#ff: hurt and comfort

[bvtbxtch]

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Prologue)

Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word count: ~4.7k

A/N: this story is the weird brainchild of me getting a little inebriated and remembering how my divorced parents met and I was inspired. This is my first fic ever and I know it is NOT GOOD, but feedback is always appreciated. This is just the prologue to set up some context for our characters. I have a rough plan as to where this story is going to go but I am so open to suggestions!! Thanks for reading y'all.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

September 1985

Chrissy Cunningham was always perfect. And it was even more annoying because she was pretty, popular and nice to everyone she made eye contact with. That is also why you had been best friends since junior high when you both joined the dance team. When high school hit, she projected herself into the popular group by revolving your high school experience around cheerleading and the popular girls, where you happily sacrificed some of your valuable reputation to pursue both cheer and drama club. Chrissy was always there even though you were seen as less desirable as the other girls on the team. Even if she was in the back row, she would always be at your productions and would happily cheer you on. 

Although she was your best friend, she scared you a lot. She was on the path to a scholarship to her dream school, to getting scooped up by some picture perfect person and getting married and having her dream job. She would stay hot and pretty and perfect forever and as you were approaching graduation, you often worried about what was next for you - terrified of peaking in high school and amounting to nothing. Worried about not finding your own group of people, your own scholarship, and your own path laid out neatly like Chrissy’s was.

Eddie Munson, however,  was the opposite of perfect. If Chrissy was a sparkling smooth personality, Eddie was a jagged edge that very few people appreciated. He was a repeat senior who dealt drugs to all of Hawkins’ youth and  was unapologetically apathetic to the restraints that were supposedly placed on the senior class of ‘86. So when he happily worked sound for the drama club in exchange for free rentals for his DND club, many drama kids turned their noses up at him; except for you. You happily sat next to him at your first drama club meeting. There was something magnetic about him. From that first time you met him, you were determined to get to know him better. Your intuitions told you that he was going to be more than a background character in your own story. 

Two friends from opposite circles, opposite ends of the spectrum. As you and Chrissy left the gym fussing over new uniforms and team drama, Eddie was on the other side of the school picking his lunch kit out of the garbage, nursing a new black eye; and a freshman on his left pacing a rut into the hallway.

“Last time I stick up for you, Henderson. I swear to god…you’re lucky I have extra shirts in the drama storage.” The metalhead mumbled. His dark curls pulled back into a low bun as he dug further into the garbage can. 

“How was I supposed to know that it was Jason behind me? I didn’t mean to fall into him!” Dustin pouted. Eddie had picked him off the floor after Jason Carver had poured his gatorade down his Hellfire shirt. Eddie would never admit it, but as much as he loved his precious club, he cared for his freshmen recruits more. Jason, being the captain of the basketball team, and therefore the resident asshole, gave Eddie the shiner for his troubles, and threw his stuff in the garbage as an extra favor. You rounded the corner with Chrissy as you saw the two boys, both looking worse for wear. 

“Hey Ed - Oh my god your face!” You gasped as he turned around after finally fishing his lunch kit out of the trash.

“You should see the other guy” Eddie chuckled, and winced

“What other guy?” When he does not respond to your question you turn to the freshman who looks like he has seen a ghost. 

“J-Jason Carver. Eddie was just trying to save my ass.” Dustin squeaked, his eyes glued to his sneakers.

“Come with me”. You grab his hand and lead him to the girls locker room. Chrissy hot on your trails. 

After investigating to ensure no one else was in the changeroom, you lock the door and sit Eddie down on a bench while you enter the small infirmary to retrieve the first aid kit. Chrissy keeps her distance, but sits down beside him and flashes him a polite smile. Eddie feels a pang in his heart as he feels his cheeks start to burn red. Chrissy lets out a small giggle.

“That’s really brave what you did for that kid” Chrissy praised. 

“Ahh, there is no way Henderson would be able to take on that meathead. I gotta take care of my minions.” 

Chrissy laughs again, almost too loud. As you pace back to the two of them, you feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and both of them look away, blushing furiously. You take a long sigh as you open the first aid kit to find the ice pack and a bandaid for the small cut that has formed on Eddie’s cheekbone. He winces while you stick the bandaid on and you gently place the ice pack over his eye. His brown eyes glued to Chrissy’s as you tended to him. Once you finished, you cleaned up and the three of you returned to the bustling hallways of Hawkins High.

“Thanks for the help sweetheart. I just wish this was a spiderman bandage or something.” Sweetheart.

“Don’t sweat it Eddie. I’ll see you in rehearsal later” you smiled. Chrissy eyed Eddie up and down as you said your goodbyes and Eddie turned around to go to his next class. 

“I never realized how much of a charmer Eddie Munson is,” Chrissy pondered. You felt a pit in your stomach. As much as you loved Chrissy, Eddie was your friend first. So many of your teammates had put Chrissy as a priority over you, and you always felt like a drifter between drama and cheer - seeing as you felt you didn’t totally feel like you belonged in either.. Eddie was finally a person that you thought was yours, something that Chrissy couldn’t influence, someone that finally didn’t care about your background or where you fit on the food chain. But, lo and behold, it seems that everyone falls under the high school spell and everything always seems to be too good to be true for you.

“Yeah, he’s a cool guy I guess. He does the sound for the drama club apparently he’s got a knack for music. Walked into him playing some Black Sabbath on the guitar in the drama room.” You tried to retort calmly, but your hands were trembling. 

“Black Sabb -?Hmph. I think that is going to give me yet another reason to go to the drama room… Since he seems to be good with his hands” Chrissy giggled and intertwined her arm with yours, leading you to your shared math class. 

“Chris, please don’t just play with this one, I do really like him. I think he could be a really good friend.” Friend.

“That’s totally fine! Nothing’s gonna happen. I guess I just realized how cute he was…Maybe I should ask him to come watch us at the next game, or hang out…afterwards” Chrissy winks at you

“You’d be better off setting up a deal with him” you poke. She giggles as you both take your seats. 

You could barely focus in math, mind racing about how much Chrissy and Eddie bothered you. Was it really just the idea of him and Chrissy being better friends than you? Or were you jealous? That’s ridiculous because you liked Eddie as a friend. Just a friend. Chrissy could go out with Eddie all she wants. You aren’t the boss of her - or him for that matter. Then why are you stuck on the way your heart fluttered when he called you sweetheart? Why were you constantly seeking him out in the hallways?

No. It can’t be. You’re just friends. 

October 1985

Your body was radiating with anxiety during afternoon rehearsals.The pit in your stomach had grown to a full ache in your chest whenever you heard Chrissy talk about Eddie. The more you taked with him, the more you wanted to reach out and touch him, to hug him and tell him that he was the greatest, most interesting person you had ever met. But again, everything seems way too good to be true because every time you hung out with Eddie, Chrissy seemed to make her way into conversation.

 Eddie was teaching a freshman how to use the new sound board and you could barely get out your lines. All you could think about is Eddie and Chrissy in the locker room. Your performances were so uninspired that Mr. Taylor ended your scene rehearsals early. Your scene partner Eric gave you an apologetic pat as you both reunited with the rest of the drama club. Eddie sauntered up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 

“How’s it going superstar?” He leaned his chin on the top of your head.

“Hey Eddie. I’m okay, trouble focusing today. I’m totally flubbing today.”

“Hey, so I had a question for you… about Chrissy”. You tensed up and broke away from him. You turned to face him but could not look him in the eyes.

“Umm, yeah what’s up?” There comes that ache you knew all too well. You could see it happening now, him finally choosing her over you. 

“Is she single? What’s the deal? Is she dating any basket boys I should be worried about?” He poked at you nervously. You tried to let a laugh escape to ease the tension but all that came out was an exasperated wince. 

“No, she’s single.. Do what you want Ed.” you mumbled. You could feel the tears threatening to well up. You brush past him and pick up your bag to head to the gym. Eddie’s eyes follow you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to go after you. What was your deal?

You trudged off the field after an exasperating practice after an exhausting rehearsal. You were so excited to leave this day in the past, grab some junk from the supermarket with Chrissy and hunker in for an evening of studying. In the locker room, Sarah and Tiffany giggle and look at you and Chrissy. 

“Hey Chris, we were wondering if you wanted to come to the mall with us right now. We were going to pick up some outfits for Halloween!” Tiffany briefly meets your gaze and looks back to Chrissy. 

“Yeah sure!” the blonde chirped “We would love to! Y/N and I were just going to-”

“Oh, well we only have room for one..” Sarah sneered. Chrissy looks at you with her beautiful brows furrowed into a perfect pout. You knew she wanted to go with them. You felt bad for making Chrissy sacrifice her social standing to hang out with you. You knew she wanted to go, but would never tell you. You decided to take the fall for her… the undesired yet again.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I got lots of homework to do anyways” you brushed off. “I’ll call you later Chris.”

“I’ll come over after!” Chrissy lazily offered as you packed your bag up and left the locker room.

You left with holes in your heart. All you wanted was your people to stay yours. You didn’t understand why that was so difficult.

The shrill ring of your landline woke you from your desk - having fallen asleep while finishing homework. You flopped onto your bed and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You yawned.

“Babe, I have to tell you about my evening!!” Chrissy squealed, she barely let you greet her.

“Oh, you mean the evening you were supposed to spend with me studying?” you jabbed. You felt bad for taking your insecurities out on Chrissy, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Oh come on now. This will make up for it.”

“Alright get on with it then.” You rolled your eyes and rolled on to your back.

“So you will never believe who me, Tiffany and Sarah ran into at the mall!”

“Ummm… John Cusak” You joked dryly. 

“No you silly! Eddie!” Chrissy yelped. “And do I have news for you!!”

You jolted up and immediately gave the call your full attention. This could not end well - either for Eddie or you.

“Sarah and Tiffany let you talk to Eddie in public?” you snorted. The insecurity seeping through the receiver.

“Well, kind of. We joked that the party next week would be best with something other than just the alcohol if you know what I mean” you could practically hear Chrissy’s eyebrows wagging. “So they dared me to go set up a deal with him… and I could see him practically drooling over me! I think he might like me, babe. And I think that I really like the fact that he does” she giggles maliciously. Attention. As kind and beautiful as Chrissy was, she was used to the attention, she thrived off of it. It worried you, the fact that there were hordes of guys that had been left in her wake so she could have an ego boost or something to do on a Friday night. 

“Chris, are you sure that’s, like, a good idea? What if you really hurt him?”

“Oh come on, Y/N, its just a bit of fun. Nothing serious! So anyways, I went over to his trailer about an hour ago and he asked for my number! Ugh!” Your excitement wasn’t reciprocated like Chrissy had hoped. Her squeals being the only ones that echoed between the two of you.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you excited?” Chrissy questioned. 

“I just - you’re both my friends, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Ugh you worry way too much. It’s just some harmless fun! Loosen up, maybe then you could get some dates yourself!” she chided. You knew she was joking but it was the last blow to your breaking heart “ Anyways, I gotta get off the line just in case he tries to call! Love you!” with that you hear a click and the dead line. You sigh as you put your phone back on the receiver and flop back down onto your pillows.

You always hated halloween. It was an excuse for anyone your age to dress up in some sort of sexy reiteration of some sort of animal or cartoon character and to get sloppy drunk in someone’s trashed house, unbeknownst to their absent parents. That is exactly where you found yourself; Chrissy on one side of the couch, Tiffany on the other, you smooshed in the middle (as per Chrissy’s request)  and half of the basketball and cheer team sat in a messy circle on the floor. How you got yourself roped into spin the bottle, you would never know, but your makeshift devil horns were giving you a headache and as much as you loathed blacking out in random people’s houses, you were nursing your fourth drink of the night (and were definitely feeling the buzz). Between the noise of people talking over each other, the blaring music, and Chrissy constantly blabbing about how much time she and Eddie have been spending together, you felt like your brain was going to explode. The only option that you really saw for the evening was to forget all about it like half of the Hawkins High population at the party. 

Jason grabbed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle and spun it with vigor. Everyone waited in anticipation to see who would be the lucky girl to get to kiss the king of Hawkins high. The room fell hushed as you looked at the bottle, which was pointing directly at you. You immediately felt like you were going to throw up. Since that day in the hallway with Eddie, you always held some animosity for Jason. The last thing you wanted to do was kiss the guy who went after one of your other best friends. Jason chuckled and elbowed his minions on either side of him, all of them snickering deviously. He stood from his spot and stalked across the circle towards you. You chuckled nervously and went to get out of your spot on the couch. 

“Hah, don’t mean to kill the vibe, but suddenly I don’t really feel like playing anymore.” You push yourself off the couch and go to step over some people sitting on the floor but Jason grabbed your wrist. Hard. You felt the world spinning around you, unsure if it was your sudden anxiety, or the alcohol. You could hear the faint whispers of Chrissy and Tiffany behind you, and you were suddenly aware of the 20 pairs of eyes locked on you. You tried to pull away from him with no avail.

“Come on, don’t be a prude. Let me give you the best kiss of your life, seeing as the only person you’ve boned is the freak” He pulled you into his chest and held your face in his hands. He pressed his mouth to yours, trying to weasel his tongue inside your pressed lips. You finally got the strength to push him away with a cry in disgust. You wanted to slap him but your bones now felt like jello and your feet cemented to the floor.

“She hasn’t boned the freak! She hasn’t boned anyone!” Chrissy laughed, not realizing that her retort did more harm than good. You wished the ground would swallow you whole. Finally, you muster your strength to move. You didn’t want any of these assholes to see you cry, to give them the satisfaction.

“Thanks, Chris” you whisper before running out of the room and up the stairs to the crowded living room. You were desperate for some air. Everything around you felt like it was constricting you, choking you. All you could hear was laughter and your vision felt like it was pinholing. You slide out of the front door to sit on the steps. You breathe deeply, looking around to make sure that there was no one around before you let your tears fall.

Chrissy made an attempt to go after you. After rolling her eyes and giving Tiffany a tight smile, she lifter herself off of the couch and pranced up the stairs to the rest of the party. She looked around the scatterings of people, but didn’t see you. She slid her way through the hallway into the kitchen, where her eyes found someone else she had been casually looking for all evening. She stumbled towards a mop of chocolate curls and wrapped her arms around him, hands covering his eyes.

“Guess who?” she slurred. 

“Hey pretty girl.” Eddie turned to her to give her a proper embrace but quickly took a step back. “Don’t know if you want to be seen doing that to me right now” he chuckled nervously. Eddie understood what being seen with him meant and as little as he cared for his own reputation, he cared greatly for hers

. Chrissy looked him up and down and fully realized the metal head’s beauty. Pale skin kissed with dark ink, beautiful brown eyes that shone - especially when he talked to her, lean figure and crooked smile. She felt like her brain was going to short circuit.

“You’re right” Chrissy cooed. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private so we could talk” She took his hand and led him up the stairs to a quiet hallway full of closed doors. They rounded a corner and they sank down the wall to sit on the floor, Chrissy totally forgetting about her mission to find you and Eddie being blissfully ignorant to your conundrum.

You had collected yourself and knew there was no way you could stay at the party. As much as you loathed going back into the chaos and as angry as you were at Chrissy, you couldn’t allow yourself without letting her know that you were leaving and how angry you were. When reentered the house, the first faces you were met with were Jason and his posse of meatheads. You averted your gaze but heard their snickers anyway. You refused to give him the satisfaction or the tears, so you kept moving, keeping your eyes glued to the linoleum. The tightness of your chest multiplied with the number of rooms you checked where you did not see a perky blonde ponytail. You needed to find Chrissy; you needed to give her a piece of your mind; you needed to leave. But everything was deafening. Things were getting fuzzy.  Determined to get a grip and find your friend, you trot up to the top floor of the house, in search of a quiet place to collect yourself. You were met with a long hallway full of closed doors. You continue down the hallway, checking doors to see if you could find a bathroom. When you round the corner of the dim upstairs, your breath gets caught in your throat.  You see Eddie sitting on the floor, Chrissy in his lap, their mouths messily mashed together. Everything came tumbling down. The combination of alcohol and shock makes you wrack out a gasp of air. Both Eddie and Chrissy looked up but with very different expressions. Chrissy looked almost proud of her conquest, ignorant to the hurt you were already feeling towards her. Eddie, on the other hand, looked mortified - turning a bright red. The look of betrayal was clear across your own face as tears threatened to fall again. 

“Im - I’m going to go.” you don’t wait for either of them to get up. Eddie pushes Chrissy to her feet and gets up to go after you. Chrissy grabs his arm

“Eddie, wait!”

“Chrissy, I am so incredibly sorry, but I need to go make sure she’s okay” He goes to move away from her but she stops him again and pulls him in for a chaste kiss.

“Please don’t let this be the last time we do this” she whispers into his ear and drops his hand. Eddie turns a bright pink and leaves her with a smile.

You trudge through the house, tunnel vision honing in on the front door. The urge to vomit increased tenfold. Eddie catches up to you. You hear him calling out for you but you can’t turn back. Too embarrassed and heart broken (and drunk) to be able to handle what you saw in an unfamiliar place, in front of strangers nonetheless. You swung open the front door and ran down the front steps. Eddie trudges after you, clearly upset about what you had seen. There was no way he was going to let this get between the two of you. 

“Y/N Wait” He sounds desperate. You turn to him and roll your eyes. 

“What? Is it not what it looks like?” you laugh dryly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, I’m going home.” You turn to leave. You couldn’t take another person pitying you. You understood where you were on the food chain. Yet another person to think of you as second best to Chrissy.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t walk by yourself this late at night.” Eddie chides. The alcohol had finally given you the bravery you had been needing for the past hour. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t sweetheart me when you are literally going to go back inside and suck face with my best friend. Just - go. Enjoy the rest of your night Eddie. I’ll be just fine.” The tears freely falling down your cheeks didn’t convince him. He takes a step towards you but you turn to walk away,

“Why are you so angry with me about Chrissy? I thought I didn’t need to explain anything to you, but you seem really fucking mad at me”. Eddie’s words stop you dead in your tracks. He’s angry? With you? Instead of actual vomit, the words that come out of your mouth leave uncontrollably.

“She doesn’t like you Eddie. She likes the attention. She doesn’t like you like I do. She doesn’t care about you like you deserve to be cared about. And she likes the fact that I care about you way too much. Chrissy has to have everything. I can’t have anything to myself, but yet again no one gives a shit about me, about how I feel. How much I care because as long as Chrissy is there, she will always be number one. You are just  another conquest for her and ,and she is just using you” You stand your ground, chest heaving. There is a sense of relief that you stood your ground but you immediately knew you said to much.

“E-Eddie, wair-”

“You think that I don’t know that she’s using me?”

“What?”

“Look, Y/N I am really really sorry that you care about me and I am really sorry that you feel that way about Chrissy. But I really like her. So I’m cool if she thinks that she wants to have some fun for now. I’ll let her as long as she’ll have me. Just -  please stop caring about me, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I want to be your friend but, fuck -I might be in love with Chrissy. I think I have been for a long time, but just finally let myself feel it..”

You stood in shock. Your heart shattered to a million pieces. Eddie’s did too. He loved having you as a friend and he loved having you in his life, but he couldn’t imagine kissing you like he did Chrissy, taking you on dates like he wanted to with Chrissy, going to prom like he wished he would with Chrissy. Not you. 

“Forget we ever had this conversation”. You turned on your heels and walked away. Hoping that Eddie would stop you and tell you that this was all a joke, that you were worth it, that you were his favorite and that he felt the same way about you. And even though being Chrissy’s friend was draining a lot of the time, you did  always have her. But everything changed in one night. This is the first night that you have ever felt completely  alone. You crossed your arms over your torso and started your walk home.

The next days and weeks went on as normal. Eddie seemingly didn’t tell Chrissy about your conversation because the phone calls never ceased. She still met you by your locker and she still intertwined her arm with yours when you walked. Eddie's gaze was aimed more at Chrissy and nights where you and Eddie normally hung out were now filled with secret rendezvous with the blonde. Although he still acted like your old Eddie, you felt a coldness from him. His smile never seemed genuinely happy and his eyes stopped glowing when he saw you. You kept quiet in efforts not to lose your only true friends at the school, but your shattered heart was refractured after every phone call you got from Chrissy, every detail you heard about their meetups or how soft his hands were or how great his kisses were.. You felt like you were crashing and burning but you kept up your facade to ensure you could salvage your fractured friendship, and every time you hung up your phone, you curled into your pillow and cried because although things were seemingly as they were supposed to be, you had never felt so out of place and isolated in your life.

You were waiting for Chrissy to come over, books sprawled across your kitchen table in anticipation for your study session for your semester finals. She was over an hour late.You sighed as you pulled out your flashcards and started to review in an attempt to salvage the time you had already wasted. You were interrupted by your phone ringing. 

“Hello?”

“Babe oh my god I am so sorry I am running behind but you are never going to guess what happened!!” 

“What’s that Chris?”

“Eddie Asked me to be his girlfriend!!”

Part 1 when?

[valka-arialitan]

Here's that, as a kind reminder for people to BE GENTLE TO KAIDAN.

I saw the ''Wolverine or Kaidan ; who's the best canadian'' poll on tumblr, and had the SHITTIEST idea to go trough the reblogs tags and HOLY SHIT PEOPLE NEED TO FUCKING CHILL ???

Like basically, people voting for Kaidan were like ''sorry Logan, but Kaidan is my sweet baby boy </3'' while people voting for Wolverine were literally shitting on Kaidan and his fans and MAN ?? I DID NOT LIKE SEEING THAT.

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

And in the middle of drawing this I thought that I absolutely had to make that second part.

Shepard is in his ''emotional battery'' recharge phase.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Twelve

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes. 

A/N: sorry this took so long. but it's here now. HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCHES!

Word Count: 10k+

Chapter Twelve:

“Darling!” Rebecca called as you and Roy approached the restaurant. She stood outside next to a shorter man (obviously), who could only be John Wingsnight. 

Roy stayed back as you sped forward, stretching out your arms for an embrace until you and Rebecca finally met in the middle. “Why does Roy look more pissed off than usual?” Rebecca whispered in your ear quickly, as the men shook hands beside you awkwardly. 

“Don’t ask,” you whispered back, but she only squeezed you harder in response. “I’ll tell you later,” you added painfully. 

“Fine,” she muttered quickly, before the two of you finally parted. She put on a stellar smile. “Shall we head inside?” You nodded, and the four of you entered the restaurant together. 

John reached the table first, and slid a chair out for Rebecca. She took it graciously, before he turned to look at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet some of Rebecca’s good friends,” he said. He sounded posh– Richmond posh. You smiled as nicely as you could, but Roy’s presence close behind you was practically burning a hole through your skin. 

You went to grab a seat opposite Rebecca, but was abruptly cut off by Roy. He reached out his arm and slid out the chair before you could. You hit his eye as he waited for you to sit down, and when you did, you felt so overexposed that you could hardly stand it. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, as Roy tucked you in safely. He growled gently in response, and the four of you settled in for a long fucking night. 

As soon as you could, drinks were ordered in excess. Small talk ensued, but it was made up mostly of Rebecca whittling on about your past placement at the club, and all of the drama that happened during your year there. Next to you, Roy stayed silent unless spoken to. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about this, but even more so after the ordeal on the drive over. 

Truth be told, as much as you’d been looking forward to this evening, you wanted nothing more than to pack it in and be alone with Roy. You needed to address so much, and talk honestly for once in your fucking lives. That was only made more difficult when John piped in with new questions. As soon as she could, Rebecca brought up your article from the Independent. 

“Oh, fantastic!” John exclaimed in response. “I read that article, by the way– the one about you, Roy.” Roy tried and failed to look enthusiastic, as John turned to you. “Brilliantly written, you absolutely deserved to win.”

You smiled. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

“So, is that how this happened?” John asked, pointing at you and Roy playfully. 

You and Roy turned to each other at the same time. Both of you looked like deers in headlights, as the entire point of your double-date lie was finally put to the test. 

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, exactly.” Stupidly, idiotically, you’d never fucking thought about what story you’d have to explain; the story of how you started dating. Roy looked too relaxed for your liking, so you decided to involve him. “Isn’t that right, Roy?”

Roy shot daggers at you immediately, but they were only perceived by you. He recomposed himself as he turned to Rebecca and John, but before a single word left his mouth, his hand found yours upon the table top. You inhaled deeply as his fingers wrapped around your own. 

“She bugged me so much about the fucking article that it was inevitable,” he said lowly. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

John laughed heartily, raising his glass at Roy happily. Rebecca choked on her starter. You’d momentarily stopped thinking as soon as Roy’s hand had touched yours, and had now gone temporarily blind from him calling you babe. 

Roy squeezed your hand gently, and your senses refreshed like lightning. “Y-yes,” you stuttered quickly. “Totally inevitable.”

“Well, how delightful,” John said sweetly, before he turned towards Rebecca. “Rebecca speaks very highly of you, I’ve found.”

“I’d bloody hope so,” you let out, getting rid of some of your pent up anxiety. Rebecca laughed, fully recovered from her choking fit. Roy’s fingers were still latched over yours, and you found yourself not hating it after the initial shock. 

“And you, Roy!” John continued. “Congrats on the pundit gig, by the way.”

“John is a big football fan,” Rebecca said, and John nodded enthusiastically. 

“Here we fucking go,” Roy growled under his breath. You rearranged your fingers quickly, so that you could squeeze his hand reassuringly. He turned to you gently, flicking his eyes over your encouraging face. 

You knew this entire night was out of his comfort zone, including the whole fake dating ordeal on top. Getting Roy out to dinner like this was hard enough as it was, but adding this play-pretend must have had him reeling. It was tough for you, as well, especially after your almost confession in the car beforehand. All the two of you had to do was hold on for dear life for another few hours, and then it’d be over. 

“It was a massive coincidence, actually,” you piped up suddenly, turning back to John and Rebecca. “I’d had this small nagging voice in my head that kept saying how good a pundit Roy could be, enough for me to annoy him over text, even. Then, a few weeks later, he was on the telly! It was weird, honestly.”

“That wasn’t a fucking coincidence,” Roy said sternly. “I’d had those Sky producers down my throat for a month, but only bothered to reply after you mentioned what a good idea it was.”

You squinted at him, shocked. “What?”

“I became a pundit because of you.” 

Rebecca’s mouth upturned into a sly smile. John caught her eye in confusion, but still looked happy to simply be there– probably because he was in Roy’s presence. You struggled to find the right words to say, as your mind catapulted all your thoughts to ricochet off your skull. 

The only word you could physically get out was “Oh.” Your wide eyed stare stayed on Roy for a few seconds more, until you quickly looked at the table, trying to compute what you’d just been told. “Right.” You added. 

“You were right, too,” Rebecca said gently, and you caught her eye. “Roy does make a rather entertaining pundit.”

“And that’s an understatement,” John added, cheesing from ear to ear. 

“Yes, he does,” you said, agreeing with Rebecca, but still hesitating over your muddled thoughts. “Will you excuse me for a moment? That wine has gone to my head,” you let out, alongside a breathy laugh to break the tension. 

Roy fingers separated from yours, and as you walked to the bathroom, you felt utterly alone. Maybe it was the lack of his touch, just in those initial seconds after having it. Maybe it was the realisation that once again he’d done something that you’d suggested, just for you. There was no reason for you to get mad about it. Being a pundit was more than the article; it was more public, more personal, more professional. He wouldn’t have done it all unless he’d accepted it himself, and that was the truth of it. 

Still, hearing that you’d been his reason for going ahead with the gig was warming. As you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your eyes were glassy. Your cheeks felt hot, and it wasn’t just from the wine. Your fingers were clammy, not only from your nerves, but from having someone hold them so tightly for the last ten minutes– all of these factors added up to be caused by one man only; Roy fucking Kent. 

He was so different to you. So stubborn, so grumpy, so unapproachable, yet it had been so easy for you to cut through his layer of steel and get to the other side of his personality. Gentle, caring, and so unapologetically honest that you could hardly believe it. From the way Keeley and Rebecca– even the fucking football team, too– had reacted when Roy had steadily started opening up to you, you knew this wasn’t an ordinary occurrance. They knew him from a day to day perspective, whereas your knowing had transcended the walls of the Dogtrack after only a few months around each other. 

Innately, a switch flicked on in your brain. It’d been over a year of this dynamic. Even including those three months of silence, you’d still thought of each other on a daily basis. Something had to give, and that something was you. This was your opportunity to make yourself abundantly clear– this stupid, idiotic fake dating situation. This was the trial shift, and you just had to show up. 

You washed your hands quickly, and as you did it cemented this shift within you. As you opened the door to the bathroom and emerged back into the restaurant, you held your head high. You walked in your heels like you’d been walking in them your entire life, and when you saw the back of Roy’s head, your heart swelled. 

As sat back down at the table, and impulsively leaned into Roy. He sensed you, and changed his posture to accommodate your own. “Sorry about that,” you said, laughing at yourself slightly. “It’s not often that I drink wine anymore.”

“Get a different drink if you want, darling,” Rebecca said. 

“I think I will,” you agreed, before you took the plunge. Gently, you leaned into Roy, clinging onto his bicep softly. “When the waitress comes around again can you grab her for me, please?” you asked.

Roy tensed slightly beneath your touch, but you could feel him relax as he peered into your eyes. “Alright,” he said lowly. “Beer?” he asked. 

You nodded with a smile. It was sweet that he knew exactly what you wanted. 

Your main courses were uneventful, but tense. You ate in happy splendour, chatting about whatever— you wouldn’t be able to recount the conversation in any state, purely because you were hyper aware of Roy next to you the entire time. Rebecca’s side-eye stares tickled your bare skin. John’s obliviousness kept you grounded. 

It was funny, wasn’t it? The moment that you and Roy had permission to fully jump, to indulge, you found yourselves in a situation where touching the other felt incredibly odd. As much as this entire situation was exciting for both of you, you found yourself focusing on the fact this was all fake– the relationship, the meal, and… the first time you allowed yourself to feel. 

Every hand touch and shoulder bump was being watched clearly. Was it all real if this double date was a lie? Was it all real even if you and Roy weren’t actually together? 

“Darling,” Rebecca said softly, and you almost jumped out of your skin when you came back to reality. You’d utterly zoned out to the point where you hadn’t even noticed your dessert was already in front of you. “Are you alright?” she whispered across the table. 

You swallowed uncomfortably. “Yes,” you said quickly, before picking up your fork. “Sorry.”

“So,” John started, chewing on a mouthful of praline. “Pluto Press, right?” 

Your eyes widened, your heart plummeted into your stomach. You’d been avoiding talking about your job with anyone for the past few months. You swallowed, and put on a smile in panic. “That’s the one,” you said, but the awkwardness practically seeped out of you. 

“What’s it like in publishing? I’ve always been curious,” John asked, leaning in slightly, so that you couldn’t fucking escape. 

“It’s… well, it’s…” You were hyper aware of Rebecca sitting opposite you, and Roy sat to your left. You felt the ex-football Captain stiffen next to you. Concern pooled between you, and he shifted himself to face you more so, curiosity prevalent on his brow. 

You looked up at him, lost for words. Innately, you let yourself crumble. Perhaps it was time to tell them that you had your reservations about work. You sucked in a breath. “At first, it was a dream,” you said, turning to John with a faint smile. “I suppose it always is when it comes to the job you’ve wanted since you were a kid.” You turned to Roy again, meeting his eye. “Right?” you whispered. 

Roy nodded gently before you. He had football on his mind, no doubt. You could see it in his gaze, you could sense him envisioning the green of the Dogtrack. 

“A few months down the line, though…” you started, and gently turned to Rebecca. She was looking at you with a signature arched eyebrow, waiting for you to spill your guts. “It’s been… different, I suppose.”

“Different?” Rebecca questioned. 

Roy twisted towards you even more. “Different how?” 

Different, as in, I fucking hate it. That’s what you wanted to say, but saying that to the two people who gave you the opportunity to have the position? Hell fucking no. 

You opened your mouth, trying to decide upon what words to use, but you never got the chance to say them. A woman sidled up to Roy and threw you all from your conversation. Rebecca’s stare snapped upon her like a lethal panther. Roy perked a brow up at her, a subtly seething look on his face. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, and her Chelsea or Kensington accent was the first thing you noticed. “I just had to come over or I’d hate myself for it. You’re Roy Kent, aren’t you?” She was beautiful in a way that reminded you of the girls who used to bully you in school– in your mind, this was exactly what some of them would have grown up to look like. Blonde, big-boobed, high-fashioned, rich. 

Your face dropped immediately, overcome by a feeling you’d never actually experienced before. Your chest felt tight, your fists balled in your lap, your shoulders squared off defensively. You turned to Rebecca, and the frown on her face only added to the grim feeling you held inside. 

Roy growled at the woman in response, not just as confirmation, but definitely from annoyance. Who the hell interrupted someone during dinner? At a fucking restaurant? 

She ignored his hostility, instead opting to jump up and down abruptly. “Oh! I knew it. My father and brother love you, especially from your Chelsea days. Can I…” she said. As she did, she leant in even closer, bridging the gap between her and Roy, until he was forced to look up at an almost ninety degree angle. “Can I get a photo?” 

Your stomach dropped at the shift in her tone of voice. She was flirting. Suddenly, the feeling inside you made perfect fucking sense–

Jealousy. You were jealous. 

Rebecca went to protest first, but you beat her to it. You leaned forward, and wrapped your fingers around Roy’s bicep defensively. “Excuse me,” you said strongly. “We’re in the middle of a meal, and you’re very much interrupting us.” 

Roy’s muscles relaxed beneath your grip, and you only took that as a sign to hold your ground. The woman before you was taken aback, obviously not used to mere commoners having a pop at her about her wrong behaviour. She let out a nervous laugh, tilting back slightly as she peered down at you from above. Instinctively, you caught her eye and glared– glared for your damn life. 

“Uh.” The noise burst from her lips like a breath she hadn’t meant to exhale. Like a crack in her exterior. “I’m sorry– what are you supposed to be?” 

You saw red, and stood impulsively. You’d never wanted to throw a punch more in your life, nor had you ever had the desire to do so in front of a restaurant full of people, but something entirely new had come over you– and Roy was at the centre of it.

You pointed at her as soon as you were at her eye level, leaning over Roy beneath you. “Listen here, you little–”

“Alright!” Roy burst from beneath you, putting himself between you and the blonde. His arm twisted behind him and found your waist easily. He pulled you into his back, erecting himself as a literal human shield, in every sense. “That’s fucking enough of that,” he muttered, looking the blonde in the eyes. 

Suddenly, she switched back to something more honeyed. She puffed her chest out, showing off her cleavage even more so, and batted her mink eyelashes at Roy above her. He bought none of it, of course. It was Roy, and he could always see the bad in people. Mostly, it was a hindrance, but sometimes… It worked. 

“I’ll give you a photo to fuck off,” he said candidly. 

You scowled behind Roy, trying to adjust yourself to the point where you weren’t utterly flush against the wool of his jumper. The blonde made a guttural noise of offence, however, which definitely pleased you somewhere deep inside. 

“God, don’t fucking bother then,” she squeaked at Roy. You thought that was the end of it, until more drivel fell from her lips. “You need to keep your dog on a leash.”

You froze, but not from what she’d just said. You froze, because Roy’s blood immediately turned to ice. You felt the muscles in his back contracting, trying and failing to shut down his inevitable jump to anger. You could imagine the robotic expression on his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the straightness of his eyebrows. 

This was Roy Kent when he was too angry to function. This was Roy Kent from the fucking football pitch.

Your gut lurched when his grip on your waist loosened, and you knew you had to intervene. Quickly, you slipped beneath Roy’s arm and shoved yourself between him and the blonde. You leaned back against Roy’s chest forcefully, and to no surprise he’d planted himself to the ground like a fucking tree. The blonde crossed her arms, shooting you with a shitty looking smirk that was supposed to make you feel hard done by, but you actually didn’t care. 

You just wanted her to leave Roy alone.

“I think it’s time for you to leave now,” you said calmly. “Before you embarrass yourself even more.” You softened your expression, but not by much. The blonde faltered subtly, dropping her arms to her sides as she became self-conscious of how many stares in her direction littered the restaurant. 

“I was going already,” she said, flustered, but not before she caught Roy’s eye again. “You footballers are always too fucking complicated.”

You and Roy watched her clip away in her heels, muttering to herself the entire way back to her table. A tense silence filtered across the restaurant, until all of a sudden, the hubbub came back. People went back to their meals, your heart settled in your chest, and Roy– his hand found yours instantly. You turned back to the table, shivering with every swipe he gave your knuckles, and caught Rebecca’s eye. 

You’d almost forgot her and John were still fucking here. 

Rebecca cleared her throat. “Shall we get the bill?”

John kissed Rebecca goodbye, but not after shaking Roy’s hand and holding onto his wrist for just a moment too long. You let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, as your party of four decreased to three. Rebecca turned back to you and Roy with an expectant face.

“So?” she said, eyes gleaming.

You hunched your shoulders up to your ears and smiled awkwardly. “He’s… nice!” you said, and for once you couldn’t find any other word to describe someone, but you tried your best. “He’s personable, and financially stable…” you trailed off.

“But?” Rebecca asked, sensing some trepidation. 

“Well,” you started, turning to Roy for back-up. 

He let out a sigh, growling subtly. “He’s fine!” he exclaimed. “And fine is good, fine is safe, but I guess it all comes down to why the fuck someone like that deserves you.” He said strongly. “You deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been been struck by fucking lightning.” 

Rebecca and your speechlessness was apparent, as the two of you glued your eyes onto Roy. You could feel him buzzing next to you, and heat radiated off him in waves.

“Don’t you dare settle for fine, just because it’s easy.” Roy scrunched his face passionately, before clocking eyes with you next to him. His face softened, and his expression resorted back to something more unbothered. “Or do,” he backtracked. “Do whatever you want.”

He shrugged, and you scoffed abruptly, bringing a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from chuckling more. Rebecca was taken aback. She had this golden look on her face that you could relate to heavily. You’d had that look a thousand times before, when Roy had done something to completely subvert your expectations. He was right, though, as much as Rebecca probably wanted to object. He was right, and you were glad that he’d said it the way it should be.

The sound of Rebecca’s heels disappeared into the distance, as you and Roy walked back along the river. It was cold. The temperature had dropped profusely as November set in, and you could see your breath every time you managed to exhale. That was just it– breathing around Roy tonight had become some sort of manual chore, alongside every other normal function that you could usually do in a heartbeat. 

Unsaid words flickered between the two of you as you continued strolling; past Roy’s Jeep, further down river, until you reached the small side streets around Richmond Green. It was a comfortable silence, but far from a calm one. You and Roy had thoughts so loud that it was a miracle you couldn’t decipher the chatter in each other’s brains. 

Thinking back to the car ride, the stares, the feeling in your gut, all of it– you knew something had to be said. But, you simply didn’t know how to put it all into words. Perhaps Roy was suffering the same, as his mouth stayed glued shut. 

Approaching the other side of the green, your eyes settled on the Crown and Anchor. Ted and Beard’s stomping ground was lively, and you slowed down to peer through the windows. Twinkling lights rounded each frame, shining onto the people inside. Beers were half drunk, locals chattered and chortled, and Mae stood in her rightful place behind the bar. 

You smiled. “I wonder if Ted and Beard are in.” Your heart felt warm. 

“Ted lives just up there,” Roy said, pointing to a side street beyond the pub. “He made me tea, at the end of last season.”

“Hm,” you said. “That was before the last game, wasn’t it?” 

Roy nodded next to you slowly. “Stopped the twat from getting hit by a cab. He’d had one too many pints.”

You let out a gentle breath, smiling as you pictured the scene. Neither of you made an attempt to walk inside, or further down the road. You simply stayed glued to your spots, and you thought you knew why. This was nice. Stood beside one another, recovering from that tension you’d both had at the restaurant. But– this was safe. You were both avoiding addressing what you truly wanted to; 

What would come of this?

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling that you had to pull off the bandaid. “Listen…” You turned to face him. “Roy–”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, lowly. “I know what you’re gonna say.”

You swallowed away your words. “Okay.”

Roy’s chest expanded as he sucked in as much air as he possibly could, and let it all out of his nose. He smiled. “I like this,” he croaked. “I like things the way they are.” Your heart sunk ever so slightly, but you were thankful he wasn’t yet finished, so you didn’t have to speak. “I like you and me hanging out, and talking football, and just– I don’t fucking know– this.” 

You didn’t understand him fully, and you had a feeling that Roy didn’t understand himself either. Neither of you knew what you wanted precisely, and that was easy to see. 

Panic set in on Roy’s face. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just– I just fucking–” You stopped him by placing a gentle hand on his chest. 

You attempted to rationalise what he was saying. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe keeping things like this, platonic, friendly, whatever the fuck word you could use, was for the best. It was just like that blonde girl back at the restaurant had said; footballers were complicated, and you didn’t like complicated, even if it was with Roy.

“I do, too,” you said, reassuring him. “Like this, I mean. I like this, too.” You smiled, but it felt sad. 

Roy exhaled softly, finally landing on words you could both understand. “I fuck things up, sometimes,” he said lowly. “I don’t want to fuck up things with you.”

An abundance of thoughts trickled from the deep crevices of your brain. Ones that wanted to yell at Roy to let himself be happy, to let himself do things that he wanted, to not hold himself back. The look on his face showed you just how hard he’d thought about it all. It was the same look that had graced his face for most of the meal– he’d been thinking about this conversation all night. 

You had, too. You’d adopted the psyche of someone who knew that she wanted this. Him. And you’d thought that Roy had wanted the same thing, too, considering the immense build up you’d both experienced. You were certain you hadn’t imagined it, certain that he was ready to give in alongside you, but evidently…

You’d been wrong.

And being wrong was okay, especially when your relationship with Roy was on the line. 

You shrugged away the question in your brain of how a fake date, that lasted less than three hours, had utterly changed his mind after months. You bit away the urge to ask him why. Roy’s thoughts weren’t yours to divulge; they were his, and he’d made up his mind. That was something you had to take with grace. 

“Okay,” you whispered. It hurt to say, it hurt to accept, but you weren’t about to become someone that got angry when someone you liked denied you. You took a small step back, and smiled in an attempt to hide how gutted you felt. “Okay, Roy,” you said, stronger this time. It cemented it all.

It was done, and you had to be okay with it, or risk losing him altogether. 

As the end of November hit, Roy became used to his routine. He’d film Soccer Saturday four days a week live, and one day a week for pre recorded segments that were played during highlights. He got up at seven in the morning, sharp, sometimes going for a run when it wasn’t too blisteringly cold, but those mornings had been few and far between as temperatures hit zero. Winter hadn’t yet arrived, but it bloody felt like it.

He’d have a coffee, and don his suit, before jumping his Jeep to the studio. On the way, a mere two minutes into his drive, he’d pass your flat. It was customary for him to glance to the left as he passed, always, but the thoughts that hit him alongside were something he wished would stop. 

That look on your face, the one from that night– it haunted him. You haunted him. 

Through every fault of his own, he was grief stricken. If you’d asked Roy a few weeks before the meal if he was ready for this, for you, for what could be, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But that night, everything had shifted for him. 

The way Rebecca had glanced between you and him made his gut coil, and he knew it was bloody obvious that you both had shared affections. The feeling that you both harboured could’ve been seen from fucking space, he’d bet. But, then it all went downhill. That blonde girl, the one with the giant rack, and even bigger nose to butt in your evening together, had stumped him. 

Up until that moment, Roy was accustomed to knowing when his anger would jump out. He could feel it coming on, sense it raging within him, but when she’d talked down to the likes of you– it had felt uncontrollable. Roy was a violent man; he was no stranger to throwing a punch to someone who deserved it, and he was content living that way. Just not around you. He didn’t like that side of him when you were near. He didn’t want to fight or kick or punch his way out of an uncomfortable situation when you were next to him. 

That, and Roy had felt the unmistakable struggle of something else for practically half his life. It was nagging, and made his chest hurt. Those thoughts of self-loathing, of exposure, of isolation, were something so ingrained that he’d never thought they would be a problem when it came to actually being happy. But, they were. They really fucking were. 

The truth was, Roy Kent didn’t want to drag you– marvellous, intelligent, too-good-for-him you– into his nightmare of a life. Full of uncertainty, or unfulfilled self-worth, of all of it. 

So, that was that. 

You continued working, but reluctantly. Thoughts of Roy pelted your mind, utterly impossible to ignore. You didn’t have time to ponder the possibility of leaving Pluto Press, or doing something different, not when your workload was stacked high. The beginning of December brought buzz about Christmas, but you hardly felt festive. Roy was working hard over at Sky, as were the boys at Richmond. You still kept up with them all, and getting updates from Sam was practically routine now. 

As you jumped off the tube at Richmond after a busy week, your phone buzzed to reveal another text from Sam, but what he’d written made you stop in your tracks. 

Forgot to tell you. Jamie Tartt is back. He started training again today. 

You flashed back to the ordeal from a few months prior, when Sam had stormed off the pitch after seeing Ted at the pub with the ex-Man City superstar. You knew that Ted would have made it clear about bringing Tartt back to the guys, but that didn’t stop you from feeling uncertain. You wanted to think that Jamie had turned a new leaf, but your gut still coiled at the thought of him back at the club. 

Perhaps you were insane, or over-tired, or still reeling after your fake date, but you changed your course home and headed for the Dogtrack without hesitation. Tartt needed to know what was what, and you didn’t care being the person to do that. You imagined it would be harder for Ted to do so, or the guys themselves after all that he’d done last season.

You stormed through the doors off the car park, navigating the corridors down to the lower level, until you stomped your way through the tunnel to the pitch. You launched the door open quickly, not stopping to wave off the confused stares from Ted, Beard and Nate at the edge of the pitch. The guys ran around on the grass, finishing up their final game of their practice. You cut it all short as you propelled your way onto the cold, damp ground. Isaac was the first to stop and stare, whacking Colin on his back to make him aware of your presence too. The trickle of twenty pairs of eyes headed your way immediately, as you cut across Dani and Bumbercatch without a word, headed for one player in particular: number nine, Jamie fucking Tartt.

“Hey!” you exclaimed to him, and a handful of players flinched. 

Jamie whipped his stare away from the ball at his feet, and slowed to a confused stop as you approached him.  “Hey…” he said smally, utterly boggled at your presence. You stopped in front of him, brows furrowed sternly, as you tried to adopt Roy’s resting bitch face. “What’re you–?”

You cut him off by jabbing your pointer finger into his chest. He stepped back once, and rubbed the spot you’d hit him in. “You,” you said strongly.

Jamie’s face warped into concern. “Me?” he said, and his Mancunian accent hit your ears for the first time in several months. You prepared yourself, and even further blocked out the questioning looks that littered the pitch. 

“See this team?” You gestured to the guys quickly. “They’ve worked really fucking hard this season, after the relegation.”

“Okay?” Jamie squeaked out. 

“I’m not questioning Ted’s decision to bring you back,” you continued, holding your ground. “But, know this, Tartt.” You said his name like Roy would, with subtle disdain, with a strength behind it that communicated you were serious. “Being back here is a privilege, not a right, and you need to know that.”

Jamie’s confusion disappeared instantly. His face softened, and was replaced with something resembling guilt. It was a look you’d never seen him wear before, but one that you welcomed in that moment. He needed to know that things wouldn’t be like last time. He needed to know that people like you gave a shit. 

Jamie placed his hands on his hips, and nodded at the ground. “Okay,” he said lowly, before meeting your eye. You raised your brows at him, perhaps in warning. He breathed out quickly. “This is a privilege, not a right,” he repeated to you. 

“Good.” You nodded, and smiled just a little. “Welcome back.” 

Tartt nodded at you in acknowledgement, and you stepped back to show you were done. The guys shuffled behind you, muttering to themselves as you swivelled on your heels and headed back the way you came. When you looked at the various faces around you, Sam was the only one who was properly smiling. He knew you’d done it for him, for all of them. 

Beard hit Ted’s shoulder quickly, and the Texan jumped forward abruptly, until he walked beside you. “All okay, Writer?” he asked, and you smiled wider.

“Sorry for the interruption.”

“Oh, no bother,” Ted said. “Though, perhaps a heads up would have been appreciated.”

You laughed gently. “Noted. Won’t happen again, Coach, I promise.”

Ted laid his hand on your shoulder, and his confused expression turned to gold. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” you said softly. 

“Got any holiday plans?” Ted asked, as the two of you reached the edge of the pitch. You turned back to the guys and practice resumed. 

You shook your head. “Not really. With how busy the office is around Christmas, there’s no point in me going home for it. I’ll probably have to work between Christmas and the New Year.”

Ted hummed in understanding. “Same as us, for sure. We’ve got a match on Boxing Day.”

You hummed in response, as yourself and Ted looked slightly sunken after your small catch up. You’d always spent Christmas with your family, so it would be odd not doing so this year. You tried to think of the perks, though– a pub roast on the day, a drink with Mae at the bar, and an early night before the match and your inevitable workload afterwards. 

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. At least, that’s what you were telling to yourself. 

“Hey!” Sam called from the pitch, jogging over to you and Ted cheerily. “If you have no plans for Christmas day, Mr Higgins is hosting all of Richmond's overseas players. I know that a good few of us are going this year.” Sam smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Do you reckon it would be okay for me to join?” you asked. 

Sam shrugged. “You are a part of Richmond, and you are away from your home. I do not see why not.”

“Very good point well made, Sam,” Ted said softly. Your heart swelled in your chest.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll come.” 

Sam leaned forward and gently grabbed your forearm, squeezing slightly as his fingers coiled around you. He got in close to you. “Thank you,” he whispered, then pulled back and sent you a knowing look. “You are too good to us.” You scoffed to yourself, just from a lack of how to react. 

As Sam jumped back and headed towards the team, he sent you one final glowing review from home: “We all miss you around here!” he exclaimed, before fully rejoining the guys. 

You gulped back your feelings, the hurt, the want, all of it. If you’d allowed yourself to speak back, all your walls would have crumbled instantly. You would have found yourself immediately saying Please let me come back.

Please, let me come home. 

On Saturday afternoon, your phone was ringing off the hook. Not that you could do anything about it, as you found yourself in an altercation with the newly moved-in upstairs neighbour. For days on end, all you’d heard was stomp stomp stomp from above. It was so frequent and so loud that you’d been rudely awoken in the early hours of the morning on multiple occasions.

You were trying this thing where you were being stronger. You were trying this thing where you wouldn’t let people give you shit that you didn’t ask for, nor deserve. When you thought about it in depth, you were actually just trying to be more like Roy. 

As you slammed your front door shut, you sighed deeply. The footsteps from upstairs had gone uncharacteristically quiet, so perhaps you’d actually got through to them. In the kitchen, your phone continued to buzz incessantly. You bound over and were met with something that should have instilled the fear of God into your bones: over ten missed calls, and multiple texts from yours truly, Roy fucking Kent. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered to yourself, as you scrolled through the messages. 

OI!

Pick up the fucking phone.

You’re not gonna believe this shit. 

I’m going on the air in two minutes, hurry the fuck up. 

Guess you’ll just have to watch my mug talk about it on TV.

All messages were sent in a five minute period, not two minutes before. His last call had been one you’d missed by a mere minute. He’d be on Soccer Saturday by now, so you’d just have to see what the fuck was up as it aired. 

When the first advert break hit, you were smiling from smugness. Not that there was any competition between you and Roy when it came to football– he would obviously win– but this time around you felt superior. 

It was about Jamie’s return to Richmond. All that Roy had been calling and messaging you about was Ted bringing the superstar back to the team, and guess what? You’d fucking found out before him. 

During the break, your phone inevitably rang again. You picked it up swiftly, and didn’t even bother talking. Roy growled on the other end. “Did you fucking watch it?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, still smiling to yourself. 

Roy went silent for just a second too long, and you could hear the cogs whirring in his head. “You already fucking knew, didn’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed again, fully smiling now. 

“For fucks sake!” he exclaimed. “I should have known your fucking fanbase would have spilled.”

“Sam told me yesterday,” you said. “I actually– well, I went to the Dogtrack after he told me.”

“Oh?” Roy questioned. 

“I may have let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Did you give that little twat what for?”

You squished the features on your face together, thinking back to your abrupt arrival and yelling match on the pitch. “Yes…” 

Roy paused, and your heart stalled. “Good girl,” he said. 

You swallowed away the visceral reaction that reverberated through your chest, but still let out a small choking sound. You played it off as a cough, before you quickly changed the subject. “So, are you doing anything for Christmas?”

“I’ve got Phoebe. We’re gonna attempt to watch all the Harry Potter films in one day. It might get fucking ugly.” Roy paused again, and you had this horrible feeling he was about to– “Want to join us?” 

You clamped your eyes shut. Your heart plummeted into your gut. If he’d asked you this a few weeks back, before the conversation, before the date, before all of it, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. Now, even if you’d wanted to go, you wouldn’t be able to after agreeing to join the guys at the Higgins household. But that was just it– after facing the music, and realising that Roy didn’t want anything more, you knew it would be easier for your heart if you stayed away from moments like that.

Moments where it was you and him, him and you. 

“Oh, Roy,” you let out. “That sounds fantastic, really, but I’ve already got plans with the team. I’m sorry.”

Roy knew it was a long shot. He knew you could’ve been going home to see family, but knowing that you were actually staying in Richmond was even more of a blow. You’d be mere miles away with the team, close enough to fucking be around if he tried. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn’t wise. 

It was him that stopped all this in the first place– it should be him to uphold the friendship and not blur the lines. It wouldn’t be fair to you otherwise. 

“No problem,” Roy said through gritted teeth, trying to sound fine. “Really, it’s fine. You’ve been missing Richmond again, haven’t you?” 

You scoffed gently. “You could fucking say that again.” You wanted to ask him the same, as you harboured a feeling that he missed the team just as much as you did, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

Roy copied you, letting out a huff of air softly. “Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.” Over the line, the shrill sound of a bell rang and a tannoy yelled Back on air in one minute! 

You frowned slightly. “Is that your cue?”

“Yeah, it is,” Roy said lowly. 

“You better get back to it.”

“Hm,” Roy growled. Neither one of you wanted to hang up, though. It was plain to fucking see. “I’ll, uh, see you in the new year then.”

“Have a good Christmas, Roy,” you said, almost painfully. 

“You too.” Then, he was gone. 

Waking up alone on Christmas morning was a new feeling. Your apartment was empty, besides yourself and your haphazard decorations, strewn up quickly in the small amount of time you had at home over the weeks leading up to the big day. It was oddly comforting, though, as you operated to your own schedule and weren’t met with the immediate task of dealing with family for a week straight. 

Your phone was full of Christmas messages. Ones from Keeley and Rebecca, from Ted and Beard. One from Nate made you smile, alongside various well-wishes from the local Richmond guys who wouldn’t be in attendance at Higgins’s. 

You drank your coffee happily, and got yourself ready without any time pressures. Walking over to the Higgins’ household was refreshing, as snow graced the ground in all its splendour. Richmond around Christmas time was truly magical, and it made you feel equally as reflective about your time in this part of London. A year and a half had gone so quickly. 

You passed the Crown and Anchor, and smiled at the buskers singing outside. Last Christmas drifted through the air rightfully, and you shrugged your shoulders up to your ears warmly and watched for a minute. 

Down the small side street by the pub, the unmistakable silhouettes of one Ted Lasso and one Rebecca Welton strolled alongside one another. You turned to face them, and could hardly believe your luck. Rebecca’s face lit up as soon as she saw you, and her long arms spread wide to encase you in a hug. 

“Merry Christmas, darling!” she exclaimed warmly, equally happy about bumping into you. 

When you pulled away, she was very quickly replaced by Ted. He wrapped his arms around you instantly. “What a small world, huh!” 

“Small indeed,” you chuckled.

Ted parted from you, and your cheeks already hurt from smiling as you looked at them both before you. “Where are you two off to? Ted, I thought you were having Facetime Christmas with Michelle and Henry?”

Ted frowned ever so slightly. “Well, some things in this life are impossible to control, and I think seven year old boys definitely fit in that category.” You smiled at him in understanding. “Lucky for me, though, the Boss was right there when I needed her.”

“We’re off to play Santa,” Rebecca chimed in. “Definitely beats what I did last year. That was right after Rupert… well. You know.” She smiled subtly. 

“Are you off to the Higgins’s already?” Ted asked. 

You nodded. “I wanted to get there a little early and help Julie if she needed it. Having a house full of footballers doesn’t strike me as something easy.”

“You can sure say that again,” Ted let out. Rebecca chuckled in agreement. 

“What about Roy, what’s he up to?” Rebecca asked. You inhaled a sharp breath, but smiled all the same. You ignored the stabbing pain in your chest, and the hoard of butterflies that ravaged through your stomach. 

You shrugged. “Don’t know.” It was a lie, but you couldn’t be fucked to explain it all. The invitation, the conversation. You hadn’t told her, nor Keeley, about what had happened after the double date. You didn’t want to. 

Ted’s face softened. “Well, we’ll leave you to it, Writer. Have a good one. You deserve it.”

Rebecca encased you in another hug. “You really do,” she whispered. You knew what it meant. 

Roy looked at his phone grumpily. Not that looking at his phone un-grumpily was something he did often, but he was extra grumpy as he traversed his Christmas messages that morning. There was nothing from you, no small text, no Facebook post, no message sent by carrier-fucking-pigeon. 

“Uncle Roy!” Phoebe called, as the pitter patter of her bare feet erupted down the stairs and straight towards him. She crashed into him as he sat at the dining table, and latched herself onto him. “Can we do presents now?”

Roy took one last glance at his phone, before he dropped it on the table. He turned back to his niece, taking in her puppy-dog eyes and features that looked just like his sister. “Fuck yeah,” he said. 

Phoebe squealed at the top of her lungs, before swivelling on her tiny toes and sprinting towards the tree in the living room. Roy watched her go, smiling to himself as she dropped to the floor and started rifling through the wrapped gifts. 

It was true that he wished you were here. You’d probably have arrived right about now, wearing something cosy like a lumper jumper, and holding a bottle of prosecco for later. You’d have brought gifts, no doubt. Some Barbie situation for Phoebe, or another thing suited for a seven year old girl. Phoebe would have loved it.

You would have brought something for him, too. Something that you might have been worrying about for a few weeks, concerned that he wouldn’t like it when, in fact, you could have got him a bag of literal dog shit and he would have still said thank you. 

Roy swallowed away the images that his head made up. He did it often now, thought of what could have been, what might have been his future, if he wasn’t such a fucking git– or, if you weren’t so fucking perfect that it scared him half to death. 

“Julie! I’ve washed the sprouts!” you yelled from the Higgins’ family kitchen. It was a quaint house, and you wondered how the fuck they fit four boys and two grown adults so easily inside.  

“Fabulous.” Julie rounded the corner from the living room, holding two empty plates that only held crumbs. “Another plate of mince pies is all gone. I don’t know where those boys put it all!”

The doorbell rang like clockwork, and with every ring brought another team member, or two, or four. You hugged everyone as they filed into the kitchen, dropping coats and bags and another plate of food until every counter and surface was covered in another cultural dish. It was fantastic, and you found yourself feeling more part of a family than you ever had at Christmasses in the past. There was no drama, no political debates, and no screaming matches with your mother. It was blissful. 

When Dani arrived, the room erupted in greeting. He approached Julie first and offered her his dish. “Mrs Higgins, I bring you my mother’s punch, and some Mezcal on the side, as she says I am already cheeky enough.” 

Julie chuckled. “Oh, thank you, Dani.” She took the punchbowl from him, and lifted the foil. Immediately, the room was met with the metallic scent of alcohol. Tequila was very much already present in this punch. “God– it seems like you’ve already added some to this.”

Dani grinned. “Yes, I may have cheekified this one for you already.”

You chopped carrots a few metres away from them, but turned to Dani with your knife raised. “Someone get me a fucking glass of that.” Sam obliged as you continued chopping, and the group of the guys got themselves a drink too. The festivities were well underway. 

“Here you are,” Sam said, placing a glass of punch beside you. 

“Thank you, Sam.” You wiped your hands and stopped cooking for just a moment, as he raised his own glass in waiting. You smiled and hovered yours next to his, feeling infinitely warm already. “What are we toasting to?” you asked. 

“To you,” he said gently. “Just because you deserve it.”

You chuckled, embarrassed. “Everyone’s been saying that lately,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure why.”

“Because it is our job to remind you of it, especially when you cannot see it yourself.” Sam looked at you softly, and you knew he was being genuine. You clinked glasses, as your eyes welled ever so slightly. It was moments like these that made you feel known, really really known, but also desperately sad. 

Why weren’t you with them every fucking day of the week?

Leslie let in another three of the guys, and as they clambered inside a problem arose. “You’ve become quite popular, Leslie!” Julie exclaimed happily. 

“Yes, it seems so,” Higgins said. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it. Where are we all going to sit?”

You took the roast potatoes out of the oven and dropped them on the kitchen island. “I think I have an idea to fix that,” you said. 

You tucked in your chair last, and looked around the room. A table as long as a train carriage graced the Higgins household, made from the likes of a surfboard and a pool table, amongst other things. Sam sat opposite you, casting you with a golden glow whenever he so much as smiled. 

At the end of the table, Higgins stood up. Every pair of eyes in the house shot his way, and he raised his glass to the sky. “Here’s to another successful Christmas in Richmond!”

Sam raised his glass higher than all else. “And here’s to the family Higgins!”

As darkness set in outside, you all ate and were merry in each other’s presence. Spending time with the team was always special to you, but this moment stood out above all the rest. It marked the start of another year in Richmond, and just over six months at Pluto Press. It marked a year and a half of an unlikely friendship between yourself and Roy, and all the rest.

You ate more than your own bodyweight, but to your utter surprise, at the end of the meal your head was spinning. You took a sip of your drink, and stopped to stare at the contents of your glass. It was full to the brim, but had been almost empty just a moment before. Had that been happening all evening?

You glanced at Sam, but the punchbowl was nowhere near him. When you glanced to your left, however– “I think this punch needs just a bit more cheekiness!” Dani exclaimed, as he poured in another few shots of tequila to the mix. 

You grabbed his bicep gently. “Dani, have you been filling up my glass all night?” you asked. 

Dani nodded happily. “Sí, mi amigo. My mother never believed in empty glasses. A glass cannot be half empty, or half full, it always has to be full full!” he exclaimed. The boys around him cheered and raised their very full glasses. 

“Well.” You scoffed abruptly to yourself. “Shit,” you said. 

Dani turned back to you, eyes gleaming. “Oh my goodness, are you–?” He mimed tipping back a full glass, and you laughed so loudly that the entire table was alerted to you. Dani grabbed your shoulder fondly. “My friends, it seems our Writer has been– how do you say it in English?”

Bumbercatch leant forward, smiling wildly. “Trollied, bevved, battered–”

Dani stood up abruptly. “She has been trollied, bevved and battered!” He raised his glass high, and clinked it with the guys down his end of the table. 

Meanwhile, you were just calming down from an uncontrollable laughing fit. You glanced at your very full glass, and a small part of your brain told you not to drink it. You’d already had far too much, and you knew what you got like when tequila was in your system. On the other hand, you thought of Roy. 

And he would have told you to buck the fuck up and drink the whole fucking thing. 

You raised your glass to the sky. “To Richmond!” 

The guys followed suit, almost knocking over the surfboard table. “To Richmond!” 

As you stumbled through town, after declining multiple attempts from the guys to drive you home or get you an Uber, you found yourself heading elsewhere. Not home, to the comfort of your bed and a full loaf of bread for you to soak up all of Dani’s Mezcal. Instead, your legs were taking you the familiar route to Roy’s house. You didn’t know what time it was, but you knew it wasn’t too late for him to be asleep. You were proved right, as you rounded the corner to his drive and saw the living room lights still on, no matter how dimly lit he liked them to be. 

As you approached his front door, the small bit of your logical brain that you had left was screaming at you to fuck off and turn around. This was silly, you knew, but you couldn’t fathom going home just yet. Innately, you landed upon yelling surprise! or starting to sing carols in Roy’s face as soon as he opened his door. Somehow, those ideas seemed like the perfect idea, and not at all fucking stupid.

You knocked on the solid oak door strongly, ready to surprise the hell out of him, but when he opened the door and peered down at you– all your words failed. 

Roy wore the remnants of a suit, and a fancy one at that. His tie was loose around his neck, and his shirt was slightly untucked at the bottom, but not enough to not notice the belt that sat snug around his waist. You scanned him up and down quickly– or as quickly as you could in this fucking state. To Roy, your checking him out took a solid ten seconds, or longer. 

When you met his eyes again, he couldn’t hide the amused smile on his face any longer. “Can I help you?” he asked. 

“I may have had a bit to drink,” you said, and as hard as you tried you couldn’t stop your words from slurring. “Dani made punch.”

“Did that punch happen to punch you in the fucking face?” Roy huffed.

You nodded. “Juuust a little bit,” you let out. 

Roy moved to the side. “Fucking get in here,” he said warmly.

You struggled to take off your boots, as Roy grabbed a few drinks from the kitchen. He oversaw you in his entryway, shrugging off your coat clumsily. When you stepped onto his floor in your socks, you skidded and let out a squeak. 

Roy looked away quickly, trying to harden his expression. Watching you inebriated and without inhibitions was enough to make his gut coil. You stumbled to the kitchen, and leaned against the kitchen island just to keep yourself up-right. 

He slid you a beer, which you took without question. “I really don’t need this, do I?” you said, looking to Roy for approval. 

“Fuck no,” he said. “But, it’s Christmas.” 

“Right you are,” you said. The two of you clinked your bottles together, and you swigged back your beer as if it were water. Roy chuckled so hard that beer frothed out of his mouth. 

“Fucking hell, come on.” He grabbed your bicep gently, and led you to the living room. 

You practically jumped onto the sofa, and got yourself comfortable immediately. “I love Christmas,” you whittled on. Roy sat on the other side of you, and took a swig of his own beer. “All the lights, and the snow, and everyone together. I just love it.”

“I take it that spending the day with the team was nice?”

“Just the best!” you exclaimed, raising your arms to the sky and almost dropping beer onto Roy’s plush carpet. He took another amused swig, just to distract himself. “How was your day with Phoebe?”

“We got to Order of the Phoenix before she fucking fell asleep,” he said. “She gave it a good shot.” 

In the corner of his eye, Roy spotted the last present beneath his tree, and remembered who it was for. As you busied yourself by pulling off the sticker from your bottle, Roy got up swiftly and headed to pick it up. He placed his beer down as he grabbed it, and opened the card on the top. 

Just another thing to remind you of home. Roy. 

His handwriting was shit, and he knew it, but he thought that now was as good a time as any to give it to you. It was Christmas after all. 

“Hey, so. I don’t know what’s got me being such a pussy this year, but I got you something,” he said, keeping his back turned to you. “You don’t have to open it now, just thought it would be nice.” He turned back to you, expecting you to be looking at him with those large, glassy eyes that he’d looked into a thousand fucking times.

Roy relaxed when he saw you, and a bubbly laugh ejected itself from his mouth. You were fast asleep on his sofa, beer balanced precariously on your chest as you breathed rhythmically. Your expression was soft, and your mouth was open, ready to emit some serious snoring. Roy strolled back to you slowly, placing your present on the coffee table. He grabbed the beer from your chest and replaced it by pulling a blanket over you warmly. You didn’t stir, utterly unconscious from such a fun packed day. 

He’d never seen you like this– with your guard completely down. He felt privileged to know you felt comfortable enough to feel so at home like this. In his house, completely pissed, next to him. 

Something new came over Roy as he made sure you were comfortable, and before he could stop himself, he leant down and placed a kiss on your forehead. Just a peck, and so fast and soft as not to wake you up. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered. 

Roy left you on his sofa, at peace, and turned off the lights as he headed for bed himself. On the way up, he thought about the last year and a half of having you in his life. All the ups and the downs, all the confusion and the clarity– and what a time it had fucking been. 

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl@royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses@sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7 @sareim123122 @jaymum @lwritesstuff 

[sluttywoozi]

Middle Of The Night | Geonwoo x reader

Summary: Ever since the incident at the cafe, you've been having nightmares. One night, you get up for a glass of water and find that you're not the only one having trouble sleeping.

Rating: T | WC: ~2k

AN: no spoilers beyond ep 1, reader lives w geonwoo and his mom and works at the cafe, was present for events of end of ep 1

Warnings: mention of canonical violence, insomnia, nightmares

You wake with a start, your heart racing and your brow damp with sweat as images of shattered glass and a broken, bleeding Geonwoo race through your mind. It’s been a few weeks now since the incident with the loan shark, but you’re still feeling the effects. You close the cafe before dark, and you don’t walk home unless Geonwoo or Woojin are there with you. You don’t like loud noises, or shiny black SUVs, or being in a room with too many men. 

You’re also having trouble at night, and you’re starting to think Geonwoo is too. He seems haunted, hunted, like he has to look over his shoulder all the time but doesn’t have the energy to do so because he’s sleeping with one eye open. 

It’s showing in the ring and at home. He’s been training at all hours of the day, losing sparring matches to Woojin, coming home with bruises he should have blocked. He’s losing focus during conversations, his smiles don’t reach his eyes the same way, and he even declined the last rolled omelet last night at dinner, which is what really tipped you off that whatever is wrong with him won’t fix itself. 

You don’t know if you can fix it, but you owe it to Geonwoo to try. 

For now, you’ll rub the sleep out of your eyes and try to calm your pounding heart before sliding to the edge of the bed and staring into the darkness. This is your routine ever since Geonwoo got hurt and the nightmares started, not that it really works to soothe you at all. You wish you could talk to him and see if he’s going through the same thing you are, but if he is sleeping, you don’t want to wake him. 

You do want some water, so you step into your house slippers and make your way to the kitchen as silently as you can. You normally don’t get up after a nightmare, just sit there in the quiet dark until your brain stops showing you that night, but you’re feeling parched. 

As you tiptoe down the hallway, you notice Geonwoo’s door is shut. He always keeps it open at least a crack, just in case you or his mom need anything, so it’s odd that it’s fully closed. Your hand hovers in front of the wood, your ears straining to hear anything over the white noise of the city. You’re just about to leave when you hear it. 

A hiccup, a rush of air, and then a deep, stuttered inhale, like soundless sobbing. 

“Geonwoo?” You ask as softly as you can, not wanting to startle or alarm him. 

“Mm?” 

Pushing the door open gently, you peek inside. 

He’s sitting on the bed with his back to you, his shirt damp with sweat and his head hung low. You can see the shuddered breaths he’s taking in, see the wetness of tears on the cheek he’s got turned toward you, and you feel a new fault line form in your heart. 

“Can I come in?” 

He hesitates for just a second before nodding, just long enough for you to see that he might be worse off than you thought. The Geonwoo you know would have jumped up, opened the door for you, and waited for you to settle on the bed before sitting a more than respectable distance away from you. He’d be smiling, and bright, and happy, and tired because you’d woken him up, not because he’s not sleeping. 

This Geonwoo isn’t smiling. His eyes are sunken, the corners of his mouth downturned, his frame weighed down by lingering aches and a memory that won’t leave him. 

He’s not meeting your gaze either, his back still turned to you and his fingers squeezing the sheets so hard his knuckles are pale in the moonlight. You walk toward him slowly, rounding the bed and kneeling before him to find his eyes. 

They’re watery and hollow when they finally meet yours, red like he’s been crying for hours and puffy like he hasn’t slept in days. You hate to see him like this, especially when he’s still acting like he’s fine, good even, during the day. 

“Do you wanna talk?” You ask, though you’re sure you can guess the answer. Geonwoo just shakes his head quickly, rocking forward like he can’t stand to not be moving. 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

The head shake comes faster this time, one of his hands reaching for yours where they rest on your thighs. You give it to him, ignoring the sweatiness of his palm and focusing on how cold it is. He must have been out of bed for hours now, maybe since everyone turned in, and with how chilly it is in the apartment, he must be freezing. 

After contemplating the situation, you decide warming Geonwoo up is your first priority. He doesn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, so you rise to your feet and sit next to him on the bed. He leans into you, his shoulder brushing yours and a shiver traveling through his body when he feels how warm you are. 

“Why don’t we lay down? Just for a little while,” you offer, begging him in your mind to say yes. 

You can see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about it. It seems to be a difficult decision, and you wonder what all there is for him to consider but let the seconds pass in silence, knowing he’s likely to close up more if you ask. Geonwoo has never been particularly touchy with you, always sticking to pats on the shoulder and smiles instead of hugs, and you’re not sure why. Him reaching for your hand was out of character, and him leaning into you is even odder, but you can’t say you mind, especially if it gets him under the covers and out of this cool air. 

“Okay,” he agrees quietly, his voice shaky and his hands even more so as he stands and lifts the duvet for you. 

Confused, you climb in and accept the blanket he carefully lowers onto your body. You watch him walk around to the other side, the one closer to the door, and keep your limbs to yourself as he gets into bed next to you. 

It’s weird, you admit, to be close to him like this. To be in the same bed as him, ensconced in the same blankets, resting on the same mattress. You think you like it though, like how he smells and how he feels, even with how cold he is. He’s like a statue beside you, as stiff as he was when you first met, but just like then, you’ll let him relax on his own time. 

He’s not touching you but you can still feel his muscles untense one by one, his hand finding yours under the duvet and holding tight. You glance over to find him staring at the ceiling, his tears dried up and his face smoothed out. 

Smiling softly to yourself, you let your eyes close, the feeling of Geonwoo’s hand wrapped around yours anchoring you to the bed and to the present. 

Your sleep is dreamless, and when you wake, your hand is still in his. 

. 

The next night, the same thing happens. 

You shoot upright, your body in fight or flight mode, your eyes wildly taking in the room around you to remind yourself that you’re at home with Geonwoo and Soyeon, not at the cafe surrounded by men with pipes. 

You don’t bother sitting in the dark, just get up and stumble to Geonwoo’s room, the wood cold under your feet and the chilly air sparking goosebumps. You wait outside the door, holding your breath so you can listen for sounds, hoping at the same time that he’s asleep and awake. 

Awake, Geonwoo can help you. Asleep, he’s helping himself. 

You catch that telltale breath pattern and knock, your heart in your throat as you wait. He doesn’t keep you long, a hushed, “Come in,” just barely reaching you through the door. 

He’s still in bed, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes and the blankets tangled up in his legs like he’s been running in his sleep. He shifts up to sit as you enter the room, folding his hands in his lap and crossing his legs to make himself smaller. You’ve noticed he does that around you, shrinks himself as if you could ever even think to be scared of him. Geonwoo hurts none but those who deserve it, and even then you know he still feels guilty sometimes for doing what he must. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asks softly, his gaze open and nowhere near as glassy as last night. 

You shake your head, playing with the hem of your shirt as you try to muster up the courage to ask for what you want. You’re sure he’ll say yes, but it’s difficult to make yourself vulnerable enough to speak the words. 

“Stay with me?” 

You nearly stumble over your feet in your haste to get into the bed, his hands smoothing the blankets out and lifting them for you to slide under. It’s silent for a few ticks, just the hum of the city and your breathing breaking up the quiet night, until you roll to your side to face him. 

He copies you, tucking his hands under his head and bending his knees, the position so sweet for someone so large. You both stare for a while, communicating wordlessly the pain and fear of that night. His eyelids start to flutter, his breaths growing deeper and his body relaxing, and it’s not long before you relax too. 

You wish you could hold his hand, but they’re folded beneath his head and you don’t want to disturb him, not when he’s so obviously on the verge of slumber. Being close to him is enough, his presence soothing you like nothing else. 

You’re asleep before you know it.

.

You blink awake to sunlight on your face and Geonwoo’s hand in yours. He’s still curled up and facing you, his seemingly only movement in the night being to take your hand. 

You lay there and just stare, for a while. Taking in the freckle on his nose and the lines in his plush lips, just barely feeling his breaths from the foot or so you are from him. You feel so calm, so peaceful next to him in the cool light of day. 

His eyes move beneath his eyelids, his hand flexing in yours, and you wonder what he’s dreaming about. You hope it’s something good, something safe and happy, but you’ll be here for him if it’s the opposite. 

You’ll be here for him from now on, now that you know he’s been hiding his pain from both you and his mom like this. You’re sure he didn’t want to worry or burden you, or maybe he thinks admitting that he needs help is a sign of weakness, but whatever it is, you’re not going to let him keep it from you anymore. 

Geonwoo’s hand squeezes yours, making your gaze and your focus snap back to him. He’s awake, and he’s staring at you. 

“Did you sleep well?” He rumbles, his voice scratchy and deep with sleep. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “For the first time in a while. You?”

He shyly grins back and hums, looking down at your entangled hands and brushing his thumb over yours. His grin fades, a somber look replacing the soft warmth. 

“Please don’t tell my mom what you saw,” he whispers, “I don’t want to worry her even more.”

“I won’t, of course, I won’t. But will you do something for me?” 

Taking in a deep breath, he nods, his hand tensing in yours and his eyes attentive. 

“Don’t suffer by yourself anymore. I’m here. I didn’t experience what you did but I watched it happen, and if you won’t talk to your mom, at least talk to me, please,” you implore him, your mind going back to the tears on his cheeks and the hollowness in his gaze.

You don’t recognize the look in his eyes or the slow, sweet half smile that rises to his lips, but you know you like them both. 

[romanroycoo]

After The Fall - Vincent Renzi x Reader

Swann Arlaud in Anatomy of a Fall, similar plotline, son doesn't exist neither does Snoop (sadly).

Summary: After the trial of the death of your husband, you struggle to come to terms with this new life and the trauma of what has happened before. Vincent Renzi, however, becomes your comfort, staying beside you the whole time. A friends to lovers fanfiction

CW: Angst, fluff, obvious flirting, reader is depressed, grief, hurt and comfort, mentions of death, ex-husband was abusive - no mentions of it in this chapter.

Chapter one - Bathroom floor.

It had only been a few days since the trial had ended and you were freed from the question of murder. However, mentally, things had not seemed to get any brighter, your mind was in pieces, a sadness plagued your body day in and day out. And you had no one to call. 

Except Vincent.

You know you could depend on him for anything, hell, he saved your life technically. You needed him, not only as a lawyer, but as a friend. So when you were sitting on the floor of your bathroom, in this awfully empty house, crying desperately from the weight of the last few weeks of your life, you decided to call him.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Curiosity was clear in his voice. You realise you missed this voice.

“Vincent..Hi, uhm i'm sorry to call you but uh..” Tears were still heavy on your cheeks and you struggled to get the words out. Asking for help wasn't your forte.

“No, no its fine dont worry. Is there something wrong? You sound-”

“Upset? Yeah. I can't seem to stop. I should be happy now the trial is over.” You laugh. “But, i just cant seem to be that.”

“You've been through so much, Y/n.” His voice is soft and warming.

There was a silence on the line through a few seconds, sad but not uncomfortable. You didnt know what to say, it was always like that around him. You were weirdly nervous, probably just the long time of not seeing each other, right?

“Could you co-”

“Yeah, i'll be there soon.” He says before you can even finish the question.

*****************************

It was late afternoon when he got there, letting himself in, it was a familiar arrangement by now.

You watched as the door glides open and he peers down at you, sat with your knees to your chest, leaning against the bath wall. 

“Hey.” You made a sad smile at him before he sat next to you automatically.

His head turned and his saddened gaze met yours. “Hey.”

Your eyes were already welling with tears again before you placed your head onto his shoulder, leaning into him. He shifted to make it more comfortable before wrapping his arm around you and placing his hand on your knee. You needed this hug so much, it had been so long since you felt the warmth of someone else near you like this. 

It felt like you could truly cry forever, and you hoped that he would stay, through it all, holding you like this and you didnt know why.

“Ive lost everything. Everyone. I dont know what to do or where to start again. Im such a mess.” You muffle into his side. “Ive never felt like this before.”

He stares for a while, understanding and listening to your pain. He hated seeing you like this and he wish he could take it away in an instant.

“You havent lost me, okay? And you just need some time. Ease back into things. Dont force yourself Y/n.”

You nod before sitting back up and looking at him, smiling assuringly and sorrowfully. Then as if nothing, you felt the pad of his thumb grace against your cheek, softly wiping away the tears staining your face. This house didn't feel so empty anymore.

[goblingardens]

The way i would go absolutely FERAL if they made a comic of Essek and Caleb in Aeor!!!!!!!!1!!1!!1

[howtodolife]

LATE NIGHT SUBTLETIES AND A MILLION MORE CONTROVERSIES

Summary: Reader wakes up at night and doesn't find jungkook beside her but instead in the kitchen, cooking.

Fem!reader × Jungkook

Warnings/Tags: pure fluff, hurt/comfort, insecurity, mentions of stretchmarks, manhandling (A bit?), oc is nervous and restless, she's so in love it makes her jittery and overwhelmed 😭, jk being an absolute sweetheart, REASSURANCE, bit suggestive in the middle but nothing happens, they're so in love it hurts 😭😭💗 (pls tell me if you find any more warnings, I'll add them!)

Writer's note: why is it so hard to write kiss scenes‼️?? it's my second fic, It originally started as a pure fluff imagine but I couldn't help it and made it a bit sad, so now it fits into the hurt/comfort trope more 😭😭 I'm not very happy with how it turned out because it feels kinda personal and I pondered not posting it but here I am. I hope you guys like it! Also it gets better in the end👍😭

"It must be midnight," you thought to yourself as your eyes drifted open, adjusting to the darkness around you. You reached out to the other side of the bed, hoping to find security and warmth, hoping to find Jungkook—the one you sought for love and a sense of belonging. Surprisingly, all you could find was an empty mattress and bedsheets, as well as pillows cold from being unused. Quickly getting up, panic flooded in for a short moment. "Jungkook," you called out, receiving no answer. You walked to the living room, eyes searching for him, and that was when Jungkook caught your sight. He was in the kitchen, cooking god-knows-what with his back turned toward you. The room had a purplish hue due to the dimmed lights, and the atmosphere felt cold with the AC blasting at full temperature. Jungkook turned toward you, hearing your footsteps, giving you a slight smile that had a hint of slyness. You walked closer to him. You felt Jungkook's hand snake around your waist, and then strong tattooed arms lifting you up onto the cold marble countertop. You squirmed due to the sudden movement, gripping onto his shoulders for stability. "Oh my god," you exclaimed, earning Jungkook a chuckle. You rolled your eyes at him. "Hey, c'mon, it's fun!"

"Sure", you retorted. "Besides, why are you making ramen at 2:46 a.m", you mentioned, hitting his head lightly.

"I'm insomniac", stated Jungkook matter of factly. "Also I was bored since it's late and had nothing better to do, so naturally i decided to cook"

I tilted my head at him and hummed in response. He looked beyond beautiful right now. Sharing these little moments together felt so domestic yet special; I'd trade anything for them. Jungkook gave me a quick glance before I felt one of his hands on my thigh, pulling me closer to him so that he could place kisses all over my face and neck. I grinned at that, placing my hands in his hair.

"You're never going to give me a warning, are you?", you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

He chuckled "And miss out on these reactions? Nah, I'm good".

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, taking his presence in as much as you could. You would never get enough of it, of him. You wanted to stare into his brown bambi eyes forever, and even that wouldn't be enough time. You felt his hand travelling up and down your legs, Jungkook could feel the dents made by the stretchmarks on your legs here and there. You tensed a bit as you felt the warmth of his hand lingering there a bit more longer than the other areas, afraid he might judge you or find them weird but it was evident in his eyes that he couldn't care less. Jungkook's face reflected nothing but the feelings of love, respect and infatuation he felt for you. You felt the cold metal of his rings on your thighs as the grip of his hand strengthened, his head shifting closer to you. You breathed in his scent, shifting slightly closer to him. You gulped nervously, trying to calm your nerves down, heart beating loud in your chest at Jungkook being so close to you, the amount of intimacy you were sharing. You'd experienced it a countless number of times, but it still made you feel all restless and timid. "You can touch me, y'know", he chuckled, and then you lost it. Completely.

"God, I KNOW, its just that the feelings I have for you is so overwhelming and intense plus I don't know what the fuck to do with them. Sometimes I wanna jump off a building because of these and I'm always scared if I say or do something wrong or weird. It just holds me back from doing so much. I have so much love for you and it's unreal and crazy but you'll never get to know it because guess what, I'm too fucking embarrassed to do anything", you rambled and put your hand in your head, feeling upset, guilty and a bit disappointed.

You felt him grab your wrists and pull your hands from your face, holding them. He seemed to be taking in the whole of what you said and understand it in depth instead if coming up with a sudden reply. He scooted his head closer to you, as if trying to emphasize what he was about to say "nothing you do comes off as weird or out of place to me, understand? I love you, I love you, I love YOU, I can't stress this enough. You can never make me tired or upset with you, I love all of your little habits and mannerisms and i'll memorise all of them to take care of you and make you feel safe and wanted. Also, holy shit, that's a lot to carry all at once, Y/N. I don't want you to feel so pressurised and stressed with me, love. I'll do my best to not let these feeling get to you. Besides, I can recognize how much you love me by all your little gestures and the things you say" You felt him grab your chin and turn your attention towards him. "I love you, okay? Don't doubt that". You felt his lips brush against yours, making your heart jump, it was the gentlest of kisses, without the desire for something another. It intensified slowly, his hands grabbing your waist, pulling you even closer, making you his body press against yours. Although it was without the anticipation of anything other than this moment you were sharing, not with his hands under your shirt or tangled up in your bra straps. It was one filled with love and innocence, one that was unwavering. You suddenly felt his lips part from yours, a move unlikely for him to do. But then it dawned on you - the food. He reached for the spatula in a sudden movement, trying to do something to make the food edible, at least, though it didnt look like anything could be done.

"Fuck, no, no no. Not the goddamn ramen. I really don't want to eat it burnt, ah" Jungkook conceded.

He held his head in his hands, sighing in a defeated manner. You felt bad for him, though you couldn't help but burst out laughing. He narrowed his eyes at you.

"What, you asshole. There's nothing funny about this".

You raised you hands as if to signify that you were not at fault. "Hey, it's your fault. You should've been more careful and not shifted your attention elsewhere."

"Okay well, nobody told you to wake up at 3 AM to come here and distract me, it's all your fault" Jungkook accused.

You let out a sigh, jumping down from the counter "Just order in food and we'll clean up the mess together"

"Absolutely not, your "cleaning up" never ends well. I'm just left out here all by my own" he teased, fake crying.

You gasped in a dramatic way, half-joking, half-bickering."That's so mean, you absolute shithead. I would clean it up just to spite you and prove you wrong, but y'know what? I'm too tired. Good 4 me though, I'm saved from work" You shrugged.

"Just admit you can't do it" he retorted, putting the dishes in the sink, smiling the whole time.

"Not in my life, never."

[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New (TEASER)

Idol!Bts x Choreographer!Reader

Hurt/Comfort, ANGST, Eventual Fluff, Jealousy, and Insecurities

Release Date: TBA

A/N: Hi guys! This one has been in the works for a WHILE, I keep getting stuck in certain parts, but I'll be done soon! For now, here is the little preview I posted about like a week ago. I hope you enjoy! Kissies and huggies!

.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. The boys were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter: you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you to ask her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately." 

She gasps in a dramatic manner - you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you? 

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you. 

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin. 

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze; he knew you were uncomfortable. 

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet. 

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours. 

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

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

[leavemeslowly]

Autobiography of Red

Pairing: Eddie Horniman x Susie Glass

Wordcount: 1,597

Warnings: Explicit, +18, Smut, Masturbation, Emotionally Repressed, Sad Ending, Crying, Possessiveness, Dirty Talk, Did I mention it is sad?

Summary: "I will never know how you see red and you will never know how I see it."* The London Eye stood still at this ungodly hour. Susie was alone in her apartment but hoped she wasn't.

Susie was not an early bird, but she was forced to become one. She would rather nap for a bit longer. Today, she briefly closed her eyes to say goodbye to her nighttime sleep. The last moment of peace was not given because her mind unhelpfully supplied the daily schedule. It included lengthy dealings on the farm at Halstead Manor. They also included a particular ex-military, aristocratic soldier. The thirteenth Duke of Halstead.

She buried herself deeper under the sheets and remembered how they danced in the living room of the manor. The lingering touches, subtle glances and drinking more and more just to loosen up and not bother with the consequences of all the exchanged gestures.

The next day, Eddie asked her what she was still doing there as if he had not led her to a bedroom on the first floor and had not helped her out of her shoes. She remembered the kiss left on her forehead. Remembered how his fingers slipped down her bare arm sticking out from under the sheets.

Susie was on the edge of asking him to stay, rest his head on the other pillow, and embrace her body, before she completely forget what it means to be close to another person. But, she shut her mouth tightly. Her eyes closed and she heard doors closed behind Eddie.

It was time for daydreams to end. Susie stared for a moment at the London Eye, which stood still at this ungodly hour.

Later, she bit her lip, walking in front of her vast closet, and trying to decide what to wear. She thought about a nice three-piece suit in deep navy. On some days, she just needed an extra boost of confidence to cover up her uncertainty and doubts.

The clothes had to speak for her, wordlessly explaining that Susie was qualified to do what she did and that she was an authority in her own right without her dad having the last word. She is not a blind follower of his rules, but she is their maker, too. Susie is writing them in wet ink, and whoever disobeys her ends up with her pen sticking out of his eye.

She smirked, picturing her future enemies punished through that unconventional method. There is always space to refine one's game.

Nevertheless, she moved her sight to the other part of her closet, where various shirts were hung. She has not worn silk for a while now. Her collection was too diverse to let it lie unused.

She took a moment longer to consider her options and switched to choosing a lingerie set. Of course, today, there was no need to fuss with anything too frivolous. One of the white drawers hid her plain but comfortable bras, which she would wear on a daily basis.

A plain Skims set would do the work, but once she had it on, she felt too casual, so mediocre that her skin started to itch as if it wanted to be peeled off. The set blended with her pale skin tone and made her smoother, almost perfect. Only freckles splattered on her legs and arms betrayed an extra layer of material on her body.

Her resourcefulness, more often than not, was a hindrance to fulfilling her own needs.

Susie turned back to the drawers and opened another one. The contests of it, their textures, colours, and variety of patterns differed diametrically. She gently slid her fingers through them and stopped on the dark burgundy set.

Her mind drifted to the day they stole a green Lamborghini, and it almost backfired spectacularly. She also remembered what she wore on that day, a red suit with a belt tightly wrapped around her waist. A few buttons of the shirt were left open to counterbalance the heavy material. Her black hair was falling in curls down her arms. That was one of her most successful outfits to date, but she would never suspect another impact it had.

Eddie had never stared at her this intensely, this darkly. She felt his eyes on her, but he was not persistent in confirming their decision or agreeing on something. On that day, he was sliding his gaze down her arms, cleavage, and thighs. How could he think she did not feel it?

A thrill of excitement ran down her spine whenever she caught him looking everywhere but not directly into her eyes. She was not intimidated, but her light complexion blushed prominently under her makeup. He might be obvious, but she did not have to be.

She took the burgundy set out of the drawer. She slipped out of boring Skims and slowly, savouring this moment, put on thin, heavily laced panties. Then she fastened her balcony bra behind the back and finally clipped the garter belt in its place. Her light skin was picking through meshed insertions. Standing in front of the mirror, Susie slowly, almost teasingly, dragged her hands down to be sure that everything was smoothed out and in place.

She imagined what Eddie's face would look like now. She would mock him: 'How do you like me now? Am I good enough?'

He would not be embarrassed or lost but rather intrigued, silently watching her while leaning back against the doorframe. Susie would present for him, put her hands behind her neck and raise her hair to uncover more of a scandalously white skin. She was anxious to imagine his voice, so he would still be gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

'Come closer, Eddie. Don't be a stranger.'

He would move only with her permission. Before stopping right behind her, he would shed his black jacket and drop it off on the sofa in the middle of the closet. Eddie would gently grab her arms and put them down. His fingers would dig into her arms as if he was ensuring she was real, all his to touch and hold.

'Susan, darling' His deep and rough voice whispered straight to her ear would make her legs tremble, so he had to ground her and embrace her unsteady body. `Do you want me to watch you?'

Susie would shut her eyes, suddenly embarrassed by his hands roaming down her tight stomach.

'Yes, Eddie, if you like it.’ She whispered shyly.

His response was a pained groan and his hands squeezing her ass under the lace. Susie would moan loudly responding to his possessive marking of her body.

`I fucking love it, baby. Show me that you love it, too. I know you want to.' She nodded and rested the back of her head on his chest while her manicured nails skimmed down her stomach and under the lace of her panties. `Tell me how it feels, love. I need to know if you feel good.'

Susie would be pulsing and hot, sweat forming on her hairline. She would open her lips and breathe out shakily, letting out the faintest cries of pleasure. His arms would make her hotter and deliciously restrain her movements. Still, his posture would support her like a wall she could rest against when her body was slipping out of her control.

`Open your eyes, Susie.'

On his request, they snapped wide open. He was there, right behind Susie, with one hand delicately cupping her breast. It felt so right that Susie wanted to cry. Her cheeks were bright red, and her lips were swollen from biting into them. Eddie's dark eyes bore into her while she was slowly touching herself.

`Let me help you, please, allow me.'

He did not wait for her permission this time. His large hand slid under hers and she whined as if it was what she craved all along. Susie's nails would dig into his forearm, feeling his increasing movements, his hardness digging into her back and fingers of his other hand sliding into her mouth. She licked around them, promising him the things she intended to do. She felt that for her it was just a matter of a few more flicks of his fingers.

`Let go for me, Susie.' He was mumbling into her neck now, lips lightly brushing against it. Her reflection in the mirror was dishevelled, her hips bucking into his touch. `Next time, we will do it against this mirror. With London behind our backs. With your tits pressed to the mirror and your lipstick spread across it.'

Susie nodded, hearing these words. They were vulgar and tempting, and she knew they could not be real. Those were her darkest, deepest fantasies. Eddie's black eyes were staring at her now, and she was on the edge of falling.

`Then, I will do what you want me to. In your bed, I will take care of you, Susie. We will fuck nice and slow. You will fall in love with me and maybe not feel so lonely and pathetic.'

Susie rapidly turned her back to the mirror and fell on the floor. She remained there for several minutes, shaking and breathing hard. Tears were burning her eyes, but Susie could not let them fall. She will not let her stupid dreams and fantasies ruin her picture-perfect image.

Finally, when she calmed down, she raised her head. Just as before, the London Eye was standing still.

Susie stood up and changed into Skims. Then, she put on the first clothes she found in her wardrobe.

On her way out, Susie threw the burgundy set into the bin.

*Quote by Anne Carson. The title is also taken from one of her books.

Notification list:

@omgpurpleann @cult-of-escapism @simp-ly-writes @bass41ife @theamazinggracie

@nonbinary-blog @leksii @dont888 @starflame

@booklover1814 @exxodusmo @afangirlfandom @your-mums-nuts @coffee-and-casefiles

@kassa-stardust @romanogers @crescendoofstars @sglassxblog

@wintress1989 @mesillusionssousecstasy @gabbyabby89 @beautifultragedygiver @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

[futurecorps3]

Hi!! Wanted to drop by and say that I love your fics and how you write! I saw that you're taking requests for nikolai and I'm so in the mood for some angst with him after watching season two. So I have this idea where the reader is taken by the darkling as leverage against nikolai (maybe she was one of his grishas before or not) and she tries to escape or something, but nikolai saves her.

Thank you in advance and hope you stay hidrated and happy! 💗

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: Nikolai is sure he's never been this empty. Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader Warnings: Kidnapping, blood mentions, Nikolai being sad and a bitch to everyone but it's okay bc he's going through something, kinda show!Nikolai for a tiny little second Word Count: 3.2K Requested: Yes

A/N: I added a bit of angsty spice because I'm a SLUT for that good Nikolai hurt/comfort. Sorry for the delay my love and tysm for requesting!!!<3 Hope u like it.

˚ · • . ° .

He wasn't sure how it all came to be. Moments like these made Nikolai realize he was a boy born with tragedy knitted on his skin and calamity running through his blood. His light. His queen. His love. His everything. Kirigan took everything from him.

When in war, everyone knew disastrous things could happen with every coming sunrise. In this specific war, you could wake up with the news that the fold had swallowed the nearest city to yours, or be in the city that was swallowed. Maybe grishas working with the Darkling burnt your house to the ground overnight. Maybe you didn't wake up at all.

The king was aware of the madness going on outside the spinning wheel's walls and all over the country. Kirigan and his army had the upper hand and grew bolder with time, but that wouldn't last, Nikolai was sure of it.

Until they took Y/N.

Not a single guard or grisha seemed to be aware of the enemy taking the one person most precious to the king. She vanished, and he blamed himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn and listened to her, he would've been there.

"There is no clue on where she might be" Zoya asserted, exasperated and scared for her best friend. Saints knew where she was. Tired of seeing Nikolai sitting with a heavy head and puffy eyes trying to work out a way to find his lover. "Time is a crucial matter on these things. But being out there would be a risk. For everyone here." Said Genya, who was standing next to David.

"I can't stand sitting here doing absolutely nothing when she's out there, Genya. Let me go out, it's been three days since t-they..." he couldn't say it. In the past hours, he realized acknowledging the fact Y/N was gone only made his mind run wild over the events that transpired the last time they were together.

Y/N paced back and forth in the grand hall of the royal palace, her heart racing with anger. Nikolai stood in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression cold and distant. They had been going back on forth for about an hour now, exhausted, but neither of them would give in.

"You're not even listening to me, Nikolai! This is important," Y/N said, her voice rising in frustration. "I am listening, Y/N. I just don't agree with you," Nikolai replied, his tone clipped and dismissive. He came up with a plan to ambush Kirigan, one Y/N considered being ruthless; they knew for a fact he was expanding the fold over some little farmer's village and he wanted to let him just so they could enter to fold and Alina could work her powers out.

The young king was sure that if they were quick enough, the habitants wouldn't immediately turn into Volcra. Still, it was risky and very thoughtless. If it didn't work, hundreds of people would die, which was the last thing the nation needed. Y/N shook her head, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She couldn't believe Nikolai was being so stubborn at a matter like this.

"I can't do this, Nikolai. What if it doesn't work? W-will you be able to live with that in your conscience?" Y/N said, her voice trembling with emotion. Nikolai didn't say a thing, his expression still gone. Y/N took a step back, disappointed.

He knew it was not an easy decision, and had been pondering it for a long time before voicing it to his love. Nikolai, too, battled himself in the classic dilemma he found himself in; was he willing to sacrifice hundreds of people to end a war that had started far before he was even born?

"Y/N, do you think I don't care? It's hard, but it has to be done. Everyone agrees. We'll do our best to get them out of there, but if it doesn't work, they won't die in vain. This could be our one chance to save Ravka," He said, his voice somehow hurt but firm. And with that, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed out of the grand hall, her footsteps echoing off the marble floors.

As she walked through the palace corridors, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of anger and disappointment that lingered within her. She had always known that she and Nikolai had different opinions on certain matters, but she had never thought it would come to this.

The days preceding the supposed attack were filled with quiet meals, nights sleeping with backs facing each other, and no kisses. Alina and the other grishas knew what was off between the couple, but figured that if someone made even the slightest comment, Nikolai would decide against what needed to be done.

Last thing she said to him was an apathetic "Take care, don't be reckless". Y/N was worried for him but still angry and a bit shocked at them actually risking the lives of breathing, sentient people because of this stupid war. She knew it was a good plan, but either way, lives were to be lost. Nikolai nodded and turned around, mounted his horse and rode down along the other grisha to the border where Kirigan was.

Or was supposed to be.

They waited for hours, even remained hidden for quite some time, and there was no sign of Kirigan. Zoya insisted, against Alina's wishes, to go back to the castle, and they did. They did and Y/N was gone. Maybe the Darkling was more clever than they thought; he figured out the way to weaken the king by taking everything he held dear.

He heard from a friend over in Ketterdam not to love anything, ever. That was his trick and the one thing that kept him alive in many situations while he was working his way up in gangs and gained street credit. He understood that when some minor range inferni approached him with a pale face and trembling hands, saying they had taken the queen and had absolutely no idea when or where.

The king had been too daft, too stubborn to even see through the trap they had set up. It all clicked in that moment, really. The intel on the attack came from an unreliable source, and the former general relied on Ravka's desperation on ending this war. Aleksander knew they'd take anything they could get. He outsmarted the most cunning grishas and royal individuals, hurting the king greatly.

Y/N's absence felt like a never-ending void, and he was plagued with visions of what could be happening to her. No matter how hard he tried to strategize, Nikolai felt helpless, as he didn't know where Y/N was or what the Darkling was doing to her. He ached to embrace her once more, to whisper comforting words in her ear and tell her how much he adored her.

His Y/N was a bold one, and he figured she was putting up quite a fight. He prayed to his saints for her to hold on, to wait and endure until he found where she was. Everyone was working full time, maps scattered in tables with discarded locations, search parties in the land... Nikolai knew this was the time of his ability to find quick solutions to shine. He was going to find her and kill that bastard.

˚ · • . ° .

"Will you stop that already?" Aleksander said exasperated, dodging yet another one of Y/N's blazes being thrown his way. She didn't reply. Hair messy with her gown in shreds inside a cage, all dirty with how much she had wrestled with Kirigan's crew on the way there. Truth is, she had no idea where she was. "He, for once, is right, child. Stop it or he'll put these things on you."

Baghra, in the cage next to her, showed her the iron shackles he had placed. "You'll get sick if you can't use your powers". Y/N sighed, annoyed at everything. She was not scared, not of some coward who caged his own mother out of fear. They were close friends before all of this. With her childhood best friend and boyfriend enlisted in the army, Y/N was left alone. Being one of the most talented Grisha of her age, it was only natural for Kirigan to notice her standing out.

She, of course, knew nothing about his plans and was grateful she had someone to laugh with. "Darling-" "Do not call me that" she spat "Y/N, you know this could've been easier if you allowed it. Your problem is you're too stubborn, too prideful, and way too enthralled by your prince to see clearly." "He's your king, Kirigan. And you're a murderer." Of course, he didn't see himself as such. Everyone with half a brain could see he really thought he was doing the right thing, even when that meant slaughtering countless amounts of people.

The man inhaled sharply and turned around, a certain dramatic flare in his kefta as he did so. Y/N knew he wouldn't dare to hurt her, he needed her alive. But being locked away from everything known in enemy lands was not exactly the ideal situation for her at the moment; even if she scaped she would have nowhere to go. The last conversation she had with Nikolai had been everything but pleasant, and truth be told, she was worried he was worried.

She felt a bit remorseful, her words shot to kill when mad and her soon to be husband's indifference against the fierce words made her even madder, so seeing the situation at hand coolly was not an option when they argued. Also, she knew him well and Nikolai could be too hard on himself most of the time; the speech he was giving himself in that very moment was clear for Y/N.

He most likely was overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, and his head was filled with mean words, whispering that he had been the cause of all this, and that if he had just paid attention, she'd still be there. Of course, there was no way she could ever blame him for the kidnapping/becoming a forceful guest of some lovely little house on the hill, but he could. The demons could be very mean fuckers to the puppy king prince.

That night, Y/N fell asleep on the piles of blankets thinking of those blue eyes. Those blue eyes in the time they spent at sea together. Sunlight danced upon their iridescent sea, unveiling a symphony of hues with delicate glee. Celestial eyes, a glimpse of heaven's embrace, where mysteries and magic interlace. Where she found a place to be.

She hoped she could see them again soon.

˚ · • . ° .

Five days later, Nikolai made search parties go through the country to see if they could find something, anything, all a desperate measure he never thought would pay off. He was wrong.

"We found Kirigan" were the only words Zoya said, already in her kefta ready to head out. Those simple three words had the king sobering up, getting up from his seat as he felt the numbness of his body leave eagerly. Less than fifteen minutes after, he was outside the castle commanding very small teams of grisha with different tasks. There was no need to get there with the manpower they had a few days back in the fold's border. There was one singular purpose that day; getting Y/N out of there.

Nikolai's mind raced, strategizing and planning, his thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and contingencies. The rhythmic sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the stakes at hand. Yet, amid the chaos of his emotions, a flicker of hope burned within him. It was the unwavering belief that he and Y/N shared a love strong enough to defy any darkness, a love that would guide him through the treacherous task ahead.

Alina stood at the edge of the hill, her gaze fixed on the horizon where Nikolai and his small army disappeared into the distance. A knot of admiration swelled in her chest as she watched his retreating figure, the determination evident in every stride. Beside her, Mal followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. "That man's love for Y/N is unparalleled," he remarked, his voice filled with awe. "I've never seen someone fight so fiercely for another person."

Alina nodded, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "It's true. Nikolai's devotion knows no bounds. He'd move mountains, cross oceans, and face the darkest of enemies for Y/N's sake." Mal's gaze softened as he glanced at Alina, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Just like we would for each other." She met his gaze, a tender warmth filling her eyes. "Yes, just like us."

The wind rustled through the grass, carrying with it a sense of anticipation and hope. Alina's gaze lingered on the distant figure of Nikolai, his silhouette a testament to his unwavering resolve. "Do you remember when we first met Nikolai?" Alina asked, her voice carrying a hint of fondness. Mal chuckled softly, a reminiscent glimmer in his eyes. "How could I forget? He was all charm and wit, always scheming, but with a heart that burned fiercely for his people. And for Y/N."

"He's always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve," Alina mused. "But it's during times like these, when the stakes are high, that you truly see the depth of his love." Mal's gaze shifted back to the horizon, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "He's willing to risk everything, including his own life, for Y/N. It's a rare and beautiful thing."

Alina's voice grew quiet as she added, "We're fortunate to have witnessed such love. It's a reminder of what we fight for." Silence enveloped them as they stood together, their hearts swelling with appreciation for the love that bound them all. In the distance, the sun began its descent, casting a golden, almost hopeful hue upon the land.

˚ · • . ° .

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the land, Nikolai and his small, stealthy army approached the Darkling's stronghold. Their destination was a grand, two-story manor nestled within the heart of enemy territory. The imposing structure loomed before them, its dark façade a testament to the malevolence that lay within.

Nikolai's heart pounded in his chest as they neared the manor, his thoughts consumed by the image of Y/N trapped within its walls. The manor stood as a symbol of their separation, a barrier between them that he was determined to breach. The double doors of the building loomed large, promising the secrets and dangers that lay beyond. Nikolai turned to his loyal companions, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

"We enter quietly," Nikolai whispered, his words carried on a whispering breeze. "Our goal is to locate Y/N and bring her out unseen. Remain vigilant and stay close." The members of his small army nodded, their eyes gleaming with a shared resolve. They understood the magnitude of their mission and the risks involved.

With a nod from Nikolai, they entered the manor, their footsteps silent against the marble floors of the grand foyer. The opulence of the surroundings contrasted starkly with the tension that filled the air. Paintings adorned the walls, and ornate chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, casting a dim glow that danced with the shadows.

Distant footsteps could be heard, a day over for all the grishas on Kirigan's side. No one on sight downstairs, but, ever the paranoid, Nikolai made the five soldiers who accompanied him inside stay behind. It was easier, safer, if he wen't by himself upstairs.

He ascended a grand staircase, each step careful and deliberate, his senses heightened. The second floor held a maze of hallways and rooms, potential hiding places where Y/N might be held captive. His path was shrouded in uncertainty, but Nikolai's determination remained unwavering.

As he crept along the hallway, doors lined each side, concealing the secrets within, avoiding any wandering person in the hallways. The air was thick with anticipation, the silence broken only by the soft creaking of the wooden floorboards beneath their feet.

Nikolai pressed his ear against a closed door, straining to catch any sounds that might indicate Y/N's presence. A faint, muffled whimper reached his ears, and his heart clenched. It was the sound he had been longing to hear, the confirmation that Y/N was indeed within the manor. With practiced precision, Nikolai picked the lock, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit room. Y/N was there, her weary form huddled in the corner of a cage, her eyes widening with hope at the sight of Nikolai. The room itself was sparse, lacking the opulence that adorned the rest of the manor. It was a stark contrast, a symbol of the darkness that had enveloped Y/N's captivity next to a sick looking Baghra.

"Oh darling" she whispered, melting the lock that had kept her there for days. The door fell open, and as Nikolai's arms wrapped around Y/N, a surge of emotions washed over both of them. The weight of their separation, the fear and uncertainty that had gripped their hearts, all dissipated in that single embrace. Time seemed to stand still as they held each other, finding solace and strength in each other's presence.

Y/N's body melted into Nikolai's, her fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket, as if she couldn't bear to let go. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar musky scent, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek. A rush of relief flooded through her, knowing that she was finally safe in his arms.

Nikolai's hold tightened around Y/N, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. "I thought I lost you," he confessed, his words laced with a mix of vulnerability and profound love. "But I will always find my way back to you, no matter the cost." Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she looked up at Nikolai, her gaze filled with gratitude and devotion. "I never doubted you," she replied, her voice filled with unwavering trust.

"We're getting you out of here," Nikolai whispered, his voice filled with determination and love. Together, they left the room, their steps light as they navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the manor. Each turn brought them closer to the freedom that awaited beyond its walls. Nikolai's small army, now positioned strategically throughout the manor, provided cover and ensured their path remained clear.

As they emerged from the grand entrance of the place, relief washed over them. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a gentle glow over their escape. Nikolai held Y/N close, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. The grand, two-story manor now stood as a symbol of their victory, its walls unable to contain the power of their love and determination.

In that moment, as they left the manor behind, they knew that they had conquered not just the physical barriers but also the darkness that had threatened to tear them apart. Hand in hand, they embarked on a journey towards a future where their love would be the guiding light, ready to conquer this war and build a new world belonging to the both of them.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) Hey, that scape seemed a bit too easy... right? 👀

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[danihow]

Maternity aisle

Lee Know x Fem!Reader Stray Kids

Word count:  0.85k

Summary: The one where Lee Know ends up visiting you in the maternity aisle after you had the miscarriaged of the baby none of you knew you were having.

Warning:MISCARRIAGE, unknown pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, mentions of bleeding, anxious thoughts, breakdown.

A/N:  I can't believe this has been on drafts for 9 months and it was basically finished?? I just hadn'y posted it???

When Minho received the call from their manager that you got admitted to the ER, he left any promotions they were having without a care and basically flew to the hospital.

He arrived panting to the front desk, immediately asking for you and saying you were now in rest, now fleeting to where you were settled at.

Maternity.

When he entered through that doors his eyes were greeted by multiple women of multiple ages, most if not all of them with some companion, multiple holding babies in their arms. His eyes scanned the whole room, ears unable to pick on whatever the nurse was asking him, you were his only priority or worry.

"Y/N." He breathed, spotting you at the end of the room in your own medical bed and in hospital clothes, head low, not having realized he was there.

"Sir, you need help?" The nurse asked to what Minho denied, walking over to you.

"Y/N..." He said, stopping his tracks at the end of the bed, the ring of his voice making you look up, the deep sadness and worry in your eyes sent his heart sinking to his belly, stomach feeling suddenly empty. "What... what happened?"

You couldn't mutter anything, you felt the worry, the sadness and the worry so deep rooted in you that you couldn't. You patted your side, telling him to silently sit beside you, to which he unhesitant obliged while your mind tried to put a monologue together.

"You are worrying me honey, what happened? Why are we in the maternity ais-"

"I suffered an abortion, Minho." You spit, tongue almost tripping over the words that left you, fingers fiddling together. "I... was pregnant, but I lost it."

"You... were pregnant?" He can't help but reiterate your words, nothing making sense in his brain.

"I didn't know I swear, I had a horrible pain during lunch and then I bled, and my friend brought me here, I- we lost a child." You mutter, the whole situation weighting too much upon you. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" He asks as sweetly as he can, one hand coming up to grab both of yours as the other went to your chin, making you look up to him, honest careful eyes falling upon yours, not a single drop of pity in him, just worry. "This isn't something you could control... or even were aware of." He says, all the words flying out his mind, he didn't even know certainly what was happening. "I... I'm not so sure what happened, but don't be sorry about it."

"I-... I don't even know how to feel, Minho." You whisper, a knot in your throat and tears swelling up on your eyes. You felt frustrated, lightless, some sort of sadness of losing something- someone you didn't even knew flowing through your veins and making you shrink in place.

"Stop trying to know everything, y/n, just feel what your heart wants to feel, it's okay, I- we can think this through back home but now just let it out, I'm here with you, I'm always going to be here with you." He says, engulfing you deeply between his arms, in his embrace trying hard to sweep all your worries away and help you, totally clueless about what to do.

You silently let your tears out, damping his grey t-shirt, his hand caressing your back and his lips leaving ghostly kisses on your temples, letting you know wordlessly that he was there, that it was all going to be ok. His mind going a hundred miles per hour, eyes picking up on the sad and pitiful glances other mothers, new fathers and nurses gave the two of you, a lady a bit older than him smiling sadly at him, knowingly.

What was that feeling inside of him? That feeling that made his throat itch, constricting his airway and pulling his guts to the floor? Was it sadness? Stress? Confusion?

No... no it wasn't that, after thinking a bit Minho defined it was the feeling of what if.

You were pregnant yesterday, he wasn't going to ask how, oh, he knew it well. You two were going to be parents until today, he... he was going to be a father, his heart dropping to his stomach at the thought. Was he scared? Hell yes. But he felt deeply sad too, he felt lost, confused, unresponsive as to what to feel upon the news.

"Minho?" You asked, voice a bit strained. Pulling him out of his mind.

"Yeah?" He asked back, in a whisper.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked back, eyes glancing up to his blank expression.

"Not even I know, love." He chuckled, thought so confusing he just let them be. "Are you okay now?" He asked, looking back at her.

"A bit better, I just want to go home."

"We'll go home, let's just stay like this a bit while, please." He whispered, heart not ready to face all his thoughts and talk about whatever happened, heart still shook.

[bvtbxtch]

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 1: Prom Night)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: You have finally started to find your own groove after accepting that Eddie and Chrissy were an item, and ultimately more into each other than you. But why do you still feel such a strong connection to Eddie? Why are you secretly wishing for their downfall? Everything comes to a head during your final high school play and the prom where a new friend makes Eddie rethink everything.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 9k (I got excited)

A/N: Holy hell! I never thought that this series would get so much love just from the prologue. I thought this was going to take me the next week or so to write, but I whipped this puppy out in 2 days. Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. Again, your feedback, reblogs and replies are so appreciated!

Prologue

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

April 1986

Falling in love with Eddie Munson was easy. He made it so incredibly simple. The spring production rehearsals were in full swing and you got the lead role. It meant long hours in the theatre with your favorite metalhead, sharing snacks, laughing at inside jokes and telling deep dark secrets. You had started to spend equal amounts of time at the Hellfire table, making quick friends with Jeff and Gareth, you grew to love and protect the freshmen as your own as well. Even though you had no interest in playing DnD with them, Eddie always invited you to sit in on their campaigns. Chrissy and the other jocks started to distance themselves from you on the days you would decide to sit with them, but it started to bother you less as you made more meaningful connections with people who liked you for you. The last 5 months caught you off guard. Things seemed like they were normal, better than normal even; until you went home alone after school and remembered that Eddie had someone else keeping his bed warm. Chrissy was there. Your best friend stealing your other best friend away from you and nobody knew.

Things between you and Chrissy were tense only on one end. The blonde always greeted you in the hallway and passed you notes in class, blissfully unaware of the heartache her new romance had caused you. But when you were in a group, she seemed to unconsciously take value to others in the group. Eddie and Chrissy had started their relationship in private, and you were their sworn protector. Even when you didn’t necessarily want them, you got all the gory details of how Chrissy let Eddie feel her up for the first time, or how Eddie is a lot more well endowed than many had previously thought. It killed you on the inside, but throwing yourself into the spring show gave you a healthy distraction. Cheer kept you just close enough to Chrissy to keep up the feeling that things were not falling apart between the two of you, but you could focus on what you needed to do on the field. It felt good to put effort into new friends and reignite passions, even though the love the two of your best friends shared would always take up a small residence in the back of your mind. 

It was three weeks until prom. You were seriously considering not going, but you knew you would regret not going, so you decided that you would make an appearance, likely not a sober one, but you would show up. You waltzed past the posters in the cafeteria, and the ballot box being guarded by the student council, stationed around it like soldiers. You knew who would be winning each crown, there wasn’t even a point in voting for anyone else. You would be there to cheer Chrissy on for the third year in a row of winnings. Like clockwork, she would accept her crown, dance with whatever meathead got crowned king, and then help her fix her mascara that ran from her happy and “surprised” tears. You rolled your eyes thinking about it; but you were snapped out of your trance when you heard the blonde call your name. You reluctantly wave to her and the other ponytails looking expectantly at you and you start to cross the cafeteria. You are interrupted by a mop of light brown hair and a gleaming smile.

“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Gareth greets. You instantly relax as your new friend puts his arm over your shoulder and leads you to the Hellfire table. You look over Gareth’s shoulder to see the cheer table staring daggers at you. Chrissy looks disappointed, and the rest of the table looks mildly disgusted. Chrissy understood why you would hang out with the freaks but she still didn’t necessarily approve. Your image was important to her as you continued to be associated with her. You look at Chrissy apologetically, but happily turn and walk with Gareth. 

“It’s good to see you, Gareth” you smile up at him. 

“How are rehearsals going? You getting excited for the big show?” He remembered, and he seemed genuinely interested. 

“Yeah I guess so! I’m sort of ready for it to be over so we can push through exams and get out of here.”

You slide out your usual chair at the hellfire table, across from Gareth and beside Eddie at the head of the table. 

“I thought you were eating with Chrissy today?” Eddie questions. 

“Good to see you too, Ed…” you mumble. 

“No, it’s just… I wanted you to see if anyone had asked her to prom yet” Eddie leaned over and whispered to you. 

Gareth rolled his eyes. Eddie had recently let him in on his secret relationship with Chrissy, since he was missing or late to more and more hellfire meetings and had been mentally absent during their band practices. He needed someone else within the group to be able to cover for him when you couldn’t, and Eddie trusted Gareth with his life.

“Why the hell wouldn’t she be going with you?” you snorted. You knew that Eddie and Chrissy weren’t necessarily public, but you would never think that she would brush him off like that. 

“I don’t know… because I’m well… me” Eddie looked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and he instantly turned red. Your skin burned when you touched him. It felt like it had been so long since you had any physical contact which made you feel empty. Eddie was always one to give you a hug, or hold your hand or pick you up and carry you down to the theatre when you were running late. He was a tactile person and it took you until now to realize how much you really missed the way things were.

“Eddie Munson you listen to me, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with you” You turned pink as you reassured him. Gareth noticed and tried to hide his smirk underneath his hands. You kicked him under the table. You wish you were the lucky person that he would take, but you know that he would soon rather die than be seen with anyone else but Chrissy.

“ I don’t know” Eddie questions as he shyly pulls his hand away from yours. Both of you felt cold after the loss of contact. “I just really like her and I really want her to be with me, you know, not in secret… sometimes I think she’s ashamed of me.”

“Well, that’s her problem then, isn’t it?” Gareth snaps. He was so tired of watching Eddie stomp all over your heart when he knew that Chrissy was going to do the same to him eventually.

Both yours and Eddie's heads snapped to look at him. He was never one to question anything from Eddie, but he looked bothered. He stood up and left the table without a word. 

“What’s up with him?” You chide. Eddie shrugs and picks at his pretzels. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you could give Chrissy a note for me? I think I’m gonna ask her to go to prom with me today.”

“Ed, shouldn’t you just go up and talk to her? She’s your girlfriend for fucks sake.” You were getting sick of being put in the middle. Neither of them understood how much their romance crushed you. 

“Whatever, I thought you would wanna help me, seeing as you’re my best friend and all, but I’ll just humiliate myself then”. He shoved his chair backwards and with a huff, he stormed out of the cafeteria. Eddie was always one for theatrics. Usually it was entertaining, but this felt more like a toddler’s temper tantrum. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he left.

Eddie’s departure caught the eye of Chrissy. She looked at you quizzically and you gestured for her to follow him and rolled your eyes. She discreetly got up and trotted out the exit Eddie had just used. The back exit opened up to the field outside. You could see Eddie’s figure heading out to the bleachers - the place where you often went to to get out of O'Donnell's class, or smoke after a particularly stressful rehearsal. But it wasn’t sacred to you two anymore. It was their spot now. You could see Chrissy’s figure following behind him. You took the rest of Eddie’s pretzels and ate them with a huff.

The final night of the play was here. Your last hurrah as the lead and the last show you may ever be a part of. Hawkins for sure does not have a thriving theatre community, so who knows what other opportunities you might have. You didn’t want this to be the last time though, it made your heart hurt and you wished this night would never end.  You had spent your time before curtain warming up with Eddie. He could tell you were nervous. 

“Sweetheart, I am telling you, you have nothing - and I mean nothing to worry about. You have been crushing this whole show run. All you have to do is go on stage and do your thing! And if anything bad happens, I tell the booth to blackout and I cut your mic!” he giggles. You didn’t find it as funny. You paced back and forth across the small stage, arms shaking and your breath hitching. None of your friends had been there to see your performance yet. You weren’t expecting many people, at least Chrissy, but she hadn’t said a word about your show or if she was coming. You pacing was driving Eddie wild. He hated seeing you so bothered.

“Y/N just relax” Eddie grabbed you by your shoulders and your whole body went stiff. Your breath caught in your chest and your heart sank to the floor. You could feel his breath on your face; you hadn’t been this close in a long time. Without being able to help yourself, your eyes flicker from his to his lips. All you would have to do is lean up and your mouth could be on his. His gaze lowered to your lips as well. You wanted to give in so badly, you wanted to kiss him, to feel like his again - but you couldn’t do that to your friend. You broke his contact and took a step back. Eddie cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly. 

“Did Chris say when she was coming to the show?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to clear the thick, tense air. Eddie’s gaze went from soft and longing to hardened. Eddie looked to the floor and shifted his weight. 

“I-uh I don’t know… I haven’t talked to her in the past couple of days.” Your eyes doubled in size.

“What do you mean? What happened that day after lunch?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it” Eddie turned to stalk back behind the wings of the stage. You pulled his arm back and turned him towards you.

“Eddie, please. What happened?”

“She said she didn’t want to go to prom with me, okay? Are you happy now? Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” His voice boomed through your skull. His eyes were glassed over, dangerously close to spilling tears, like yours have already started to do. He had never talked to you like that.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“Oh don’t be so naive. You’re fucking happy that Chrissy doesn’t want to be seen with me. This is what you wanted the whole time, right?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper to him, tears free flowing. “Why the fuck are you coming at me now when you just wanted to kiss me? I know you felt that too and you can’t deny that to me” You yell at him with a shove. You were shaking. You wanted to pour your heart out to him now, tell him how angry you were and admit that maybe you were happy that things weren’t picture perfect for them. But it wasn’t worth it now. 

“You know what, Eddie? You both deserve each other. Have a great show” you turn away from him, panting. You felt like you were going to fall to the ground because your legs felt like jello. Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders. You both looked into each other's eyes, glassy with emotion. For the first time in what seems like forever, you could not tell what Eddie was thinking. His eyes clouded with conflict, with anger, but with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. His lips quivered and his cheeks were flushed. 

You felt like your head was going to explode. What was going on? You felt like all of your weight, your body and soul were all dependent on Eddie holding you up. In one swift movement he pulled you in and his lips were on yours. Your whole body tensed, your eyes remained on his face. It was so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But as much as your mind was screaming at you, his lips felt perfect on yours, like they were made to be there. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you might crumble into tiny pieces. But this is not how it was supposed to be.

You pull away and look at him. His eyes were beautiful. The glow of his chocolate irises were back. He looked at you like you were his world, but he looked guilty. 

You slapped him across the cheek. You turned around and you paced back to the dressing room, leaving Eddie there with a burning cheek and a hole in his own heart. He walked backstage.

“Fuck!” He yelled and punched the cinderblock wall, making his knuckles bleed. He trudged back up to the booth to prepare for the show, the feel of your lips on his lingered on his  like a tattoo.

You took your final bows with heavy applause. Your heart felt warm and finally you felt like things were falling into place for you. The stage is where you belonged and where you felt the most like yourself. You had almost forgotten that you were standing in the very spot where Eddie Munson kissed you for the first time three hours prior. He shouldn’t have done that. You shook the memory out of your head. He didn’t matter right now, this was your time. You gestured up to the booth for their applause and there your gaze met Eddie’s. He was beaming, both dimples showing from the sides of his cheeks. For a moment, you saw your proud best friend. You saw the boy you made friends with in seventh grade art class and you saw the boy that came and knocked on your door to see if you wanted to go to the arcade with him. You beamed back at him, in hopes that he felt those same feelings as well. You eyes cast down to the audience and you searched for the other face you were so wishing to see. Chrissy was nowhere to be found. Instead, you saw another mop of shorter dusty brown curls and four other hellfire shirts to accompany him. Gareth whooped when you took your final bow. Your heart soared. You finally found your moment. 

The Hellfire club waited for you in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Jeff and Gareth each wielding bouquets of flowers to give you. The freshmen were buzzing about the performance. You ran to them and embraced them in a big group hug. You thought your face was going to break from how wide you were smiling. 

“Holy crap, Y/N! You were amazing!” Mike gushed.

“That actually made me regret not going to more plays here” Gareth laughed and handed you the bouquet in his hands.

“Thanks guys. I am so happy you’re here” You were so relieved to be telling the truth from the bottom of your heart. It seemed like forever since you could be totally honest with yourself.

“Dude, we wouldn’t have missed it” Jeff offered his bouquet to him and you gave both older boys kisses on the cheek. 

“Did I ever tell you guys that you’re the best?” You exclaimed, while you brought them in for another group hug. 

“I’m just gonna run and grab my things from the dressing room and then we should go grab something to eat! I am starved!” You turned and trotted towards the stage door. 

“Hey, Y/N wait!” Gareth ran up to your side

“What’s up?” Gareth shifted his weight and looked to the floor. 

“I want you to know that we - I think you’re great.”

“Thanks, Gareth” you wrapped your hand around his wrist and gave it a squeeze.

“You deserve better than you’re getting, sweetheart.” Your smile faltered.

“What do you-”

“You know what I mean, Y/N…” Gareth implored. You nod. 

“I know that I am not your first choice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom together? I promise I am not in like love with you or anything, and I want to go with you as a friend, but I don’t want to see you go alone, or worse go with friends you don’t like or don’t show up at all because I think you could win pro-” You cut Gareth off by giving him a tight hug and when you pull away you give him a kiss to his cheek. Your eyes wet with gratitude.

“Gareth, I would love to go to prom with you” Gareth lets a long breath out and laughs.

“Okay, great. That’s really great… cool” You squeezed his shoulder and turned towards the door again.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and then we can talk more about plans over some food” You offered. 

“Okay cool! Awesome! And Y/N? We’re all really proud of you. You shone out there.”

Gareth retreats back to the group to wait for you. Eddie had now joined the group, his face looked hardened. Why did you just give Gareth a kiss on the cheek? He knew, like him, that you were a tactile person. You showed your appreciation in physical ways, but he had never seen you be so close to Gareth. It bothered him more that it should. “What was that about?” Eddie interrogated.

“Nothing man, I was just congratulating her.”

“Did she say anything about me?” Eddie pressed.

“...No? Why would she?” The rest of the group snickered at Gareth’s remarks. Eddie turned away. Not only was his mind racing, desperate to talk to you, but now he was embarrassed in front of his own group of friends. He couldn’t take being in the same room with you right now. He needed time to think.

“Alright, I’m going then.” Eddie stalked off to the double doors.

“Wait! You aren’t going to come out to celebratory dinner with us?” Dustin whined. 

“Not this time. I got shit to take care of” Eddie retorted. 

“Probably another hot secret date” Jeff poked at Gareth and they both laughed. 

Eddie grumbled as he turned and opened the door to the parking lot, a cigarette already out of his pocket and in his mouth. He needed to find Chrissy.

It was 11:36pm. Chrissy had gotten home just an hour ago from an outing with Tiffany and Sarah. Her stomach was in knots, she was afraid her reputation was slipping. They had both made a comment about you sitting with the Hellfire club recently and she instantly went into defensive mode. She couldn’t handle them talking shit about you, her best friend and her boyfriend. The girls grilled Chrissy about why she had been being so nice towards the Hellfire seniors and started to put two and two together.

“Oh my god, did that Freak Munson put a spell on you or something when you went for that deal?” Sarah sneered.

“Holy shit! That would make sense as to why Y/N is spending so much time with him too. I heard she sucked his soul out of his-”

“Okay enough!” Chrissy boomed. She could feel her chest caving in. She hated hearing people talk about you that way, but she hated the idea of you and Eddie being together even more.

“He was really sweet and friendly to me when I went over to his trailer. He seems like a really nice guy. And Y/N is one of us, she wouldn’t do that with him.” Tiffany and Sarah sat with their mouths ajar, unwilling to believe that Chrissy would ever talk back to them like that. 

“Oookay, Chris. Didn’t know you were like, in love with him” Tiffany teased. 

“Ugh, as if. Let’s just drop it…” Chrissy mumbled.

She couldn’t sacrifice her already jeopardized reputation by being seen in the auditorium, where both you and Eddie would be. She wouldn’t be able to help herself around him. Her feelings towards the metalhead, although still conflicted, were growing stronger. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out in keeping this a secret if she was going to actively be seen in public with him. 

She had plopped onto her perfectly made bed with a new Danielle Steele novel when she heard a knock at her window. She looked up and her face contorted into the most beautiful look of surprise to see her favorite curly haired metalhead at the window. He looked like he lost his lucky DnD dice. She opened the window quickly and stood out of the way to let him stumble into her room.

“Eddie? What’s wrong, darling?”

“Are your parents home?” he grabbed her waist and began to back her into her wall.

“Ummm no, they’re out” Chrissy breathed. Eddie pressed his lips to her neck, moved his right hand up her torso as his left hand flicked the lock on her door.

You had tried to call Chrissy a few times after you had returned from the diner with the hellfire club. You were hurt and wanted to know where she had been. But most importantly, you wanted to tell her what happened between you and Eddie. Although you also felt your friendship slipping, this was something you couldn’t keep from her. You had showered your show hair and makeup off and had gotten yourself into comfortable pjs. The flowers the boys had got you sat neatly in a vase on your nightstand; they made you smile every time you looked at them. You had just closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep when your phone rang. You answered and you heard the cheery voice that you had been waiting for.

“Hey babe! How was the show?” So she did remember, but just decided not to show up.

“It was great Chris, but it would have been a lot better if you were actually there.” You tried not to sound angry, because in the long run, you really wanted her there. She hurt you more than made you mad. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I had this thing that I couldn’t get out of with Tiffany and Sarah. I’m sorry, you know I’ll be at the next one” She offered.

“What if that was the last one, Chris? You know what, I would rather not do this over the phone… Can I come over?”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Yeah, Okay.”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

You knock on Chrissy’s door. Unlike her previous visitor, you knew you were always welcome at her house. She was quick to open the door. She looked perplexed, worried even. It wasn’t often that you saw her being anything but her shiny happy self. You knew something was very wrong. She knew too.

“Hi.” You offer

“Hi… come in” she opens the door wider to let you into her foyer. She holds her cardigan tight to her chest. You follow her up her stairs and into her bedroom. It felt so familiar but there was a tension that made this feel foreign. You sat yourself on the end of her bed while she perched herself on her vanity stool. Even though you were facing each other, you found it hard to make eye contact with each other.

“I need to tell you someth-”

“I feel like we need to-”

You both started talking at the same time and with an awkward chuckle, you stopped talking so she could speak.

“Eddie came over after the play” Chrissy whispered. You clenched your jaw. 

“Oh, I couldn’t tell from the numerous hickies on your neck, Chris.” you poked. She wrapped her cardigan around her small frame tighter and kept her stoic expression. 

“Eddie told me that you kissed him at the theatre” she said, her tone hard. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Is that what he really told you?” You pressed. She nodded her head, not being able to make eye contact with you. 

“Huh. So what if I told you that he kissed me? That we had a fight over the fact that you won’t be seen in public with him? That he accused me of being happy that my two best friends in the whole fucking world were destroying each other, all while they pretend that I don’t exist anymore and just keep shitting on each others’ feelings, leaving me in the middle of this whole mess?” you started to raise your voice. You couldn’t believe that Eddie would ever lie about what happened, and you really couldn’t believe that Chrissy would believe him. 

“That sounds like a real easy way to shift the blame, Y/N. You kissed my boyfriend” Chrissy snaps, tears threatening to spill.

“Bullshit, Chrissy! He kissed me! And I still don’t fucking know why! He kissed me, I pulled away, I slapped him in his stupid fucking face and I left.” You screamed. Your tears flowing freely. This had been the single most confusing night of your life. You thought that the two people you loved the most couldn’t betray you more than they already had.

“Well, that’s not the story that Eddie told me” She whispered.

“Yeah… it seems like Eddie told you that story all over your body, Chrissy” she gasped and lunged for her bedroom door. Your face twisted in disgust. He used you because he was mad at Chrissy, and the he used her to lessen the blow.

“Get out.” She sobbed. 

“You tell me to leave right now, you are telling me that you believe Eddie’s word over mine - fuck, not even Eddie’s, a stupid fucking boy over my word. Me. Your best friend. The one who has been there for you since forever.” The air was thick. Both of your eyes were red and chests heaving. 

“I do. I believe him.” Chrissy gasped.

You cackled as you stood up. You huffed out of her room and bound down her stairs. You opened and slammed her front door shut and climbed into your car. You sped out of her driveway and rounded the corner. When you got out of eyeshot from her house, you turned off your car, slammed your hands on your steering wheel and screamed at the top of your lungs. 

You wanted to go see Eddie. You wanted him to tell you that it would all be okay. You wanted him to wipe your tears away and you wanted him to hold you with the same passion he did at the theatre. You wanted him to kiss you and tell you that you were right and she was wrong; but you also knew that she would be calling him right now and she would be getting the comfort you so desperately needed. You turned your ignition and started back to your house. 

The next weeks of school seemed to bleed together. You felt numb. You had no play, no Chrissy and no Eddie. Every other day, Gareth would meet you in the library to eat lunch with you. You were so thankful for his friendship. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened with Eddie and Chrissy; knowing that it would cause yet another rift within their tight group. He also thought that it was best to keep the fact that the two of you were going to prom together between the two of you to prevent the same thing; But, he knew that Chrissy had pushed you to the side. You had secretly thought that she was waiting for a reason to ditch you as a friend, seeing as you weren’t what Chrissy envisioned as a perfect person to put on her social resume. You knew that the cheer girls were starting to treat her differently because you were friends and you didn’t subscribe to the jock way of life. Gareth was there to listen through it all, and although your heart was broken, it was comforting to know that you still had a friend that was willing to help you put the pieces back together. You were grateful that one of the biggest nights of the year was going to be spent with him. 

May 1986 

Your preparations had begun as prom week came. You took Gareth shopping for a new shirt and tie.

“Are you sure I don’t need like, a tux or something?” he questioned.

“Do either of us look like we are fancy or rich enough to be tux people?” you joked.

“Fair enough.”

“You are going to look awesome in whatever we find!” you praised. Gareth beamed back at you.

You walked through starcourt mall arm in arm. The sting from the past couple of weeks had become a dull ache and you started to appreciate the little things again. You had been bold enough to take your seat at the hellfire table last Friday and although Eddie looked at you quizzically, he didn’t say anything. It seemed like there was a silent agreement between the two of you, that you were both going to put what happened at the show behind you. As much as you both wanted to though, neither of you could forget. You both remembered each time you looked into each other’s eyes. Your conversations had begun to pick up again, they were surface level and short, but you were happy for the small sense of normalcy. You wondered if Chrissy did tell Eddie about the conversation the two of you had. But in your growth you decided that you didn’t need to know that, and worrying over it was just going to cause you more stress than it was worth. 

As you and Gareth passed through the food court, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes fixed on your figure. Eddie had posted up at the mall with Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and adult friend to many of the Hellfire freshmen. 

“Dude, you gotta relax.” Steve warned. Eddie’s jaw had instantly tightened and his body had stiffened when he had seen you and Gareth walking through the mall. Why the hell were you out with him?

“Why is she here with him? Why is she holding him like that?” Eddie sneered.

“Is… Is Eddie Munson Jealous? I thought you were boning the hottest girl in school?” 

“Yeah boning. But we’re also dating and she doesn’t want anyone to know that”

“Shit, dude” Steve gulped.

“Yeah… Shit.” Eddie wished he had natural charm like Steve. Maybe it would make it easier for Chrissy to like him. He hated that he was questioning his whole person because of a stupid girl. But he really thought that he liked her. But how could she like him if she didn’t even want to be seen in public with him. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, overwhelmed and wanting to burn starcourt mall down if it meant that you wouldn’t be here with Gareth anymore.

You found Gareth a satin button up shirt and he stole a lavender bowtie that matched the color of your dress. You were finally laughing and joking faintly like you used to. It made Gareth’s heart soar. He cared greatly for you, but knew that your heart belonged to Eddie. It never stopped belonging to him, even if you told him repeatedly that you didn’t have feelings for the Hellfire leader. Even though he was hoping you weren’t going home with him on prom night, Gareth was more than happy to be taking you.

Tonight was the night. Eddie was sure that everyone in his graduating class was stirring with anticipation and excitement for what was going to be the best night of their lives. Eddie wasn’t as optimistic. He had put on his best black jeans (the ones with no holes in them) and was sitting on his bed, lazily strumming his guitar with a lit joint hanging out of his mouth while he waited for his wet curls to come to life. He didn’t want to go anymore. Chrissy had ensured the fact that she was going with Jason Carver meant nothing but keeping up appearances and that she would save a dance with him once she was crowned prom queen. Eddie felt like a charity case and had been feeling so increasingly often lately, Chrissy only daring to talk to him through notes left in his locker, or going to their hiding spot during their class breaks. Eddie was sure that he wanted to be in love with her. But when he kissed Chrissy, it didn’t feel like it did when he kissed you. He was so confused. Your relationship was finally amicable again, and he had the girl that he had been chasing after for years. But he was scared to see you tonight because he was worried he was going to mess everything up. He could be in love with Chrissy, but it seemed like Chrissy might not love him back. But maybe you did. Eddie let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his bed. He finished his joint and put on his burgundy dress shirt and put his arms through his vest. He put on his freshly polished rings and toed on his reeboks. He reluctantly started his van and began his drive to Hawkins High.

Gareth picked you up at 7 o’clock sharp. You answered the door with a bright smile and his face lit up the dusk behind him.

“Wow, girl. You look amazing!” Gareth looked you up and down. Your lavender sleeves landed just off of your shoulders, highlighting the pearls that rested on your collar bone. Your tiered skirt flowed and shimmered beautifully with the light.

“Says you! I told you you didn’t need to get a tux!” you slap him on the shoulder. To your surprise Gareth had showed up in a full tuxedo, sporting the shirt and tie the two of you had picked out.

“Yeah I know but my mom was so excited that I was going that she went out and bought me one anyway” You both laughed as you turned to take your polaroid camera off of the entryway table. 

“Let's take a picture to commemorate the occasion” you tease. The two of you place your cheeks together and smile for the camera. The light flashes and you both giggle. You were so excited to be spending an evening with your friend. 

“Jeff gonna meet us there?”

“One step ahead of you!” You heard from Gareth’s truck. Jeff stuck his head out of the back and gave you a huge smile and a wave. You laughed as you closed the door behind the two of you. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Chrissy had stationed herself at Tiffany’s directly after school to prepare for what was going to be the best night of her life. Sarah had snuck a bottle of champagne from her mother’s wine cellar and by 6pm, Chrissy could feel her own pulse in her head. She felt beautiful, she looked beautiful, but even her baby pink slip dress could not hide the insecurity on her face. The stakes were high and all she wanted was everything to go the way she wanted. Her glossed lips sank another flute of champagne while they waited for Jason and his posse to show up in the limo.

When you arrived, the Hawkins gym was decorated with tinsel and adorned with snack and drink tables on the opposite side of the stage. Your stomach fluttered at the excitement of being at your senior prom with some of the people you loved the most. You grab some punch and you Gareth and Jeff sit. Your head was on a swivel looking for a beautiful blonde, or a mop of brown curls, but to no avail. You took a big sigh and shook out your hands. Tonight was going to be a good night, you repeated to yourself. No one was going to ruin this for you. 

“Wanna dance?” Gareth held his hand out to you. You gladly grabbed it and let him sweep you out to the dancefloor. He spun you and you laughed. Any thoughts of anyone else dissipated as you laughed and danced with your best friend.

Chrissy entered the gym in awe, teetering on her pumps, and brain fuzzy from the champagne. It was her night for a win and she knew that. She walked arm in arm with Jason, a smile plastered wide and eyes full of expectation. Her eyes faltered when she saw you smiling and laughing with your date, she didn’t remember his name. She longed to give you a hug and apologize. She wanted to dance and laugh with you, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus. Tonight was her night. 

Eddie trudged into the gym, head already aching from the synth pop being played out of the large speakers. He grabbed a small flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He sauntered over to the punch bowl and grabbed a cup, eyes scanning for two women. He found neither. Who he did find was his hellfire clubmates sitting at a table on the outskirts of the gym. Eddie tramps to them.

“Who let the freshmen in here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine” Jeff offers as he shakes Eddie’s hand “Looking good Ed. I didn’t know you even knew what a dress shirt was”

“Ha ha… I feel like shit. How long do we have to be here for?” Eddie whines

“Dude no one is making you stay! So have some fun with your friends would you?” Dustin scolds. Eddie scowls as he sinks into a chair at the round table. He immediately senses your absence. He looks around inquisitively.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks. Jeff nods towards you on the dancefloor and Eddie’s heart stops. You looked absolutely radiant. He felt his hands get clammy and his chest got tight. You looked so happy and carefree. He missed seeing you like this, his girl the way he remembers you the best. He smiles to himself when he hears you laugh.

“Gareth, stop spinning me, I'm gonna throw up!” 

His smile faded. Gareth? You were here with Gareth? He saw the mop head holding your hands and laughing with you. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he saw red. Jeff saw Eddie’s gaze harden.

“Eddie, don’t.” Jeff warns. “She’s having a really good time.”

Eddie didn’t respond. He took the flask out of his pocket and took a long swig. As he put it away, he stood up, vision locked on your dancing figures. Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. Dustin and Mike looked at him confused. Jeff shook his head at them, implying that they didn’t want to know.

Eddie sauntered up to Gareth and grabbed his shoulder. Your smile faded as Gareth turned around to face Eddie.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. Gareth looked at you apologetically.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He squeezed your hand and let Eddie guide him out of the gym. You were left in the middle of the dancefloor, too stunned to move or say anything. Dustin came to your side and asked if you wanted to sit back down with the club. You nodded, dazed, but followed after the two boys into the hallway instead.

Eddie pushed Gareth into the hallway and grabbed onto his lapels. You ducked around the corner so you were within earshot and close enough to help Gareth if he needed it.

“What the fuck are you doing Gareth?”

“What are you talking about, Munson?” Gareth pushed Eddie off and he began to smooth out his jacket.

“Why are you here with her?”

“What, like you were going to ask her to go with you?” Gareth challenged. Eddie looked at him dumbfounded. “Look, Eddie. If you really cared about her, you would let her have a good time tonight. You’re too busy with Chrissy lately anyway so I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal…”

Eddie clenched his fists and stalked towards Gareth. You covered your mouth to prevent the two from hearing your gasp.

“That’s my girl… you’re here with my-”

“Oh shut the hell up, Munson! She’s not your girl! Your girl is here with Jason fucking Carver. The guy that has been tormenting us for fucking years! Get your head out of your ass and stop playing with Y/N. She isn’t yours.” Gareth yelled. Eddie wracked out a sob and turned away from his friend. Gareth’s stomach sank and he watched his friend unravel in the hallway.

“I didn’t ask her here romantically, Eddie.” Gareth offered. “I care about her a lot, but I know that she doesn’t like me. I know exactly who she wants to be here with.” Gareth bores into Eddie, only hoping that their conversation will knock some sense into him. You slip back into the gym and sit with the hellfire club, mind racing thinking about what you just heard.

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue to keep having fun with my friend.” Gareth stepped closer to Eddie and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get your shit together, Munson, and then try and enjoy yourself for once.” With that, Eddie was left alone in the hallway. He pulled at the roots of his hair, and let a string of profanities leave his mouth. It was better than punching a wall like last time.

Gareth returned to the gym and sat next to you with a smile, reassuring you everything was fine. Gareth whispered in your ear, telling you he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin this night for you or him and that it was time to have fun and forget about everything happening outside of this night. You couldn’t agree more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a thankful hug. He laughed as the two of you positioned yourselves towards the stage as the principal announced the prom king and queen would be crowned shortly.

Eddie slithered back into the gym, his arms crossed and a grimace glued on his face. He saw Chrissy and although his heart should have skipped a beat, it did nothing. She looked beautiful, gorgeous even. But she wasn’t you. But you made it clear, and Gareth made it clear. You weren’t his and you didn’t owe him anything. You deserved to have a good night and as much as he wanted to take you away and drive off with you, he knew that couldn’t happen. So he would settle for his dance in secret, and the potential for some action after Chrissy got her ten minutes of fame. 

As the microphone squealed and the gym quieted, Chrissy shifted in her chair restlessly. Her dress felt too tight, and Jason felt too close. She wanted the boy that made her feel the prettiest. She wanted the boy who would do anything for her to be beside her. She wanted to dance with the boy who told her that he adored her. Her eyes scanned around the gym and she saw him lingering against the back wall. She sent him a wave as she smiled brightly. He waved back but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She thought she knew why he was so upset. He hated seeing her with Jason. She was starting to hate being here with Jason too. When Jason was called for prom King, he patted Chrissy on the thigh, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sauntered up to the stage to receive his crown. Chrissy felt like she was going to be sick. This was the single most important moment to her. Principal Higgins held a white envelope in his hands.

“And this year’s prom queen is…” He fumbled with the envelope.

You were rooting for Chrissy. You knew that you didn’t need to be, but there was part of you that was longing for your old friend back. Maybe her winning prom queen would bring her back from her orbit. 

“Chrissy Cunningham”

Chrissy opened her perfectly glossed lips into a gasp. She stood timidly and strutted to the stage to accept her crown and flowers. She flashed a beauty pageant smile and wave and sobbed a thank you to the gym. You could tell that she was definitely not sober. You worried for her, but this was also your night. She was Jason’s problem, not yours. It gave you a small bit of relief to see Eddie was not in a matching baby pink getup to the blonde’s. They didn’t come here together. You knew you shouldn’t be holding out hope, but the scene he caused on the dancefloor and now this, you couldn’t help but be a bit hopeful.

Once Chrissy and Jason took a bow as king and queen, the DJ had spun a slow song. Gareth offered you his hand again and you happily accepted it. Dancing with Gareth had been the most fun you have had in a while. You both went to the dancefloor and dramatically rocked each other back and forth. 

Chrissy left the stage and as Jason went to grab her to dance with her, she tossed her flowers to him and trudged across the gym in Eddie’s direction. Jason looked back to his posse confused, he followed Chrissy’s bouncy curls to the opposite end of the gym.

Eddie nursed his flask as dancers started to repopulate the space. He saw you get up with Gareth. He scoffed and took another swig of his flask. When his eyes returned to the mass of students, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes bounding towards him. He stood in shock, not knowing what Chrissy was doing. When she reached the wall he was leaning against, she stuck out a perfectly manicured hand to him, her face set with determination. She led him to the middle of the dance floor. 

“Chris, wh-what are you doing?” Eddie breathed

“Shut up, Munson. W-we are gonna d-dance:” she slurred. 

“We don’t have to-” She stopped him in the middle of the gym and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could see Jason fuming behind her and he smirked down at her. 

“You’re ready to stir the pot aren’t you, doll?” Eddie chuckled. 

“Yeah, I’m r-r-ready to start some, some shit b-because I-I love you, E-Eddie Munson.” Her blue eyes bore into him. Did he really just hear her properly? He felt like there was only one right thing to say.

“I, I love you too, Chrissy,” Eddie hesitated. Before he could wrap his head around what had happened, Chrissy pulled his head down to hers and planted a searing kiss on him. He quickly returned her offer and swiped his tongue over her lips. She deepened the kiss. Eddie felt like he was floating, but it didn’t feel like it was a good feeling. Chrissy tasted sour like wine and Eddie’s head pounded. But feeling this was better than feeling nothing. It was better than the emptiness he felt when he saw you being held by someone else. He kissed Chrissy like no one was watching, while in reality all of the gym had directed their gaze to the world's oddest couple they could imagine.

You swayed Gareth back and forth, laughing so hard your stomach hurt and your face felt like the smile was never going to leave. Once your laughs subsided, you pulled Gareth in closely and rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and hummed in content. 

“Thank you, Gareth. This has been such a great night”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I am having so much fun with you” Gareth rubbed small circles into your waist as you turned slowly. You opened your eyes and you instantly stood up, your body tensing under Gareth’s touch.

“Hey, what’s wr-” Gareth turned to look behind him and saw the picture perfect way to ruin your night. Gareth stiffened and grabbed your hand. You didn’t want to look but you couldn’t avert your gaze. You felt like you were going to be sick. Gareth grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Let’s go get some fresh air, okay?” You nodded your head and let him lead you out of the gym.

As Eddie broke his kiss, the first thing he saw was you taking in their display. Then he saw you turn and leave the gym with Gareth’s hand in yours. Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it and ran out of the gym after you. 

You refused to let the tears fall. You didn’t want to ruin your night with Gareth and you didn’t want to give Eddie and Chrissy the satisfaction. Why would he look at you the way he did, why would he say those things to Gareth? Why would he call you his girl? Gareth could tell you were trying to process, so he squeezed your hand to ground you and remind you he was here for you. 

“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice ring out. The voice you wanted to hear the most and the least. You turn to find Eddie standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Gareth gripped onto your hand tighter, a scowl setting on his face.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you manage to squeak out.

“I-I’m sorry” he huffed. “I’m so fucking sorry”

“For what, Eddie? For being defensive all night, telling Gareth that I’m your girl?” Gareth and Eddie both tensed. “For knowing that my heart fully belongs to you and you actively shitting on it? What is it?” You were angry. You deserved to be angry. This time, it was Eddie’s turn to cry. You walked towards him, cheeks growing hot. You came chest to chest with him when you heard the gym door fly open.

“E-Eddie, my love?” Chrissy giggled. She stopped when she saw the three of you in the hallway. “Oh no.” She murmured. 

“Chrissy, go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Eddie ordered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Tears are now dangerously close to ruining your makeup.

“Hmmmm, no. I think I wanna st-stay for this Teddy” she cooed. She stumbled towards him and threw her weight on him. 

“Yeah, Teddy. She might want to stay for this.” you sneer. You could feel your blood heating up, your hand tightening on Gareth’s.”Why did you kiss me in the theatre?” You take a step back as Eddie opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. “Tell me it wasn’t because you were in love with me and I’ll walk away right fucking now.” you sniffle.

“He didn’t love you, babe. He only kissed you b-back  b-because he f-f-felt bad for you. That’s what he told me” Chrissy hiccupped. Eddie looked at you, his eyes now freely flowing.

“Y/N… Please” Eddie begs. You laugh at him.

“Is that the truth Eddie? Is that how you really feel? Or is that what you told Chrissy to feel better about the fact that you kissed me, and you didn’t want to stop?” You spit.”Or was it what you told her to get in her pants without any punishment?”

“Please don’t do that” Eddie whispered. You start to back away with Gareth. Eddie tries to peel Chrissy’s arms off of his torso.

“I’m leaving right now Eddie and you have a choice to make. You can come with me and that will be enough of an explanation.” You stood strong and dropped your hand that was holding Gareth’s. He whispered your name softly. You turn to him and smile tightly to let him know that it was okay. You turn back to Eddie who stands still.

“Eddie, lets gooooo.” Chrissy whines.She began to pull his arm back towards the gym. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. He looks to you, completely heartbroken as your gaze hardens at the drunk prom queen hanging around his body. You chuckle as he lets Chrissy pull his body back towards the gym.

“Great. We’re done.”

You hear Eddie release a broken Sob as you grab Gareth’s hand and walk through the double doors.

Chrissy finally drags him back towards the bustling music and plastic tinsel of the gym. He felt like he could throw up. How could he just let you walk away?

Gareth opens his truck door open for you and helps you get seated in the passenger seat. He stands in between you and his truck door. He kissed your forehead and began to run his hand up and down your arm.

“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?”

“You know what, a milkshake sounds really fucking great right now” you smile. Gareth laughs and you eventually join him.

“Milkshakes coming right up.”

Taglist:

@mxcheese , @anislabonis-love , @zenathebeautiful , h-ness1944 , @nymphetkoo , @tlclick73 , @darknesseddiem , @nega-omega , @them-cute-boys , @eggo-segual , @browneyes528 , @ali-r3n , @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet , @elvendria , @itsjustwous , @littlemisslovestoread , @kjcmama , @chloe-6123 , @navs-bhat , @loveforreading , @thegirlthatsfalling , @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e , @metalhead-succubus

[taralaurel]

3:17

After Buck gets struck by lightning, Eddie allows himself time to break down. Every day. Every morning. For three minutes and seventeen seconds.

Fandom: 911

Relationship: Buck&Eddie, Buck/Eddie

Rating: Gen

WC: 1.8k

"So, three minutes, huh?" Chief Williams cocked her head to one side.

"Uh, what's that?"

Eddie watched Buck glance up at the woman, a face full of innocent ignorance to the gravity of what was being asked of him.

"That's how long you were dead?"

Eddie hadn't hesitated.

"Three minutes and seventeen seconds."

Read on AO3

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Five

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

Listen to the Take Care playlist!

A/N: I love a story when it gets MESSY don't you? We're officially over the 40k word mark! Huzzah!

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter Five

You considered yourself a punctual person, but this time you were late. After finishing the article, you collapsed as soon as you got home. You didn’t set an alarm for the next morning, nor did you expect to sleep for a staggering fourteen hours, but when you woke up less than an hour before the bus left Richmond for Liverpool, you almost had a heart attack. 

You ran to Nelson Road with wet hair, no make-up on and so much random crap in your bag that you genuinely didn’t even know if your wallet or keys were in there somewhere. As you rushed into the stadium car park, you let out an abrupt sigh of relief to see that the bus was still there. Everyone was on board, and you’d felt your phone buzz in your pocket several times during your rush, but you hadn’t stopped to look at the messages. 

Only when you stepped on board the bus and allowed yourself to breathe, did you let yourself smile and laugh at your idiocy. 

“Hey!” Ted was the first to erupt in greeting, but the rest of the guys followed suit immediately after. “Did someone miss their wake-up call?” he asked. 

You sighed deeply, stepping further onto the bus as the doors finally closed. “Don’t ask. All the missed sleep finally caught up with me.”

Ted nodded in understanding. “Well, you’re here now. Go cop a squat with the guys.” 

You smiled as you walked down the small bus corridor. The guys all greeted you in their own ways, and you were thankful that you’d decided to join them instead of sitting out. As you approached the back, a circular group of seats that reminded you of sitting at the back of the bus at school, you caught Roy’s eye. There was a spare seat beside him, which he gestured to for you. You dropped into the seat next to him, bashing your shoulder against his softly, before the bus started moving.

“We all thought you’d bailed,” Roy said. “You didn’t reply to my texts.”

“You texted me?” you asked, quickly grabbing your phone from your pocket. There were several texts from Ted and a few missed calls, and a few from Roy. You winced. “Sorry. I’ve only been awake for forty minutes, I passed the fuck out last night and forgot to set an alarm.”

Roy hummed, almost like it was his own version of I told you so. You shot him a playfully annoyed look, and he raised his eyebrows at you in response, a small smile curled onto his stoic face. You huffed to yourself, settling in for the journey up North. Despite sleeping for so long, you were still fucking exhausted. You’d thrown clothes and toiletries into a backpack before rushing out, and you couldn’t face looking at the mess that you’d created just yet. You were glad the game wasn’t until the next day, because you still had an awful lot of sleeping to do. 

As the bus lulled to a pleasant buzz, you found yourself sinking deeper into your seat. You brought your knees to your chest and curled yourself into a ball comfortably. Next to you, Roy had his earphones in and was listening to an audio book of some kind. You peered over him, gently resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, to take a look at the title. 

He peered down at you softly, before he plucked one of his earphones out. “It’s The Grapes of Wrath. Wanna listen?” he asked, and you quickly pulled away to meet his eye. 

You looked up at him tiredly. “That’ll definitely send me to fucking sleep.” 

Roy huffed, sending you a perked brow. “I thought you were a fucking writer?”

“I am. But even I have my reservations about the classics.”

“You’ve read it before?”

You nodded. “Three times. It made me cry every time, just to warn you.”

Roy digested your words for a moment, before he offered his opposite earphone to you. You took it gently from his fingers and slotted it into your ear. “I can take it,” Roy muttered to himself, as both of you sat back in your seats and got comfortable for the ride. 

After an hour, you’d dozed off heavily. Roy leaned all the way back in his chair, allowing you space to lean against his shoulder gently. As the bus bumped on the motorway, you shifted slightly, and fell into his chest. Roy peered down at you softly, letting out a gentle cough to clear his throat. He positioned himself to the right slightly, and let your head rest against his breast bone. You snoozed softly, almost silently, as he started playing the next chapter of the audio book. 

Opposite him, Colin Hughes and Isaac McAdoo saw the scene unfold before them. The gentle tilt of Roy’s body to accommodate your sleepy head, the almost imperceptible smile that lay on his lips, the shallow way he was breathing to stop his chest from moving too much. The look on his face was blunt and plain like normal, but with every stare that he sent down your way, the boys saw exactly what was happening. 

Colin elbowed Isaac silently, shooting a look at you and Roy. A smile upturned on Isaac’s face. Something boyish and playful that every man could recognise at one point or another. When he moved his gaze upwards, he was shocked to meet a steely stare from his Captain. Roy looked at Isaac and Colin in turn, and it was enough to make them both recoil and sink into their chairs awkwardly. 

Roy cleared his throat again painfully. He acted like nothing was happening. He pretended like he didn’t want to fall asleep beside you, all the way until you reached Liverpool. 

You slept like a baby that night. You hadn’t slept this much in your entire fucking life, but upon arriving you’d had about two hours of energy after your bus nap, before you had to retreat to your room and rest for the remainder of the evening. You missed out on team movie night– the guys watched Sleepless in Seattle– which was a fucking bummer, you knew, but you’d rather be alive for the game. 

You were at the end of the corridor to the guys, near the rooms of the Diamond Dogs. Ted’s room was next to yours, which you knew from your abrupt awakening– you could hear his over enthusiastic Southern drawl through the thin walls on the morning of the game. He woke you up after answering a call with What’s shaking, Kevin Bacon! 

You got yourself up and dressed, and joined everyone for breakfast at the hotel. It was utterly silent as everyone ate their meal. Even Roy looked more pissed off than usual as he cut into the golden yolk of a fried egg. Next to you, Ted happily sliced into another sausage. Gently, you leaned towards him. “Has someone fucking died or something?” You looked around at the glum faces of the guys. “Why does everyone look like they’ve been slapped?”

“Oh, well.” Ted started. “Richmond haven’t won an away game at Everton for six years–”

“Sixty,” Beard interrupted, correcting Ted. 

Your eyes widened. “Sixty?” you whispered harshly. “Sixty fucking years?”

Ted let out a hum. “Oh, yeah. That’s my mistake. It has been sixty years since they’ve won.” 

As you ate your breakfast, you understood why all the guys looked so fucking defeated already. Even on the way to the stadium they stayed the same way, silently contemplating and accepting another loss before the game had even begun. You tried to send them all reassuring smiles, but none of them matched your energy for more than a second at a time. It was fucking miserable. 

You jumped off the bus when you arrived and stood with Sam and Roy before splitting up. “Good luck, Sam. Bring the heat like you know you can, alright?” you said, before you gave Sam a tight hug.

He hugged you back fiercely, as if trying to inhale all of your good vibes. “Thank you. Having you in the crowd is good luck for us, you know?” he said, before pulling away. 

“What?” you let out softly, shooting him an amused look. 

“It’s true! I am not a superstitious person, but about this, I am. You bring good luck.” He beamed at you, and you huffed at him in subtle embarrassment. 

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, before he disappeared into the stadium with the others. 

Roy milled about a bit longer, making sure all the guys got off the bus safely. You stayed put next to him the entire time, trying to think up something smart to say that would ease his nerves. You didn’t know what any of them were feeling, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to understand them better. If you could put yourself into their shoes then you’d be able to cater for them in different ways. 

You peered up at Roy for a split second, ready to say some words of encouragement, but he cut you off before you could. “You sitting in the owner's box?” he asked, sending you a stoic look. You gulped back your prior words and nodded instead. Roy hummed. “See you on the other side.”

Roy left before you could say anything coherent. He strolled past the press with his mouth in a straight line, leaving you behind at the bus on your own. You watched him go until he entered the stadium, seeing the strong way he walked and the way his fingers were balled into fists. As much as you’d wanted to, not wishing Roy good luck was something he preferred. He felt the nerves, the anxiety, for himself and his teammates, and you knew that well. Wishes of good luck only ever seemed to make him madder. 

You sucked in a sharp breath and entered the stadium then, readying yourself to scream for your fucking life for your team– for Richmond. 

Needless to say, the atmosphere was second to none. You sat with Rebecca and Keeley in the owner’s box, on the away side, and didn’t calm down for ninety minutes. The guys played electrically, moving as a fierce unit like never before, and everytime they scored you went absolutely insane. You cheered and screamed bloody murder, jumped up and down on the spot, and didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. 

In the second half, near the end, the guys were slowing down. You took it upon yourself to sing their praises to oblivion, but not even you expected to be so into it. During the final goal, Roy assisted Sam to get it into the box. When you saw him, pumping his arms to hell before he tackled one of Everton’s boys and got the ball to Sam, you held your breath until everything exploded. 

During the eruption after their final, winning goal, you jumped up and leaned against the balcony edge of the owner’s box. You inhaled sharply, and realised it strongly, alongside a “Go on, Roy!”

It echoed throughout the stadium, reverberating off the walls and slanted ceiling loudly, until it hit the player’s ears. Roy was doubled over in exhaustion, but he lifted his head when he heard it. It took him no time at all to seek you out– he’d asked you where you were sitting beforehand, after all– and when his eyes hit yours, you couldn’t stop yourself from whooping and hollering in his favour. 

You didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you were overly proud of them. When they bound their way back to the locker room after the full time whistle, you practically jumped to follow them. Keeley laughed beside you triumphantly, and followed behind you as fast as she could in her tall heels. You slalomed through the press all the way to the away locker room, before you burst through the door. 

“You fucking thrashed them!” you screamed upon entry, and the guys matched your energy tenfold. 

Sam was the first to encase you in a hug, before you were overtaken by multiple sets of limbs. Isaac lifted you off the floor when he wrapped his arms around you, and you let out a much needed pent up sigh as you stepped back afterwards. You took in their pristine faces, and you thought that, perhaps, you’d never felt more like you belonged. This all started out as a slap in the face, but with everyday that passed, you felt more and more a part of this incredible family. You felt lucky, and that was saying something, when before you’d been so unlucky to step through the doors of the Dogtrack. 

You leaned against the cinder block wall for a moment, remembering the scene that played out before your very eyes. This would become a core memory in time, you decided, and you knew that when your year was up, these were the times you’d think back to. Their elated faces, their hugs of affection, their love bursting from every pore and crack and crevice that it was almost suffocating to withstand. 

“You can fucking yell,” Roy said, appearing on your left suddenly from the rabble. 

You breathed out. “Roy,” you greeted him softly, over the fucking moon. “Congratu-fucking-lations!”

“Sam was right,” he said, placing an abrupt but welcomed hand on your shoulder. He squeezed you affectionately. “You bring us good luck.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, but nevertheless felt your cheeks warm. He raised his eyebrows at you playfully, happily. You enjoyed every moment the stoic look on his face was replaced with something different, something soft and joyful. Now was one of those times. 

Suddenly, Roy hoisted himself onto one of the benches, and let out a loud “Oi! Listen up!” to his teammates. They all stopped celebrating to listen to their Captain. “None of you are going back to the hotel tonight! ‘Cause we did something today that no one thought we could do, including us! So we’re going out, we’re celebrating, and we’re gonna rub it in this city’s fucking face!” 

The locker room erupted once more, and before you could peer up at Roy, you were pulled into the mob of players as they started to chant– Richmond till we die! We’re Richmond till we die! We know we are, we’re sure we are, we’re Richmond till we die!

Keeley let you get ready in hers and Rebecca’s suite. It was huge, and kitted out with lavish decor and a fully stocked mini-bar. Keeley applied her lipliner in the bathroom, while you sat on one of the plush sofas and sipped from a glass of champagne. You felt content, you felt known. It had taken you half the fucking season, but you finally felt happy where you were. 

Despite the familiarity of going out with the team, you felt that today was different. Not just from the way the guys all loved you, but from the increasing tension that buzzed between you and Roy that you simply couldn’t ignore anymore. You wanted to tell him about the article tonight, wanted him to read it before you did anything rash, but there was a part of you that didn’t want him to think that was all you liked him for– your career, your assignments, your degree. Roy Kent was fast becoming someone that you simply enjoyed being around, more than anything. You didn’t want him to think of himself as less. 

“Babes?” Keeley called from the bathroom. 

You breathed in and left your jagged thoughts. “Hm?” you replied. 

Keeley shot her head around the frame of the bathroom door, lipstick finally applied. She took one glance at your back, slumped and in thought, and furrowed her brows. “You okay?” she asked, and you twisted yourself around to face her. 

You sent her a genuine smile. “Never been better,” you said, and you found yourself believing it. 

Keeley rushed towards you and jumped on the sofa. She picked up her glass of champagne and made a show of hovering it before yours. “Shall we toast?” she asked. 

You raised your glass next to hers. “Always, but to what? The team?”

“No,” she said. “To you, and your article.”

You scoffed. “Oh, please.”

“I’m being serious!” she exclaimed. “Only you could make Roy sound so… human. It was emotional, strategic, but above all– you made me care about Roy Kent as more than a footballer. You should be fucking proud.”

You felt bashful, but nevertheless smiled at her compliments. “Thanks, Keeley,” you said gently. 

She raised her glass higher. “To you becoming a writer, any fucking day now,” she said. 

You chuckled lightly, and clinked your glass with hers, before both of you downed the contents. Bubbles fizzed up your noses, almost being spat out as you spluttered with laughter, but the two of you held it together. It was a matter of time before things got crazy, and you knew you wouldn’t be prepared. As you left the suite with Keeley, a bag across your body and spring in your step, you told yourself to enjoy it– at least while it lasted, before all of this ended in a matter of months.

Thanks to Keeley brainwashing everyone, karaoke was definitely on the cards. The guys booked a private room for the whole team, and upon arrival you were all coerced into requesting songs for one another. You sat on the sofa with Keeley, chatting away with Rebecca and her friend Flo, aka Sassy. The guys were ecstatic, and you were happy to be part of it all. Even Roy had a permanent smile fixed on his face, next to a beer in his hand at all times. 

As the songs went on, you found yourself enjoying yourself more. You all settled into it, enjoying one another's company, joking around as the guys queued songs to embarrass someone, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t been overly aware of Roy’s presence all night. He never went out with the guys in London, never joined in for post-match pints or a night on the town, and you’d been waiting for a moment like this with him. Yet, you couldn’t move from where you were. You stayed back and let him be, all the while wondering if he was ever going to approach you himself. It was childish, and made you feel even more so like a schoolgirl who was crushing hard, but the thing you were worrying about the most was the bomb you were going to drop on him– you’d finished the article, and you wanted him to read it before you submitted it anywhere. That was the goal. 

After Bumbercatch had performed Sex on Fire, you went back to chatting with Keeley, but that was promptly interrupted by an abrupt “Oi!” from yours truly. You twisted yourself on the sofa to meet his gaze above. Roy peered down at you, empty beer glass in hand, and a small smile on his tipsy face. “Need a refill?” he asked, and you smiled immediately. 

“Yes, please,” you said, as you stood up and followed him to the bar. You slalomed through other people enjoying their night out, until you both ended up at the main bar. The music was loud, and the place was packed, but you felt at ease next to Roy. “I’ll get these!” you yelled over the noise, but if Roy heard you at all then he chose to ignore it.

He ordered two more pints and tapped his card against the machine without hesitation. You pouted as you zipped up your bag again, looking at him sternly as he passed you your pint. “One of these days you have to let me buy you a drink, Roy.”

He shrugged. “I don’t fucking mind. Not when it’s you.” 

You looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

“Because you don’t expect it. Everyone else does when you’re a footballer. They expect the drinks and food and the fucking bill sorted, but you never have,” he explained.

You scoffed. “Yeah, because my mother raised me with manners.”

“Good woman,” he said, before he clinked his full glass against yours. All you could do was laugh, as the two of you took generous sips of your drinks together. 

You took a moment to glance around the main room of the club. It was bustling to the brim. People danced and drank joyously, and a few managed to scramble onto a small stage and use the pole that was there. You hadn’t been out to a club like this in a long time, and it made you even happier to think about the people you were with. A stellar team, a kind group of guys. You couldn’t believe how much you’d lucked out with them all. 

Roy gently leaned to your ear, his beard skimming your cheek softly. “Need some air?” he asked, and as much as you wanted to say yes, you knew you had a song queued in the karaoke room. 

You leaned into his ear in return, savouring being close to him like this, even if it was brief. “Keeley queued a karaoke song for me!” you said, and the mischievous face that Roy sent you was one that you added to his expression bank in your mind. 

“Come on, then!” he yelled over the noise, before he offered you his arm. 

You took it as the two of you made your way back to the private room, but within the space of five minutes, the rest of the club was on the brink of bursting. As Roy took no prisoners and shoved people out of his way, you dealt with the opposite. You tried to stay glued to him, but it proved useless when you tried to cross a packed pathway. As Roy pushed himself forward, you were caught in the crossfire and pushed away. Your arm twisted out of his own, and you stumbled backwards abruptly. Your beer sloshed in its glass, and trickled down your fingers as you tried to compose yourself. You couldn’t see Roy anymore, just the bobbing heads of other club goers. 

“Oi!” Roy boomed from further in the club. It was then that the crowd parted, like Moses with the fucking Red Sea, and he stomped his way towards you sternly. When he reached you, he peered down at you strongly, before he snaked his hand around your waist for a moment. “You go first,” he said into your ear, and you walked forward with him right behind. His fingers gently bobbed upon your lower back, always near, just letting you know that he was close. 

“Are you Roy fucking Kent?” one of the club goers yelled out, and Roy abruptly turned to the person in question. He looked no older than a university student, and had a very distinct Scouse accent. 

“Yeah. What of it?” Roy replied, and the kid before him all but backed down. 

“N-nothing,” the kid stuttered out. “Nice playing today.”

The crowd around the kid erupted suddenly, questioning his loyalty to their local team. You didn’t stick around, though, as Roy gently pushed you forward and towards the karaoke room once more. When the crowd died down more, he moved himself to your side, but kept his fingers on your back, just grazing there, in case he needed to step in again. 

An attendee pulled open the curtain to the private room for you both, and you finally let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus fucking Christ, thanks for that,” you let out, and Roy nodded at you.

“I have no patience for little fuckers that get in the way,” he said. 

You scoffed, and took a sip of your beer. “It’s a wonder why you have so much patience for me, then.”

Roy furrowed his brows at you, amused. “Don’t fucking push it,” he joked. 

You shot him a beaming smile, one that had your cheeks hurting as soon as it encased your face. At the front of the room, Keeley snatched the microphone from the previous performer. She tapped it once, alerting everyone to the stage. “Hey!” she spoke through it, her voice booming through the room. You and Roy turned to her immediately, and she caught your eye. She smiled. “Come on! You’re up!”

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered under your breath, and took a few large gulps of beer before you headed to the stage. Roy gently grabbed your drink before you could leave, and propped them both down on a table as the guys went crazy. 

They cheered and screamed as Keeley passed you the microphone, and you tried to keep it together. You’d done karaoke before, just not when you were this sober and coherent. You didn’t even know what song you were fucking singing, until the large TV for lyrics flashed the title– Womanizer by Britney Spears. 

As the song started, Roy watched on from the crowd. Over his dead body would anyone sign him up for something like this, but seeing you fumble through the initial nerves was endearing to witness. Keeley, Rebecca and Sassy egged you on to oblivion, alongside the chants from Ted and Beard, as well as the members of your fan club– Sam, Colin and Isaac to be exact. It was impossible not to smile as you performed, getting more confident as the song went on. 

Roy crossed his legs where he sat, right opposite the stage, as you towered above the rest of the team. Tonight was a good night. He was surrounded by his teammates, his bosses, you, after a win that no one had been expecting. The only thing that could possibly make it better was the opportunity to talk more with you, in a different setting, socially. There was no doubt in Roy’s mind that you were the life and soul of any party, especially from the upbeat way you sang and laughed at yourself on stage. When he thought about it, about you, he often found it hard to find anything to criticise. He couldn’t even rightfully say that you were pushy anymore, not after he’d jumped at the idea of your article before. 

It was then that he realised, while watching you fail to hit high notes from laughing too hard– Roy couldn’t fucking say no to you. Even when he wanted to, even when he needed to, probably, he couldn’t fucking do it. 

When the song finished, you thanked your lucky stars that it was fucking over. You breathed heavily as applause broke out everywhere, and when you jumped off the stage you found that your legs had turned to jelly. You stumbled as you made your way back through the crowds, and dropped yourself down next to Roy as if you’d been close to collapsing. 

He huffed as he handed you your beer, and you downed half the glass as fast as you could. When you finished, you met Roy’s overly amused face. “How did I do?” you breathed out. 

“Well, no one’s ears are bleeding. I call that a win,” he replied. 

You scoffed, embarrassed, but nevertheless embraced your shit performance. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” you let out, and Roy chuckled beside you warmly. You leaned back on the sofa only to realise that Roy’s arm was draped behind you. Neither of you moved. You were comfortable this way. 

As Beard got up to perform Lady Gaga, Roy leaned closer to you. You could smell his cologne when he did, as you gently leaned forward to let him find your ear. “Need some air now?” he asked, and you smiled to yourself, before you gently nodded at him in agreement. 

The two of you shuffled out of the room again, and headed to the smoking area out the front, missing the crowd of drunk people inside. As he emerged into the cold outside, Roy gently looked back for you. You caught his eye with a smile, before the two of you found a secluded area to perch upon outside. You both sipped at your drinks in silence, thankful for the space and quiet for once. As much as you were enjoying yourself, you’d been dying to get out for some breathing room. 

You sighed, content. Roy copied you, as your white breath surrounded one another before disappearing into thin air. “I can’t believe we fucking won,” Roy said first, and you turned to him gently. 

“You all played amazingly,” you added, and Roy peered down at you softly. “Seriously, and I obviously know what I’m talking about.”

Roy raised his brows at you. “What’s the offside rule?” he asked. 

You waved him off playfully. “Don’t go making new rules up, that’s just not fair,” you said sarcastically, and when a small chuckle burst from Roy’s lips you felt validated. You felt it whenever someone laughed at your jokes, but with Roy it felt extra special. 

Roy shuffled on his spot, and his shoulder gently bumped into yours. You were struggling to balance the nerves in your gut, made even worse by the fact he was so close to you. There was that feeling, one that told you, if you lingered on each other for just a second too long, that you would wind up kissing. You sucked in a sharp breath, before you swilled your beer around in its glass, just to do something with all your pent up anxiety. 

Innately, you knew that now was as good a time as any to bring up the article. You’d have to do it sooner or later, or risk not submitting it at all. You thought back to Rebecca’s words, about how she’d been too quick to assume that Roy wouldn’t give a shit, but you still wanted to try. If he was indifferent, it was still OK to actually submit it, surely?

You cleared your throat gently. “I finished the article,” you said, and Roy’s face hardened slightly, but he was still listening. “I know that you hate this kind of thing.”

Roy growled, but when you turned and caught his eye, you knew it wasn’t a full blown pissed off growl. It was more like a growl in agreement. You smiled at him, genuinely, flicking your eyes over the features of his face softly. “Yeah, I do,” he said abruptly. Your smile disappeared slowly. “But, if it helps you do something great, that’s a good fucking thing.” When he peered down at you, you felt immediately at ease. 

You huffed affectionately. “Really?” you asked, just to double check. This was what he did– made you feel special, made you feel heard. “That’s great, Roy, really.” You sighed in relief. “I was so nervous you wouldn’t like it at all, and when you get around to reading it I can make changes to anything you really don’t like–”

You were cut off by Roy laughing suddenly. It wasn’t a sound you’d heard often, but nevertheless it was something you welcomed. What he was laughing about, however, had you confused. 

“What?” you asked, smiling. 

Roy took a sip of beer before he met your gaze. “I’m not gonna fucking read it.”

Your heart dropped into your gut suddenly. “What?” you let out again, as butterflies tore their way through your internal organs. 

Roy breathed out. “I was never going to fucking read it. But, I did the interview and everything you wanted, right? That’s enough, isn’t it?”

You struggled to compute his words, and instead let out a chuckle instead of coherent words. You placed your glass down and took a few stumbling steps away from him, trying to figure out why the fuck he let you interview him, write about him, all of it, if he was never going to fucking read it in the end. This wasn’t how you rolled. You didn’t want people to do things like this for you if they didn’t want to, and Roy definitely fit in that box– even more so. The last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. 

“I– I’m just confused with this,” you said, trying not to lace too much annoyance within your words. “Why would you agree to this, if you were never going to read it when I was done?” Roy shrugged, but the pained look on his face revealed that there was more there. You stepped forward. “Why, Roy?”

“Because! I– fucking hell,” he exclaimed. He put down his drink as he found his words, and let out a sigh before he spoke. There was an exposed look on his face, one that you recognised as when someone was about to admit to something. “I struggle… saying no to you.”

Your blood boiled. It was a miracle you didn’t erupt on the spot, but you were too busy trying to stop your legs from turning to jelly, and your fingers, and your limbs. You peered up at Roy with wide eyes and the strangest urge to fucking bury yourself beneath the ground you stood on. If there was one thing you never wanted to be, it was an annoyance. Yet, with those six words, Roy had just admitted to how he’d never wanted to do the article in the fucking first place, but placed himself in that situation from not being able to deny you. 

It made you feel stupid. It made you feel mortified. How had you not noticed that he’d been utterly against it from the start?

“Oh my god,” you muttered, gobsmacked. “I’m an idiot.” Roy reached out for your arm, but you abruptly slalomed out of the way. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“How is that a bad thing? It meant you could still fucking write it, right?” Roy said, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t get how it felt when you realised you were nothing more than a blight on someone who didn’t actually give a shit. Someone stuck to his side, following him around, asking for things that he didn’t deny, just to appease you.

“How is that a bad thing?” you repeated him, raising your voice. “You never wanted to fucking do this in the first place, Roy, but you made me think that it was okay! Oh my god.” You smacked your hand over your mouth abruptly. “I stayed at your house for six fucking hours!”

You felt embarrassed. You felt like a nagging, boring uni student. 

“I don’t see why this is such a fucking issue,” Roy said, matching your anger.

“I never wanted to put you in an uncomfortable position, I wanted to write something good-”

“You did all that, so why do you need me to fucking read it?”

“Because I wrote it for you, Roy!” you exclaimed, and Roy’s mouth shut instantly. “I wrote this for you. I wanted to write something about you that you’d actually like reading.” You frowned at him, your eyes glassy. You weren’t expecting this to blow up in this, nor were you expecting Roy to completely ignore what you’d actually written. 

You desperately wished he’d read it and told you he hated it, instead of this outcome. 

You remembered what it had been like before. His attempts to avoid you, so that you wouldn’t bug him. His easiness at telling you to leave him the fuck alone. His aversion to being around you. All of this could have been fixed if he’d set up boundaries with you– boundaires to back the fuck off, ones that you would always uphold if you knew they’d been in place. 

���I don’t think anyone will be able to write something about me that I actually like,” Roy let out, and it only made your heart sink more. “That’s not on you. That’s on me.” He took a step towards you, but you only backed up when he did. 

“I won’t submit it,” you said suddenly. 

Roy furrowed his brows. “Why the fuck not?”

“I was never going to submit it without getting your approval first, Roy,” you said lowly. 

“I fucking approve!” he let out. 

You were shaking your head before he was even done talking. “I’ve made up my mind,” you said, before you forced yourself to look at him. You felt tearful, you felt childish, but most of all– you felt embarrassed of yourself. “I’m so sorry I roped you into this to begin with.”

“Hey,” he said strongly, and finally reached out to grab your forearm. “This isn’t a big deal.” You inhaled sharply when he got in close, trying and failing to make you believe anything different. He’d said how he felt so clearly that nothing was going to make you change your mind, and all you wanted to do now was give him space. 

“I beat myself up about asking you to do this,” you started. “I spoke to Keeley about it and everything, and she reassured me that it would be okay, that you’d say no if it was something you didn’t want to do. For fucks sake, Roy– this is a big deal,” you pleaded with him. “I stayed up all night to write it, I pored over old news stories about you, I fucking worked hard to make this something you’d like, was so excited about it, just for you to tell me you’d never planned on reading it from the beginning. Do you understand why I’m upset now?”

Roy’s expression softened. He hadn’t thought about it that way, hadn’t thought about the impact it would have on you when he spilled his true intentions.

“If you’d told me the truth from the start then it would have saved all of this from happening,” you added, and you gently tugged your arm out of his grasp. 

You sniffed, and let out an abrupt laugh from a lack of what else to fucking say. You felt gutted, worse than you’d feel if he’d read it and laughed about it being shit– that you could have taken on board and worked with, but this was a different ball park altogether. This was Roy not respecting his own boundaries to try and make you happy, only to have all your work, time and effort mean nothing at the end of the day. It felt like a slap in the face. 

You rationalised your feelings then, as quick as you could. You couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at Roy’s blatant dismissal of your work, but you also understood that he didn’t have any intention to hurt you. With that in mind, you turned back to him and softened your expression. You tried not to show how upset you were, you didn’t want to make him feel any fucking worse. 

“Next time, just let me know if you don’t want to do something, okay?” you said, but the wobble in your voice was noticeable. It hit Roy in the chest harshly, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. 

You shuffled back to where your glass was and picked it up. You downed the rest of your beer, ignoring the painful bubbles in your chest, before you looked back at Roy and forced yourself to smile. “I need a refill. I’ll head back inside,” you said, and you didn’t give Roy a chance to respond before you entered, through the main door, back into the club. 

CHAPTER SIX

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl@royalestrellas@weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon 

[queenie-blackthorn]

sometimes i feel like i hate everyone

[romanroycoo]

After The Fall - Vincent Renzi x Reader

Summary: After the trial of the death of your husband, you struggle to come to terms with this new life and the trauma of what has happened before. Vincent Renzi, however, becomes your comfort, staying beside you the whole time. A friends to lovers fanfiction

CW: Mentions of a knife, Vincent accidentally hurts himself, angst, fluff, obvious flirting, reader is depressed, grief, hurt and comfort, mentions of death, ex-husband was abusive - no mentions of it in this chapter.

Chapter two- Dinner.

“No, I want to, Y/n. It’s the least i can do to cheer you up.” You and Vincent had finally gone downstairs at this point, it been a while since you stopped crying thanks to the comfort of his presence.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you but you have to let me at least help.” He’d offered to cook for you, but you weren’t having it. Coming all this way and then cooking just for you? It seemed absurd.

But he did and he wants to.

You look across the kitchen with a challenging smirk and he smiles and begins to softly laugh. “Okay.”

*************************

“How is it looking on the pasta?”

“Not too long now, and you’re doing what exactly?” You stare in confusing as he begins to prepare a mixture of green leaves.

“The garnish.” He says, completely involved in what he’s doing. You loved his concentration face, it was like nothing could ever break his focus. You smile at him.

“Shit. Ah.” He mutters, suddenly holding his other hand, blood trickling down his skin.

“Oh shit! What happened? Are you alr-“

“I’m alright. Don’t worry.” He assures walking over to the sink calmly before running the water. “ The knife got me, they’re well sharpened.” He jokes.

“Yeah, Samuel liked to keep them.. um.” You didn’t finish the sentence, you didn’t want to. You walked over and began to pull up the sleeve of his jumper and move around any things left in the sink as if they were in his way. It wasn’t necessary but, you wanted to help him. You couldn’t help it.

“I’ll go grab the first- aid box, i’m sure they’ll be some band-aids in there somewhere.” You pass over an old cloth. “Keep the pressure on it, obviously.”

He watched as you left the room, a smile painted on his face. The cut didn’t even matter anymore, he couldn’t feel it. He could only focus on you.

“Here, i’ve got one.” You passed it to him quickly before turning back to the pans in the stove, making sure nothing was burning or boiling over.

He stares at the band-aid and then back to you. “Um, Y/n. Sorry, could you put it on. I can’t get it on properly.”

“Of course.” It felt like you were kids again, helping one another like this. You could both feel the closeness, glancing back and forth at each other’s faces innocently. You could sense his gaze on you even when you focused on his hand and the band-aid. It made you nervous. But you didn’t want him to stop.

He could feel the soft touch of your hands on his, the warmth of your fingers carefully placing the Bandaid over the injury. It was like this short moment, was an hour long and he wanted to bask in it for as long as he could.

****************

“I think the garnish was worth it.” He jokes, you were both laughing by this point. Food was finished and it was late. You knew he would have to go soon.

“Thank you, Vincent.” You look into his eyes, he stares back into yours. There was something so special about the way he looked at you.

“Of course, Y/n. It wasn’t a problem.” He states, still holding the eye contact. “I better get going. I don’t want to over stay my welcome.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome.” You assure. You really meant it.