#or go/invite the other friends. get wine drunk. cry a little.

[perigelion]

i love stomach aches <333333333 hell yeah brother lets manifest our emotions that way

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Clean Slate

Steve Harrington X Reader 

It’s summer in Chicago, 1994. Being single in the city isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You feel less strong single independent woman, and more like the lonely teenager who floated between friend groups. A blind date with a familiar face might just be the clean slate you didn’t know you needed.

Clean Slate playlist

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties. Some mentions of anxiety and feeling lonely. Other than that, flirting. Steve being dreamy. No use of Y/N and the reader is referenced as a being woman.

Author’s Note: Being in your late twenties sucks, huh? I’m just getting back into writing again, inspired by the amazing authors who have made me fall in love with Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson again and again. I had such fun writing this and fucking around on Canva 💖

Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me, that’s why it sucks)

edit: Read Pinch Me a follow up to Clean Slate

This was a bad idea. With every step you took from the subway, your desire to be back on your sofa eating pasta in your pyjamas grew more and more. A blind date? You definitely hadn’t been in your right mind when you agreed to this. Thinking back on it, when had being wine-drunk with your best friend ever cultivated a good decision?

After a steady stream of bad first dates, disappointing situationships and one walking red-flag you had called your boyfriend for eight months, Annie had finally taken pity on you and took charge of setting you up with someone. Over almost room-temperature white wine and an empty pizza box, she had made you pinky-promise to trust her as Mermaids played in the background. She couldn’t stand any longer to see you cry over preppy yuppies and wannabe grungers who only wanted to meet you to hook-up or string you along (alongside several other women who also deserved better). She had seen how deep it cut when you were stood up, left waiting by the phone by some mediocre poser who had already moved on. Slurring her words, Annie had held your tear-stained face and told you that you were wasting the best years of your life on idiots who stamped on your big heart and dimmed your light. Bolstered by her words, and more wine, you ended up dancing and scream-singing in your little studio apartment to a mixtape of songs from your college days and fell asleep on your second-hand sofa with your pinky fingers linked.

A few days later, after the hangover had subsided and you had done your best to forget your tearful confession of just how lonely you felt in the city, Annie called you up to ask if you were free on Friday night. Thinking another girl’s night was on the cards, you said yes. 

“Great. I have someone I want you to meet, he works with my brother. Does Hardy’s at 8 work for you?” 

The pinky-promise with your best friend since college could categorically not be taken back and so you found yourself reluctantly agreeing. As long as he wasn’t a murderer, or as emotionally unavailable as your last three suitors, how bad could it be? 

“Well when you fall in love and have beautiful babies, just remember who set you up, m’kay?” Annie had said when you called her up, considering cancelling. “You’re going!”

After going away to college from your small town upbringing, a move to Chicago was supposed to be the ultimate dream, but inside you still felt like the awkward teenager from Hawkins, Indiana. The outsider at every party, every hang-out at the mall or the arcade. The add-on to every friend group who said ‘you can come with us if you want to’ instead of an actual invitation. When you called your mom on the phone, she insisted that you had it all, that you were a real modern woman. She had been married and was already a mother at your age, and she was proud that you had the opportunity to be the bright independent woman you always wanted to be. It just didn’t seem so shiny now that it was your reality. 

With the bar in your sights, you took a deep breath and swiped the tiny beads of sweat that gathered over the bridge of your nose. Summer in the city was heavy with humidity; you could feel the lining of your long slip dress clinging to your thighs, riding up under the delicate black floral. The claw-clip holding up your hair was truly doing the lord's work, keeping your freshly washed blow-dry blind date-ready. 

You knew very little about your date - his name was Steve, he was a teacher with great hair. He was going to be wearing a blue shirt and would be on the lookout for the girl with the pink rose embroidered on her bag. Your entire outfit had been put together around the one piece you loved that could be picked out in the Friday night crowd of the bar. Classic first date; Annie was committed to helping you live the rom-com fantasy you deserved.

Des’ree’s words of wisdom, and your best friend’s blunt insistence that you were a hot bitch, echoed in your head as you took a moment to compose yourself and let your hair down over your clammy neck. Inside the bar was barely any cooler as you made your way through the stragglers from after-work drinks mingling with those who were just starting their night out. The desire to go home had never been stronger as you propped yourself by the jukebox and waited, trying not to cringe as you thought about what you looked like to the couples and groups of friends drinking and laughing around you. It felt far too similar to the house parties of your youth. What if he didn’t turn up? Or worse, what if he did and turned on his heel after realising you were his date? What could be best described as an overwhelming feeling of dread crept over you as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying not to look too eager for the mystery that was Steve. 

Hearing your name brought you back to reality and out of your doom-spiral. As if. Steve Harrington was making his way over, the crowd parting with ease for him. Surely you had hit your head and this was some sort of dream…

“Hey…” A smile crept onto his face as his eyes darted between you and the beacon that was the rose embroidered on your bag. A city of millions and your blind date was the boy who had defended your honour at the age of five years old after Daniel P. pushed you in the playground; Steve had called him a ‘butthead’ and told Mrs Holland on the other boy.

You hoped that the dim light of the bar hid your pink cheeks as Steve stopped in front of you, looking even more dreamy than he had at junior prom. The blue shirt made him glow golden, fitting just right over the breadth of his shoulders. His hair was coiffed perfectly, defying humidity and gravity and giving him a few more inches of height. 

“Steve..” You couldn’t help a shaky laugh as the realisation washed over you both. It was easier to tune out the rest of the bar as he pulled you in for a quick but tight hug. You could have sighed at the feeling of his arms around you; you might have done just that, melted into a puddle of a girl had he not peeled away to get a good look at you. An irritating little pocket of anxiety in your chest could hardly believe he remembered you. 

“Nice bag. I think you’re the girl I’ve been looking for.” 

You felt like you could swoon. Or moan. Steve Harrington was effortlessly charming, more so than when he reigned in Hawkins High. Losing his crown had humbled him, that and working retail in your dead-end hometown. He looked genuinely pleased to see you, someone familiar in a city of strangers. You feel your teeth sink into the dusty-rose of your lip as you smile. 

“Thanks.” You will your voice not to shake as your heart pounds hard. “Annie told me you had great hair. I should’ve known it was going to be you.”

His laugh is soft, but you can still hear it over the music and voices in the bar. With one huge gentle hand on your elbow, he steers you to the bar to order drinks, standing close enough to see the sprinkling of moles and freckles on his neck and cheek and the hair peeking from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. Steve Harrington was a man now, all grown up. 

“She did, huh? I think I’ve met her once, I work with her brother,” Steve edges closer so that you could hear him. “How long’ve you been in Chicago?” 

“She didn’t even know you were ‘The Hair’.” You smiled and felt the weight of his gaze; you couldn’t ignore the sparkling feeling in your tummy. “Um I left Hawkins in ‘86, went to college in Indy. Moved here in ‘93.” Steve leans in to hear you, nodding as you count up the years in your head. “You’re a teacher? So are you more Scott Clark or Coach Kelly?” 

Steve laughs again and shakes his head as he pays for your drinks. “Neither. Maybe a little Clarke, without the sweater vests. I teach third grade so they would definitely roast me if I did.” He runs a hand through his hair, smirking, “But I do coach basketball after school too, you got me.” He spots a seat and steers you to a little high-top table, pulls out the stool for you before sitting opposite, visibly relaxed. There’s something about how you have bypassed the awkward introductions part of the date that makes you feel a little more at ease. But this is Steve Harrington. Any minute now he’ll make a polite excuse to leave after remembering how bookish and weird you were in school. 

Except he doesn’t. 

“I still can’t believe it’s you. You look great,” he says, not trying to flirt too hard. Steve is looking at you like he’s happy you’re here. Happy you’re his date. 

“I can’t believe you remember me. I was.. so boring,” you laugh at your own expense before sipping your drink, looking at the ice clicking against the glass. 

“Quiet maybe. Not boring though,” he ducked his head, making you look into his golden brown eyes. “Hey. Clean slate? That’s why we left Hawkins. If you can forget how much of an ass I was in high school, I can forget…” Steve pauses and hums as he thinks back. 

Forgettable. Unremarkable. That’s how you felt, blending into the background everywhere you went. You hadn’t been a cheerleader, or even a band-geek. Yeah you went to parties, but usually left early. You didn’t monologue on the lunchroom tables or get detention, and in the one play you auditioned for, they asked you to paint the sets - you couldn’t fade any further into the background if you tried. 

And Steve had never been an ass to you; his kingly confidence had burned fast and bright in the school halls until his fall from grace. He had always been polite, kind even; he asked to borrow a pen a few times, scolded Carol Perkins when she pushed past you and made you drop your lunch one time. He did just enough on a group project on Macbeth to keep him on your good side…

“Huh.” Steve frowns, looking a little fond as you snap yourself back to reality. “I can’t remember anything embarrassing about you. All good.” 

Your cheeks flamed and you couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that bubbled up from your chest. “Smooth, Harrington. Wow, remind me how you’re single?” He was definitely just being nice. You could remind him about the time you drank way too much peach schnapps and lemonade at Tammy Thompson’s 18th birthday and had to be picked up by your mom, or when you said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’ in ninth grade - both of which still haunted you when you tried to fall asleep. But Steve just grins back at you. 

“I mean it! You had that pink scrunchie permanently attached to your body, and a little snort laugh. Totally cute, not embarrassing at all.” He stays smiling as he sips his beer, seeing how you’re stunned that he remembers. Not smug, totally hot and he’s not even trying. You’re aghast.

“You remember my fucking scrunchie…?”  “If you tell me you still have it…” “Steve, it’s literally on my bedside table.”

Steve’s laughter makes you join in, snorting involuntarily as your shoulders shake, which just makes him laugh more. It's been a long time since a date made you laugh like this, let alone feel like you’re floating. 

When you both settle, Steve reaches over and takes your hand. You remember how you had wondered how holding his hand might feel when you saw him walk Nancy Wheeler to class way back when. It felt better than you ever dreamed it might. 

“Hey. Lemme tell you something, when I saw you over there I wanted to come right up and say hi. And then I saw your bag…it made my week.” 

Butterflies soar in your belly and you feel your cheeks heat up again. “Steve..”

“But just know, I thought you were cute in school. I just.. had my own shit going on and I was pretty shitty for a few years. So if you can give a reformed asshole a chance, I’d love to hear about how you’ve been, and actually get to know you.”

Steve squeezes your hand as CeCe Peniston sings Finally to the bar. The song totally sinks in now as you squeeze Steve’s hand in return, making him beam a smile your way. 

“Okay, Clean slate. But Steve? I totally had a crush on you. Even when you were doing keg stands and goofing around in math.” You make him smile even brighter, even as he shakes his head. 

“So cute. Damn, you’re definitely trouble.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You raise a brow and sip your drink again, feeling less anxious now. The drink helped, but knowing that you could make an impression on Hawkins High royalty was certainly bolstering. 

“One question. Very important.” You straighten up before leaning toward him, almost conspiratorially. You don’t miss how his eyes dip to your lips before meeting your gaze. 

“Go for it.” “Are you sure about the sweater vests? I think you could really make them work.”

Now it’s your turn to grin into your glass as Steve throws his head back. “Oh I’m so in trouble with you.” 

He lifts his glass, meeting you in the middle to clink it against yours with a signature Steve Harrington wink. Maybe something good could come from a wine-soaked pinky promise.

bonus Steve inspo for the girlies who made it to the end - ily💖

[darlingsfandom]

You admitting your feels drunk at a party to both of your bffs Steve and Eddie

gif credit: @his-name-is-ed

loud music, free alcohol and bodies upon bodies was not your idea of a good time but since Steve and Eddie invited you to the party you couldn't say no. They're you're best friends so how could you say no?

You stood in the corner of the room watching people dance, sit, drink and one guy trip over his own two feet, surprisingly enough it wasn't eddie for once. You were out of your element but again you were trying to break out of that comfort and support you friends even if you weren't sure why this counts as support.

"Hey.. pretty... laaady!" A drunk man stumbled up to you swishing the liquid around in his red solo cup. You stood up straight as he lingered in your face. Luckily you could see Steve leaning against the stair case talking to. It was as if Steve could read your mind because next thing you knew Steve was behind the guy tapping his shoulder.

"My I ask why you're bothering her?" Steve puffed up his chest as little while tilting his head to the side.

"Why?? She your girl or something?? " the guy gave you a toothy smile and a poor excuse for a wink making you twist your face in disgust.

"Exactly she is!" You weren't but you'd take it if it meant getting away from the drunken loser. Steve grabbed your hand and lead you away from him towards Eddie. Steve held your hand tightly before wrapping his hands around your waist to make it look like you were a couple since the dunk loser was still watching. Normally you weren't one for drinking , but you grabbed Eddie's beer from his hand causing him to pout before he watched you chug the rest of it down in less than ten seconds. "Damn! That's my babe!" Eddie was proud as he pinched your cheeks before walking away to get another beer. Steve helped you sit down on the staircase before sitting down next to you.

Eddie showed up with two beers and a wine cooler. He gave you the beer and Steve the cooler. You once again chugged half the bottle. "Sweetheart what's going on with you? You don't normally drink." Eddie furrowed his eyebrows together before sitting on the step below you and Steve. You finished up your bottle before wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

"I... I'm not sure how to put this..." you sighed before leaning into Steve' with a small pout on your lips. "I have feelings and lots of them!" You hiccuped with tears on the edge of your eyes. "And they're very strong but okay I ... like like the both of you!" You blurted out before Steve and Eddie started to chuckle. "Hey!! Don't , don't make ... don't laugh!" You pouted before swatting both of them in the chest.

"We're not laughing at you baby, it's just... we both had a feeling." Eddie tipped his bottle at you before he finished it off.

"Eddie's right, the way you watch us all the time, the way your cheeks turn pink when we make something sexual remark about you, the way you get sad when we're not with you all the time. The way you look at us with innocent eyes. Basically anything you do for us, but you know..." Steve leaned in closer. "You're not very quiet and we can hear what you're doing at night to yourself crying our names." Your jaw dropped as your cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink that Steve just mentioned.

"But don't worry pretty baby, we like like you too!" Eddie rubbed your knee slowly before sitting up on one knee and looked at Steve before they smiled at each other, then you and leaned in to kiss each cheek at the same time.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

How the Marauders & Co. would help you out when you are sad about a problem.

James Potter: He would try to tell you jokes, silly jokes, make silly faces, do silly stuff like tripping or acting like a goof to make you laugh or stop crying. And when you finally tell him what is going on, he would try to fix your problem, if someone hurt you, he would be like: "I swear I am going to kick this person's ass the next time I see them". Which makes you laugh at the end and you feel better.

Sirius Black: He would try to distract you. He would take you out for some icecream, or to a club to get drunk, or he would invite you dinner. You know, do something crazy. He would make sure you have fun and forget for a while about your problem. And by the end of the day, you get drunk with him and remember it, you start crying. He would give a tight hug.

Remus Lupin: He would listen you speak about your problem. He would let you feel the pain or worry you are going through. And the only thing he would do would be hugging you, giving you chocolate and telling you "I understand. I am here for you". You end up crying so much until you get tired and cuddle between his arms, falling asleep. But you feel understood, not like an alien for suffering like that.

Peter Pettigrew: He would listen to you. He is a good listener. But while you speak and cry, you would notice him getting distracted. Not because he is not interested in what you are saying. But because he is thinking on what to do to make you feel better or what advice to give you. And you notice he gets so nervous that he ends up saying something silly, the worse advice you could ever hear. And you end up laughing anyway because Peter is adorable. You know he is a good friend that tries.

Lily Evans: She would be the best person to go to for good advice. She would prepare you tea or a little dessert. She would sit with you and listen to every word you have to say, looking at you all the time. And when you are done telling her, she would hug you. And she would tell you the best advice you could hear while stroking your hair. You would feel better because Lily would make you feel that the problem is not that bad and could be fixed.

Marlene Mckinnon: Alcohol would be involved with her. She would serve a cup for you and herself. Then she would sit down and listen to you speak. Do not be surprised if she curses a lot while you talk. If you start crying, she would whisper "Fuck, no, no, no, no..." while she wipes the tears from your cheeks. And by the end of it, she would end up crying with you. She would say "Fuck, this is not fair. You don't deserve this". Or something like that. And both of you would cry until you end up laughing.

Mary Macdonald: She would listen to you, stroking your back. Then she would curse and distract you with a lot of gossip, a story that happened to her, some random thing she saw on the T.V. the other day. A make over session might be involved. Then you would end up drinking wine with her and judging people's feeds and outfits online and laughing so hard your tummy aches.

Dorcas Meadowes: They are very good giving advice. Just imagine they would listen to you, nodding a lot and making a lot of faces. And then they would quote a book, a celebrity, or a movie with the best advice you could hear. They make problems feel like something silly to suffer about, something that is easy to solve. And when you ask them about their life and if they solve their problems they would avoid the question. Also, if you try to hug them, they would refuse. But then you end up hugging them because you are grateful and they love it.

Regulus Black: He would very uncomfortable with you crying, with your problem. At first he tries to invent an excuse to why he cannot help you because he is busy or something. But then you start talking and crying, and he starts listening and getting very invested. He asks you questions. Only a few questions. And by the time you are done, he hugs you. You are surprised because he never does that. He gives you a quick tight hug and immediately pulls away and hids his tears. You smile because you know he loves you and cares. Your problem might not be solved but that is enough.

Barty Crouch Jr: He would be terrible at listening and giving advice. He would interrupt you a lot. And make very innapropiate jokes for the situation you are going through. And when you start to feel irritated and try to leave, he would grab your wrist and be like: "Y/N, I'm sorry. I am not good dealing with feelings. But just know I am here for you". You smile. You know that. But better go cry and ask for advice from someone else.

Pandora Lovegood: She is an absolute angel. She would listen to your problem while stroking your hair gently, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful human being. She has such intense stare, that you blush or feel uncomfortable. She would gasp and hum a lot while you speak. And when you are done, she would smile, nod and start talking about the most random thing. She would tell you facts about animals, plants, history, celebrities. And it so random that you end up being distracted. By the end, she would whisper: "Not everything is as bad as you thought, right?". You realize the world is wonderful and your problem is tiny and silly. You feel better after all.

[ofchaotics]

💕 ( avery & rue i BEG )

AVERY & MATEO . . .

How did they meet? at some industry party.... and mateo probably made a fool of himself

Who flirted with who first? mateo...... stumbling and drunk azheo

Was it love at first sight or a slowburn romance? can i say both???? CAN I SAY BOTH???? he didn’t admit it to himself for a while but... it was there..

Did they start dating right away or were they friends before things became romantic? they’ve always had a ...... questionable dynamic even as friends 

What was their first date? why do i wanna say it was the night she came over and mateo played her a song he wrote for her . .. . . . . . . bc . .. . . . sobs

What are their favourite things to do on date nights? wreck havoc. ruin people’s days.

Do they still go on dates after being together for a while? all the time... he be wining and dining this woman consistently .

What is their love language? chaos and bullying

Who kissed who first? i wanna say avery.... just bc... big top energy

Who started the relationship? mateo.... 

Monogamy or Polyamory? mateo too hostile to share avery SAWWWRRYYY

Are they/do they plan on getting married? yes <3

Who proposed? Was it a yes or no? mateo gonna propose n she betta SAY YES !

Do they want kids? Who brought it up first? mateo does, but he’s made peace with it potentially never happening................

Do they already have kids, together or from previous relationships? negative

Do they have any routines/rituals in their relationship? chaos and havoc.... but no fr i feel like they do their skincare routines side by side every night and every morning......... cute..

How do they take care of each other when they are sick/hurt? they really do baby the shit out of each other whenever the other feels bad.

How do they like to spend time together? concerts, art shows, museums, late night snack runs.

What are their favourite non-sexual forms of intimacy? hands in the hair, holding hands.

What are some of their favourite things about their partner? mateo is so violently obsessed with avery that everything about her has him giggling and swinging his feet, and i feel like the feeling is mutual LMFAO

How do they comfort the other when they are upset? they talk about it, or sit in silence in each other’s arms. group cry sessions yknow

Who buys the other spontaneous gifts? mateo.... so annoying about it....

What position do they sleep in? mateo always wants to be little spoon but his tall ass is usually the big spoon LMAO

Do they bathe/shower together? absolutely 

Do they do anything else in the bath/shower other than wash? they do be fucking...

In the bedroom - Vanilla, a little spice, or kinky af? HAHHAHAHAHAHAHA is this even a fucking question???????

For applicable ships - who tops/bottoms? avery and her big top energy.... sometimes they switch it up... SOMETIMES...

For applicable ships - who is more dominant/submissive? girl is this even a question bye

What is their favourite sex position? mateo biased as hell . . . . anytime he’s just getting his shit rocked amen 

Do either of them enjoy bringing sex toys into the bedroom? ...... yes......

Favourite place to have sex? anywhere and everywhere rip

Most adventurous place they’ve had sex? they be fuckin everywhere.... be fr..... 

How often do they fight? What about? not very often lmfao and it’s probably just over extremely trivial or mundane things .

Have they ever broken up? NEVA EVA!!!! 

Messy breakup, amicable split, remain friends, ride or die or til death do us part? they’re endgame srry friend...

RUE & MATEO . . .

How did they meet? through dakota... probably at some party

Who flirted with who first? mateo lmfao 

Was it love at first sight or a slowburn romance? mateo was whipped from the START 

Did they start dating right away or were they friends before things became romantic? laughs violently.......... mateo invited himself into dakota and rue’s relationship

What was their first date? mateo taking her to some super lowkey screening for some movie.. like their first one on one date.. sob sob

What are their favourite things to do on date nights? also wrecking havoc and ruining people’s days

Do they still go on dates after being together for a while? their dates mostly consist of them getting high tbh

What is their love language? words of affirmation and physical touch

Who kissed who first? mateo :>

Who started the relationship? mateo........ pushy ass...

Monogamy or Polyamory? squints.. is this a question...... 

Are they/do they plan on getting married? they’d definitely have to flee to utah or something 

Who proposed? //

Do they want kids? Who brought it up first? neither one of them is ready for that yet LMFAO

Do they already have kids, together or from previous relationships? negative

Do they have any routines/rituals in their relationship? getting high and watching shitty horror movies, and bullying dakota.

How do they take care of each other when they are sick/hurt? mateo hovering over her every move making sure she’s okay, bringing her food n washing her hair.........

How do they like to spend time together? parties and sleepovers, movie dates.

What are their favourite non-sexual forms of intimacy? mateo’s fav thing is when rue lays her head on his lap....... so cute....

What are some of their favourite things about their partner? mateo luvs rue’s sense of humor.... the way he just giggles at everything she says....

How do they comfort the other when they are upset? mateo’s always too willing to beat up anyone who upsets her, to which she has to calm him down and they just get high and forget about it.

Who buys the other spontaneous gifts? mateo bringing her weed and booze...... his token of affection...

What position do they sleep in? lanky ass mfers just limbs everywhere 

Do they bathe/shower together? yes <3

Do they do anything else in the bath/shower other than wash? they, too, do be fucking...

In the bedroom - Vanilla, a little spice, or kinky af? AGAINNNNN IS THIS A QUESTION

For applicable ships - who tops/bottoms? mateo the top here i fear

For applicable ships - who is more dominant/submissive? once again.... mateo in his dom era

What is their favourite sex position? missionary just bc mateo likes looking at her <3

Do either of them enjoy bringing sex toys into the bedroom? ...... yes......

Favourite place to have sex? in his car LMFAO

Most adventurous place they’ve had sex? they be fuckin everywhere.... be fr.....

How often do they fight? What about? mateo more than likely gets upset with her if she gets too carried away with the drugs n shit

Have they ever broken up? never ever ever

Messy breakup, amicable split, remain friends, ride or die or til death do us part? they too are endgame <3

[munsonsduchess]

I am back Duchess. I am going to claim an emoji so you know when it is me, and considering I spill all the tea, I'll choose this ☕ (which may or may not be coffee but).

So it is i, who am I? Remember the anon who made out with the guy, who had a friend who liked that guy but was married, and that she had tried to push me to a different guy (Jake) until that guy was a little bit creepy? Yeah hi its me. I mentioned how I was visiting my friend, and she was gonna throw a party?

Well I've taken a few days to process everything. And now im here.

So 1) not quite a party but people were around and we all did hang out. 2) there was a new guy, but not the one my friend wanted me to meet. No, no, no. New guy, going to call Aaron, works with her husband and was invited by her husband. He is nice i guess? I didnt talk to him one on one much, but he was very rambunctious. Apparently, my friend thinks he likes me. I declined for her to give this guy my number. At the end of the night, he shook my hand and said it was nice to meet me. It ended awkwardly because he kept holding my hand and I just kind of nodded. My friend thinks there could be potential, I disagree. 3) the guy she wanted to introduce me to, we will call Brad. Brad sounds like a bad idea. Thus the name Brad, as thats the last guy I tries dating and it was a bad idea.

Why is Brad a bad idea? Well well well, thank GOD he was not there. Because, if he was, I probably would have had a meltdown. Why? Turns out HE IS RELATED TO THE GUY I MADE OUT WITH (we are going to go through the ABCs so the dude i made out with is going to be Cole, if I make it all the way to Jake I will probably cry so there is A, B, C and J im) yes. Brad is related to Cole. I did not know that. They don't look relatively alike to me. Regardless, apparently they are. Not only that, but my Friend was telling me about Brad. Brad goes to a wine club once a month, he's in a book club, and he apparently likes those cheese and meet board things. Now, I like books, however I cant stand wine. Hate it. Its too dry. I'd much rather have vodka or a good bourbon. My Friend knows this. Apparently also, as I saw some messages between them two, he calls his mom every day as well as is planning to start online gaming? And eventually quit their job to do fulltime? Which, I do not care for either of those (being a grown adult and having to call your parent every day is something im not keen on). I also am not keen on someone quitting their job just to be an online gamer (but that may because i have talked to a few guys like that before and they have all screwed me over).

thankfully, Brad was not there. Going to point 4) Cole. Guy I made out with. He was there briefly before having to go to work. We didn't get a chance to talk but he smiled and waved at me, also blushed whilst doing. This man has gotten more fine. I hate myself. He was more attractive this time then last and I hate it. I walked to the kitchen to get a snack but had gotten stopped by someone,, and he slid by me as he was leaving, and gently moved me to the side, putting his hands on my hips. We looked into each other's eyes and we both smiled and blushed. The person who stopped me made a comment on the chemistry between us. So that made me awkward.

So long story short, nothing at all happened. My Friend may or may not have brought Cole up multiple times, making me wonder if she still likes Cole. Oh and her husband broke up a fight between two drunk people and kicked them out, that was very entertaining but I have 0 clue what their names were or how they knew them.

So that is the update for now.

It took me a while to get around to this but I am ready to spill the tea.

This is wild honestly

Aaron seems. Nice. That’s about all I can say on that front, the hand holding thing is a little weird but maybe he’s just not great with social cues. Who knows

Brad however. Oh. Those are some big old red flags. The fact that you guys do not seem to have anything in common but books, the whole online gaming as a career thing. There’s a reason why that doesn’t work out for most people. You have to do your full time job and make online gaming your full time job to even get anywhere.

I used to live with someone who quit their full time job for the same reason. Their whole thing was that they were going to be a streamer and get so much money, they were gonna get so hot and then everyone would sub to them and yeah. No.

Look a shark coochie board is just a boujee lunchable for adults. That’s all it is. I will stand by that. It’s cheese, meat and crackers. It’s a lunchable.

I mean it’s nice(?) that he calls his mum so often. A bad relationship with parents for seemingly no reason is a big red flag of mine so the fact that he’s got a decent relationship with his mum seems like a good thing to me.

The whole related to Cole thing is a minefield. I would stay so clear of that. For your own sanity.

Your friend bringing up Cole a lot makes me think she’s trying to suss out what your feelings are for him so she can figure her own stuff out based on what you say. Again. Minefield.

Seems like it was one hell of a gathering tho.

[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[likeitloveitblogit]

Just Hold Me

I had a dream that got stuck in my brain, so I decided to turn it into a Loki x fem!reader fanfic. Here it is. Please be gentle this is the first but of my writing I've shared.

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Summary: After a rough battle fighting with the Avengers you skip the party to recover in your room at the Avengers tower. There you're visited by a drunk Thor and a comforting Loki.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: non consensual kissing, mention of assault, pain, mention of death, they all need therapy

What to expect: Me turning a dream into a Loki fluff therapy session.

From your room in the Avengers tower you could still hear the sounds of the party. Another victory for the team meant another raging party to celebrate. You loved a good party, but you had taken a few too many hits during the mission and had chosen to head back to your room.

A knock sounded at your door, "Y/N, are you there?" You heard the gruff voice of Thor.

The god of thunder and his brother Loki had become members of the team after defeating the Dark Elves in London. There had been a drunken night when Loki confessed to you he had considered faking his own death and stealing the throne of Asgard. But Loki had chosen to help fight, winning the battle and the approval of the Avengers. Not everyone had accepted them completely, but you understand that people were capable of change and had become friends with the pair.

"Y/N?!?" Thor called again, pounding a little harder on the door.

You rise from your bed and walk to the door, opening it you find a very clearly drunk Thor. It took a great deal of drinking to get the god drunk. You chuckle thinking about how much he must have consumed, but then notice that his eyes are full of tears.

"Thor, what's wrong?"

"Can I come in?"

Normally you didn't let anyone into your room. You were a fairly open person, happy to share, but your room was your safe place to get away and recharge. Standing there, leaning slightly against your door frame Thor looked completely broken, so you open the door and gesture for him to enter. Leaving the door open you follow Thor into the room.

You weren't sure how to handle having a guest in your room. But Thor walked over and sat on your bed, like he owned the place. "I'm sorry to bother you, I just, I was at that party and everything was good. You know we had that Asgardian wine brought in, so much better than anything here on Midgard. But then I saw a woman in the crowd that looked just like her. And I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe she had only faked it, maybe she'd just been lost and now she'd come to find me. I ran over to her, but the woman was just some stranger."

From your spot learning against the wall you asked, "Who do you mean? Jane?"

"Ha, I've lost her too. I seem to lose everyone I care about. But no. I thought I saw my mother"

That broke your heart. That same drunken night when Loki had confessed thinking of faking his own death, you two had also talked about Frigga's death. Unsure how to comfort the god then you had sat with Loki, holding his hand while he cried. Loki had been so close with Frigga, a part of Loki had changed when the guard had delivered the news of her death. Being in prison unable to even attend the funeral had stirred a desire to be a better person in Loki.

Even though you had seen Loki's grief, somehow Thor had seemed stronger, less affected, but Frigga was his mother, too. The loss of a parent is a terrible thing to deal with no matter how strong of a person you might appear to be. And clearly alcohol made the Asgardians emotional wrecks, because here now was the god of thunder sitting on your bed, body racking with sobs.

You sat down next to Thor, reaching to take his hand. Instead Thor pulled you into a crushing hug. Your first instinct was to pull away from the pain, you had really taken a beating in that fight. But Thor was your friend and he was hurting inside, so you relaxed. Rubbing circles on his back, you whispered "it's ok, you're ok" while you let him cry on your shoulder. The two of you sat like that for a long while before Thor released his hold on you.

You were about to ask Thor if he was feeling better, when he looked down at you and leaned in to kiss you. A million thoughts ran through your brain all at once. Fear struck you the strongest, and you scrambled away, backing up until your back was against the headboard. "What are you doing?"

"Um, kissing you," Thor said as he crawled toward you, hovering over you he leaned to try and kiss you.

"Well, stop it" you put your arms in front of your face trying to push him away. "Stop it, stop it, stop it"

Thor's strong arms easily push your own hands out of the way. But just as Thor leaned in towards you, he was ripped from on top of you.

Frightened, you look up to see Loki shoving Thor away, placing himself between you and Thor. "The lady told you to stop. What has gotten into you brother?"

"You don't know anything stupid brother, just leave us alone" Thor lunges for Loki, but Thor is still far too intoxicated to stand a chance in a fight. Loki easily pushes back and Thor nearly crashes into the wall.

Before Thor can lunge again Loki summons a pair of daggers and points then at Thor. "Brother you're drunk. You need to calm down. I don't want to hurt you, but if you try to hurt Y/N, I'll have no choice."

"Brother you wouldn't dare."

Loki points the daggers more directly at Thor "I don't know what is happening here but you know that I will do anything to defend a lady's honor."

"Oh, so you're just such a hero now? A perfect little prince charming? You're not defending anything. You're just jealous because Y/N invited me into her room and not you."

You stand up, careful to stay behind Loki. "Thor, nothing was going to happen between us. You came to me, crying and I offered you a hand to hold because I knew you missed your mother. You hugged me and I let you because you are my friend. But that's it. You are my friend and I don't want any more than that. You should thank Loki for keeping you from doing something you'd have regretted."

"You think I'd regret kissing you?"

"No, I think you'd regret kissing someone who didn't want to be kissed. You'd regret taking advantage of someone you cared about."

"I, I thought you'd want to kiss me"

"You buffoon, not everyone wants to have their face crushed in by your giant head."

"Hush Loki," you walk toward Thor, Loki tries to pull you back behind him but you touch his arm gently, and step forward. "Thor you know I do care about you, but I don't feel that way about you. Look, I know you have had a lot to drink tonight. And you have a lot of emotions running through you. I mean you thought you saw your mother, that has to be really hard to deal with. But you made a mistake."

"I thought, I just. Uh, I'm sorry"

"I know. Right now I think it is best if you go back to your room, get some sleep, and we can talk more in the morning, once you're sober."

"But,"

"You heard her brother. She is giving you a very generous offer. If you don't accept and leave now, I will make you. And I won't be nice about it."

With a final look at you, Thor leaves your room.

Once Loki is sure that Thor is gone, he sets his daggers down and turns to you. You register that he chose to set them down rather than magic then away, but chart it away as a question for later.

Approaching you, hands raised like you are an animal he is afraid to spook Loki asks, "Y/N, are you ok?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." Which is a lie, you're anything but ok. Unsteady on your feet, you nearly collapse.

Loki reaches to catch you and leads you to sit on the bed, "oh Y/N, what did he do to you? I'll kill him if he has hurt you."

"Thank you, but I'm actually just a little worse off than I thought from that fight today. All this has just made me extra aware of how tired I am."

"I'll go get Banner or Strange, or one of the others."

"No," you reach and grab onto his arm.

He looks down at the way your hands tremble as they hold onto his arm. "But, Y/N, you are unwell."

"I'm not sick. I'm not injured, well not more than normal after a fight. I'm just tired. Honest."

"Well then I'll leave you to rest"

But you only hold more tightly, "please don't"

"Don't what?" His breath catches as he looks down into your eyes.

"Please don't leave me. I don't, I don't want to be alone right now."

"Ok, I'll stay." Loki sits next to you, shifting his arm to take your hand. You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the interlocking of your fingers with his.

"Thank you."

"Thor is a buffoon, but I don't think he meant to harm you. He's not used to anyone not wanting him. Not that what he did was ok. I'm not trying to say it was ok."

"Loki, I know. I understand that he was hurting. And I guess I'm a beacon of comfort and he mistook that for romantic attraction. Honestly I think he would have stopped once he realized what he was doing. But I'm still so glad you were there."

Despite Loki's comforting hold, and the circles he was tracing with his long thumb, your hands still shook. "Y/N is there something more bothering you?"

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. "When I saw your brother crawling towards me, I got so scared. I didn't see Thor, my friend. I saw that crazy guy from the factory today."

You could feel the moment the switch clicked and rage burned in Loki, "Wait did something happen? I don't remember a guy. Did this guy…, did he …, do something to you? I will end him."

"Oh Loki, my sweet murderous Loki. You actually already did."

"What?"

"You probably don't even remember, it was the heat of the battle. I'd gone in to clear the next room when I got knocked down and bumped my head. When I woke up, one of the baddies was dragging me by my ankle into the office, muttering about a sweet reward. How much fun he was going to have with me. He was reaching for me when you stormed in. I don't think you even saw me behind the desk, but you grabbed the guy before he could touch me. I didn't see what you did to him, but I heard it and it sounded very bloody."

"Oh gods, Y/N, I had no idea you were there in the back office. That guy looked deranged, even if we hadn't all been given orders to kill on sight I would have killed that man. If I'd known you were there I'd have made sure you were ok."

"I hid under the desk until you'd left and then I ran straight back to the jet. I felt so bad for not helping more with the fight, but…"

"Y/N, no one would ever blame you for running. That's not something anyone should have to face. Oh gods, and then my stupid brother had to come in and loom over you."

"He didn't know."

"No but that doesn't mean it wasn't terrifying, just the same."

You can't find the right words, and simply give a small nod. After a second of silence the question pops back into your brain. "Why did you leave your daggers on my nightstand? Why didn't you magic then away like you normally do?"

"Oh, uh, I was going to offer to let you borrow them. Just in case Thor tried to come back and visit."

"That's really sweet, but I've never been good with knives. I don't know if I'd even know what to do with them."

"Hmm well is there anything I can do to make you feel safer?"

There was a moment when you thought about saying, no. Telling Loki you'd be safe with his daggers, and sending him back to his room. But you couldn't do it. You could not send Loki away. Not when he felt like the only safe thing in the world. A breath of air after you'd been drowning all night. So you asked what you really wanted, not caring that it made you feel vulnerable.

"Can you hold me?"

"Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes I'm sure. I mean if you don't want to, I won't make you."

Loki gingerly wraps his arms around you, until you squeeze him half to death and he returns with a proper hug. Still holding you he says "I just didn't know if you'd want to be touched after… today and then my brother"

"You are not a brutish villain and you are not your brother. Do not take this as anything but a compliment, but right now the fact that you're not a big oversized muscle man is really comforting. And well neither men got the chance to do anything because of you."

"Y/N, I am so sorry you had to go through all of this. But I'm really happy that you find me comforting. I have done some terrible things that I deeply regret. And I've been afraid for so long that I'd never be able to find someone who felt safe around me."

"Everyone in this tower has done things that they can't take back. Things they regret. Including myself." You breathe in the scent of Loki, winter frost mixed with leather and metal, wondering when that scent had become so comforting to you. "But for right now, your arms feel like home and I don't want to ever leave."

"I will be here to hold you as long as you need."

"I'm going to take you up on that offer, because I might have a concussion, so you're going to have to watch me to make sure I don't die while I sleep."

"Humans are far too fragile."

"That we are. But that's an issue to deal with another day. Right now I just need you to hold me." You whisper as you lie yourself down, pulling Loki down with you. Carefully he wraps his arms around you pulling your little spoon body against his own big spoon body. Listening intently to your breathing as you drift asleep, Loki decides that he never wants to stop holding you.

[seita]

the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie​ 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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collab masterlist!

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita. 

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together. 

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer. 

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over. 

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table. 

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party. 

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio. 

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that. 

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her. 

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single. 

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality. 

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe. 

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic. 

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed. 

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too. 

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed. 

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them. 

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours. 

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her. 

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber. 

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his. 

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing. 

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you. 

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it. 

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you. 

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that. 

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone. 

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead. 

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you. 

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator. 

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair. 

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal. 

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman. 

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana. 

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory. 

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance. 

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed. 

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you? 

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked. 

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move. 

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive. 

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation. 

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player. 

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast. 

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you. 

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room. 

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart. 

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you. 

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar. 

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock. 

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge. 

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever. 

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him. 

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again. 

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss. 

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist. 

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him. 

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed. 

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity. 

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance. 

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent. 

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out. 

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching. 

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely. 

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy. 

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt. 

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips. 

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

[clusterbuck]

i want you by my side (so that i never feel alone)

(3.2k, rated T, complete) read it on ao3

Eddie sits in his pew and tries to remind himself that he is in the lord’s house, and that he should really at least make an effort to keep his thoughts respectful.

It’s hard, though, when Buck is at the altar standing up as Maddie’s best man, wearing a suit that should honestly be illegal.

It’s only now, sitting in church trying not to blaspheme, that Eddie realises he’s become desensitised to Buck’s whole… everything. Buck in his firefighter uniform is a lot to take in, but Eddie’s trained himself to look past it. Mostly because he doesn’t ever want to have to explain to Bobby that he missed something on a call because he was distracted by the sight of Buck harnessed up for a rope rescue.

Buck at home—in his apartment or at the Diaz house, they’re practically synonymous anyway—is a whole other matter. Buck in old, faded t-shirts and comfortable sweats, in the LAFD hoodie they’ve been stealing back and forth for so long Eddie isn’t sure whose it was originally. It’s a different kind of intensity, a quiet one that stems from the knowledge that Buck doesn’t let many people see him like that, soft and a little dishevelled on a Saturday morning.

These are incarnations of Buck that Eddie has learned to live with, in the interest of remaining a functional human being capable of doing his job and caring for his son—the only two things on his list of priorities that manage to claw past his highly inconvenient unrequited feelings for his best friend.

But Buck in a suit? This is new, and Eddie’s defences are down. Eddie doesn’t have defences for this. He’s never seen Buck in a suit before.

Maybe he should have made Buck try the suit on at home first, so he could have gotten used to it in private.

Can you get sent to hell for thinking impure thoughts in church? Not that his thoughts are impure, exactly. He’s just thinking about the way the lines of the suit cling to Buck’s figure and highlight his broad shoulders, about the way Buck’s arms strain against the sleeves when he adjusts his cuffs, about the way the starched cotton would feel between his fingers as he unbuttoned Buck’s shirt… Okay, so he might be going to hell.

Eddie shakes his head. This is ridiculous. He’s a grown man, he can pull it together for the duration of a wedding ceremony.

Next to him, Christopher pokes his arm and looks at him curiously. “Dad? Are you okay?” he whispers.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his throat. “I’m fine, buddy.”

“Why were you shaking your head?”

“I just—uh, forgot something I was supposed to do yesterday,” he whispers back. Forgot to mentally prepare himself for the sight of Buck in formalwear. “Don’t worry about it, just watch the ceremony. Look, I bet Chimney’s about to cry.”

The ceremony is just reaching the vows, and sure enough, as soon as Maddie starts reciting hers Chimney starts tearing up enough that it’s clearly visible to their seats near the back of the church.

This is good. If he focuses on Chimney’s quest to win the title of sappiest man alive, it’ll distract him from the public health hazard that is Buck in that suit.

“Is Chimney okay?” Christopher asks, and Eddie laughs under his breath and wraps an arm around his son.

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Eddie says and ducks down to kiss Christopher’s forehead. “He’s just really happy.”

One of Maddie’s first proclamations about the wedding was that she wanted to do away with any tradition that didn’t make sense to her, and the first thing to go was the separate table for the wedding party.

“Why would we invite all these people just to sit at a separate table all night?” she’d said, and nobody had been able to come up with a counterargument.

Then she’d gone one step further and decided to forego seating arrangements altogether. “Assigned seating is for middle schoolers and people who don’t like each other,” she’d said at Eddie’s kitchen table one night as Buck supposedly helped her plan the wedding. His helping mostly consisted of eating wedding cake samples, but Eddie was pretty sure Maddie wasn’t there for the manpower anyway. “And we’re neither of those things, so people can just sit with whoever they want.”

“I’m gonna be a middle schooler in the fall,” Christopher had pointed out, just serious enough that no one had quite known how to react. Then he’d grinned, and the kitchen had exploded into laughter.

“Good thing the wedding is in the summer, then,” Maddie said with a conspiratorial smile. “No assigned seats for you just yet.”

So when they get to the reception venue, instead of being exiled to the high table Buck is by their side almost immediately. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it, but Buck always seems to be able to find them in any crowd, effortless like gravity.

“I vote we find a table and set up camp,” Buck says.

Eddie nods, because Buck and his suit are in very close proximity and he isn’t entirely sure he’s capable of forming words right now.

He really needs to get a grip, or this is about to be a very long night.

“What do you think?” Buck asks Christopher, pointing at a table along one wall. “That one?”

Christopher agrees and they set off, carefully weaving through all of the dearly beloved who have gathered to witness and rejoice in Maddie and Chimney’s marriage.

“I figured you’d want to be by the wall,” Buck says, hanging back so Christopher doesn’t overhear. “You usually are.”

“I—yeah,” Eddie says, a little bewildered. He doesn’t remember ever actually talking to Buck about this. About the way that ever since the shooting, he can’t seem to make himself turn his back on crowds. He sits with his back to the wall whenever he can, and when he can’t—like in a church watching his friends get married—he sits as far back as he can, and glances over his shoulder every three seconds like his head is mounted on a swivel.

He’s never talked to Buck about it, but apparently Buck noticed anyway.

Their table, Eddie discovers, is also close to the open bar. He debates taking generous advantage of this fact in order to deal with the continued proximity of Buck and his suit, but—getting drunk would probably make it worse, actually. Drunk Eddie isn’t very good at filtering his thoughts.

Buck, however, doesn’t seem to have similar qualms, and by the time they’ve gotten through dinner, he’s bright-eyed and a little flushed.

Eddie loves Buck like this, tipsy and giggly and affectionate. He gets the feeling that Buck tries a little too hard to be taken seriously sometimes, but when he’s had a drink or three he lets his defences down.

“You should dance with me,” Buck says now, leaning so far into Eddie that his head is resting on his shoulder.

“It’s not dancing time yet,” Eddie says, fighting to ignore the thrill that runs through him at the idea of dancing with Buck. “There’s still speeches and cake first.” Buck, thankfully, had given his best man speech before any food or drinks were served, so Eddie doesn’t need to worry about Buck getting too drunk for it.

“Later, then,” Buck says, and makes no move to pick himself up off Eddie’s shoulder. “When it’s dancing time.”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees. “Later.” Then he wonders whether he can get out of it somehow, because there are a lot of people around and his self-control is already worn thin by Buck practically draping himself over him.

Buck puts a hand out, fumbling around like he’s looking for something until he finally lands on his wine glass. When Eddie looks down, Buck’s eyes are closed.

“Hey,” Eddie says, poking at Buck until he sits up straight again. “Have you been drinking enough water?”

Buck opens his eyes and squints at him. “I’m not that drunk, you know,” he informs Eddie.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and touches his nose with alternating forefingers like a field sobriety test. “See? I’m just lazy.” Then he puts his head back on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Eddie says, a warm rush of affection running through him. “You wanna do me a favour and drink this water anyway?”

“If you insist,” Buck says with a put-upon sigh, but he grins at Eddie so widely that water almost spills out around the edges of the glass.

It takes almost another hour for it to get to dancing time, and as soon as dancing starts, Buck is whisked away by partner after partner. It’s Maddie first, for the slightly altered tradition of the sister-brother dance, then it’s Hen, and then Chimney wants a turn, too. And Eddie can see why: Buck on the dance floor is joyous and carefree. He looks like he’s having fun, genuinely from the bottom of his heart, and like he’ll spread that joy to anyone who dances with him. It’s no wonder everyone wants a whirl.

Eddie desperately wants one, too, but something stops him every time he tries to get up and walk over to Buck. He’s worried that five seconds of dancing with Buck will give everything away, that everyone around them will be able to see exactly what he feels. That Buck will be able to see. He’s worried that if he dances with Buck he’ll read something into it that isn’t there, and then when Buck turns to the next partner with a grin and a little bow he’ll crush Eddie’s heart under his heel as he goes.

It’s a lot to put on just one dance, but Eddie’s always been good at overthinking.

So he stays at his table. The first time someone tries to get him to join the dancing he makes a vague gesture at Christopher, like the reason he isn’t dancing is that he has to stay and watch his kid. But then Hen and Denny come over to get Christopher to join the kids' dance circle they’ve got going on and Chris goes without a look back, taking Eddie’s only real excuse with him.

He manages to dodge the dancing for almost half an hour until Karen materialises at the end of their table and holds out her hand. It’s not a question so much as it is a declaration of what’s going to happen next. “Come on,” she says. “Can’t have you sitting here looking so gloomy at a wedding, people will start thinking you’re secretly in love with the bride.”

“I’m not—” Eddie starts, and Karen gives him a look that feels like it goes right through him.

“I know,” she says. “Wrong Buckley. Now come on.”

Eddie goes, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t know the song that’s playing, but it’s the kind of easy-listening music that always gets played at weddings, inoffensive and easy to dance to. It’s easy to take Karen’s hand and rest his other hand loosely on her waist, to sway around vaguely in time and in tune with the music.

It’s less easy to look at her after what she’d said, because looking at her means acknowledging it. But he looks anyway, and finds nothing but understanding in her eyes.

“Why don’t you just dance with him?” Karen asks. She doesn’t ask if she’d gotten it right, which Eddie takes to mean that he’s probably not as subtle as he’d hoped.

Eddie doesn’t say anything because he can’t quite put it into words, this certainty that dancing with Buck will be the beginning of the end, somehow. He doesn’t know how to explain that he wants to, more than anything, but the idea terrifies him because it feels too close to a confession for comfort.

“Okay,” Karen says. “What level of crisis are we talking about here? Is this a gay crisis? Or—bi crisis?”

“Bi crisis,” Eddie confirms. “I mean—it’s not that, but if it was. It would be a bi crisis.”

“Copy that. Okay, so what’s the crisis?”

“The crisis is that I’m in love with my best friend, and he’s—not,” Eddie mutters. It strikes him then that he’s never said it out loud before.

“What makes you think that?”

“Wouldn’t he have said something by now?” Eddie asks, and Karen looks at him like he’s a little slow.

“Have you said anything?” she asks.

“I—” Eddie starts, and finds he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence.

Karen smiles. “Just dance with him, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t end up dancing with Buck. He keeps trying to talk himself into it, but before he can get all the way there suddenly the banquet hall is emptying out. It’s just him and Buck, now—and Christopher, sleeping in a corner on a pile of spare tablecloths, because he’d insisted he was old enough to stay until the end and proved himself spectacularly wrong.

Buck is going from table to table, making sure none of the guests left anything behind. There’s still music playing—the DJ had gone home an hour ago, but she’d left a playlist on.

Just dance with him, Eddie.

Eddie takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.

Buck looks up when Eddie walks over to him, smiling the soft smile Eddie has only ever seen directed at himself or Christopher.

“Never got that dance,” Eddie says, hoping his voice doesn’t give away the fact that he has spent the past several hours thinking about it.

To his surprise, a blush spreads along Buck’s cheekbones. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

Wouldn’t he have said something by now?

Have you said anything?

There’s a moment where neither of them speaks. Like they’re weighing the options, like they know this isn’t the kind of dancing Buck meant—he’d been talking about a dance floor full of people, safety in numbers, jumping around to something more upbeat.

Then Buck raises an eyebrow and holds out his hand. “You did promise,” he says.

Technically, Eddie thinks, he hadn’t promised. All he’d said was sure. But as he takes Buck’s hand and steps closer, arguing the semantics couldn’t be further from his mind.

Buck is in his shirtsleeves, his jacket long since sacrificed to be Christopher’s blanket. Eddie spreads his fingers along the small of Buck’s back, and his shirt feels exactly like Eddie had imagined back in the church.

The music shifts just as they settle together, going from a soft pop ballad to something closer to a waltz. Buck takes a few halting steps, but it’s clear he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Eddie huffs a soft laugh under his breath. “Here, just follow my lead,” he says. He steers Buck, gentle pressure on his back, and counts steps out loud until Buck gets the hang of it.

Then they’re waltzing around the empty room, and once Eddie stops murmuring one-two-three one-two-three there’s nothing left between them but a couple of inches of air. It feels like nothing, and it feels like the Grand Canyon.

Buck looks up from where he’d been watching Eddie’s feet. “How come you know how to waltz?” he asks, whisper-quiet even though there’s no one else in the room to disturb.

“There are still things you don’t know about me,” Eddie says, equally quiet.

Buck narrows his eyes like he’s going to challenge that, but they’re interrupted by a door clanging open. It’s a teenager in a catering uniform, one Eddie vaguely recognises from throughout the night.

“Uh, sorry,” she says as Buck and Eddie spring apart, looking anywhere but at each other. “Just, we’re about to close up?”

“Sorry,” Buck says. “We’ll get out of your hair.” The girl disappears back through the door, and Buck turns to Eddie. “You get the kid, I’ll get our stuff?”

“Meet you at the car?”

“Race you,” Buck says, and Eddie grins.

Christopher is sleeping soundly enough that he barely stirs when Eddie picks him up, careful to keep him wrapped up in Buck’s jacket. He makes it to the car just as Buck approaches from the other direction, and they work together to get Christopher settled and buckled in without waking him up.

Eddie doesn’t have to ask if Buck is coming home with them. They don’t talk on the drive, mindful of the sleeping child in the back seat, but there’s a tension humming in the air, the feeling of something unfinished and unresolved.

Christopher doesn’t react when Eddie extracts him from the car and carries him to his room. Briefly, Eddie debates whether he should wake Christopher to brush his teeth, but—the kid’s already asleep, and pretty deep, from the sounds of it. Chances are waking him up now would do more harm than missing one night of brushing teeth.

Besides, he doesn’t want to risk Christopher waking up wired and refusing to go back to sleep. He doesn’t know exactly what’s going to happen when he goes back into the living room, back to Buck, but based on the way Buck had been looking at him in the banquet hall before they were interrupted, and the way Buck kept stealing glances at him on the drive home, he’s pretty sure something is.

And he’d thought he’d be nervous, if this day ever came, but all he feels is excitement starting to build somewhere in his stomach.

Buck is waiting for him in the living room, something like determination blazing in his eyes. “Hey,” he says. “Is this one of those things you think I don’t know about you?” He cups Eddie’s face and pulls him in, closer, pressing his entire body along Eddie’s before finally fitting their lips together.

Eddie kisses back instinctively, wrapping his arms around Buck to pull him closer. He feels simultaneously like he’s drowning in Buck and like Buck is his only supply of oxygen; he wants to keep getting closer and closer until he’s crawling inside Buck’s ribcage.

The need for real oxygen pries them apart eventually but they don’t go far, foreheads pressed together and their heavy, panting breaths mingling.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Eddie asks. “If you knew?”

“I didn’t for sure,” Buck says. “Not until today.”

“What about today?”

“I saw the way you looked at me in the suit,” Buck smirks.

Eddie groans.

“Hey, all’s well that ends well,” Buck says, and leans in to kiss him again. Eddie loses track of how long they stand there in the middle of the room, getting to know each other in this new way, exploring with hands and tongues, marking time in hitched breaths and soft sighs.

When Buck eventually starts steering them towards the sofa, Eddie goes willingly. They collapse in a tangle of limbs, and Buck lands mostly on top of Eddie. Buck’s weight presses him down in a delicious way, and Buck’s every movement sends sparks skidding down Eddie’s spine. Buck wastes no time in taking advantage of his new position, shifting his hips against Eddie’s and grinning when Eddie lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“Buck,” he hisses. “I’m—it’s been a while, I’m not gonna last long if—”

But Buck just grins above him. “Who said I’m trying to make it last long right now?” he says, grinding his hips in a slow, deliberate move. “We have the rest of our lives for that.”

[trexy225]

TPYH-Chapter 7: *Sobbing* NO Y/N!!! DON'T GO BACK TO THE TOXIC EX!!!

Summary: Y/N *waddles back to Monica*

Summary, cont.: *I collapse on my knees and bang the floor, I cry out in agony, asking God why would they do this. But I remember I'm an atheist, and that I am God, I did this, I made you go back to Monica*

Summary, cont, cont.: Hee hee

You listened to Otto, there were no more lunch dates, and only nods and polite small talk. You hated it. But you couldn’t do anything about it, so you worked, day after day, week after week, month after month, until it turned into a year, the fusion reactor was almost ready for tests, Harry was making sure to have all the media outlets excited for it.

“They seriously want me to attend this?” You grumble as you open the invitation for some charity ball. You knew you had to go, but you didn’t want to. You sighed as you dug out your fancy dress, you only needed one. You liked it because it had pockets, more clothes needed pockets.

You walked into the building and immediately froze, Otto and Monica were both there, at the bar. You cursed under your breath as you shuffled as far away from them as possible, luckily your brother was there, along with MJ and Peter. Harry and MJ were holding glasses of alcohol, Peter had orange juice. You grabbed the drinks out of both of their hands and downed them.

“Hey!” they both complained.

“You’re both underaged, and I need to get drunk tonight. Get some orange juice like Peter.” Peter turned red as you grabbed three champagne flutes and downed them. The three glanced at each other worriedly.

“Sis are you sure-”

“Harry, bud I love you. But I don’t want to be here, so I’m just going to get drunk, help you donate some money for Oscorp, and then wallow in self pity, ok?” 

MJ shrugged and the four of you started talking again, you liked Harrys friends, they were cool, and you always wanted a little sister, and Peter was less agitating than Harry, so it worked out.

“Did she really just down five glasses of alcohol at once?” Otto muttered to himself.

“She’s basically a functioning alcoholic at this point.” he heard a voice answer.

Otto turned to face the voice, he frowned. “I know you.” 

“Doctor Monica Reeves.” she offered her hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Harsh. So you know y/n?” She asked.

“We work together. I’ve never seen her drink before.” 

“She doesn’t drink a lot.”

“You just said she was basically a functioning-”

“She has a high tolerance. I helped her get that.”

“You’re insane.” 

“Wrong, I’m a manipulative psychopathic and sociopathic narcissist with a superiority complex.” she took a sip of wine. “Jesus,” he muttered.

“Yep.”

“How did she ever fall in love with you?” 

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. I met her in a master's psychology class, she was focusing on animal behavior and I wanted to be a psychiatrist.”

“There’s no way you’re a psychiatrist.” 

“I am, I’m also a couples counselor.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“One of the best in Manhatten. Anyway, this was after her mom died, she was what, 19? A freshman in College? Oh man, she was a mess, I heard about the infamous Osborn daughter, breaking down in classes. After that Norman coped in his own way, by mercifully commanding her-” “That’s a weird term.” he interrupted.

“It’s from Milgram, and if you knew that study you would understand exactly what he was doing, telling her to put all her energy into her work, that if she worked hard enough she would get what she deserved. So she did that, and she graduated with her undergrad at the end of her Sophomore year.”

“I already know this.”

“Let me set this up. Problem is, you can’t cope by just shoving it under, she was studying animal behavior so we shared Psychology. She was an easy diagnosis.”

“What was her diagnosis?”

“She obviously has ADHD, ADD, depression, severe anxiety, difficulty connecting with people, and instead of dealing with her emotions, lack of stability, and no social groups to support her, she uses animals instead as well as work. But animals don’t fill her need for emotional closeness.” Monica answered.

“So you brought it upon yourself to be that emotional closeness.”

“Of course I did, she was pathetic. I felt sorry for her.” 

“How can you say those things?” “If you don’t want to hear me talk about her, then leave.” Otto stayed.

“That’s what I thought, I’ll get to you next, you’re a riot. Anyway, I felt sorry for her, so I became her counselor, her psychiatrist, I finally got her on the right meds, I became her only friend, and her girlfriend, she did anything I wanted, I’ve never been able to control someone like that-” “You’re sick.” 

“I know. Being with her was exhausting, I mean I definitely helped her, she’s so much better now, but I hated being with her, so demanding.”

“I never knew about any of this…”

“You weren’t around.”

“...If you hated being with her, then why did you stay with her?” 

“The sex.” 

Otto looked at her, shocked.

“What? I’ve never had-”

“We’re done here.” Otto got up to leave.

“You don’t want me to tell you what I think about you?” Monica called out.

Otto hesitated and slowly sat down.

“You’re a textbook narcissist who hides it by creating experiments that help others, justifying it to yourself and others. But you love the attention, you love having everyone say how smart and kind you are by building this reactor, you love stringing y/n around, you love how she wants you, but you’re fighting with yourself because what, you want to be noble? Norman’s dead. Do whatever you want.”

“It’s the principle of it-”

“Wow. The principle,” she mocks.

“There’s a lot of self-hatred in there as well, what did you do Otto?” 

Otto turned red and looked down at his glass.

“That’s none of your concern.” He snapped.

Monica chuckled and took a swig of whiskey.

“My point is, fuck principles. You’re both consenting, legal adults. And she loves you.”

“She’s confused.”

“She loves you, do you love her?” “...I can’t.”

“You’re pathetic, I’m going to go talk to her, you follow me and I cut you.” She got up and left, leaving a stunned Otto.

What a bitch… He thought as he got up to follow her, he could take a beating.

Harry took your 6th glass of wine from you. 

“I was almost done with that!” you whined.

“I think it’s time to go home… Peter, MJ? I still need to write our grant.” Harry rubbed his forehead.

“I’m fine!” You object.

“y/n I think we should-” MJ started.

“Pshhhh. I just need to pee.” You wave her off as you stumble towards the restrooms, you didn’t notice the glances, you couldn’t really make out faces at this point.

“Do you need some help?” a female voice asked.

“Huh?” you asked, you couldn’t make out the face, your mind was so foggy… the voice sounded familiar…

“I said do you need some help?” the voice asked.

You nodded, and the person led you towards the restrooms. 

You don’t remember a lot, you remember… kissing? And then something else happened, then there was yelling… and then you passed out.

You woke up at your brother's penthouse, you had a wicked headache. MJ was reading a book next to you.

“MJ?” you croaked.

“Hey y/n.” she smiled, she handed you a glass of water, and you started drinking it.

“What the hell happened?” You asked.

“Well, you went to the bathroom, it was so crowded I wasn’t able to see Monica approaching you.”

You groaned. That’s who the voice was.

“I don’t know much but it seems like she… took advantage of you, I’m sorry y/n…”

You weren’t surprised. You just gave a nod.

“But I think Otto spotted Monica taking you in there, he talked to security and they managed to stop her. Then she and Otto got in a very, very loud argument…” MJ explained.

“So Harry had to clean it up?” you concluded.

She nodded, “He wanted another woman to help you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Thank you MJ, this means a lot.” 

“Are you ok?” She asked.

“No. I haven’t been for a while… But I think I’m getting better? There’s just been a lot of changes in my life and I just-” you fell asleep mid-sentence. MJ sighed and continued reading.

[fanmoose12]

Nifa Strikes Back

Levi hates St. Valentine’s Day with burning passion. The only thing that makes this holiday somewhat bearable to him is a little tradition he shares with his best friend Hange. But after hearing the news that Hange is going to skip the years-long ritual to go on a date with someone else, Levi is faced with conflicting and severely confusing feelings. 

thanks @innocent-ghost-demon for the idea! (i’m sorry it took me so long to actually write it lmao)

In Levi's personal opinion, St. Valentine's Day was the worst holiday of them all. It was meaningless and explorative and it served no other purpose than to fill the pockets of flowers and chocolate sellers. Levi hated it with burning passion, getting groceries in the weeks leading to the forsaken holiday was the cruelest torture, as he was immensely annoyed by big pink hearts and cute figurines with naked babies on display. It was almost impossible for him not to gag.

The only thing that quelled his hatred towards this day was a small tradition he shared with his best friend Hange. It had started years ago, when they were still in college. Hange's boyfriend had dumped her - she was heartbroken and upset, while Levi was furious and ready to go, find that bastard and beat the shit out of him for making Hange cry. Naturally, as college students, they knew only one way to deal with that kind of complicated feelings - get absolutely wasted at the local bar. Next morning they woke up with the worst hangovers of their lives and vowed to never repeat the same mistake.

But next year, Hange was rejected by a girl she wanted to ask on a date, and, like a good friend he was, Levi once again offered his shoulder for Hange to cry on. And once again they've found themselves clinging to each other as they shakily stumbled towards their dorm.

They got drunk that year again. And that's what they've been doing every year after that.

It was the only thing that got Levi through the awful holiday. Because of that, he was actually looking forward to it.

***

"Hey, four-eyes," Levi looked over the wall that separated their cubicles, throwing a small piece of paper to get Hange's attention. "Is your place as messy as usual? Or have you cleaned it for the occasion?"

"Huh?" Hange raised her eyes from a screen, pushing the glasses up her nose. "What do you mean?"

Another paper was thrown at Hange. This one landed on her lap.

"The shitty holiday, Hange. It's this weekend. So are we going to your place of mine?"

"Oh," Hange raised her hand, rubbing her neck. "About that..."

Levi frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Did he hear a twinge of hesitation in Hange's voice? That was unusual. What could it mean?

"I can't go this year."

His frown turned into a scowl. "Why the fuck not?"

"I have a date."

Levi blinked. Hange's words... surprised him. And more than that, his own reaction surprised him. He felt displeased, but not just that. He was angry, he was disappointed. He was sad?

"You're going on a date?" he asked, cursing the weakness that colored his voice. What was going on with him?

"Yeah, sorry," Hange gave him an apologetic smile. "With all this work, I forgot to tell you about it."

"That's fine," he answered, even though it wasn't fine. Hange was going on a date, and Levi wasn't fine with it. Why wasn't he? Hange was his best friend, he was supposed to feel happy for her, right? Did it mean that he was a bad friend?

No, Levi decided. He wasn't a bad friend, he was a good one. He was worried about Hange, he had seen her get hurt by someone else, and he simply didn't wish to repeat the experience.

"Who is your date?"

Was it someone from the office, he wondered. If it was their co-worker, that'd be good, Levi could keep an eye on them then. But what if they start dating? Would Hange stop spending her lunch-breaks with him? Would she go and bother someone else if she's bored? Would she pay less attention to him?

Levi shot that train of thought as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t like thinking about it. It made him feel weird. It made him upset.

"It's Nifa's cousin, she set us up. I don't know the guy yet," Hange shrugged. "But if he's at least half as cute as Nifa, then it's worth a shot, eh?"

She looked at him then, tilting her head and smiling. It was Levi's cue to congratulate her and wish her luck. Or express his pity towards the guy. Instead there was an unpleasant, ugly feeling inside him. Hange broke their years-long tradition. To go on a date. With someone else.

And it pissed him off.

"Levi?" Hange reached out to him, grasping the sleeve of his jacket with her fingers. "Are you alright? You look a bit weird. Are you upset that we won't be hanging out this year? I'm sorry about that, I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to," he grunted, shaking Hange's hand off. He turned around, feeling the acute need to leave. The concern on Hange’s face was annoying him. "Have fun on your date and don't worry about me. I wasn't looking forward to our get-together anyway."

*** It took Levi two days to admit his own weakness.

He promised to himself to ignore Hange. To forget about her stupid date and stupid feelings it had provoked in him.

But then he saw Nifa alone in the hallway and he just had to ask.

He approached the girl, stopping just behind her shoulder. "Your cousin," his rough, low voice made Nifa jump. She didn't hear him walk up to her. "Is he a good man?"

Despite a scare Levi just gave her, Nifa's lips lifted into a smug smirk. She looked at Levi, observing him closely. His face was as blank as always, but his shoulders were uncharacteristically tight and his eyes showed even more annoyance than usual.

Her plan was working.

"Cousin Greg?" Nifa twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "He's great! I think Hange would get along with him!"

Cousin Greg wasn't that great actually. In fact, he was quite boring and very annoying. But Nifa wanted to help her superiors admit their feelings for each other and Greg owed her a favor after that time when she had covered for him during the grannies' birthday. Hange didn't have to like him. In fact, if she starts liking him, it'd destroy all of Nifa's plans.

Hange didn't have to like Greg. And Levi didn't have to like the fact that Hange was going on a date with him.

Evidently, the most important part of her plan already proved to be a success.

"He won't hurt four-eyes, right?" Levi asked, a shadow of worry passing through his eyes.

"He won't," Nifa promised with a serious face. Inside, however, she could barely contain herself. Levi was so concerned! It was so cute! Nifa needed to share these news with someone, and quick.

"Alright," Levi pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thanks." He added before walking away, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

As she watched him go, Nifa's heart constricted painfully. Levi looked so miserable, just like a kicked puppy. She actually felt bad for him.

It was for his own good, she had to remind herself. She was doing him a favor. Levi, no, Hange too - both of them - will later thank her for this. She was doing a right thing.

Nifa repeated these words a couple of times and then rushed over to the break room, where she knew she would most surely find Moblit. Her best friend would be thrilled to hear about her success. 

*** He wasn't brooding, he told himself as he threw another disgustingly sweet candy in his mouth.

He wasn't sulking, Levi thought, as he put the glass of wine to his lips. It was awful. He had been drinking this brand of wine for years, but he never noticed how mawkish it was. Hange’s taste in wine was as horrible as her taste in romantic partners.

He didn't care about Hange and her stupid date, Levi tried to convince himself, paying only half of his attention to the movie.

On his TV screen Harry ran away from Sally after their first night together, and Levi scoffed at his stupidity. It was obvious they're in love with each other, why couldn’t they just admit it? They were both idiots and this movie was stupid, Levi decided. Why Hange liked it so much was beyond him.

***

Harry and Sally started arguing at the wedding, when Levi's phone started ringing. He made no move to get up and pick it. It couldn't be Hange calling, because she was on a date. And if that was Erwin, informing him of some emergency at work, he could kindly go and fuck himself. It was Levi's day-off and he was allowed to be as miserable as he wanted in the coziness of his apartment.

After a few seconds his phone fell silent, but before Levi could sigh with relief and continue watching the movie, he heard a few pings that announced that he had received a couple of messages. Erwin wasn't one for texting, and that got Levi wondering who was trying to get into contact with him.

Was it Petra, inviting him to a bar with others from their office?

Or, maybe, that was Yeager or any of his friends, wishing him a happy holiday?

Either way, Levi decided to ignore the messages too. If it was Petra, she'd understand his desire to be left alone. And if the messages were from any of their interns, then Levi most certainly didn't want to deal with that. It was bad enough they'd given him chocolate at work. It made him feel like he was a high school teacher, not a partner of the law firm.

He shouldn’t support this kind of behavior, Levi decided and returned his attention to the movie. 

*** Levi was halfway through a bottle of wine and Harry was ready to confess to Sally.

Fucking finally, he thought, pouring himself more wine. What kind of idiots waste twelve years denying the feelings they have for each other? Just when Harry was going to say those three little words, someone knocked on Levi's front door. With glass of wine still lifted to his lips, Levi paused the movie and stared at the door, wondering who could be fearless enough to visit him at ten pm.

As he continued to sit and ponder on it, the initially soft knocks turned into vicious bangs.

Cursing at the impatient idiot, Levi put the glass down and got to his feet, marching to the door with a glare on his face.

He threw the door open and— froze, blinking in surprise.

Hange stood on a threshold, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and wearing a wide grin on her lips.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

Levi bit his cheek to keep himself from blurting out 'yes'.

"What happened to your other one?" he asked instead, putting on a mask of cold indifference.

"Ah," she ruffled her hair. "He was actually boring as hell. Not even half as cute as Nifa," she shrugged. "I guess she's the sole owner of all adorable genes in their family."

Levi scoffed, plucking his lips. He would not give Hange the satisfaction of laughing at her lame joke. "Your date turned out to be a moron, so what? You've decided to come and bother me?"

"Yeah? Would you let me in or not?"

Levi knew he could put up a fight. He could tell Hange how annoying and inconsiderate she was. But he also knew that it would result in absolutely nothing. Hange would still get what she wants. He would still let her get what she wants. Because in all the years of their friendship he hadn't learned how to say no to her.

So with an irritated tsk and a shake of his head, Levi took a step back, allowing Hange to come inside.

"Did you bring something, except wine?" he asked while Hange was busy taking off her shoes.

"Yes!" Hange passed him her handbag.

Levi opened, finding chocolate inside. Lots of chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

"Four-eyes. Did you rob the candy shop?" he inquired dryly.

"No!" Hange snickered. "These are gifts."

Levi had received chocolate too. His collection wasn't quite as vast as Hange's, though.

"Are all of these from brats?"

"Some are from my team. Where's your chocolate, by the way? If I received so many, I can't even imagine how much you got."

"It seems like this year you're more popular than me," Levi pointed at only a couple of box of chocolates on his coffee table.

Hange's face fell after his words. She even opened her mouth, probably with the intent to apologize or, god forbid, comfort him. Levi scowled, silently telling Hange the misplaced pity to herself. He didn't really care about such trivial matters.

And he was more than happy to find out how well-loved Hange was. She deserved nothing less than that after all.

"Don't just stand there," he snapped, when Hange continued to stare at him without saying anything or even moving.

Hange lifted the corners of her lips and hurried after Levi to the living room.

"Oh!" as soon as she saw what was on the TV screen, she clasped her hands in delight. "When Harry Meets Sally! I love this movie!"

I know, Levi almost said.

"And it's one of my favorite scenes!" Hange continued to gash. She plopped down on Levi's sofa with a wide grin.

However, as she took a closer look on a coffee table, her excitement diminished considerably.

"Two glasses?" she mumbled, frowning in confusion. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, it's just..."

A habit, Levi realized. He put two glasses simply out of habit. He was so used to drinking with Hange that he had taken two glasses without even thinking.

"It's nothing," he finished awkwardly. "Let's watch the movie."

Hange stared him for a second, her eyes wary. But then she snapped out of it and a smile returned to her lips. She waited until Levi took his place on a sofa and then put her head on his thigh.

"Must you always do it?" Levi complained without making a single move to change their position. "I'm not a piece of furniture, you know."

"Just put on a movie, Levi," Hange mumbled, too used to his constant bitching to have any kind of reaction to it.

"So bossy," he huffed, but took the remote in his hands and resumed the movie.

On a screen, Harry was confessing to Sally.

"It's kinda bizarre, don't you think?" Hange asked. "They knew each other for so long and yet they've realized their true feelings only years after."

"It's a movie, Hange."

"So you think it's unrealistic?" she lifted her head to stare at him. "That two people can be close friends for years and continue to be blind, refusing to see how much they need each other?"

"I think you have to be unbelievably dense to not realize that you're in love with your best friend."

Hange giggled, and the quiet sound was like music to Levi's ears. "Yeah, maybe, you're right. They're really dense."

"Idiots," Levi agreed, laying a hand on her shoulder and pulling her closer.

[0606-hyuck]

a letter to my lover | na jaemin

♡  dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me. 

genre: jaemin x reader, smut (only at the start), angst, R18 ONLY, supernatural!jaemin, incubus!jaemin

warnings: unprotected sex, toxic relationships, profanity, alcohol consumption, and mentions of drugs. jaemin is not a good person, and this is not a happy story.

disclaimer: this fic is in no way glorifying or romanticizing toxic behaviour/relationships. how jaemin is portrayed is not an accurate reflection of him as a person. readers must strictly be over 18 years old. please make your own judgement over whether or not this fic is right for you.

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 @ncteology + @nct-writers

word count: 2.3K

Y/N,

The first time you said “I love you”, you were moaning underneath me.

You were just a Tinder hookup, or so I told myself. If I wasn’t gambling, getting into fights, or partying until the sun rose, I was swiping away on that goddamn app, matching with as many individuals as possible. The night I met you was no different. Your Tinder profile was pretty standard - ‘hi I’m Y/N and I’m not looking for anything serious, apart from a good chat and laughs.’ We matched with each other, I sent off a quick ‘hi beautiful, I’m Jaemin’, and within a few messages you were already putty in my waiting hands. 

We met at a bar, and I really wasn’t expecting you to look the way you did. I checked your pictures, of course, but at this point I was basically fucking anything that walked, so I hadn’t paid too much attention to what you looked like. I wonder if you knew the outfit you had so nicely prepared would be off your body and lying on my floor in a mere hour.

I wined and dined you like the fine gentleman I am, and we made the decision to travel to my place for some fun adult time. This routine was so familiar to me - go on a Tinder date, spend a little bit of money on the date, bring my Tinder match back home, have some hot sex, feed of off their energy, and then kick them out. 

That night, I had myself positioned in between your legs, my hips rolling like the tides and causing you to let out an attractive whine of ecstasy. You wrapped your arms around the back of my neck and pulled me closer, threading your fingers through my hair, and whispered in my ear, “oh god, I love you.” I smirked and didn’t think much of it - if I wasn’t sleeping with someone and they didn’t confess their love for me then I was clearly doing something wrong. 

The words continued to spill from your mouth as we both reached our highs; your fingers dug into my neck and the pain transformed into pleasure as I came inside you. As your own orgasm rushed over you, I leant down to kiss your lips - instead I sucked as much energy from your body as possible without causing you to fall unconscious.

You see, I was an incubus, and in order to live I fed off the sexual energy of my partners. I spent hours each week scrolling through Tinder finding matches so I could continue to exist, but I was also young and keen, and having sex multiple times a week was fun for me. Partying, drinking, and having sex was just part of my lifestyle as an incubus. It was a common rule for incubi to avoid forming attachments to those we slept with, because monogamy doesn’t really fit in well with our lifestyle, and that was a rule I was trying to abide by when I kicked you out of my apartment just minutes after I had fed from you. 

If only I realised how hard that rule would be to follow when you were involved. 

The second time you said “I love you”, I said it back.

After we slept together, I broke my only rule: don’t get attached. You still had my number, and I had yours, and it became normal for us to meet up at night for a quick hookup. Whenever you had an argument with your partner-who-wasn’t-actually-your-partner, you’d call me. Whenever I felt the nagging effects of a lack of energy, I’d call you. 

It just made sense for us to be each other’s crutch, to use each other for our own selfish needs, to build a relationship around our mutual sexual frustrations. I didn’t become attached to you because I was fond of you. I became attached to you because I had this inherently primal desire to ruin you - to come through like a wrecking ball and destroy the life you had known before me.

Every Saturday I invited you to a local party a vague acquaintance of mine was hosting, so we could get drunk enough to have a quickie in a spare room and never speak of it again. Each Wednesday, we would go down to a local nightclub to do the exact same thing. I found myself ditching all my usual friends-with-benefits, and we fell into a daily routine we didn’t realise would be the end of us until it was too late: drink until we couldn’t walk, gamble until there was nothing left in our wallets, fuck until we physically couldn’t keep going, and repeat.

It was at one of these sex-filled parties that you told me you loved me for the second time. The penthouse belonged to a distant friend of mine, and we’d witnessed multiple hookups, drug deals, and fights before you pulled me out onto the balcony for some fresh air. We stood in silence together as we both watched the bright lights of the city spread into the distance and took in the sounds of a restless society. 

Our shoulders were only mere inches apart - a poignant symbol of our relationship, of how we were so close yet so far away from actually knowing anything about each other. You turned towards me, I remember seeing the lights of the city below us reflected in your eyes, and for a fleeting moment I regretted how our relationship had ended with us harbouring a coexisting love and hate for each other - an emotional ambivalence, never crossing the line either way, but teetering too precariously for us to ever have a healthy relationship.

When you smiled, told me you loved me, and delicately kissed my cheek, I didn’t hesitate to tell you I loved you back. It was a lie, of course. I knew it was a lie, and I think you knew it was a lie, too.

The third time you said “I love you”, you were crying so hard that I’m sure you couldn’t even see my face.

When I first met you, you said you were a university student, studying biology (or something like that; honestly, remembering your education was not my main priority at the time). You had a part time job, and you lived in a dorm rented by the university.

Were we born purely to destroy each other? It certainly felt like it.

By the time we were through with each other, you were functionally a university drop out. Attending all those drug-fueled parties with me became your life, and studying was placed on the backburner for me. You were skipping classes to chill out and have sex with me, and more than a few times I spied a letter from the university warning you of your inevitable expelliation. You’d been fired from your part time job almost as soon as I had fixed my claws into your life - clearly it wasn’t possible to hold a job if you never actually showed up. Because you had no job, and you were spending all your money on alcohol and gambling with me, you could no longer afford to live in the university dorm anymore.

My life was falling apart, too. Ever since we had met that day, I’d been hyper fixated on you. My mind was constantly filled with you, Y/N. Thoughts of when I’d see you next. Thoughts of which places I could take you to get absolutely shit-faced. Thoughts of how I could make you scream out in pleasure. Thoughts of how you were always on my mind, like a constant itch I could never quite scratch. Thoughts of how I could destroy you.

It was only when you told me you were on the verge of homelessness and begged me to let you stay with me that I finally realised our relationship was a huge problem for both of us. I loved you so much, Y/N, but our relationship was taking over my life. You made me break my one rule - not to get attached - and that angered me. It stimulated a desire in me to totally wreck you and your life. 

I didn’t know how to deal with the simultaneous feelings of love and hate for you that were that strong. I loved you so much, and the only way I could get you to stay with me is if I ruined every other aspect of your life - your education, your career, your financial security. You were sweet, Y/N, but you were naive, and vulnerable. It made it easy for me to envelope you into my toxic life, and then spit you out when I was finished with you.

Only, the way I was acting wasn’t a reflection of who I truly was. I’d never reacted this way to someone I’d been seeing before. When I realised just how toxic our relationship was, I knew I had to end it. Being around you made me want to destroy every part of you - to take your heart in my hand and squeeze until it shattered into a million pieces - and that wasn’t normal, nor was it okay. 

The day I sat you down and told you it was over, you started crying immediately. Of course you did, who could blame you? I was the only thing you had left in this harsh world, and now I was slipping from your grasp, too. It was only when you told me you loved me, through the bitter tears rolling down your cheeks, that my stoic mask broke. I knew you loved me, and I love you too, so much, but we just couldn’t go on like this. We couldn’t keep hurting each other this way.

So, when it was all said and done, we promised not to see each other ever again.

The last time you said “I love you”, we were twenty-two.

Turns out, you’re really good at keeping promises. I never saw you again, after the day we broke up. I held up my end of the bargain, too, but it was so hard. The temptation to message you, to crawl back into your life like a nasty leech was always there in the back of my mind. The idealization that your life had gone to pure shit since I’d left was also prominent, and the hopes that you’d message me saying how you couldn’t live without me were strong, but not reality.

We’re fifty now. 

In the past 28 years since we’d last seen each other, not a day went by where I didn’t think about you. As the years wore on, my hate towards you and the effects of our relationship slowly dissipated, and I was left with the empty feeling of regret. Yesterday, you were on the news. The biochemical company you worked with had just discovered a key component for the development of an important vaccine, and you’d been the one to speak with the press about it. When I saw your face, decorated with the fine lines of age, your hair showing sneaky signs of greying, I expected all the memories of us to come washing over me again. Instead, all I felt was remorse.

While your life was constantly on the upwards, mine had been spiralling down. After we’d broken up, I found it hard to find another lover to replace you. No one I slept with made me feel the same passion as you did - no one fueled that primal desire in me the way you did. I still had sex because I needed to in order to live, feeding off of the energy of others was what kept me alive, but it became more of a chore than anything. I was alive, but I wasn’t living. I was just existing. I am still just existing, twenty-eight years on.

When I think about you, Y/N, I think about what we could have been. What would have happened if we loved each other? Not loved the feeling of destroying each other, but of truly caring for one another? Would we have been happy together? I searched your name on the internet, and your wikipedia says you are contentedly married. Says you have been for well over eighteen years. I hope your partner loves you. I hope they treat you better than I did. I hope you’re happy with them.

I don’t think that our love story could have ended any other way. We were both too young, too vulnerable, and too obsessed with each other to ever have a happy ending together. I wish I could tell you how much I miss you, but I made a promise to you to not see you again, which I guess is why I’m writing this letter instead. To tell the paper all the things I will never get to say to you. To finally put it out there that if I had the chance to go back and forget you, to never meet you, I would. I wish nothing more than to go back to living a life where I had never loved you.

When I broke up with you, I wanted you to be happy. I knew I wouldn’t like it, but I knew in order to see you content again, I’d have to go. I left, you became happy and found the love of your life, and I will have to live with the regrets of my past actions for the rest of my miserable life.

I really hope you’re as happy as you seem.

Jaemin

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[kyun-toast]

[MONSTA X] Changkyun - Happy Without Me

word count: 3.8k warnings: alcohol, suggestions of smoking, swearing, suggestions of sex summary: I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time a/n: I’ve been listening to the All About Luv album a lot recently and Happy Without Me hit a little different the other day. I hope you don’t notice how I slacked off near the end 💜

“Yerim what are you wearing for tonight? I wanna look cute but not like ‘I’ve put effort in’ kinda cute, you know? Like I’m always this cute.”

Yerim laughed as she replied, “You’d look hot wearing a bin bag so shut up and let me know what drinks you want. It’s ‘bring your own booze’ so I was gonna run to the store for extra before we go.”

“Umm, vodka? Tequila? Maybe rum? I’m getting smashed tonight and you’re all going to carry me home, just letting you know.” Soobin winked and blew kisses at the both of you with a coy smile on her face, as some form of ‘thank you in advance’ for the troubles that you would be going through later that night. As much pain she put the both of you through, it was hard not to love her.

“Yeah, you say that as if that’s not what happens every week, you psycho.”

You smiled from the comfort of your sofa as you witnessed the two of your best friends bicker. You were never really one for parties, but you decided to let yourself go after an unfortunate night maybe five? six months ago. You thought that you could vent your frustrations into your notes app and be done with it, but your friends took pity and introduced you to another option. One where you could numb your mind with alcohol and crashing bass, and you figured that it was somewhat more enjoyable than cry-writing shitty poetry on a Friday night. Notes app therapy was now a thing of the past.

Changkyun had become such an integral part of your life that you couldn’t help yourself from unconsciously replaying memories that you had attempted to bury. A simple look at the most irrelevant objects would have him running through your mind before you could even stop yourself. Oh, we bought this mug together. You were surprised he hadn’t taken it with him when he left. It was his favourite mug to drink whiskey out of. Speaking of whiskey, you needed a drink. It had only taken days for him to make himself at home at the forefront of your thoughts but how long was it going to take to rid of him?

As much as you tried to keep those thoughts at bay, no amount of alcohol could ever stop them from crashing back over you whenever you saw that little smiley face appear at the top of your Instagram feed.

imnameim. When had he posted a story? You hadn’t seen the pink circle earlier. Would it be too early to look at it now? You couldn’t risk tapping on it only to see that it had been posted 12 seconds ago, just like you had done the other day. And the day before. And the day before that. Should you just make a burner account? No, that’s too far, we’re not going there today, bitch... Maybe tomorrow.

You hated how much power that tattoo face held over you, looking straight into your eyes - almost mockingly. Oh, did I look like a smiley face to you six months ago? Well, I’m a sad face now and that’s all you’re ever going to see.

“Y/N! Hey! You’re going to stare a hole into your phone.” Soobin clapped in your face, trying to get your attention. You looked up, softening your expression to meet Yerim’s eyes.

“Soobin was asking what you’re going to wear tonight.” Yerim said.

“I don’t know, probably that top I got yesterday?” you shrugged, unbothered by your friends’ question. You weren’t going to parties to impress anyone; you were going to drink the last of your braincells away.

“Y/N, ‘that top’ you got yesterday is a free t-shirt you got from the Domino’s pop-up stall on campus. I’m not letting you do this again.” Yerim dead panned.

“OK and...?” You met both of their concerned faces only to have them grab each of your arms.

“Come on. Up. That’s it.” You made unintelligible noises as they dragged you up off the sofa and into your closet. The thoughts about Changkyun’s story were left on the sofa as your mind was now filling with an excited buzz. “You act like you hate this, but I know you love getting trashed with us, Y/N.” Yerim laughed and you knew it too.

-

Changkyun lay in Jae-in’s bed, with her nestled in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly squeezed his arm out from under her head to lay on his stomach to scroll through Instagram.

He had posted a story over an hour ago, half hoping that you’d see it – a cover of Dean’s Instagram. How ironic.

He shook his head at how pathetic his efforts seemed, whispering to himself, “What the hell are you doing?” He refreshed his feed for the last time to see that you had posted a video of the three of you dancing to a song in your walk-in closet. Probably drunk. Upon re-watching the video on loop for the third time, he concluded that you were most definitely drunk.

Seeing you having fun like this had him torn between being happy for you, moving on with your life and probably on to other men too. Being attractive plus the endless number of parties you went to now was just the perfect recipe. You were bound to have found someone.

And this is where the hatred washed over him. He despised it. Hated seeing you have fun without him, moving on as if he had never existed. Was it that easy for you to just forget? It seemed unfair that he was still struggling to keep you off his mind while you were out having the time of your life, letting your followers know of that fact too.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t happy for you at all. He was just trying to kid himself into thinking that he was. Be mature and everything. That was what both of you had agreed to be when your relationship came to an end. After days of what could probably be called a verbal equivalent of a nuclear war, the two of you had given up.

Crying, shouting, complete silence, you had done it all and there was no end in sight. On day three of radio silence, you felt as if you could do without speaking to Changkyun at all. When you brought it up, he admitted he felt the same. Exhaustion making both of you devoid of any emotion, you agreed to disagree and act like the fight had never happened. You were tired and wanted nothing more to do with it. Or each other. Thinking of yourselves as somewhat grown, you decided to be civil since you were in the same circle of friends, not wanting to burden them with any of your problems.

With so many things left unsaid and ties still loose, there was no way that you could just cut clean. But you never so much as bumped into each other since.

You hadn’t blocked each other though, as you both felt that it was some sign of weakness. Yeah, I’m tough enough to keep them on my socials. They don’t bother me. Not at all. But in the small hours of the morning, you were on each other’s profiles, hoping for a glimpse of what they were up to. Wondering if he had finished that song he was working on. If you were eating well. If he was really seeing Jae-in seriously. If you were well and truly happy.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Y/N’s doing just fine for themselves, everyone can see that.

“Did you finish that essay?”

No, that’s too random.

“I think about you all the time.”

Shut up Changkyun.

Though you had both agreed to be ‘friends’, there was no easy way in going about messaging one another when you had fought so explosively. Changkyun also felt that he had missed the right timeframe for him to salvage whatever there was left of the relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic. No matter how much he wanted to message you, his pride falsely masked as maturity stopped him from ever doing more than wish for you to call him and say that everything was going to be ok. That you can start over.

“Do you wanna go to Minhyuk’s house party?” Jae-in’s voice was heavy with sleep, squinting her eyes at the bright screen of her phone. Changkyun was startled from his thoughts, not realising that she had been woken up by a text.

“House party…?” Changkyun was dubious.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just that we don’t ever do anything besides fuck, and I thought we could do with a change of scenery.”

“I mean yeah it’s just that we’ve never hung out with other people before. Like together.”

He had met Jae-in at a bar a few months ago. Holed up in his studio after the breakup, Changkyun got to channelling his anger into working on his music until his course mate Minhyuk persuaded him out for drinks. Minhyuk had flirted with the girls from the table over to get them to join in on the pity party. Jae-in had seated herself next to Changkyun and a few drinks later, they had quickly bonded over their childhood obsession with Death Note to which she followed up with an invitation to watch it at her place. Who was Kyun to reject? With all this pent-up energy to spare, music wasn’t quite cutting it.  

“I doubt anyone will care that we arrived together.” Jae-in shrugged. “Let’s go.”

-

“Yeah, I invited Jae-in and I think Changkyun might come with her too.” Minhyuk stated nonchalantly over the phone. You choked on your wine and thanked God that the music in your room was loud enough to cover the unnatural sound you had just made. “Y/N, is that ok? I should have asked you befo-”

“No, I don’t care.” You replied a little too quickly, “It’s been months and we broke up on good terms anyway, remember?”

“MINNIE! I MISS YOU!” Soobin drunkenly shouted across the room as Yerim held her back from throwing herself at the phone.

“I MISS YOUR FACE TOO, BINNIE! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!” Minhyuk chuckled as he didn’t hesitate to match her volume through the phone.

“Ugh, you two make me sick”, Yerim rolled her eyes, “You literally saw each other this morning. Just get together already.”

As Soobin and Minhyuk continued to chat, engulfed in their own little world, you reached to grab another drink. If Minhyuk’s predictions were right, you were going to need something stronger than wine to get you through the night.

-

Stepping into Minhyuk’s apartment, Changkyun could feel the bass rumble underneath his feet already.

“Hey! You made it! I thought you guys weren’t going to come, it’s so late! But we have drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Oh, and Jae-in, the bathrooms just through the hallway on the right…” Minhyuk’s voice trailed off into the loud music. Changkyun followed behind Jae-in as his friend gave the newcomer a guided tour of his place.

Though he was familiar with the apartment, it felt a little weird for him to walk through it with someone else by his side. A pack of cards strewn over the floor jogged his memory back to a particularly warm night in June. With the sun just beginning to rise, you both stood below Minhyuk’s balcony at 4am. You shouted,

“HEY MINHYUK, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY UNO AT YOUR PLACE, D’YOU WANNA JOIN?”

“THOUGHT WE’D ASK IN CASE YOU’D FEEL LEFT OUT.” Changkyun added. You both snickered as Minhyuk opened his window to shout back at you, regretting that he had ever given you two the spare keys to his apartment.

“ARE YOU REALLY INVITING ME TO PLAY CARDS MY OWN HOUSE RIGHT NOW?!” Birds fluttered away startled, as a neighbouring window flashed on a light in annoyance. Your shouting combined could never top the sheer volume of Minhyuk’s voice. Changkyun grabbed your hand as you ran into the building laughing before the neighbour could join in on the screaming match.

With classes finished for the year, you had what felt like an infinite amount of time on your hands. Kyun smiled to himself as he was reminded of those summer nights that he had spent with you. Stargazing, pillow talking, daydreaming on repeat.

“Yeah, so you can get to the outdoor space through the living room but I’m giving you special access to my little balcony through my room because you’re uh, Changkyun’s friend.” Minhyuk grinned as he ended his tour.

Upon entering the actual party in the lounge, Changkyun stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the other side of the room. For a moment, the smoke in the room seemed to clear as his eyes trained on you throw your head back in laughter at Yerim’s animated storytelling. Hearing your voice so crystal clear made his heart swell with something that he couldn’t quite put into words. Half a year had passed since he had last seen you, sat broken on the floor of your apartment, explaining that it would be best to part ways. You had looked so drained of emotion then; it was such a stark contrast to what he was seeing now. He stood frozen, heart beating hard against his chest like a hammer.

“Kyun! Why are you so late?” Wonho, another friend of Kyun’s appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “You gotta catch up on the drinks now, come on, open your mouth.” Wonho went to grab his face with one hand as he proceeded to try and pour some alcohol into his mouth jokingly. Changkyun chuckled as he play-fought with Wonho only to stop midway when he noticed Jae-in smiling at the sight.

“Oh, this is my friend Jae-in.” Kyun straightened up and brushed off his clothes.

Wonho went to shake her hand as Minhyuk snuck up behind him.

"Yeah, friend.” He giggled as he raised his brows suggestively and left as quickly as he appeared shouting, “Binnie! Where are you? We gotta go make those s’mores you wanted!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes and smiled as he guided Jae-in to the nearest table of drinks and set to introducing her to the rest of his friends, hoping that you wouldn’t notice him.

-

At this point, the three of you were beyond gone. Soobin had already passed out with a s’more in her hand as Minhyuk hauled her over his shoulder to put her to sleep in the guest room.

“And she.. she was telling me to sythensi.. she was telling me thynsenise, no, synsi.. she wanted me to synthesise, there we go, snythi…” Yerim tripped over words, dead set on getting her pronunciation right while Hyungwon sat and nodded with his signature painful smile on his face. She was determined, hand on his shoulder with a grip that let him know he wasn’t going anywhere until she had finished her story.

As for you? You were sat next to Yerim, a vacant smile on your face as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Day drinking followed up with a house party in the evening really wasn’t the best idea for the lightweights that you are but there you were, listening to your friend repeat the same sentence over and over again. An urgent voice in your head piped up, letting you know that you should probably go for a breath of fresh air.

“Yerim, hey, Yerim, I’m.. going for some air… stay with Hyungwon okay? Hyungwon, call me if anything happens?” You stood up, struggling to find your balance and teetered across the room to get to Minhyuk’s balcony.

The thing about you is that you are one of those blessed people that can sober up as quickly as they get smashed. You felt refreshed, taking in a deep breath as if to cleanse your alcohol ridden bloodstreams with the cool evening air. Your head still spun a little but as long as you kept your eyes anchored on the moon, you’d be fine in no time.

As much as your body needed a break from the party, it wasn’t the greatest timing for your mental state. Once you had assumed that Changkyun wasn’t coming to the party, you let go of the anxiety holding you back from enjoying yourself. You had been overstimulated from the alcohol, music, and people, not giving yourself a chance to think about anything else. But once those factors were gone, it was just you, alone with your drunken thoughts on a balcony looking up at the moon. And just like that, those suppressed memories regarding a certain boy couldn’t help but unpack themselves from your unconscious. Oh man, this was going to be such a good cry.

-

Changkyun was beginning to feel a little too tipsy for his liking. Though he was having a great time, it felt as if he wasn’t entirely present at the scene, like he was watching and laughing along through a TV screen. He slipped away from the kitchen island to get a breather.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here.” He apologised, going to close the door of Minhyuk’s balcony to a figure hunched over the railing. You looked up from your hands at him and tried to focus on the blurry face.

His movements faltered when your eyes met, door still open. Just one look at you was enough for that knock back into reality Changkyun had needed. God were you a sight for sore eyes. He drank up the way your cheeks and nose were flushed pink, how your eyes were glossy in the moonlight, eyelashes thick with tears, and the way the softly coloured city lights behind you framed your face. With the night air stained with your perfume and the sounds of muted traffic perfecting the scene, he had never felt so in the present until now. He wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

“Changkyun?” You replied, as you wiped your eyes clear of the tears blurring your vision. You could tell that voice apart anywhere, you only questioned in the slight chance that you were just hallucinating, going insane.

“Are you ok? I can leave if you want, I-” He began hurriedly, knowing that you hated having anyone see you cry.

“I’m fine.” You sniffed.

“Bad day?” He asked softly, bringing himself to stand next to you, looking over at the cityscape.

“Yeah, something like that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh as you wiped the last of the tears from your face. 

Tension hung so thick in the air you could feel it weigh down on your shoulders. Changkyun hated that you, the person he had once shared the deepest parts of his mind with, was someone he was now so uncomfortable with.

You both stood there awhile, looking out at the blinking lights of the cityscape. As quiet as it was, you could almost hear the sound of your brains whirring, going back and forth over whether or not you should say something to break the silence. Changkyun had spent months thinking of questions he wanted to ask you for when this moment came, but the alcohol and nerves fogged up his mind. All he could think of doing was holding you in his arms, hoping for you to be able to feel his apologies, sincerity and promises through the beating of his chest.

A heavy pressing in your lungs only intensified, as you thought about how the present situation had become the outcome of those few perfect years. You regulated your breathing, trying to break down the lump from coming up in your throat, on the verge of tears again. Thinking back, you realised that you probably could have been a little more understanding, could have softened your sharp words, could have opened your heart up some more to allow for Changkyun to do so in return. These thoughts and emotions bubbled up inside your chest to spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you wanted to say.

“Changkyun, I-”

“I found a really nice place for nights like this. Y/N.” he cut across with an anxious tremble in his voice. He could feel the apology ready to tumble from your lips, he had to stop you from apologising for things that you really didn’t need to. He hated that your heart was so big and so loving that you were willing to start trying to mend this relationship first. But he hated himself more for not having the courage to try to be even half as loving as you are.

He continued, still looking out over the balcony, worried that he’d start to tear up if he met your eyes again, “you can see the stars so clearly, it’s insane.”

You turned to him, tears welling in your eyes again. Despite having cut each other from your lives for what felt like a lifetime, it broke you how he could still read you like his favourite book.

“Can we go? Y/N? I’ve waited so long to show you.”

Hot tears fell down your cheeks again as Changkyun noticed and turned to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried out the mess of emotions you had amassed. 

The person you had wanted to talk about your breakup with Changkyun the most, was so ironically Changkyun. He’d know how to calm you down, how to sort out your problems with ice cream in bed like any other issue you were facing. But what were you supposed to do when you had cut the one who understood you the most so bluntly from your life? Who were you supposed to turn to when you wanted to talk about that?

Your cries pierced into his heart deeper with every second that passed, feeling the hurt in your voice in the deepest parts of his soul. He replied by holding you tighter, and you could feel all those things he left unsaid that day you left in the warmth of his chest.

“We don’t have to rush,” He whispered into your hair, “I have all the time in the world for you. Let it out.”

He brought a hand up from your shoulders hesitantly, feeling almost undeserving of comforting you after the pain he had caused you. But to you, his hand stroking your hair was where you found your solace.

So, there you stood, in each other’s arms having poured out your hearts to one another without having said a single word. But you both knew that you felt every single one.

[jasmine-the-fox]

I did the work... You guys were lazy

For this salt fic, I want you all to see what happens to the class for believing Lila and her lies and leaving behind Marinette... Also Damienette ship!!

For years Marinette didn’t think about her old class... Caline Bustier’s class was gone like the wind to her when she left Paris to go to Gotham for college, there were times when Alya and some of them will text her old number about demands of baked goods, dresses or new date Adrien plans... She would ignore them and at one point got rid of her phone as she was done with them, the only people she spoke to was Chloe who never believed Lila and even worked hard to be forgiven by Mari, Sabrina did so much research on Lila with Max that they too were forgiven with time, then was Alix who was visited by a furious Bunnix who showed Alix her future if she follows Lila.

Nathaniel was also someone who believe Mari, from the start he thought Lila was strange and one day with Marc spoke to Mari and has been loyal to her... Lastly was Kitty section, Luka was furious with them for listening to Lila about music and warned them about him quitting if they keep this up, after a while they heard Mari crying to Luka about what Lila did to her and they ended up leaving Lila, outside the class was of course Luka and Marc, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, Ondine and Felix who is Adrien’s cousin, he was furious when Chloe told him about Adrien’s take the higher road line he told Mari.

Each of her friends did sadly go to different places and she only had Chloe with her in Gotham but that was fine with her, she still texted and did video calls with them so that was fine to her... And then she met Damian Wayne, the boy was cold and rarely spoke to anyone unless for a project he had to do in a team, slowly she began talking to him outside of class and that made him at some point want to speak with her about anything at all that wasn’t even related to school, with time Chloe helped her with there friends to change Marinette’s style, she went from pigtails to her hair down or in a braid, from white pink and gray to black and other kinds of colors.

She also began to wear make-up and she opened up a website for her designs, a blog so people can see tips and tricks on how to do things with clothes or how to fix something, she also took down all her previous accounts she had with the class following her and opened new accounts for her real friends to be seen with her, Damian would glare when his brother’s would talk about a new post on her social media or on her blog while his father often commissions her for clothes, this caused for her to become famous in Gotham and Clark interview her... Making her also famous in Metropolis.

And while she was becoming famous while still in school... Her class was losing there dreams, Alya was the first one to go through this, Nadja Chamack got to interview Lois Lane who ripped into the Ladyblog by pointing out posts she made that were lies and the consequences that would have happened if certain people saw them... Leading to her blog being taken down, she with Lila got sued and Lila was exposed as the liar she was including the bonus of Lila being deported back to Italy to live with her grand-parents who were sending her to a private school.

Slowly everyone including Adrien were targeted, Adrien being found out as Lila revealed that he and Marinette were the only ones who knew she was lying from the start... He was homeschooled once again but was able to go to college, he picked one his friends were going to with the grades they had but they all glared at him... But none of them thought to apologize to Mari for bullying her and claiming her to be a liar... Not until there bank accounts were frozen because there parents received from Tom and Sabine bills for each of there kids for baked goods, clothes, babysitting that Alya and Nino put on her at the last minute for a date and anything else that they never paid back.

That’s when they remembered Marinette, they all began trying to call and text her... But her number wasn’t available anymore as it wasn’t use so they couldn’t talk to her, Alya thought she was being petty while Adrien thought Mari was being selfish, with time they got back to work on what they wanted... And then they saw Mari on the news in Metropolis as an up coming designer, Gabriel Agreste saw a solution to the problem Lila brought to his work and told Adrien to try and talk to her and see if she would date him... Except Adrien didn’t have her current number.

It took some time but Gabriel ended up being invited to a Wayne Gala, he took his son and instructed him to try and get Marinette’s new number to try and then date her, Adrien was certain it would all go well and he would get her new number... Then everyone will be able to contact her and things will go back to normal for them, when they got there, Adrien began looking for Mari but saw Chloe with Damian Wayne and some girl with short hair, he decided to ignore them for now and focus on searching for Mari but couldn’t find her at all.

“Adrien? I’m surprised that your here since your father always comes alone” he turned to find Chloe and the girl from earlier, Damian wasn’t with them now and was instead talking to some guests “Hey there Chlo, my dad heard about Mari on the news and wanted to meet her and so I was just trying to find her for him” he explained as the girl looked annoyed at him while Chloe looked disappointed “Mari has been next to me from the start... You should have come over the moment you got here” she said as Adrien looked shocked at Marinette, her hair was now chin length, her dress was a beautiful red dress with a beautiful dragon design.

Chloe had to then walk away to speak with a guest, leaving the two alone, Adrien began trying to start a conversation but Mari simply went with short and simple answers... No going into detail of things, this was not the Marinette Dupain-Cheng he knew so he had to do something, he then began asking her if she could show him around Gotham while he was here, if she would like to have lunch with him at some point and even if she would like to dance with him... She said straight up no and didn’t give him a reason as to why, still wanting her number to begin contacting her, he decided to wait until she was drinking wine before snatching her phone from her purse and adding her number to his phone and sending it to the class before putting it back into her purse.

He just had to tell her she gave it to him while she was a little drunk, it would be just fine in the end and nothing would go wrong... He was wrong, the next day, police came to arrest him for stealing her phone and sending her number to others who contacted her the whole night... He tried to defend himself but security camera’s caught him stealing her phone and slipping it back, he was being sued and a restraining order was on him to stay away from her while she once again changed her number and ended up telling her clients about it... Gabriel was disappointed in his son for he had to go meet with her to try and fix everything... While trying to get her to agree to going on a date with his son.

She was already dating Damian though.

He found out when he saw them together, Damian had called her Angel and they kissed before he left, she refused to go on a date with his son or to remove the restraining order on his son... But Gabriel won’t give up “Make one of them hate the other, anything will do but make one of them dump the other!” he ordered his son who nodded to the demand, since Adrien couldn’t get close to Mari... He had to aim for Damian, he decided to us a few pictures he took of her in the past to make Damian think she has been dragging around a bunch of guys and girls, he didn’t care that Nino and Kim knew from childhood, he also didn’t care that Chloe and Kagami were in a relationship with one another, he didn’t care about Luka and Felix’ pride.

He was going to win this no matter what... He will make his father proud of him.

He was sent back to Paris to be put in jail there three days later, he really didn’t know what went wrong, all he did was show Damian the pictures and told him a few lies about her... And next thing he knew police was at his hotel room door and took him away to get to the airport to get to Paris, what he didn’t know was that Damian had seen those very pictures on Mari’s old friends and current friends social medias, so he knew he was lying from the start and called the police about it, Gabriel tried to stop them but he too was sent back to Paris for Nathalie had given the police a recording of Gabriel telling Adrien to try and get Mari’s number and have her date him.

Because of this both of there miraculous were taken, since Ladybug was now part of Batman’s team and had warned the police about the Agreste father and son having one each, Nathalie of course gave up her’s with the info and then returned early to Paris to take care of things there... And get Lila into even more trouble as she did work with Hawkmoth all this time, even so it wasn’t over, after a while in prison Adrien was released but not his father, after that Adrien saw his friends and fixed everything with them since he did get Mari’s number for them... If only for a while, so they forgave him, Adrien ended up getting the whole Agreste fortune and he then sold the mansion and the fashion company to live in an apartment.

His friends all worked hard to save up money to have a class reunion, with time everything was planned out and they got the whole class notified about it so they know when it happens and where to go at what time, they were so happy to have it happen as they couldn’t wait to see everyone, when the day came they were shocked at the friends they thought were evil...

Max and Sabrina ended up getting married, it was big and hard to get into a news reporter was able to find out from Sabrina that her dress was made by Marinette herself, Kitty section ended up breaking up, Juleka was now a model for Mari while Rose became a writer, Mylène was now a famous actress and happily married to Ivan who was now a famous song writer, Chloe and Kagami also got married, Chloe was Marinette’s assistant while Kagami opened up a Tsurugi fencing school in Gotham, Luka was now following Jagged Stone and becoming a famous singer and guitar player, Nathaniel become her website artist, helping her redesign her site page depending on new themes and seasons while Felix was Marinette’s image manager.

They were all there, even Lila... But Marinette was nowhere in sight, they all tried getting answers but the gang had ignored them, Aurore, Ondine, Mireille and Marc found it funny that they would try to get answers on Mari after all this time they had bullied her, Marinette then walked in arm in arm with Damian Wayne, they looked amazing in there outfits, just like all of her friends as they too were wearing her designs, the two walked around to greet her friends and see how they were doing since the last time they had spoken together, Alya and the gang tried to talk to her but all she did was ignore them... Lila on the other hand glared at Mari.

Everything Marinette was doing and getting... Should have been her, Lila should have been the one to meet Damian Wayne, she should be the one dating him, SHE should be the one becoming famous! But no! She was found out as being dangerous, working with a villain like Hawkmoth destroyed everything she could hope for... Now she worked part-time at some little restaurant in Italy being barely paid much with the hopes of meeting some rich guy to sweep her off her feet, she looked at times towards Adrien, he may no longer be a model for his father’s designs but he was now modeling for an agency who knew of what he liked, disliked and wanted to work in.

Even so she was disappointed when she saw how Adrien was focused on Mari, he still wanted to be with her,  he began walking towards “Agreste! You know that the restraining order is still on you! Take one more step towards Mari and I will call the cops!” Chloe shouted making the other’s of the class look at her in shock, Restraining order? On Adrien? To not get close of sweet innocent Marinette? Chloe must be lying, so of course Alya snapped back with Nino on her side on how Adrien has a right to greet Mari, they claim he’s allowed to go see her and insist he does, Kim pushes him forward towards Mari while Sabrina calls her dad to inform him about Adrien breaking the restraining order.

He got there in just a few minutes...

“Mister Agreste due to the fact that you broke the restraining order miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng placed on you after you stole her phone during a Wayne gala and then sent her number to an unknown number of people you will be coming with me to the station” Roger said as he cuffed Adrien and forced him to follow to his police car, Alya, Nino, Kim and Lila were in a massive shock at this... So Chloe was right, Marinette did put a restraining order on Adrien... Because they wanted her number to talk to her again since she changed it after all this time, and now here she was, changed and not allowing them to talk to her and to apologize for what they did.

The whole event ended and by morning everyone was on a plane to get back to where they live or are to be staying for work, about a week later Alya found out in the paper that Marinette was going to become a Wayne soon, she so badly wanted to report about in order to help her make it big so she with Nino got to the airport and paid for plane tickets to Gotham to speak with her, they found where she worked and begged to see her “Alya? Nino? Can I ask why your here in Gotham?” they turned to find Mari with Damian, they were just about to leave for lunch when she saw them “Mari! Gurl you NEED to let me report about your wedding! This could give me a huge break and get to become a reporter again!” Alya claimed as Mari glared at her.

“What do you mean by again? Alya all this time, you were not a reporter... You were the owner of a tabloid that posted every single lie Lila spoke to you, and as for this big break of yours it was destroyed the second Lois spoke about the Ladyblog, try anywhere and they will reject you because Lois is the one who reveals who is a good reporter... And those who are like you... Trash under our feet” Mari hissed and began walking with her fiancé too the door until she turned to the front desk “Alissa, please get these two on the blacklist and kick them out, I don’t want to see this trash by the street when I get back” she said and walked out like this wasn’t anything new for her to say.

Marinette worked hard to get to where she was... With the help of her friends and Damian... But her three remaining classmates all believed that Lila would help them skip up to the lifestyle she has now... But everyone knows you need to put the effort into things to get there.

[a-libra-writes]

Belonging - Stannis Baratheon x Wife!Reader

this is 1000% self indulgent and gift to myself after having an awful time LMAO please enjoy. i love this man so much. excuse the terrible title yall know i think of them absolutely last

Summary: Takes place around the time Robert was crowned, when Stannis and the Reader are married for less than a year. Robert’s drunkenness results in some jealousy and misunderstandings (and making up).

There was one thing she had to admit about the Southerners, at least the ones in King’s Landing: They could certainly throw a party.

Lady Y/N couldn’t count how many she’d been to in the past year, or even the past month. It was just another pastime in King’s Landing, as natural to the highborns as drinking wine and wearing silk. If there was no pressing matter for him to attend to, and if he was bored, King Robert would have a feast.

Hells, he’d throw one even if the city gates were on fire, goblet in one hand and his axe in another. And as an honored sister-in-law, Y/N was invited to every gathering. Naturally the invitation was extended to Stannis, but no one expected her husband to actually attend. When they first married he’d gone for her sake, and for the sake of appearances, but that was no longer needed after nearly a year of being together.

Y/N had mixed feelings about that. She didn’t want Stannis to be miserable and on edge the whole evening, because he would be, but she was willing to admit she missed him. Sitting on the dais in her honored seat, it wouldn’t matter who sat at her left, because her attention would be on Stannis, who always sat to her right. At first it was her expected wifely duty to attend with him. To ensure they both looked as a pair, their houses united for the sake of the king… even if the king and his queen were constantly squabbling. That made Y/N and her husband’s united front even more important.

Stannis didn’t like to shout at her above the feast-goers, so he’d lean in, and she’d do the same until their shoulders pressed together. That small contact used to make him tense, but eventually he relaxed into it, just like they both relaxed into the conversation that would pass. Who was drinking too much, who was attending for the first time in years, when the madness would be over and they could go back to their quarters. Talking to Stannis became easy, and eventually they’d just pick up whatever conversation was left off before the feast. It would be nearly midnight, with revelers laughing and dancing and passing out all around them, and Stannis and Y/N would still be talking back and forth on the dais.

They didn’t just do that, though. She could coax him into a dance, taking his thin hand in her’s and pulling him to his feet. During their firsts feasts together, it was all show. Look at the newlyweds: the humorless brother of the king and his wild Northern bride. They were an act, a sideshow, and Y/N was determined to quiet the snickers and smirks. Stannis tolerated two dances, and he was stiff as a board the entire time, but Y/N was graceful. She could smile and silently guide him through, and soon, they blended in with the rest of the crowd. People stopped gawking when it became clear he wouldn’t stumble and she knew the Southern songs.

He still hated it, but when he saw her looking longingly at dancing pairs, Stannis would stare at her hand before carefully moving his fingers over her’s. Y/N’s excited eyes would meet his, and he’d reflexively squeeze her hand, pleased he could bring that light to her face. He would still only do the minimum amount of dances, but now they moved together, and they stood closer. He didn’t need her guidance to know where his feet should go next. And if the crowd was thinning out and paying more attention to their drinks than the music, he could hear her witty remarks about the guests and give his own.

They left early compared to the other revelers, and especially compared to the king. There would still be laughter and voices echoing off the halls as they disappeared into the vastness of the Red Keep. Y/N would take off her shoes and hold onto his arm, her mind spinning from sleepiness and drink, and Stannis would guide her back to their quarters, which always seemed too far away. Often he’d hold her shoes, once he carried her.

Y/N frowned as she recalled all this. There wouldn’t be any of that tonight - she couldn’t talk to Stannis, or dance with him, or lean on his broad shoulders on the way back. Yes, she had her little friends and acquaintances, but that wasn’t the same. She was startled by how much her heart tugged at her, like it wanted to pull her out of her seat and lead her toward the person she was missing.

My friends wanted me to attend, and I made all this effort on my gown and hair. I ought to stay at least another hour. Y/N had been looking forward to the food and music, but as the minutes passed, all the voices and the stuffiness of the hall began to irk her. She’d been to these parties alone before and hadn’t felt this pitiful. I need to get ahold of myself and have some fun, damn it.

At least King Robert and Queen Cersei had long left the dais, off to do their mingling separately. They stayed apart as much as possible, Y/N observed. She slipped off the dais herself, determined to find someone she knew and get herself a dance. She carefully lifted her black gown, letting the back trail gracefully as she crossed into the crowd. It was one of Y/N’s favorite gowns, a beautifully slimming dress made of chiffon that hugged at her waist. The skirt was long and luxurious, fluttering behind her as she made the smallest movements. In the light, the gold thread that was woven through the black fabric shimmered and gave the effect of her body sparkling.

Y/N only needed modest jewelry and a simple belt of black diamonds and gold to accessorize it; she felt her body and the gown were statement enough. When she walked, she allowed herself to indulge in the power her status brought. Being the sister-in-law of a King, few could approach her directly. She could refuse dances, refuse conversation. Lords could leer, but they couldn’t hope to have her direct attention, and they had to keep a respectful distance. It was a far cry from the feasts from when Y/N was a girl freshly flowered, and her father wouldn’t stop parading her around eligible men, like a slab of fresh lamb on a platter. Those humiliating days were over.

She raised her chin and exuded the confidence she felt. An older woman passed her, then stopped and looked twice. Her eyes brightened with shameless delight. “Lady Y/N! What an honor! Please, would you grace my family with a few words? My daughter would so love to speak to you.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, but her face remained steady. She faintly recalled this woman and her house - an old Kingslander family - but she didn’t need to remember names. She just had to say, “Lead the way, my lady,” And the woman practically giggled as she did so.

From there she was bounced from family to family, dancing here and socializing there. Y/N was good with her words, and a few times she ran into a friend that gave her an escape when the conversation became too much. When that gnawing loneliness would bite at her, Y/N would quickly move to another dance partner. It was funny to feel so lonely in the middle of a feast, but here she was, glancing longingly at the open doorways as if he’d actually walk through them.

Once her feet started aching, Y/N felt the need to call it a night. That gnawing in her chest had turned into a bruise that someone wouldn’t stop touching. The pinching shoes were just making it worse. She sat down on a bench to lift her skirt slightly and look at the damage - no blisters yet, but that could change. Y/N glanced around, wondering what time it was. Her first thought was: Is he still awake?

She could just picture Stannis hunched over his desk, muttering irritably over a collection of papers. Or maybe she’d catch him in a calmer mood, reading a book by the hearth or getting ready for bed.

I need to control myself. I doubt he thinks of me as much.

That wasn’t a pleasant thought, so she set it aside. Y/N stood, wincing as the pain shot from her feet to her calves. She’d throw the shoes out as soon as she was back.

Y/N passed a boisterous circle of people on her way to the door, and she knew who caused it. King Robert was sitting on top of a table, loudly singing war songs with the old lords and their sons who had fought for him. Y/N glanced back a moment, watching them with amusement. The King was completely drunk, there was no question of that, but he was full of mirth and life. His blue eyes sparkled as he tipped his drink to a lord that hit a high note, then someone made a jap and everyone laughed again.

He reminded her of one of her brothers, one who was always laughing and didn’t take anything seriously. Y/N understood why men followed the king into battle, and why they liked him now. She understood why others misliked him. Personally, she was unsure if laughter, drink and song were the right recipe for a king.

When she turned away and nearly stepped over the threshold into the dark hall, she heard him. It was impossible not to hear that booming voice. “Y/N! Where are you going, sister? Have you always been here?”

Oh, hells. Y/N turned around and put a smile on her face. It’s not that she had no particular bad feelings toward Robert, he was just so much, and she was tired. He reeked of wine when he approached her, as expected, just as she expected his wild black hair and more practical clothes. Even when he was full of wine, his strength and height were imposing compared to Y/N. She understood how he could kill Rhaegar Targaryen.

“You seem to be having a lovely night, your grace,” Y/N said, planning words for escape. “Everyone is enjoying the feast as much as you are, that is plain to see. It’s all a bit too much for me.”

The smile he returned was also expected. Drunk men were not difficult to flatter. “Glad you made it, Y/N. You know Stannis never wants to bother. Surprised he didn’t keep you from it.”

“Well, he doesn’t dictate what I can or can’t do.”

To Y/N’s confusion, Robert found the comment hilarious and almost spilled his wine as he laughed. “Damned right. My brother always thinks he has the right to order others around.”

She flushed in embarrassment. Y/N hadn’t meant it like that. Rather, she and Stannis were independent. He wasn’t controlling like some husbands could be, and treated her like her own person, besides. Robert drained the last of his wine and tossed the goblet carelessly. It hit a table and rolled off the side.

“We should dance, Y/N. There’s damn good musicians tonight.”

“... If you wish, your grace. I could manage one.”

Damn it all. It was just the thing she wanted to avoid. Y/N hoped he wouldn’t rope her into half a dozen dances; ideally, he’d get bored or nauseous after a while... Or better, a busty serving girl would pass and his attention would be completely taken away.

“You ought to call me Robert!” He insisted as they settled into position. Robert towered over Y/N even more, but he held her loosely in his large hands. “All these damned titles. I think some men already forgot my name.”

“It’s a matter of respect - and they could never forget their king.” Y/N said, but he probably wasn’t listening. Several nobles and courtiers were watching them, and it made her embarrassment all the worse. She tried to keep up with his long steps, and Robert held her closer as he avoided a stumble. She prayed they were all too drunk to remember this, or notice who she was.

At least he was able to avoid crashing into other dancing pairs. The King looked down at Y/N with a puzzled expression. “Where is Stannis, anyway?”

Where do you think he is? Y/N thought, but said, “Attending to his work, I presume.”

“What work? What in the seven hells could he be doing, leaving you here?”

“I’m attending on my own, your grace.” Y/N said patiently. “I’ve hardly been ‘left’. Stannis prefers quiet to crowds, as you know.”

“Don’t I know it. He’s always been strange.” Robert grunted. He was lost in thought for a moment, or perhaps he had a spot of dizziness from the drink. Again, he looked down at her, but Y/N was perplexed by what he could find interesting. She wished the song was over already. This silence was uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Robert said with a laugh, “Imagine, if Stannis got stuck with that lioness instead. Her curse of a father would never allow it, but - ha! I’d like to see who’d win. Can’t sharpen her claws on stone.”

Y/N had no idea how to respond to that. Was he referring to Stannis marrying Cersei? What did that have to do with anything? “Your grace, I …”

“Would’ve been better if it was you and me, hm?”

Robert’s large hand slipped dangerously low on her waist, and the way he so casually slid his fingers down her side made Y/N’s blood turn to ice. He held her closer still, grinning like there was some secret between the two of them. The iciness spread to her gut and squeezed it hard.

Y/N hastily glanced around, wondering if anyone noticed - for a fleeting second, if anyone would save her. Her heels squeezed her feet as they danced, the aching returning with a vengeance. Robert had her in an iron grip, and he kept stroking her hip.

“He isn’t any good, I bet,” Robert mumbled, the drink beginning to affect him now. They swayed a little, and he leaned down, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Bet he doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Your grace. The song is over.”

It wasn’t, but she tried to pull away. Robert blinked, swaying with her sudden movement. He righted the two of them. “There’s still plenty of night left, Y/N. I’ll get us a better drink, this Dornish swill doesn’t sit with me.”

Let go! Her head screamed. The discomfort and sickness in her stomach reached a peak, and she all put pushed at his muscular body. Y/N stumbled back, her heels pinching her hard. “E-Excuse me, your grace,” She hurried through an excuse without looking at him. “I feel ill. I should rest.”

She didn’t bother to listen to Rober’s response. Y/N turned on her heel and skittered away, not caring about the looks she received as she darted through the crowd to the hallway. Away from the feast, the Keep’s red stone halls were cold and soothing. She picked a doorway and took herself as far as her biting heels would allow. It wasn’t until she reached a dead end that Y/N took in a deep breath of air and slid down to her knees. She heard seams pop in her dress from the swift movement.

She took in another breath, slowly released it, then took in another. The ice in her veins had turned to bile in her stomach. She oriented herself and staggered her way to the private apartments meant for the family of the king.

The door opened suddenly. The only evidence of Stannis’ surprise was how sharply his eyes glanced up. He was in the same place she left him, doing the same thing - sifting through a storm of paperwork on a desk. She hurried to the bedchambers.

She flopped on the bed, feeling her hairnet coming loose and hearing several more seams popping. The dress was too damned tight. She sucked in a breath and began unlacing it, grateful a handmaiden didn’t wait up for her. They were kind, but they hovered, and she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. Y/N’s head began to pound, and she tried to concentrate on undoing the dress without tearing any more of it.

There was a knock at the door, and she flinched, then sighed. Of course he’d knock. “Come in.”

Stannis never seemed entirely comfortable coming in when she dressed, even if it was his bedroom too. He averted his eyes as Y/N worked her dress off. “You’ve returned early.”

Y/N cleared her voice to make sure it was steady, and blinked her eyes a few times to keep the stinging at bay. “Is it early? I was already so tired.”

They had silence before, but this felt oppressing. Y/N tried to ignore it. She gave up on removing the dress; her braids and hairpins were a chore to remove, so they’d be a welcome distraction. Maybe he’d go back to his work, and she could go to bed and just pretend this night didn’t --

In a few steps, Stannis crossed the room and knelt before her. Y/N’s hair fell to her shoulders as she pulled the last pin, but her hand stayed suspended as she looked at him questioningly. Even in the candlelight, she saw a blush tinging his cheeks. He avoided her gaze and unlaced her heels, carefully holding her ankle as he pulled them off.

Carefully. Gently. She was instantly reminded of harsh hands gripping her, and the feeling of ice running up her limbs returned. Before Y/N could say anything, Stannis quickly stood and put her shoes away.

Y/N curled her legs up to her chest and tucked her feet under her skirts. “Thank you.”

“You have blisters.” Stannis said. “Should I get an ointment?”

“No,” Y/N murmured. She peeked at her toes and saw how red they were. She could feel the throbbing on her heels and ankles, too.

“You should have them made anew, or just toss them. This happened before.”

“Did it?” Y/N tried to remember the last time she wore the shoes. She faintly recalled that’s when Stannis carried her up the stairs to their apartment. Did she really wear these shoes back then? Maybe she kept them so he’d carry her again.

Stannis returned to her side, kneeling down again. He was so tall, they were still eye-to-eye. Not only did the candlelight make his blush more obvious, it made his blue eyes look nearly black. A pair of unfocused, lust-filled blue eyes flashed across her vision, and she squeezed one of the cold hairpins in her hand to focus. It was like night and day.

“You didn’t …” Stannis started to say, breaking Y/N out of her unpleasant memory. “You usually … say goodnight.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, but not in an unpleasant way. True, she usually walked to his desk to kiss him hello, and then a goodnight once she was dressed down and ready for bed. She’d urge him into bed, since he was clearly exhausted … and she may or may not have had certain ulterior motives.

“I’m sorry, Stannis. I’m rather tired.” Y/N said. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and their noses brushed as she pulled away. Stannis closed his eyes, as if taking in her warmth and smell. A terrible thought occurred, if he could smell the alcohol and sweat and somehow, Robert.

Stannis frowned slightly. “Does your head trouble you?”

I bet he isn’t any good.

“Yes,” Y/N said quickly. “I … I don’t feel well.”

He doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.

She felt warm hands on her cheeks, then on her forehead. Stannis’ brow was furrowing in that way he always did, but instead of trying to solve ledgers and paperwork, he was puzzling over … her. Y/N’s cheeks warmed under that serious gaze, and she self-consciously looked away.

“I’ll fetch some water.” Stannis said, finally breaking the silence. It was clear he had more to say, but as always, his tongue ended up tied around her. By the time Stannis returned, Y/N was in her nightgown and nestled in bed. She hadn’t bothered to brush her hair out, or wash her face, which was so unlike her. With a frown, he set the water down and tucked her in. Perhaps she would feel better in the morning - and she’d wake to a good breakfast and a drawn bath.

Y/N felt just as disoriented and ugly waking up as she did falling asleep. She’d slept in far later than she had before, and opted to stay in the bedroom to nurse her hangover and lingering negative emotions. The handmaidens doted on her, spurred by Stannis’ concern - when she finally did wake, there was ointment, a hot bath and a large breakfast waiting for her.

When she next saw him, Y/N pretended she was better. It was easy to do that when her kisses and thankfulness were genuine. That made Stannis believe she really was better, that it was only a hangover, exhausting evening and bad shoes.

In time, Y/N could press that unpleasant night to the back of her mind. She could have never told Stannis because it would only cause trouble, and besides, what could he do? Robert was king. Nothing really happened. If she said anything, her friends would roll their eyes, insist it wasn’t that bad, or be openly jealous at having the attention of the king. She would pretend it was fine, and forget.

The rest of the courtiers wouldn’t do the same, however. There were whispers that grew into words. There were those who wanted gossip, those who had ill intent to begin with, those who were bored and wanted something new to gasp at. They all helped the words and rumors spread, and Y/N blocked them all out, taking refuge in her royal apartments. She never expected they’d reach Stannis; Usually he ignored the asinine gossip that spread around the Red Keep - the only thing that spread faster was the lover’s pox, he said. He never believed any of it, never even entertained listening to it.

Until he figured out what the handmaidens, knights, servants and lords and lords’ wives were tittering about. It was all the same thing.

For once, the young Baratheon didn’t think. He could barely see, let alone reason, with all the rage flowing through him. Anyone who saw him storm down the hall couldn’t deny he was a Baratheon. The anger in his blue eyes was like a summer hurricane.

He put all of his strength into throwing open the heavy doors to Robert’s private visiting chambers. All three of its occupants - Robert, Jon Arryn and Ser Jaime - startled from the abrupt noise. Jaime, who was normally quick to his sword, faltered when he saw who was the source of that noise.

Robert had already set down his drink. He wasn’t startled enough to drop it, but he did carelessly spill on the polished wood table. Robert anticipated something mundane wound up his little brother - taxes not adding up, maybe he forgot a meeting with a lord, something stupid like that. “Seven hells, Stannis, what’s got you fired up --”

“Keep your godsdamned hands to yourself, or I’ll cut them off!”

Robert nearly choked on his tongue, and Lord Arryn almost joined him. The old man was normally so quick to settle his former ward’s temper, but he hadn’t ever seen the same kind of wrath in Stannis. His mind was rushing for words to calm the man, but Jaime responded with action. The kingsguard stepped forward, his hand on his sword. “Is that a threat to your king, Lord Stannis?”

“What did it bloody sound like? Do I need to repeat myself?” Stannis’ teeth gritted. He didn’t even glance at Jaime.

Now it was Robert’s turn to flare his temper. “What the seven hell’s wrong with you, Stannis? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Lord Arryn stepped between Robert, who was now standing, and his brother. The only other thing between them was a long mahogany table, now looking as small and pitiful as driftwood. “Your Grace, Lord Stannis - please take a moment and compose yourselves. Ser Jaime, there’s no need for --”

“You’ll show respect to your older brother, and your king!”

“I won’t give anything to a drunken lecher that would interfere with my wife!”

Robert jumped to his feet, and for a second, Jaime was sure he’d throw the table. It wouldn’t be difficult for the giant of a man. At the same time, Stannis reached for his waist, and Robert reached for his shoulder… and in an instant they both realized they weren’t armed, and thank the gods for that. Jaime didn’t doubt the servants would be scrubbing Stannis’ guts off the floor for days.

“Enough!” Lord Arryn bellowed. Slight as he was, he could have a commanding voice. “This is madness! What is your grievance toward His Grace, Lord Stannis? Has something happened?”

“He would know.” Stannis said. “At the last feast -- you disrespected Y/N, and her honor. You treated her like one of your whores.”

Robert’s face flushed red, and it was Jaime’s guess if that was from anger, embarrassment or the wine he was drinking earlier. Jaime had heard such rumors himself, and more scandalous ones, but he didn’t put stock in them. Plenty worse was said about himself. His green eyes went to the old man - based off Lord Arryn’s grave expression, he might have heard more. He might know the truth. Jaime felt a sudden surge of anger toward the king, not the first time he’d felt this. Cersei will have far worse to say to him when she hears about this

“I didn’t go that far,” Robert tried to regain his voice and authority. “Damn you, Stannis, I wouldn’t lay a hand on her! I can't even remember the blasted feast ... I woke up half-sick in my room.”

His strong tone began to falter as Robert tried to replay the night in his mind. It was clear he couldn't - as usual, wine had muddled his memories. No one in the room expected Stannis to take that as a valid excuse. "You did interfere, you just don't remember. You're always drinking too much, whoring too much --"

"I'm king and I'll do as I damn well please!" Robert said defensively. "There's no bloody law saying a king can't drink or touch a woman!"

"If the next one you touch is Y/N, I'll take care of you myself.”

Threats often lost their effect if you repeated them, but the words had a new menace with Stannis’ expression attached to them. His eyes could have been glaciers, and a chill settled upon the room as the three men remembered this is the man who often cut the hands of thieves and gelded rapists. He outlasted the Tyrell siege, and cut the fingers of the smuggler who helped him survive it. It was not that Stannis was a butcher, but he was fierce in what he thought was just, and he had the unyielding drive to see it done.

Lord Arryn was the first to break the cold spell that set upon them. He stepped forward, putting a hand gingerly on Stannis’ shoulder. The younger man didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look, either. Lord Arryn said with a low voice, “Let us speak outside, Lord Stannis. Please.”

The brothers stared each other down, and for the first time since knowing the King, Jaime watched him falter. His great shoulders sagged just slightly, and his eyebrows knit together. Robert wanted to say something, but finding the words was the problem. Jaime didn’t understand why until he finally spoke.

“Stannis, I… ... I don’t remember a thing, I swear it. I wouldn’t have done anything to your Y/N.”

The Kingslayer blinked. He’d never heard regret in Robert’s voice, and he wouldn’t hear it for some time. Lord Arryn was not surprised, only relieved.

Stannis was the implacable one. This didn’t satisfy him, not in the slightest. The oldest Baratheon had always done as he pleased, regardless of the consequences. He expected others to nod their heads and follow along, if they weren’t already encouraging him. So many did that, blind to the consequences Robert was dragging them into. This was just another slight he paid to his own brother, but Stannis felt this one especially hard. Of all the women in the Red Keep, Robert had to disrespect his -

No, it wasn’t right to refer to Y/N that way. She was not property, Stannis would never refer to her as that, nor should anyone. He was thinking of the other sense of the word, the other way to belong to someone. That way was far more binding than any marriage, and as illogical and senseless as it was, Stannis wanted it. This latest stint of Robert’s drunken foolishness made him realize if Y/N wanted anyone, she could have them. She was beautiful of course, but she had that wit, that intellect, that capacity to understand others and help them understand her. In the months they’d been married, he’d found himself relaxing in her presence, then being comforted by it, then actively wanting it. Desiring it.

Stannis bristled at the intrusive thoughts, but they were the truth. He hadn’t the slightest idea what she thought of him, if she was only performing and giving him the support expected of a wife, if she’d do this with any husband she’d been arranged to marry. He never had the nerve to ask. He couldn’t ask, fearing the answer.

Suddenly, he felt the old man’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and Stannis finally looked at Lord Arryn’s steady face. Calm as it was, his eyes were entreating Stannis to say something, or better, to leave it all behind. He realized he’d been silent for some time. They wanted him to forget all about it, like he should forget about Storm’s End and Dragonstone. Stannis grit his teeth, ignoring the shot of pain that went up his jaw. There was nothing he could say that would get through to his stubborn aurochs of an older brother.

“Just stay away from her,” He managed to say, his voice bouncing off the mostly empty chambers. He didn’t bother to say any more, or close the double doors as he left.

On any other day, Stannis made a point to walk carefully through the Red Keep. Unpopular as he was, his presence and reputation was still important to the throne. He and Robert were young, and usurpers, besides. They had to be careful. These Kingslanders were a nest of serpents, and there was no telling which was a viper and which was a garden snake.

But he couldn’t control the way his shoes echoed off the stone walls, or how he outright glared at any guard to get out of his way. He was still too thin, but there was no mistaking the anger in that tall body. He was taller than most of them, and he could appear as fierce as Robert when his temper finally rose.

Y/N. He had to see her, he had to talk to her. Gods, he should have as soon as he heard those disgusting rumors, but all he could think of was her and Robert, laughing, drinking, his arms around her - no, Stannis wouldn’t go there. Just the faintest imaginings hurt him more than he thought possible. He caught himself before he entered their shared apartment. He didn’t want to frighten Y/N by barging in, and he ought to collect himself. It wasn’t right to act like this in front of her.

Stannis took a deep breath and tried to unclench his jaw, like she always told him, but it was already aching. He rubbed at it absently and stepped inside, trying to steady his pounding heart.

It didn’t work. Y/N was sitting right there, relaxing on cushions at the large bay window. 

He’d noticed she liked sitting there, so he had several cushions brought in to make it more comfortable. Her long linen dress was spread across them, and he could clearly see the outline of her curled up legs. One of the straps of the dress was drooping off her shoulder. When Y/N looked up from her book, she adjusted the strap. She smiled at him, looking better than she had that night. “Are you already finished with the small council?”

Stannis just thought she was tired that evening, or she had drunk too much. Knowing the truth, the guilt hit him at once. Why hadn’t she said anything? What did she think he would do, or wouldn’t do? Did she not trust him?

Before any more intrusive thoughts could surface and hurt him even further, he blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N’s smile froze. “What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Robert. He interfered with you that night. You never told me.”

Stannis hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but as usual, he misspoke. Y/N’s face filled with anxiety, then fear. The book fell from her hands and slid to her lap.

“I-I … I wasn’t trying to hide anything, I just - he was drunk, so I thought it was best to forget…”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to frighten her like this. Stannis hated that expression on Y/N, one he’d never seen before, and one he caused. He crossed the room in a few steps, and his heart broke further when she leaned back.

“I talked to Robert,” He said, trying to explain, but that didn’t help. He may have made things worse. Damn it all, why couldn’t he talk to Y/N properly? Why did his chest have to seize and his senses have to leave? “I told him if he touches you again, I’ll remove his hands.”

“You didn’t!”

Stannis took her wrists and carefully, gently, trying to express something he couldn’t articulate. It was months of confusing thoughts and even more confusing feelings, and he was ruining it. What if she never smiled at him, or touched him again? What if she stayed afraid and wary?

“He’ll never touch you again, I swear it. I should have been there to protect you, and I wasn’t. I … I should have been with you, as a husband. I failed that.”

He moved his hands to her own, and as badly as he wanted to entwine their fingers, he didn’t think he deserved it. He always gave everything he had, he always put duty first, but it was only fitting he’d fail this one. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to handle women, how to talk to them or approach them, although Y/N was something else entirely. He was poor with people, he knew that, but this was his wife, and there was no excuse -

“Oh, Stannis,” Y/N said softly, that voice breaking him from his thoughts entirely. He looked at her painted lips, then her eyes, which had lost that fear. “Is that what you think?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant. “It’s the truth.”

“No, it isn’t. You didn’t fail anything.” Y/N wove their fingers together, squeezing his hands, and he thought his heart jumped into his throat from just that gesture. “You don’t control Robert. No one does. It’s just like him to do something like that, isn’t it?”

“But, I should have protected you -”

“By dueling him in front of everyone? Creating a scene at a feast?” Y/N asked, and before he could give a blunt answer she added, “He’s the king, Stannis, and we both know his… appetites. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been some other girl, and … and it wasn’t so terrible as they all say…”

Stannis grit his teeth, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hands. “He shouldn’t, it’s unbecoming of a king, and besides that, it was still too much. Even a lecherous word is too much. You’re my -”

Mine.

“- my wife, and a lady of the Baratheon house.”

Y/N’s strap had fallen again, and her expressions still troubled, but he would take that over fear. Stannis reached out and fixed it, his fingers brushing across her warm skin. Y/N also reached out, but she pressed her thumb between his furrowed eyebrows. Stannis flinched back.

“Don’t wear that face,” She said softly. “I’ll be alright. I need time, and I’ll forget.”

“I won’t forget.”

“I know.” Y/N’s hand cradled his face, the same thumb stroking his cheek. Stannis releasing a hard breath. Just a simple touch and meeting her gaze was enough to bring the nerves back. He hated it, but he wouldn’t pull away, not even when Y/N kissed him. It was slow, and when she parted she said, “I know you would have protected me.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. Stannis glanced away. He noticed the strap had fallen again. “Y-You should have that fitted,” He said, fixing the offending thing. "It's too loose."

"Is it truly bothering you?”

"Yes."

Y/N giggled a little, and that was enough. He didn’t know how to make her laugh, so he was pleased when he did it by accident. She wiggled her shoulders so both straps slipped off, and with them, a little of her dress slipped down. “This fixes it, I think.”

Like she anticipated, Stannis' ears went red. He probably just realized that from his kneeling position, he was near eye level with her breasts. Pointedly trying to avoid looking was just making him more obvious.

Y/N squeezed his fingers and tugged Stannis forward. After a moment's hesitation, he shifted his position and sat on the cushions beside her. She wouldn't let go of his hand, so he leaned in, resting his head on her bare shoulder. Her skin was warm from sitting beside the window, and there was the distinct perfume she always wore. He could only smell it when he was this close, and it was oddly exciting, like a secret that only he knew. He listened to her faint pulse, how it matched with his breath as he rested on her shoulder. It reminded him of when they were intimate, when their chests were pressed together and their hearts beats were two separate sounds, trying to beat in tandem. She'd hold his hand then, like she did now.

That biting thought he had just minutes ago, that feeling of failure and confusion, was beginning to fade. It was difficult to feel like he'd done wrong when Y/N's fingers were trailing down his back. His tunic kept him from feeling them against his bare skin, but he knew that would change shortly. The anticipation of that spurred him on, pushing aside the last nagging anxieties.

While he kissed her neck, she sighed and curved her body against him, making him realize how cramped the bay window seat was. Y/N pulled on him again, and he followed her instruction. They ended up pressed against each other on the floor, lost in kisses and embraces. Y/N had lifted her leg up and let her dress fall down, and damned if his immediate reaction wasn’t stroking her bare thigh and squeezing it.

Y/N’s lips parted and she whined against him. “Stannis - wait, I meant to … I want to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He stopped his hand from trailing up any further. He felt like he had a fever, but fevers were never this pleasant.

“Did you - did you hear the talk about… Some of them were saying that I’m unhappy with you. That you bore me, or ignore me, or some such like that.”

Stannis frowned. He’d heard such things even before this mess, and didn’t understand why she brought it up. Y/N’s soft hands slid up his now wrinkled tunic and she gave him several light kisses as she continued, “I don’t ever want you to take those words to heart. You make me very happy, more than I ever thought I would be. I swear it, by your gods and mine.”

Her eyes were dazzling then, the sun from the window reflecting from them, and something else making them shine like stars. It was tears, he realized, though they didn’t fall to her cheeks. Stannis would’ve believed her without the swear, he’d believe her if she said even a fraction of those words, if those eyes shone even a little duller. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing their bodies even closer together, and gave him several breathless kisses.

The aching inside him was so strong, it was dizzying. When they parted from a longer kiss, Y/N asked, “Are you well?”

“No,” He said instantly, because he could swear he was having a heart attack. His chest was squeezing together like a giant was stepping on it, but it wasn’t … painful. “No, I am - I am well. And I am happy - with you, Y/N.” His words came out short, his mouth trying to keep up with the thoughts racing across his mind.

That seemed inadequate, but she smiled all the same. For the hundredth time he wondered if Y/N could read his thoughts. She leaned in for a kiss, and yelped in surprise as he swept her into his arms and stood up.

“Stannis! What are you -?”

“I’m not taking you on the bloody floor,” He muttered. The room had plush rugs and wood in lieu of rough stone and rushes, but it was still a floor, as far as he was concerned. “You deserve more than that. ...I want to give you more than that.”

“Oh?” Y/N grinned. She nuzzled his neck and kissed it, which only tightened his grip. “Show me how much you’ll give.”

She anticipated the flinch when she grasped his shoulders, and the quivering when she ran her hands down his bare back. When her arms wrapped across his torso and she pressed her cheek against his back, she could hear his heart thumping, like a dog's happy tail hitting the floor.

Y/N grinned at that, and softly giggled when Stannis tried to worm away. She understood it was nothing against her; he was antsy about too much affection, and she was certain the past hour was far beyond his limit.

One last kiss, then. She pressed her lips against the nap of his neck. "Are you needing something, my husband?"

"Tunic," Stannis mumbled. His pants were already on, but Y/N was shamelessly making the rest of the dressing difficult. His tall legs were swung over the bed, but Y/N was still clinging on, and he could feel every inch of her warm, naked embrace.

"Ah, yes, how forgetful of me." Y/N reached behind her, fetched the tunic from the mangle of sheets, and handed it to him. She promptly went back to her hug from behind.

Stannis grunted. "Y/N."

She was teasing too much, she knew. "Would you like some help? Those fasteners can be so tricky."

She just had to smile at the eye roll he gave her. It was times like this when Stannis acted his age: a young man in his twenties, with the dark circles under his eyes almost unnoticeable, and some flushed color on his skin. She hoped he was eating and sleeping better these days.

Y/N freed her prisoner and quietly watched him dress. Maybe another kind of man would stay in bed with her and laze the day away, but Stannis was not that sort, and she knew that. Personally, she wanted to stay in their apartments and avoid more social obligations. Her mind wandered to the rumors that surrounded them, that ugly reality breaking into this idyllic late afternoon.

At some point, Stannis had finished and was standing beside the bed. Y/N smiled and pulled on his hand, bringing him closer. Stannis only mildly resisted and asked again, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm well," Y/N replied. She entwined her fingers in his and kissed his palm. “Very well.”

Stannis flushed all over again. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed his wife’s brow in return. “Whenever that isn’t the case, I want you to tell me.”

Looking down on her from that angle, with her hair splayed around her shoulders, the light from the window warming her skin and highlighting every curve. His throat felt dry, but he was pleased to hear her say, “I will.”

Stannis only nodded, but lingered like something was anchoring him. It was an uncomfortable ache that hit suddenly, even if he was ready to leave just minutes ago. He made it to the doorway, but glanced back. Y/N stood from the bed and swept one of her thin robes around her body. He could still see the outline of her legs and curves as she tied it tight. She glanced over her shoulder, strands of her hair falling from her shoulder to her back.

“You’re staring.” She teased. “Didn’t you have important work to do?”

There was always work to do, always some sort of duty to attend to. This was a duty in itself, keeping his wife happy and ensuring she was respected. He’d make sure those foul rumors were dispelled, one way or another. Still, it was strange for “duty” to be this … pleasant. This warm and safe. Stannis crossed the room to give her one last goodbye - a squeeze of the hand, and a promise to return - and he left.