weren't looking at him.

"y/n! I heard you fixed Jamie!" Keeley squeals as her and Roy walk up to the desk.

"I know, I hate it!" you reply, slumping your shoulders.

"don't worry, y/n. he'll be back to normal after tomorrow's game." Roy helps.

"sure but I don't want him to hate me."

"trust me; he doesn't fucking hate you." he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Keeley nods, "it's true. he's got a soft spot for you."

"he still invited me to the game." you shrug, hopeful that means he doesn't hate you.

"ah! brilliant! I'll talk to Rebecca, I'm gonna get you a seat with us. that way, you can watch the match without him even knowing you're there!" Keeley bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"doesn't that defeat the point of me being there?"

"no babe, it's all about the teasing. he's gonna be fuming when he thinks you're not there, and then after the game you can surprise him! it'll work wonders, I swear."

you give her a questioning look, turning to Roy for a second opinion. he stays completely silent, simply giving you a single nod.

"if you think it'll work, let's do it." you hesitate slightly, but ultimately agree. you won't mind teasing Jamie a little bit. it's all he ever does.

your eyes drift to the picture of him plastered on the wall beside you. the cocky smirk on his face taunts you as you consider just texting him an apology.

"good morning! whatever you said to Jamie really worked, y/n. he never passes to me anymore!" a chipper Sam says to you as he signs himself in.

"is that a really a good thing?"

"it is for now. but please, after tomorrow, bring him back to normal. he's almost my friend and I want to keep it that way." he gives you a sad smile before bidding you goodbye.

throughout the day, you take calls and file more admin work. you talk to Higgins, Ted, and Keeley, filling them in on the plan for the Tottenham match tomorrow. it's a struggle to sit at your desk with Jamie constantly filling up his bottle from the water fountain in front of you. there's plenty of others for him to use, but he's clearly making the extra effort to see you in the hopes you'll talk to him. much to your dismay, you continue to ignore him. it's only been two days that you've been ignoring Jamie, but it's still hard avoiding the one thing that makes your day just that little bit better.

all packed up to go home, you wait for the last sign outs of the day. Rebecca's heels descend the stairs, and once again you hear her before you see her.

"y/n, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"no worries. that's my job," you smile at her, moving to exit your desk. you step down from the raised platform, about to shrug your jacket on.

"ah- ah- ah, I'm afraid I'm not the last to go home." Rebecca interrupts your movement, pointing a finger down the hallway.

"oh, uh, who's left?" you ask her, already taking your jacket off again.

"I think there's someone in the gym. oh, and there's a package for you in the coach's office. don't forget to pick that up before you leave."

you shake your head, confused; "uhm, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Welton." you smile at her politely, giving her a small nod.

"Rebecca." she assures you with a small which mirrors yours. as she turns to leave, you hold back a sigh and place your jacket and bag atop the desk. you iron down your shirt and fix the pleats on your trousers before venturing down the hallway.

you can hear small puffs and the whirring of a treadmill as you get closer to the coach's office. choosing to cut through the locker room, you look at the large empty space. you look over each name on the far side, reading them out loud quietly to yourself. moving towards Sam's locker, you smile at the photo of the Nigerian national team he keeps on his shelf. turning around, you read the names on the other side of the room. eyes landing on the locker at the end of the row, you finally let out the sigh you were holding in. "Tartt" you say out loud to yourself. butterflies fill your stomach before a nervous twist takes over. "he likes you" Isaac's words replay in your head. "he's got a soft spot for you" you remember what Keeley said. you ponder on their words, wondering why you of all people were Isaac's choice. Surely Roy could've talked some sense into him, or Ted if he got angry?

you shake the thoughts from your head, quickly looking away from Jamie's locker just in case your clouded mind takes charge again. looking through the window into the office, you see a white parcel on Beard's desk. there's a bright yellow sticky note on top of it:

'For y/n. You'll need this tomorrow! - Coaches'

you smile softly before pulling off the sticky note and picking up the package. the sound of the treadmill is louder now that you're right next to the gym, and the huffing and puffing increases too. loud beeps sound out and suddenly the footsteps on the treadmill seem to be going impossibly fast. pushing your curiosity aside, you cut the corner of the white bag, ripping it open. inside it is a neatly folded jersey – a Richmond jersey. you pick it up by the shoulders, holding it up in front of you. when you turn it around, you let a laugh escape your lips, hoping the treadmill covers the sound. it reads the same as Jamie's locker: Tartt 9.

shaking your head in disbelief, you fold it up neatly and place it back in its package. you hug it tight to your chest as you move quietly towards the window into the gym. you peer in, and to your surprise, you see Jamie almost destroying the treadmill with how fast he's going. his feet barely seem to hit the rubber, running like he is being chased by something twice his size. your smile falls and your brows crease together. he seems pissed, even though you can't see his face, his ferocious speed tells you enough. you turn back around, grabbing the post-it notes from Ted's desk and writing something down. you end your note with a small heart, hoping the coach sees it before the match.

—

"come on Richmond!"

the ear deafening crowds cheer and chant for Richmond FC as they file into the stadium. you're sitting in the owner's suite behind Rebecca and Keeley, with Higgins next to you.

"did you get my package?" Keeley asks, teethy smile across her face.

"I knew it was you! you cheeky little shit!" you laughed loudly, clapping her hands into yours. you take your jacket off, turn around and bring your arms up, pointing two thumbs at the back of your shirt.

"ah, young love..." Higgins sighs.

immediately turning back around, you scoff at him; "pfft, we're not in love! in fact, I'm not even sure we're friends right now."

"don't worry about it, y/n. I promise." Rebecca assuredly says to you, before turning to watch the match begin.

the whistle is about to blow, so you quickly try to find Jamie on the pitch. your eyes scan over the group, and you soon spot him in the middle of the pitch jumping up and down. he spits on the ground and claps his hands together, clearly riled up and ready to lead Richmond to a win.

the crowd roars as the whistle blows, and Jamie initiates kick off. you didn't think you would ever see him run as fast as he was on the treadmill yesterday, but somehow he is beating his own personal record. in the blink of an eye, he runs from one end of the pitch to the other. by some miracle, he seems to always have the ball in possession. after passing it back and forth, any time he's anywhere near the goal, the ball is at his feet.

in the 40th minute of the game, Jamie is crashing through Tottenham players, bumping shoulders with every single one as he makes his way towards their goal. you can see his cheeks puffing air in and out of his lungs rapidly, and after finding himself completely unobstructed, he kicks the ball with so much force that his mouth opens and you can almost hear his shout.

everything seems to go in slow motion. you hold your breath and raise your hands to cover your mouth. the ball flies through the air, magically curving towards the goal. the keeper jumps, hands in the air, and his finger tips merely brush the ball. but he's unable to push it hard enough, the ball crashing straight into the middle of the net.

the stadium erupts in cheers and roars, and you jump into the air with a loud scream. you hug Higgins in excitement and shake Keeley's shoulders before high-fiving Rebecca. you watch the team celebrate by running up to Jamie, who is stood completely still in the spot from where he scored. you can see his chest heaving, catching his breath as his teammates hug him and clap his back. but he doesn't seem to celebrate with them, instead you watch as he looks up and into the crowd without even a smile on his face. your expression falls, feeling your colleagues' eyes on you. Keeley grabs your hand, snapping your attention from the pitch to her; "go." she says, squeezing your hand. you purse your lips and nod at her, squeezing back, before pushing past Higgins and running inside.

as you rush through the VIP bar, you hear the half-time whistle. you head down the stairs and out the back of the stadium. you curse yourself for wearing your boots as you try to run to the main building. running doesn't seem to be your best bet, so you settle on a speed walk as you get closer and closer to the door. finally, you push open the door, passing by the reception desk you would normally sit at.

you continue your journey down the hallway and then turn right, heading straight for the locker room. you can hear the team from far away, cheering in celebration. as you turn the corner, you see all of them fall into the locker room in a line. they're so excited they don't notice you leaning against the wall watching them. the only person who isn't too busy celebrating, though, is Jamie Tartt, who is trailing behind the team like a sad puppy. his hands are wrapped in his shirt, and he's looking at his feet which he's scoffing across the floor. clearing your throat, you hope it catches his attention, his mind clearly elsewhere.

his head snaps up and looks in your direction. stopping dead in his tracks, he drops his hands from his shirt and fixes his headband. quickly glancing into the changing room, he goes unnoticed by the team as he dips his head and does a few long strides towards you.

"Jamie, I-"

"are you alright? like really alright? did I do somethin'?

"Jamie," you sigh deeply, not knowing how to explain Isaac's orders. "I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. it wasn't my idea, I promise."

"your idea? what're you talkin' about?" Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head, a lock of hair moving forward into his eye.

you reach a hand up, gently moving the strand out of his vision. you watch as his eyes soften, dropping to the floor before they meet your gaze again. a sad crease appears between his eyebrows when you bring your hand down to your side again.

after taking a deep breath, you begin to explain; "Isaac said you were playing too friendly during training, slacking a little bit – and yeah, turning up late and then leaving early. he wanted you to be ready for today's match, y'know. so he asked me to rile you up a little bit, just so they could have the old Jamie Tartt back."

Jamie pouts, brows furrowed in confusion, as he blinks at you a few times. avoiding your eyes, he starts slowly nodding, tongue poking his cheek as he thinks to himself. after a few long seconds, the corner of his mouth lifts as he huffs a sarcastic laugh. you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping you haven't upset him. licking his lips, Jamie's smile widens as his laugh grows. you crack a small smile at him and try to find his gaze again, moving a step closer to him. placing a hand on his strong bicep, you try to get him to look at you. instead, he shrugs you off, leaning down and digging a finger into his sock. you stare, confused, waiting for his next move.

"so- if Isaac told you to ignore me a bit... what the fuck is this?" he unfolds a pink post-it note holding it up to you before reading it out loud; "dear Tartt, I don't even like lattes". Jamie raises his eyebrows at you while you stifle a laugh. "what makes this worse is the stupid fucking heart at the bottom of the page!"

"I was just trying to piss you off! Isaac told me!"

Jamie finally lets out a loud laugh, and you do the same, dropping your head into your hands in embarrassment. you don't have the gall to look up at him, suddenly so ashamed of the stupid gag you pulled. you feel warm hands wrap around your wrists, and you lift your head to look at Jamie as he pulls your hands away from your face.

"darlin' I hope you know the only reason I've been late to training is because I can't stop talking to you. and I leave early just so I can see you before the rest of the lads hound ya..."

you blush – hard – and you stare into Jamie's dark blue eyes. his hands slide from your wrists to your hands, softly holding your fingers in his. you sneak a glance at your touch, and when you look back up Jamie's even closer to you. as he towers over you, you can't help but look down at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"now, don't lie to me... do you really not like lattes?"

"I love lattes." you whisper, smiling sweetly up at him as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"can I take you out tonight? I wanna celebrate our win since you're the reason for it."

you scoff and shake your head: "Jamie, it's half-time."

"I can give you a lift home after, yeah?" he ignores your obvious statement.

"what if you lose?" you tease.

now it's Jamie's turn to scoff at you, squeezing your hands slightly as he says: "as long as you're in the crowd I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"Jamie! we need you, buddy!" Ted interrupts the moment, sticking his head out of the door of the locker room to beckon him in.

"see you later, Jamie." you pull your hands from his, although against your will, as if you had it your way you would kiss him right then and there. he doesn't move as you turn around, about to turn the corner into the hallway before you feel a hand grab yours again. Jamie pulls your hand, making you spin around to face him again. as he tugs your hand, he wraps his other arm around your shoulders in a hug. your face presses into his hard chest as he holds you close for a moment. you let out a deep breath as you enjoy the heat radiating off his body.

as he moves back to let go of you, he leans down so his lips brush your ear before whispering: "nice shirt, by the way. my name suits ya."

your breath hitches at his flirtatious tone and a blush already starts creeping up your neck. he pulls back and flicks his eyes up and down your body. as he turns around to join his team, he winks at you, and even though he winks at you every day, this one hits you a lot harder.

as you watch Jamie retreat to the locker room, you lock eyes with Ted at its door. you try to fight the shy smile growing on your face, but fail miserably as a blush takes over your face. Ted lifts his hand to his forehead and salutes at you. you mirror him, bringing two fingers up to your head and saluting him back.

you walk back to the stadium fanning your face with your hands, desperately trying to cool yourself down. after sighing in relief, you laugh to yourself thinking about how your time at Richmond has changed over the past few weeks – and it was all due to Jamie Tartt.

when you return to your seat, Keeley squeals at you, making Rebecca jump. you shuffle past Higgins and sit back in your seat, touching up your hair and taking a deep breath.

"he asked me on a date!" you finally exclaim to Keeley and Rebecca, and the two respond with even louder squeals, which you join in on. your celebration is interrupted by the ref blowing his whistle, and you all focus on the game again.

the guys walk onto the pitch in single file, Isaac leading them out. their faces are stone cold, clearly ready to destroy their opponents. you stand up from your seat, eager to see Jamie after your encounter in the hallway. you finally spot him, and you can see him bouncing on his feet as approaches the pitch. once he's at the halfway line, and all the other players are finding their spot, you see him turn towards your side of the stadium. he looks up at the suite you're sitting in, and you quickly put your hands in the air, hoping he'll spot you. you assume he sees you, as he brings both hands to his lips and blows you a smooth kiss, before patting the Richmond badge on his chest and sticking his tongue out. you cackle at his antics, loving his dramatic entree. you quickly blow a kiss back and wave, praying they win this match so messing him around wasn't just for nothing.

you've never been more nervous watching a Richmond game. you've gone to a number of them since beginning your job as receptionist, but you've never been so enthralled by the sport itself – well, the players... one of the players.

Jamie sprints across the pitch, back and forth and back and forth, the ball at his feet. you, Keeley, and Rebecca scream and shout as you watch Richmond score three more goals. Colin scores with an impressive header, Dani bicycle kicks the ball straight into the net, and of course Jamie punts the ball past half the other players and the keeper, securing the last point for Richmond.

after the match, you find your way back to Richmond's headquarters, pushing open the same door you entered through earlier. this time, Keeley and Rebecca are walking in tow. you all stop at the reception desk, chatting about the game and your weekend plans.

"so how did he ask you out?" Rebecca lowers her voice, just in case Jamie turns the corner. you laugh nervously, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

"no, no, no, he didn't ask me out. he asked me on a date. there's a difference."

"but he's so obviously into you! what's stopping you from just grabbing him by the hair and shagging him!" Keeley exclaims, a lot less subtle than Rebecca's careful tone. you sputter and laugh, Rebecca doing the same, both of you shocked at how direct Keeley spoke about you and Jamie.

"shut up you two! I'll let you know how it goes tonight, you go celebrate!"

Rebecca and Keeley hug you goodbye before walking down the hall. you turn around and giggle to yourself, blushing from Keeley's comment. lifting your head, your eyes fall on Jamie's wall sticker again. just thinking about how close he was to you earlier makes your heart race, your head dizzying at the memory of lips brushing your ear. fixing your hair, you move around the desk and sit in your usual chair. you try to calm your breathing and bring your heart rate down, not wanting to look like a yearning, blushing mess.

after managing to pull yourself together, your heart beat pounds against your chest again when you see the Richmond team crowd into the hallway. Isaac cheers when he sees you at your desk, and Colin, who is on his back, joins in.

"well done, boys!" you call to them while you wave at everyone passing you by.

"bye, y/n! see you on Monday!" Sam says to you with a big smile. you wave him goodbye and sigh happily, genuinely excited for the team.

their cheering goes quiet the further away they get from the door, and you wonder where Jamie is. you check your phone for any text messages, but there's nothing from Jamie. there is one from Keeley, however; 'don't forget to use protection!'

you scoff at her suggestive words, texting back a thumbs up with a kissy face. placing your phone down on your desk you look up, only to see Jamie sauntering towards you.

"hi, y/n," he says as he gets closer to the desk.

"hi, Jamie,"

"how ya been?"

"just fine, what about you, Jamie?"

"yeah, good, yeah... happy about our win."

"I can imagine. you were a proper superstar on that pitch."

wide smiles grow on both of your faces as you continue the small talk; "thanks, love. what can I say? Roy says I've got a right foot kissed by God, so ya'know this is just a regular day for me."

you chuckle at his feigned cockiness, standing up from your chair and leaning over your desk. "don't you want to go celebrate that win with your teammates, Jamie Tartt?"

"nah, that's alright, thanks. I've got other plans."

"oh yeah?" you tease.

"yeah, I've got dinner plans with a really pretty girl,"

you nod along with your eyebrows raised, smiling playfully at Jamie. his hair is still damp from the shower, but he's kept his same hairband look from on the pitch. he's wearing a bright orange t-shirt under a dark green jacket, an unexpectedly nice look on him.

"who's this girl then?"

"ah you'd love her; she's friendly, funny, gorgeous. she doesn't like lattes, though. and she pretended to ignore me but is still wearin' my name on her back."

you laugh, breaking character. you smile at him, raking your eyes up and down his body shamelessly. his eyes widen as you do so, surprised by how forward you're being. you bite your lip at him before saying: "you gonna treat her right, Tartt?"

he teases you back, matching your flirtatious tone. licking his lips, he lets his eyes drop to your lips: "if she'll let me."

���——

just something from my mind hope u like it !

[honeyslibrary]

Native Tongue | Nico Hischier

Pairing; Nico Hischier x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Smut, cursing? (can’t remember lol), fluff, established relationship, edited once

Summary; Reader asks Nico to teach her some Swiss German

Word Count; 4.6k

Authors Note: This is so simple and the smut is more rushed than I’d like but I still love this so much. This was my first time writing for Nico and I’d say I did pretty okay? Translations are from Google so hopefully those aren’t too butchered 🙏🏽 Love you guys!! Accepting requests for Nico pls send if you have any 🩵🩵 -Honey

P.S: Scrolling Pinterest to find pics for the title/cover and oh my God is he beautiful. The brown eyes and dimples combo will do it every time I’m actually giggling at work I want him sooooo badly

The soft glow of a bedside lamp cast shadows across Nico's apartment, the warm light complementing the muted tones of his bedroom. Outside, Newark was alive with its usual evening bustle, but inside, time seemed to slow to a gentle rhythm. It was one of those rare off nights during the season. No game, no travel, just time to breathe.

You had been dating Nico Hischier for just over three weeks now. Everything still carried that new relationship electricity: the flutter in your stomach when he texted, the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you across a room, the way his Swiss accent thickened when he was tired or excited.

Tonight was simple. No fancy dinner reservations or planned activities, just you and him, lying on his bed, shoulders touching, talking about anything that crossed your minds. The conversation flowed easily between you, jumping from childhood memories to favorite movies to plans for the upcoming weekend.

His hand was resting in yours, and you traced the lines of his palm with your fingertips, feeling the calluses that told stories of countless hours gripping a hockey stick. These were the hands that had cradled pucks, won face-offs, and occasionally, thrown punches in defense of teammates. Now, they were relaxed in yours, trusting.

"Does this feel good?" you asked, pressing your thumb into the center of his palm in small, circular motions.

He hummed in contentment. "Very. Where did you learn to do this?"

"I had a friend who was a massage therapist. She taught me a few things." You continued working on his hand, moving to his fingers, gently pulling and stretching each one. "Hockey players need hand massages, right? All that stick handling."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "It's not something we talk about, but yes. Hands, wrists... they take a beating."

"Well, consider this a service to the Devils, then. I'm helping maintain their captain."

His smile was visible even in your peripheral vision. "Very thoughtful of you."

You both fell quiet for a moment, comfortable in the silence. The soft whirr of the heating system provided a gentle backdrop to your thoughts. Outside, a car horn honked, distant and unimportant.

"Can I ask you something?" you said finally, your voice soft in the dimly lit room.

"Anything."

"Would you teach me some Swiss German? Just a few phrases?"

Nico turned his head to look at you, his expression curious. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged, still focused on massaging his hand. "I don't know. It's part of who you are. I want to know all parts of you." You paused, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. "Plus, I think it sounds beautiful when you speak it."

He was quiet for a moment, and you worried you'd said something wrong. But when you finally looked at him, his eyes were soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

"That's... no one has ever asked me that before." He shifted to face you better. "What would you like to learn?"

You grinned, excited. "Start with the basics? Hello, goodbye, thank you?"

Nico nodded, looking thoughtful. "Alright. So, 'hello' is 'grüezi' in Swiss German."

"Grüezi," you repeated, the unfamiliar word clumsy on your tongue.

His smile widened. "Not bad for a first try. Try again, but it's more like... 'GRÜE-tzi' with emphasis on the first part."

"Grüezi," you attempted again, trying to mimic his pronunciation.

"Better! Now, 'goodbye' can be 'uf widerluege'."

You laughed. "That's a mouthful. Uf... wider..."

"Widerluege," he finished, his voice patient. "It literally means 'until we see each other again'."

"That's actually beautiful. Uf widerluege," you tried, the words feeling foreign but fascinating on your lips.

"And 'thank you' is 'merci vielmal'."

"That sounds part French!"

Nico nodded. "Swiss German borrows from many languages. We're surrounded by different cultures."

"Merci vielmal," you said, feeling proud when his eyes lit up at your decent pronunciation.

"Perfect! You're a natural."

The praise warmed you. "What else can you teach me?"

Nico thought for a moment. "How about... 'I like you'? That's 'Ich mag dich'."

"Ich mag dich," you repeated, looking directly into his eyes as you said it.

Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly. "Very good."

"And how would you say 'I really like you'?" you asked, your voice dropping to just above a whisper.

"Ich mag dich würklich sehr," he replied, his voice equally soft.

You repeated the phrase slowly, "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His eyes never left yours as you spoke, and you noticed the way his breathing seemed to have quickened slightly. Feeling emboldened, you placed his hand down and shifted to face him fully.

"What about..." you hesitated, "how would you say 'kiss me'?"

The atmosphere in the room changed, charged with unspoken tension. Nico's eyes dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again.

"Küss mich," he said, his accent thicker than before.

"Küss mich," you whispered.

He didn't move immediately, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips met yours in a soft, questioning kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious, almost lustful. "Say something else," he requested, his voice rougher than before.

"What should I say?"

"Anything," he replied. "Just... in Swiss German."

You cast your mind back to the phrases he'd taught you, feeling a strange power in knowing how much it affected him to hear you speak his native language.

"Grüezi," you said softly, watching his reaction. "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His exhale was shaky. "Again," he whispered.

"Küss mich," you repeated, more confidently this time.

He closed the distance between you once more, this kiss deeper, more certain. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your own hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palm.

When you separated, both of you were breathing harder. The look in his eyes was intense, almost vulnerable in its honesty.

"You have no idea what it does to me," he admitted, his voice low, "hearing you speak my language."

"I think I'm getting an idea," you replied with a small smile. "How do you say 'I want you'?"

His eyes darkened further. "Ich will dich."

"Ich will dich," you repeated, maintaining eye contact.

A soft groan escaped him. "Your pronunciation is terrible," he said, but his tone was affectionate, teasing.

"Then teach me," you challenged, shifting closer to him.

"Say it again," he instructed, his hand now resting on your waist.

"Ich will dich."

"The 'ch' is deeper, from the back of your throat," he explained, his fingers drawing small circles on your hip.

You tried again, inadvertently making the same mistake.

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips despite the intensity in his eyes. "No, listen to me. Ich."

"Ich," you repeated, still not quite getting it right.

"Here," he said, bringing his hand up to touch your throat gently. "You feel it here when you say it correctly."

You tried again, focusing on the sensation under his fingertips.

"Better," he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now the whole phrase."

"Ich will dich."

"Perfect," he whispered, and then his lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, his hand sliding from your throat to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he pulled you closer.

You responded in kind, your hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, feeling the short hairs there. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you granted readily, a small sound of pleasure escaping you.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "How do you say 'beautiful'?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Schön," he replied, equally quiet.

"Du bist schön," you attempted, guessing at the structure.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before crinkling at the corners with his smile. "That's right. You're learning quickly."

"I have a good teacher," you replied, running your fingers lightly through his hair.

He closed his eyes briefly at your touch, then opened them again, his gaze intense. "It's strange," he said softly.

"What is?" you asked, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Hearing someone speak my language... it's like hearing a piece of home." He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "Especially someone I care about."

The tenderness in his gesture made your heart flutter. "Even if my pronunciation is terrible?"

"Especially then," he laughed softly. "It's... I don't know how to explain it. When you speak English, you're just you. But when you try to speak Swiss German..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "It's like you're reaching for a part of me that not many people here get to see."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I want to see all parts of you, Nico."

His eyes darkened at that, and he shifted slightly, bringing himself closer to you. "Say it again," he murmured.

"What?"

"Ich will dich," he prompted.

You repeated the phrase, trying your best to match his pronunciation, "Ich will dich."

A small groan escaped him, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent than before. His hand moved to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his tongue sought entrance, which you granted eagerly.

When you broke apart, both breathing heavily, there was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. "I don't know why it affects me so much," he admitted. "Hearing you speak Swiss German. It just... does something to me."

You smiled, feeling a surge of power at the knowledge. "Then I should probably keep practicing," you said, your tone deliberately innocent even as you shifted closer, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his hand moving to your waist, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. "It's important to practice."

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

He didn't need to be told twice, his lips finding yours again as his hand splayed across your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the solid strength of him as he held you.

"One more phrase," you breathed when you separated for air. "How do you say 'I want you to touch me'?"

His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to grow even more intense. "Ich will, dass du mich berührst," he replied, his accent thicker than usual.

You tried to repeat it, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds, and he smiled, the expression somehow both tender and predatory.

"Close enough," he murmured, and then his hand was moving, tracing a path up your side with deliberate slowness.

"And how do you say 'don't stop'?" you asked, your voice catching as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"Hör nicht auf," he told you, watching your face intently.

"Hör nicht auf," you repeated, the words turning into a soft gasp as his touch became more purposeful.

His hand slid higher beneath your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your ribs tantalizingly slow. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting something deep within you. His eyes remained fixed on yours, gauging your reactions, seeming to find satisfaction in every small catch of your breath.

"Another phrase?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that you could feel through his chest where it pressed against yours.

You nodded, not trusting your voice as his thumb traced lazy circles just below the underwire of your bra.

"How about 'please'?" you managed, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small smile. "Bitte."

"Bitte," you echoed, the word barely audible.

Something flashed in his eyes. Hunger, affection, and something deeper that made your heart race. "Say it again," he instructed, his hand stilling its movement.

You understood his game immediately. "Bitte," you repeated, more urgently this time.

His smile widened slightly, satisfaction evident in his expression as his hand resumed its exploration, this time venturing higher. His touch was confident but gentle, asking permission without words.

"Yes," you breathed, answering his unspoken question.

And then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hand finally moved to cup your breast over your bra. You arched into his touch, a small moan escaping into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, his kiss deepening as his thumb brushed over the fabric covering your nipple.

Your own hands weren't idle, moving to explore the firm planes of his chest through his t-shirt. You could feel the defined muscles beneath the soft cotton, the result of years of athletic training. Feeling emboldened, you tugged at the hem, silently asking for permission to remove it.

Nico broke the kiss long enough to help you, sitting up slightly and pulling the shirt over his head in one fluid motion before tossing it aside. You took a moment to admire him: the broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered freckles across his skin that you'd never noticed before.

"Schön," you said softly, using one of the few words he'd called you that seemed appropriate.

His expression softened at your use of his language. "That's my line," he replied, reaching to touch your face with gentle fingers. "Du bist wunderschön."

"What does that mean?" you asked, leaning into his touch.

"You are beautiful," he translated, his eyes never leaving yours.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned forward to press your lips to his collarbone, then moved higher to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear that you'd discovered during your earlier make-out sessions. He inhaled sharply, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

"Your turn," he murmured, tugging lightly at the bottom of your shirt.

You nodded, allowing him to help you remove it. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, but they were quickly replaced by warmth as Nico's hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer again.

His kisses became more insistent, trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

"How do you say 'more'?" you asked breathlessly.

"Meh," he replied against your skin, the word followed by a gentle nip that made you gasp.

"Meh," you repeated, and felt him smile against your neck before he continued his exploration, his mouth moving lower to the swell of your breasts above your bra.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, but he paused, looking up to meet your eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You appreciated his care, his constant checking in. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him, his consideration, his respect, his unwillingness to assume.

"Yes," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Ja."

He unhooked your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your arms and setting it aside. There was reverence in his gaze as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup your breasts with gentle pressure.

"Beautiful," he whispered, this time in English.

You felt a flush spread across your chest and up to your cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in it, only warmth at the naked admiration in his eyes. He lowered his head, replacing one of his hands with his mouth, and you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

His tongue circled your nipple before taking it between his lips, the gentle suction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, encouraging him.

"Nico," you breathed, his name a prayer on your lips.

He hummed in response, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation. His free hand wasn't idle, moving to give your other breast equal attention, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in rhythm with his mouth.

The dual stimulation was intoxicating, but you wanted more. Your hands moved down his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath warm skin as he moved. You traced the ridge of his spine, then moved lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

He lifted his head from your breast, eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough.

You considered using one of the Swiss German phrases he'd taught you, but in this moment, you wanted complete clarity. "I want to feel you," you said simply. "All of you."

His expression grew serious, though the hunger in his eyes didn't diminish. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush anything."

The care in his question made your heart swell. Three weeks wasn't a very long time, but in those weeks, you'd spent nearly every free moment that he had together. You'd talked for hours, shared meals, watched games, exchanged stories about your lives. There had been countless kisses, increasingly heated make-out sessions, but you'd both been content to take things slowly. Until now.

"I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "I want this. I want you."

He turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, the gesture unexpectedly tender amidst the heat of the moment. "I want you too," he replied, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "But we go at your pace, okay? You tell me if you want to stop, anytime."

"I will," you promised.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then leaned down to capture your lips again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. His hands moved to your waist, then lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He looked at you again, a silent question, and you nodded.

With careful movements, he unbuttoned your jeans and helped you shimmy out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes traveled over your body with appreciation, but there was also something protective in his gaze.

"Your turn," you said, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants.

He helped you, pushing them down and kicking them off. Now both of you were down to your underwear, the thin fabrics the only barrier between you. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that you affected him so strongly was intoxicating.

His hand moved to your hip, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Please," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Bitte."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at your use of Swiss German. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he slid your underwear down your legs, his touch leaving trails of fire on your skin. Once they were removed, he took a moment just to look at you, his expression a mix of desire and something that looked remarkably like awe.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."

"You're just you," you replied simply, reaching for him. "That's more than enough."

He came willingly into your arms, his body covering yours, the weight of him a delicious pressure. You could feel every inch where your skin touched his, chest to chest, hip to hip, legs tangled together. His hand moved between your bodies, fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, then lower, seeking permission in your eyes before venturing further.

You nodded, your breath catching as his fingers found your core, exploring with gentle curiosity. He watched your face intently, learning what made your breath hitch, what made your back arch, what drew sounds of pleasure from your throat.

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

His eyes darkened at your use of his language, and he leaned down to comply, his kiss hungry and deep as his fingers continued their skilled movements. You were lost in sensation, the world narrowing to just this, his touch, his taste, the weight of him above you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes were serious. "Do you want to continue?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

"Yes," you nodded without hesitation. "Do you have...?"

"Protection? Yes," he confirmed, reaching toward the nightstand drawer.

You took the opportunity to help him remove his boxers, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him fully naked. He was beautiful. All lean muscle and smooth skin, his body a testament to years of athletic discipline.

He retrieved a condom from the drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with practiced movements. Then he was hovering over you again, his weight supported on his forearms on either side of your head, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked one more time, his voice gentle.

The care in his question made your heart swell. "I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "Ich will dich," you added, using the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

A groan escaped him at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he positioned himself. "Tell me if you need me to stop," he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he began to push forward, entering you with carefully slow. The sensation was intense, and you focused on your breathing, on relaxing, on the feeling of him gradually filling you.

When he was fully seated, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing as uneven as your own. "Okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice despite the strain of holding still.

"More than okay," you assured him, shifting your hips slightly to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "You can move."

He started slowly, with gentle, measured thrusts that allowed both of you to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of discomfort, but all he would find was pleasure building with each movement.

Gradually, as your body relaxed and welcomed him, his pace increased. Your hands moved to his back, feeling the play of muscles as he moved above you, within you. The room filled with the sounds of your combined breathing, occasional moans, and the rustle of sheets.

"Okay?" he asked again, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.

"Yes," you gasped, arching to meet his thrusts. "Don't stop—Hör nicht auf."

His rhythm faltered momentarily at your use of Swiss German, a groan escaping him. "You're killing me," he muttered, but there was affection in his tone beneath the desire.

He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars exploded behind your eyelids as he hit a spot deep within you that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. "There," you breathed, "right there."

Understanding immediately, he maintained the angle, his thrusts becoming more purposeful. One of his hands moved between your bodies, finding the bundle of nerves at your center, circling with just the right pressure.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation.

"Nico," you gasped, feeling the tension coiling tighter.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice strained but reassuring. "Let go. I want to see you."

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and fingers, pushed you over the edge. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching against his as you cried out his name. He worked you through it, his movements slowing but not stopping, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

As you came down from your high, you became aware of his still-rigid length inside you, of the tension in his muscles as he held himself in check. You reached up to touch his face, bringing his eyes to meet yours.

"Your turn," you said softly, clenching around him.

A groan tore from his throat, his control visibly slipping. "Are you sure? I can—"

"I want to feel you," you cut him off, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Let go."

Something in your eyes must have convinced him, because with a shuddering breath, he began to move again, his rhythm more urgent now. You watched his face, fascinated by the play of emotions: pleasure, concentration, and something deeper that made your heart race.

His movements became more erratic, his breathing harsh, and you knew he was close. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down so that your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest.

"Ich will dich," you whispered in his ear, remembering how strongly he'd reacted to you speaking his language earlier.

The effect was immediate. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips jerking against yours as he found his release. You held him through it, hands stroking his back, murmuring encouragement as he shuddered above you.

For a long moment afterward, neither of you moved, content to stay connected, his weight a pleasant pressure, his breath warm against your neck. Finally, he shifted, carefully separating from you and moving to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.

When he returned, he immediately gathered you back into his arms, pulling the rumpled sheets over both of your cooling bodies. You settled against his chest, listening to the gradually slowing beat of his heart, feeling utterly content.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft in the dim room.

You nodded against his chest. "More than okay."

His hand moved to stroke your hair, gentle and soothing. "That was..." he seemed to search for the right word.

"Amazing?" you supplied, tilting your head to look at him.

He smiled, the expression soft and genuine. "Amazing," he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "But I meant what happened between us. It's not just physical for me."

The vulnerability in his admission made your heart swell. "It's not just physical for me either," you assured him, reaching up to touch his face. "I really care about you, Nico."

His eyes softened at your words. "I care about you too," he replied, his accent thicker with emotion. "Very much."

You settled back against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. Outside, Newark continued its evening bustle, car horns honking and sirens wailing in the distance. But in here, in the soft glow of Edison bulbs, there was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and newfound intimacy.

"Teach me one more phrase," you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, his voice rumbling beneath your ear.

You thought for a moment. "How do you say 'stay with me'?"

He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "Blieb bi mir."

You repeated it, looking up to meet his eyes as you did. "Blieb bi mir."

His expression was tender as he looked down at you. "As long as you'll have me," he promised, pulling you closer.

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[elysiuminfra]

i want to talk about walmart for a second. if you haven’t worked or known someone who worked for walmart, you probably don’t know how bad it is. most people don’t, so i want to talk about it.

there’s a points system for absences. if you miss work, and can’t cover it with accrued time off (because you don’t just Get time off - it builds up over time. it takes about a month of straight work to get a day off.) you get a point. five points and you’re at risk of termination. all managers - team leads, and above them, coaches - have the power to excuse points so that you don’t get fired. some do, so you don’t lose your job. most don’t. five days, that’s it.

if you miss more than three shifts of work due to a medical issue, you have to go through a third party company (which isn’t really third party.) to get a medical exception so you don’t lose your job. it is hard to get this. they need a lot of documentation to prove that you somehow deserved to miss work. they don’t accept regular doctors notes. this is somehow nebulously legal. you are also forced to work while sick and infectious. flu, strep, covid, doesnt matter for all departments except produce and deli. even then, they only send you home if you throw up *at work* or have food-related illnesses. every other department you’re not allowed to go home. more than likely you are being exposed to someone who’s sick at walmart, because its either come in sick or get fired.

i work hard. everyone *has* to work hard. you are on your feet 8 hours a day. you can’t sit. there are no surfaces to sit on. some departments are harder than others. i worked in OPD, the online grocery fulfillment department. i would walk, bare minimum, 7 to 8 miles a day, hauling sometimes over 200 pounds of groceries. every day. now i work in the deli. you are constantly moving. this is very typical for the deli - you are given too many tasks to perform in one day. most days i can barely get enough done. i know people don’t take their legally entitled second breaks. I know people who have to work off the clock just to get everything done. my department - as is *most other departments* - is understaffed. i cook, clean, work the slicer, and dispense food at the same time. and trust me when i tell you the standards of cleanliness in my department is high, but in practice it is very, very poor. simply because there is usually only one of us working back there, and we just can’t do everything right all at once.

none of the “fresh” food in the bakery / produce area is fresh. the bread is baked in store, but the dough is made and frozen elsewhere. sometimes it’s been frozen for weeks. everything is shockingly artificial. same with produce. you’re better off buying your produce elsewhere, or even locally. walmart has been fraught with recall after recall.

people are cheated out of retirements. so many people I know that are at retirement age simply can’t. there are people working here in their 70s. they are being overworked. there are a lot of teenagers that work up front. they are being overworked. I know two kids who are disabled that work the register. they aren’t allowed to sit. one had to fight to be able to get a medical accommodation and only got one when he threatened to sue, because not taking a doctor’s note for an accommodation is illegal. they do it anyways. there are so many people i know personally that are disabled, have chronic pain, have mobility issues, and can’t sit. or walk miles and miles a day. one of my coworkers recently quit because she tore both rotator cuffs in her shoulders from this job. this job disables you. it kills you. (just look up how many people have died on the job due to negligence. it is not a small amount.)

even the prices are fake. sales are fake. rollback is fake. i notice how things are priced and they rarely change, even when they say they’re on sale. it’s a scam. you are being scammed.

we are overworked and underpaid for our labor. (speaking of, wages used to be higher by several dollars a couple years ago. they lowered them. my department paid 20 an hour. it only pays 16 now. almost all other departments are at a flat 14. it used to be 16.)

wage theft, lack of breaks, overtime violations, lack of sick leave, chronic understaffing and chronic abuse from management, not terminating employees that sexually harass coworkers, and piles and piles and piles of responsibilities. all of this is to say, walmart only operates because of how much they exploit their workers, and it’s in the top of the Fortune 500 list. it is impossibly dire. and it is in EVERY SINGLE store, because that is just how the work culture operates.

all salaried management is also given guides on union busting. unionization is impossible. there was one store that they completely shut down because of successful unionization efforts, laying off hundreds of people, and blamed it on “faulty plumbing.”

one last thing - if you are assaulted by a customer, you cannot defend yourself. nobody can help you, because none of us are allowed to put our hands in any capacity on a customer. if you are assaulted, you have no choice but to run and hide. I’ve heard of a worker at my store that was assaulted repeatedly over several days from people who would come in and beat her. they weren’t banned, and she was fired for fighting back. if you fight back, you’re fired immediately, no exceptions.

all of this is to say shop elsewhere. buy locally. buy at other stores. you will get better quality items and produce literally ANYWHERE else. if you can’t, be kind to Walmart workers. theres abuse at every step of the chain. even on the supply side. walmart is a corporate dystopian monster that only makes its money off of intense labor violations.

tl;dr don’t shop at walmart. it’s not worth it

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || Ch. 33]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s while Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

|| Trigger Warning: Graphic Descriptions Body Horror & Death Regarding Unnamed Children ||

All your life you have heard that there is a beauty in chaos, and while you do agree with this, you also find there is a beauty in organization. 

You like taking all the chaos and putting it into categories. You like sorting the details and finding the mysteries that need to be unraveled. You think it must be similar to how clever people feel when they solve a riddle or a puzzle, but you aren’t running in circles with philosophical thoughts - you are analyzing what is already available and coming to a conclusion. 

It is still all chaos, because everything is always chaos, but it is organized into a way that makes sense. 

And Matt’s stolen duffel bag, when first unzipped and inspected, was full of chaos. 

You, Foggy, and Karen quickly got to work looking over the different papers and forming different stacks based upon agreed parameters. 

It became clear Matt’s guess that he had found some sort of laboratory was correct. The papers all appeared to be results of different medical tests, though at first glance, the three of you could not decipher for what.

But deciphering wasn’t needed at that moment, so it didn’t matter, and once everything was spread neatly across the dining table, the next step of your beloved process began. 

Foggy gave each pile a designation and then the three of you began labeling each paper in the top corner. 

A1. A2. A3. A4. 

B1. B2. B3. B4. 

All your analyzing would be useless if you couldn’t source your data, and it was quickly clear your little group all shared the same brain cell when it came to this idea.

While you worked at the table, Matt and Jessica sat on the floor by the couches, marking up a map. You caught snippets of the conversation - this bit of evidence was heard in that alley, to get to a certain tunnel system you had to go through such and such warehouse. It was fascinating to know that Matt had memorized nearly every square inch of Hell’s Kitchen - even the parts you didn’t know existed - and it was equally amazing that Jessica knew just as much. 

After hearing them talk, it left you wondering if Frank had the same knowledge, but you would leave that question for another time. He had been assigned to the two thumb drives that had been in the duffel bag. You had furiously taken mental notes as he had grumpily explained to Matt the little devices couldn’t just be plugged into a computer. They could have malware on them or trigger tracking or something equally devious and needed to be inserted into a clean laptop that couldn’t connect to the internet. That way, if the laptop tried to send a signal or became a brick, there would be nothing lost. 

Since neither you nor Matt happened to have a spare laptop laying around, Frank went to go procure one. 

That was about half an hour ago and now you are well into your third Foggy-assigned task - highlighting any identifying information in yellow. There’s nothing easy like names or addresses listed out, but you noticed a pattern for patient labels and have determined there are at least five. 

As you jot down that Patient 031517DVA also appears on page D4 in your notebook, you find you are enjoying yourself. This isn’t exactly what you imagined when Matt talked about inviting everyone over to review what he had found, but you think it is nice. Knowing that Matt isn’t out there running around without any sort of plan soothes your nerves and seeing that he is putting in the time and thought into his next actions makes you trust he knows what he is doing. 

No one wants a shady underground lab in their neighborhood, but you need to make sure they are actually shady first and not some weird fringe group researching an unknown breed of sewer rat.

The effort going into helping Matt with this task makes your fondness of Foggy, Karen, and Frank grow even more - and gives you a fondness for Jessica. Everyone is serious about their task, and extremely thorough, and you want them to see you in the same light. You know this is not a game and you refuse to let your part in the research be the weak link. 

As you go to the next row of numbers to examine, you catch some movement in the corner of your eye. You turn your head and watch with a soft smile as your daughter emerges from Matt’s bedroom, clad in her mouse-onesie pajamas. Her sleep mask is pulled down around her neck and she looks upset, but she’s not crying, so you don’t jump to run to her. You let her make her own decisions as she sleepily looks between you and her father and you can’t help but to mentally crow a bit as she starts shuffling towards you, her little mouse-tail trailing behind her. 

Everyone’s attention is on you as Minnie lifts up her arms to be picked up once she’s within a foot of you. You dutifully scoop her up and put her on your lap, fixing her hood and mouse-ears as you do. 

“Is everything okay, sweetheart? Did something wake you up?”

She nods, then flops herself against your chest, mumbling out, “There’s monsters.” 

You begin to gently rub her back, hoping to soothe her worries as you confirm, “there’s monsters?”

Again, her head bobs up and down before she nuzzles into your neck, trying to hide herself. Across the room, Matt is up and making his way towards you, but it is Foggy who speaks up next. 

“Are they silly monsters or scary monsters?”

You smile at the question as Minnie ponders it - her little lips purse against your neck and you feel her breath against your skin as she silently repeats the words. She decides on ‘scary’ - replying in a timid voice as Matt takes his place behind you, sliding his hands onto your shoulders.

“Do you want me to help you tell them to go away?” you ask, having packed your bottle of Monster Repellent for just this cause. Little fists clutch tightly at your shirt as Mouse shakes her head and you give a soft hum in thought. “Do you want Daddy to go scare them off?”

You are sure Matt would run outside to chase away a stray cat or hungry raccoon if his princess wished for it, but she shakes her head against you, so you guess Matt will be staying inside. 

“How about we make the monsters silly instead of scary?” is Karen’s suggestion, and like the others, it falls flat. 

You consider offering to read some stories, but Matt startles you from your thoughts by sliding his hands down your arms to get to his daughter. He gently urges her to let go of you before transferring her to his arms and bundling her close. She absolutely clings to him, looking so tiny against his broad shoulders.

“I got this,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper before he turns and starts making his way back to the bedroom. As you watch him walk away, he buries his nose into her hood, and he begins to rock with each step. The itty bitty fist you can still see tightens around his t-shirt and your heart yearns to follow your family, but you know this is a Daddy-Daughter moment and you need to stay seated. 

You were worried about Minnie getting scared over sleeping in a new place - there’s so many new and different noises but you trust Matt to help her interpet everything. He’s already done such an amazing job of it in day-to-day life and you know he’ll explain away all her monsters and let her know she is safe. 

Considering the company she is starting to keep she is probably the safest little girl in New York. No monsters would dare to lurk in her shadows less they want to face the wrath of the Devil.

You know that this little group you are becoming a part of would join you in jumping in front of a bullet for your daughter and you are pretty sure even her newest best friend - Max the Dog - would not hesitate to bare his teeth if someone upset her. 

She deserves nothing less and it makes your heart soar that she is so thoroughly adored. 

Now that her research partner is on another important assignment, Jessica gets up off the floor and strolls over to the table, “anything interesting?”

“Maybe if we were scientists instead of lawyers,” Foggy replies warily, dropping his pink highlighter in favor of nursing his beer, “and knew what any of these numbers meant. We’re going to spend all night looking up these test numbers and hoping they are real. I mean, look at this,” he motions to the paper he is currently working on. “What the hell is D22S1045? And why is the result 15?”

Jessica takes one look at the paper before scrunching up her nose and blandly stating, “It’s a DNA marker. Haven’t you ever seen a paternity test?”

Foggy’s face goes slack for a moment before he is huffing, “Not since college when we had to study paternity suits, and they looked nothing like this! They were like dots we had to match, not numbers!” He uses his beer to point to you, “did yours look like this?”

Your cheeks heat up at the question and you duck your head, hating all the attention is on you with such a personal question. “No. No, mine didn’t…we just received a letter with the results. Not the data.”

“So, they are doing DNA and blood tests?” Karen asks, taking over the conversation and directing it back to Jessica. “And comparing them with each other. Could they be looking for relationships between them?” 

“I’m not a fucking doctor,” is the reply she gets, but Jessica picks up the paper to examine it more closely either way. “But none of these match. The numbers have to be the same for a parental match, but that might not be what they are looking for. Just because it looks like a paternity test doesn’t mean it is one. DNA markers are used in a lot of shit.”

“It might not be human,” you add quietly. “Matt said the lab smelled of human blood, but we don’t know that these tests are on humans. There’s no dates on these, so they could be years old.”

Karen whips out her phone and is typing away before you are done talking, “What was that DNA marker, Fog?”

Foggy repeats the string of numbers and letters and you watch Karen’s eyes scan her screen.

“It’s human,” she states after a long, tense moment. The scowl Jessica gives is near legendary.

“Great, so we have a bunch of assholes in abandoned tunnels running tests on people.”

“That sounds both sanitary and humane,” Foggy grumbles before throwing back the rest of his beer. 

“OSHA and FDA approved,” you add sarcastically and that earns you a smile from Karen. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before she guides you all back on track.

“We still have no idea what they are looking for, though. This could be cancer research for all we know - we are still at square one.”

“One point five,” Foggy argues, “we confirmed it’s human.”

“We don’t know what the tests are looking for,” Karen repeats, ignoring him, “and I don’t think looking up the significance of each DNA marker is going to do us much good. Can you and Matt go back to the lab and look around?”

As the clear recipient of the question, Jessica huffs then turns away from the table and goes right to the bottle of Macallan Matt keeps on top of his fridge. She pops off the lid, taking a long drink of it before answering. 

“That was the plan, but I’m betting it’s going to be sprayed with bleach after knowing Devil-boy was poking around. It’s not like we will get much, not that there was shit to get beforehand.”

“So, we have no who, no why, and no where,” Foggy points out. “We are doing great.”

The joy you had gotten from trying to organize the chaos of paperwork evaporates and you sink down into your chair a little. Would continuing to highlight and document be useful or was this all for naught? The rational part of your brain told you to keep going, because it was better to have it done and not need it then to need it later and it still be a mess of paperwork.

“We’ve just started, Fog, of course we have nothing,” Karen says, rolling her eyes a bit as she does. “Did you expect them to write their plans in gel pens and leave them lying around?”

“I mean, that would be useful.”

You roll your lip between your teeth, thinking that Karen is right. You don’t have much, and you’ve only just started - of course things look pessimistic. While Karen and Foggy begin to banter back and forth about the use of gel pens in a professional setting and Jessica finishes off Matt’s whisky, you let your mind wander around the facts of the case. 

Someone is out there running medical tests in a gross underground lab, probably trying to hide what they are doing. To do a lot of tests, they probably needed lab equipment, and a few years ago you would have said to follow that trail, but with all the advancements in technology, a machine to run DNA tests on probably only cost a few hundred dollars and was compact enough to move easily. Generators could keep people off the grid and there were enough tunnels under the city that years could be spent exploring them. Everything they would need could be ordered offline, and thus, was untraceable to you.

The only solid clues you had were what Matt had come home with, so you needed to keep digging there and hope that the thumb drives would contain something more useful. 

So, you pick yourself back up, grab your highlighter, and get back to work. 

Soon enough, Foggy and Karen pick their highlighters back up as well, and Jessica takes up a spot on the couch, putting her feet up and getting out her phone to tap at. The mood is much more somber, but you feel the same determination to find answers that is in you coming off of everyone else as well. 

You don’t pay attention to the passage of time, but it is not long after you grab the final stack of papers to comb through that Matt slips out of the bedroom and closes the door behind him. 

He starts towards the dining table only to stop by the couch, tilting his head towards Jessica, “That bottle was a gift from Foggy’s dad.”

“Boo-hoo, cry me a fucking river, Murdock.”

Despite the venom in Jessica’s voice, Matt chuckles and finishes making his way to you. 

His hands once again find your shoulders and he begins rubbing them, digging his thumbs into just the right spot as he begins his Minnie-update.

“Someone with a really nice sound system is having a horror movie marathon. She was actually hearing monsters.”

“My poor baby,” you instantly coo, your heart breaking for your little one. “Did you tell her it was just a movie?”

Matt hums in affirmation, “That doesn’t help with the noise, though. We walked through turning things off and found something to work as white noise. It’s still hard for her to do it with new sounds, especially so tired, but she’s a quick learner.”

“How long did it take you to learn all that stuff,” Foggy asks, interest clear in his eyes. Karen puts her pen down as well so she can get the gossip. 

“I don’t know, years? It didn’t come naturally to me like it does with her - I would train for hours to be able to pinpoint something, but she can do it pretty easily. I mean, she can’t tell me exact distance because she’s four and doesn’t know what that means, but she can point and say if it’s close or far.” You can feel Matt practically puff up with Pride over his baby girl. “She’s learning inorganic versus organic sounds now. She can tell if a loud banging is someone hitting something or if something just fell over. The other day she told me it was the wind making the window shake, because she couldn’t hear any other noises around the window.”

You smile at the story, having a feeling Matt is going to start going on about all the declarations Minnie had made during the storm and you don’t mind at all. 

“So, she’s as good as you?” Karen teases and you know Matt is just beaming.

“Better. She can actually read a sign.”

Foggy barks with laughter while you and Karen have to cover your mouths to not giggle. 

Once it subsides, you tilt your head back so you can look up at your daughter’s oh so loving father, bumping against his abdomen as you do, “is she down?” 

He gives another positive hum, “In a nice deep sleep. Frank’s on his way back up and I wanted her out before he got here.”

You don’t know if that is from Matt wanting to rejoin the group to know what is on the thumb drives or if it is from him not wanting Minnie to get excited over Frank, but you are thankful she’s conked out either way. The thought of her hearing all your discussions about what lurks in the darkness of the city makes your stomach turn. 

She doesn’t need more monsters to imagine. 

You thank Matt while reaching up to rub one of his arms - letting yourself give him a small bit of affection. You ignore the look Karen is giving you in favor of making sure Matt is all caught up.

“I take it you heard everything?”

He sighs deeply through his nose, and you take that as a ‘yes’. He confirms with his words. 

“Human testing with government trained agents isn’t what I was hoping we would find.”

“I was personally hoping for research on the mutant alligators in the sewers,” Foggy says as he gets up to go towards the kitchen, probably for another beer. “You know the ones they flush down the toilets.” 

“That’s a myth, Fog.”

“Look, with everything else that goes on in the world - weird aliens and giant green men - let me believe in my sewer gators, Murdock. They make me happy.”

“With everything that Stark and Roxon dumped in the waters, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Karen muses, resting her chin in her hand, “I mean, Matt got superpowers from something getting in his eyes. If a rat ate something that was contaminated, it could have gotten super senses as well.” 

You raise your brows up at the idea, a smile coming to your face, “a crime fighting rat?”

“A crime fighting rat that is a ninja,” Foggy chimes, a wide grin on his face and it sends you into giggles.

“How would a rat even learn martial arts?” Matt counters, “There’s not a rodent karate school he could spy on.”

“I don’t know Matt, how did you learn ka-ra-te,” Foggy emphasizes the word to make it sound more mystical. “He would learn from a secret ninja rat clan.”

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Jessica asks, looking over her shoulder at the dining table, disgust and confusion clear on her face. 

You and Karen erupt into more laughter while Foggy just grins like he won the world cup as he returns to his seat. Matt gives your shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go and pulling away. He disappears into the narrow passage that is his hallway, and you hear the front door open. Heavy boots signal Frank’s reappearance, and when he and Matt come back around the corner, you offer a small smile. 

The Punisher holds up a clunky looking laptop, straight from your middle school years, “Got it.”

“Does that thing even work?” Foggy asks, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. You trust Frank, but the question is valid - if you saw that in a Goodwill, you would doubt it would even turn on. 

“Of course it works,” Frank scoffs as he delivers the device to Karen. She instantly opens it up to get it started. “Old body, new hardware. Got it built just for this type of shit.” 

Foggy’s lips twitch and you wonder if he wants to say something but is holding his tongue. Jessica joins the table as Matt once again returns to standing behind you. His hands find your shoulders like they are drawn to them, and you wonder if he can’t help but want to touch you. It makes you feel special and wanted and your belly stirs with a certain type of warmth. 

Everyone’s focus is on Karen as she works - the laptop boots up and she fiddles with the first thumb drive until it is ready to be inserted. It feels like you all are holding your breath as she finally plugs it in. You expect there to be a password, but apparently there is not, as she just clicks away.

“There’s two files,” she narrates. “One labeled 082616DUK and one labeled 121417BNY.” 

You instantly recognize the first designation and push your notebook towards Karen, trying to not sound eager as you tell her, “The DUK one is in our files. Can we look at that first?” 

Her face lights up at the prospect of a connection and selects the requested file, “There’s five pictures. Hold on, let me bring them u- Oh my God.”

The little color in her face drains as a horrified expression takes over and her hand shoots up to cover her mouth. You and Froggy scramble up out of your seats while Frank and Jessica crowd around Karen to look at the screen. Matt stays where he is, tilting his head just slightly. 

When you see what is in the file, you wish you had stayed under Matt’s hands. 

The neatly severed head of a boy stares back at you with blank milky eyes, sitting on an examine table. His hair has been shaved away and there is an incision line around his skull that makes it clear someone has probably removed his brain. His mouth is open in a silent scream, showing off that he still had his baby teeth and that someone has taken his tongue. 

You want to throw up and you want to turn away, but you can’t. You can’t look away from this poor child who someone has so thoroughly defiled. Who had done this to this boy and why? You wanted to shake them and scream and demand to know what could possibly possess someone to do this to a baby? Because this was someone’s baby - someone’s little boy - and someone had taken him and ruined him. 

You don’t know how she manages it, but Karen brings up the next image and it fills you with just as much disgust and anger. 

It is that of a tiny hand with its fingers forcibly splayed, stuck with pins to keep it that way. The tips are bulbous and round, different to anything you’ve seen on a human before, and between each digit, there was a thin stretch of skin connecting them, much like the webbing of a duck’s foot. Like the head, the hand has been surgically removed from the rest of the body, and it isn’t hard to determine they go to the same person. 

The next image is of the head again but turned to be facing the left and pre-removal of the tongue, as the appendage is pulled and stretched from the mouth with a pair of forceps. The muscle is an odd shade of purple and coated with some sort of liquidy-white residue, but that is not what is unique about it. The boy’s tongue doesn’t just peek out of his mouth - it extends across the table almost three feet, if the tape measurer under it is to be believed. 

You need to turn away after that and to no surprise, Matt is instantly by your side, wrapping you up in his arms and guiding your head to his neck. “He’s just a baby,” you whisper in horror as you cling to him, not understanding how someone could be so cruel. Even if he had died naturally, there was no reason to treat him like that in death. 

“Did they…” Froggy starts, his voice low and quivering and you don’t know if it's from rage or grief, “Did they make him a frog? Did they mix this kid with a fucking frog?”

“No,” Frank replies, not hiding how he is feeling at all. The fury is clear in his voice. “They did it because he was like that.”

“What’s the other file?” Jessica demands and part of you doesn’t want to know. You bury yourself more into Matt and you listen to Karen click away at the track pad. 

Matt’s arms tighten around you and you can’t imagine what he is thinking. No one has said out loud what the images show, and he has not asked - but he must know it isn’t good. He’s gone tense under you, like he’s ready to jump into action and rip someone apart with his hands. 

And you want him to. You want Matt to find whoever did this and make them pay. You want him to punish those who hurt the child in the photos, the people who ran tests on him. 

You want to help Matt find who did this and for him to make sure they can never hurt anyone ever again.

“She’s…she’s got a beak.” Karen says slowly after a few moments, and you can’t bear to look at another autopsy photo. You hide yourself more against Matt, not at all ashamed of your choice.

“She’s Enhanced,” is Jessica’s reply, almost blank with stifled emotion.

“She’s a kid. They are hunting Enhanced kids.” 

“Why?” Foggy questions, sounding wet, like he’s starting to tear up. You don’t blame him in any way. “Why would they do that?”

Under you, the Devil finally speaks, his voice low and eerily calm, “it doesn’t matter why. We are going to find them, and we are going to stop them.” 

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[priyajoyy]

Devil wears prada part 2

Dark!lottie Matthews x reader x dark!shauna shipman x dark!jackie taylor x dark!natalie scatorcio

this is just a bunch of story building cause if I fit meeting Lottie into this part it would be way too long im sorry

Warnings:

Dark characters, power imbalance, toxic workplace, mental health problems, fat shaming, beauty standards, etc (more in later parts)

“Now you’ll technically be reporting to me, I’m situated on the 24thth floor where you’ll spend most of your time, though it really depends on where you’re needed” Mari told you as she guided you towards the elevator once again.

You’d viewed the offices on the 15th floor, which Mari had told you, you would sometimes need to go to on the odd occasion. You were now on your way up to one of the higher floors.

“If you need anything you can come to me, though the other secretaries are very friendly so I’m sure they’ll be happy to help.” She continued, “you report to anyone above you really, you’re not anyone’s personal assistant so they can all use you when necessary”

The elevator dings and the doors finally open. And Mari wastes no time, walking straight through the offices.

“The likelihoods are you’ll only be dealing with lower-level management, because the others have their own girls for their important stuff so it will never be anything too difficult.” 

Everyone was dressed so nicely; you were certain you were going to have to splurge on a new wardrobe of much nicer workwear when you got home.

“Miss taylor is in the big corner office of this floor and Mr Martinez is in the other corner, they’re the ones you’re most likely to be working with. Well, more likely their personal secretaries, Laura lee and robin” she tells you.

“This is miss Taylors office” she says as you reach one of the roomier ones, with fancy glass walls and a desk in front of it with a blonde sat at it.

“This is Laura lee, Laura lee this is the new hire, miss y/n y/l/n” Mari told the girl, who smiled at you brightly in return, standing to shake your hand.

“Hi!” she says cheerfully, she seemed like the nicest person you’d met here yet.

“Laura lee here deals with all of miss Taylors stuff, her personal Calander, meetings and such, you’ll have access to most of the head execs calendars on the system, though you won’t be able to adjust anything, so if you do need to, bring it up with Laura lee here” Mari tells you, and you nod along, trying to take mental note of all the information she tells you.

She then takes off in another direction, not so much as saying goodbye to Laura lee, who you quickly chuck a wave before trailing after Mari.

The older woman’s heels click against the floor as you both make your way back towards the main area of the floor, leading you towards a trio of desks that greeted you as you exited the elevator.

“And this will be your desk” she told you, gesturing the empty one of the three in front of you, “feel free to organise it however you want but we like to keep work areas clear and uncluttered at all times so please don’t…mess it up”

You weren’t really sure what you’d have to go on it other than some pens, a notepad and your laptop, but you nodded along to her request anyway.

“you’ll start officially on Monday, I’ll send you over some of our policies I need you to look over and sign, I’ll also send you everything else you need to know, attire rules, scheduling, so on” she listed off, to which you yet again nodded along to.

As soon as you got home, you were already scowering online sites for new clothes. Given you hadn’t been paid yet it was a little tricky to get anything too expensive, so you had to settle for some simpler choices. Though you were sure you’d have another search on your next payday.

You friend, insisted on taking you shopping that weekend, dragging you along to a million stores to try on expensive outfits and shoes you could barely walk in.

You weren’t exactly a hater of fashion. You thought you looked pretty presentable from day to day. But you were definitely used to much simpler clothes, more comfortable and plainer. Definitely not the designer blouses and skirts she had you trying on and buying.

By the end of it, you had a collection of new clothes in your wardrobe or on the way, and a dangerously low bank account, verging on entering your overdraft.

By Sunday you’d already planned out your outfits for the week, ironed all of them to perfection and prepped your lunch for Monday and Tuesday. Knowing you didn’t have the money after your little shopping spree to be buying lunch, even if it did make you look a little silly…

By the end of it you were running out of things to so and prep really for the week to take your mind off the nerves you were feeling. So, you spent the time trying to forget and watching tv, failing miserably at both.

Mari had sent you a collection of emails as soon as you had left on Friday. Consisting of your contracts as well as log ins to different systems and lists of responsibilities.

You’re main role was helping guests and staff from other departments from the front desk of the floor you’d be at. Greeting them and helping with their problems. You were glad you weren’t likely to have to interact with the head management often. The idea of dealing with them seeming terrifying.

“morning” you squeaked out nervously to the girl at the front desk yet again, this time a different girl greeting you, seeming more friendly than the one you had encountered last week.

You had worn something nicer for your first proper day, a smart looking grey pencil skirt and light pink blouse with your nicest shoes, trying to make a good impression. Yet you still felt inferior stood in front of the gorgeous ginger sat at the front desk. 

“Um I’m y/n? Mari Ibarra said you’d be expecting me for a keycard…” you told her nervously, to which she nodded and looked at her computer.

“of course,” she said with a reassuring smile, looking back up and standing to turning to grab something from a draw nearby, “this will get you into the building each morning and activate the elevator to take you to all floors except 7 and 15, they don’t require special access”

She hands you a grey lanyard, with a keycard hanging from it, a picture of you and your name and info staring back at you from it.

“you’ll also need it for photocopying, printing and such, you won’t tend to need to access any special rooms, or anything so don’t worry too much, but any you do need to…and have access to, will open with this too” she continues.

You nod along to her, taking it from her grasp and smiling nervously. She must have noticed your nerves because she continued.

“don’t be nervous, it’s all quite easy really, and the girls upstairs are nice enough” she tells you, a pretty tilt to her head as she does, “you should head up now, Mari will be waiting for you on the 24th floor”

Taglist:

@theoreticalfreak @nats-w1fe @clairvoyantstuff @modernvenuss @moonyxstars

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x GN reader

All cramped up

Shadow finds the one thing he can’t fix for you

Warnings: reader is on period, severe menstrual cramps, mentions of nausea, hurt/comfort

Note: so a fun (not really) fact about me is I suffer from debilitating menstrual cramps to the point where I can (very rarely) lose my ability to stand so this is based off of that

“I’m sorry honey I can’t go out tonight I’m not feeling well”

As you sent the text you felt a wave of guilt and frustration wash over you. Once again your body had decided to ruin plans and upend your life and for what?

The scraping in your lower abdomen continued as you waited for the ibuprofen to kick in you waited a half an hour, then an hour still nothing.

You clutched the heating pad close hoping it could soothe the cramp that you so desperately needed relief from. not caring weather or not it was starting to burn, so far it was the only kind of relief you could feel.

Just then you heard a knock at the door. You were too tired to move so you figured you could ignore it. let whoever was on the other side think you weren’t home , but then they knocked again.

Your phone chimed a text from Shadow appearing on the screen.

“Let me in I’m here to take care of you”

You heaved a sigh you should have known that he would be coming, he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone, even if he didn’t quite know that you weren’t suffering from any illness rather a particularly cruel joke from Mother Nature.

steeling yourself you got up from your couch making your way over to the door each step more taxing than the last. eventually you made it to your door.

❤️

Shadow stood patiently at your door anxiety flooding through his system, he hated when you got sick. he always made sure to do everything in his power in order to get you healthy again and today was no different, or so he thought.

You opened the door greeting him with a soft "Hey".

much to his surprise you looked just fine, no apparent signs of any fever, no runny nose or sore throat. aside from looking a bit tired you seemed just fine.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Yah, I just don't feel like I can go out tonight."

"Are you sick? when was the last time you took any medicine?"

"Well I took some ibuprofen about an hour ago, but I'm not exactly sick."

"what do you mean?"

"Well I- it's sorta like." you seemed hesitant to answer like you were embarrassed or ashamed of what the problem was. he waited for you to continue.

but before you could give any proper answer you collapsed to the ground.

❤️

the sharp pain took your breath away like you had just been impaled the pain from your uterus now radiating through your spine forcing you to double over in pain. a bout of nausea twisted your stomach as you began to shake.

Gentle hands caught you as he called out your name panic laced throughout his voice. "Are you alright? what's going on? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, it's alright." you stated trying to clam his nerves. "trust me the hospital won't do anything."

"Why not? You're clearly suffering with something."

"Yes and that thing is having a uterus. I'm on my period." You explained through groans. "and I just so happen to suffer with really bad cramps. the most a doctor will do is send me home with some pain killers, which I already have, and tell me to do the same things I've been doing since this whole stupid thing started."

Shadow stared at you not really sure on how to proceed.

You sighed "Can we please move over to the couch I really don't want to have this conversation on the floor."

"Of course, can you stand?"

you began to rise carefully halfway up you felt a twinge of pain letting out a cry as you retreated to your previous position.

"Here let me help you." He scooped you up in his arms carrying you over to the couch.

as he carried you over you couldn't help but feel guilty. not only did you ruin his night but you caused him serious worry over you and now you were making him take care of you.

as Shadow gingerly placed you on the sofa all the frustration and guilt bubbled to the surface, tears began streaming down your face soft sobs escaping your mouth.

"I hate this" you started. "people have been doing this every day for thousands of years. going to work, living their lives, and I can't even stand up. I’m so sorry I really didn’t want to ruin your night, you already do so much for me and now this. I feel so pathetic.” Another wave of pain shot through you making you wince “I just want it to stop”

Shadow just stared at you for a moment unsure of what to do. He’s never seen you like this and it scared him. He’s seen you fight off plenty of foes, seen you sustain many injuries that you simply walked off. He never expected to see you brought down, and by your own body nonetheless.

Questions formed in his head unsure of how to ask them. Did this happen every time? How come he hasn’t seen this yet? How could he fix this?

The last question rang in his head the loudest. Memories of his past flashed through his mind, his purpose what he was created for. Was this another failure for him? Was there truly nothing he could do for you? The only thing he could do right now was watch you while you succumbed to your pain.

He had to do something but what?

Taking a breath he helped you lay down on the couch. He rested his hand on your shoulder in a gentle voice he said “it’s alright my love, just give me a minute.” He turned on your favorite show hoping it could distract you in his absence.

Exiting your apartment he called the only person he could think of.

“Hey handsome, what’s going on?”

“Rouge, it’s Y/N. I need your help” Shadow explained the situation he confessed he was in over his head and didn’t know how to proceed.

“Oh, the poor thing” Rouge commented “Alright big guy here’s what you do.”

❤️

Shadow had been gone for thirty minutes now. You felt horrible thinking you must have scared him off.

You should have explained your situation earlier before all of this happened. You thought you were getting better, your past few cycles had been manageable. You should have known better than to think the problem would go away on its own.

The next time you saw Shadow what was that going to be like. Did he think you were weak now? Did he pity you? You couldn’t stand the thought of shadow looking down on you.

Before you could spiral Shadow came through the door shopping bags in one hand and take out in the other.

He unloaded the contents of the bags onto the coffee table. Pulling out your favorite snacks and candies one by one. He brought a tub of ice cream to the freezer presumably for later. Coming back with some silverware he handed you the takeout.

“Here, I don’t know if you’ve eaten today so I got your favorite. If you don’t want it I also got some ingredients to make your favorite comfort food as well.” He pulled out a plushie in your favorite color and placed it in your arms.

“What’s this?” You asked the question being more rhetorical than anything.

“I don’t particularly enjoy them but I know you like your plush toys, you don’t already have that one do you?”

“No” you gave him a weak smile as you hugged your new squishy friend “thank you”

Shadow kissed you on the forehead climbing behind you on the couch wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to him.

“Where does it hurt?”

You guided his hand to your lower abdomen resting on the source “Right there”

Shadow delicately worked his hands on the area giving it a gentle massage, untying some of the knots left behind by your uncaring reproductive system.

“Does this help at all?”

“Actually yes, it does, a little”

“Good” he continued his gentle movements. “ I want you to know that I take care of you because I want to, you’re not a burden to me and I never want you to feel like you are. If you’re in pain let me know I won’t think any less of you for it. You are such a strong and amazing person you don’t have to hide your struggles from me.”

“Okay, I promise I’ll tell you next time”

You felt some of the tension in his body melt as you snuggled further into his arms.

“I heard that new movie you wanted to see is streaming now do you want to watch it?”

You nodded

As the movie began to play you began to feel more at ease some of the pain finally slipping away disappearing into nothingness.

“Shadow”

“Yes?”

“Thank you”

“Of course my love, anytime.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

WING IT

A/N: we are slowly getting more content, lets just hope something drops soon!

WORD COUNT: 3k

SUMMARY: It's your first day working in Selma's Home, you're nervous enough already, but when an emergency calls your boss away and you're left alone, the situation is topped when famous CEO Harry Styles casually strolls in.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It doesn’t matter that this job is just an in-between. Something that earns you money until your dream position opens. A first day is always stressful, especially when you have no idea what to do.

You were applying to dozens of jobs at once, just shooting everywhere you could, hoping to get an answer back before your rent was due. Selma’s Home was the first one to invite you for an interview and somehow, miraculously you even got the job despite the fact that you have no experience in retail. You suspect that desperation was a big factor in your hiring, because Selma lost 2 of her employees at once when the young couple that was working for her moved across the country. 

Now here you are, walking into the store, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you head down the aisles where you see Selma behind the cash register already getting ready to open.

“Hi!” you greet her, her head snapping up at your weak voice. Selma is such a fierce, kind of intimidating woman, but you can see how it helped her to open this store and make it one of the most successful home decor stores in the city, offering tasteful stylish pieces along with practical utility items for one’s home. 

“Oh, hi! Welcome to your first day, you ready?” She even cracks a smile, but somehow it just makes you gulp hard.

“Yeah, readier than ever!” you manage to squeeze out a nervous chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense your jitters.

“Alright, then let’s get started.”

With an hour until opening Selma is eager to squeeze in as much information into it as possible. She walks you through the store, talking about the most important items, but also handing you a handbook about everything that’s currently selling in the store.

“Use your downtime to roam around and you’ll learn them by the end of the week without the handbook,” she says, eyes running over the shelves as she is talking, already moving to the storage room in the back. 

She talks about the system, how to unload the new arrivals every two weeks and then you move on to the cash register, aka your biggest fear. It’s quite the stress factor to deal with money, making sure everything is neat and correct, you can only hope you won’t mess it all up.

Then the store opens and you follow around Selma to learn the ropes. What’s different here is that whenever a customer comes in you offer them help right away and if needed, you assist them throughout their whole time shopping. There are quite some designer products selling and you’ll need to know everything about them to be able to sell them to the customers just like Selma does.

She is so good at it. No matter who comes in, she so effortlessly talks them into leaving with not only what they came for, but some more as well. She is enchanting, nice, open and warm and you just keep taking notes mentally, though you don’t feel confident enough to be as charming as she can be the moment the bell rings above the door. 

When lunch rolls around you allow yourself to feel relieved for a second that you survived half the day already. Selma sends you to the back to have your lunch and you just sit in silence, staring ahead of you, mustering up all your energy for the rest of the workday. You’ve just finished your sandwich when Selma barges into the breakroom.

“Y/N, there’s a bit of an emergency.”

You jump to your feet, scenarios already running through your mind. Is there a fire? Did the storefront just collapse? Someone stole those hella expensive Japanese tablecloths? 

“What happened?”

“My daughter, she is ugh! Such a menace, she got into trouble at school, so I have to go there. I need you to cover for a bit, just an hour tops, I swear!” 

She is already grabbing her purse, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, car keys in hand while you just stand there dumbfounded. Is she actually gonna leave you alone in the store on your first day?

“Selma, I-I don’t…”

“You do, Honey. Just an hour. This is a dead time anyway, if anyone comes in, just try your best to help them and ring them up at the end. Easy, I know you can do it!”

She is storming out and you follow her like a lost puppy.

“B-But what if I mess something up?” you ask, panic setting in. 

“As long as you don’t set the store on fire, you’ll be fine. I trust you, Y/N!”

And with that, she is already gone, the bell rings above the door as you stand there like a statue. 

You watch the storefront in pure panic, your stomach dropping every time it seems like someone is approaching the shop, but no one comes in. 

Until the bell rings above the door. 

For a split second you hope it’s Selma, but looking up you see a tall, broad figure and your heart threatens to burst right out of your anxiety filled chest, at first because hello! It’s a customer! But then as he steps further into the shop and takes off his sunglasses, realization settles in. 

This is not just a regular customer, this is Harry Fucking Styles, CEO of Pleasing Productions, the studio that’s given the world the absolute best romantic movies in the past decades and the man is famously known for being a ladies favorite, but appearing as a total mystery in the media. 

You’ve read about him a lot before, it’s hard not to bump into his name online, thanks to his looks he is always somehow in talk for either having dinner with a model, appearing on the red carpet looking like a fucking snack, or, your personaly favorite, declining giving an answer to a question regarding his private life. 

And now he is standing there, looking around the store. 

It takes a couple of moments for you to push out of this frozen state and finally step forward.

“Hello!”

Wow. Did your voice actually sound like that?

Clearing your throat you keep moving towards him.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?”

You try to rake your mind to remember everything you’ve seen and heard from Selma to use now, but the moment he looks up, your mind goes blank. He is just as beautiful as he looks in pictures or maybe even more. Unlike on those red carpet photos where he is always dressed in designer suits, now he is wearing a pair of simple pants and a gray long sleeve, his hair is a bit tousled and it appears he is growing his beard out, a bit shaggy, but he makes it look very… hot. That’s all you can say looking at him.

“Oh, hey!” He is sporting a polite smile as he looks up, about to keep talking, but he stops for a moment upon looking at you and he stops.

Everything stops. 

It’s as if he is taking you in, you can feel your cheeks heating up, the nervous fidgeting starts again, but you hide your hands behind your back so he doesn’t notice. 

“I’m looking for some kitchen stuff,” he then says, hiding his hands in his pockets. 

“Great!” you breathe out. “We do have… those.”

You flinch internally, but ignore just how awkward you are in his presence. 

You ask him about what he needs specifically as the two of you start walking down the isles and for a moment you think of grabbing the handbook, but that would look awful, so you make a decision on the spot.

You’re gonna just wing it. 

What could go wrong? You’ll just pretend like you’re Selma, confident and know everything about the items, you’re gonna say whatever comes to your mind and just… wing it. 

All while ignoring how attractive this man is up close. And intimidating. And charming. And…

“I think I want to check out the coffee stuff first,” he suggests and nodding you walk him over to the kitchen items.

“Do you have a coffee machine and you’re looking for some accessories, or…”

“I just got one of those old fashioned moka coffee pots,” he says with a boyish smile. “But I want to get that to the next level, if you know what I mean.” You do not.

“Of course,” you smile, eyes scanning over the shelves. 

Your grandmother has one of those old moka coffee makers, but you have absolutely no idea what else could be used for those, so you just start grabbing things and making up what they are used for. 

One after the other, you just keep showing him stuff with no idea what you’re talking about, but the longer you’re talking the more confident you’re growing, especially when he just keeps nodding and humming along to anything you say. 

“So… which one are you more interested in?” you ask at the end of your little speech. You look at him and find him already looking at you with a tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 

“What can you tell me about those?” he asks, ignoring your question and just moving to another shelf. 

He keeps asking about items and you just make up everything as you go. Of course, you know some of the stuff, but you were never really a true chef in the kitchen, so there are way too many items you don’t know that much, but somehow, you’ve gathered enough confidence that even you believe what you say. 

Slowly, Harry fills his basket as you move through the store and every time you look at him you catch him already looking at you with the same smile you can’t quite decipher. 

“What about those?” he points up at a set of plates on the top shelf.

“Oh, those are so pretty! Let me show you them!” you enthuse and run to grab the ladder from the back. 

It’s not the steadiest tool for sure, but you ignore the wobble you feel when you start climbing it.

“Are you sure it’s–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” you chuckle, reaching the top step, but your knees are definitely shaking. You focus on grabbing the plates and getting off as fast as possible, but right when you take them off the shelf you already feel yourself losing balance. 

But Harry is quick to come to your rescue. One of his hands grabs the ladder to steady it and the other… the other one grabs the back of your thigh to help you hold yourself up. Until then you were shaking because of the ladder, but now it’s definitely because of his firm hold on you, the warmth of his touch and the thoughts that unrelease when you realize just how perfectly his fingers are digging into your flesh. 

“You good?” he asks in a deep, husky voice. 

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than just a whisper as you hold onto the plates as if they could hold you up. 

You start moving down on the ladder, but Harry’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it works up on your hips and waist, grabbing onto your elbow as you finally step onto the ground and even then, he is still touching you, his eyes locked on yours as you’re still holding those damn plates. The image of dropping them and pushing up against him flashes through your mind and your knees wobble again when you catch his gaze flickering down to your lips for a second. 

“The plates,” you blurt out then. He looks down and a smile stretches across his face.

“They really are pretty.”

“Right?” you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Now that you risked your life for them, I guess it’s only fair if I actually buy them.”

Fuck, your heart is about to jump right out of your chest, how is he so smooth?

You gather a few more things and then move to the cash register to ring everything up. 

“How long have you been working here?” he asks, patiently waiting for you to finish. 

“Um… Do you want the truth?” you ask, with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah.”

“This is my first day,” you admit, just as you finish the scanning and when you look at the amount it all added up to, you almost choke on your own saliva. “Um, your total is 1630.”

For a moment you think he’ll question how it’s so much, but without hesitation he whips out his card and taps it on the terminal.

“First day, huh?”

“You wouldn’t have guessed?”

“Oh, I kind of did,” he chuckles and he starts to help you with putting everything away in bags. “You really should learn what the items are used for.”

Normally you’d be embarrassed that he noticed how much you just made up, but the smile he is gifting you with vanishes all negative feelings and you can actually find it funny. 

“I will.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” he smirks, grabbing the bags from the counter. “And if I happen to leave a review about the excellent service, what name should I drop?” 

“I’m Y/N,” you say with a sheepish smile. He then sticks his hand out and you take it.

“Harry. It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

With a final wave he turns around, slides his sunglasses back to the bridge of his nose and then walks out of the store. You stand there completely overwhelmed by the experience and you have no idea how much time passes by before Selma barges through the door.

“Hi Darling! How did everything go?” she beams, walking up to the counter where you’re still standing. 

“Great!”

“Did anyone come in?” 

“Yeah. Harry Styles was just here.” Selma freezes for a moment before looking up at you.

“Harry Styles? As in…”

“Yeah. That Harry Styles.”

“How did it go? Did he buy anything?”

“He spent 1600 dollars on kitchen stuff.”

“Y/N, that’s great!” Selma claps her hands. “Was he satisfied? Could you help him?”

“I think I could,” you say with a knowing smile. “He seemed… satisfied, yeah.”

The first day jitters are luckily gone by the next day, especially because Selma looked at you with so much pride after you told her about your encounter with Harry that you feel like you can’t do anything wrong. 

Before lunch Selma asks you to rearrange some stuff in the storage and you’re a bit relieved you don’t have to take any customers for now.

But because of that, you’re not out when one specific person walks into the shop. Again. 

Harry enters the store confidently, a smile already on his lips as he looks in the direction of the cash register, but it fades when he only sees Selma, but no sight of you. Selma, on the other hand, becomes ecstatic when she sees and recognizes him.

“Welcome! How may I help you?” she chirps, walking towards Harry, who is still looking around, eyes searching for you. 

“Hey, is the… Is the woman who worked yesterday here? Y/N?” Selma stops, surprised.

“Y/N? Uh, yes, but she is busy now, I’m sure I can help you–”

“I want her,” he states.

“She is still training, I’m sure I can–”

“Look,” Harry sighs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Selma, the owner,” she states proudly.

“Selma, I’m more than happy to buy everything in this store if it means I get to talk to her. How does that sound?”

Selma stares back at him, finally understanding the situation. Her stance changes instantly.

“Let me go get her for you.”

You’re going over your list in the back when Selma appears, her spotless appearance feels odd in the storage room’s setting. 

“Oh, hey! I just finished with–”

“I need you outside.”

“What? Why?” Panic washes over you, because you can’t read her face and what could she possibly need you for outside on your second day?

“Just come. Now!” She turns around and heads out, not even checking if you’re following her. Of course you do.

“Selma, what did I–” you start mumbling behind her, but just when you step out and spot Harry at the cash register.

His face lights up the moment he sees you and those damn butterflies start raging in your stomach. 

“Harry, you’re here. Again,” you state the obvious. 

“I am,” he chuckles and you see Selma walk away from the corner of your eyes. 

“How, um–What can I… help you with?” you ask, clearing your throat. Why is he here? Could it be… because of you? Yesterday you definitely spent an awful lot of time daydreaming of the way he was touching you on that ladder and you’d be lying if you said you felt disappointed he just walked out, knowing you might never see him again. 

Well, so much for that.

“I forgot to get something yesterday.” 

“Oh,” is all you can say, the disappointment snaking back into your gut. He is not here because of you, how could you even think about that?

Harry’s smile widens as he watches your face drop and then he finally continues.

“Your number.”

Your eyes widen and you must look quite funny, because Harry chuckles at the sight of your expression. 

“Was this too straight forward?”

“No!” you snap right away, maybe a bit too eagerly. “Not at all.”

“Great, then…”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over, you type your number in quickly and hand it over. He taps on the screen and a second later your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket.

“Just checking you didn’t give me a pizzeria’s number,” he jokes, making you laugh. “And… now that I’m conveniently here, maybe you can show me some more stuff.”

“What do you need?” you ask as the two of you head down one of the aisles. 

“Hmm, how long is your shift?”

“Um, another four hours,” you scoff.

“Then I guess I’m interested in everything. Whatever takes four hours to look at so I can take you out once you’re done.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter fourteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter fourteen: what we mean to each other

chapter summary: making amends is hard, moving on is hard, but you have a home now in a way you've never had before. together, you move forward through it all.

warnings/notes: this chapter still deals with the aftermath of the attack, so all previous warnings apply, but i think you'll see we're coming out of it now and into much happier times. this is the start of an absolute fluff fest, and we'll be back to smut in the next chapter. specific warnings for: discussions of physical attack, anxiety, ptsd, consent conversations, past s*xual assault (mentioned in passing), issues with police and the legal system because lbr the cops aren't doing anything good for assault victims, and reader has a triggering moment with her neck but she works through it just fine

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 14.3k

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It’s been days. Days of staying safe behind the walls of their apartment, days of dodging calls from your friends, days of cocooned self preservation. They haven’t left you for a single minute. You spent the weekend trading off who’s lap you were cuddled on and bickering over episodes of Single’s Inferno and you’ve never needed anything more. 

Slowly though, things start to shift. 

You’re showered, for one. And Yunho and Mingi both have settled back into their routines as best they can without leaving the apartment. Video games, mindless scrolling, paging through books and cooking balanced meals instead of another day of takeout. 

On Monday, Seonghwa confirms your worst suspicions by texting you a photo of the formal letter he received via Minseok’s attorney. You expect Yunho and Mingi’s are in the mail. Every time your phone chimes you expect it to be the police or some other official legal summons. Your mind has started to turn over every detail of the event with calculated detail, and your internet history stretches long with research. 

By Tuesday, you’ve caved and finally started answering Wooyoung’s texts with more than just single word responses or emoji confirmations that you’re still alive. The moment you do, he takes the opening and runs with it just like you knew he would. 

As you wait for the hot water for your tea to boil in the kettle, you re-read his most recent text again. 

Do you want to get out of the house for a bit? We can try that new spot by the bookstore?

Your stomach feels tight at the idea of going out and you do your best to tap out a reply that you think sounds casual and relaxed - Maybe next time, let’s just catch up and relax here? 

You watch the message send and deliver and in nearly real-time it flicks over to read. Dots appear as he types. 

Sure - his message reads - I’ll be there in an hour

An hour. You shouldn’t be so nervous to see your best friend, but the idea of opening up your little sanctuary to anyone right now feels a little fraught. The kettle whistles, and you hear feet shuffling against the vinyl flooring as Yunho crosses over into the kitchen and you lock your phone and Wooyoung’s messages away so you can focus. 

“Hey,” You murmur, giving him a smile as you pull the kettle off the heat. 

“Hey,” Yunho smiles back, leaning against the opposite counter, “everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You tell him, just a little white lie. 

“Is Woo still coming by?” He questions.  

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the kettle on a pad so it doesn’t damage the countertop, “he said around an hour,” 

Yunho nods and then slides a bit closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your back once until he settles it on your hip. “Hey,” he says again, “can we talk?”

A nervous pang strikes in your gut, but he doesn’t look upset, so you take a guess at what he wants, “Is it okay that he’s coming?” 

“Wooyoung?” His brows draw together, “Of course, that’s not what I meant,” 

“Oh,” You turn towards him more fully, leaning against the counter with him, “okay, what’s up?” 

“I want to apologize,” He says, swallowing tightly. 

“Apologize,” You blink. 

He nods. 

“Okay,” You can see how whatever he’s about to say is bothering him, the stress under the surface, but you have no idea what he’s sorry for. 

“Listen,” He reaches and takes your hand, pulling you a little closer to him, “I know you know I’m sorry, but I haven’t said it clearly and you deserve that,” 

“Oh,” You relax further into his space until you can feel your bodies brushing together, the warmth radiating off his skin. 

“The way I reacted at the studio after your last heat was wrong,” He says in a rush of air as he laces your hands together, “and I haven’t gotten the chance to really say that,” 

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, soothing him a little, “you don’t have to,” 

“No,” He insists with a squeeze of your fingers, “I do. That day, I was worried and jealous and confused, but I let my anger get the better of me and that’s not something I normally do.”

You squeeze his fingers back, letting him know you’re listening. 

His eyes flick up from your joined hands to your eyes as he continues, “It’s not something I should have ever put on you or something you should ever see,” 

“People get angry,” You start to say. 

He’s firm when he shakes his head, “People get angry, but I don’t get angry at you. Ever.” 

“Yunho,” 

“I yelled at you,” He squeezes your hands, “I cursed at you,” 

“I did the same thing right back,” You remind him. 

“It’s not the same,” He presses, brushing right past your words, “and I’m apologizing because I’m telling you, y/n, it will never happen again.” 

“You think we’ll never have a fight?” You smile, “That’s optimistic,” 

“This isn’t a joke,” He sighs, “please,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tuck closer to him, unlacing your hands so you can snake your arms around his middle, “and I appreciate you apologizing for that fight, but I was upset you were being possessive and emotional after all the cold shoulder, you yelling wasn’t really high on my list of concerns,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he nods, “I’ll get to that in a second, but will you hear me on this one thing?” 

“I’m listening,” 

“I hate to bring it up again,” He grimaces a little, “but I’ve just spent four days watching you jump at every noise around the apartment and wake up every night fucking terrified,” 

Your eyes shoot down. 

“And before I apologize for all the other ways I’ve been an ass to you,” His warm hands settle on your skin, thumb brushing along your jaw, “of which I know there are many,” 

You smile at that. 

“Yelling at you like that,” He sighs, “talking to you like that has been bothering me for months. I need to apologize for it because I need you to know that you’ll never, ever hear it again. Mingi said his peace, but it’s important to me that you know you’re safe with me in every way. If we’re going to do this, I need you to know you can tell me anything, including telling me off when I make mistakes, and I won’t get angry like that again.” 

“I already know that,” You look up, meeting his firm gaze and reaching for his cheek, “and I hope you understand that I know the difference between how you were angry then and what he did and how he spoke to me.” 

“I just had to say it,” He nods, “I would hate it if anything I ever did made you afraid to be honest with me, or made you feel like you’ve been feeling the past few days, I’d never,” 

“Baby,” You cup his cheeks in both hands, holding his eyes so he hears you fully, “I forgive you, and I am not afraid or uncomfortable with you or with Mingi. Not at all.” 

“Good,” He exhales hard, his eyes a little shiny and you press forward to wrap your arms around him and hug him close, his arms closing around your back. 

“If you’re being idiots,” You kiss his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “I’ll tell you you’re being idiots,” 

He laughs low, the vibration running through your chest, “Good.” 

“And if I’m being an idiot,” You add, “I’m not going to freak out if you get pissed at me or yell at me,” 

“I appreciate that,” He squeezes your shoulders, “but I don’t want to be the guy that yells, that’s not really an alpha stereotype I’ve ever wanted to fit.” 

“Okay,” You nod against him. 

He clears his throat a little roughly and you’re about to pull away but he holds you steady for a moment, “There’s one more thing,” 

Your hand strokes a line down his back, as you hum softly, “Hmm?” 

“I have more to say and to apologize for,” You can feel his heart beating a little faster under your cheek and you stroke his back again, “but I’m still figuring out how to do that, and it might not be fair of me to ask, but I wanted to see if you can be patient with me for that.” 

“Yunho,” You murmur, “what’s going on?” 

“I, uh,” His fingers flex tightly against your skin, “I started seeing someone,”

“Someone?”

“Professionally,” He adds, “Mingi used to and I know it helped. I didn’t think I needed to, but I think we can both agree I am not the best at managing my own emotions here,” 

“Oh,” 

“So,” He breathes, “after our fight, when I finally cooled off and realized what we did I asked him for a referral. I’ve been meeting with her once a week and it’s been helpful, but I’m not ready to apologize to you for the rest of it until I understand why I treated you like that,” 

Emotion fills your chest like a balloon and you nod into him, “Yunho,” 

He clears his throat again, “Sorry,” he says, “this is a little uncomfortable for me to talk about, but I’m working on it,” 

You wriggle out of his arms to find his face again and press up on your tiptoes to catch his mouth, kissing him with as much surety as you can before you lean back, “That means everything to me,” you tell him, “everything. You have all the time in the world from me, okay?” 

“Yeah,” He smiles, “good, okay,” 

“Is it helping?” 

“Definitely,” He nods, “it’s almost like the professionals know what they’re talking about,” 

You smile up at him. 

“I know I mentioned it before,” He adds quickly, “and I won’t press it, but if you do feel like it would be helpful for you too, you can come to me and I can ask my therapist for some numbers for you to call. I’ll even help set up an appointment if you need that,” 

Your chest goes tight at the thought, “I’ll let you know,” 

“Okay,” He smooths a hand up and down your back, “no pressure,” 

“For sure,” You manage. 

His lip quirks up and he presses a long kiss to your forehead as he gives you one more squeeze, “I said I won’t press, don’t panic,” 

“Sorry,” You breathe. 

He makes a noise dismissing that and then steps back, “So,” his eyes are bright again, everything equalizing back to normal with his smile, “you were making tea, can I help?” 

Your shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of you in an instant, “No,” you turn back to the warm kettle, “but can I make you a cup?” 

“Sure,” He pulls two teacups down from the cupboard, “so Woo will be here in an hour?” 

“Mhm,” You tap your phone to light up the screen to check for any other texts.

“Got it,” He nods, “would you feel alright with Mingi and I stepping out for a while?” 

“Out?” 

“I need to run by the studio and check in on things,” He explains, “and we need to get some food in here. I figured we could do that while Wooyoung keeps you company,” 

“Yeah,” Your heart picks up a little at the thought, but you press that feeling down and drop a teabag in each of your cups, “I’ll be just fine,” 

“Good,” He drops another kiss to your hair, keeping his fingers lingering on your skin while you pour hot water into your cups. 

“Do you,” You almost stop the question, but you find the words bubbling out of your mouth before you can second guess, “do you need to leave right away?” 

Yunho smiles wide, taking the kettle from your hands as he shakes his head, “No,”

Your heart eases a little. 

“Let’s have these together,” He nods to the tea and picks up both cups, “we’ll go when Woo gets here,” 

You follow him out into the living room, and he sets the cups down on the table before settling himself into the corner cushions and reaching up for you. It’s easy to take his hand and to melt into the familiar position on his lap, and you let him draw you in close and cuddle you, his arms wrapped securely around you as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. 

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest and turning your face a little to catch his mouth in a kiss. 

He hums pleasantly against your mouth, “Is it strange to say that I’ll miss you while we’re out?” 

You smile, shaking your head, “No,” 

“Will you miss us?” He pecks your lips again. 

“More than I want to admit,” 

“You know,” Yunho smooths his hands over your body to rest in their familiar homes, one on your thigh and the other curled around your waist, “I hate what happened, and I wish I could take all the bad memories away, but I’m also so glad you’re here with us,” 

“I know what you mean,” You nod. 

“The months we spent apart were terrible,” He confesses, kissing you softly. 

“We’ll have to make up for lost time,” You agree quietly. 

“A proper date,” He smiles, “or a vacation somewhere warm?” 

“Mm,” You hum, thinking of being stretched out on a beach somewhere with your boys on either side of you, “perfect,”

“I’ll think on that,” He runs a hand down your hair and relaxes back into the couch, “you deserve something nice,” 

Twisting on his lap you reach for both of your teacups before settling back into the same, comfortable position, “I think it would just be nice to come over here without having something traumatic happen beforehand,” 

He frowns a little. 

“I’m kidding,” You nudge him softly, “kind of,” 

“I know,” He nods, “still,” 

“Yeah,” You quietly agree, taking the first sip of your tea. 

Yunho takes a sip too, and then hums a short, quick laugh, “This smells like you,” 

“Like me?” 

“The tea,” He takes another sip and nods, “you smell just the same, but sweeter,” 

“Do you like it?” You find yourself asking. 

Yunho’s head cocks slightly to the side, a line between his brows, and then he says, “Have I not made it clear how much I love your scent?” 

Your cheeks heat and he smiles at the way your skin reddens. 

“Sweetheart,” He shifts, pulling you in while still being careful of the tea, pressing warm, lingering kisses over your jaw to the hollow of your ear, “if I could drink you instead, I would.” 

You swallow, heat curling in your belly. 

“Soothing tea,” He murmurs, “sweet honey,” he adds with a kiss, “and the willow is sharp and fresh. You wake me up and calm me down all at the same time,” 

Your pulse quickens, and slowly your head drops to the side, extending the column of your neck to his lips. 

He takes it slow, remembering the way you jerked back in bed a few nights before, and he’s careful not to press too firmly or give you any inclination that he’s going to touch you with anything but his lips. 

“You smell like home,” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your head in his wide palm, kissing just a little lower still. 

Your muscles are stiffening up at the feeling of his mouth getting lower towards your exposed gland and your fingers tighten on his shirt where you hold yourself steady. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispers, “stay with me,” 

You nod, just a little, enough to tell him not to stop, “W-what else?” 

He smiles against your throat, “Well,” he kisses again, to punctuate his words, “when you’re happy, really happy or excited, there’s lemon too,” 

Your breath feels staggered, thready, and you focus on the feeling of him and the warmth of the teacups against your thigh. 

“When you want us,” He takes a deep inhale, sighing hot against your skin, “it’s all honey, thick and syrupy. After your heat I smelled that honey here for weeks,” 

You feel a whine building a little in your throat, and you bite down on your lip to keep it buried. Your body feels like it’s fighting itself with every touch of his mouth, hot arousal knots up at his scent mingling with yours and at his words, but the isolated touch alone has you fighting little flashes of a place that isn’t here and isn’t him. 

“I’ve got you,” He repeats, “I love you,” 

The reply settles on the tip of your tongue, but then he presses one last closed-lipped kiss directly over your gland and withdrawals entirely. You blink hard, a shudder running up your spine. 

“Alright?” He checks, smoothing his hand down your hair again. 

You nod, letting your fingers unknot from his shirt while you collect yourself. 

“Hopefully that answers your question,” He clears his throat softly. 

You start to nod, but the sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the moment and you start, tea spilling over the lip of your cup onto your fingers. 

“It’s Mingi, baby,” He assures you. 

“I know,” You have to tear your eyes off the hallway though. 

His mouth is set in a concerned little line, and you know he’s probably thinking about your conversation in the kitchen again, but he lets it lie and doesn’t push it, just like he promised. 

Mingi appears a moment later, a towel slung around his hips and his shoulders and hair wet from the shower. He smiles widely when he sees you both, “What’s going on in here?” 

Yunho raises up his cup, “Tea,” he smiles, “nothing much,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods and stretches, “nice,” 

“Will you be ready soon?” Yunho asks, “Wooyoung will be here in a bit,” 

“Yeah, sure,” He confirms and then glances at you, “you’re good with us going out?” 

“I’m good,” You confirm. 

“I’ll stay if it would make you feel better,” Mingi adds, “I can hide in the bedroom and listen to music or something if you want privacy,” 

You love them both so much in this moment you feel like your chest might crack right open on its own, and you shake your head at him with a smile, “No, I have to get comfortable at some point, it might as well be while Woo is here with me,” 

He nods, “Well, we won’t be too far, just call us and we’ll turn around.” 

“Thank you,” You reach up to take his hand and he twines his fingers with yours immediately. 

Yunho shifts, pressing his lips against your shoulder, “Are you and Woo going out anywhere?” 

He’s clearly trying to be subtle, but you hear the anxious note in his voice and it occurs to you that they might be just as nervous leaving you as you are staying here without them. 

You shake your head, “No, just staying here,” 

“That’s good,” Mingi adds a little too quickly, “if you do go out, would you let us know?” 

“I will,” You promise them, “but you don’t have to worry,” 

“It’s in our nature to worry over you,” Yunho sighs, “but I think we’re both trying not to be overbearing about this whole thing,” 

“Trying,” Mingi shrugs, “but also the idea of not knowing where you are feels like it might give me hives,” 

You laugh at the image, easing back into Yunho’s chest. 

“To be clear,” Yunho shoots Mingi a look, “that’s in a nice ‘we care about you’ way, not in a ‘controlling boyfriend’ kind of way,” 

“Relax,” You tell them both, “I get why you want to know, it’s the same reason I want to know where you are.” 

“Studio first,” Mingi offers without you asking and your chest warms, “then groceries, and then I want to swing by that cafe that has that caramel cheesecake you like, then home,” 

“Don’t say we don’t have to,” Yunho adds, “we want to,” 

You smile as he takes the words right out of your mouth. 

“Plus, I want some,” Mingi says with ease. 

You’re not used to this type of relationship yet, having alphas of your own who actually want to be with you and take care of you, who worry for you and feel for you in all the deep nervous ways you feel for them. You hush the nagging voice in your mind that tries to tell you not to show them how much you need them, the voice that doesn’t want you to jump too fast, you already know what you get by listening to that voice. 

Instead you ask them what you want to ask, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” 

“Two hours,” Yunho offers, “maybe three at the most,” 

“Okay,” You exhale, weight dropping away from your shoulders, “that’s perfect,” 

“We’ll let you know,” Mingi adds, “and if you need anything special while we’re out, we can stop,”

You shake your head, “I’m fine,” You assure them, “a little anxious, but you know, it’s good for me.” 

Mingi smiles warmly, brushing his hand over your cheek and tilting your face up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, “We’re a phone call away,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

Yunho sighs as Mingi’s hand drops away, and he kisses your shoulder again, “It’s funny,” he says, “I really don’t want to leave you,” 

“We did just spend three months not seeing each other and in a state of constant relationship limbo,” You point out and give him a squeeze, “we really went from nothing to a whole lot of something fast,” 

“Not too fast?” Mingi checks, trying to sound casual. 

“No,” You say, “and even if it is, I don’t care,” 

“We’ve always felt right together,” Yunho adds, “we’re just letting ourselves enjoy it now,” 

He’s never said something so true. 

Mingi gets dressed and collapses onto the couch next to both, pushing closer into your space with Yunho until you’re both practically on his lap, but it works. You stay knit close together until there’s a knock on the door and then it’s fast kisses goodbye and big hugs from your best friend, and before you can really process it you’re without them for the first time in days. 

Your stomach is fluttering, a nervous quiver deep in your gut that you really don’t want Wooyoung to over-analyze. A moment later you find yourself back on the couch in the warm spot Yunho left, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had all shared the night before. You can smell them on it, earthy, warm, and sweet. 

Wooyoung watches as you start to relax, and he takes a seat right next to you to keep close, a closed smile on his lips. 

You can’t believe you miss them already. 

They must miss you too though, because Mingi only makes it a scant ten minutes before he texts you, his message lighting up your phone - Forgot to say I love you - I love you.

“What?” Wooyoung nudges you under the blanket. 

You pass your phone to him and he reads the message, his eyebrows shooting up high, “I leave you alone for a few days and you’re all saying ‘I love you’s?” 

You grab the phone back and tuck it away, “That’s the thing about life changing trauma,” you laugh, “it really accelerates the big feelings,” 

Wooyoung nods, keeping things light, but finds your hand on the back of the couch so he can hold it. 

“Also we’re not all saying it,” You confess, “they’re saying it,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean they’ve told me,” You explain, “the day after the studio we had this big talk,” 

“Don’t tell me they put all that shit on you like that,” He wraps his hand around yours, “y/n,” 

“Not like that,” You shake your head, “it’s actually hysterical, they thought that Seonghwa and I have been dating,” 

His eyes go wide, “What?” 

“It’s truly the longest story of miscommunication,” You tell him, “at this point I think someone should write a book about me and make it a romantic comedy,” 

“Erotica,” Wooyoung smirks. 

“Shut up,” You swat at him. 

“There have been too many good orgasms for a romcom,” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes, “Anyways, it turns out the whole not talking period while you were all away was just me pining but feeling like I fucked it up, and them pining but thinking I had moved on with Hwa,” 

“Damn,” 

“But when they realized that they were wrong about that,” You continue, “we just got it all out there,” 

“And they love you,” He smiles a little, “and they actually said it,” 

“Yeah,” You soften into the cushions. 

“I hate to ask the obvious,” He squeezes your hand, “but if you’re so happy about that, why haven’t you told them? You do love them?” 

“So much,” The words fly out like you’re defending something, and you run a hand through your hair as you get your real thoughts steady, “I do, Woo, so much. We’re scent matches,” 

“I know,” He nods warmly. 

“You do?” 

“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Wooyoung smiles, “well, apart from you three.” 

“Thanks,” 

He nudges your thigh with his foot under the blanket, “Honestly, though, after what happened I could see it on them. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and they kept flanking you, watching you like you might disappear,” 

A memory of the studio plays like a clip in your mind, the way they held you between them, the three of you against everything. You nod, “They’ve been doing that for days,” 

“Which…” Wooyoung trails off, trying to guess where your head is, “you’re happy about?” 

“I am,” You nod emphatically, “and I love them, I just… I can’t get the fucking words out of my mouth,” 

He sobers a little, sliding closer to you on the couch so he can draw your legs over his lap and give you exactly the kind of comfort you need, “I’m listening, babe, talk to me,” 

“I don’t know why,” You hold his hand tighter, “but every time they say it, and I think I’m going to say it back, I’m right back in that room with Minseok’s teeth on my neck and I can’t,” your chest feels tight, “I can’t get it out,” 

His eyes soften, empathetic in the way that only he can be, “Does being in love with them scare you?” 

“No!” You pull your hand back from his. 

“Babe,” He takes your hand back and holds tight, “I’m not saying they scare you, I’m saying does being in love, being vulnerable like that scare you?” 

Your shoulders drop, “A little, but,”

“But?” 

“I thought about it for three months,” You argue, “I had it rehearsed, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and the big reveal was supposed to be the ‘I love you’ part not the ‘I’m sorry’ part,” 

“Your plans on that kind of fell apart when that asshole tried to claim you,” Wooyoung pushes back a little. 

“Yeah, no shit,” A flurry of anger bubbles in your belly. 

He nods, “And now you’re off kilter,” 

“You could say that,” 

“You rarely do anything without thinking it through,” He offers, this thumb drawing a comforting line over your palm, “and your plan got fucked, and you’re emotionally vulnerable, and traumatized, and stressed. You feel like you’re out here without a life vest,” 

His words stun you silent. 

“And this thing you worked up in your mind for three months is now totally derailed,” He continues, “am I on the money?” 

You nod. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says. 

You nod again. 

Wooyoung asks this question softly, his voice quiet and gentle, “Do you want to bond with them?” 

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

“It’s just you and me,” Wooyoung soothes you, “and whether or not you bond with them is your choice, okay? But, babe, is that something you think you’ll want?” 

Suddenly you remember the feeling of your heat with them. The way you begged for them, the way it felt so right and so sure that you belonged to each other. You remember how your mind spun imaginary futures that all ended the same way. 

Silently, you nod. 

“Loving them isn’t bonding,” He murmurs, “you can just love them for now at your own pace.” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes, “What if I can never do it? They can barely touch my neck without me falling apart, what if I can never take a real claim?” 

“Oh, babe,” He pulls you towards him, crushing you to his chest, “I wish you called me earlier, you shouldn’t be thinking like this,” 

“It was so terrible,” You confess into his shoulder, “I can’t even tell you, I don’t even know how to explain,” 

“You don’t have to,” He hushes you, a hand stroking up and down your back, “and I don’t know if this is going to help or hurt, but I know right now you feel like there’s no way you’d ever be able to take a claim without it being scary and awful, but someday you might be able to without even thinking of him.”

A few hot tears escape your eyes. 

“And I know I give Yunho and Mingi shit,” He adds, “but you know that both of them would rather die than do something to hurt you or scare you,” 

“And if I can never bond?” You manage. 

“Then I’d say thank god your scent matches are two men who would never, ever push you into a bond you weren’t ready for,” He says, squeezing you tight, “and I think if you asked them, they’d tell you that they’d rather be with you unbonded and happy than bonded and in pain.” 

“You’re right,” You wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, “I know you’re right,” 

“They’re not going to try to push you into a bond just because you love each other,” He lets you lean back but he slides his hand back into yours, “especially not now,” 

“I know that,” You sigh, “rationally, I was just,” 

“I’m telling you, I get it,” He eases you, “sometimes you go through something and you think a part of you is wrecked forever, that you’ll never be able to do something again or feel normal again, but you will. I promise,” 

You know the truth of him so suddenly you can’t stop the words, “Woo,” you feel your heart beating faster, “did something happen?” 

“A long, long time ago,” He says softly, “and today’s not the day for that story, but I’m telling you it does get better and it does soften in your memory and someday your alphas are going to touch your neck and you won’t even think about it, it just won’t be there anymore.” 

Grief and relief mingle in your gut at his words, and you want to ask him more, to be there for him like he’s been there for you but you can see it in his face, today isn’t the day for that story. 

You squeeze his hand, “I love you, Woo,” 

“I love you too,” He assures you. 

Silence sits between you for a moment while you turn over his words, and though you can’t imagine the day he’s describing, you still believe him. You have to. You don’t know what happened to him or when, but you’ve never met someone as bright and open and happy as him, and you have to hold onto that truth. 

You look down at your combined hands, “Yunho offered to make an appointment with a therapist for me,” 

“Say yes,” Wooyoung replies without a thought, “I waited years and I wish I hadn’t,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Does he have a contact?” Wooyoung asks, drawing your eyes back up, “I have some options for you if not,” 

“He said he can ask his therapist for a referral,” 

“His therapist?” Wooyoung grins, “I knew I liked him,” 

“You’ve been friends for years,” You nudge him. 

“Liked him for you,” He corrects, “that’s different,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

“My best friend deserves an alpha who is fully therapized and capable of complex emotions,” Wooyoung says with confidence, “nothing less.” 

“Don’t mention that I told you,” You add quickly, “he told me that in confidence, it just slipped out,” 

“I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “that’s private. But between you and me, I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Me too,” You sigh. 

“And as far as you going?” Wooyoung circles back to the real question at hand, “Say yes, the sooner the better. If Yunho’s offering to help set it up, let him. Making that call is hard, and if he can make it easier, just say yes.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, your shoulders dropping. 

“And tell them how you’re feeling about bonding,” He adds, “trust me.” 

“Maybe,” You say, “I know you’re right. We’re just moving so fast,” 

“So slow down,” He offers. 

“I don’t know if I want to,” You admit, warmth and nervous energy filling your chest, “it feels right like this, I just don’t know if I can handle a claim,” 

“Tell them,” He reiterates, “don’t let them stumble into that one, they might hurt you without even knowing it if they bring it up sooner than you’re ready for.” 

“Right,” You nod, “you’re right,” 

He huffs a laugh, “Usually am,”

You flick his arm, rolling your eyes, so grateful at him for helping you work through something this hard while still keeping you smiling. You should have called him earlier, he’s right about that too. 

You let silence stretch around you both for a moment, and then something occurs to you. 

“Do you know anything about the charges Minseok is filing?” You run a hand through your hair, “Not to bring up yet another pleasant subject,” 

Wooyoung snorts a little air through his nose and shrugs, “I probably know what you know, have you talked to Hwa?” 

You shake your head. 

“At all?” He seems surprised. 

“I have,” You correct, “but it was quick and we were all on the call. I haven’t been to my place to see if there’s any mail, but I’d guess Yunho and Mingi will get a summons soon.” 

Wooyoung nods, “That’s what the police said,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You talked to the police?” 

“Seonghwa did,” He clarifies, “and he gave San and I the run down.” 

“Why is no one telling me what’s going on?” You exhale heavily. 

“Because last we heard you were having nightmares,” Wooyoung rests a hand on your folded legs, “and we don’t have a lot of information to give, and I don’t think any of us want to cause you more stress than you need.” 

“Do Yunho and Mingi know?” You press. 

“Not exactly,” Wooyoung says, “though, I guess Seonghwa might be telling them now if they stopped by the studio,” 

You wait for him to continue, but you’re a little relieved at least that your boys aren’t keeping anything from you directly. 

“Seonghwa spoke to the police who explained the charges. Minseok is alleging that the guys misunderstood what they saw and ignored his attempts to explain, and that they used unnecessary force intervening on your behalf.” He says it plainly. 

“Misunderstood?” You repeat the word. 

“I know,” Wooyoung nods, “we all know, but that’s what he’s saying. The police advised Seonghwa to get an attorney and let him know that further charges were being filed. I think we can safely assume that’s Yunho and Mingi, maybe San if he’s really going after it.” 

“Maybe me too,” You add. 

“Maybe,” He nods, “but that would be tough to prove I think,” 

“Hmm,” Your eyes feel a little unfocused. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung gets your attention with a squeeze, “we don’t know anything yet, and we thought this might happen. It doesn’t change the truth and it doesn’t mean any of them regret what they did to make sure you were safe, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Tell me you understand,” He presses, “because I’m not letting you put this one on yourself,” 

“I do, I understand,” You nod, “it just sucks,”

“That’s fair,” He gives you a soft smile, “but it’s going to take a lot more than this to fuck us over,” 

“Yeah,” You murmur, “you’re probably right.” 

Wooyoung says something else but you hardly hear it, in the back of your mind all you can think of is that first night at the hospital. The detectives who interviewed you were kind, but bordered on dismissive, and you know Minseok and his family have deeper pockets than you do. You have to figure this out, you have to.

  “Babe?” Wooyoung nudges you. 

“Yeah,” You snap up, coming back to the present moment and letting those anxieties fade into the background until you can really think them through, “sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” He soothes you. 

Your phone buzzes on your lap again and you pull it up to see the message. It’s Mingi again - Budae Jjigae for dinner, ask Wooyoung if he wants to stay? We’ll have plenty

It’s like he felt your anxiety from miles away and you can feel the tense knot of your shoulders unlocking. You send back a quick heart emoji and then look back up to your friend, “You want to stay for dinner?” 

He smiles, “Who’s cooking?” 

“Mingi,” You tell him, “he’s been on a comfort food kick for me,” 

Wooyoung smiles, “I’ll stay,” 

“Great,” You tap out a reply to Mingi letting him know and take a big sigh. 

“They make you happy,” Wooyoung says, “it’s nice to see,” 

“It’s nice to feel,” You tell him, “after all this time, and after everything,” 

“You deserve it,” He murmurs. 

You smile, a little tease at the corner of your mouth when you nudge him, “So do you, and speaking of,” 

His face lights up fast, “I wasn’t trying to bring my too-good mood over here if things weren’t going well,” he sighs, “but now that I know you’re all in love,” 

“So you and Yeosang?” You turn the conversation to something so much happier, and feel lighter the second you do. 

“It’s so good,” He gushes, head falling back against the cushions, “he’s kind of quiet, kind of hard to get to know at first, but y/n, he’s so funny,” 

“Yeah?” You smile. 

“And smart,” He adds, “and considerate, he’s always getting me coffees or refilling my water, just like, those little things,” 

“Wow, look at you,” You squeeze his hand, “serial dater of alphas, turned into a blushy mess over a funny, smart, considerate beta,” 

“He’s packing like an alpha, I’ll say that,” Wooyoung grins wolfishly. 

You smack his chest, “Woo! Literally that is too much information,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “I share a locker room with your boyfriends, I know what you’re working with,” 

You feel your face flush red. 

“Cute,” He teases. 

“So,” You divert, “does Yeosang feel as strongly?” 

His smile drops a little, “I mean,” he says, “I think so? But he’s not really an oversharer,” 

“Have you told anyone else?” You try to be casual about that question, but if you’re being honest you’re dying to know where things will land with San and Seonghwa. 

Wooyoung shakes his head though, “Not yet, but I think when everything calms down I might have him pick me up at the studio or something? I want you to meet him and I want everyone to know, I just,” 

“I get it,” You assure him, “you go at your own pace.” 

“Yeah,” He sighs. 

“Just don’t follow my lead,” You smile, “if you like him, don’t run away in a panic,” 

“Noted,” He laughs. 

He looks so happy, bright from the inside in a way that matches his sunny scent, and you think he’s not far from sharing ‘I love you’s of his own at this rate. 

You squeeze his hand again and catch his attention back, “You really look so happy,” you tell him. 

“I am,” He sighs, “he’s exactly what I needed,” 

You smile, and then push his legs to the side, “Move over, I know you have pictures, you’re holding out,” 

He laughs sharply, head falling back but letting you manhandle him a little so you can snuggle into his side. Wooyoung tugs the blanket around you both and pulls out his phone, “Fine,” 

“Like it’s a burden to show your best friend pictures of your hot new boyfriend,” You smack his chest, “come on,” 

Wooyoung drops his arm around your shoulders until you’re slotted together on the corner of the couch, but he still hasn’t lit up his phone. You’re about to nudge him again, but then you feel him press a soft kiss to your hair. 

“You know,” He says softly, “when Sannie called me and told me what happened, I just felt so sick,” 

You find his other hand under the covers and lace your fingers together, “I’m okay,” 

He nods, sighing into your skin, “I just want you to know,” he says, his voice a little tight, “you mean so much to me, and I’ll be grateful to them forever for stopping him,” 

You blink back a few tears and nod, “I am okay, though,” 

He nods again and clears his throat, “I know,” 

“I think you’re avoiding my questions about Yeosang,” You squeeze his hand tightly, an acknowledgement of his emotions and his words, while steering the conversation back to happier topics. 

“You’re right,” He laughs, “you caught me.” 

“Come on,” You nudge him again, pushing down the little swell of emotion that his words brought up. 

“He’s not really a selfie guy,” Wooyoung slides his finger across his phone screen until he finds Instagram and then navigates to his new man’s page, “but, I don’t know, I think you’ll like his vibe.” 

Your face cracks into a wide smile when you see the profile, clearly that of an artist, a photographer. The first post on his page is of Wooyoung, though you’d have to know Wooyoung well to know it. He’s walking away from camera through a dark Itaewon street, the lines of his body accented by the neon club signs. 

“Oh, Woo,” You relax against him and open that photo to see it larger, “he really likes you,” 

He snatches the phone away, a little pink in his cheeks as he rushes to downplay the truth of what you can see plain as day, and you fight to get back the phone, your cheeks starting to hurt from how much you’ve been laughing. 

You and Wooyoung stay like this for ages, warmly locked together as you swap stories and funny things on both your phones. By the time your phone chimes with another text from Mingi, at least two hours have gone by.

Almost home! His message reads. 

Your chest feels warm, your heart whole at the words. 

“They’ll be back in a minute,” You tell Wooyoung as you set your phone aside. 

“Perfect,” He grins, “so exactly how much teasing can I get away with before you get mad?” 

You fall apart again into laughter, happy tears stinging at your eyes. You don’t hear the front door open at first, but when you finally look up you see them standing frozen in the doorway with such softness in their expressions. You feel the words bubble up at the sight of them, but again they stay resting at the tip of your tongue.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch, “Alright, alright stop making heart eyes at each other and tell me what’s in the box,” 

Your eyes flick down to the large white box in Mingi’s hand, the perfect cheesecake nestled inside waiting just for you. Wooyoung takes a few grocery bags out of their hands and heads off to the kitchen, and just like that your night falls together naturally. 

You don’t think about Minseok again until later that night. For a beautiful, blissful four hours you just laughed and ate and relaxed with your best friend and your boyfriends, and he doesn’t enter your brain at all. 

It isn’t until you’re lying in bed alone with your thoughts, Yunho and Mingi deep asleep on either side of you, that you realize what you have to do. 

In the morning you wake from a dreamless sleep, and you start to put your plan in motion. You slip out of bed and leave them to their rest, light only just stretching its way through the Seoul skies outside. Seeing Wooyoung made you feel lighter in a way that you can’t explain, and within minutes you’re scrawling out a note, stealing Mingi’s key, and lacing up your sneakers. 

Out for a walk, be back in a little while, don’t worry too much x

You leave it on their kitchen counter and you hope it’s enough to keep them from looking for you. You need a little space from your own scared reflection in the mirror, and a new perspective on the plan you’ve been turning over since your head hit the pillows last night. 

The note isn’t a lie, strictly speaking, you are out for a walk, but you also know if you told them exactly where you were on a walk to, they'd worry. They wouldn’t just worry, they would have insisted on coming with you, but this is something you have to do alone. 

You take the long way to the hospital down the river path, letting the cool day calm your mind and keep you centered. You go over in your mind all the things you want to say to him when you see him, assuming you actually make it into his room. You wonder how hard it will be to convince him. You wonder if you’ll even be able to get a single word out of your mouth. 

You have to try. 

Yunho’s words from yesterday morning in the kitchen sink into you. The tenderness in his eyes when he mentioned how jumpy you’ve been around the apartment. You hadn’t even realized it, but now you feel it in your shoulders and your stomach with the sound of every opening door, every squeak of a shoe on vinyl flooring. Everytime you look up into a mirror you expect to see a face over your shoulder, to feel hands on your hips.  

Minseok had taken so many little things from you in the span of three minutes. 

You need to take something back. 

Every step leading into the hospital is heart pounding and nerve wracking, stress inducing on a level you’ve never experienced, but standing in front of reception you suddenly feel an overwhelming calm. Your mind is clear, operating on something wholly unconscious and you don’t know where you’ve mustered this feeling from, but you let it take you. 

You give over Minseok’s full name and provide the kindest smile you can to the woman behind the desk,“I’m his sister,” you tell her. The lie rolls right off your tongue, so clean and easy you surprise yourself. 

“Oh,” The nurse nods, “well visiting hours don’t start until eleven,” 

“I have work,” You counter, softening your face, “I’m sorry, but do you think you could make an exception? I’ll be very quick, I just want to see him for a few minutes before I have to run,” 

She considers it, and you know you have her the minute she checks the nurse’s station to see who else is there with her before she breaks a rule, “Alright, but just be quick, five minutes,” 

“Thank you so much,” You smile, “really, you’re so kind,” 

She waves you off, glancing around her again, “He’s in 305, the third door down on your left when I open the doors,” 

“Thank you,” 

She presses a button on the wall and the lock springs free, opening the heavy security door to your side. With one last smile and deeply grateful bow, you slip through the door and make it through into the hospital hallway where you are most definitely not supposed to be. 

Third door on the left. 

You have to be quick, not so you don’t get caught, but so you don’t chicken out. If you stand in this hallway and let yourself really think about what you’re doing, you’ll turn right around and go home. Steeling yourself, you rush forwards and find the door to 305 and with a deep breath you slip inside. 

Private rooms are expensive, that thought occurs to you as you shut the door tightly behind you. That fact, plus the reality that he’s already talking about pressing his own charges, tells you Seonghwa was right, he has some kind of family money. You hope that when you turn around and actually face the room you won’t have to contend with his mother or father or god forbid some girlfriend you know nothing about. You need him to be alone. 

Blissfully, the room is quiet, the only sounds are medical and simple. With your palms flat against the door you take a deep breath, and if Minseok is awake he says nothing, makes no sound, while you gather the nerve to do this. 

Finally, you turn. 

He is awake, studying you with a careful expression, but then your eyes flick over him. He’s more than injured, he’s completely incapacitated. You catalog it all quickly - his leg suspended in an elevating sling, ankle wrapped up tight, wrist sprained and in a brace, his face is bruised and battered and you realize in seconds that his broken jaw is wired shut. He has an oxygen cannula tucked into his bandaged nose, and you remember that his ribs are broken too. 

You wonder which of your boys delivered each piece of punishment. 

Your mouth feels dry, and your pulse is quickening, the sight of him so close is enough to induce panic but he can’t really do anything to you in this state so you have to just be brave. You push yourself off the wall and walk to the end of his hospital bed, “Hey,” 

He gestures to his jaw and shrugs to communicate that he can’t really talk. 

“I know,” You nod, “I heard.” 

It’s strange to be here with him like this when last week you were working side by side. It’s bizarre to suddenly feel this bubble of uncomfortable space and distance, and to feel the fear underneath it all. 

He gestures towards you with his bandaged hand and you know he’s asking why you’re here. 

“I heard about the counter charges,” You came here with a purpose and you have to stick to it, “and I came here to ask you to drop them.” 

He shakes his head and looks down at himself and then back up to you. 

“After what you did?” Anger curls up in your belly, “I think they took it pretty easy on you.” 

He huffs, a puff of air from his closed lips. 

“Listen,” You try, “you and I both know what you tried to do, and whatever your excuse is, it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t gotten you off me… I guess what I’m saying is do the right thing now. You said you were sorry, just drop these charges and we can all move on.” 

His eyes harden and he shakes his head. 

You thought he was apologetic after, coming to his senses and realizing in the haze of his rut he almost broke someone’s mind, but now you’re starting to think he was just pleading for his own beating to stop. 

“You won’t consider it?” You ask, stomach clenching tightly. 

He shakes his head again and points to his injuries. Jaw, ribs, leg. 

You want to hit him yourself, so suddenly that your fingers curl tight into fists, “You tried to fucking claim me because I wouldn’t go out on a date with you, and you think you’re the victim here?” 

He seems irritated by your question, and he reaches for something on the tray table to his side. He pulls up a small whiteboard and marker, clearly given to him by hospital staff to communicate, and he wipes away the words that were there to write out his message to you. 

I’m the one in a hospital bed.

“You bastard,” The words just slip out, “why do you think? They put you here for a fucking reason, Minseok,” 

He wipes the message away and writes something else. 

Keep your alphas on a leash.

You’ve never understood the phrase ‘seeing red’ before, but now it’s meaning is crystal clear, “You should keep yourself on a leash.” 

He huffs. 

“Using tone to submit an omega is illegal, Minseok,” You round the corner of the bed, “the prison time for something like that is long. It’s not even just assault, I think that’s something like three or four years? But using tone… claiming against an omega’s will? That’s irreparable damage. I wonder how many charges they’d stack on top in court? Psychological trauma? Sexual assault?” 

His eyes darken and he wipes the board again, his marker squeaking roughly against it as he angrily writes out the next message. 

I never touched you like that.

“You would have,” You shake your head, “as soon as I was your nice obedient omega and couldn’t say no.” 

He stares daggers, but says nothing. 

“They might be able to prove intent,” You tell him, “throw a few more years on top for good measure. How old do you think you’ll be when they let you out? Do you think a dance studio would hire a forty year old man?” 

His face pales, he looks sick suddenly. 

“You’ll drop the charges,” You tell him, “and when you do, I’ll drop mine.” 

His eyes widen. 

“You’ll never set foot in the studio again, and you’ll go find another job somewhere else.” 

His eyes skim over you, trying to gauge your honesty. 

“Do you understand me?” You don’t know what’s possessing you, what’s holding you up so you can get these words out, but you’ve never felt more sure. 

He says nothing. 

You lean in closer, close enough that if he was uninjured he could easily have you back in control, but with his jaw wired shut and his lack of mobility, he can’t do a thing. Nerves flutter up your body as you lean in, and you’re sure he can smell Yunho and Mingi on you, but the guarantee that he can’t touch you is filling you with a sick sense of power, of sure joy. 

“You tried and you failed,” You tell him, and he huffs, “and that’s on you.”

His cheek twitches and you’re sure he’d be clenching his jaw if he could do it without exceptional pain. 

“You��ll do this for me, you owe me,” You hold his gaze despite the flutter of fear it brings you, “and if you don’t, I don’t care what it takes. I’ll see you in court and if that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure that you never, ever get hired again. Every studio in Korea will know what you did, and every omega in Seoul will know what you really are, and if you ever get close to me again after today I’ll break your jaw myself.” 

His eyes flick down. 

“Do you understand me?” You repeat, enunciating clearly. 

He nods once. 

“Good,” You push back from him and get some distance, “get the charges against all of them dropped by tomorrow and I’ll call and withdraw mine. Don’t ever come back to the studio, if you left stuff there consider it gone.” 

He holds your gaze, and then he writes out a question - How do I know you’ll keep your word? 

“You don’t,” You shrug, “but I promise you I wouldn’t be here in this room with you at all if I wasn’t willing to drop them.” 

He turns your words over. 

“Minseok,” You sigh, “they mean more to me than watching you go to jail, please, just do the right thing.” 

He wipes his hand again across the whiteboard and then he shifts, looking back up to you to nod in agreement. 

“You’ll do it?” 

He nods again and then picks the marker back up to write something. 

“Don’t,” You stop him, “there’s nothing you can say I want to hear. Just do this and we’ll be done.” 

He looks away and without meeting your eyes again, he nods.

“Don’t make me come back,” You press him, but he doesn’t respond and that will have to be enough. You’ve done what you came to do. 

You’re out of his room in a flash, back through the security doors and quick past the front desk. You don’t spare a single glance at the nurse who broke the rules for you, you just need to get out of here before you let the reality of what you’ve done hit you sideways. You don’t let a single thing consume you until you’re out of the hospital and on the street again, and you sink down onto the first available bench. 

Your heart is pounding, hands trembling. You need to get this under control before you go home because the last thing you want is to cause Yunho and Mingi anymore stress or heartache. You give yourself some time to come back into your body, to forget the hard set of Minseok’s eyes and the way his fingers twitched when you got too close, the way you fought the curling panic in your gut to get the words out. 

When you do feel whole again, you order a taxi back. You’ve been gone a while, probably a little longer than they expected, and you hope they’re not worried.

Using Mingi’s borrowed key, you slip into the apartment and let their scents wash over you, soothing you instantly. You shut the door quietly behind you and toe off your shoes before calling out, “Is anyone home?” 

You hear movement immediately, Mingi from the kitchen and Yunho from his bedroom and it fills you with warmth. 

“Hey,” Mingi gets to the living room first, “how was your walk?” 

“Really good,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. The walk itself was nice until you cut it short with your little errand. 

“You look good,” He smiles, and Yunho appears from his side of the apartment as Mingi continues, “fresher,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “it’s a beautiful morning out,” 

“Hey,” Yunho says, smiling at the sight of you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” You say, “I just wanted to clear my head a bit, so I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your key,” 

Mingi shakes his head as you hang his keyring up by the door. 

“We’ll have to get one made for you,” Yunho says, “if you want,” 

You let the implication of that lie and you nod, but excitement sparks in your belly.

“Is there any coffee?” You ask, moving into the apartment and heading towards the kitchen. You need to tell them where you’ve been, but you just need a breath before you can. 

“Mhm,” Mingi says, “I just made a cup,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “I don’t want to take yours, I’ll make my own.” 

“No, no,” He slides behind you and presses a kiss to your hair as he does, “take it, I’ll make another. Yunho, do you want one?” 

“I’m good,” He replies, coming to stand next to you at the small kitchen island. 

Mingi looks like he’s thinking about something as he finishes off your cup of coffee and throws an electric kettle back on to make another pourover, but Yunho draws your attention away. 

“Jagi,” He starts, “I don’t mean to… well, can we talk to you about something?” 

“Sure,” You angle towards him, his words making you a little nervous, “is everything okay?” 

“Absolutely,” He assures you, brushing his hand down the length of your arm, “but Mingi and I were talking while you were gone, about how to handle everything with these charges,” 

“Oh,” His timing is impeccable. 

“We just want to include you,” He says, squeezing your hand, “and make sure we’re handling things the way we should, but it might be smart to try and hire a lawyer before this goes any further,” 

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to say this. 

“We talked to Seonghwa and he agrees,” Yunho continues, “this will be the easiest way to protect all of us,”

“Yunho,” You start, “hang on,”

“If this is upsetting we can talk about it later,” Yunho adds, “but Seonghwa has some connections through his parents, he wants to make some calls.” 

Your stomach twists at the idea of Seonghwa needing to lean on a favor from his parents, and every choice you made that morning becomes perfectly validated with just that thought. You would never, ever let him do that, not after everything he’s done for you.  

“It’s not upsetting,” You assure Yunho, trying to interject, “I just don’t think that will be necessary,” 

“Getting a lawyer?” He clarifies. 

“Yeah,” You swallow hard and glance at Mingi, “I don’t think we’ll need to.” 

“I mean, having representation would be best,” Yunho says, “I know it’s stressful, but we need to be careful,” 

“Right,” You sigh, needing him to give you a breath to explain, “that’s if there’s a suit,” 

“Well sure, but,” Yunho starts but the penny drops for Mingi. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Mingi turns to you fully and the words die on Yunho’s lips as he plays catch up. 

You stay quiet, holding his gaze, but when you let out a soft breath he sets his coffee back down. 

“y/n,” Mingi says, voice serious and leaving Yunho visibly more and more confused, “tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” 

“I took care of it,” You settle on the most neutral words you can. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “you can’t just say that, you have to give us more than that.” 

“I was planning on it,” You push past Yunho to approach Mingi, resting your hands on his upper arms as you get closer into his space, “I swear, you just guessed it too fast,” 

“You smell like the hospital,” He explains, his nose crinkled up. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Yunho finally catches up, “why were you at the hospital?”

You just have to say it, “I talked to Minseok,” 

“Absolutely not,” Yunho pushes around the island and closer to you, “are you insane?” 

“He’s completely incapacitated,” You tell them both, “he couldn’t have touched me even if he wanted to,” 

“Yes, but you didn’t know that!” Yunho presses, his voice running high in surprise, but you can see he’s doing his best to keep level and cool. 

“Look at me,” You settle him, “do I look hurt? Upset?”

“No,” He admits with a puff of dejected air. 

“Am I myself?” You take both their hands in yours. 

“Yes,” Mingi admits. 

“Okay,” You sigh, “now stop freaking out and listen to me, because I promise you I’m perfectly fine,” 

Mingi nods once, and Yunho stays silent, which is enough for you to do what you need to do. 

“I went there to talk him out of the charges he’s filing,” You explain, “and I guess… I just wanted to understand what he did, so I wanted to talk to him.” 

“And?” Yunho prompts. 

“He’s an asshole,” You start. 

“Did he touch you?” Mingi asks, his voice a little tight and thready, “Say anything to you?” 

“No,” You promise, tugging him closer until his hands are properly on you, “come here,” 

“You can tell us if he did,” Yunho’s fingertips stroke a gentle pattern over the back of your neck, “we’re not angry, we just want to help,” 

“Speak for yourself, I still want to kill him,” Mingi says sharply. 

“Hey,” Yunho nudges him, “chill,” 

“Both of you relax,” You interject and they fall silent, “he didn’t do anything, he couldn’t even talk, his jaw is fully wired shut,” 

Yunho huffs a laugh, “Good,” 

You smile, “Honestly, he looked pretty pathetic,” 

“He is pretty pathetic,” Mingi points out. 

“Right,” You sigh, “well, aside from some choice words written out on a whiteboard, he didn’t have much to say or do. I explained that if he didn’t drop his charges things would be much worse for him in the long run… and he saw reason.” 

“He agreed to that?” Mingi’s eyes go wide. 

“Mhm,” 

“Why?” Yunho’s brows draw together, “Not out of the goodness of his heart, I assume,” 

“No,” You shake your head, “but when I tell you, I need you both to promise me you won’t be angry.” 

“That’s unfair,” Yunho says. 

“Just say it,” Mingi nods, “we won’t know until we know.” 

You chew the inside of your lip as you search for the right way to say this, and you know they’ll be upset no matter what, but they deserve honesty. You nod, “I agreed to drop my charges if he drops his,” 

They’re silent, deathly silent. 

“y/n,” Yunho swallows tightly as he gets his voice even, “why would you do that?” 

“He didn’t want to listen to me at first,” You explain, “and I thought it through on the walk. That’s the only piece of leverage we have right now,” 

“But he did something wrong, he should be held accountable,” Mingi exclaims, taking a full step away from you and running a hand through his hair. 

“You heard the questions the police asked me,” You interject, “how close was I to my next heat? Did I know Minseok was in pre-rut? Why did I stay in the room if he was making me uncomfortable? What was I wearing?” 

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Yunho insists, “he used tone, that’s fucking illegal,” 

“I said he used tone,” You counter quietly, “but he’ll say he didn’t and he’ll say I got confused or misunderstood. He’ll use our relationship against you both, and my relationship with Seonghwa to paint… a very particular kind of picture about me. We all know what he did but I’m telling you, legally? We’re on the losing side,” 

“But,” Mingi shakes his head, “that’s…” 

“I know,” You nod, “believe me, I know.” 

“You should have taken us with you,” Yunho says quietly, “we could have talked to him for you,” 

You shake your head, “No,” you need them to understand, “you got to hit him… you got to do something, I didn’t get to do anything but be fucking scared,”

His expression softens, “Oh,” 

“You protected me when I needed you,” You feel tears welling up now at the thought of it, “it’s my turn to protect you,” 

They’re so quiet, watching you carefully. 

“Nothing is taking you away from me again,” You say it, plain and clear, “nothing is taking away you or my friends, I won’t let that happen,” 

Mingi’s arms fold around you fast as he tucks you into his chest and you feel Yunho step close too, laying a warm palm on your back as he leans into you both. 

“Whatever you want, we’ll do it,” Mingi murmurs, “okay?” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you snuggle into the warmth of him. 

“And we’ll handle it together,” Yunho says, “but don’t make this decision for us, make it for you. We,” Yunho’s voice trails, but then he clears his throat and says what he wants to say anyways, “we love you. No matter what happens,” 

“I know,” You sigh, snaking an arm out of Mingi’s hold to find Yunho’s hand and tuck him a little closer too, “but I’m sure,” 

“I hate to state the obvious here,” Mingi pulls back from you so he can look at you both, “but if he’s not charged with anything, then he’s a free man.” 

That thought does make your stomach flip, but you knew that when you walked into the hospital room, “I know,” 

“It’s your choice,” Mingi reiterates, “but I still don’t know if I’m comfortable taking that kind of risk with you.” 

“I don’t even want to think about that,” Yunho says, his hands finding your shoulders as he tucks closer behind you. 

The image of Minseok’s face when you asked about his dance career flickers through your mind and you smile, “I think he got the picture,” 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is hesitant. 

“I told him in no uncertain terms,” You can’t get the smile off your face now, “that if he came anywhere near me again I’d break his jaw myself.” 

“You didn’t,” Yunho looks down to see your face. 

“I did,” You nod, “and before you freak out again, please remember that I’m here and totally fine in front of you,” 

Mingi gives you a truly withering look but lets you speak. 

“Honestly,” You breathe, “you should have seen him, he was lying there and could barely move, and when he didn’t want to drop the charges at first, I kind of got in his face,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten on your shoulders and Mingi scrubs a hand over his face, “Don’t tell me that,” 

“But I did,” You press your palms flat against Mingi’s chest, “I told him that if he didn’t drop his charges he would never get rid of me, I told him I’d make his life hell, and he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t touch me,” 

Mingi’s quiet, his eyes flicking up to Yunho behind you. Yunho sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against your hair and then his arms relax, wrapping around you from behind. 

“I really hate this story,” Yunho says, “but I’m also really proud of you,” 

“Me too,” Mingi’s hand closes over both of yours to give you a squeeze. 

“I just wish you had told us,” Yunho admits. 

“If I had told you I was going there you would have never let me go alone,” You point out. 

“Exactly,” Yunho’s arms tighten. 

You turn your head to press your lips to his arm where it wraps around your shoulder, and you nuzzle a little into his warm skin, “You know why I had to go though, right? You get it?” 

He nods against your head. 

Mingi smooths his hand up and down your forearm, “We do,” 

“I just hate the thought of him seeing you again,” Yunho admits, lifting his head and readjusting you in his arms, “or being close to you at all,” 

“I know,” You lean back into his embrace, “but this is the thing, he got to see me be fine after what he did,” 

“And you got to see him,” Mingi puts two and two together with ease and nods, “and he looked pathetic?” 

“More than that,” You smile, “he looked… afraid.” 

“Good,” Mingi says firmly. 

You remember the way he looked in that hospital bed, his eyes darting around the room. He shrank back when you got close, no doubt the scent of Yunho and Mingi lingering on your skin, and you smile up at them at the thought, “He was terrified my alphas were with me,”

Yunho’s lips quirk and he leans around you to meet your eyes, “He wasn’t afraid of us, sweetheart, he was afraid of you.” 

“No,” You laugh that off, but they don’t join in and Mingi makes a funny expression at your words. 

Yunho slides away, shoulder to shoulder with Mingi now as he looks down at you, “Yes, y/n,” he shakes his head, “he was vulnerable and alone and stuck in a hospital bed, and you’re…” 

“A powerful fucking omega,” Mingi supplies. 

Yunho nods, “And he knows that you could ruin the rest of his life.” 

You don’t know what to say. 

“y/n,” Mingi sighs, tugging you in until your bodies are close together, “if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll lose my mind,”

You move to lift your head and push back, to keep trying to get him to understand why this was so important for you to do alone and why you made the choices you made, but he stops you short. 

“But,” He adds, kissing the top of your head, “it was also very brave, and I love you for it.” 

“Yeah?” You nudge him. 

“Yeah,” He admits. 

“I do wish I could have seen it,” Yunho grins, “that asshole scared of you,” 

Mingi’s hands slide to your hips, tightening their grip and he swallows hard, “Our fierce little omega,” 

A ripple of something needy and unexpected passes through your belly, “Is that what I am?” 

Yunho steps closer, finding a home for his hands on your body too, “You called us your alphas,” he says softly, “isn’t that what we are?” 

Mingi’s thumbs brush a warm steady pattern into your hips and you feel yourself melting into their hands, “Yes,” 

“That makes you our omega, sweetheart,” Yunho eyes flick from yours to your lips. 

The way they say omega to you doesn’t sound cold. It doesn’t sound cruel or commanding, no undertone of ownership despite the content of their words. When they say it all you hear is love. 

“Say that again,” You murmur softly. 

Mingi smiles, lifting his eyes to watch you.  

Yunho dips closer, his lips dangerously close, “Our omega?” 

You nod a little, heat flushing your cheeks. 

“Our omega,” He repeats, pressing his lips to yours. He waits to make sure you want it, he waits to feel you twist in their arms and reach up for him, and then he lets his body follow his thoughts, lips opening and his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

Mingi’s hand shifts, spreading wide over your lower belly, his fingertips at the waistband of your pants. You’re not ready for that, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you twitched in his hands when he first adjusted his grip, but either way he makes no move to take anything further. Neither of them do. Despite Yunho’s lips on yours, and the breath between you both, his hands stay put on your back and your cheek while Mingi just holds you, patient and soft at your side. 

When your lips break from Yunho, settling back down your heels after pushing up on tiptoe, Mingi uses his grip on you to spin you to face him, his mouth finding yours with ease. 

You hum pleasantly against his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders for balance. 

“Ours,” Mingi murmurs between kisses, and then his hands spread to your backside, maneuvering you up into his arms in one quick motion, “you’re ours,” 

You wrap your legs around his middle and sink into the kiss, “I’m yours,” 

“Fuck, I missed you,” He mumbles between kisses, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. 

You nod against him, stealing one more kiss before you lean back, still perched comfortably with your legs around his waist. You smooth a hand over Mingi’s cheek and then reach for your other lover to bring him close, drawing him in by the hand until he’s nestled against both of your sides. Yunho’s hand reaches around to cup under your thigh and you settle your own hand on the back of Yunho’s neck, fingers stroking the shaggy bottom of his dark hair.

“This is nice,” Mingi smiles a little, eyes flicking between you and Yunho. 

Yunho nods, his free hand settling on Mingi’s back. 

“I can’t believe I convinced myself that we weren’t scent sympathetic,” You sigh a small, unfunny laugh, “this just feels so right,” 

“Knowing it and knowing it are two different things,” Mingi says, emphasizing the word. 

“I guess so,” 

“And it’s not like all scent matches work out,” Yunho adds, “we still have to work at it,” 

You nod, relaxing into their hold, “I want that,” 

“We do too,” Mingi squeezes your thigh a little with his wide hand. 

It’s funny how different it all feels now than months ago during your first panicked heat here, how settled you are with everything. You glance between them and ask the obvious, “When we go back to work, what are we this time?” 

“Pack,” Mingi says easily and your head snaps to his, eyebrows high. 

“Mingi,” You blink at him, surprised at his easy reference to such a permanent state of being. Scent matches and compatibility is one thing, but pack is something so much more. All of it flickers in your mind - claims, bonds, tying you together permanently. 

“Someday,” Yunho interjects smoothly, giving you a soft, reassuring kiss to the head, “far in the future, if you’ll have us.” 

“Someday,” The word slips out of you like an agreement, and despite all the fears shared with Wooyoung earlier, you do want them like that. You want to someday be able to give each other that.  

“Then we’re pack,” Mingi lights up at your words, “officially, unofficially, I don’t care. You’re with us, we’re with you.” 

Your body fills with warmth, but you can feel your heart rate picking up. 

Yunho smiles, “What did they used to call that back in the day?” 

“Courting,” You fill in the blank for him, and the word feels strangely old fashioned considering the fact that you’ve already spent a heat with them. When packs were more common, groups of alphas would court compatible omegas until it was sure they were a good match in more ways than just scent. The implication then was something more akin to a modern engagement and you can’t believe after everything you’ve been through with these two men, this is the conversation you’re having suddenly so casually in their kitchen. 

“Well,” Yunho laughs, “we don’t have to call it that,” 

“We’re,” You trail off, trying to find the words, “dating?” 

“Partners?” Yunho offers a slightly less casual word. 

“Together,” Mingi cuts in, “that’s what we are. We’re your alphas, we belong to you, and you,” he draws you closer in his arms to press a soft kiss on your lips, “are our omega.” 

“And at work?” You trail off. 

“We’ll be ourselves,” Yunho suggests, “people probably already know after last week anyways,” 

Mingi nods, dipping forward and pressing a kiss to your lips, “No more pretending we don’t mean something to each other,” 

“No more pretending,” You shift in his arms, wrapping your arms properly around his shoulders so that you’re hugging each other tightly. 

Mingi hums appreciatively, his breath warm against your hair and then he chuckles a little as he readjusts you in his arms, “Is it too fast if I start calling you yeobo, though? I feel like it suits you,” 

You pull back from the hug, “We’re not married, Mingi,” you remind him, “and I didn’t hear a proposal,” 

“You want to get proposed to, baby?” He teases and you shove his chest. 

“Knock it off,” Yunho smacks the back of Mingi’s head, “our relationship doesn’t have to break the sound barrier,” 

“I’m kidding,” Mingi squeezes you, shifting to take a few steps and deposit you on the kitchen counter before stepping back with a quick peck on your lips. 

“Hmm,” Yunho rolls his eyes and slumps back against the counter next to you, one wide hand smoothing over your thigh, “we just got you back, I’d like to avoid scaring you off,” 

“I’m not scared,” You shake your head, and as you say it, you realize it’s true. Six months ago you would have balked at Mingi’s veiled promise of his intentions, you would have told them all their hormones were mixed up and confused. You would have told yourself the same. It feels strange to feel completely at peace with the idea of a real someday with them. 

Yunho’s eyebrow quirks up in a question at your words and Mingi grins, a little self satisfied. 

“Actually,” You exhale heavily and straighten up, “I talked to Wooyoung yesterday and he helped me figure some things out,” 

“Things?” Mingi asks. 

“Um,” Your pounds in your chest, “yeah,” 

Yunho gives you an encouraging squeeze to keep going. 

You meet his eyes and take the leap, “Can you make that call? For me to talk with someone?” 

He softens and nods, “I’ll do it first thing,” 

“Okay,” You say, taking another deep breath, “then there’s one more thing to tell you,” 

Mingi doesn’t say anything, but he steps back closer to you, resting his hand on your opposite thigh. 

“It’s my turn to ask you to be patient,” You give them both an anxious, close lipped smile. 

“We’re listening,” Mingi soothes you. 

“Okay,” You take both their hands in yours, “here goes. The idea of bonding with you both is kind of sending me into a tailspin right now, and I’m terrified that it’s something I’m never going to get over. Wooyoung told me to talk to someone to work through that and I want to. I thought about it all day, and the truth is that I want to be with you both for as long as you’ll have me. You feel like you’re mine, now more than ever, and I’m scared, but I’m also scared of not trying,” 

“And if I can be yours like this for now,” You continue, “without bonds like you said, pack even if it’s unofficial, then maybe I can work through this and make it official someday. I’m just scared your definition of ‘far in the future’ and my definition are different though, and I,” 

“Fuck bonds,” Mingi interrupts, moving to cup both your cheeks and draw your eyes to his, “that shit doesn’t matter to me at all. We’re together by choice, not by claim. If you want my bite someday, I’ll give it to you, but you won’t ever hear me ask, alright? Never.” 

“Me too,” Yunho’s hand brushes down your hair, coming to rest on the back of your neck, “as far as I’m concerned it’s secondary, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’d sooner leave you than push you into a bond you aren’t ready for,” 

You jolt forwards, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and nearly slipping off the counter when you do, but they hold you steady as you pull them in. 

“We just want you,” Mingi’s rough, low voice murmurs, “just this.” 

You feel their warmth, the steady thrum of each of their heartbeats, their scents curling around you like a safe, easy memory. The words find themselves right on the tip of your tongue again, only this time, this time they come. 

“I love you,” You take in a sharp, emotional breath as you get yourself together, overwhelmed by their words, “I love you both so much,” 

Yunho dips back to find your mouth, locking his lips on yours and sighing a breath of true relief against your mouth, “I love you too, sweetheart,”

Mingi redirects your gaze with his fingers on your jaw the moment Yunho starts to lean back and he kisses you hard, leaving you gripping his shirt for balance, “I love you,”

“God,” You smile, every part of your body alight with joy, “I think we might be crazy, but I don’t care,” 

“Good,” Yunho glances between you both, “because I think I’m having a crazy idea,” 

“What idea?” 

“Move in,” He blurts out, and he can’t stop smiling, “fuck giving you a key, fuck calling you our girlfriend. Move in properly, be ours. If we’re together, let’s be together, we’ve lost enough time,” 

“Who’s moving fast now?” Mingi says, but he’s smiling too. 

Everything in your body feels right, feels safe. You’ve been calling this home for days, and you’ve been calling them yours in your head for so much longer. 

You’re nodding before your mouth can catch up with your brain, “Okay, okay, yes, let’s do it,” 

Yunho pulls you up into his arms and holds you close, peppering kisses across your temple, “We’ll figure everything else out later, but at least we’ll be together,” 

“Thank God,” You melt into his embrace, meeting Mingi’s eyes over Yunho’s shoulder, “because I really didn’t want to leave,” 

“No leaving this time,” Mingi smiles softly as Yunho nods his head against yours. 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, agreeing with his words. 

“We’ll get everything from your place as soon as we can, make it official,” Mingi adds. 

You nod, and then a thought occurs to you, “Is there even enough room for me here?” 

Yunho unwraps himself from around you and nods, “We’ll need a bigger bed,”

“For a start,” Mingi nods, “and you need a nest,” 

“Yeah?” Your very own nest, a real one. 

“Oh, babe,” Mingi finds your hand, tugging you in, “you’re about to get fucking spoiled, anything you want, we’ll figure it out.” 

“You don’t have to, I just want to be here,” You tell them. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Yunho says, “we’ve waited for you for so long,” 

“Too long,” Mingi wraps his arms around you both, “way too long,” 

It doesn’t matter anymore what pushed you into their arms, what kind of day you’ve had, everything you’ve had to get through. Not a thing in the world matters but this choice, the safe home of their arms, three of you against the world like it was always meant to be. 

[aemondapologistfrfr]

The Family Disappointments

modern!aegon x fem!reader 

Summary: Drinks with a stranger at an unconventional time brings you some unexpected happiness. Sharing the same feelings and struggles allow you to connect on a deeper level that neither of you were expecting. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, group therapy, mentions of addiction, drinking, smoking, drug use, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected 

Authors Note: i fear i’m projecting my want for a cig, sunfyre the cat? sobbing fr

Word Count: 5.6k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I shift my car into park and sigh as I look at the brick building in front of me. I push my seat back and throw my head against the rest. I take a long drag of my cigarette before tossing it out the window and rolling it back up. I rummage through my purse trying to find the first perfume bottle I can. After a couple spritz I toss it haphazardly back into the bag.

I pull the visor down and look over myself rolling my eyes. My hair is slightly frizzed from the day and my eyes have bags that have been residing there for at least a decade now. I grab my phone and start to climb out of my car. I look up at the building with resentment towards everyone and everything. 

I push the door open and eucalyptus and mint flood my nose. The lights are soft and there are candles lit on the receptionists desk. No matter how much I hate this place I can’t deny that it does offer me some semblance of comfort. The receptionist named Nora smiles at me as I walk up to the desk.

“Lovely as ever to see you, Y/n. How are you doing today?” her soft voice hugs my ears. 

“Wonderful, Nora. Thank you.” I wait for her to finish checking me into the system. 

“Please feel free to grab a snack and drink on your way to the room.” she offers me another smile.

I nod my head and walk down the hall. I stop in a brightly lit room to grab a water before I drag my feet in the direction of the elevators. As I wait for the elevator I wonder if my parents would truly disown me if I were to leave this building and never come back. One on one therapy is one thing but sending me to a group is fucking annoying. I would think they wouldn’t want me to divulge their shitty parenting to a room full of strangers. 

“Well are you getting in?” I shake my head clearing my thoughts and see a man with bright silver hair staring at me from inside the elevator. 

“Yeah, sorry.” I mumble stepping into the elevator. 

“What floor?” his hands hover over the buttons and I see he’s going to the same floor as me. 

“Same as you it seems.” I turn to him and look him over trying to see if I remember him from any past meetings and I do not.

The elevator shoots us up and a sigh leaves my lips once it opens on our floor. I step out and the man continues to walk next to me. I turn the corner and walk into the meeting room. Most of the chairs are still empty and I internally groan wishing I could be one of the people not attending today. I claim a seat near the windows and look out at the busy city below us. 

“I’m Aegon.” the man sits next to me and I turn to him and see he’s looking at me expectantly. 

“Y/n.” I say pulling out my phone not really wanting to have a conversation. 

I hear him sigh next to me and pull out his phone. I’m absentmindedly scrolling through some mind melting social media site and squint when I receive an airdrop. I click it to see what it says and roll my eyes as I see it’s a picture of him smiling and it says “Hi.” in bold lettering. I shake my head trying to hide my smile at his ridiculousness as I turn to him. 

“Seems as if someone craves attention.” I hum with a soft smirk. 

“Is that your official diagnosis?” his smile widens. 

“Maybe some need for validation as well.” I raise my eyebrows and he bursts out laughing causing his eyes to squint. 

“Want to know what I think of you?” he calms his laughter as I see the rest of the room glaring at us. 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless of my answer.” I look at him waiting for his reply. 

“I think-“ 

“Welcome back everyone. We have a new member this week.” Meredith, the therapist, walks into the room silencing us. “Phones away, please.” she smiles sitting down as we all settle and turn our attention to her. 

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the group and tell us a little about yourself.” Meredith gestures her hand for Aegon to stand. 

“I’m Aegon,” his voice slightly wavers and I tilt my head curious at what happened to the confident man next to me. “Um, I’m here because my parents seem to think I’m struggling and never cease to remind me how I’m the family disgrace. It was either this or a facility.” he shrugs before sinking back down to his seat seeming to find his fingernails more interesting than anything else. 

“That was a good start. We can discuss that more in depth.” his eyes snap up to hers worried. “When you’re ready. For now we will show you how our group flows and if you feel comfortable enough you can join in.” she smiles reassuringly to him. 

The man next to her starts spouting off about his week and I drown out his words. I’ve never felt that this group ever really helped me. I don’t want to sit in a circle telling them my issues as they look at me with sorrow. I don’t want to relate to anyone. I don’t need help. 

Aegon catches my attention as he starts to shake his leg. I look over him and see that his entire demeanor has changed. I scold myself for wanting to know more about him and why he closed in on himself so quickly. I turn my attention back to the group and see Meredith staring at me expectantly. Fuck, it must be my turn to share. 

“I’m sorry?” I tilt my head embarrassed to Meredith. 

“I asked how your week went.” she smiles to me softly. 

“It was fine.” I nod my head. I never share much in here, just enough to not get me kicked out or reprimanded. 

“Anything you struggled with this week?” she prompts me to open up and keep talking. 

“I’m still not sober, my parents are trying to push me into a career or a marriage to get me off their hands.” I sigh shrugging hoping this will be enough. 

“How does that make you feel?” I fucking hate the tone she uses. It always makes me feel so broken and weak. 

“Angry, frustrated,” I shake my head not wanting to speak anymore. 

“How do you think your parents feel?” she pries even more and my temper spikes as I have to steel myself to the chair and not get up and leave the building. 

“I don’t care.” I grit out through my teeth. “Why does what I do matter?” I snap and she looks to me sadly. 

“We can discuss this in our one on one later this week.” she scribbles something out on her  notepad which infuriates me even more. 

I pull my legs up into the chair and stare into the circle zoning out. These are my least favorite days of the week. I hate when people look at me with pity. It’s not what I want. I don’t understand why it’s so fucking bad if I smoke and drink. Sure I can see why the pills were concerning, but I realized that myself and not with the help of any group. 

“I don’t want to share more today. If that’s okay?” Aegons voice pulls me out of bubble. 

“Yes that’s fine, Aegon.” she smiles at him. “I will see you all next week. Hopefully some more of you are willing to share.” she looks at all of us before leaving the room. 

“Do you still want to know what I think?” Aegon turns to me as I place my feet back on the ground. 

“Not really.” I stretch out my legs and stand. 

“I thought we were having fun with our game.” he looks at me with puppy eyes and pouts his lip. 

“I must’ve gotten bored.” I toss over my shoulder as I walk to the elevator and push the button.

“Let me take you out for a drink. There’s a place a couple blocks away.” he says before the doors open and I laugh at the question given our setting. 

“Yeah, fuck it,” I look him over. “Let me just stop at my car.” I say as we make our way out the main doors. 

I sigh looking up at the cloudy day before me. I had no plans today but I didn’t think I would end up day drinking with a man I just met. I’ve been in worse situations so I make my way to my car with no care. I grab my purse and my cigarettes and turn to him. I pull one out for myself and offer him one. 

“Thank you.” he smiles resting it between his teeth before fishing in his pocket and pulling out a lighter. “Here.” he hovers the flame near me and lights my cigarette for me. 

“How chivalrous, Aegon.” I chuckle throwing my pack back into my purse. 

We start down the city street and take in the life around us. The silence isn’t awkward between us but more of us settling down. I always feel so worked up and angsty after group. I feel like I have to mend my brain and emotions back together and I turn to Aegon who seems to be doing the same. We finish our cigarettes as our pace starts to slow. He brings us to a stop in front of large glass doors and I chuckle shaking my head. 

“Are you taking us to the rooftop bar?” he tilts his head at my words. 

“How’d you know?” he holds the door open for me and I walk in. 

“Y/n.” the doorman smiles as I enter. “and Aegon?” he looks next to me and I roll my eyes at the fact that he knows him as well while we walk to the elevator.

“Do you come here often?” he presses the button. 

“Starting with shitty pick up lines now?” I can’t help the laugh the bubbles out of me. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” his smile matches mine as his eyes light up. 

“I usually come here after group every week. And long before that as well I suppose.” The elevator dings and we step in. “You?” I turn to him before I turn to look out the glass elevator as we shoot into the sky. 

“I’ve been drinking here since I was a teen. Some habits never die.” he shrugs as he looks out the glass with me. 

My ears pop as we continue to rise and the city shrinks below us. We walk out into the dim hallway and he walks us to the outer doors. I inhale deeply once we step out into the breeze. The waitress smiles at both of us and leads us to my usual table on the edge of the rails. 

“The normal? For both of you?” she raises her eyebrows with a smile and I can tell the staff members of the building are absolutely reeling at their two regulars finally coming together. 

“Yes.” we both reply at once and we all laugh before she disappears back inside to get our drinks. 

We lean back in our chairs and study each other. I narrow my eyes at him and he offers me a lopsided smile. The waitress comes back with a tray with two bottles and two glasses. It seems as if we both like to indulge. She sets my glass of wine on the table in front of me and leaves the bottle before doing the same for Aegon who apparently has also gotten the same bottle of wine. She sets a crystal ashtray between us and leaves us once more. 

“I didn’t take you as a wine person.” I hum grabbing my glass by the stem and bringing it to my lips. 

“This is one of the only bars in the city that carry this.” he smiles sipping from his glass. 

“That’s why I try to come here at least once a week. Gods I could drink this place dry.” I moan as I take another sip. 

“If the two of us have been trying with that goal in mind for a while now it shouldn’t be too far off.” he chuckles shaking his head. 

“Let’s hear your diagnosis for me.” he turns his head back to me looking me over. 

“Let me guess your past instead.” he takes a long sip of wine. 

“Mm so now you’re a fortune teller?” I chuckle as he shushes me.

“Let’s see. Large family, well off, high expectations, you never seem to be enough, drugs and alcohol offer you the escape you need but when you finally crawl into bed for the night you think about everything that’s ever happened to you.” his joking tone long gone as I take another sip of wine. 

“Am I that easy to read?” I sigh settling back into my chair. “I had hoped I was more mysterious.” I shake my head smiling. 

“You have the same dead eyes I see in the mirror everyday.” our eyes lock. “And the same expensive taste in wine.” he grabs my bottle to refill my glass. 

“Well then, cheers to being the family disappointments.” I raise my glass. 

“To being the family disappointments, but still looking good while we do it.” he smiles clinking his glass to mine. 

I let out a laugh and finally allow myself to look over him more in depth. His blue eyes are piercing but they fill with light every time he laughs. His cheeks have become slightly flushed from the wine and breeze and I make the mistake of looking at his perfect lips which turn into a smirk as he sees me shamelessly checking him out. I’ve never been a fan of men with longer hair but his messy silver locks that almost reach his shoulders is doing something to me. 

“Do you like what you see?” he leans forward resting his head in his hands. 

“Do you dye your hair?” my eyes continue to look at his head of silver. 

“No this is all me.” his smile grows bigger. 

“I suppose you are handsome.” I hum bringing my lips to my glass once more. 

“I thought it would take more coaxing to get a compliment out of you.” he smiles proudly. 

“It seems as if I’ll have to fish for one from you.” I go to pull my cigarettes out. 

“Oh no, you’re absolute perfection. The second I saw you,” he shakes his head and holds his hand out for a cigarette. 

“Finish the sentence and I’ll see if you deserve one.” a smirk plays at my lips. 

“I wanted to drag you into the closest unoccupied room and fuck the sad out of you.” I can feel my cheeks redden at his brazen words and I hand him a cigarette. 

“Trust that I’ve tried to have the sad fucked out of me.” I shake my head as he leans over to light my cigarette again. 

“Mm, not by me though.” he takes a long drag of his as he licks his lips looking at me. 

“Someone thinks highly of themselves.” I raise my eyebrow looking him over. 

“Ten minutes with my tongue and you’ll forget everything.” I roll my eyes at his words. 

“I’ve been with you and your tongue for the past two hours and all you seem to do is talk.” he laughs loudly at my words. 

“Come to a party with me later.” he looks to me expectantly as we put out our cigarettes on the crystal. 

“Another bottle for you both?” the waitress walks up with a smile. 

“No we’re gunna head out. Charge them both to my room.” he nods at her before turning back to me. 

“Your room?” I tilt my head. 

“I live here. Well my family. We kind of own it.” he shrugs as he finishes off his glass. 

“How is it that I’m only now being graced with your presence.” I look into the sky as I finish the sweet wine. 

“Hearing my doorman call you by name had me thinking the same thing.” he rises and offers me his hand.

“I didn’t say if I was going to the party with you.” I look at his outstretched hand and then up to him. 

“Then at least let me get you a car to drive you back to your place.” he keeps holding his hand out. 

“Fine.” I huff placing my hand in his. 

“Do you wanna smoke first?” he tugs me to the elevator with him. 

“Absolutely.” I nod my head as he presses the button to a couple floors beneath us. 

When the doors open I take in the clean entryway. Ornate decorations and art scatter across the walls to accentuate the chandelier that drips from the ceiling. He keeps pulling me along and slipping us up the main staircase until he’s pulling me into another room. This room is completely different from what I walked into. It’s dim and cluttered. He has posters hung all over the walls and on the far left side there are floor to ceiling windows that offer the only semblance of light. Something brushes against my leg and I yelp looking down. 

“Come to daddy. My golden little beast.” he coos scooping up the cat from my feet. “Oh daddy’s little boy.” he hums kissing the cat in his arms. 

“Daddy?” I try to stifle my giggles. 

“This is Sunfyre, my sweet and perfect son.” he brings him near me and I pet his head affectionately as he purrs between us. 

“He’s absolutely adorable.” my voice soft as he starts to push the cat into my arms. “A handsome little boy.” I scratch behind his ears. 

My eyes squint as Aegon starts to turn on some of the lights. I see that half of this clutter is cat toys and towers and this is more of the cat’s room than it is his. I look around for a place to sit and cuddle the orange cat and settle for his massive bed. We curl up in the center as he purrs kneading the soft blankets. 

“Are you two comfortable?” he asks sprawling on the bed next to us.

“Very.” I hum looking up to his smile. “You could’ve gotten me to your room much faster if you told me you had a cat.” we both shower the cat between us with love. 

“We have more.” his eyes light up. 

“Well don’t hide them from me.” I giggle as he pulls me up from the bed. 

We walk down the hall and stop in front of a set of doors. He knocks and when we don’t get an answer he sighs out in relief. He pushes the door open and peers in and tugs me in behind him. He flicks the lights on and begins calling for the cat. 

“Vhagar, come out you fossil.” I hear a rumble from underneath the bed and out comes an angry looking Maine Coon who stretches before looking over us judgmentally and taking a seat.

“Come here Vhagar.” I squat down to her level and hold my hand out. She sniffs my hand then hisses and darts back under the bed. 

“She’s just old and angry at the world.” he pulls me up and I follow him out of the room. 

“Where are we going now?” I ask trying not to think about how well our hands fit together. 

“We have one more cat.” he knocks on this door and we’re greeted by silence once more and he pushes us into the light room. “Dream come out someone wants to meet you.” his voice soft. 

There’s a chirp and the most beautiful white Persian cat uncurls from the center of the bed. She stretches and walks to us and I melt looking at her beautiful blue eyes. I walk over to her and her coat feels like silk between my fingers. 

“Aren’t you the most beautiful gorgeous girl.” she leans into me and plops back onto the bed. I shower her with attention and turn and see Aegon staring at me. 

“That’s how I feel when I look at you.” I roll my eyes and shush him. 

He reaches for my hand once again and leads me back to his room. I take a seat on his bed and Sunfyre immediately jumps into my lap. I rub his belly as he playfully nips at my fingers. Aegon stands at the end of the bed pouting at me. 

“What’s wrong?” I tilt my head with a soft smile. 

“I want that kind of attention from you.” I chuckle at his words. 

“Get over yourself you baby.” he smiles as I pull him on the bed with us. 

“Here you can spark it.” he puts a joint into my hand. 

“So you can light my cigarettes but not a joint for me.” I pout to him and he reaches over to the table and grabs a lighter and flicks it on. 

I push the tip into the flame and inhale. The familiar sting in the back of my throat lulls me into a more relaxed state. I exhale the smoke out and hand it to Aegon. He turns the TV on for background noise as we pass it back and forth until it’s done. The room is hazy as we lay back on the bed. His cat comes up and lays on my chest and I smile petting him softly. 

“I might purr if you pet me like that.” Aegon turns on his side and looks to me with low lids. 

“Then come here.” he scoots next to me quickly and puts his head next to Sunfyre. 

My nails scrap against his scalp and the moan this man lets out has a blush creeping up my neck. I continue to brush my fingers through his hair which I have to admit is very soft. After a couple minutes of silence he lets out soft snores. I contain my giggles while I keep brushing through his hair. Before I know it I’m drifting off with my hand buried in his hair. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I crack my eyes open and feel my heart quicken as I don’t recognize my surroundings right away. I look down and see that my hand is still tangled in Aegons hair who has turned and is currently watching TV. I slowly start to stroke his hair again and he turns to look up to me. 

“You could have woken me up.” I murmur. 

“I liked being held by you.” his voice equally as quiet. 

“You have very soft hair.” I hum as I give it a soft tug and he leans into my touch. “What time is it?” I yawn. 

“Like two in the morning.” he turns back to watch TV and I look out his windows at the city lit up. 

“I should go move my car.” I shift to get up and he turns back to me worried. 

“Don’t go.” he says furrowing his brows. 

“I thought you had a party anyway.” I brush his hair back before removing my hand. 

“I don’t wanna go if you’re not going.” he sits up with me. 

“Then let’s go move my car and we’ll figure it out from there.” I stretch once I’m standing. 

We slip into the elevator without waking anyone and exit through the lobby quickly. I’m thankful it’s a short walk during this hour although the streets are well lit. Once we make it to my car Aegon stands at the drivers side and I tilt my head. 

“Can I drive?” he smiles. 

“This is my baby, Aegon.” I look to him skeptically. 

“Oh I can tell. It’s beautiful and I’ve always wanted to drive one.” he runs a hand across the trim. 

“You have a license right?” I nibble on my lower lip. 

“Of course, my love.” he smiles holding out his hand. 

“Fine.” I relent dropping the fob into his hand. 

He walks to my passenger side with me and opens the door. I settle into the seat as he walks around to slip into the drivers seat. The engine comes to life and he turns to me and smiles. He shifts it into drive and we’re on the streets in an instant. I watch him as he relaxes into the seat and steals a glance at me. 

“Relax, Y/n.” his hand falls to my thigh. “If anything happens to your car I’ll just buy you a new one.” he offers me a lazy smile. 

“I don’t want a new one.” I squeeze his hand and keep mine on top of his. 

“Don’t worry.” he rubs his thumb on me and my body heats at his touch. 

“Where are we headed?” I look out the window and watch as the city passes us. 

“No where in particular. What would you like to do?” he asks driving us deeper into the city. 

“I don’t know like food and back to yours?” I have no desire to go out or go home. 

“Sounds perfect.” he smiles and I admire him from my passenger seat. 

He takes us to a drive through and we eat in the parking lot which came with a lot of threats to him about not spilling anything. After we’re done we head back to his building. He parks it underground much to my relief. We wait for the elevator in silence and once we enter I turn to look out windows to take in the night lights. As the elevator starts to ascend he turns me towards him. 

“Hm?” I slide my eyes over to his and he places his lips on mine. 

I squeak before melting into him. He slowly licks along my lips and I sigh as his tongue slips into my mouth. The elevator begins to slow and our lips part. We’re both breathing heavily as we look to one another with smiles on our faces. As the doors open a woman with red hair is waiting in front of us. 

“Yes, mother?” Aegons demeanor immediately shrinks and the smile is erased from his face. 

“Are you sober right now?” she sounds almost confused. 

“I am.” he nods his head. 

“Who is this?” she looks to me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Y/n,” he turns to me chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“Lovely to meet you. I’m sorry of the late hour, if we woke you.” I wince not knowing what to say or do. 

“Do you need something?” Aegon asks and her eyes move back to him. 

“No, have a goodnight.” she looks to both of us before turning and disappearing down the dark hall. 

“I’m sorry.” he turns to me with scrunched brows once he closes the door to his room. 

“If it makes you feel any better my mother is the same.” I offer him a soft smile. 

“It’s never usually that calm.” he picks sunfyre up and hugs him close. 

I walk over to him and brush his hair back running my nails over his scalp. His shoulders seem to relax and I continue the movement. His cat jumps out of his arms and he pulls me into his embrace resting his head on my shoulder.

“It seems as if you need me to fuck the sad out of you.” his arms tighten around me at my words. 

“That was my line.” he chuckles into my neck. 

“Yeah but you’re like some sad fallen angel right now with your glossy eyes and I can’t help myself.” my hands travel up his back until they’re buried in his hair. 

He pulls back and looks at me slightly annoyed but has a smile on his face nonetheless. He captures my lips in a gentle kiss that clashes with his rough hands that start to lift my shirt off. He quickly unclips my bra without breaking our kiss and I groan into his mouth as he squeezes my tender flesh. 

“These are more perfect than I thought.” he groans as he pulls back to look down at them. 

I pull his shirt off before he reattaches his mouth to mine. I groan as our chests mold together. His hands slip down the front of my pants as he swallows my whimpers when he finds my wetness. His fingers slide down my slit before they stop and slowly circle my bud. I moan loudly into his mouth and he chuckles. 

“That feel good?” he continues with his languid speed. 

“Yes,” I nod my head as my breath starts to come out in pants as he begins quicker motions. “Aegon,” I whine as he pulls his hand out. 

He tugs me back to the bed and once I fall back on it he’s pulling off my pants. He crawls between my legs and slowly starts to pull off my panties making me squirm. He groans as he takes in my glistening core and looks up to me with low lids. 

“You said I’d only need ten minutes with your tongue if I remember correctly.” I look down at him spreading my thighs. 

He smiles devilishly before diving between my thighs. I bite my lip from crying out when his tongue licks a thick stripe up my center. His tongue attacks my bud and I arch off the bed gasping. My hand tangles in his hair and he moans against me as I pull. I grind against his face and he pulls me even closer keeping a bruising grip on my thighs. 

“Fuck Aegon,” I whine as my hips jolt against him as his tongue circles my core. 

The second his tongue pushes into me I feel myself ready to explode. The whimpers falling from my mouth only spur him on and my hips jerk on their own accord. I cry out his name as I come across his tongue and he licks me through all of it. He leans back and looks up at my heaving chest. 

“You were right.” I say with my voice still breathy as I sit up and watch him pull off his pants. 

I bite my lip at his length bobbing up against him. My eyes travel up to his face and take in the smile that’s back on it. He crawls back into bed with me and takes my lips. I reach out and wrap my hand around his length and he sighs into my mouth. My thumb collects some of his droplets helping my hand glide smoother. He grunts as I push him back and he looks up to me confused. 

I straddle him and line him up with my dripping core. We both moan as I sink down onto him. His hands grab onto my hips once he’s fully settled in me. I relax around him and begin to slowly move up and down. Once I get more comfortable I start to bounce quicker and his hands move from my hips to my breasts. 

“You were made for me.” he grunts as his hips push up to meet mine.

His name falls from my mouth as I grind into him as he brushes against my sensitive bud. I feel my pleasure coiling as he thrusts up into me hard. I come undone around him and he moans with me stilling inside me. He bucks his hips and flips us over and starts hammering into me. 

“Look at you taking me so good.” his voice rough as he rolls his hips into mine. 

My nails dig into his back as he grunts into my neck. His pace is relentless as I lose myself to him. I arch into him as I feel my pleasure building again. His trusts start to get sloppy as he chases his high. My walls slam around him as he swallows my cry of euphoria as he begins to fill me. He slowly pushes his hips into me pulling a whine from my mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” he slides out of me and lays next to me. 

“I think you succeeded in fucking the sad out of me for the night.” I smile at him and he turns to me with his own. 

“I was done being sad the second I was between your thighs.” he rolls over to me. 

He rests his head against my chest holding me tightly. My fingers brush through his hair allowing my nails to soothe him again. He hums in satisfaction against my chest as we allow our eyes to droop and for sleep to take over. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

and if i make a mini series out of this then what 🧍🏼‍♀️ 

Part 2

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

ps: this is not a cry for help i’ve done my dues in therapy and group BUT if you’re struggling there are resources out there that can help you and you can reach out to me and I will do what I can to help

[winwintea]

how dreamies would react to bailing you out of jail

PAIRING ▸ dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, except jail and chenle being rude at first, and oh karen renjun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i have never been arrested, i am a lawfully abiding citizen. have a nice day. i am perfectly normal and sane.

Mark Lee

Mark has never had to deal with the legal system before, so when he receives the phone-call from you, he’s really confused. “You’re… where?” He makes you repeat yourself and how you got in the situation. “What do you mean you can… ‘bail’ yourself out? Don’t you… have to be tried, like in front of a jury?” You have to explain to Mark how bails work, and eventually he begins to understand. “Don’t worry y/n… I’ll get you out, give me a second.” You can hear him leaving his room and running out, “CHENLE ?? CHENLE !! I NEED SOME CASH.” 

Huang Renjun

Renjun is a little annoyed at first when he realizes that it’s the police station calling him and it involves you. “Well, what’d they do?” He asks, carefully, and as he listens to what the officers say, and his temper slowly starts to rise. “And you put them in jail for that?” He’s pissed off now. Not only was his day interrupted, but you got arrested for such a stupid reason. There was absolutely no reason why he needed to be involved either, so if they wanted him involved he would get involved. “You will be hearing from my lawyers…”

Lee Jeno

Jeno, like Mark, would be extremely confused on what exactly was going on. While he listened to you rant about what happened, and how you got put in jail, one thing would be on his mind: Were you a criminal now? He’s still technically trying to process everything that’s going on, nodding and expressing some “Uh-huh”s here and there to let him know you were listening, but his eyes are wide with concern. He really didn’t want you to become a criminal and agreed to buy your bail. (poor jeno)  

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan cannot remain serious for once. He immediately lets out a giant laugh as soon as he hears what happened, “Yo, can you send me the mugshot? I might make some memes with it.” Obviously you aren’t too happy with this at all, and promptly hang up the call, stating that you were going to call someone else. 5 seconds later though, Haechan calls back, apologizing profusely, “SORRY. SORRY. I’LL PAY, I’LL PAY, SORRY”

Na Jaemin

Jaemin is both disappointed in you, but still worried for your wellbeing, so obviously he agrees to come bail you out, “Are you okay? I’m coming… to pick you up, don’t be scared.” When he arrives at the cell, he immediately scolds you, which he deems as appropriate payment for him having to drive over and rescue you. However, Jaemin will absolutely defend you all the way. Once he pays the bail bondsman, he then turns his attention to the officers, “Look at that face officer! Does that look like the face of a criminal to you?” It’s not until you beg him to leave that he finally gives up arguing with them. 

Zhong Chenle

Chenle does not want to help you at all, “I don’t have time sorry.” (okay rude) But Chenle’s biggest mistake was calling you on facetime. You started crying and rambling about how your life was over, and how you were going to get sentenced to jail time, and this did the trick. “Okay. Fine FINE. I’M GOING.” He ends up paying a hefty sum to get your name cleared from the records and so there will be no trial for you! He doesn’t even ask if you did it or not. This is lowkey illegal and corrupt, but Chenle just doesn’t want to see you upset, and who are you to complain?

Park Jisung

Jisung is somehow so calm about the situation? Like, hearing that you got arrested doesn’t even phase him, “Where you at, send me the location, I’ll pick you up.” You’re shocked too, because you expected him to be in panic mode, but he just comes, does the whole bail process like it’s nothing and takes you home. When you’re in the car with him you can’t help but ask why he was so resolute about the whole situation. Jisung just gives you a nonchalant look, “It’s not the first time I’ve done this. Don’t do it again though.” 

[mogruith]

BG3 Photomode Tutorial #2.5: More Scene Manipulation

Chapter 0: Overview

Chapter 1: Script Extender Debug Console

Chapter 2: Scene Manipulation

Chapter 2.5: More Scene Manipulation

Chapter 3: Otis_Inf Camera Tools

Supplement: Mods and Resources

In continuing from the last tutorial, I wanted to talk about how you find and play cutscenes. There's a couple ways to do this but I will show you my way because I think it is the most thorough way if you need to figure out what flags you may need to edit in order to get this working. It'll also give you the tools you need to troubleshoot flag settings.

In the above screenshot, you can see a cutscene that is meant to be played in the Shadowcursed lands: The cutscene where you play the Lyre to summon Kar'niss. It is a complex scene with tags to resolve and multiple NPCs - some of which aren't humanoid.

I will show you how to find a scene based on a snippet of dialog, how to locate its name and UUID so you can plug it into this command:

Osi.QRY_StartDialogCustom_Fixed("SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster_865adfae-1b72-1ed2-f961-d55abd4fb7b1","S_GOB_DrowCommander_25721313-0c15-4935-8176-9f134385451b",Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1],"S_Player_Gale_ad9af97d-75da-406a-ae13-7071c563f604","S_Player_Astarion_c7c13742-bacd-460a-8f65-f864fe41f255", 1,1,-1,1)

Warning: Please keep in mind, this is still a very finicky process. Again, take it slowly. And please don't be afraid to ask for help if you're struggling. Once you get the hang of it, you can pull out scenes and troubleshoot them into playing with ease.

There's also a good chance I'm glossing over something and not explaining it clearly/accurately. Please send me an ask, DM, comment to clarify anything that's confusing!

BG3 Dialog Reader

In order to do this my way, you'll need to download BG3 Dialog Reader and generate HTML files that include all the dialog of the game. There's already a very lovely tutorial on how to do this, so I recommend you follow it. EDIT: Or download their parsed files from their Google Drive: BG3 - parsed dialogue (1.7).zip

You've probably seen posts in this format before:

So you should now have HTML files located somewhere on your system. You need to search for a line that you'll find in the cutscene you want. Now you need to ask yourself: What line can I search for that is unique to that cutscene so that if I search for it I will get exactly what I'm looking for?

In the Drider-Lyre scene I recall an NPC asking "Did you bring the lyre?" so that's what I searched for. I use the Everything search tool because it's awesome and search for the file like so:

You will need to take a look at this file later, but for now, just take note of the name: SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster. This is the first half of what you need to complete the first parameter in the command at the beginning. And we are going to use this to find the UUID.

Finding the UUID

To find the UUID, you're going to need another tool. The BG3 Modder's Multitool. Go to their GitHub, look along the right column and click on the link in the Releases section.

After that, click on bg3-modders-multitool.zip to download it. Extract the files to a new folder somewhere handy and run bg3-modders-multitool.exe.

In BG3 Modder's Multitool, click on Configuration and set the bg3.exe location to your Baldur's Gate 3 executable (E:\Program Files (x86)\Steam\steamapps\common\Baldurs Gate 3\bin or something along those lines). The Documents folder should auto-populate but you may want to double check it.

Now click in Search Index. It's going to start a process where it searches through the BG3 files. This can take a while the first time, but will be instant after that.

Once it's complete, you can now take the name of the scene and pop it into the new Index Search window that popped up.

In the results on the left, there will be a lot of files that list it, but I generally look for ones that say Assets\Dialogs\[PAK] and end in _merged.lsf and click on it. Then click Convert & Open.

This should open in Notepad or Notepad++. Now search this file for "SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster" - keep in mind there can be MULTIPLE results. Note that the first instance you will get is SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster_AtTower. This is the wrong scene.

You are now looking in the code a couple lines above that string for a value that is an ID type and has a value that's a lot of letters and numbers. This is the UUID.

So you have what you need to create this first parameter. Combine SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster with the string of letters and numbers separated by an underscore. Like so:

SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster_865adfae-1b72-1ed2-f961-d55abd4fb7b1

Plugging into the StartDialogCustom Command

Note that this copies straight in to this command in the first parameter:

Osi.QRY_StartDialogCustom_Fixed("SCL_Drider_Caravan_HalfOrcCaster_865adfae-1b72-1ed2-f961-d55abd4fb7b1", "S_GOB_DrowCommander_25721313-0c15-4935-8176-9f134385451b", Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1], "S_Player_Gale_ad9af97d-75da-406a-ae13-7071c563f604", "S_Player_Astarion_c7c13742-bacd-460a-8f65-f864fe41f255" ,1,1,-1,1)

Now on first glance this looks pretty much like other times I've shown you this command, except note that there's FOUR actors. When a cutscene doesn't play at first (after double checking the UUID), this is very often the reason why. This is the minimum because the roles for the half-orc and Karniss need to be filled. First position is Kansif the Half-Orc, second is Tav, third is Brawler Vez, and fourth is Kar'niss.

Note: Kar'niss CAN be played by a non-Drider NPC - they will float angrily around carrying the lantern. It's hilarious. Try it. Here's when I tried it with my Tav:

Setting and Clearing Flags

Now. Depending on where and when you play this scene, the scene may or may not play or it will quit early. There could be a few reasons for that. The UUID could be wrong, the number of actors could be wrong, or a flag could be set that's not supposed to be set.

Let's have a look at the BG3 Dialog Reader file for this scene to see what flags are in use.

By default you should be able to see checkflags (blue) and setflags (orange). Look at the top of the page for a reminder of what the colors mean. The blue check flags are checking to see if the flag is set or not. If SCL_Drider_HasMet_CaravanFirstTime = False then you have met the drider caravan yet and this line will play. You will notice that after that is the orange SCL_Drider_HasMet_CaravanFirstTime setflag. That means the game will NOW set the flag as you have now met the Caravan for the first time. There may be occasions where you need to change the flags to get a cutscene to play. Here's the good news: There's handy commands for that!

print(GetFlag("flag",Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1]))

Osi.ClearFlag("flag", Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1])

Osi.SetFlag("flag",Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1])

The bad news is you will have to find the UUID for each flag! So we gotta go back into BG3 Modders Multitool and search for the flag SCL_Drider_HasMet_CaravanFirstTime

Thankfully, you'll only get one result and the big string of letters and numbers is the UUID you need.

Now you combine them like you did with the cutscene name and UUID before, separated by an underscore: SCL_Drider_HasMet_CaravanFirstTime_39e94029-84f7-418d-ddce-8947bcbb7688

So let's say the cutscene isn't playing because you're on a save where that scene has already played. Clear the flag on your Tav: Osi.ClearFlag("SCL_Drider_HasMet_CaravanFirstTime_39e94029-84f7-418d-ddce-8947bcbb76", Osi.DB_Avatars:Get(nil)[1][1])

And I think we will leave it at that. I realize this was a LOT to cover. Go through this very slowly. It will take time to understand what is happening here.

And as always, if you have something you're trying to do and you're struggling with the directions, I can try to help! Please send me a DM, Ask, whatever else and I'll gladly help you with whatever you're trying to do.

Thanks for reading and sticking through this so far!

[medpocarchive]

Hello, first time making a request here:)

But what if it's an au or something similar? the is reader is a frail ass human and med poc is taking care of them?(Childhood friends btw...hihihi)

Hihihi! I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting, I love writing MP. I had something similar to this written already because I write a lot for myself. SFW. Childhood friends to whatever this is. Kind of angsty. ~1000 words

Medpoc x sickly reader!

You have always been the frail one.

Being born with a body that was so frail wasn't easy. Every cold you got equaled about one week in the hospital. It always felt like it might be your last. You missed more school than you attended, and your body hurt in ways doctors couldn’t explain. Only with long words and pitiful expressions.

But you did have one friend.

Medicine Pocket, they never blinked at your IV lines, they also never wore matching socks. You two went to school together. They didn’t flinch when you coughed blood into your sleeve. They sometimes sat beside your hospital bed with half a jar of lollipops.

“You need something else in your system,” they once said when you two were young. “Normal things aren’t helping.” You didn't really want to listen to the person who told you they wanted to inject themself with jellyfish goo.

When you two were younger, they always brought you weird gifts when you were in the hospital. They never treated you like a patient. Just like any other friend. One time you remembered they gave you a kiss on the forehead while you were falling asleep, but it was so light it might’ve been a mistake.

Now, years later, you’re not in a hospital, just a normal bed. It still felt familiar. Your fever’s been bothering you all day, and you’re sweating through your third shirt of the day. The room spins.

“...You're burning again,” comes a soft voice.

Medicine Pocket is sitting on the floor next to your bed. But when did they even get here? You didn't hear them knock or open the door for them. You give them a small smile. "Did you break in?"

"Pfft, your landlord gave me a key! She said I show up more than the mail."

They made you laugh, which was nice until it turned into coughing. They don’t panic. They never do. You felt them put something cold on your forehead.

"Oh, right, I came up with the best way to improve your medicine last night. All I had to do was add some frog saliva." A mischevious grin followed that line.

“Try this,” they say, holding out a shot glass of something vaguely blue. “Tastes like trash, and blueberries. Also.. you may start having hallucinogenic side effects. Could be fun.” They put it to your lips.

You drank it. You’ve learned not to ask questions. Everything they give you is wild, borderline unsafe, but it always helps.

Later on, when the room has cooled, after a nap, you wake to a strange silence.

You think they’ve left. Usually it’s always loud and chaotic when they’re around. But not now.

They’re curled up at the edge of your bed, just like a dog next to their owner. Head resting against your leg. Their face is turned away from you, tucked into their arm. And they look exhausted. You don't see them like that often.

Their normally wild hair is damp with sweat. Their gloved hands twitch in small, dreaming motions. There are scribbled notes still clutched between their fingers.

You reach out slowly, and rest your hand against them. Their eyes don’t open, but they shift closer, as if drawn to your warmth.

A quiet murmur escapes them.

You fall asleep with their weight pressed gently against you.

…

It's a few hours into the next morning. You've made some tea. The tea is almost warm now, but your hands won’t stop shaking long enough to bring it to your mouth without spilling.

You try it anyway.

The ceramic cup accidentally tilts in your hands, sending a hot splash across your knuckles. You curse softly, hiss through your teeth, and grab a nearby towel with trembling fingers.

From across the cluttered room, Medicine Pocket’s head lifts like a dog spotting danger. Only in this case, the danger is just you attempting autonomy.

They materialize beside you before you’ve even finished blotting your hand, peering at your flushed face and dripping sleeve.

“Did you just burn yourself with my tea?” they ask, almost offended.

You glare at them. “I made it.”

They blink. “Oh. Then this is a tragedy you have brought upon yourself!”

You want to laugh, but you’re too tired. Your muscles ache, your fingers twitch which you can’t control, and now your hands smell like medicine.

Medicine Pocket lifts the mug from your hand as if rescuing a wounded animal.

They sniff it. Sip it. Pause.

“This is… bad,” they say solemnly. “It tastes like shame.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I know, leave it. I was trying to do something myself today.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the clink of the cup being set aside, a shuffle of their coat, and then something plastic slides into view.

A pink bendy straw. You just stare at it.

They smile, mischievous and lopsided. “Solution: you sip, I hold. Perfect division.”

“I am not drinking through-”

“You are,” they interrupt, gently but firmly. “Your hands are being little jerks. My hands are fine. Let me do the holding. You do the sipping. It’s teamwork! Like when we opened that pickle jar.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m always serious,” they say, sticking the straw in the mug. “About the things that matter.”

And somehow, without quite agreeing, you find yourself leaning forward while they lift the cup with the straw angled toward your mouth. You take a cautious sip.

It’s still terrible.

Somehow it feels better though.

Maybe it’s the fact that their hand is steady where yours isn’t. Or it’s the fact that they don’t look at you with pity. Like this is just another strange little thing you two do, no weirder than arguing about whether pinecones have medicinal value.

They hold the mug until you’ve had enough. Only then they set it down.

“What now?” you ask wearily.

“Next time I’ll make the tea,” they say, grinning like they haven’t slept in days. You’re still tired, but you smile back.

[scoonsalicious]

6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way! 

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something. 

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[someone-writing]

Today's menu:⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ Headcanon 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Dr.Spencer Reid, the kind of man who fell in love with them somewhere between the aisles of ice cream and frozen pizza. gender neutral!reader x Spencer

Spencer Reid… is, in my eyes, a man who appreciates good music outside of the classical world, but he never quite understood the hype about most song lyrics or melodies.

But the night when his partner had just finished dinner, he was tired after a long case, and the playlist was slowly inching toward its end… Under Pressure came on.

It started innocently: his partner softly humming and swinging their head to the rhythm as they were washing some of the dishes.

It ended with forgotten dishes, the song turned all the way up, and dancing around the living room, giddily whispering the last parts of the lyrics in the company of David Bowie’s voice to the man who holds them.

⋆. Because love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night… ˚⋆

“You know…” The whisper against their ear was soft. “The day I’m... I'm going to marry you… I know it sounds weird, but… I think I’d rather hold you to Bowie than Paillard, even though that’s… traditionally the one, right? I-I mean, Canon in D is statistically one of the most used wedding songs in history...

But I think… I don’t want to add to that statistic this time. Because that--that song just feels more like us. More like what I didn’t know I needed… until you didn’t yell at me for the coffee thing.”

A small breath in. A dry swallow.

“I think... that I want to hold you in my arms and listen to David Bowie as he describes the way I’ve felt since the day I tripped over my feet, spilled coffee on you, and you, instead of sending me to hell. you… you asked me to repeat it, but add a coffee invitation.”

𐙚˚࿔...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Spencer Reid... is a man with more than enough on his plate. But the moment he notices something is wrong with his partner, he drops anything and everything—that isn’t literally breathing down his neck or threatening to get him killed or fired—and he becomes the best support system he can possibly piece together.

There’s a difference, of course, between a fresh relationship and a long-term one.

In a new relationship, he doesn’t quite know his footing yet. So, he just starts doing small things.

Washed dishes without saying a word when he’s staying over? Done. Silently prepping everything his partner might need for the next workday? Done. Staying up late when they need to work on something? He’s there—taking his own notes, helping to keep things organized, even preparing a cup (or two) of green tea.

He doesn’t always know how to talk to his partner yet, but he’s doing everything he can to take the weight off their shoulders in small, meaningful ways.

But once he’s in a long-term relationship?

The first question is always: Do you want to be heard, or do you want help?

If things are tough, he usually knows before the first sigh that leaves their lips. And if his partner is okay with touch, he leans in carefully and rests his head on their shoulder, hands gently running up and down their arm, maybe even a quiet side hug.

"Eight minutes. Tell me anything and everything. You don’t even have to talk about it. Just... speak to me."

𐙚˚࿔...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Spencer Reid... knows how to knit and he gave his partner the scarf he knitted for his Fourth Doctor costume because they’ve been wearing it anyway, and he loves the idea that, when he wears it to the next convention, it’s been lived in. It’s loved, even through normal life.

And he folds like a chair if his partner ever knits, crochets, or sews something for him.

𐙚˚࿔...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Spencer Reid... who has seen nearly every documentary under the sun, but his soft spot? BBC nature documentaries narrated by Sir David Attenborough.

His partner loves to imitate the voice once in a while and describe what the “genius” is currently doing, and yes, Spencer fights back in kind.

“And here we can see Homo sapiens sapiens domesticus on their next hunt for cheese sticks. It’s a ritualistic behaviour, but it’s unusual to see them leave their den this early in the evening... Perhaps the hunger is greater than we expected. We will see if the hunt is successful this time…” And he has always a hard time to keep the grin from his face.

𐙚˚࿔...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Spencer Reid... who is totally up to the night snacks.

He grumbles that it’s definitely not healthy for either of them when they’re dragging a chocolate cake back from the 24/7 shop down the corner—but life is too short. He may not come back home from the next case or case after that.

He knows what it means to not come home. 

So what is life, really, without 2 a.m. cake and his partner snuggled against his side while they watch the city lights flicker below the window?

𐙚˚࿔...𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Spencer Reid... in my eyes, is the kind of man who wants to do dates right.

He tries: expensive restaurants, bouquets of flowers, candlelight. He follows the social scripts. He means well.

But the night his partner suggested ditching the fancy restaurant they’d booked, he thought he’d done everything wrong. That was all he knew about how romance was supposed to work.

Until that moment.

But when they took his hand in theirs and started the conversation about how his day was and then announcing that they were craving cheap ramen and sweets, he understood more.

There was something magical about two overdressed people walking through evening-time Washington D.C., making their way to Chinatown.

Watching the confused old man behind the counter as they stepped into the shop… wandering the aisles, searching for gummy worms and those off-brand Snickers bars—he started to see the beauty in it.

The way the milky store lights danced in their eyes as they held up a gummy eyeball next to theirs and made a face. The way they asked if he could handle extra spicy ramen. The question about which of the sodas looked more radioactive. The half-hour hunt through the freezers for that one specific type of ice cream he definitely needed to try in their opinion because everyone should taste that awful blue ice cream with chocolate lentils in it.

“Every child should taste that awful blue one with the chocolate lentils in it,” they’d said. “I want to see you give a treat to the small boy you used to be. The one who deserved this. Bit overdue, but... I think he would like it. And I think the adult you will hate it with a passion.”

Yeah. He fell in love with them even more.

Right there, between the aisles of ice cream and frozen pizza.

Guess who is stuck with the series? So, here is at least a bit more of the headcanon I'm entertaining myself with for now. This one is mostly relationship focused one... but I want to do a few 'normal life' ones too in the near future. And I may try to write a short piece about the store date... Well, that would be it for today! In case I don't see ya, good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

[shadowfromthestarlight]

Vague thoughts on Trump 2.0

Most of us who voted for him were playing the long game. Maybe I'm speaking for myself, but I certainly didn't expect the "Golden Age of America" to arrive by this month. I expected resistance, and maybe even a little chaos, but made the gamble that it would be worth it. It wasn't about "cheap eggs" in 2025, it was about what the world would look like in 2035, and beyond.

We should be excited that we have someone who isn't willing to "play by the rules" and actually follows through on his promises to shake things up. Millions of people say they want change or even that they hate "the system" and want it to come crashing down, and then freak out when it shows signs of actually happening.

I'm willing to go through a few years of uncertainty. And the recent meltdowns I see from mainstream sources have me very curious indeed about how things will play out... and very willing to exercise patience.

Trump is still making the right people unhappy, anyway, which is the main thing I wanted out of a presidential candidate in 2024.

The arguments against his tariff plan, which echo the arguments against immigration enforcement, are frequently disingenuous and distasteful. But but but we need cheap goods! You know what? Nah. A lot of conservatives, I included, have woken up to the fact that cheap goods always come at a hidden price. "We need cheap TV's!" Seriously? Cheap TV's? That's your talking point? Honestly, the last thing a society in a metabolic health crisis, with people feeling starved for meaning, purpose, and connection left and right, and practically everyone diagnosable with some mental health condition, needs is cheap TV's. Do we need to even talk about the problems caused by cheap food? We sure pay for that, all right! In poor health, environmental degradation, animal cruelty, and harm to rural communities and farm workers. Also, hello???!!! Cheap clothing, containers, furniture, various gadgets we use around our homes, etc., suck, so we just pay more down the road by replacing them all the time. Come on. We know this.

Recently, they trotted out a soybean farmer who is afraid of tariffs. Eyeroll. A soybean farmer, really? Someone who's wrecking the environment with a monocrop and contributing to the mass poisoning of society with toxic seed oils? Sorry if that doesn't arouse my sympathy. "Learn to farm regeneratively" should be the new "Learn to code."

Anyone not critical of Trump these days is branded a sycophant. Well, I have an alternative explanation. Hitting us over the head with articles about how the sky is falling because of Trump has all the markings of a psy-op. I think that makes a lot of people - including people who would ordinarily be fine with criticizing any president - dig in their heels, and say, Not so fast. You're not going to scare me. You're not going to make me backtrack on everything I stood for six months ago because things are uncertain now. Personally, I have to say the signal it's sending to me is that, as above, the right people are angry, and my automatic reaction is to double down.

Also, this:

100%.

I'll add a quote from Thomas Paine that I read more than half my life ago and has stuck with me ever since:

I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against the mean principles that are held by the Tories: a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, "Well! give me peace in my day." Not a man lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, "If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace;" and this single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty. 

The unorthodox or extreme measures have to come at some point. And there will never be a convenient time for them. They will always anger somebody. So why not let the time be now? Shouldn't we be willing to go through uncertainty today for a chance at a better future? I sleep well knowing that's what I signed up for, at least.