#holy shit there are gonna be fics on him

[golden-earcuffs]

the moment i saw ethan morales i knew tumblr was gonna come up with x reader fics

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 3)

—

Tw: Vivisection mention, torture mention (GiW agent receiving), me not actually knowing how telegram works

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually.

(Pt. 1 here) (Pt. 2 here) - (Pt. 4 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It’s an average, ordinary afternoon in Gotham, and Jason is in hell.

Specifically, Jason is in hell because he’s been researching the GiW for the last week or so, ever since a cryptic message from Scarecrow of all people.

He still hasn’t gotten anything substantial out of it that Scarecrow hadn’t already provided. Most location data had been previously scrubbed from the database, weaponry details were apparently all stored physically, and the experiment logs seemed to be only accessible from within one of the bases, whose locations Jason did not have.

Apparently Babs and Tim were having similar issues with gathering information. He had sent a copy of the files over to them in a moment of weakness, but they were having the exact same results as him.

To make things worse, the GiW was more active than they had been previously, combing through Crime Alley and the rest of Gotham tirelessly. At least they weren’t harassing him anymore, he thought, but now he had even less of a clue what they wanted.

And to top it all off, the Joker had escaped Arkham a few days prior to Jason receiving Scarecrow’s note, and he still hadn’t done anything. That could only mean that he was planning something big, which meant more grief for Jason, because the clown was obsessed with him.

So yes, Jason wasn’t having the best week.

He got up from his computer, stretched, and walked over to the window.

The sky was Gotham’s usual grey, clouded with a toxic miasma made up of traditional pollutants and the aftermath of gas attacks both, which could generously be called ‘smog.’

The streets seemed busier than usual, or maybe that was just because Jason was having a hard time keeping his eyes focused.

With blurry vision and a dull ache in the back of his head, Jason paced through his apartment, going through everything he knew.

The GiW, or Ghost Investigation Ward, were part of a secret government project having to do with ‘ecto-entities,’ which were mostly made up of ghosts.

The GiW was able to kidnap and steal away anyone who was ‘ecto-contaminated’ to be dissected, and it was completely legal.

According to the non-censored patrol reports he was given, Jason himself was considered ecto-contaminated. So were Bruce, Damian, Steph, and Cass.

There were also several rogues that were in the same boat, but their names had been redacted, presumably by Scarecrow. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he guessed it was either for leverage or privacy. Knowing Crane, it could be both.

Anything useful about the GiW seemed to be stored physically within their compounds, or on an operating system that couldn’t be accessed outside of certain areas.

Anything useful about ghosts was conveniently removed by Scarecrow.

And, lastly, he knew from capture logs that they had numerous captive ghosts which were definitely being experimented on. One of these ghosts was named Daniel, last name redacted, and had been turned over by his parents in return for allowing them to run their own experiments on the boy.

From what he could tell, it had been around fifty two days since he had been turned in.

Fifty two days of experimentation and dissection.

Jason had to find him.

But first, he had to find the locations of the GiW bases, and plan his entrance carefully. He couldn’t let them get away because of a simple mistake.

The only location data he had been able to find was on a picture of the boy, Daniel, a picture of a vigilante in a red suit, and a quick note left about Daniel which hadn’t been transferred into the main database.

The note was…

Jason had been around crime for a very, very long time. He understood it intimately, in a way most people would never hope to achieve.

He understood hatred, too.

And yet, the words in that note were almost incomprehensible to him.

They were mockery of a child in pain. A child that was not seen as human. A child that was seen as a threat, a monster.

The man had detailed the security surrounding the child being cut back. Apparently, the kid had some sort of sonic scream. They were removing the muzzle that inhibited it because he had screamed himself hoarse, and he couldn’t make a sound anymore.

He also mentioned that the kid was cut open at least once a day, sometimes multiple times. He was opened up, played with, and sewn back shut.

The man joked that they should just put a zipper on him, so they wouldn’t keep wasting their stitches.

Jason really, really wanted to kill that guy.

The metadata on the note traced back to a newly-bought building in Gotham’s financial district, while the photos both came from Amity Park, Illinois.

Amity Park, Illinois did not exist in any official capacity.

Tim, who had taken the Batplane to check the precise location listed in the metadata, had reported that there was a town there after all, and it was on complete media lockdown from the rest of the world. He hadn’t even been able to use Bat, Justice League, or Young Justice channels to message anyone outside of the city until he left.

Jason had checked the building in the financial district firsthand, and found that the man who had submitted the note had done so while resting on a patrol of the city. He seemed to go there often to avoid his superiors, and Jason found it easy enough to get the drop on him the third time around.

His advanced interrogation techniques hadn’t been enough to get the man to name any locations. Worse, the man definitely recognized Red Hood, and would definitely tell the rest of the GiW about what had happened as soon as he left.

So, Jason did something about that. He couldn’t kill him, unfortunately, so he did the next best thing.

The GiW sent him to a public hospital within a few hours of finding him with shattered hand bones, broken arms, and a throat with near-permanent damage. The man wouldn’t be able to speak for a month at least.

He might never write again.

Jason, having read the note over and over until the words stained the backs of his eyes, thought it was the least he deserved.

Jason sighed, stopping his pacing. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. If anything, working himself up was only going to lower the chances of him magically coming to a realization about where the kid was or what in the hell was going on.

He walked into the kitchen, popped some leftovers into the microwave, and started them up.

Once they were done, he brought them out to his desk, intending to eat as he continued to work on the GiW case.

When he saw his screen, he froze.

Telegram had been opened to a new chat with someone he had never messaged before.

TooFine: who are you?

TooFine: why are you looking into the giw?

The messages were a couple of minutes old, probably sent while Jason was spiraling pacing. He just stared at the screen, dumbstruck.

Shakily, he responded.

RedDead: How the hell did you get my contact info

Whoever was on the other side of the screen paused for a second. Jason considered sending a quick text to Babs to tell her what was going on, but he decided that he could handle this by himself.

TooFine: got it from the backdoor I put into the giw system.

RedDead: Shit

TooFine: ok your turn

TooFine: why r u looking into the giw? seriously man

RedDead: I don’t have a single reason to tell you. Give me one and I might answer your questions

TooFine paused again. Clearly they both had issues trusting someone over the internet, and rightfully so. What they had both admitted to doing was incredibly illegal, and if someone turned them in, they would be in deep shit.

TooFine: ive been trying to take down the giw since it was created. I can help u if ur honest with me

RedDead: Oh yeah, because no one has ever lied to another person on the internet before

RedDead: But fine

RedDead: I’m looking into them because they’ve been shadowing me for over a month at this point, among other reasons

TooFine: other reasons?

Jason sighed. He shouldn’t have added that. He knew that the other guy would ask, but he said something anyways.

RedDead: They’ve got a kid. I don’t like it when people hurt kids

TooFine: Danny? he’s alive?

RedDead: From what I can tell

So he knew the kid. Or, at least, he was pretending to. It would make sense for him to be cagey about his intentions, and for him to be desperate enough to reach out.

TooFine: oh my god

TooFine: do you know what city? fuck

TooFine: fuck fuck fuck

TooFine: I need to find him man please

RedDead: He’s somewhere in Gotham

RedDead: I’ve been trying to find him for a week now but no dice. They keep everything important on separate servers

TooFine: listen man you’re a good hacker but you’re not as good as me. you need my help if we’re gonna find Danny

RedDead: Okay, what are you trying to get me to agree to?

TooFine: i’m coming to gotham and we’re going to meet up

RedDead: Hell no

RedDead: Stranger danger

TooFine: if I tell u who I am will you say yes

RedDead: ?? How am I supposed to verify if you’re telling the truth

TooFine then sent him what seemed to be a selfie. Jason’s jaw dropped at the kid’s sheer audacity.

RedDead: There’s something seriously wrong with you

TooFine: my name is Tucker Foley. i live in amity park. i’m in 10th grade

RedDead: ???????? WHAT THE HELL

TooFine: i can send u my address too

RedDead: PLEASE DON’T??

RedDead: WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING DAMAGE? DON’T DOXX YOURSELF TO ME

RedDead: WHAT IF I WANTED TO KILL YOU OR SOMETHING? WHAT IF I WAS A FED

TooFine: i have to take that chance.

TooFine: Danny is my best friend. they’ve had him for over a month and no one’s doing anything to help. mr. Lancer was the only one who cared and he gave up after they blackmailed him

TooFine: they’ve had him for OVER A MONTH. I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD.

TooFine: Sam and Jazz and I are coming to gotham and we’re going to find him no matter what it takes

TooFine: you have to help us

Jason considered, for a second, the choices he’d made in his life that had led up to this moment. He also considered, if he was in this kid’s position at his age, if he would be doing the same.

He decided to throw the kid a bone.

RedDead: [4735.jpg]

TooFine: HUH

RedDead: I’m guessing you know me

TooFine: RED HOOD??????

RedDead: No I’m just a very dedicated LARPer

TooFine: am i gonna die for Danny right now

RedDead: If I were literally anyone else, probably

RedDead: But no, you’re not. I’m gonna help you find your friend

TooFine: your username is red dead and you’re. yeah ok

RedDead: Oh come on, it’s funny

TooFine: Danny would love you

RedDead: So Danny clearly has great taste in jokes

TooFine: nope. literally loves puns and wordplay

RedDead: Nevermind

They both paused for a second. Then, Jason had a thought.

RedDead: Wait you’re in the 10th grade and you’re hacking into government databases?

TooFine: please don’t tell my parents.

RedDead: And how are you supposed to explain a sudden vacation to Gotham to your parents?

TooFine: wait so you’ll help me?

RedDead: I really hate to say it but I’m not the best at hacking, and my usual help is busy trying to track down the Joker. So, yep, we’re teaming up

TooFine: LET’S GOOOOOO

RedDead: God. I’m asking a 16 year old to help me take down a government agency and save another 16 year old

RedDead: I feel like the bat

TooFine: oh my god this is awesome. Danny is gonna flip when the actual real-life Red Hood comes to save him.

RedDead: I already regret this

TooFine: too late.

TooFine: btw do u have any place for 2 teenagers and 1 adult teenager to stay in gotham? preferably without dying but yknow.

Jason groaned. He was really, really gonna regret this, and he knew it.

Still, the alternative was some overeager kid dragging two other idiots to Gotham to find their friend and getting themselves killed. At least this way he’d have help, and damn good help at that.

He really was turning into the Bat, wasn’t he?

—

[devotioncrater]

im literally gonna...be sick to...my stomach. house and wilson wanted each other so viscerally in 3x19. all wilson had to do was barge into house's office and wordlessly kiss him. like. that's all it would have took. house wanted wilson to do that SO SO SO badly. i need to lay down

[alagaesia-headcanons]

*rubs my grubby little hands together* alright here we go~ stick with me for a minute, this Does come around to murtagh and eragon's relationship i promise

-

I find it ironic that the circumstances of Murtagh’s life that went so awry- his capture by the Empire, his and Thorn’s enslavement using their true names, and them being forced to fight against the Varden- can paint him in a particularly selfish light. Eragon’s perspective reveals some of this, like the way he calls Murtagh’s oaths to Galbatorix a betrayal, one that favors his own wellbeing over Eragon and the Varden, or how he feels like Murtagh takes satisfaction in his new power and in lashing out at the world. And the fact that these things can be seen as self-serving specifically is ironic because it directly contradicts the actual quality of his character. Every time we see Murtagh acting of his own volition, over and over it proves that, more than anything, he is deeply devoted to the people he cares about- to a self sacrificing extent- and that he has an innate desire to help others.

Repeatedly, Murtagh puts protecting his loved ones above his own safety, and that’s true even in the act Eragon calls a betrayal. When they talk in Uru’baen, Murtagh admits to Nasuada that he willingly chose to swear loyalty to Galbatorix, but also reveals that he only did so after Thorn hatched. Murtagh himself had already suffered savage torture without relenting, yet solely for the sake of Thorn, to keep his hatchling partner from suffering as well, only then does Murtagh swear loyalty. And this is a self sacrifice. This undermines what he tried to make of his life before being recaptured- striking back against the Empire, aiding Eragon and Saphira, and proving his good will to the Varden. He had to give up all these things about himself and submit to slavery under a man he loathes, but Murtagh was willing to do that to protect Thorn.

And yet, while still trapped so hopelessly under Galbatorix’s thumb, Murtagh also goes out of his way to help Nasuada too. He convinces the king to capture her in the first place, instead of simply killing her, and whether or not this was his place, it demonstrates how he genuinely doesn’t want her to be harmed. He goes out of his way to help Nasuada by healing her pain, warning her about illusions, and promising to help her escape. And he makes good on that. From what he tells Eragon in their last duel, he had a plan to free her the next day. Murtagh goes to great lengths that put him at great risk. Galbatorix could have just as well discovered his interference and then nothing would have saved him from violent punishment. Freeing her would have guaranteed that. There’s nothing for him to gain, yet he still does these things for Nasuada time and time again.

The care Murtagh gives to Thorn and Nasuada proves that his selfless protectiveness toward his loved ones is a persistent part of his nature, but it’s never more clear than it is in his relationship with Eragon in the first book.

In Inheritance, Murtagh tells Nasuada that his initial motivation for going out to track the Ra’zac was to hurt the Empire and to prove himself as more than his father’s son. Nevertheless, from the time that he saved Eragon from the Ra’zac onwards, he demonstrates a desire to help that goes beyond a personal gain. On the contrary, I feel like his constant willingness to help while he personally strives to be recognized as his own person indicates that his helpfulness is a genuine part of his nature that shapes his desires and actions. And that nature shows itself repeatedly. Murtagh rescues Eragon a second time when he’s captured in Gil’ead, planning with Saphira and sneaking his way in to free him. When Eragon later thanks him for it, his response is, “‘I’m just glad I could help. It...’ Murtagh faltered and rubbed his face.”

After going to great lengths and knowingly risking his life to free Eragon from Gil’ead, Murtagh's instinctual response to his gratitude is that he simply wanted to help his friend. And this comes up again. When they fight in the Hadarac Desert, Eragon tells Murtagh he never had to travel with him or rescue him. “‘I haven’t forced you to do anything.’” Murtagh’s response is always funny to me because he’s irritable, afraid, and angry and so he’s deliberately trying to be mean and act like he doesn’t care about Eragon, and yet his reply is, “‘Oh, not openly, no. What else could I do but help you with the Ra’zac? And then later, at Gil’ead, how could I have left with a clear conscience? The problem with you...is that you’re so totally helpless that you force everyone to take care of you!’”

It does nothing except prove how much he cares about Eragon and wants to help him! “‘What else could I do but help you with the Ra’zac?’” is especially funny because the glaringly obvious answer is to just. not help. But then that makes it clear that Murtagh so genuinely and inherently believes he should help that he doesn’t see not helping as a real option. And even though he phrases it insultingly in his frustration, what he ultimately says about Gil’ead is that he couldn’t have made himself abandon Eragon when he couldn’t defend himself. He would have felt too guilty because he considers saving him the right thing to do.

I feel like a large part of this springs from Murtagh’s core morality and desire to do good, but there is also an element rooted in his relationship with Eragon specifically. They get along; Murtagh likes him and he trusts him and that matters when the help he gives him puts him at such risk. Murtagh is self sacrificing in the way he protects and looks after Eragon. Sneaking in to Gil’ead to rescue him could have cost him his life- Eragon himself acknowledges that when he thanks him for it.  And the risks he takes for him aren’t just overblown or inconsequential. When Murtagh enters Gil’ead beforehand, in Eragon’s stead, to find out the Varden’s location, he’s recognized and has to flee. When he stays with Eragon as they run from the Urgal army, it forces him to the Varden where he’s imprisoned.

And yet those repercussions don’t undermine Murtagh’s devotion to Eragon. Even when they reach the Varden, the one place Murtagh did not want to go and will rob him of his freedom, his heartfelt care for Eragon doesn’t falter. After Eragon’s mind is searched by one of the Twins who then tries to do the same to Murtagh, they have this exchange:

“‘Eragon has been declared trustworthy, so you cannot threaten to kill him to influence me. Since you can’t do that, nothing you say or do will convince me to open my mind.’ Sneering, the bald man cocked what would have been an eyebrow, if he had any. ‘What of your own life? I can still threaten that.’ ‘It won’t do any good,’ said Murtagh stonily and with such conviction that it was impossible to doubt his word.”

Murtagh’s statement is striking to me because the blatant, undeniable meaning behind it is that, if they’d tried to test Murtagh first and threatened to kill Eragon if he didn’t comply, he would have done it. Murtagh would have let the Twin examine his mind to save Eragon’s life. And the privacy and sanctity of his mind is of paramount importance to him. He says as much to Ajihad when he also tries to convince him to be examined. He declares as much right here! Murtagh explicitly states that protecting Eragon’s life is the singular thing that could make him yield. He would give up his own life before exposing his mind. This has even more gravity for Murtagh specifically. He’s self sacrificing, but not reckless in the same way several of the other main characters are. He’s not one to toss his life aside; he fights hard to survive. So his willingness to die to guard his mind hammers home how important that is to him.

Because of that, even though such a situation never came to pass, Murtagh’s admission that he would give that up to protect Eragon’s life is the most salient proof of his devotion to me. And that’s considering he also fights the Ra’zac and infiltrates Gil’ead for him! I honestly don’t have another word for it- Murtagh holds a truly profound devotion to Eragon that is built upon his desire to help others and to fervently protect the people he cares for. These aspects are so integral to him that they determine his most significant choices.

[vanlegion]

Eh, I was in a weird experimental mood. Have this. Dubbed 'Who Are You?' Pretty sure I've said this but I love characters that either are not human or beyond human... because existentialism is fun to think about.

My monitor makes this look 3-D which is awesome.

[theloonatic]

(Fic!Posting)

I think Nina, heartrender, fighting Djel, the man who was shot in the heart, starting the generational trauma of Fjerda, is my writing of all time

[radical-rapscallion]

REMEMBER YOUR ABC'S

Always

Be

sCamming

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Turn The Radio Up

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Chapter 12/? - - - Read it on AO3

Word Count : 9,063

Summary: Joyce is headed back with Murray and a certain someone in tow. Which means they all just need to survive a few more hours on their own. They just need to do a few things to take care of business, and wait.

More ST Fics

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Nancy took the boys to the police station, where an officer let them into the Winnebago. And honestly, as she was doing so, she’s never been so grateful she left something behind in the Upside Down. If she didn’t vividly remember dropping that sawed-off felony when they found the trailer empty, she would be in a whole different kind of mess. Instead, they were there for the clothes the Upside Down crew had before gearing up in Warzone attire, and a few things they hadn't wanted to bring through the gate with them. Steve told her that he’d grab Robin’s stuff and run it over to her, so Nancy just picked up her own things and the backpack they’d left behind when they ran everyone into the hospital. There were a few other small items she packed away while Lucas and Dustin got together his clothes and the other walkie.

When they left, the cop marked off the items they were taking from the inventory sheet, just in case they tried to use the opportunity to rob the Jamesons. Which… okay, maybe she could be more offended about the assumption if they hadn’t actually stolen the whole RV itself just a few days ago. So she let it slide, and they piled back into the station wagon.

Overall, it wasn’t a long visit. Nothing to write home about. They threw their stuff into the back and were planning to pick up the other kids to go by the hospital when they heard Steve’s voice come through their walkie.

“Hey guys, we have a bit of a… a thing.”

“A thing? Over.” Dustin questioned him, eyebrows high on his forehead while Nancy focused on pulling onto the street.

“Yeah… it’s not a whole situation, but, um, definitely a thing. Well, it’s two things, actually.”

“Two things? Steve, I need you to start explaining right now. And say 'over' when you’re done. Over.” Dustin said, rolling his eye at Lucas, who silently nodded in agreement.

“Over, whatever,” the voice came through muttered and annoyed.

“So, what’re the things, Steve? Over.” Lucas leaned over to ask this time.

“There's, like, a whole news station outside the hospital, so it might not be a good idea for everyone to come by. Since we planned to keep the Cali Crew’s Epic Return off the radar.”

Which made sense.

It stung that they wouldn’t be able to visit, but they really shouldn’t be seen on television if what the boys said was true. About there being some government faction that pretty much wanted to kill El. That is, if the government lady who told them that while she tried to put them on house arrest was to be trusted. And that debate was a whole other can of worms, as far as Nancy was concerned.

Ugh, just trying to sort through what they knew, what they suspected, what they feared, and what they could even do about any of it... that mental maze was going to give her a headache.

And that was only one thing. It was a big, head-aching thing, but just one. And Steve said there were two. And so, after a pause, he continued.

“And also… Max’s mom… kind of… knows… Over.”

“Excuse me,” Dustin said calmly, before exploding,” WHAT?! Over!”

“I saw her while I visited Max, and Susan said that in the letter she left, Max said she wanted to explain some stuff to her. Over.”

“Some stuff? Over.”

“About what’s been going on.”

“Specifically, Steve. Over.” Dusting urged again, clearly not loving how vague the older boy was being.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask, and I didn’t know what to do- so I told her I’d call her tonight and… explain? Over.”

“Shit, Steve.” the boy said, forgetting to say ‘over’ in his shock.

“Well, what would you do?!” Steve got defensive,” She was, like, crying at me, looking at her kid, and begging to know if she was a bad mom for not knowing what was going on with her daughter! I couldn’t just throw her a ‘What? You’re crazy, lady!’ and skip down the hall! Over!”

“Shit, Steve!” was still all Dustin could think to say back to him.

“Well? Game plan? You guys got one of those for me?” Steve asked.

The boys looked to Nancy, who’s been silently driving this whole time, turning over the options in her head. She’s in charge, on that they all agreed. But that was a big decision. They haven’t… told anyone, who didn’t find out themselves, except for Murray, and that was way different. She’d wanted to, for Barb, for the Hollands. But she didn’t, couldn’t. The best she could do was give them a different lie so they could move on… but what do they do here?

“Nancy?” Dustin asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered.

He passed it along into the walkie,“ No, game plan here, dude. Over.”

“What if we ask Joyce? Over.”

With that, Nancy snapped her head back a bit and held out her hand. Silent, though her demand was clear. One that Dusting understood in just a moment before he placed the boxy device right into her grip.

“Joyce? You heard from Joyce?” she spoke into it, completely forgoing the walkie-talkie manners Dustin quietly griped about to Lucas.

“Yeah. She called me at the hospital to get in touch with the Byers kids. Said she was going to be on a plane with Murray and be back here tonight. Already sent her to my place so she could let them know.”

“Joyce is getting back to Hawkins? Tonight?” She reiterated.

“Yes. That’s what she said.”

“Okay, okay,” Nancy breathed,” Then we’ll call Susan to come by your house after we get together for the strategy session. Have her come by when Joyce lands, and she can decide what it is, exactly, that we’ll tell her. Got it?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Steve agreed.

Nancy felt better at least having that decision off of her plate before she asked,“ You headed back there now or…?”

“I’ll stay here a bit longer.” he answered,” Talk to ‘em both like the nurse said to. I’ll drop by the station after a while, pick up my stuff and meet you guys back there later.”

“Alright. You know when Robin’ll be free from Church?”

“Should be soon. If you wanted to pick her up and wait at my place with the others, you’re welcome to.”

“Yeah, I’ll snag her with Mike and Erica, and we’ll be there when you get back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She passed the walkie back to Dustin’s waiting hands, to which he informed her and Steve,“ Neither of you guys said ‘over’ that whole time, by the way. Over.”

“Oh my god-” the older boy bemoaned.

“Do you want to walk back to Steve’s, Dustin?” Nancy threw back at him.

“No! I’m just saying we have had a system of walkie-talkie usage for years! And, now that we need to get everyone on the frequency, you supposedly ‘mature adults’ are the ones who can't follow the rules!” he argued.

“Hey, Dustin?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“You just forgot to say ‘over’. Twice.” He pointed out, voice full of teasing glee that he could knock him down a peg at just the right moment,” Over.”

“ASSHOLE!” Dustin all but screamed into the receiver.

“I’m turning your volume down, little man. Yell and scream all you want, I’m going to relax. Maybe even take a nap-”

Dustin cut his transmission off,“ Steve, you’re supposed to be talking to them-”

Steve cut his short in turn,“ Night night, Henderson. Over.”

Dustin sat scowling in the back seat,” He’s supposed to be talking to them.”

“You really think he won’t?” Nancy asked him, a knowing gaze that made the boy uncross his arms and admit that, yes, Steve was just messing with him because he was being a bit of a turd about the walkies.

The next stop was the Sinclair’s, where Erica climbed into the very back, pinching off her nose as she did so and kicking at Dustin’s dirty laundry while they went to grab Mike. They added him to the backseat and pulled out of the driveway before Ted Wheeler had a chance to realize Nancy wasn’t immediately giving the keys back after the allotted trip to the police station. Then the last stop to make was Robin’s place. And Mike complained the whole way over.

Complained that he and Nancy were blood, so he deserved the shotgun seat. Complained that they should just go straight to Steve’s so they can see the Byers sooner. Complained that they weren’t going to the hospital to sit with Max and Eddie anymore. Complained that Steve was going to rub off and make Eddie stupider by spending time with him. Complained that Dustin and Lucas were traitors when they told him to be nicer to Steve.

God. He was really becoming a little angsty sourpuss in his teenage years.

Eventually, they got Robin in with them, and Nancy practically sighed in relief to have an ally against all the children in the back. While the boys and Erica made some ruckus about something she didn’t even want to understand, Nancy and Robin fell into some kind of small talk.

“So, how was church?” she asked, somewhere between not knowing what else to ask, and real curiosity because it was something she’s never gone to.

“Well, it was church,” Robin said plainly,” It’s still a place that’s mostly boring, if not a little guilt-trippy. Same stiff clothes I never wear otherwise. All the same old ladies my grandma has known since I was a little tike, each wanting to lament about how long it’s been since they last saw me on a Sunday morning.”

“Wow, so you guys really do, like, actually go to church.”

“Yeah. I’ve been in those pews ever since I can remember. Really only got out of it so much recently with how busy I’ve been with school and work. But now that those are both on pause and I went missing - and with a pair of boys, no less -” she used a haughty voice to imitate her mother,” Now it seems like the parents are less understanding of my disinterest in the institution.”

“That’s so… interesting?”

“It’s interesting?” Robin doubted.

“Well, Mike and I never really did the church thing. Our parents aren’t really… ‘devote’, I guess. I mean, our dad’s about as traditional and conservative as they make ‘em, but, eh, I guess God’s never really been our thing.” Nancy explained.

“God’s never really been my thing, either, to tell the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, for the first three or four years, I would pretty much just follow my family in, take our seat, try and roll with it for a few minutes, and then end up using my jacket as a pillow and falling asleep in the pew the whole time. Then I got old enough that they said I couldn’t just keep doing that anymore. So I figured out how to follow along in the hymns, tried to pay attention. I had this aunt that would slip me mints and let me check her watch through mass to keep me contained. That's pretty much how I learned to read an analog clock face." she gave a little laugh at the fact," And I just had all these questions, and I wanted to ask these questions and understand why it is we think this is the way the world is. But then I got the impression that they didn’t really like my questions all that much, so I got quieter. And when I get quiet, I get bored. Which led to me inventing this fear that the priest had, like, ‘holy eyes’ or something. And he would see a lightbulb above my head. All lit up if I cared 'enough' and turned off if I didn’t. I literally terrified myself into thinking he knew I wasn’t really getting with the program, and that I'd be, like, outed or something as a bad Catholic. And then I got out of it well enough. I was busy, it was a good excuse. But now, poof, Robin’s back in those pews, revisiting the idea that the old man in the front of the room can see her burnt-out lightbulb.“ Robin huffed at the end, turned to Nancy, and realized she did it again,“ Sorry, that was a lot. Again. I just mean, I don’t think I ever really did a really good job at it. The whole God thing.”

Nancy looked over at her for a moment, a warm smile playing on her lips, and she shrugged,” I would never call you burnt out. Maybe you were just too smart, too young. I mean, if I had believed in God before all of this? The Upside Down would’ve turned me off of the whole theory pretty fast. You just didn’t have to lose it. Since you weren’t clinging to it in the first place.”

“Maybe. A full-on religious crisis mighta really drove me bonkers after the meat monster.” Robin let out a little chuckle before bothering to ask,“ And how was your morning? At the RV?”

“Not very interesting. It looks pretty much exactly how we left it. A mess. But I got my stuff, and the boys got theirs. And Steve said he was going to stop by after a while to get his and yours?”

“Yeah, there’s a duffle bag in his closet with my name on it. Thought it might be a good idea to add the stuff from the RV as a change of clothes and turn it into a go-bag since we’re waiting for Vecna to come back.” Robin answered simply enough.

“A duffle bag of your stuff?” Nancy asked, voice hinting at suspicion.

“Yeah. For sleepovers.”

“Remind me again,” she glanced over at her,” You’ve been trying to convince me there’s nothing going on there, right?”

“Oh my god, are you back on that again?” she asked, at the same moment that Dustin decided to ditch the others for this conversation instead,“ That’s what I’ve been saying, Nance!”

“Ugh. Can’t a girl have a best friend without everyone making their own assumptions about it!” Robin groaned, rubbing her hands down her face.

“What’s wrong with him, Rob? He’s great!” Dustin argued.

Mike cringed and turned his nose up at the idea,“ No, he’s not. Steve’s sort of the worst.”

“He is not without flaws, Michael.” Dustin drew out his name in protest,” But he’s pretty good. Definitely way above average for guys in Hawkins, right? I mean, I can run a sales pitch on him better than I could for you. Lucas, back me up.”

“You can’t deny that he’s kind of a mess,” Erica threw in.

“Strike that from the record, your honor. That was not the witness I was addressing. I asked Lucas Sinclair to back me up.”

Lucas nodded along to the idea and leaned forward to speak into his hand like it was a microphone,“ This is Lucas Sinclair, and I am willing to go on the record that I like Steve Harrington. He’s a good guy and would make a fine boyfriend to any interested party. Especially, to one who was already in with his friends. As inappropriate as they may be for a boy his age. Thank you for the time.”

“See! So, what’s wrong with him, Robin? I promise I’ll make him fix it if you guys will give it a shot!” Dustin practically begged her.

“Don’t do that to her.” Mike tried to talk him down,” Robin’s making the right decision to ice him out.”

Robin turned around in her seat to look at the boys,“ There’s nothing wrong with him, and I’m not icing him out! I am just a disinterested party. He is my friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. We have a purely Platonic, capital ‘P’ Platonic, mind you, relationship. And it’s great, I love the guy.”

Dustin’s eyes widened hopefully, and he opened his mouth to start something when Robin threw up a silencing finger,“ In a friendly way! I love the guy in a friendly way. And he knows that and feels the exact same way about me! So, if you need to have a good cry because this relationship you’re rooting for doesn’t stand a chance, go for it. But you’ll need to accept it, sooner or later, so you can move on.”

Dustin silenced for a moment, and Robin almost believed he was going to drop it until he added,“ But what if I got him to shave his gross chest wilderness? I think I’m winning him over!”

“No!” she squealed,” That’s not going to change anything about us! Let. It. Go.

“But what if-”

“Zip. It. Henderson.”

Thankfully for everyone involved, that was the end of that conversation as Nancy pulled them up to Steve’s house.

“Behave,” She told them, voice firm.

Various versions of ‘We do!’ came from the back seat as they all unbuckled and opened their doors. It wasn’t long before they were inside with the other four. Jonathan told them about their call with Joyce. She was putting together bags for each of her kids and going by Argyle’s so his mom could pass along something to bring for him.

Apparently, Joyce was about as shocked as the rest of them that Argyle was sticking around for their mess. Yeah, he kind of got roped into it, but he didn’t really have to keep fighting their fight. He could go back to Lenora. Back to his life. Try to pretend like this week never happened to him. But he didn’t. And his mom was just as surprisingly okay with it. Perfectly fine with her kid hanging out in the Midwest with nearly no explanation. Sure, California gave the kids a two-week spring break versus Indiana’s one, so he wasn’t even cutting class yet, but still… It was strange. The only answer he gave was that he’s ‘got to see it through’, and his mom just seemed to trust him.

But at the end of the day, they’d have Joyce Byers back - and Murray Bauman - so they wouldn’t just be a band of kids running around on their own anymore.

And that was good news.

Lucas had picked up Max’s letters for El, Will, and Mike before he’d left home, so he handed them over. They all accepted the envelopes, but seemed to each have a different sense of what they were going to do with them. Mike looked at it like he almost didn’t believe she’d written him one. They always pushed each other’s buttons and said they couldn't stand being in the same room, but they cared about one another at the end of the day. Will was sad to be given it. The letter just showed him how truly scared she must’ve been. She thought she had to write them goodbyes because she thought she was dying. El, on the other hand, wanted to refuse the letter. Wanted to say she didn’t need it because she was going to get Max back, and whatever she wanted to tell her, it could happen then. She didn’t need a piece of paper with goodbyes. She needed to find Vecna and end him for good this time.

Which brought up the bad news. Or news that was bad-adjacent.

El couldn’t find Vecna.

She tried. Put on a blindfold and turned the tv to static, but she couldn’t. They worried for a minute that she was still too drained, but that wasn’t it. They had her check for Steve. And, sure enough, he was found just fine in a stiff hospital chair, humming along to a movie next to Eddie. And then Will said that he could tell that Venca was still out there, somewhere. He could feel just enough to know that. To know that he was hurt and small. He didn’t feel gone, but it didn’t feel like the times when he was already coming back. It was that much less, but still there.

And that fact made a certain kind of dread fall over the room. It’s hard to just sit there while there’s some unknowable doomsday on the horizon. Looming.

But they didn’t have anything they could do about it right then. So Robin took to wrestling through some of Steve’s tapes and to find the most heartwarming one to watch while they waited for Joyce to land.

And it was after a very long voting session that they were settling onto The Sound of Music. Mostly because it was really long and El liked musicals but had never seen that one. And then Robin shared that Steve called it an “Honorary Christmas Movie” because he always watches it every December, despite there being no real Christmas themes. They actually watched it together that past year. Just a few months ago, during one of their infamous sleepovers while snow settled over Hawkins. Then she added that he also calls  Mary Poppins  one… so maybe Steve just thinks Julie Andrews' singing is the only way to enjoy the holiday.

And it was at the mention of Mary Poppins that they switched their votes.  Mary Poppins  first and then The Sound of Music later. Mike crossed his arms and asked if they’d be tired of Julie by then, to which Robin said such talk was blasphemous and he needed more respect for such staples of American film.

So, now that they had plans for their evening made, Argyle and Nancy were set on getting everything ready for the taco night the Harrington House had agreed to. While Nancy didn’t really know what she was doing in the kitchen, she knew how to get people to work, and Argyle knew what they needed to do. So they teamed up and got them all assigned to different jobs in the kitchen to start getting everything prepped.

Time passed, and Steve was sent on his way out of the hospital. He made good on his promise and got to the RV before they handed it back over, and got a hold of the clothes he and Robin left behind. And Eddie’s vest. The denim one with the big backpiece, the patches and pins of bands Steve didn’t know anything about. It had been tossed in the passenger seat after Steve changed into his Upside Down attire. It was kind of gross now, all things considered. Sweat, grime, and blood all over; from when it was thrown at Steve in the wasteland.

It would be good of him to clean it before giving it back when Eddie woke up, but he’s not sure how he should do it. Would throwing it in the wash mess with all the stuff Eddie put on it? Or would it be rude to take the add-ons off first and risk messing up trying to put them all back on? Maybe just scrubbing it by hand in the sink or something would be the best way to deal with it, because just returning dirty, worn clothes couldn't possibly be the right choice. Maybe he’d ask Robin about it later. See if she had any good ideas.

That was just about the last thought Steve really had before he got back and was met with the strangest thing. His house. Full of the sound of voices and the smell of cooking.

Mike was dicing tomatoes and cutting lettuce, Jonathan was stirring ground beef while Argyle seasoned it, Lucas was shredding chicken, Dustin and Erica were plating different toppings, Will and El were setting the dining room table, which by the look of it, they also dusted off or wiped down, and Robin was washing all the dishes that came her way.

It was a sight to see his kitchen so busy.

The first time it’s ever really looked like that. So… homey.

“Now, this can’t be my house. None of the kids I know are this helpful,” he commented, dropping keys by the phone and heading for the stairs.

“We’re goddamn saints, you know!” Dustin called after him.

“Nah, can’t be. Wrong kids,” he answered back as he went to throw his and Robin’s dirty clothes from the RV in the washer, drop off Eddie’s vest on the chair in his room, and make sure his face at least looked like he’d cried less than two and a half times that day. When he returned to the kitchen, he slipped Robin’s beret over her head while her hands were busy in the soapy water.

“Thank you very much for returning this incredibly fashion-forward piece to me, good sir.” she tutted in a hoity-toity tone.

He nodded and jumped up to sit on the counter next to her,“ ’Course I would. But, for the record, couldn’t find your shirt, Rob.”

“What?” she asked as her hands stilled, setting down the plate she’d been scrubbing.

“Your shirt. Well, not the black undershirt. Got that one. But your, like,” Steve motioned around himself as he described it,” … tan button-up - that you never actually button up - with the black leaves, that you wore over the other shirt? Couldn’t find it.”

“How could you not find it?” she questioned.

“I don’t know, dude.” he shrugged to her and leaned back on his hands,” I checked the whole thing, wasn't there.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll double-check my stuff at home, but I’m telling you I didn’t grab it before we went back into the emergency room.”

“I’m not accusing you of that. Just saying, I swear I looked under and over every inch of that thing, Rob, but it wasn’t there-”

“Hey, hey, Harrington,” Argyle quipped in from where he was preheating the oven,” No distracting my staff. Suds up with her and get those dishes clean.”

“I got to work too?”

“Unless you want to have to wash up from prep along with all the serving dishes later tonight.”

Steve hung his head with a disappointed groan.

“Ándale, ándale, ándale, man!” Argyle snapped his fingers at him until he got back on the floor.

“Alright, geez,” he mumbled, rolling up his sleeves and taking his place next to Robin,” When did he go mad with power?”

Robin dropped her voice and whispered back,“ I think it was somewhere around the time when Nancy decided she needed someone who actually knew what they were doing in here. She gave him authority, and now he’s got a wicked taste for it.”

“You two talkin’ some shmack over there?” Argyle called back over to them, squinting his eyes with mistrust.

“Absolutely not. Not us. We’d never do that.” Steve promised while Robin tried to bite back giggles.

“You’re such a liar,” she smacked his arm.

Steve smiled to himself and bumped her hip with his,“ Maybe.”

Eventually, they had a whole spread ready. Beef and chicken were in the oven at a low temp to stay hot. There were about a dozen different ingredients in the fridge. The table was set with plates, glasses, a bag of chips waiting to be opened, and even some decorative table candles they dug out of a back closet. All that was left to do, was to wait for their company to join them.

So Nancy decided it was time to get to a bit of business.

She pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag and said,“ Alright, first thing first, we need everyone’s favorite songs. Don’t want to get caught like we have before, so we’ll make sure everyone’s got their own tape with them at all times, just in case shit hits the fan suddenly.”

“What kind of favorite are we talking about here?” Argyle asked,” Like all-time favorite? Favorite right now? Favorite for a reason or favorite just because?”

Robin started to explain,“ Doesn’t really matter what kind of favorite. And it doesn’t even really need to be a favorite-favorite if you can’t pick one. The important part is that it means something to you. The music is going to reach a part of your brain that Vecna can’t block you out of. So you’ll want one that’ll put you in a good mood, make you feel better, remind you of a better time, or - if worse comes to worst - show you why you want to live even if he tries to back you into a corner.”

“I’d recommend we all have a mix with a few of our favorites, to be safe. But we also need a list of everyone’s best guesses at their ‘savior song’. Just in case something happens and someone needs to play it for you,” Nancy added.

Argyle shrugged and then answered,“ Then it's ‘Break My Stride’ for me. Can’t sing along to that song and not smile, you know?”

“Alright,” Nancy confirmed and jotted it down on the paper.

Jonathan gave his next,“ ’Should I Stay or Should I Go’. The Clash.”

But then Argyle turned to him and began to ask,” You sure, buddy? Cuz you’ve been listening to a lot of Joy Division. You know? ‘Love Will Tea-’”

“You’ve been listening to a lot of ‘Pass the Dutchie’. Don’t see me refusing your answer."

“Alright. Just checking.”

Nancy looked to the next one,“ Steve?”

There was a barely noticeable pause before he told her,“ ’Everybody Wants to Rule The World’. Tears for Fears."

But just as Nancy was starting to write it down, Robin jumped in,” No, it’s not.”

Steve looked back at her - eyes just like the ones she pointed at him when he met Vickie for the firm time - and he muttered back,” Yes. It is.”

”What is it with you boys and lying about music? This is serious.” she pushed.

”I love that song,” he argued.

”Yeah. I mean, I’d bet it’s probably in your top five,” Robin gave him,” But it is not your favorite, that one I know for sure.”

“What’s the real answer, Steve?” Nancy asked.

Steve kept his eyes locked on Robin as he claimed,“ ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen.”

Robin narrowed hers in response,“ Also not it. But you’re getting warmer."

"Steve, what about 'friends don't lie'?" Dustin questioned him from the side.

"That's your thing with the other runts. I'm not a part of it."

Robin raised a brow and threatened," Well? You going to say what it really is, or am I?”

”Shut up, Robin.” he warned.

“I’ll say it if I have to, bud. We’re talking about saving your life here.”

“I’ll say yours.” Steve countered, using the only real leverage he could think of at the moment.

“It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ by Abba. Want me to share why, too? Sure. It's because it’s a super fun song, and I’ve been listening to it since I was like ten waiting impatiently to turn seventeen. And, now that I finally am, I’ve been playing it almost non-stop. Easy.” Robin answered without hesitation,“ So, you going to be honest or…?”

“Robin…”

”It’s ‘Holding Out for a Hero’,” she disclosed,” Bonnie Tyler.”

And all eyes were on Steve, wide in surprise as he tried to deny it,” She’s lying-”

”Am I? Because you have both the Footloose soundtrack and her single on vinyl. And, remind me again, how many times have you put it on a mixtape? Because, I know you have it on one you keep in your room and on another one in your car, but I feel like there were more, right?”

”That’s not true.”

”Steve,” Dustin cooed to him,” You have that much Bonnie in your room, right now?”

“There’s way more Bonnie than that, bud.” Robin shifted.

And Steve knew that look in Dustin’s eye, the sparkle gleaming with mischief, knew that meant the kid was going to collect the evidence of Robin’s testimony,” Henderson, I swear to God-”

”Hold him down, Lucas!” Dustin yelled as he got to his feet and started going up the stairs to Steve’s bedroom.

And Lucas did as he was asked. He lunged to tackle Steve into the couch while Mike piled on top to help him. Then there were Will and El and Erica and - seriously? How is it fair for five of these little assholes to pin him down like this when all he wants to do is protect his honor?

“Henderson, I’m going to kill you!” he called from the living room as he writhed around, trying to get out from under his captors.

And then Dustin was posed at the bottom of the stairs, the seven-inch disc displayed proudly in his hands,” Bonnie Tyler. ‘Holding Out for a Hero’. And it was the very first song on the mix I found. And I spotted her whole Faster Than the Speed of Night album. Wow, Steve.”

The man went slack under the weight of the other kids now that he’d been caught red-handed,” It’s a good song, man… Bonnie’s talented, alright…”

“Wasn’t gonna argue with you on that, Steve. You’re the one who made a big fuss about it.” Robin said, poking his burning cheek as the children started clambering off him.

“Shut up. Is it someone else’s turn yet?” he grumbled and swatted away her hand,” Why don’t you go, Dustin?”

“It's ’NeverEnding Story’. Pretty sure we all could’ve guessed that - except for the new guy - since it’s Suzie and me’s song.”

Steve rolled his eyes,“ Whatever,” while Nancy moved on.

“Mike? No, don’t tell me, it’s one of the new rock ones you’re borrowing from your nerd superstar. Right?”

Mike shot her a sharp expression, “ ‘Highway to Hell’ off of the AC/DC tape.”

“And is that actually your favorite or just the loudest, coolest sounding one you could think of right now?” she asked him, eyebrows raised like she didn’t trust him.

"It’s the truth," he asserted before looking over at Steve and practically sneering,” Because I'm actually secure in my music taste.”

“I told you to behave.” Nancy quickly scolded,” Alright, El?”

She nodded and told her,“ ‘Angel’ by Madonna.”

She didn’t say why. But it was because she could still hear Max’s voice sing alongside Madonna from their sleepover last year. And she’d needed to cling to that when she was all the way in California, feeling so alone. But she especially needed to cling to it now. It was what she was fighting for. Not just herself, or the world, she was fighting to get Max back.

“And Will?”

Will fidgeted for a second before telling her,“ ‘Boy’s Don’t Cry’ by The Cure,” really hoping nobody’s listened to it nearly as much as he had. He got why Steve had been so hesitant to admit his favorite. It felt so… exposing when the song hit emotionally close to home.

But Nancy didn’t spare another thought,“ Lucas?”

“Uh, yeah, ’Only You’ by Yazoo,” he answered quickly. He had a lot of songs he really liked. Even had more than a few that made him think about Max. But ‘Only You’ was the one he’d been caught on the most recently.

“Erica?”

“Katrina & The Waves’ ‘Walkin’ on Sunshine’.”

Her answer might’ve been a bit more surface level like Argyle’s. It was a fun, bopping song she liked to sing along to. Not everything needed to be some big piece on a person’s emotional state. Sometimes songs are just songs.

Nancy nodded and finished writing it down,“ And, I guess mine’s ‘Take My Breath Away’ by Berlin. So with that, we should all be set, just in case. Tomorrow we can start shopping for anything that we need, and we can make sure we’re ready for whatever happens from this point further.”

They all agreed on the plan and turned on the tv, popping in the Mary Poppins VHS while Steve moaned about Robin just giving away all of his carefully guarded secrets. But at the end of the day, Mary Poppins might just be his favorite movie, so he doesn’t complain much when it starts up.

Robin had asked him about it once. About why he loved this one specifically so much. In all honesty, he always kind of wished for a nanny like her. Miss Mary Poppins. 'Practically perfect in every way'. A woman who just showed up one day and never let Mr. Banks tell her off from trying to raise the kids right. Insisted on making sure they had fun and got to decide that they didn’t care about their father’s job. Fuck investments, it was better to feed the birds. And, in the end, it was because of Mary Poppins being in their lives that he looked at his kids, actually looked at them, and decided to take them kite-flying in the park.

Yeah, he used to dream about someone being able to make his dad do something like that.

And he wasn’t really mad that Robin spilled the beans on his secret Christmas tradition. He’s come to notice that Robin doesn’t just talk a lot in general, she talks a lot about stuff she likes. Steve being something she likes makes him feel like a pretty good friend. Which matters a lot to him, whether or not he’ll say so that often.

He also knows that Robin isn’t casually throwing around the real sensitive stuff. She doesn’t talk to the others about the stuff he tells her late at night when it’s like they’ve got the only light left on in the world. Doesn’t tell people why he likes Mary Poppins and hates answering the home phone. She keeps those conversations to herself. Tucked safely behind her ribs and right next to her heart.

But she’s sharing the little ones. Passing out small pieces of him. Because he needs to let people back in again, and she knows it.

He closed himself off a bit too much after Nancy. At least from people his own age. It was easier with the kids because they needed him. But Steve got beaten, burned, and left behind his senior year in a lot of different ways. He hasn’t been letting himself be vulnerable with people he used to consider his peers.

So Robin helps out. Blabs just enough that he has to be flexible. To bring everyone else just a little closer to knowing Steve Harrington.

And Steve knows she’s doing it. And he’s grateful because she makes it so much easier.

Just about an hour into the movie, though, the home phone started ringing. It was probably Joyce, but just in case it was his parents again, Steve ran to get it while the others kept watching.

Hoping it was Joyce made it easier to pick up.

“Steve Harrington,” he greeted.

“Hi, Steve! It’s Joyce,” her voice answered,” We just landed in Madison and are about to head on over to baggage claim. We’ve got quite a few suitcases, so if you kids send over our ride now, they might still get here before we’re free.”

“Sounds good. Your kids are finishing a movie, but I imagine they’ll be racing to meet you there within the minute anyway. You and Murray looking forward to being squished in the back seat around one of ‘em?” he wondered with a light chuckle.

“Yeah- about that… We will need three seats.”

“You and Murray been eating that much since last summer?” he asked.

“No, no. Just um- can’t really say why over the phone, but we’ll need plenty of room.”

Which certainly added to that suspicion Steve’s been harboring since her first call,“ Okay? I’ll let ‘em know and they’ll be on the way.”

“Alright, see you all in a bit. You kids better be excited, because we do kinda have a surprise.”

“A surprise? Don’t you think we’ve had enough of those?”

“Just trust me. It’s a good one.”

“Alright, Joyce. We’ll see about that.”

Nancy had already said she’d give Jonathan the keys to the station wagon since it’d have the most space for everything. So, by the time Steve was hanging up the phone, all three Byers kids were getting ready to put on shoes and head out the door.

“They’re all good?” Jonathan asked him.

“Yeah, yeah, they got to Madison just fine. Uh- but your mom said they’d need three seats.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. Didn’t really explain, but said there was some surprise and they’d need the room.”

“Okay? Um…” Jonathan looked between Will and El. If he could just send the two of them to see their mom first, he would. But he had to drive.

“You two go,” El said quickly.

“El-” Will tried to argue with her.

“No. It’s okay. I want to finish the movie. Go on and I’ll hug Ms. Joyce when you get back.”

“Okay. We’ll be back soon. Like, an hour, tops.” Will promised her.

“Sounds good.” she squeezed his hand and returned to the living room, jumping back into the couch right next to Robin.

Steve handed Jonathan one of the walkies and a spare house key,” Call us if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Let’s get going,” Jonathan clapped Will on the shoulders and led them through the door.

And then the brothers found themselves alone together for the first time in a while. For the first time since they talked in that pizza shop about being there for each other. And Will… ever since then, he’s started wondering if he should keep an eye out for a chance to… talk about something else. Something important.

“So, your favorite song’s still 'Should I Stay or Should I Go'?” he started, feeling like he needed to warm up the conversation somehow.

“Well,” Jonathan tossed the comment around a beat before deciding,” Not exactly ‘still’. It was my favorite a few years ago, back when I played it for you that one time. And then I liked other stuff, had other favorites. But, uh, I guess ever since - you know - everything happened, it just makes me think about you. About getting you back. So I’m pretty grateful for it.”

“Oh.” Will nodded understandingly, but his voice was a little gone. Like his head was off somewhere else as he glanced out the window to the dark city of Hawkins flying by.

“You not all that into it anymore?” the older brother guessed, sparing a glance at him.

“No.” Will answered honestly, before realizing that was kind of harsh to say about his brother’s favorite song, and backtracked to explain,“ I mean, I liked it too. For a while. Made me think about you, too. But, uh, can’t really listen to it much now without thinking about… almost not coming back. Being trapped under him and barely able to move my fingers, hearing the phone ring, and knowing I put you in danger by being… so… yeah, it's not really my favorite anymore. Sorry.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” Jonathan corrected,” You’re growing up. Your tastes would change even without something like that happening. And I’m not gonna hold a grudge over a song just cause I assumed you liked it still. It’s all good.”

“Yeah. Of course.” he gave a weak laugh to himself and looked down at his hands in his lap.

A silence came up between them while Cyndi Lauper sang through the radio. 'Time After Time'. The song that was playing at the Snow Dance while Will danced with a girl for the first time. When he started becoming sure about something. He picked at the skin around his nails. Worrying himself tense about how exactly he was supposed to go about… what he wanted to go about.

“Jonathan?” he finally asked.

“Yeah?”

“What if…” he bit his lip for a second,” you assumed other things wrong about me?”

And Jonathan could hear the tone in it. Knew that he needed to be serious and careful with exactly what he said. Because he didn’t want to scare Will off. Never wanted Will to be scared to tell him anything, especially the kind of thing he was expecting.

He needed to make sure his little brother knew that Jonathan would be on his side no matter what.

“Then, I guess, I’d just need to figure out I was wrong. And after I knew better, I’d just be happy you shared the news with me.”

“Even if it was something really big. Even if it was bad or- or wrong?” his voice cracked while he kept his vision trained on his fingers. Squeezing them together and doing everything in his power to not look at Jonathan. Because he was terrified… just in case. And then Jonathan’s hand snuck into his gaze anyway. Letting go of the wheel to reach over and wrap his hand around Will’s.

“There could never be anything wrong with you.”

And Jonathan said it like it was the only thing he’d ever been so sure about in his life.

"You’re my brother. No matter what, I’m going to be right here for you. Even if it’s something big. Even if… if it’s something that some people might think is wrong. I wouldn’t think that,” and then Jonathan turned to look at Will for a moment, his brother already glimpsing at him with misty eyes,” And the two of us? We’d be okay.”

Will dared to put Jonathan’s hand between his. He was so scared to believe it. Scared to break Jonathan’s love for him. Scared to tell him something that would make him recoil in disgust and never look at him the same way.

“We would?” he asked, begging for a sign to stop if he was going to ruin them.

Jonathan had to return his eyes to the road, but he said, just as surely,“ Yeah, we would. I promise.”

And, as scared as he was to trust him, Will found it in himself to ask it anyway,” Even if- even if I…” the tear fell before he finished,”… liked boys?”

But Jonathan didn’t pull his hand away. Didn’t recoil from him. Didn’t even hesitate as he looked back over - with the same loving eyes he always held for his brother - and he simply swore to him,“ Absolutely.”

And a shaking smile opened up across Will’s face, his eyebrows creasing together with hope as more tears began to trail down his cheek, and he squeaked out,“ Yeah?”

“Yes.” Jonathan turned back to look at him and squeezed his hand,” I love you, Will. And if you’re gay, then I love that about you.”

“Okay,” Will nodded, seemly to finally really believe that it was happening. He told someone, and it didn’t break everything. He wiped at his eyes as Jonathan continued.

“And if anything ever happens. If someone ever gives you shit about it, or even if you want to talk about guys or something, you can always come to me about it. You don’t have to keep me out of this part of your life because some idiots are assholes about this kind of stuff.”

“Okay,” he said again, laughing a little at the thought of running to his brother about crushes on boys. But he could really see it. His amazing brother, who just kept lifting all this weight off his shoulders, wanted to hear about his little love life. Assuring him over and over again with every word that it was real.

“You know I’m going to hug you ridiculously tight when I park this car, right?”

Will shook his head out, hoping all his crying was over with,“ Was kinda hoping you would.”

“Good.” he smiled, regretfully having to take his hand back for the big turn on the highway.

Then Will added,“ Can we not… tell anyone else, though? Not yet?”

“Of course. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. And I won’t, for that matter. But, for the record, I’m pretty sure everyone would be cool with it if you did. I think you picked a pretty good batch of friends.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Thank you. For telling me. I really am glad I get to know you a little better now. You know you’re my favorite person.”

“Stooop,” Will groaned and turned over in the seat to look back out the window with a weak laugh, wiping furiously at his eyes again,” I don’t want mom to ask why I’m crying. She’s gonna have a heart attack.”

“Fine. I’m still going to give you that hug, though. If you end up a snotty mess, that’s on you.”

Will huffed and rolled his eyes,“ Deal.”

Will changed the radio station and turned up the music, now with that heavy secret no longer his alone to carry, and ‘Don’t You (Forget About Me)’ was playing at just that moment. So they let the Simple Minds take them away as they continued toward Madison. Where Jonathan indeed pulled his younger brother into his arms and held him there with everything he had until Will reminded them that they should probably head in to help the grown-ups load up the car.

And when they found their mom at the baggage claim... When they saw her with not only Murray at her side but Jim Hopper on the other… it was beyond anything they could’ve possibly expected to see.

Joyce ran over to them and wrapped her boys in an embrace while Will commented over her shoulder,” Some trip to Alaska.”

“Yeah. It really was. That’s the surprise, which we can explain more about later, but are you both alright? Is El?” she worried over her boys, just as anyone could’ve guessed she’d do. Wiping hair out of their faces so she could look them over herself.

“We’re okay.” Jonathan excused,” But how- how is he-?”

“It’s a long story. One we couldn’t say over the phone given how many times they’ve been bugged, and since- well, Doctor Owens is... who even knows anymore. We wanted to tell you, but-”

“It’s okay. And we have a walkie in the car, so we can let them know on the way back. I mean- El’s going to be- This is just… a really good surprise for her right now.” Will smiled just imagining giving El her dad back.

“Is that everything?” Jonathan asked, eyes wide at the six bags piled up beside Jim, impatiently tapping his foot.

“There’s one more.” Murray answered,” And since we’re all waiting, would anyone care to explain why there was an emergency while we ran to pick up a lost American hero?”

“That’s also a long story.”

“Great. Just love those. Don’t you just love long, complicated stories about life-or-death emergencies, Jim?” Murray asked him as he propped an elbow on Hop’s shoulder and leaned over on him. The man looked tired, annoyed, just overall pretty bothered by all the time he’s spent cramped between Murray and Yuri in the helicopter flight over. And all the hours since when they've been so busy he hasn’t gotten any real peace.

He was irritated and ready to be somewhere with a bed that he can call home for the night, and Murray’s attitude wasn’t helping,” What I would love, would be a nap, a pair of earplugs, or to get going. So can we please get going?”

“Patience. We’re waiting on your daughter’s bag, after all. Honestly, if I knew you’d be this crabby when we brought you back home, I wouldn’t have gone with Joyce to get you.” Murray shook his head next to him.

“I’m loading the car,” he grumbled as he picked up his and Joyce’s bags from the mound.

“So, he hasn’t changed much,” Jonathan commented, stepping forward to grab the handle of his suitcase while Will did the same.

“No, he hasn’t,” his mother agreed with him.

“But he does look weird now,” Will mentioned,” What’s up with that?”

“It’s ‘cause he’s all skinny.” the other brother quipped.

“Okay, be nice. Things were a little crazy in ‘Alaska’, but-” Joyce’s eyes widened and she pointed at the conveyor belt,” Oh! Murray! There’s her suitcase!”

He quickly grabbed it and handed it over to her.

“Okay, now we can go,” she said as she took the bag and they all started heading out the doors,” Anyway, you think it’s not a good look for him?”

“No. It’s weird. Hop isn’t supposed to be skinny.” Will insisted.

“Well, I imagine we can fatten him back up now that we have him home again. Speaking of, none of us have eaten much all day. What’re the plans for dinner?”

“There’s a make-your-own-taco buffet thing waiting at Steve’s house,” Jonathan answered as they all passed their bags to Jim to pack in the back.

“Oh, thank god,” Hopper commented as he slammed the rear door of the station wagon. It might not be Enzo’s, but it was going to be the best meal he’s had in nearly a year. He started rounding for the driver’s seat and clapped his hands to get everyone to hurry up,“ Come on people, let’s go!”

“Hop. Breathe a second, we’ll be there in like thirty minutes.” Joyce tried to assure him, taking to the passenger seat herself while Murray and the boys tucked themselves in the back.

“Not even. I’m driving, and I’m speeding, and if anyone has a problem with it, or wants to pull me over, they’ll have to t-bone me,” he said as he turned the key.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what Nancy would like to hear you say while we borrow her car. Everyone’s buckled in, right?” she turned around to check.

“They better be.” He shot back as he peeled out of the airport parking lot,” And Nancy doesn’t have to know what I say about the only set of wheels I have to get me to my kid.”

They bickered a little bit more as the car sped down the road back home. But there was a certain… air about the way they were doing it. There was an unspoken fondness in it.

Will leaned over to Jonathan and whispered,“ Am I crazy, or is there something going on there?”

“I think there might be,” he answered.

“Oh, there absolutely is,” Murray added with a sure nod.

“Some business conference.” Will muttered to himself, impressed,” Go, Mom.”

[bamboozled-distress]

The urge to draw my blorbo everytime i read a fic that makes them suffer is SO strong

[rainybraindays]

The fact that Genevieve and Ethan Carter can't even be together in death rips my fucking heart out. And its because he wanted to save her!! These two kept dooming themselves to save the other, and now they're apart forever!! Genevieves left wandering and depressed, while hes rotting in that fucking moat and I'm so fucking sad about it. They deserve better

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

can you please do a face riding fic with logan and fem reader???

say less🫡

riding logans face - logan howlett x fem!reader

NSFW! MDNI!

"C'mere baby," beckoned Logan. "I wanna taste you."

The huskiness of his voice made your insides burn with desire for him. You didn't wait a single second crawling over the bed to where he was laying, propped up with his back against the wall. You situated yourself beside him and slowly spread your legs open, expecting him to move and go down on you, but he didn't.

"Logan?," you questioned, shooting him a confused look. Did he not just ask to give you head?

There was no response as you watched him slide down against the pillows until he was laid almost flat, head slightly angled against the pillow behind him. With two fingers, he brought them to his chin and tapped. He was motioning you to sit on his face. Your mouth dropped. "Logan, I don't know about that."

"What'ya worried about Bub?"

"I mean," you stammered, "I don't wanna like- suffocate you."

The broody man rolled his eyes at you. "Do I look like I give a fuck?" He continued before you could protest again. "Now, stop being stubborn and sit on my face."

Hell, you couldn't argue with that.

You sat up and swung one leg over the side of his face, hovering above him. Only a couple of inches separated the two of you. A growl rose in his throat. "I told you to sit on my face doll." There was an undertone of annoyance in his voice. He didn't like to ask twice. "Let me help you out." With this, he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you down on him. He buried his nose in your cunt, taking a long inhale of your scent. A groan left his lips and vibrated against your core.

You moaned at this sudden contact and lost complete control of yourself. Your full weight was sat on him as he began working at your clit. The lap of his tongue against your clit at this angle felt different and heavenly. You pressed your hands against the wall in front of you above the bed frame for stability.

"I wanna be fucking buried in this pussy," Logan growled between swipes of your pussy.

His tongue found your entrance and forced itself in, lapping at your walls. He ate you like he was starved and you were his last meal. As his tongue slid out, he flattened it and licked a slow stripe back up to your throbbing clit. You felt him start flicking it back and forth against it horizontally and you cried out his name. "Fuck Logan, I'm gonna cum."

Still buried in your pussy, he encouraged you towards your release. "Do it baby, cum on my fucking face."

You let yourself unravel on top of him, screaming his name. He continued with his tongue against your clit until you started to fall from your climax, in which he responded by nuzzling his face back and forth against your pussy, covering himself in your cum. You shook as you finally slid down, laying on top of him.

"Holy shit," you sighed with disbelief. "That was fucking amazing."

You glanced up at him to see his face and beard glistening with the remnants of you. "You look like a mess."

He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring every last bit of your taste. "Now don't you ever doubt me again, princess."

[shushmal]

okay but a like post-series fic i want that's like: steve harrington being the only man left in hawkins fighting monsters

and not like a 'everyone died, last man standing' way but just. they beat it back, the story ends, nice little tie-up and neatly concluded, eleven loses her powers because their world is completely cut from the other. and life goes on. eddie (yes, eddie lives au don't fight me) goes off with his band, robin-nancy-jargyle off to separate cities for college. the kids go to high school, graduate high school, and scatter across the country. joyce and hop buy a beach house far-far-far away from goddamn hawkins indiana.

steve though. steve stays. he does it too without comment, takes all their calls telling him all these amazing things. the years pass. the calls are fewer and far between. he's mostly in contact with only dustin and robin. except robin's out of country doing some crazy temp job in some remote country, she never catches him at home right now so just leaves him messages. and it takes a couple of weeks for dustin to realize he hasn't gotten steve on the phone.

frantically he calls around "have you heard from steve???" except the most people talk to steve anymore is like phone calls during holidays and holy shit what could have happened??

and what if it's back?

cue everyone who can in that moment, rushing back. eddie hopping on a flight from fucking london direct to indianapolis somehow, heart in his throat. he manages to meet hopper in the airport and they pick up max and dustin at the bus station.

they get to hawkins that is even more different that what they left. a smaller town, a town that shuts down completely when the sun sets. it's creepy and deserted.

except for the fucking upside down monsters of course.

and they're in their stupid little rental in front of this demogorgon and they're screaming but then the thing just goes splat on the concrete and steve fucking harrington is blinking owlishly at them.

"Oh, hey guys!" he calls jogging up to the driver's side window. "Wow, what brought you back down this way? You should have told me, I would have told you about the curfew!"

turns out steve just forgot to pay his phone bill that month, didn't even realize he was missing calls and he's been fighting monsters the entire time because actually they WEREN'T cut off from the upside down at all and he's just been casually fighting monsters for the remaining hawkins residence—the whole town knows now and steve's the guy you call when you have a monster problem

sidebar: WAYNE still lives in hawkins, and he and steve are best friends, eddie munson you are gonna LOSE YOUR MIND

[fxllfaiiry]

❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.

★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.

★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet

Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.

You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 

He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 

Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 

“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 

“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 

“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 

“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully

“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 

“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 

He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.

He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.

He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 

Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 

He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.

Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 

In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.

He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.

But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 

He slept like a baby that night. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 

“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 

He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  

Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 

“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 

“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”

“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 

“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”

“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 

You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.

“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 

“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 

“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 

You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  

“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 

You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 

Positive. You were pregnant. 

“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 

“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 

“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 

“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 

“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 

“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 

“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.

[hannie-dul-set]

the breakup soup — [y.jh].

SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, tiny angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, only one bed inn room, a bunch of nosy men. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, many many dumb inappropriate jokes (divorce, fucking, diarrhea, to name a few), parliamentary procedures jargon. WORD COUNT. 15k.

NOTE. after six, seven months, this this is finally out of hell (my gdocs). the soup is overcooked. holy shit. everything is written in the pov of a certain teener (excluding jeonghan and the mc. this fic is about them but no, you do not have access to their thoughts). this is super duper fun to write and i hope it’s fun to read as well HHAHAHAHA. please let me know what you think! enjoy!

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.” 

Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.

“Public Information Officer 1?”

“Present and voting.”

“PIO 2?

“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”

“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”

“Prese—”

“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”

“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?” 

Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

“Present and voting.”

Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page. 

It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.

“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.

Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you. 

Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”

No answer. You scoff.

“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?” 

Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.

“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.

“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”

“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”

The office door swings open. 

“Sorry, I’m late!”

And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”

“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”

Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.

“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”

He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.

Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”

You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”

Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty to start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”

You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”

A very bad feeling.

“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”

“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.” 

Your face stiffens.

Jeonghan just cut you off. 

Shit, he just cut you off. 

He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”

“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”

Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.

“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, you called him by his first name. 

You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”

Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”

Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”

He doesn’t get paid for this at all.

“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone. 

“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”

Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.

“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”

“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”

This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.

“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?

“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”

What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?

“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”

Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.

“Did you just swear at me?”

Nevermind.

There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”

Well shit.

This meeting is done for.

Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.

“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”

“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan. 

“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”

“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”

“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”

“Great!”

“Great.”

“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”

“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”

“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”

Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.

“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”

Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.

Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in. 

“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”

He groans.

Is it too late to file a resignation?

*‎

The following week has been nothing less than hell for SVT (Seungcheol has yet to change to the org name. He’s getting there. Slowly. Fuck university bureaucracies). The Orye is fast approaching, so there are still a lot of matters to be settled— printing documents, processing permits, making calls. The venue dispute is yet to be settled. Mr. Chair instructed a team to check out the mountain and sea accommodations you and Jeonghan forwarded within the weekend to get a better feel of both options.

There’s still so much work, which honestly doesn’t pose a problem with Boo Seungkwan, one of the org’s information officers. He’s used to it, being a member of SVT since his freshman year and all. This workload is nothing to SVT. Nothing to you.

It’s almost like you’re a machine. Printing documents? You’re a one-woman printing shop. Processing permits? You’ve befriended all the office heads and one word from you will get the event approved. It’s basic shit. Completely rudimentary. Seungkwan has always been at awe with how you operate. But right now, the problem is not the work. 

It’s the work environment that’s the problem.

“Can someone pass me the stapler?”

Your voice cracks into the tense silence in the office like a cold blade, causing Seungkwan to flinch and look up from his paperwork. The whirring of the printer fills in the void left behind by your voice, with Chan carefully organizing the freshly printed pages with tight lips. You’re met with no response. He locks eyes with Joshua. The stapler is beside Jeonghan, who’s running through the program for the event. They share a look of dread.

“Where is the stapler?” You look up from the table. The clear stiffening of your face upon noticing where the damned thing is forces knots into Seungkwan’s temples. Oh god. Here we go. “Nevermind.”

The stupid stapler skids across the table. It’s been transported from one end to your end. Jeonghan’s eyes are glued to his laptop when he slides it down. Jun is nervously hovering behind him. Seungkwan wants to throw up.

“Jun,” Jeonghan calls out. “How many steps does it take for you to get from one end of the meeting table to the other?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Can you try walking from here to the other end of the table?”

Jun is sweating. He hesitantly nods and slowly creaks away from his spot behind Jeonghan, cautious steps towards your end of the table. Three steps. All eyes are on him. Five steps. Seungkwan is not religious but he’s making the sign of the cross. Seven steps. 

“Wow. Ten steps is easier and faster than I thought! Anyway, you can come back now, Jun. I have some questions regarding—”

Swoosh!

Something rockets through the air, missing Jeonghan’s face by a mere inch from its trajectory. Holy shit. It hits the wall behind Jeonghan and crashes into the floor. “My bad,” you announce. “I wondered how quick it’d be if I threw something from here to there. It’s definitely faster than just walking.”

Assault. That must be assault. This is insane. This is getting out of hand. Seungkwan can’t deal with this shit anymore.

“I can’t fucking deal with this shit anymore!”

As he says, the moment you and Jeonghan leave the office to attend your respective classes. Jun takes a hefty intake of air and everyone relaxes almost immediately. “Seriously. Why should we suffer because they can’t hold their relationship together?!” he fumes. “If they wanted to break up, they could’ve done it in private. I’m sick and tired of walking on pins and needles whenever both of them are around!”

Murmurs of agreement break out. If their Chair was here, they would’ve been scolded. Thank fucking god he’s at the admin office processing their name change. “This reminds me of the time my parents got divorced,” Soonyoung offhandedly mentions while fiddling through their budget plan.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him. “Wasn’t that also the time you started perceiving yourself as a tiger as a coping mechanism?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus christ.”

“I agree with Seungkwan,” Minghao announces. He had just finished sweeping up the shattered stapler from the ground. “I can’t keep up with them anymore. Whenever I’m with our VCE I have to talk shit about the other. Why don’t we just lock them up in a closet so they can fuck and make up?”

A grimace creeps into Chan’s face. “I abhor the image you’ve just supplanted into my mind.”

Minghao furrows his brows. “Who told you to imagine them having sex in our dirty storage closet? Weirdo.” Chan is unable to say anything back. “Anyway, how do we fix this? I have to meet with Jeonghan hyung for dinner and I’m running out of bad things to say about his ex-girlfriend.”

“I thought the plan was to lock them up in the closet?” Seokmin tries to clarify. They’re all actually considering it. Seungkwan is sure they have a death wish.

“You guys can’t be serious. Didn’t you see Vice Chair’s face when hyung walked into the room earlier? She looked like she was considering murder, I had the fucking chills. We are not locking them in a closet unless you all want it to end with a dead body in our office.” Seungkwan pauses. “Thirteen. Thirteen dead bodies if she finds out we orchestrated it.”

“Then what should we do?” Vernon asks. “Get one of them to resign?”

“No!” Soonyoung interjects. “I can’t deal with another divorce!”

Jihoon’s face contorts. “They aren’t your parents. You didn’t even know they were together until they broke up.”

“Still,” Seokmin joins in. “I don’t want any of them to leave SVT.”

Jun presses his lips together. “I think I saw her drafting a resignation letter earlier.”

There is silence. Then the dawning of realization. Then chaos erupts.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no way.”

“We can’t let that happen!”

“Let’s burn her letter before she can submit it!”

“Nobody let her near the office!”

They’re all behaving like idiots, but Seungkwan has to agree. There is without a doubt that even though your breakup has recently put the organization into an uncomfortably tight spot— SVT would be done for if either of you leave. Seungcheol hyung can’t shoulder everything by himself. The both of you are the bedrock of SVT’s internal and external affairs respectively. Resignation is out of the question. 

“Heh. You’re all overlooking something.”

It’s a new voice. Seungkwan wondered when this fucker would speak up, and he’s making his entrance in a gratingly obnoxious way.

Mingyu is sitting on Seungcheol’s swivel chair in the latter’s absence. He slowly spins it around, facing the rest of the members with the pads of his fingers pressed together. “To fix a problem, we should find out the root cause first.” Seungkwan wants to hit him, but Mingyu looks like he’s onto something. “Nobody’s resigning. I have a plan.”

*‎

Jihoon didn’t want to have anything to do with this.

It’s not his business whoever from his orgmates are fucking around or have completely fucked their relationship. It’s not his business whether or not you and Jeonghan have the chance to get back together again.

“If your previous supplier didn’t scam us last summer, we wouldn’t even be out here right now.”

Yet that is exactly what he’s been tasked to do— to dig his nose into your business, on a hot day, while having to canvass printing shops in the district. But finding a replacement supplier for your org shirts is the least of his concerns at the moment because—

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: any update??? have you gotten through her yet?????]

How the hell is he supposed to fish out any information from you about your relationship with Jeonghan?!

“But these rates are seriously unreasonable. I’ll put this one on the table,” you say, ticking off a box from your checklist and Jihoon is sweating bullets. “What do you think, Hoon?”

Sure, you two work pretty well together and you praise his competence any single time you get the chance, but that’s the problem. You aren’t close. Your relationship is strictly professional. Hell, your text convo is nothing but org-related and Jihoon doesn’t fucking understand why he has to be the one doing this job when he can give less than two shits about the situation. 

“Let’s check out the next place on the list first,” he replies. “I think the quality for this one is still better than the previous.

Dealing with someone else’s relationship problems wasn’t part of the job description when he got elected as treasurer. He’s got his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.

“Alright,” you reply with a deep exhale. It’s hot, and you’re getting tired. He’s also getting tired. Can’t you all just go home? “We’ll take a break first. Let’s continue after getting a drink, but where’s Mingyu? Did he get diarrhea or something?”

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: hyung status report plz.] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Hoshi: wow we sound like actual secret agents.]

Jihoon feels his head starting to hurt. “I’ll text him.”

“Thanks.”

Mingyu isn’t coming back. Not until Jihoon manages to get something out of you. According to Jun, you’ve branded him as ‘Jeonghan-allied’ (whatever the fuck that means), so there’s no way you’d be talking if that street lamp is hanging around. “They went to the same high school! I can’t trust bastards from Hyangnam anymore,” Jun quoted from you personally, and they all started wondering what your conjectured alignment for each of them is. 

However, Mingyu is functionally obligated to tag along with your canvassing venture today because he’s SVT’s business manager and Jihoon has all your org money. You’re here because you can’t stay put unless you’re directly involved in the task. Mingyu asked permission to go to the bathroom earlier to give his comrade an opportunity. That was forty-five minutes ago. Jihoon still hasn’t gotten anything from you.

“It’s an emergency, he says. A big one. Gigantic.” Mingyu never said that. Jihoon’s phone is a black screen. “Public toilets aren’t trustworthy. He went to his apartment. He told us to continue without him.”

You grimace with the click of your tongue. “Gross. Those god damned Hyangnam bastards. Let’s go. I need something cold.”

Time is ticking, his phone keeps on buzzing, and Jihoon grows steadily more restless by the minute. You two finish ordering and pay for your two lemonades with SVT money. “It’s the least this damn org can do for us,” you say. He fears you might actually resign, and it doesn’t do his ever escalating nerves a favor. How does he do it? How does he bring up Yoon Jeonghan without invoking your fury?

“Jihoon,” you call out, and he flinches. “What’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out since this morning.”

You’re both sitting on the nice leather seats of the air-conditioned cafe. Being out of the heat seems to have bettered your mood. Maybe he can wiggle something out while you’re pacified by the lemonade and cool air.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. His knees are shaking. Shit. This is harder than processing your cash advance for the fucking orientation. He needs to ease it in. To bring it up discreetly. “I never really suspected that you and Jeonghan hyung were dating.”

Regret comes instantaneously the moment the words fall out of his mouth. 

So much for being discreet. Your face stiffens. Jihoon knows he fucked up badly.

“I—I mean, I’m not trying to comment on anything, I was just surprised to find out.” Dammit. Wrong move. He might get blacklisted like you did with Mingyu. He’s not panicking because their stupid operation might fail. He’s panicking because he’s gonna lose the bragging right of being on good terms with SVT’s intimidatingly unapproachable Vice Chair.

The ice in your drink clinks around. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and prepares for the worst.

“God. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”

Then he opens one eye. He sees you swirling your lemonade with one hand, the other used as a resting place for your chin before you take a sip from the straw and continue complaining. “I can’t stand him. I shouldn’t have let him sweet talk me into that first fucking date, that venomous bastard. His face is a weapon. I should’ve known better than to trust that face.” 

Jihoon’s eyes are now fully opened. He discreetly pulls out his phone from his pocket— the device still constantly buzzing— and opens his recorder app all while his heart is nervously barrelling against his ribcage from the remnants of his fear. “Did he like—” Jihoon presses record, “—cheat on you or something?”

“What? No way. He’d never do that.”

“Then,” he continues prodding. “Why did you two break up?”

“Ugh,” you grunt, taking another long sip from your drink before slamming it down the table with a thunk. Jihoon flinches. He secures his phone underneath the table, checking if it’s still recording everything. “Don’t get me started. You don’t get it, Hoon. He’s just so—”

Jihoon never expected you to just lay down everything for him. You just continue pouring and pouring everything out like a fountain. A fountain of dirty laundry and too many swear words that his audio recording might get flagged if it gets uploaded online. This...was easier than expected.

*‎

Seokmin’s eyes are narrowed at his senior— zoomed in and in focus as the aforementioned finishes talking to a group of SVT’s new members. He’s taken a step back with a stack of flyers pressed to his chest. He can’t miss anything. He can’t miss a single thing.

“Thank you! I better be seeing your faces during the event, alright? Enjoy your lunch!”

Jeonghan is giving them the copy of the program for your upcoming Orye and MT. Freshmen. All women, as far as his eyes can tell, and they’re all giggling after his senior bids them off. He’s never seen Jeonghan hyung smile at you like that. In fact, he’s never even seen him wave at you goodbye like what he’s doing right now. Has he moved on? Oh no. This is bad. This plan might be ruined before they could even conduct an intervention. 

“Seokmin, what’s wrong?” asks Jeonghan, snapping him out from the brink of a spiral of despair. “You don’t look too good. Is the weather too hot? Should we take a break?”

“N—no, I’m alright! Let’s keep going!” Seokmin needs to know if his hyung’s unnaturally sweet behavior was an isolated case. There’s not enough information in the air to make a solid conclusion.

“Well, I’m not alright,” Jeonghan grimaces. “The heat is unbearable. Let’s have lunch first, then we’ll continue. Go find us a good place to eat.”

A lump grows in Seokmin’s throat and he nervously swallows, watching as Jeonghan pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, to the SVT group chat probably to give them an update. Or to one of the girls he was talking to earlier. Shit. “Hyung, who are you texting?” he asks. Jeonghan responds with a pause, a suspicious smile, and tells him that ‘it’s a secret, hehe,’ and that he should hurry and look for a nice restaurant because he’s starving.

That wasn’t a helpful answer at all. Seokmin’s anxiety grows by the second. “What...what do you want to eat, hyung?” He should ask more questions later.

“You pick,” is Jeonghan’s reply with yet another grin that puts him ill at ease. “I’m placing my faith in you Seokmin. It better be a good place.”

There’s another lump in his throat. Oh god. This guy sure knows how to pressure people in the weirdest ways. And now instead of prodding around to figure out if his senior has indeed moved on or still has lingering feelings for you, he’s scrolling through his phone trying to look up a good restaurant— panic-stricken because god forbid he make a disappointing choice— while Jeonghan starts talking to another SVT member who just happened to pass by.

“We’re having it next month,” he overhears Jeonghan speaking, momentarily taking away his eyes from his phone just to see his hyung yet again looking and smiling at the org member with an alarming amount of sweetness pouring out of his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”

“Y—yes…!”

His observation is cut short by the buzz of his phone. A message bar pops up, covering the top of the screen and preemptively stopping his resto search.

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Seungkwan: seok, do we have updates??? jihoon hyung hasn’t gotten back to use since thirty minutes ago!!] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Minghao: I told you all this plan was hopeless] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: why is noona telling me to take herbal teas and drink lots of water?????]

“So, where are we eating?”

Seokmin’s bones rattle and the phone nearly jumps out of his hands like a live fish.

“Talking to people is tiring,” he hears his senior lament with a long sigh. “Seokmin-ah, you take over after lunch. Let’s go.”

Go where? He hasn’t picked a place yet! Why are there so many food places around campus?! Jeonghan quickly starts walking and, out of even more panic, Seokmin picks a random direction, robotically taking the lead, brain overheating and eyes spinning out of focus until muscle memory lands them across the street of a hotpot place he frequents, just a few blocks away from campus. “O—oh, haha! Hyung, we’re here! Let’s—let’s quickly get inside, yes—”

He stops upon the realization that Jeonghan isn’t following him along the crosswalk. When Seokmin turns his head back, he sees Jeonghan staring at the place with a dampened expression. His first thought is maybe Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like hotpot. His second thought is maybe he shouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the road, so he quickly pads back to the sidewalk. 

“Hyung…? Are— are you not in the mood for hotpot? Should we go somewhere else?” Seokmin’s gut churns, devastated because he had just betrayed his hyung’s trust in finding an acceptable restaurant. What’s wrong with hotpot at Red House? Did he have a bad experience here? But his place is so good! He and Soonyoung and Jun hyung have been eating here twice a week, Wednesday and Saturdays, ever since you recommended the place to them as your favorite, and— oh.

So, that’s the problem.

You’ve probably eaten here with him too.

“No, no. We’re not going anywhere.” Jeonghan’s demeanor suddenly switches gears. He brushes past him with a sudden determined look, not looking back even when Seokmin calls after him.

“Hyung, I know another place nearby. We don’t have to—”

“Let’s get inside.”

Seokmin has no freaking idea how to dissect or interpret this reaction. Nervous steps follow his senior inside the restaurant, and a server welcomes them both and leads them to a table by the window. “Oh, you’re not here with your girlfriend today,” says the waiting staff after they’ve made their orders, and he sees Jeonghan visibly flinch in the middle of passing back the menu. Jeonghan simply responds with a stiff smile. Seokmin is sure that he had just screwed up big time.

Why did the server have to mention you? Why?! Now, he can’t help but look at the server with an utter look of betrayal as he sets the ingredients on the table. “Is...is there something wrong, sir?” asks the server with uneasy concern. Seokmin’s bottom lip juts out, shaking his head with a sniffle, and thanks the server with a weak voice and tone.

Jeonghan doesn’t appear to be faring any better. While waiting for the broth to boil, all Seokmin could do is soak up the steadily deflating expression of his hyung and worry that it might affect the taste of the food somehow. He was pretty sure Jeonghan is already over you, considering he seemed to be mildly flirting with the org members earlier and all. But now he’s not so sure. Not when his hyung is poking his chopstick into a block of tofu with a gut wrenching look of longing.

“Hyung...” Seokin makes an attempt. “I’m—I’m sorry for bringing you here, I didn’t know it was—”

“Seokmin-ah.” Jeonghan speaks along with the crank of the stove. “A gente world of advice: don’t bring up sensitive topics when the person you’re talking to has a weapon on him. You’re going to get in trouble.”

The sunlight leaking through the window gives a dangerous glint to the scissors Jeonghan is holding. Seokmin bites his tongue. Jeonghan cuts up the noodles and the two start eating quietly.

Seokmin loves eating. He really does. But this time, every bite tastes like hot sand, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to get indigestion afterwards.

He swallows down another mouthful with the help of a glass of water, and as he’s trying to get the mix of meat and vegetables down his throat, the sound of utensils that were previously clattering suddenly stops. When Seokmin puts the glass down, he sees Jeonghan seasoning the warm broth with salt.

The natural salt that comes out of your eyes when you start crying.

Holy shit, his hyung is crying.

“Sorry, I just— haha, the soup’s a little spicy, right?”

No. No it’s not. They ordered chicken broth. The soup isn’t spicy at all.

“H—hyung…”

Seokmin’s eyes are now also starting to water. Oh no. Oh no, dear god, what has he done? He didn’t mean to bring him here and reawaken stashed away memories. All he wanted to do was find a good place to eat!

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

This was a mistake. They should’ve just had kimbap and ramyeon at the nearby 7-Eleven.

*‎

“So, let me get this straight. One of them did nothing but talk shit about the other for thirty minutes, and the other started crying because Seokmin brought him to her favorite restaurant.”

The SVT officers (minus their Chair and Vice Chars) have reconvened the next day at the office. Their upcoming event isn’t a priority right now. The only thing on the agenda is the problem with you and Yoon Jeonghan— to which Mingyu is trying to wrack his brains in coming up with something in light of their initial investigation. 

“After listening to the recording Hoon sent, I don’t think she hates Jeonghan. She sounded like was just nitpicking in the heat of the moment,” says Jun. “If she’s still angry at him...maybe she isn’t over him yet? Maybe there’s still a chance?”

All eyes are on Jihoon, who witnessed your rant firsthand. 

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she looked a little sad while talking about him. She didn’t add anything else beyond the recording.” It’s not like the recording was of any help. Most of it was just you calling Jeonghan a son of a bitch, a piece of shit, and so on, as well as a few tangents about Mingyu that he himself didn’t quite appreciate. He thought he was your favorite. Like, why are you assuming that he’s on Jeonghan’s side?! They weren’t even friends back in high school! 

He spins the office chair in annoyance. To think he gave you a higher score than Jeonghan on your quarterly evaluation. Maybe he should ask Cheol to take it back.

“Well, if one of them is still on the hook, then there’s still a possibility that they can still get back together,” Wonwoo conjectures, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the rest.

“Does this mean we can finally lock them inside a fucking closet?”

“We are not locking them in a closet,” Seungkwan says. Minghao rolls his eyes at the dismissal. “We can’t do that. But we can bring in some forced proximity in a different way.”

Mingyu stops swiveling the chair. Why is Seungkwan looking straight at him? Wait. Why are they all looking straight at him? His throat tightens. He forces down a swallow. What, what, what’s the matter, why are they all looking at him?

“Oh no!”

Suddenly, Seungkwan starts a one-man drama. He exclaims, an arm jutting into the air before he lets the back of the loose hand drop onto his forehead, stumbling into Vernon who’s standing next to him.

“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment this Saturday— the same day where I’m supposed to accompany our Vice Chairs and Business Manager in checking out the venues! Oh no! I don’t think I can make it!”

Right. He along with Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, and you are scheduled to evaluate each of the places on your list so that you can finalize the event venue. Not long after, Chan also breaks into a gasp, catching Seungkwan’s signal. “Oh my! I forgot I also, uh, have a thing on Saturday! What a bummer!”

“Then, I also—”

“No!” 

Mingyu winces. He’s shocked. He’s appalled. He’s offended. Why is he being yelled at?! Wasn’t he supposed to go along with the other two? “You don’t have a thing on Saturday, Mingyu. You have to be there to make sure that things don’t go wrong!” Seungkwan tells him, and at first he understands. He’s goes ‘oh, right, of course, yeah, sure,” but the moment what that situation entails finally dawns upon him— the fact that he has to be stuck in between you and Yoon Jeonghan for at least ten hours, maybe more— his blood runs cold and his face pales. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with that.

“Why me?! Why can’t Joshua hyung go?”

Joshua answers with an offended look of bewilderment. 

“Hey, it’s your assignment,” answers Jihoon. “And it was your idea to try and get them back together again. You have the moral obligation to make sure this shit actually works.”

There is no hope to get out of this. They adjourn the meeting and everyone starts filtering out the office— not without giving him looks of sympathy and pats on the back before leaving. “Good luck,” Wonwoo says in passing. Vernon sends him a salute before closing the door. Damn him and his meddling ass. He should’ve just let your relationship die out for good.

The day of reckoning comes. It’s five in the morning at the campus parking lot, you and Jeonghan on the opposite ends of his car, and Mingyu already wants to tuck himself in bed for the day. You’re tapping your feet in impatience, looking at your phone with a glare, while Jeonghan pockets his phone with a sigh and welcome’s himself into the front seat of Mingyu’s car with a distinct slam. You huff and do the same into the backseat. 

Shit. This might actually be his last day on earth. Mingyu hurries into the driver’s before either of you yell at him to get moving.

“Tell Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan that they’re getting sanctioned for this,” grits Jeonghan. Mingyu closes the door and prepares himself for an inevitable six to eight hours of hell.

“The kids are sick and you want to penalize them?” you interject from the back. Mingyu notices Jeonghan’s jaw clench. He shuts his eyes tight and whispers a few prayers. “You’re abusing your authority, Mr. VCI. Cut them some slack.”

“Negligence of duty. Section one under General Prohibitions,” rebuts Jeonghan, making eye contact with you through the front view mirror. “Failure to inform ahead of time the inability to do a task or assignment delegated to them shall be considered an act of negligence on the part of the officer. I’m not abusing any authority, sweetheart. I am acting well within my functions. It’s too early for this kind of—”

Silence drops. So does the temperature in the car which at this point feels like negative fourteen degrees. Jeonghan stifles a cough and rolls down the window for air. You look down and flit through the pages of the document you brought. Mingyu’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he wants to cry.

“Can we go now? Please? We have six places to visit and I really don’t want to be driving until midnight.”

“We can rotate,” you tell him. “Let’s switch drivers after every location.”

Something tells Mingyu that if he lets your explosive temper behind the wheel, this will not only be the last he’ll be seeing of his cherished car that his parents got him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but this will also be the last he’ll be seeing of this mortal realm as well.

“No, haha, it’s okay,” he answers, finally starting the engine. “You two have been working really hard for this event so the least I can do is drive.”

“Well, alright. But there better be no more emergencies like last time.”

Mingyu still doesn’t know what you mean by that. Nor does he know why you’ve been giving him herbal teas and digestive supplements. Anyway, the three of you finally hit the road and proceed to your first stop— all the way to Daecheon, which will take about an hour if traffic grants them kindness. Jeonghan rolls the windows back up at some point because besides the ice-cold tension between the both of you, it really is getting cold, and the sky has been cloudy since earlier, and the weather app is telling him that there’s a twenty percent chance of rain. Literally all odds are stacked against him today.

He does live long enough to get through three venues, thankfully. The first one, near Daecheon beach, you complained that the rooms were stuffy and Jeonghan told you to sleep by the ‘goddamned beach if you wanted to feel extra fresh.’ The second beach location couldn’t accommodate your amount of people. The third one— the hanok-style villa in Gyeongsang which you’ve just finished surveying and which Mingyu thought was really nice— Jeonghan said that there’s too many bugs for it to be conducive. You told him to wear a mosquito net ‘you fucking princess,’ while walking back to the car. At this point, it’s already past four in the afternoon. The eleven hours of being trapped in a car with your ex-boyfriend is probably finally getting to your head.

“You really could care less about your members’ well being as long as we do what you want, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t bitten by a single mosquito there. You’re just making problems up to discredit my—”

It’s getting to Mingyu’s head, too. One more minute in this enclosed space with the both of you and he’s jumping out the window.

“Anyway, let’s head to the next location,” you say with a sigh. “Woodland Springs Resort. Luckily, it’s only an hour away.”

Mingyu’s knuckles twitch on the steering wheel. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

He catches your face through the mirror, brows furrowed with a frown. “Mingyu, let me drive this time. You’ve been at it for hours.” 

“She’s right. Go sit in the back, we can take over.”

He has. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted by the constant fear that you two might actually make a murder scene out of his precious car, that he’s pretty sure that him driving would soon become a road-risk. It would be fine, right? You two have probably expelled your energy, anyway. Or at least about to. Worst case scenario is that Jeonghan hyung pisses you off and you’d expertly crash the car in a way that would only kill him and leave you two alive.

“Okay,” Mingyu weakly breathes out. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

He opens the car and gets out. So do you. So does Jeonghan. The three of you are out of the car. The math isn’t mathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask Jeonghan.

“I’m taking the wheel,” he simply says, already making his way over to the other side of the car.

“What are you talking about, Mingyu was talking to me.” You’re fast. Fast enough to swat away Jeonghan’s hand from the door handle to the driver’s seat. Jeonghan tightly presses his lips together and releases a huff of air. You look at him with sharp eyes with no intention of moving. Mingyu is literally, physically, and positionally caught in between this shit and he wishes he should’ve just floored it.

“I’m driving,” Jeonghan asserts. “You look barely awake, yourself. Do you plan on crashing us or something?”

The worried undertone completely flies over your head. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” Mingyu really doesn’t want to witness this argument at this proximity right now. Jeonghan sighs and digs into his hair.

“No, I just want you to—”

Cr—ack! Boom!

Suddenly, there’s thunder.

And when there’s thunder, there’s rain.

Pshhhhhhh!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hurry and get in, let’s go—”

Mingyu really wanted to yell at that moment. Thankfully, the sky beat him to it.

It starts pouring. The three of you scramble back into the car.

All things considered, you all decided that it’d be too dangerous to stay on the road, taking into account the weather and exhaustion and all, so you looked for a nearby inn through Google Maps and Jeonghan drove you there (yes, he won in the end and you’re still bitter in the backseat). 

Boom! Another round of thunder, and the rain just continues to pour harder and harder. At this rate, you guys won’t be able to check out the rest of the locations today. Meaning, his prison sentence is bound to be extended. God freaking dammit. Mingyu continues to bitterly lament while rushing into the cabin inn. The door jingles upon entry. He lets out a sigh of relief upon being saved from the rain.

“Hi, good evening! Do you still have any rooms available?”

You’re there at the front desk doing your thing, being the externals head and all, while he and Jeonghan wait behind, damp and uncomfortable. He can see his hyung getting more and more impatient by the second, tapping his wet soles against the wooden flooring with his arms crossed. Mingyu can only sigh and hope to take a meditative shower soon, once you’ve booked the three of your rooms.

“Ah, yes,” says the lady behind the front desk. She looks at you, then spares a glance at him and Jeonghan in all their soggy glory, before flitting her eyes back at you. Okay what the hell. He knows they look terrible right now, but that was just rude. “Will it be for the three of you? Unfortunately, we only have one room left available, ma’am, peak season and all, and it’s only good for two people.

“That’s fine, we’ll take—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judgemental Front Desk Lady interrupts. “I meant a maximum of two people can occupy the room. It’s our policy.”

Well that’s stupid. The hell were you guys supposed to do, then? Run back to the car, get even more wet in the process, and look for another place to stay in this stupid weather? Mingyu can practically see a vein throbbing on the back of your head. He catches your shoulders lift and drop along with an exhale, a momentary pause before you respond. “Can’t you make an exemption? The weather is terrible outside and we really need a place to stay for the time being.”

Mingyu decides to look over and see how the other ticking time bomb is faring, but when he leers over to the side, Jeonghan is no longer beside him. Wet footsteps against wooden floors can be heard. He snaps his head back to the front desk and sees his hyung walking up to you— placing his arm around your freaking waist when he lands next to you, and alarm bells suddenly go off in Mingyu’s head.

“Babe, what’s the problem?”

Goosebumps prick all over his body.

What. 

What the fuck? 

“What’s wrong?”

Mingyu rubs his eyes, thinking that he just saw (and heard) wrong, but no. Yoon Jeonghan has indeed reigned claim over your waist. The fuck? He refocuses into your expression, expecting you to look disgusted and send a kick to his hyung’s shin, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you flash a look at Jeonghan, then back to the receptionist, peering down at the desk surface where her hand is resting, before looking back up at Jeonghan and nudging yourself closer to him with a sigh. What in the everloving fuck is going on?

“They’re saying that only two people can stay inside the room,” you lament. “This trip really isn’t working out for us. After our disaster of a honeymoon, the last thing I thought would happen was for us to get stranded in Gyeongsang in the middle of a storm.”

“Let’s just go look for another place to stay, sweetheart.” 

“But it’s pouring outside! I can’t let you drive in the weather. It’s too dangerous.”

Honeymoon? What? What the hell is this improv sketch? Why the fuck is his hyung giving you the lovestruck eyes and why are you letting him look at you with lovestruck eyes? Why are you lovestruck-eyeing him back?

“Oh, you’re newlyweds?” asks the receptionist, and Mingyu didn’t think his eyebrows could scrunch up any further until he heard Jeonghan agree.

“We just got married last week,” he says with a sickeningly sweet tone. 

“How lovely!”

“Actually, we just came back from our honeymoon at Geoje Island,” you add. “It’s a long trip, and we wanted to get home as soon as possible, but that...wasn’t exactly an option for us.” Suddenly, you turn your head back to look at him. Now, you’re all looking at him. Why are you all looking at him? This is fucking scary.

You lean into Jeonghan and whisper something into his ear. A look flashes on Jeonghan’s face. He doesn’t like this look.

“Brother, can you please give us a moment?”

There’s a pause. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar and he hesitantly points to himself. Brother? Me? Jeonghan nods and smiles and returns his attention back to you and the receptionist. The three of you are talking about something. In a significantly lower volume. While sending him looks of remorse in between. What the hell are you two bullshitting about now?

Not long after, Mingyu sees the lady drop a room key into your hands and sends you off with a smile. “Second floor. Thank you, and have a great evening!”

“Thanks!” 

Mingyu isn’t exactly sure what just happened or how it happened, but at least you have a place to stay for the night? When the three of you hike up the stairs and spot the room with 203 labeled on the door, Mingyu decides that he needs to know what you fuckers talked about. “How did you do it?” He blocks the door before you could open it. “I thought only two people could use this? How did you get us the room?” Jeonghan and you exchange a look before relenting.

“Your fiance called off your engagement and you were so depressed that you followed us all the way to our Geoje,” you blankly respond.

“Our parents are on vacation so you couldn’t go to them. We were kind enough to let you third wheel on our honeymoon,” adds Jeonghan. Mingyu blinks. “But on the way back it started raining, so we’re stuck here for the moment. We noticed a wedding ring on Soonja’s finger, so it was pretty easy to get her sympathy.

Soonja. You even know the lady’s name, holy fuck. At least that explains the pitiful looks sent his way. But Mingyu is still very much perturbed. The hairs on his arms are still standing. “You two are con artists,” is all he can say back.

You roll your eyes and toss the key to him. “Hey, it got us the room.”

“Right,” Mingyu grunts, catching it mid-air. “You’re both so good at lying, even I’m starting to think you’re still married.”

The doorknob clatters open. You and Jeonghan quickly jump away from each other, and Jeonghan loses the steady hold he had around your waist since earlier. Mingyu stifles a grin. The alarm and embarrassment on both of your faces makes this day’s worth of stress all worth it. 

“Hurry up and get in! I need a shower and a change of clothes, gosh.”

Fortunately, you three prepared extra articles of clothing for the trip, having anticipated sweat from the heat instead of getting pissed on by the rain clouds. Unfortunately, Mingyu lost at rock paper scissors so he gets to shower last. “There’s a drying rack in the bathroom,” you tell them upon exiting, a towel to your head before plopping down on the bed next to the window. 

When Mingyu finishes showering, he hears you and Jeonghan arguing over something again. Cheol’s voice can be heard somewhere too. Upon re-entering the room, he spots you two occupying the floor right by the bed, a laptop sitting on the mattress that’s showing a very tired Seungcheol trying to cut in between your yelling.

“In hindsight, I think the beach in Daecheon is our best option. The kids can run around more freely there.”

“No, you were right about the mountains. The hanok-style villa is better suited for our event theme. We can just add bug repellent to our budget plan.”

“Listen to me for a second—”

“You’re the one who’s not—”

“This could have been an email,” says Seungcheol’s choppy voice thanks to the shitty reception. Yeah. Mingyu isn’t dealing with this. Over twelve hours of being a third party to your arguments is already enough, thank you very much. He drops down the unoccupied bed, already getting comfortable, and uses the nonstop swearing next to him as a lullaby.

Weird enough, it’s an effective lullaby because Mingyu slept like a rock. He yawns, stretches out of bed thanks to the early morning light through the curtains waking him. It’s clear out. The windows have watery dots painting it from the aftermath of the rain.

It’s pretty outside, Mingyu notices, but there’s something more eye-catching than the pretty natural scenery of the mountainside.

The laptop is still on and laying on the bed, pushed further to the edge with a low battery notification obscuring the open document of the event’s program that he’d seen Jeonghan preparing in the car yesterday. But what’s occupying most of the mattress is the both of you— you and Jeonghan— with your printed documents scattered around, surrounding a sight that he probably isn’t meant to see.

You’re laying on Jeonghan’s arm as a pillow, face turned to the side and slightly tucked into chest. Jeonghan’s chin is buried into the top of your head, his legs tangled with yours and the blanket has been kicked off the side. The morning light is showering the both of you like a spotlight. Mingyu snaps a picture. The kids are gonna eat this shit up.

*‎

It’s the day of the event, and Choi Seungcheol has not slept a wink since last night.

There were some last minute things he needed to take care of. Game props, printouts, and powerpoint presentations he forgot to quality check until ten in the evening. Grocery shopping for snacks, and an error in the bus booking. The works. But none of that matters now. They’ve all been settled, everyone has made it to the hanok villa in Gyeongsang in one piece with no asthma attacks nor heart related concerns occurring, and not once had you and Yoon Jeonghan argued ever since last night.

To be honest, it’s freaking him out a little. He wasn’t the only one who had to pull an all-nighter. His two Vice Chairs had to suffer with him too and the both of you have been extremely civil to the point of unease. It’s weird. It’s eerie. Like right now, as you two are welcoming the lines and lines of members in hanboks and traditional attire with matching smiles and pleasantries. You run out of program printouts and ask Jeonghan if he has any left, he gives you a stack, and the exchange ends without even a scoff, a swear, a mock, or even a look of derision.

This is...ominous, to say the least. It’s like the calm before the storm. Choi Seungcheol cannot rest easy.

“What the fuck is going on with them?”

It seems like he isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Currently, it’s lunchtime. They’d just finished presenting the constitution, bylaws, and internal rules and regulations of the organization. Now, they’re queueing up the kids to the food table. 

Among the ushers are you and Jeonghan. Standing next to each other. You aren’t arguing but you aren’t talking to each other either. Joshua is the one who brings it up to the small group preparing the drinks right now— him, Soonyoung, and Vernon. If Joshua doesn’t know the reason for your sudden civility, then no one does. Junhui gets interrogated too, but he provides no answers, only confusion. “Wow. Wild,” is all Jun remarks. They have no idea if you two have made up, have settled your differences, have gotten back together, or all of the above.

It’s fucking with him, especially after weeks of being perpetually on the edge because of your cold war. Seungcheol calls Mingyu to a corner while everyone else is in the midst of preparing for the next part of the program. Mingyu jogs over, mildly scared and mildly confused.

“Hyung,” he calls out. “What’s up?”

“Our two Vice Chairs,” Seungcheol starts. He looks over at the center field where the members are sitting. Chan and the rest are still handing out the paper slips. He can still interrogate Mingyu. “You went with them for location scouting. Did something happen between them?”

Mingyu looks taken aback. “Uh.” He stiffens. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him.

“Kim Mingyu.” 

“Define ‘something,’” Mingyu delays. 

Now, this is suspicious. He definitely knows what that something is. Choi Seungcheol isn’t gonna let him off without squeezing the information out of him. “I don’t know,” he huffs. “Anything that could explain why they’re acting like—” 

Seungcheol points in a direction. Mingyu’s eyes follow the trajectory, and his gaze lands on a very alarming scene: Yoon Jeonghan sitting on one of the monoblocks, Yoon Jeonghan seeing you pass by, Yoon Jeonghan standing up, Yoon Jeonghan stopping you with a tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan offering his seat to you, Yoon Jeonghan leaving the scene and busying himself with some other task, after you had taken his seat.

“Like that?”

Mingyu is now sweating. “Uhhhh,” he hesitantly drawls. Then his eyes dart around. Until he spots Seungkwan pass by with a stack of boxes. “Can I talk to my lawyer first?”

“Mingyu.”

“Let’s—let’s—let’s get back to work, hyung! I have to go—”

He attempts to chase Kim Mingyu down. Attempts. Because Mingyu suddenly has the speed of a track and fielder and drags Seungkwan away into the accommodation building, the hanok, and he’s suddenly pulled back by Chan, who’s holding a box containing two or three small pieces of folder up papers. “Hyung,” Chan starts. “It’s your turn to pick.”

Seungcheol furrows his brows. Drat. Kim Mingyu has escaped. “Pick what?”

“Your manito. Duh,” Chan answers. It’s the box he’s been passing out since earlier— a box filled with the names of all the attendees and whoever you pick out, you’re tasked to take care of them throughout the entire trip and pay them special attention. For relationship building, according to Jeonghan, when he pitched the idea. Seungcheol is aware of this mini activity, but he didn’t know he’d be participating. He stares at the remaining three papers. “Hurry up. I still have to give the rest to Seungkwan and Mingyu hyung.”

“Show me some respect,” he scolds, picking out a random name. “They ran inside. Storage, I think.”

Chan hums in acknowledgement and takes the box away. When he’s left, Seungcheol rolls open the piece of paper. Looking at the members gathered around the field right now (who are listening to the intermission number prepared by Seokmin and Jihoon) he notices that a few of the kids are already getting pretty chummy. He sighs, pretty sure that he picked out a new member that’s most probably three years younger than him. How is he supposed to overcome the generation gap? Won’t the kid find it weird if this old man suddenly starts acting close?

Much to his initial relief, a familiar name greets him. Yours, in big bold letters. That’s...that’s pretty doable. His favoritism for you is already blatant to the point that Soonyoung gets jealous. You’d been working hard since, well— the moment you’ve been a member of fucking SVT. He can just tell you to sit and rest and transfer your tasks over to the other guys.

“Hey.”

Seungcheol calls out to you, who’s sitting on the seat Jeonghan gave away earlier. Seokmin and Jihoon are hyping up the crowd (mostly Seokmin), but you’re hunched over in your seat, massaging your temples while looking over a document. “Chair,” you snap up, visibly tired and stressed (and unrested, by the way). “A few members are absent, so the number of members for each group for the team building later are mismatched. Should we keep it as is, or should we transfer some of them?”

A pang of guilt hits him. Christ, he’s been taking advantage of your competence and diligence. “Transfer, but leave that list with me. I’ll take care of it.” He lays a hand on your shoulder, urging you to go rest inside one of the hanoks for now. “You didn’t even nap on the bus. Go get some sleep. I’ll ask one of the guys to wake you before team building.”

You look up at him, smiling. Oh, his poor successor. He’s been overworking you to the bone. “Will do, Chair. Thanks.”

He mirrors your smile, watching fondly as you walk into one of the houses. It’s all warm and sweet. Until it’s not.

Seungcheol jolts. He feels a chill run down his spine. What the fuck? 

He whips his head around, startled by the sudden cold flash. Then, from a few feet away, he spots Jeonghan, preparing the multicolored handkerchiefs for the team building, but has stopped arranging them by color because he is glaring daggers at him. Hello? What in the world? He’s about to approach, but then he staggers in his steps upon seeing you pass by Jeonghan’s station. 

Jeonghan stops working, circling from behind the station to say something to you. You say something back— something that’s enough to tighten Jeonghan’s expression, and Seungcheol knits his brows. He can’t hear what you two are talking about, but he’s pretty sure it’s an argument. Oh god. It is an argument. You’ve got your angry face on and Jeonghan is raking his hair. Oh no. You two have been so well-behaved. You’ve been getting along so, so well lately. Is he at fault for ruining your peace?! How was he supposed to know your ex-boyfriend is a jealous bastard?! He was just doing his task and being nice to you!

“There goes all our progress.”

Seungcheol snaps his head back to see Jun. He’s sipping on a juice box, a leftover from lunch. There’s a good amount of disappointment in his face. “Pro—progress?” 

Junhui pulls down the juice from his mouth, shaking his head. “Hyung. You’ve ruined everything.”

Now, what the fuck is this cryptic bullshit? Jun just walks away, leaving even more crumples in Seungcheol’s brain. Seokmin and Jihoon’s performance is about to end, the mic screeches, and an applause breaks out, but he’s still debating on what to do. Should he pry information out of Jun? Or run after the both of you? However, he gets to do neither because at the end of the intermission, Seokmin does something off-course.

He’s supposed to pass the mic to Seungkwan by now, to announce the short break before team building. But Seungkwan isn’t here, and Seokmin is still holding the mic, and the crowd is still cheering. He meets eyes with Seokmin onstage. A bad feeling hits his gut. And since the breakup meeting that happened a few weeks ago, Seungcheol has learned that whatever his gut is feeling is unquestionably correct.

“The show isn’t over yet! Let’s give it up to our dependable, hot, and arguably aging Chairperson— Choi Seungcheol! Woohoo!”

This.

This was not part of the program that he remembers approving.

“Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol!”

This was definitely not part of it at all.

“Again, give it up for Mr. Chair!”

Illit’s Magnetic, Viviz’s Maniac, and KIOF’s Midas Touch later (with his face mimicking a red and ripe cherry), Seungcheol was finally allowed off the stage. “Wow! That’s our Chair, everybody! Who knew he was hiding this kind of charm?” Seungcheol wants to die. Seokmin’s voice is cheery in the microphone, but his officer suddenly turns his face away from the mic to whisper something to him. “Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice is suddenly grave. “I got a text from Seungkwan. He says he can’t find the VCs.”

Oh, fuck this. He’s going to kill himself.

“Tell—tell the kids we’re gonna have some free time first before proceeding to the team building.” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol’s face is still very very hot, but he swallows the embarrassment aside for now to deal with this problem. You and Yoon Jeonghan can’t just disappear. You’re both leading two teams for the games. Well. Maybe he can give you a pass, but Jeonghan is still needed out there. He feels unreasonably wronged by him too for that glare earlier. 

Seungcheol marches into the hanok. He spots an equally stressed looking Seungkwan inside the living area. Mingyu and Jihoon are there, too. So are Joshua, Vernon, and Chan. Why are they all here? They’re supposed to be preparing for the team building. These kids are slacking.

He’s gonna give them an earful later. For now, there’s a bigger issue to solve. “Where are the two?” 

“We don’t know!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’ve been looking for them too.”

He hears a sniffle come from one of them. It’s from Soonyoung. “The last I’ve seen them, they were arguing.” Seungcheol gulps. Maybe…by any chance…that may have been his fault? “This happened with my parents too. And they came back with divorce papers.”

“Stop projecting your unresolved familial trauma onto them,” Jihoon sighs. “They aren’t your parents.”

“I’ve sent a text to Wonwoo and Minghao hyung,” Vernon brings up. “Maybe they’ve seen them.”

At that moment, Minghao enters the living area. Seven heads snap to his direction. Minghao stops in his tracks. “What?” He looks awfully relaxed, not looking as though he had just dealt with two ex-lovers who say they hate each other and that it’s over, but have too much sexual tension for their assertion to be believable. In fact, he looks quite at peace. Satisfied, even. Accomplished. This is fucking suspicious. “Isn’t it time for the team building activities?”

“Hao,” Seungcheol starts. “Have you seen the two Vice Chairs?”

Minghao looks at them. There’s a pause of anticipation. There’s literally no reason for this suspense build-up. “Oh,” Hao exhales. Why are they all waiting for the pin to drop? “I did.”

What they hear next, they never could have been prepared for. 

“I locked them in a closet.”

The pin has dropped. 

Seungcheol is the first to speak up. 

“You...you what?” he starts. “Come again?”

“They were arguing,” Minghao shrugs. “I got annoyed.”

Seungkwan’s mouth is hanging open. “You— you got annoyed,” he stammers. “So you…”

“Locked them in a closet,” Minghao finishes. “Yeah.”

It doesn’t hit them at first. Then it does. It hits them hard.

They all exchange looks. In a matter of soundless seconds, they immediately run to the direction Minghao just came from. What does he mean he locked you and Jeonghan in the closet, why would he lock you two in the closet, locking you two in the closet is a recipe for shit-eating disaster, does he want Yoon Jeonghan to fucking die?

“Shit, what if Jeonghan hyung is dead?”

At least they’re all on the same page. They come to a screeching halt upon reaching the room at the end of the hallway, but there is no sign of either of you. The only semblance of humanity within the vicinity is Wonwoo, who is sitting at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and typing without a care in the world. 

Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the room. Closet. Closet. There’s an indication of a sliding door at the opposite wall. He walks up to it, hesitantly with shaky steps, his heart hammering against his chest. The others inch behind him in caution. Sweat starts trailing down from his forehead. He reaches out for the handle, one hand outstretched, and then—

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”

Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the tension. He freezes. They all look back at the man by the desk, unaffectedly writing his documents, the sound of keyboard clicking filling the gaps in the air. “Why?” Seungcheol chokes out. Thunk. Their heads snap back to the closet. He feels Soonyoung clutch him from behind.

“There was yelling from in there until a moment ago,” is Wonwoo’s simple answer. “I think they’ve moved on to something else.”

Another tense pause fills the room. “Who...who was yelling?” Jihoon raises. “What kind of yelling? Why didn’t you check if anything was wrong?”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, momentarily taking his eyes off from the laptop to give their huddled group a look of disgust. “And risk walking in on them making out or something? No, thanks.” Then resumes what he’s doing. They all look at each other. Surely, that can’t be the case, right? You’ve got more pride on your shoulders than to fold for Yoon Jeonghan just because of some contrived forced proximity. It’s more likely that you’ve found an opportunity to strangle him. To kill him in cold blood. Which is why they’ve all run here out of concern right now.

“Why would there be yelling if they’re making out?!” Mingyu exclaims, concerned.

“I don’t know the kind things they’re into,” Wonwoo leers at them. “And frankly, I don’t want to know.”

“Then...what are you doing here, hyung?” Vernon prods. “Of all places.”

Once more, Wonwoo stops typing to grace them with an answer. “This is the only spot with good reception.” This feels like a fever dream. Seungcheol does not know what to do. His attention is directed back to the closed closet door, hearing another...thud coming from within. He locks eyes with Seungkwan. And then Mingyu. And then Jihoon. Holy shit. In his four years of Chairmanship over SVT, this, by far, has been his biggest obstacle yet.

The officers before him never warned him about this. What exactly is the best course of action here? What would result in the least amount of emotional, mental, and physical repercussions? Leave the door alone? Unlock it and witness horrors untold? There’s still an event they have to manage. Seokmin is probably freaking out outside right now. Yet here they are, watching the unmoving and locked closet door with uncertainty and caution, like it’s an oracle that will show them the way, that will give them a command to do something. Anything. And, much to their surprise and horror—

“Mr. Chair.”

It does.

“Would you please unlock the door?”

The oracle is wearing the sound of your voice? No, wait. It is your voice. From behind the door. “Holy shit,” he hears one of them hiss out from behind. Holy shit indeed. Seungcheol knows better than to test your temper. Quickly, he reaches out for the handle, clicks it open, and a force stronger than his slides the door gaping and completely open, revealing the dark and until interiors of the closet.

You emerge from the darkness. So does Jeonghan. Alive. Unstrangled. Maybe? That’s up for debate because there are some visible marks on his throat. Seungcheol pretends not to see. 

“W—welcome back…?” Soonyoung hesitantly drawls out. You walk out from the closet, Jeonghan trailing behind you slightly from behind. You’re both still wearing the in theme hanboks, but the fabrics are clearly disheveled. And loose. And Jeonghan is hooking his fingers on the hand lagging behind you. And looking at the back of your head with a concerning amount of heart eyes.

You don’t mention a thing about it. “I believe we are behind schedule,” you simply say. “Team building, right? Let’s head off to our posts now.”

They don’t say anything about it either. Seungcheol clears his throat, creaking his body back to the direction of escape. “Y—yes. Everyone is waiting.” The rest follow. You all exit the area except for Wonwoo, who’s still doing his work. When Seungcheol turns back to check on you two— you know, just in case— he immediately regrets it.

Jeonghan is still a step behind you. But he leans slightly forward, dipping his head down to reach your ears. His mouth moves, whispering something. A silent laugh cracks through your features. A laugh. Not once has laughter occurred since the beginning of this predicament. Not a. Single. Instance. You bump your elbow against Jeonghan’s chest. Jeonghan continues to move behind you with a thin smile on his face.

He sees nothing. They see nothing. They leave the house. They immediately scatter to inhale fresh, free air.

“Hyung! Oh my god where have you guys been?! The members are waiting!”

An unspoken agreement was formed. There will be no further mention about this occurrence. Not a single word. 

*‎

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 27, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.” 

It’s the first Executive Board meeting after SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. The agenda for today is just a feedbacking session on the said event. Seungcheol yawns, not bothering to cover it up with the clipboard and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look for it. Wonwoo carries on with the roll call, one after the after stating their attendance for the meeting today. It’s the same routine for the most part. Seungcheol glances at the empty spaces on both his left and right. He taps on the table with a pen impatiently. 

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting,” Wonwoo drones one. The two seats are still empty. Seungcheol digs his pen into the wooden surface. “Vice Chairperson-External?” 

No answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?

Still no answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Chairperson, Mr. Chair?”

“Present,” Seungcheol gruffs. God damn it, where the hell are you and Jeonghan? This feels like a rerun of their group traumatic experience last week. “Proceed.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. There are twelve out of fourteen officers present. We are in quo—”

The door swings open.

You and Jeonghan enter in a hurry.

“We’re sorry we’re late!”

Again. Seungcheol feels the horrible, wrinkly slap of deja vu. His eyes follow while you and Jeonghan rush to your seats, out of breath and in a hurry. Joshua has stopped flicking origami frogs on the table. Seokmin and Mingyu pause in between chair spins. Junhui’s mouth is glued to the latte straw while darting his eyes wide back and forth, between you and Jeonghan. And Minghao cannot be bothered by any more relationship problems.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Fourteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair,” he amends. 

“Yes, thank you,” Seungcheol sighs out. “Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting?”

Much to his surprise, the meeting proceeds quite...smoothly. Wonwoo reads out the agenda. No objections. They start the feedbacking session. No problems. The incident with the closet is not even mentioned. Not once. Not even a hint despite the shared knowing looks when Seungcheol asks if there are still more matters to discuss.

“No more, Mr. Chair,” Vernon confirms. Seungcheol nods. This is going awfully well. When’s the curveball going to hit him? When? “Thank you, Mr. Auditor. Since there is nothing else on the agenda, let’s proceed to announcements.” He looks at his clipboard. There’s only one thing scribbled under announcements. It’s not his handwriting. Seungcheol squints. “Lee Chan’s...pool…barbecue...dance party on the 29th?”

There’s a pause. Seungcheol looks up from the clipboard.

“What is this?”

All eyes are on Lee Chan. He looks like he enjoys the attention. “Lee Chan’s pool barbecue dance party on the 29th,” he answers, as a matter of fact. “You’re all invited.”

This is the curveball he’s been expecting. Seungcheol feels a knot in his temples. “How many times do I have to say this?” he releases a heavy breath. “Announcements on the order of business are reserved for org-related announcements. It is not an opportunity for you to invite everyone to your parties, nor to your outings, nor to your nephew’s baptismal shower, Soonyoung.”

The man in question swallows down a gulp. Seungcheol sighs for the nth time.

“I hope that is crystal clear.” He’s so done. He’s so tired. When is adjournment coming? Why can’t it come sooner? “Anyway, do we have any other announcements? Relevant announcements, rather.” Seungcheol sees you with your arm up. He feels a rush of relief. “Yes, Ms. VCE, you are raising your hand?”

You put your hand down, allowing it to rest gingerly on the table when you say, “Thank you for the acknowledgement, Mr. Chair.” You look like your usual self— in between smiling pleasantly and staring blankly. Seungcheol nods, prodding you to continue. You do. “I would like to put the matter of my resignation on today’s table, Mr. Chair.”

“Oh, yes, the matter of your—” 

A screeching halt. Seungcheol’s tongue stops working. He stares at you, wide-eyed.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“My resignation.” You pull out a white, ghostly envelope from somewhere. His throat tightens. “I am filing it today and hoping for its immediate attention.”

It’s like time stops completely. The entire office is frozen. They wait for you to say it’s a joke. Any moment now. Please.

“Mr. Chair?” you call out. “Allow me to repeat. I will be resigning from my position as Vice Chairperson-External. What process do we need to undergo to finalize this?”

You don’t say it’s a joke. You are dead serious.

“No?!”

“Did—did I hear that right res—res—resigna—hiccup!”

“Breathe in, Seokmin. Breathe out. Yes that’s—”

“Why would you do this to us?! Why?!”

“Oh my god, it’s happening to me again, it’s happening to me again—”

“What do you mean resignation, what the hell are you talking about?” Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms against the table in distress. “Aren’t you two back together?! Why would you resign?!”

It’s a mess. It’s a room of hysteria and panic except for you, him and Jeonghan. Seungcheol is trying his best to...understand. To not throttle you and shake you violently because why? Where did he go wrong? Has he not been treating you well enough? Did he need to compliment you more? Do you need more compensation? 

Whatever the reason is, you’re looking awfully calm being the recipient of manic yells and hyperventilated cries of anguish. Jeonghan, too, is quiet. He’s just seated there, arms on the armrest, like he is in a completely different room altogether. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him. Did he do this? Did he talk you into resigning? That bastard— how could he! Seungcheol’s heart is broken, not just once, but twice. First, from his dearest protege. Second, from his (formerly) trusted right hand man.

“Ahem.”

Before things could get worse (i.e. Soonyoung and Seokmin full-on sobbing and begging on their knees), you catch their attention. You look at them, calmly, and, with a carefully enunciated voice, begin your piece that brings all of them to silence. 

“I sincerely apologize for the trouble that our personal issues have caused to SVT,” you begin, a singular glance at Jeonghan. Seungcheol bites his tongue. Traitor. Evil man. Evil jealous man. “I am well aware that my recent behavior has led to some lapses in the organization’s operations, clearly seen in the management of our latest event. We have all heard the feedback, the concerns—where things went wrong. As you have witnessed, it is quite difficult for us to separate our personal feelings from our professional work here in the org, which was the root of most of our experienced problems.” 

That is not true! No one has the best work-life balance than you! Granted, there was an issue just earlier in the month, but Seungcheol can overlook that! He can overlook it as long as you take back your resignation, and take on his spot as Chairperson next semester!

“Which is exactly why I’m resigning,” you decisively say. Shit. “There were a lot of…ingredients that eventually led to the unforeseen outburst between Mr. VCI and I during one of our previous meetings. One of those ingredients was my affiliation with the organization. The rest of the details can be found in my resignation letter. Thank you for allowing me to serve thus far.” 

It’s like a needle pricked most everyone in the room and left them deflated. Chan looks sunken. Even Jihoon. Minghao just looks like he’d been expecting this. Kim Mingyu looks like he cannot accept this.

So he jerks out of his seat, springing to his feet, and points an accusatory finger at Yoon Jeonghan.

“You!” Mingyu shrieks. “Say something!”

“Hyung,” Seokmin adds onto the pile. He’s choked up and about to cry. “Are you just gonna let this happen?”

For the first time since, Jeonghan finally speaks up. But his tone is…sourer than expected. “What do you want me to say?” he starts. It makes everyone jolt. “That you’ve been overworking my girlfriend since freshman year to the point that we started arguing about it because she’s been skipping meals and sleep and taking care of herself just to manage the org?”

Even you flinch. There’s an apologetic look on your face, but there’s no denial. 

Jeonghan lets out a sigh. Oh, Seungcheol realizes. Oh. Oh, crap. Maybe. Maybe he and SVT had a lot more to do with your breakup that he initially thought. The workload. The shit you had to catch and bury with your bare hands whenever the org had problems, had too much to do, had one person in mind to fix up any messes made. Maybe they’ve been relying on you too much. Maybe he’s been relying on you too much and Yoon Jeonghan noticed that.

Of course Jeonghan would notice that. He’s been dating you under their nose for god knows how long. That explains why Jeonghan would suddenly act pissy towards him. It was whenever you’d been tossed in a sinkhole of work.

Once more, you clear your throat. “I have immense attachment to this organization. However, my priorities have shifted. I am sincerely grateful and sorry, but I hope all of you understand.”

It starts clicking inside each head, one-by-one. It’s slow. It’s hard to accept, but they eventually do. Seokmin eventually stops sniffling. Soonyoung stands up to give you a hug. This was a loss for all of them. All of them except you and Yoon Jeonghan. 

“Hyung, but why aren’t you resigning?” 

Jun pokes the bear one last time. It’s a question in all their heads, and Jeonghan’s expression alone isn’t enough to answer it.

“Jun-ah, do you want me gone?” Jeonghan replies, a little too seriously. They freeze. Then he laughs. “It’s going to be difficult to re-elect someone at this point, so I’ll be taking over some of her workload for the remainder of the semester. The rest of you should do the same as one last thank you to our now outgoing VCE. You owe her that much, at least.”

Before Jeonghan can start nagging, you quickly overtake his field of vision from his left. “Don’t worry, I’ll be finishing up my pending tasks, Mr. Chair. I will also be leaving some notes behind for everyone’s ease of—”

“What did I tell you about being more considerate to yourself?” the one from his rightbutts in. “These kids can handle it on their own. You don’t have to micromanage them. I’m begging you, stop overworking yourself.”

Okay, he sharply inhales through his nose. Seungcheol gets it. They all get it. No need to act all sweet in front of their faces and during org hours. It’s sending shivers down his spine. All of their spines. None of this spine shivering is healthy. “Please leave your resignation letter on the table. We will give some time for the other officers to read and consider it before making a final decision during the next meeting.”

You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.”

“Thank you for your service, Ms. VCE.”

It hurts him to say this. It really does. You were the perfect successor. Now, who the hell from this pile of twelve men is he supposed to pick to be the next Chairperson? Does he have to— god forbid— retain his position?

Seungcheol lets out a sigh.

“Meeting adjourned. You are all dismissed.”

the breakup soup. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[kurusick]

♡sugar.

NSFW!mike schmidt imagines

tags- NSFW, edging, whimpering, breeding/domestication, Mike being a munch..

an: you guys ate up that fic holy shit… mike imagines to soothe the brain until my next big post 😈

★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆

★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆

mike is definitely loud during sex. Wether hes fucking into you in doggy, hands grabbing at your ass and spreading so he can watch his cock disappear inside your warm cunt.. or he’s sprawled out on the bed, you bouncing up and down on his cock, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you hear the pleas and whimpers spewing from his mouth.

“God fuck please.. I’ll be a good boy.. mmfh.. god you’re so warm and wet and god.. your tight f-fuckkkk..”

one of mikes big turn ons in bed is domestication.. he loves the thought of you pregnant.. especially seeing how you interact with abby. You’re so sweet and loving to her and god it makes him feral. whenever you’re both home and abbys asleep, mike takes you into the bedroom and fucks you full of his cum, making sure every last drop is stuffed into your tight cunt. even if you’re on the pill, the thought you could get pregnant makes him even more turned on.

“gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum yea? stuff it so far into your womb not even a drop comes out. make you a mom since you love abby so f-uucking much.”

THIS MAN EATS PUSSY!!! ALL OF IT!! this man is a pussy muncher!! he will gobble you up after a long day of work, tongue fucking you and watching you squirm. he loves to hear the lust filled sighs you let out, holding the back of his head, hands threaded through his hair while you push your cunt further into his face. Mikes eyes are on you the entire time, soaking up your facial expressions. if you close your eyes, he will make you look at him. If you don’t, he will edge you until you do.

“Baby look at me.” he licks a long stripe up from your sopping hole to ur clit, sucking on it. your eyes stay glued shut until he pulls back, breathing hot breath onto your cunt. you whimper, fluttering you pretty eyes open. He smiles, letting you grab his hair to push him back onto your throbbing clit. “There’s my girl.”

★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆

[wolviensabes]

Umm some quick thoughts since I haven't finished my smut fic yet?? Filthy thoughts under the cut lol.

18+ MDNI.

Logan would go fucking CRAZY eating you out. Can you imagine that goddamn tongue lapping you? He's like a starved man, his rough hands holding your plush thighs open as he dives right in. He sucks and flicks and teases that pretty little pearl, talking you through his ministrations as you squirm below him. "Such a sloppy pussy, my fuckin' cunt, hear me, pretty girl?" he growls at you, his fingers finding their way inside you as he sucks your clit harder to hear you cry out.

Or if you have male genitalia, he'd tease the hell out of you. His hard palms kneading your balls and stroking you to full mast while his thumb rolls over your head, spreading all your beaded precum everywhere. "You want me to suck don't you? Filthy boy...you'd love it if I took you in my mouth huh? Think it would be hot?" he grins as you continue to squirm under him, begging him for more.

He adores your scent too, regardless of what you have, this feral man will tear the blankets off you and shove his face between your thighs, inhaling your delicious scent. He sits there and smells you for minutes on end, groaning against your skin. "Fuckin' delicious, baby...m'gonna fuck you good this mornin'...it's a good way to start your day. Just lay there and let me take you, be a good girl/boy for me."

His hands massage your ass and spread you open, eyeing your ass with a chuckle. "One day I'm gonna take you here, babygirl...m'gonna make you scream while my dick claims your ass." Or if you are amab, he teases you about taking your ass, how he would stretch you out, how he would make you scream on his cock. "Tight hole, look at you...this thing is gonna be stretched out on me. I can't wait to feel you clenching my dick, pup."

Literally just him biting you all over while he's completely destroying you from behind. You are crying out loudly as he stretches you, thrusting hard enough that you swear your pelvis is gonna shatter (he has enough self control). His teeth bite your neck and he sucks so many dark marks you can't hide them no matter what. Don't you dare try to put a turtleneck on, those claws will come out and he will turn it into a v-neck.

Cigar WHILE he fucks you?? Holy shit. It hands from his teeth as he smacks your ass red and fucks you literally into the mattress, your screams of pleasure being muffled by the pillows. Luckily your wall neighbor doesn't seem to mind listening to you crying out Logan's name with each orgasm that racks through your body. Which is...a lot with Logan. Duh.

Haaa okay that's enough byeeee ~