#I’m going to pretend I didn’t cry like three times making this

[xilinjiangart]

La Belle Dame sans Merci

This took years off my life.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.

[endataraxia]

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

[verstappen-cult]

Maybe a lestappen fic were Reader friends are the worst and they comfort her, thank you 💗

You were out with your boyfriends when you saw them across the street, walking out of a shop, talking and laughing without a care. You had texted them yesterday to ask if they were free today to hang out, since you haven’t seen them in a few weeks. The answer? I have to work. I’ll be out of town. I’m sick, just numerous excuses.

Max noticed the change in your demeanor in an instant. “What’s wrong, love?” 

“Oh, I just remember that I need to call mom, or she’ll get mad.” You smile, not wanting to worry him. 

“You can call her once we get home.” He kisses your forehead and holds your hand to keep walking. 

Being around them was enough to make you forget about what you saw and you actually ended up enjoying the day off. 

Until Charles decided that it was time to eat and walked into one of your favorite restaurants in town. A very exclusive but cozy one.

The host just gave your boyfriends a look and it was enough for her to rush to get you three a table. 

“Aren’t those your friends?” Charles asks you, looking behind your shoulders. 

You didn’t want to look but you also didn’t want them to know what happened. So, you simply turned around with a forced smile. 

“Oh, yes! What a coincidence.” 

“You can say hello to them,” Max gives you a little pat on your lower back, encouraging you to go to them. “We will wait for you.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before walking towards them. 

You notice the exact moment they see you, because they go from laughing to a complete silence. 

“Hey!” You try not to show how affected you are, how much you want to cry. “I thought you were busy today.” 

One of your friends gives you a once over before leaning closer to one of your other friends and whispering something before laughing.

They don’t even try to pretend. 

“Yeah. This was something last minute.” One girl says, taking a sip of her drink. “We forgot to tell you.” 

“Are you following us?” One of your male friends says, not hiding his smirk at all.

“Oh, no, I’m—” 

“Because that’s sad.” 

One of your friends, one you thought was someone you could trust, bursts out laughing before saying, “Even for you.”

You’re one second away from crying now, so you decide to excuse yourself and walk away, not hungry anymore and just wanting to go home. But Max and Charles are by your side in one second and you’re unable to do so. 

“Max, Charles!” 

Everyone’s expression changes just like it changed when you approached their table. The difference is that this time they’re all smiling, sparkling eyes looking up at them as if you are not even there, standing between them. As if you are invisible.

“Are you waiting for a table?”

“You can sit with us. We can make space for you!” 

It’s laughable, really. 

Charles looks at you, his hand on your waist. “You want to sit here, chéri?”

You avoid looking at your “friends” and Max notices immediately. 

“We just came for take out,” Max explains, a friendly smile on his lips. “she just wanted her favorite dessert and we can’t say no to her.”

Everyone on the table laughs. But it’s forced, anyone would notice. 

“Well, we should plan something, then.” A blonde girl you have never seen before says. She’s twirling her hair and everything, and you would feel disgusted if it weren’t for the situation you’re currently in. 

Max holds your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Silence. 

A beat. 

And then.

“Some friends you are.”

You are out of the restaurant in ten minutes. Charles carries some take out while Max doesn’t let your hand go, at least not until you’re in front of the car. 

“Are you okay?” Max cups your cheeks, and you finally let the tears fall. 

“We noticed things were weird when you stood in front of their table.” Your Monégasque boyfriend says, his free hand rubbing your back. “We just didn’t realize how bad it was until we heard them.”

“How long has this been happening?”

You sniff, feeling the pad of Max’s fingers wiping the tears off your face. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” You laugh, closing your eyes, thinking about how stupid and blind you were. “it has been this way since… forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Charles wraps you in his arms, Max joining the hug without a second thought. 

“You should have told us.” Max whispers in your ear, and you nod because he is right. “We could’ve done something.”

Charles rolls his eyes, giving his boyfriend a little push. “You don't need them, okay?”

“You are an incredible,” Max kisses your cheek, “and amazing person.”

“Most beautiful girl in the world.” Charles kisses your other cheek. 

Your Dutch boyfriend gives you a little peck on the lips before pulling away to look directly into your eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives.”

“Their loss.” You groan against Charles’ shoulder. 

“That’s my girl!” They laugh and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

“Now,” The blonde-haired boy says, opening the car door for you. “Should we go home to eat in bed while we watch some movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?” 

“Charles, she will choose the movie!”

“But she loves Cars too!”

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[ellecdc]

PART 2 PLSSSSSSSSSSS

I need the comfort

ok ok ok ok ok mother's here - I've fixed it for you. Don't say I never did anything for ya 😉

part two of Mistake: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: angst, hurt and COMFORT read part one here

Remus felt like he’d just been slapped. In fact, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a red welt in the shape of your hand across his cheek. 

Lupin?

You haven’t called him that since...well since you started dating. As a matter of fact, he can’t remember the last time you referred to him in any way other than some sickly-sweet pet name that he pretended embarrassed him, but he secretly preened at. 

I’ll see you around.

What the hell did that mean? What just happened?

He felt stuck...perhaps he should go after you? But you told him to go check on Sirius: make sure he’s okay for me, yeah? And he meant what he had said – the three of you would be back to normal in no time. They’d catch up with you tomorrow.

Remus tried to replay every interaction you had tonight. You had asked how their days were...he replied and asked how yours was. Should he have asked you first?

He should have asked you first.

You tried making conversation, but Remus was so hyper focused on Sirius’ mood – afraid that he’d do or say something out of pocket that would hurt your feelings – that each attempt sort of fell flat. Remus had been there before – he’s witnessed Sirius’ tendency to self-sabotage and ruin a good thing once he finally has it, and he didn’t want that to happen again. Not with you.

He knew what Sirius really needed was some quiet; a chance to ponder and lament angrily inside his own head without outside influence.

Maybe they should have cancelled – rescheduled your study date for another time. Clearly his effort to protect you from any negativity was in vain.  

But it was just a bad day, a blip, a one-off. You would all get some good sleep tonight and reconvene tomorrow.

Right?

Maybe he should have followed you.

But by the time he could manage to pry his feet from the floor of the library that he felt cemented to, you were gone. 

He would just have to talk it out with you tomorrow.

Remus entered his dorm to find Peter already asleep on his bed, James finishing the Transfiguration essay that was due tomorrow morning on his own bed, and both Remus and Sirius’ beds empty. 

“Pads around?” Remus asked James quietly as he began to shuck off his uniform. The quiet tone was mostly for courtesy’s sake knowing Peter could sleep through a stampede of hippogriffs.

James peered at Remus from above his glasses before nodding his head towards the bathroom door.

Sure enough, Remus found Sirius leaning against the shower stall with his eyes closed as the water cascaded around his form. 

“You almost done, love?” Remus asked gently. Sirius spooked slightly as he turned to look at Remus; his eyes were red and glossy...he had been crying.

“You didn’t stay with her?”

Remus fought the urge to grimace, to heave, to turn around and run. He opted to gently shake his head. “No, she... said she got most of what she needed to do done.”

Sirius seemed to consider that as he sighed. “Was she terribly upset? I didn’t...I didn’t mean to be an ass. I know James always says I’m quick to take it out on others – I tried really hard not to, honest. I swear it, Rem I-”

Remus began shaking his head as he moved towards Sirius. He could tell by the smell in the bathroom that Sirius had already washed his hair and there were no more suds on his body, so he turned the water off and handed Sirius a towel. 

“You were fine, Sirius. She’s – she’s fine.” He lied.

He lied. He lied to Sirius. About you.

But how could he look Sirius in the eye right now – Sirius who was currently standing naked, soaking wet, nearly hyperventilating, not over his disgusting parents but because he was afraid that he may have upset you – and tell him that between the maybe seven minutes since Sirius had left the library and now, Remus had completely mucked it all up?

The answer was: he couldn’t. He couldn’t look Sirius in the eye and admit that he may have just sabotaged your relationship.

It’s going to be fine. He tried to tell himself. We’ll fix this all tomorrow.

You felt beyond childish, hiding in your dorm room like some toddler throwing a temper tantrum. But you had decided last night that what you really needed was space. Some breathing room. A chance to see this from a different lens. A different perspective.

And you couldn’t do that when your heart was breaking. And being around Remus and Sirius felt like that right now.

It felt heart breaking. 

And perhaps that was your answer right there. If this was causing you heart ache, why were you doing it to yourself? To them? You didn’t deserve that, and neither did they.

But it wasn’t just this you were worried about. It was more than just this relationship – it was the friendship that preceded it. It was the meshing of you into their circle of friends. You were their friend long before you were ever their girlfriend. You wouldn’t just be losing Remus and Sirius: your boyfriend’s; you’d also be losing Remus and Sirius: your friend’s.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you said yes.

Suddenly, you were a little angry: they had asked you to be their girlfriend – not the other way around! Why would they put you through all of this for, what? For...

Was it really for nothing?

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Shelby asked you quietly from the door. You shifted your head on the pillow to make eye contact with her. “No, I’ve got some things to work on. I think I’ll hang out up here today.”

She seemed to consider you, eyes squinting and mouth pursing before she offered a curt nod. “I’ll bring something back for you then.”

You smiled gratefully at her. At least you knew if you did lose Remus and Sirius, you would still have friends who cared about you. 

Sirius spent most of his life believing he’d never be worthy of nice things. He was raised by monsters which meant he was a product of monsters; he was basically a monster.

He knew that the Black Darkness was always simmering just below the surface. It was archetypal of Black’s to explode; to lace their words with venom and strike at their victim, always aiming for the jugular. It had been Sirius’ own M.O. for his whole life. He had nearly lost everyone who ever meant anything to him on account of it. He had almost lost Moony.

Which is why it was so important to him that you never end up the latest victim of his Black Darkness. He was so afraid of disappointing you, letting you down, making you feel unloved. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to live with himself if he slipped – if he said something or did something to make you hate him. 

And it wasn’t just you he was worried about hurting; he knew if he hurt you, Remus would likely never forgive him.

Remus may have forgiven Sirius for his Darkness once; he didn’t want to risk trying for a second time. Sirius felt he’d hit his threshold for forgiveness – one more sin and he’d be on his own, surely.

So, he walked away. He tried to do it nicely – to excuse himself politely, assure you he’d be back in no time. 

But he still left.

It was cowardly. 

He needed to talk to you.

Which is why Sirius could be found that morning sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, knee bouncing frantically under the table and his body turned towards the entrance – waiting for you to make an appearance.

Except, you never came.

“Wait, Shelby just walked in without her. Where is she?” He asked despondently, turning towards Remus. 

Remus watched as Shelby and a few of your other friends sat at their usual places without you. “Come on.” He said quickly as the two of them stood and made their way over.

“Hey Shelby. Do you know where Y/N is?” Remus asked quietly, hoping his guilt didn’t permeate his tone. Unfortunately, under Shelby’s scrutinizing glance, he was sure he had been found out. 

“She’s in the dorm.” She said flatly, looking between the two boys. 

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus before continuing. “Erm, do you...do you know why?” 

Shelby furrowed her brows “all she said was she had ‘some things to work on’ and that she’d be in the room today.”

Remus hissed under his breath and pulled Sirius aside.

“Pads, I’m sorry, but I think-”

“What is going on?” Sirius interrupted.

“Last night, I... I think Y/N was upset?”

“Upset? With me?” Sirius asked, shame worming its way through every cell in his body. 

“I don’t know. I... I don’t think so. But she...she said she’d ‘see me around’ and then called me Lupin.” 

All blood drained from Sirius’ face as he considered Remus’ words.

See him around...see him around!? What the hell did that mean? Did you not plan on seeing them again? Oh gods...you never planned on seeing them again.

“Rem...” Sirius breathed out, leaning against a pillar for support.

“I know, I don’t-”

“Good grief, what’s gotten into you two?” James commented as he walked into the Great Hall with Lily, who opted to carry on in her search for Regulus as James took in the state of his two friends.

“Well? What’s got you in such a twist?” He pressed when neither boy offered an explanation.

“It’s Y/N.” Remus admitted.

“She’s leaving us.” Sirius blurted.

“Okay, we don’t know that.” Remus conceded.

Sirius scoffed. “Well, she basically told you to go fuck yourself last night and now she’s avoiding us; what do you call that?”

“She didn’t tell me to go fuck myself!”

James groaned and rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus and Sirius’ shirts and dragging them over to the Slytherin table.

“That’s it. You guys need to talk to Regulus.” James muttered.

“Regulus?!” Sirius sputtered, looking at James incredulously. “I’m not asking my baby brother for relationship advice.”

“You’re not asking for relationship advice. You’re asking for his perspective on his own relationship.”

“Ew! That’s worse! I don’t want to hear about my baby brother’s relationship with my adoptive brother.” 

“Oh for- you are going to listen to Regulus’ perspective on what it’s like being added to a polyamorous relationship last.” James pressed, tone implying no nonsense. 

Sirius (unwillingly) and Remus (placidly) were dragged to the dark side (read: the Slytherin table) to be read their Miranda Rights have their asses handed to them by one Regulus Arcturus Black. 

“Reg, dear. I’m begging, pleading, on my hands and knees: put the poor sods out of their misery.” James said as he bodily sat Remus and Sirius on the bench across from Regulus.

Lily snickered and poked her nose into Regulus’ cheek, causing the youngest Black to blush, though the rest of his face remained stoic as he sized Sirius and Remus up.

“What have the two of you done now?” He drawled. “I can’t help but notice one third – arguably the better third - of your little trio is missing.”

Sirius scoffed, though he didn’t argue – Regulus wasn’t wrong per se; he loved Moony, but you were indeed the best of the bunch.

James cleared his throat pointedly as he shot Remus and Sirius a look.

“Right, er” Remus started awkwardly. “We seem to have, uhm. I mean to say that-”

“Why does Y/N hate us?” Sirius spat, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards as if those words had fallen from his mouth without his consent.

“Y/N? As in your girlfriend, Y/N?” Regulus asked, moving his eyes between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.

“Yes, as in our girlfriend.” Remus muttered.

“What did you say to offend her?” James asked unhelpfully.

“Do you think if we knew that, we’d be here right now?” Sirius spat back. 

“No, I don’t think that.” Regulus answered for him. “What I think has probably happened is she’s feeling terribly insecure in your relationship and neither of you have done anything to help her.”

Well that shut Sirius up... Sirius noticed that Remus was pretty quiet too.

“Were...” Sirius asked, grimacing when he looked over at Lily and James knowing this was teetering slightly into the realm of things-he-doesn’t-really-want-to-know-about-his-brother’s-relationship-with-his-best-friend territory. But damnit, Sirius was as desperate man. And desperate times called for desperate measures. “Were you terribly insecure when you started dating...these two?” Sirius sneered the end of his sentence earning him a ‘hey!’ from Lily and a solid whack up the back of the head from James.

“Yes.” Regulus answered simply.

“Why?” Remus asked, looking desperately close to pulling out his notebook to take notes. Scratch that, Sirius watched as James swallowed a teasing remark when Remus actually pulled out a notebook to take notes. 

“It’s hard coming after. There’s a part of your brain that convinces you that you are second best; that you’ve somehow come in second place. If that’s not bad enough, then you begin spending time with two people who already have history, already have a connection, and already have a rhythm that doesn’t leave much room to pull you into the mix. And if it does pull you into the mix, you end up feeling terribly guilty for disrupting that rhythm. It’s all quite difficult.”

Sirius’ mouth hung open at Regulus’ demure tone on what sounded like a really heartbreaking situation. 

“Let me ask you this,” Regulus continued, unawares of Sirius’ inner dialogue (which consisted mostly of panicked ‘oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods). “How has your relationship – between the two of you – changed since you added a third?”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance before looking back at Regulus. “Uhm...not, really?”

“Not much at all.” Remus admitted more clearly.

“I see...” Regulus said, narrowing his gaze. “And how much time have each of you spent with her individually without the other present?”

Regulus got his answer in the form of awkward silence. 

“How did either of you expect your relationship to work if neither of you were willing to change the nature of yours in order to help it grow?” Regulus spat. 

“Well...” Remus started, but his sentence died when he realized there was nothing to say. 

“But...you stayed? Why?” Sirius asked his brother.

At this, Regulus’s face fell as he gave Sirius a sad smile. “Because of how we were raised, Sirius. I was so excited to be wanted, even for a moment, that I was willing to beg for scraps of whatever I could sink my claws into. She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

James and Lily looked forlorn as the latter placed her hand on Regulus’ shoulder consolingly. 

“It didn’t hurt to have the walking definition of unconditional love and the smartest, most intuitive witch I know to notice any discontent on my part.” He admitted shyly, earning him a smack of a kiss on the cheek from James.

“Gross. You guys are sickening.” Sirius muttered petulantly.

“So?” Lily interrupted what was close to becoming a squabble between the two Black brothers. “What are you guys going to do?”

Remus sported a determined expression as he looked to Sirius. “We’re going to make it right.”

Shelby stood by her word and brought your breakfast. She also brought you lunch, and then dinner. But by the following morning, she was tired of playing the role of house elf.

“Alright, are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Lupin and Black?” She asked plainly, plopping herself down uninvited onto your bed.

“Wha-? I’m ... I’m not avoiding them.” You lied poorly.

“Please; don’t spit on my muffin and call it frosting, Y/N. You’re obviously avoiding them.”

“I...ew?”

She groaned and fell onto her back in defeat. “Please, for all that is holy, tell me why they’ve been following me around like kicked puppies hoping I’ll take them to their master?”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your book that you held open but had never been reading. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re real upset.” You muttered.

“That’s it.” She spat and plucked your book out of your hands, throwing it over her shoulder unceremoniously. You cringed to think about how Remus would feel seeing a book treated in such a way.

“I was reading that!”

“Don’t lie to me again.” She said, levelling you with a ‘no nonsense’ look. “Spill.”

You sighed deeply, looking toward the window to try and find the words you’d spent the last 24 hours trying to formulate. She never rushed you for your answer, giving you all the time you needed. 

“I feel insignificant.” You admitted finally.

“And?”

You turned to face her, bemusement painting your features. “What do you mean, and?”

“And... have you spoken to them about it?”

You felt a little embarrassed to admit that no, you hadn’t.

“Why not?”

And that simple question seemed to set off all the emotions (mostly frustration) that simmered beneath your surface.

“Because Shelby. Because I don’t want to have to beg for love and affection. I don’t want to have to tell people how to love me; they should just already love me. I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding in someone else’s relationship. I don’t want to have to point out that I’m here and I’m hurting. It’s mortifying. I... I think I’m just done.”

Shelby nodded in understanding before she stood from your bed. “Then you need to finish this today. No more hiding in your room being angry by yourself, and no more letting them sniff around the castle like dejected little runts. Put all three of you out of your misery.” 

It was your turn to nod as you too stood from your bed, ready to face possibly one of the most heartbreaking days of your life.

But Shelby was right; it was time. 

The worst part was that Shelby had been telling the truth; Remus and Sirius did look like kicked puppies. 

The second you had entered the Great Hall you heard a crash of knees against benches and cutlery clashing as Sirius clumsily tried to vacate his seat in record time to make it over to you.

“Y/N!” He called, as if you could have missed the racket he made just prior. 

He looked gaunt – like he hadn’t eaten or slept enough (in the only less than 48 hours) since you’d seen him last. His eyes were red and a little swollen, like he’d been rubbing at them.

You immediately felt sick with guilt; if he really was struggling with things with his family, the last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. But Sirius was looking after himself, and Remus was looking after him too; someone needed to think about you. You had to look after yourself.

Remus didn’t look much better, approaching the two of you much more slowly, hardly making eye contact with you as if you’d lash out at any moment. You had to admit that it annoyed you a little bit.

“Hi Sirius.” You offered, voice grating over the sudden tightness. “Remus.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Remus’ shoulders as he made an effort to make eye contact with you.

“Can we talk?” He asked timidly. 

You knew what was coming, what was happening, what you yourself had come here planning to do.

But it broke your heart nonetheless.

“Sure.” You whispered, and exited the Great Hall without waiting to see if they were following you. 

You walked into an empty classroom and leaned against one of the walls as Remus and Sirius closed the door behind them. They shared another look and stood opposite of you.

More secret conversations. You thought bitterly. And doesn’t this just paint a lovely picture; them versus you. 

“Y/N. We, uhm...we’ve been talking, and we realized that...that maybe we haven’t gone about this the right way.” Sirius started, looking at Remus continuously as he addressed you. 

We’ve made a terrible mistake. 

“We didn’t take into account the ways in which our relationship would have to change in order to make the three of us work” Remus added.

We didn’t realize how much you’d take away from us, you heard

“We feel like we’ve been unfair to you, and... we’re really sorry.” Sirius concluded, looking like his heart had been ripped out of his rib cage. You supposed that would make sense, considering that’s how you currently felt yourself.

It probably hurt all the same to them – they’d be losing the friendships the three of you had created too; the friendship you had with Remus, the friendship you had with Sirius, and the fun the three of you had all together. But you still loved them, and the last thing you wanted to do was to interfere in their relationship.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” You admitted finally. “It was just a mistake.”

Remus’ head cocked to the side like a confused puppy whilst Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “Well...I, I’m not sure-” Remus started but was cut off by Sirius.

“Wait, Y/N, what exactly do you think the mistake was?”

You looked between the two of them as you lifted your shoulder. “I... I guess including me?” You stated as a question.

Sirius actually sputtered as Remus stepped towards you, stopping himself seemingly before he made to grab you.

“No! No, Dove. That’s not a mistake!” He insisted.

“Are you kidding? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us – no, no. This...wow, okay. Can we start from the beginning, please? Why do you think this was a mistake?” Sirius managed to (barely) get out.

You looked to the ceiling, eyes stinging at the reality of having to voice your hurt. “Because” your voice came out embarrassingly high. “Because it-it felt...better when we were friends. I didn’t feel...in the way. And it felt easier. Just - I didn’t mean to come in between you, and I never...” you cut yourself off, quickly moving into hyperventilating territory. 

“But-”

“It’s not a mistake!” Sirius shouted, cutting Remus off. “This wasn’t a mistake! You weren’t a mistake. I... okay. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, that’s true. But I don’t consider that a mistake. Not you, never you.”

“It was a surprise; a happy accident.” Remus added hopefully shy.

You felt drunk...dizzy...beyond confused. Weren’t they breaking up with you? Weren’t you supposed to be breaking up with them!?

“I think it was easier when we were friends because we weren’t putting so much pressure on ourselves to get this right.” Sirius explained.

Remus nodded and continued. “Sirius used to get so jealous if I got to hang out with you without him if he was at practice – took us a while to figure out that it was because he wished he was the one hanging out with you. When we started dating, I guess Sirius and I figured we’d just make sure to always hangout with you together so that neither of us felt left out. But we never even thought about how that must’ve been making you feel, dove. I’m so sorry.” 

“Regulus read us our rights.” Sirius admitted abashedly. “He pointed out that the relationship between the three of us will only work if our relationships with each other are strong. And we didn’t make our individual relationships with you a priority – that was our mistake, Y/N. Not you.” 

“Our mistake was believing you would just ‘catch up’ to where we are – which is years in the making – and also expecting you to somehow do that on your own. It was selfish and thoughtless.” Remus stressed

The things they were saying made sense and spoke to your very soul, but you couldn’t shake off this lingering feeling of dread.

“I... I should have said something... about how I was feeling.”

Sirius sighed, but it was Remus who spoke. “I think all of us could have done a better job communicating, that’s true. But we should have been more considerate. We asked you to join us, dove; we should have made that easy for you to do.”

“To think how much grief we’ve caused ourselves, when we could have just solved this all with a conversation.” Sirius mumbled dejectedly. 

“We’re not too late, are we? To solve this?” Remus asked quietly. Sirius’ eyes looked like they were close to popping out of his skull as he stood and made for you, grabbing your hands pleadingly.

“Oh gods, Y/N. You... you were breaking up with us, weren’t you? You thought we were breaking up with you?” His voice sounded very close to a sob.

“Please...please dove I- I don’t know that we deserve it, but please give us a chance to make this right, to do this properly. Give us a chance to love you the way you deserve.” Remus begged, moving to stand in front of you with Sirius, though he controlled his urge to grab your hands. 

You looked between the two boys; the two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long – the two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and wondered to yourself again:

Have we made a terrible mistake?

Remus’ golden eyes shimmered with compassion and warmth, and Sirius burned fiercely in devotion and promises.  

Had you made a mistake? Falling in love with them?

No.

Perhaps Remus was right. Perhaps this was a happy accident.

“Okay.” You whispered. Remus exhaled the breath he’d been holding while Sirius’ face morphed into a small, hopeful kind of smile – far shyer than you were used to seeing from the boy.

“Okay?” He asked, moving his hands up from your wrists to your shoulders.

“Yeah... I-I don’t want to lose you guys.” You admitted wetly, a tear betraying you as it fell down your cheek. Sirius was quick to catch it with his thumb.

“Never, dove. Not if I can help it.” Remus promised. 

You believed him.  

taglist: @cyripticchronicler @orphicmortala @hcqwxrtss123 @ssc7514 @misacc08 @ashie-babie @milkyasteroids, @maqqiekwon @daisiesformylove @littlenerdybee @allllium

[princessbrunette]

imagine rafe not being able to spend the night and your house bc he has like early business to do and you’re just so whiny begging him not to leave like clinging to his leg and he’s like “jesus christ i’ll be back tmr 😒” but at the same time he’s like 😊 bc it’s nice to feel needed

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

you were clingy and you knew it. instead of pretending like you weren’t, you learnt to fully embrace it. no matter how much rafe tried to act like he didn’t, you knew he loved it deep down. it made him feel wanted, something not many other people in his life offered him.

he pats his keys in his back pocket as he slowly makes his way to your front door, lips parted as he thinks over everything he had on his person when he arrived, making sure to leave none of it behind. it was bad today, you really needed him. after the day you had, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and just… better. you cry, pathetic and hiccupy as you keep a clasp on his hand and he lets you hold it all the way to the door before pulling himself out of your grasp.

“okay, hey— can’t keep cryin’ like this baby you knew i wasn’t stayin’ over tonight because i told you. gave you time to… emotionally prepare n’shit. i got business to do early tomorrow, remember?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to reason with you. his voice is stern but he’s mopping up your tears with his thumb anyway.

“i know but i had a bad day, i just want you to sleep here!” you sob, clutching over his wrists as his hands clean you up and he shakes his head, gently removing them.

“look i’m — i’m sorry, alright? you know i wanna stay here, more than anything. but i’m a man now, yeah? i’m in charge of handlin’ business n’i got people relying on me. sometimes you— you have to make the hard choice, and this is one of those times.” he lectures you, so you do what any reasonable human being would do, and lower yourself to the ground, wrapping yourself around his leg.

“you’re not going.” you swipe your tear on his pants and he sighs in exasperation, trying to wiggle you off to no avail.

“jesus fuckin’ christ, are you kidding? get up, hey—” he tries to walk, but you cling him tighter, coming with him and he stops again. “let go and listen to me. m’gonna count to three, don’t let me get there.” he lifts up a finger and you unlatch yourself, staying on the ground in a ball. rate lowers himself into a squat, expression stern and yet yielding. “alright. you’re gonna calm down, yeah? i will sit with you until you fall asleep, and it better be within the hour or i’m just gonna leave. get up, c’mon. go brush your teeth.” he stands, giving you a little nudge with his foot and you hop up, happy enough with the outcome of him staying a little longer and run upstairs, not waiting for him to follow.

he huffs out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “little shit.” he whispers, following you. once you’re all in bed, ready — he comes and sits beside you, mopping up the last remaining tears that stain your face with the backs of his knuckles. “okay. i’m here. now go to sleep.”

“kiss, rafe.” you pucker your lips and he indulges you, bringing you a nice long one to satisfy you before pulling back.

“close your eyes.” he sighs tiredly and you do so, but not before switching off your lamp. he places a hand on your back over your pyjama shirt, rubbing slow circles as if tries to silently coax you to sleep faster so he can get going, smiling secretly to himself at your shenanigans.

he won’t admit it, but he did feel really sad to go, and even considered staying— but he knew he had to make the responsible choice, so with one final look, he left you in your bedroom fast asleep.

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

I've also seen a lot of people asking for 6/7th year jily so I tried to include some. These fics explore how much they've grown in that period between the end of school and the rising tensions of war.

Of course, I've also included fics with marauders shenanigans. As always, these fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Death and Other Inconveniences by @asteriaem

When James Potter disappeared for ten days in the middle of the spring term of their fifth year, the whole school noticed. He buried his parents in a quiet ceremony and returned to school amid outrageous rumours.

When Lily Evans disappeared for three days before the Christmas holidays in sixth year, two people noticed. She found the house packed, a nasty note from her sister, and spent the rest of the holidays sleeping rough. Both are left grieving and angry at Hogwarts over the summer, with no where else to go and war raging around them. Really, how else could it have gone?

God where do I even start? This fic is incredibly well written; everything from how well-rounded and dynamic all the characters are to the dialogue and descriptions. For everyone tired of character deformation and would like to read a long-form that explores the turbulence of adolescence coupled with grief and the uncertainties of war this fic is for you. When I say I miss old jily, I mean this exact era of characterisation.

Notes by @scriibble-fics

On an ordinary Tuesday in October of 1975, James Potter passes Lily Evans a note. She has no way of knowing it, of course, but it’s the first note of thousands that will pass between them in the years to come.

Head of House by SwissCheesePlant

The consequences of Sirius and James pretending to be boyfriends weren't supposed to come to a head during a convoluted and unnecessarily kinetic drinking game... but such is life.

As If By Magic by @annabtg

Lily Evans, Head Girl, is starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Alongside her, Head Boy James Potter, who has always had a crush on her yet has given up all hope of winning her over. But between working together, sharing fun times with friends and getting through the darker moments that come with living in an era of war, things between them are bound to change...

Questions and Answers by lizardcookie (on ao3)

The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer (seventh Year jily).

Come Together by @thequibblah

It’s difficult to say when James and Lily took the first steps to love. Perhaps they had always been walking this road, unaware of the person they were walking towards until the mist cleared. They would fall in love eventually — but we would be remiss in ignoring the hiccups along the way.

Okay so confession, I haven’t read this but it's been on my TBR for ages and everyone's been recommending me to read it. Judging by other works by the same author that I have read, I can attest that Lily and James have always been well-written so I trust that this fic is no exception.

These next few fics are all by @gigglesandfreckles-hp because Abi's characterisations are perfect and there’s just something about her writing that transports me to the scene. This woman can make me laugh and cry and worry all in under three thousand words.

roots of memory

Lily frowns slightly, mulling it over. “I’m not really sure either,” she admits. “Honestly, don’t take this personally, but I don’t remember much about you in the first couple of years. I think I was too focused on trying to figure out school and magic and everything else.”

James clutches his chest in mock offence. “I’ll act like that didn’t just irreparably damage my soul.”

crafting chemistry

“Is there something that needs to be discussed between the three of us?” Minerva prompts, her eyes narrowing sharply.

Lily’s face betrays her first. A bright flush creeps slowly along her cheeks, blooming from her neck upward, as though her skin can’t hide the emotion simmering underneath. She keeps her eyes stubbornly trained on the far corner of the office, anywhere but James. Minerva notices James’s hand, the one that had been habitually running through his hair, freeze mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly.

but we dream in the light (a continuation of one of my favourite fics)

“Lily Evans, we have got to stop meeting like this,” he grins.

She shakes her head, laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

James spins around dramatically. “Where?”

the dance of mischief and duty

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure.

But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

prompt: flip the script

my church offers no absolutes

She stares at him, her eyes the only ones open as the priest prays, but she can’t look away.

James Potter is here.

under the influence of loss

“Like what? You fancy me! Kiss me.”

Each time she says it, it’s like a new bruise blooms around his heart, her words pressing on all of them at once.

“I can’t!” he shouts, the frustration cracking through.

“Because I’ve been drinking?” she demands, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Your chivalry is duly noted, Potter, but I’m giving you a pass here. Just—”

“It’s not about that,” he interrupts.

You know what they say, you can tell who an author's favourite character is by how much they make them suffer

From the Edge by @maraudersftw

A three-hour-long detention. A barrage of unspilled words. A kiss that has remained unacknowledged. Until now.

That Summer by the_casual_author (on ao3)

In which James and Lily spend the summer in a house by the sea. (and fall in love in the process)

pleasant, poised, polite, professional by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans' journalism career is stagnating, and when Mumblemumps sweeps through the office, she couldn't be less pleased to be asked to cover the sports beat. James Potter, the captain of the Wimborne Wasps who is campaigning to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, only seems to confirm her worst fears about athletes. Until.

If you enjoyed James' characterisation in James Potter Won't Go Quietly then you'll enjoy this

Fantasise also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

When Lily ends up taking Veritaserum as part of one of Sirius' games, James finds that he really doesn't need to know any of the nitty-gritty details. Fate has other plans.

And James Potter also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

The most unfortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask Lily Evans, is being forced to work alongside James Potter. The most fortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask James Potter, is getting opportunities to annoy Lily Evans. The fact of the matter is, that despite their both being talented, intelligent students with bright futures and burning competitive streaks, Lily and James will never get along. No matter how much others think they ought to.

Braid also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

Sick and tired of revision, Lily gladly takes a distraction in the name of giving James Potter a helping hand.

Revenge Tastes Sweeter by @charmsandtealeaves

This by far had to be one of the more stupid things that Lily Evans had ever agreed to, and she’d gone along with a lot of her friends' bullshit ideas. She’d wanted to maintain her dignity in breaking up with her shit of an ex-boyfriend. However, fake dating James Potter hadn’t been in her grand plan of dignity. She’d merely been venting her frustrations to her dorm mates in the common room, she hadn’t expected advice and well… plotting. Though she should have expected better, these lot were always plotting something. Was it too late to just go with Dorcas’ “Stab him!” suggestion?

Simmer Until Ready by @kay-elle-cee

James Potter is not a healer. His is a potioneer—the Order of the Phoenix's lead potioneer, in fact. So when their top field fighter—Lily Evans—comes to him for treatment after a particularly rough mission, he helps the best way he knows how: a vial of freshly-brewed Skele-Gro and a dose of laughter.

Kels always writes the best order!jily

climb higher by penniesinthepool (on ao3)

It's been three (long) years since Lily and James have seen each other. Now, he's living out his dream playing Quidditch with Puddlemere United and she hers as an Auror.

They're happy. But fate (and annoying friends) works in funny ways, sometimes, and through a series of chance meetings, they begin to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be happier. My take on what would maybe happen in a universe where James wasn't Head Boy, taken to the extreme.

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre

a short snippet of James Potter's and Lily Evans' thoughts after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., and before the altercation with Severus Snape changes everything.

It was so close to going a better way

Haley's characterisations are always on point

”Just” Partners by @petalsthefish

James asks Lily what they are after a series of long and hidden snogs in dark corridors.

tied to you by @jjameslily

Lily’s foot sank into the damp earth as she stepped closer to the water’s edge. The lake mirrored the starry sky above, but something else caught her eye – a shape in the reflection.

James my sweet summer child, thank you for looking after her

Love for the Summer by @missgryffin

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

of hearts and keys by the_crownless_queen (on ao3)

In a world where magic means everyone can see your soul, Lily Evans wonders what it would feel like for someone she loves to open her heart.

Seven Years and Seventy More by surlybobbies (on ao3)

When James walked into the 7th year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory a few moonstruck minutes later, he found Sirius lying in bed with his hands folded across his stomach. “Been with Evans, then?” he asked, without lifting his head. There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice.

James froze in the act of unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Er, yeah.”

“She doing well?” Remus asked from his bed, the closest one to the door. He had a book open on his lap but had lifted his gaze when James came in. His stare was steady and pleasant, but there was a sharpness behind it that put James on the defensive.

(James has some news.)

This Town Is Fake But You're The Real Thing by @tedwardremus

Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show's antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.

Prophecy by Alohaemora (on ao3)

Faint rays of sunlight began to filter into the nursery from the pink-red sky outside, the morning song of robins and thrushes lilting as all of Sirius's worst fears manifested before him, devastating in their might.

"Fuck," he whispered. A horrible, painful lump swelled in his throat, clawing, stinging. "Fucking hell."

The corners of Lily's lips trembled. "James didn't know how to tell you."

Not quite a jily fic but I wanted to share

not as smart as you think you are (or how to fall in love in 7 months) by Squidge_06 (on ao3)

Lily Evans has spent the past 6 years excelling at school and hating James Potter. Both these facts converge suddenly at the beginning of her 7th year when she’s confronted with a less than perfect grade and a Transfiguration tutor who is the very last person she wants to see.

That same person might just turn out to be a whole lot more complicated and just a little more wonderful than she could ever have imagined.

Meeting the Potters by FloreatCastellum (on ao3)

It's always a risk, introducing your parents to your girlfriend. Most people don't have to worry about whether or not their mother is going to be in handcuffs, though.

Mistle-Wow by LiveLaughLoveToRead (on ao3)

Lily and James Potters’ love was fiery, filled with passion, tragedy, and love. It was not a fast ignition of a flame that proceeded to burn bright. No, it was a flame that was lit on the Hogwarts Express before anyone had joined the compartment. It burned brighter as their years progressed, and it was lit ablaze in their seventh year. It burned until the day they died.

Or an incident that would have had Madam Pince seething (if they were caught)

Simple Math by yallofthemwitches (on ao3)

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] giving them a 'happy father's day' card — python333

— — — —

synopsis you give the tf141 boys some happy father's day cards!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & younger!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], reader is intended to be around 16/17-20/21 but can be interpreted as older as long as they're below 24 (just so that the headcanons make more sense), maybe ooc?

note i'm so sorry but there's no gaz in this one BUT i can explain why!! i was doing my research (going through three different tumblr posts) to figure out the actual age of each character and gaz is apparently 24?? in new updates or whatever?? anyway, even before i found that out, i could only ever imagine writing him as an older brother, simply because he doesn't feel fatherly to me but still has those protecive-familial vibes so if yall want me to write something on him being ur older brother then feel free to request/reply/comment or whatever and i will! :3 this is all comfort no hurt and pure fluff so enjoy!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ OH GOD.

➥ man i don’t even have daddy issues and i’m crying.

➥ gives you that one dad smile he has—y’all know the one. don’t pretend you don’t—and thanks you for it.

➥ gives you a lil hug too because why not?

➥ tears up just the tiniest bit but it’s pretty unnoticeable but i need you to know that it’s there.

➥ either keeps it propped up on his desk, in one of the drawers of his desk, or puts it in a small frame and puts that on or in his desk.

➥ definitely reads it at least once a week.

➥ he’s so genuinely flattered by it i think that after you leave his office he’d tear up a bit.

➥ you thought he was acting as a father figure to you before?

➥ be prepared for him to take it to a whole nother level.

➥ starts getting you cheesy birthday cards after you start giving him father’s day cards.

➥ is he a father biologically? no. is he one mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? absolutely.

—

You were reasonably pretty nervous.

It wasn’t ever really a secret that you and Price had some sort of father-child-like relationship, what with the amount of hair ruffles, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. that you’d received from him and the swatting at his hand with your own that you had given back. But none of that took away the nervousness you had when you gave Price a father’s day card for the first time.

It’s not that you thought that he would be weirded out by it, you just had a small habit of overthinking things, and this happened to be one of those things. The card didn’t say too much inside of it, a simple ‘happy father’s day!’ and a sentence you wrote that mentioned that you were grateful to know him. That’s it. That’s all it was. And yet, your hand shook as you held it, the other hand knocking on the door of Price’s office.

He nodded in greeting and opened it, and stepped out of the way to let you walk in and sit in front of his desk. He sat at his usual seat after shutting the door, and you set the card in your lap, not wanting him to see it just yet.

“Is there any particular reason why you wanted to come into my office?” Price asked, breaking the silence. You took a deep breath and nodded before you quickly handed over the card, slipping it onto his side of the desk. He took a good look at it for a moment, reading the ‘happy father’s day!’ on the front and looking over the cheesy illustration on the cover. You anxiously waited for him to say something as he simply stared at it, before he picked it up and opened it, reading the short few words that were written on the inside.

You watched as his expression melted into a softer one, and he stared at the card for another moment before wordlessly getting up. Before you could say anything, or question anything, he knelt down to the level of the chair you were sitting in and hugged you. You were frozen with surprise before you hugged him back, loosely wrapping your arms over his shoulders, a little confused by the hug but appreciating the embrace nonetheless. He rubbed your back for a quick moment before standing back up straight and patting your shoulder.

”Thank you,” He said, smiling down at you. “I really appreciated that, kiddo.”

Oh, wow. I don’t know why, but I think I might start crying. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” You’d replied, quickly getting up and giving Price a quick hug before swiftly walking to the door, “I’ll just, uh, I’ll be in my room. Or, actually, no, I’m gonna go—I’m gonna go bother Soap in his office, so if you need me I’ll be in there okaybyeCaptainI’llseeyoulater!” You rushed out, not looking back as you closed the door behind you.

Price had blinked at the door for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and sitting back down in his chair, looking at the card you’d given him one last time before sighing and letting himself tear up a bit. Eventually, after just sitting there and staring at the card, he unlocked one of the few locked drawers at the bottom of his desk and put the card there, for safekeeping.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he’s so excited when he reads that card.

➥ he’s so flattered?? and is so happy?? and oh my god he might pass out?? from all the positive emotions he feels??

➥ be careful with what you say because you might break him beyond repair.

➥ it’s like you’ve given a puppy it’s first treat, honestly.

➥ won’t cry but is very close to!!

➥ will definitely show off the card to everyone.

➥ when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE.

➥ he will talk everyone’s ear off about it, no matter who they are or what they’re doing, hell, the man could be pissing with his dick out at the urinals and everything and he’ll still be ranting to the poor soul in the bathroom about what a sweetheart you are and how you gave him a father’s day card.

➥ he starts calling you ‘lamb’ and ‘duckie’ after the whole ordeal.

➥ no i didn’t ask chatgpt for terms of endearment scottish parents use for their children haha!!

➥ he buys a corkboard just to pin the card to in his office.

➥ like it’s literally just in the middle, nothing else on the corkboard, just that singular father’s day card.

➥ the whole thing is just reserved for father’s day cards tbh. he hopes to fill it up with as many cards as you’ll give him, and if you only give him the one, then damn it, the corkboard’s only gonna have one thing on it and whoever questions it can mind their damn business.

—

You didn’t really know what to expect with Soap when you gave him the card.

You felt pretty confident giving it to him, knowing the guy could probably receive a rock with googly eyes on it from you and still cry tears of joy knowing you gave it to him of all people, so giving this card to him was no big deal, right?

You found him in the recreational center, lounging on the couch, reading a book—shocking, I know—and quietly reading the words out loud to himself. The moment you had entered the center, though, he looked up from his book and nodded in greeting at you with a smile on his face and watched as you walked over to him.

Before he could say anything, you quickly put the card in his lap and watched as he looked up at you, a surprised and amused expression on his face.

“What’s this?” He asked, not looking down at the card just yet.

“Read it,” You’d insisted, gesturing towards the card in his lap. He blinked at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and looking down at the card. He picked it up and read the three short words on the front and looked over the illustration on the cover, and the moment the words registered in his brain, his face broke out into a grin and he looked up at you.

“Aww, this is sae sweet,” Soap gushed, “Thank ye!”

He got up before you could talk and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit, cooing, “Ye're jist the sweetest, ma God, when did ye get the card?”

“I got it a while ago,” You had admitted, “Decided to give it to you now.”

Soap set you down and put both of his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumb, looking down at you with an elated grin, "I'm gonnae hang this up in ma office—I'll get a corkboard an' everything, jist for this."

You looked up at him with a confused, but amused look on your face, asking, “And you’re just gonna hang that card on there?”

He nodded in confirmation and responded, “Aye, it'll be deid center, naething else on there."

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ oh my goodness.

➥ the moment you hand him the card, it’s like he already knows what it is without reading it.

➥ probably thinks it’s a joke at first.

➥ when he realizes that you’re serious he straight up tears up.

➥ like in front of you and everything he’ll tear up.

➥ “... Are you crying?” ghost, tearing up and literally about to start sobbing, "No.”

➥ he treasures that thing and would literally cease to exist if he ever lost it or if it got destroyed.

➥ won’t flaunt it at all, instead he keeps it in the pocket of a jacket he never wears anymore.

➥ if you ever give him more cards, he’ll consider getting a box to keep them in.

➥ he’s always called you ‘kid’ but after this he starts calling you ‘kiddo’.

➥ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

➥ listen kiddo is more affectionate and its softer and its not as playful as kid its more personal and and and [explodes]

➥ the others notice the small change in behavior he has towards you (being more lighthearted with his teasing, generally being less cold with you, etc.) and will tease him endlessly about it.

➥ by others i mean soap and gaz. those two team up and tease him to death.

➥ he could care less though!! he tells himself that they’re idiots anyway and that his behavior hasn’t changed that much.

➥ he’s in denial and i think that him and me are the same fr.

—

You had practically searched every corner, crevice, nook, and cranny of the base searching for Ghost. When you finally found him, he was in the armory and weapons room cleaning the barrel of his rifle, hyperfocused on wiping away the gunk on the gun. You stopped by the door, hesitating in giving him the card. It really shouldn’t be that hard, You thought, What’s the worst that could happen?

You were aware that there were many things that could happen, most of which were bad, but you ignored them for the sake of building up your confidence to give him the card. You stood there for a while, just sort of staring at him, before he—not even looking up from his gun—called out to you with a simple yet firm, “Do you need something?”

You probably could’ve died right there, his firm voice almost completely shattering your confidence for reasons you couldn’t specify, but you instead cleared your throat and walked out of the doorway and completely into the room. You walked over to him and before he could ask any further questions you held the card out to him, your hand having a small tremble to it, an uncomfortably visible display of your nervousness.

He stared at the card for a moment before setting down the cloth he was using to clean his gun and grabbing it, reading the front for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and looking up at you to tease you for it. He was going to tell you what a ‘funny’ joke it was, to tell you to just go do whatever work you’re probably skipping out on when he sees the look on your face that tells him that you’re pretty serious about the card.

He looked back down at the card and read it again, the words ‘happy father’s day’ echoing through his mind as he opened it. He read the few short words on the inside of the card and the shitty drawing of a ghost right next to one that was scribbled out—because of course you had to use pen and weren’t satisfied with the first ghost you drew even though Ghost could make out through the scribbles that they practically looked the same.

You were pretty nervous the longer the silence stretched out, and you were about to take back the card and go jump off a cliff to avoid ever looking at Ghost again when suddenly you hear a sniffle.

“Are you… are you crying?” You’d asked, more confused than nervous now, watching as Ghost shook his head negatively and continued to stare at the inside of the card.

“No,” He answered, sniffling again.

“... You sure?” You’d asked again, far less nervous now, your tone becoming more teasing.

“Positive.” Ghost said firmly, though his voice had wavered a bit. He looked up at you and reached his hand up to give you a pat on the shoulder, muttering, “Thank you for that, kiddo.”

"Yeah, no problem," You had said back, smiling down at Ghost before taking a step back, "I'll leave you to keep cleaning your gun, or whatever."

Ghost had simply nodded and looked back at the table where your card and his gun laid, and you didn't stay long enough to watch him tear up all over again at the sight of the letter.

[folkloresthings]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.

in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.

( charles leclerc x singer!au )

track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.

✩⡱ warnings: cursing

despite being the one to have sent the message, you could only stare at the screen of your phone as it rang, charles’ name lighting up, a picture you’d taken of him filling the screen. just before it could ring off, you pressed the green button and held it to your ear. neither of you spoke for a moment, just soft breathing against the speaker.

“hi,” you whispered, breath held in your chest, wondering if he was really there. you didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him. hell, you didn’t know how you were feeling — only that you were falling madly in love one minute, and heartbroken the next.

“hello, ma cherie,” charles’ unmistakable accent filled your senses, allowing that breath you were holding to be let out. even now, he was using that silly pet name that made you smile. frankly, the love you felt for him hadn’t really gone away, despite what he’d done. you’d only wished it had never happened, and life could go on.

“lewis came to see me. he explained what happened, but i want to hear it from you.” trying your best to keep your voice steady, your knuckles grip at the bedsheets under you. you could hear him sigh on the other side, a long breath.

“i— didn’t mean for any of this to happen. fuck. i was drunk, too drunk to realise what she was trying to do. i probably should have shut her down sooner, but i wasn’t thinking,” he told you quietly. his voice caught, and you knew then he was crying. half of your heart yearned to comfort him, the other to shake him firmly. “i went looking for you after, but lily told me you’d left. so i tried to catch up, but she kept fucking following me. i had to get security to do something about it.”

you swallowed hard, a hundred daggers lining your throat. what were you supposed to say? if you listened to your heart, you would forgive him in an instant. you’d book a flight to wherever he was racing that weekend and let him bundle you up in his arms, take you to bed and make you forget it all. but you’d been throat a lot. you had to be smart, strong — more than just a lovesick girl.

“i’ve been let down so many times, charles. and i was so blind, i didn’t think you would do it too,” you were both crying, his soft sniffles filling your speaker. “i can’t just… pretend this never happened.”

“you shouldn’t have to. but — i can’t lose you, y/n. shit, you’re the first good thing i’ve had in a long time.”

you choked on a sob, praying he hadn’t heard it. he was sweet, so awfully and cruelly sweet, and it wasn’t at all fair. despite his recent mistakes, he scored five stars every time.

“maybe we rushed into this,” you pondered, and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have let you think my heart was ready for all of this. after austin i… i should have waited a little while.”

“y/n…”

“maybe we just need a little time. to figure ourselves out.”

he sighed, knowing he shouldn’t battle you on this. no matter how he wanted to beg you on his knees and make everything better again. “three months.”

“what?” you replied.

“it’s three months until the grand prix final, the last race, and until your finished touring. i’ll leave you alone until then, but i’ll set aside a paddock pass for you there. if you want to trust me then, come. please.” his offer feels terribly gallant, respectful of your feelings, that it brings a smile onto your face.

“alright. three months.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by niallhoran, lewishamilton, and 900,231 others

yourusername if i’m just writing happy songs, will anybody sing along?

view all 438,927 comments

joeyking who’s lady and who’s the tramp

⤷ yourusername i think we both know the answer to that

user tbh i preferred charles with charlotte than her

⤷ user no i’ve been waiting for someone to agree w me

landonorris setting the last picture as your contact pic rn

user team y/n or team charles take ur vote

⤷ user is this all you people have to talk about? shes her own person and was famous for years before she got involved with him

user tours almost over 🥲

⤷ yourusername 3 months 🥲🥲🥲

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, lovebotyn, and 12,332 others

ynnews the singular tour is almost over!!!! it’s been such a good few months, we’ve seen y/n go through so much but we’ve also watched her grow 🥺 so very proud of her. fingers crossed for new music & another tour soon!

view all 5,271 comments

user i wasn’t able to go to any of the shows but i have LOVED watching all of the videos of her performing

user the fact taylor, madison, maisie, gracie and olivia all flew to europe just to perform with her when she was in a bad place 😭

yourusername BABY 🫶🤍 this is so so sweet. but it’s you guys that have made this tour, coming out every night and singing along to every word. i love you all more than anything in this world.

⤷ user MOM I LOVE YOU

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by beyoncé, gigihadid, and 828,991 others

yourusername guys 🥺 we won all four nominated categories i could cry. but seriously, thank you all so much for your continued support and love. there’s so many people i could thank, but i won’t get round to them all. you know who you are. thank you ❤️

view all 682,927 comments

taylorswift there’s no one more deserving 🫶

adele 👑👑👑

user GRAMMY WINNER Y/N

harrystyles congrats love!!

user she made it 🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton my girl !! roscoe says well done 🤍

honeymoon baby girl i’m so proud

user the universe giving her back what she deserves 🙌🙌🙌

IMESSAGE.

tagged: @leclercloml @vroomleclerc @gaviypedrisbride @ncentic @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ferrariloverr @baw-sixteen @rechtrecht @incoherenciass

[literaila]

moving in

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: today’s the day

warnings: literally nothing so short it makes me want to cry

last part | next part

*

year three

“you know that you’re supposed to be helping, right?”

your hands are sore from lugging bags in for the past hour. you feel a bit out of it—with this change, the shift in atmosphere.

and still, satoru doesn’t seem to care. he’s been sitting there for thirty minutes, watching you and the kids lug your things into the house.

(so maybe he’s finally convinced you. and maybe you’re settling into his guest room, ready to be a part of this daily life—this satoru-filled house. maybe it’s moving day, and you’re not even worried about it).

his feet are up on the couch, hands behind his head as he smiles idly. “i’m watching to make sure that you’re all doing it right.”

his voice echoes in the large room. a part of you is angry at him, and another part is amused. how you let him convince you of this, you’re not sure.

you would cross your arms, were it not for the box occupying them. “because there’s an incorrect way to carry in boxes?”

“i think i heard megumi drop at least three.”

“and yet you’re still sitting there. not helping.”

“i told him it was fine,” satoru argues, his grinning voice evident. “you probably didn’t need whatever was in those.”

“get up.”

“i cant,” he groans, tilting his head back.

“you said you would help,” you remind him—because he swore to you when you settled on today for moving things. because you know that satoru is a liar, but it’s not like you’re not going to call him out for it.

his hand waves and you pretend not to pay attention to the veins you can see on his wrist.

“i am helping,” he tells you. “moral support is very important.”

“so is physical help.”

“if you want some help physically,” he smirks, “you only have to ask.”

“im going to move back out.”

he laughs, moving his feet off of the coffee table. “too late,” he tells you.

“c’mon, satoru. we’re almost done.”

“see? you don’t need me.”

“i’m going to take the kids out for sushi without you if you don’t get up.”

“you wouldn’t,” he pours, very seriously.

“try me.”

he groans but doesn’t move.

“get up,” you repeat.

satoru turns his head to the side, and then back to you. he whines. “but i hate moving. it makes me all sweaty, and my hair gets messed up, and i already showered today.”

you roll your eyes. “you smell anyway.”

“why couldn’t we just hire someone to do this?” he asks, for probably the fifth time today.

“um, because we’re not losers,” you retort. “there’s four of us. we’d probably already be done if someone had helped out.”

not that you have a lot to move in. back at school there wasn’t a ton of room for anything, and you’ve kept the habit of an empty living space since.

unlike satoru, who decorates like his life depends on it. who’s house feels more like a museum, cluttered and spacious.

“yeah, megumi,” satoru adds, as the boy lugs in another box, his face covered completely.

megumi lowers the box to his waist, shaking his head at satoru.

unlike satoru, both of the kids have been very helpful. they’re both excited to have you there—according to all three of them. it’s probably the reason you haven’t started looking for another apartment.

megumi frowns at the man, turning to you with deflated hair. his face is a bit flushed from running around. “is he getting old?” he asks you, very seriously.

“what?” satoru gasps.

“is that why he can’t move boxes?” megumi continues, and tsumiki creeps up behind him, looking towards the three of you. “he hasn’t done anything.”

you snort.

tsumiki pouts, looking between the two of you. “will it hurt him?”

“well, kids,” you say, evil grinning towards the senior man. “satoru just needs to take it easy. i mean, look at him. see how his hair is already starting to grey?”

“it’s white,” satoru pouts, gaping at you.

“yeah, i saw him pluck some of it in the mirror the other day,” tsumiki frowns at satoru.

“and those wrinkles,” you nod, sadly. “yeah, we better make sure he doesn’t overdo it. maybe we can take turns chewing his food and feeding it—“

“enough,” satoru says, up in an instant and stealing the box from megumi’s arms. his face is bland, annoyed. “i am the youth here.”

you laugh as he trudges down the hall, double the speed any of you have moved, and storms back outside to get another box.

the three of you watch this for a moment, and then you look to megumi, winking. “thanks.”

he gives you a private smile and then follows satoru to the truck, your hand on his back to lead him.

and then the three of you watch as satoru drops the box he’s trying to juggle, the distinct sound of glass breaking through the air.

“it’s fine!” he calls, and he’s definitely lying.

*

satoru wakes up in the morning all alone.

actually, it’s not like it’s that unusual. except that megumi is usually flicking him awake, or tsumiki is kissing his cheek and asking him how he slept.

he never sets an alarm anymore. why would he?

but this morning, he’s all alone when he wakes up, drool covering his pillow, neck sore from the weird way he slept.

there are no children disturbing his dream, no smell of burnt breakfast coming from the kitchen.

he wakes up alone, and immediately he’s searching for the children with his eyes.

he gets up out of bed, stretching briefly, before he walks to megumi’s room, not bothering to knock as he opens the door.

but there’s no little boy cuddled in the blankets.

so he moves to tsumiki’s room, right next door—sometimes he wakes up and they’re already fighting with each other, probably plotting his demise.

but her room is empty too.

so, in a last-ditch effort, satoru walks to his old guest room—now yours—and again, doesn’t knock as he creaks open the door.

and as soon as his eyes set sight on your bed, he wonders if he’s dreaming again.

there you are, cuddled with megumi and tsumiki on either side of you, chest rising and falling.

and, god. satoru cant believe you’re here. all of you.

he can’t believe he gets to keep this family—this home he’s created—for as long as he can.

*

next part | series masterlist

[itneverendshere]

you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker

i'm a sucker for these three dynamic 😭😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂

you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.

No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.

Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?

You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.

You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.

You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it. 

Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.

The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter. 

"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest. 

You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this. 

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.

He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.

He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?

Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.

"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"

Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."

"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”

He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.

“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.

JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.

“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”

He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.

You always do.

The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.

“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.

You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.

JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”

He arches a brow. “Free beer?”

“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.

 “But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”

JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”

JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.

You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.

Great.

He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.

But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”

He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him. 

You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.

Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.

You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”

Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.

Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”

JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face."

JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”

Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”

JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”

Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.

Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.

“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”

Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”

“How much I love you.”

JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”

Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”

Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"

JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”

“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”

Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.

His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”

JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”

But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”

Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”

JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”

“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.

Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”

You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”

Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”

“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”

JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.

Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”

Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”

You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months. 

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts. 

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.” 

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly. 

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed. 

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so. 

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time. 

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy. 

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something. 

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.” 

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable. 

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.” 

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.” 

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response. 

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back. 

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago. 

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not. 

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio. 

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach. 

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose. 

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.” 

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him. 

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground. 

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.” 

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm. 

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down. 

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”  

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line. 

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.” 

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.” 

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him. 

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?” 

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said. 

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it. 

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him. 

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat. 

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window. 

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.” 

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point? 

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly. 

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that. 

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…” 

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.” 

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else. 

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually. 

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought. 

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[mysunshinetemptress]

part 2 of you promised? some serious grovelling from leah, she gets told off by all of her teammates (arsenal and england), basically more angst but leah is trying to make up for it, up to you whether they end up together or not

Mine

You promised part 2

Leah Williamson x reader

Leah had been lost from the minute you walked out the door. It had been a week since the break down of your relationship and you hadn’t returned home, Leah found herself sleeping on the couch waiting for your return hoping you would walk through the door and you could both sort it all out.

Two days later Leah found herself sitting at the gate in Luton airport with her mum who still wasn’t talking to her hoping you where going to show, only you never did and instead sent Leah’s best friend Alex Scott in your place “what’s going on Lee.” Leah felt her chin wobble as tears pricked her eyes “not that I don’t love you Al but where is she.” Alex looked at Leah confused “all I know is she came to my door yesterday handed me a plane ticket with my name on it and told me you where going to need me so I’ll ask again what’s going on.” Leah sighed looking to her mum who looked at her eyes filled with sorrow “I messed up.” Alex looked at Leah eyebrows knitting together “what do you mean.” Leah shook her head trying to stop herself from crying “I made a promise to go to her final match of the season for our home team in Newport Pagnell and I didn’t go I went to the Arsenal on instead Al, it was their game winning match she captained them to the biggest win in years and I stood on the sidelines of Meadow Park crying over Rafa leaving…I…..” Leah couldn’t help it anymore as she cried feeling all the guilt weighing on her heart again “that’s not even the worst part.” Leah shook her head at her mums words “I…oh…god I was mean.” For the first time in days Amanda grabbed Leah in to a hug. “I’m so sorry mum I’m so sorry.” Alex lay her hand on Leah’s lower back giving it a squeeze trying to comfort her friend as concern etched her features “I know Bubba trust me I do but I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” Leah sniffed turning back to Alex “I was so mean to her, I oh god Al I told her she wasn’t important that her match wasn’t important enough for me to go to that I get bored watching her.” Alex looked at Leah horrified “Le I love you you’re my best friend but what the fuck, you know better then anyone Y/ns fears of never being good enough.” Leah sobbed harder “I don’t know what to do I’m so lost she won’t answer my calls or texts she hasn’t come home I hoped she would come to this and we could talk oh I’m so stupid.”

Holly,Ben and Kiera followed the three women out a few days later and for the first time in their lives Leah and Holly weren’t talking. Two days into the trip with everyone there Amanda handed Holly her phone ushering her out of the room. Holly returned shortly after siting beside Leah before turning to her “ you fucked up big time and I’m still mad at you but for this holiday at least I’ll pretend like it’s the good old days ok.” Leah looked at Holly confused “ok.”

The trip to Ibiza had been the break Leah needed but she found herself longing for you every waking minute, she understood that she had messed up and promised to do whatever it takes to remind you how much she loved you if it took her the rest of her life.

You on the other hand had stayed with your parents for a few days before leaving to Tegan’s ignoring your phones constant buzzing. It was either Leah, her family or her teammates and although you desperately wanted to reply you kept reminding yourself they where her family and friends not yours. Of course none of them understood that which is why they had been blowing up your phone the past few weeks and at this stage Lia had grown even more concerned after going to your house only to find you weren’t there and hadn’t been in weeks that led to the first time Leah had to tell her friends.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE BROKEN UP.” Lia shouted, it was the last team bonding before everyone split for the World Cup, Leah hadn’t expected to be interrogated the minute she arrived “ehm well you see.” Katie turned shaking her head “you have to be taking the piss yeah, I mean seriously Leah what the hell happened that the girl who looks at you like you hung the moon.” Leah couldn’t help the tears falling “I made a promise and I didn’t keep it and when she called me up on it I was mean to her, calling out her insecurities and making her feel small, all because I was annoyed at myself for not going, for not supporting her." The arsenal girls stood frozen listening to their captain "Leah when was this" Leah sniffed trying to clear her head "The 27th our last match Rafas last match, Y/ns most important match oh god guys I really fucked up" Beth shook her head "mate you have to be more specific." Leah sighed before beginning to tell her team mates about the day that plagued her mind every moment.

The Arsenal girls all looked at Leah shocked as Lia stood looking at her best friend in disbelief "I can't believe you." Leah looked at her best friend heart clenching "Lia please i.." Lia shook her head "No Leah I can barley look at you how could you break her heart like that." Leah looked around at the disappointed group of girls before looking at the floor "Leah, that's the only match she has ever asked you to attend." Leah looked at Lia confused "no its not" Lia could feel herself get more annoyed at her friend "yes it is Leah, that girl felt so nauseous at the thought of asking you to a match played in a field she called me crying, and when I made it to your house I found her hovering over the toilet, she thought it was so beneath you for you to attend it took me an hour to convince her." Leah looked at Wally shocked "And when you agreed nothing could wipe the smile off her face she talked about it for days telling everyone." Lia shook her head getting upset on your behalf "I can't I'm sorry I can't even talk to you anymore." Lia sighed walking out the door as Leah looked at the rest of her teammates "I'm Sorry" her teammates just looked at her shocked before Beth spoke "we aren't the ones you need to apologise to Le, that girl is your biggest supporter and the only time she asked for you to be hers you let her down, Arsenals have won trophies and taken part in some amazing matches, seen teammates come and go but clubs like hers where they haven't won in a decade and they have their half time debrief on the side of the pitch, days like the 27th mean everything to them its their Wembley and Emirates and they want the most important people there and you couldn't even do that."

The Arsenal girls had made sure Leah knew where they stood, and although you wouldn't respond to their texts they made sure to let you know that too. The Arsenal girls adored you but the Lionesses where a totally different ball game. You had made the promise to the team that you would fly out to watch them partake in the World Cup the girls clamming you where like a good-luck charm, you tried to dismiss the statement but ultimately it had stuck.

Leah sat beside her mum nervously on the plane waiting to begin their long journey to the other side of the world when she turned at the sound of her mum gasping turning in her seat to get a better look at what her mum had just witnessed only to be met with your eyes staring at her "Y/N" you smiled sheepishly "Hi" Leah went to stand before feeling Amanda grab her arm as you moved to sit the far side. Amanda turned pulling you into a hug "oh my darling I've missed you, I cut believe your coming." You smiled at the older woman "I swore to Jacob that id be there and I also promised the girls id be in the stand for every match so, of course I'm here." Leah couldn't help but feel the guilt bubble in her stomach at your words, you had promised her brother and squad you would spend thousands of pounds to fly across the world to watch them play and visit. Leah could only imagine what would have happened if she had made the squad but you had answered her question, you would have seen the money to come watch her play in the World Cup, like a good supportive girlfriend and she couldn't even get herself to drive up the road to your match.

Australia was a different planet, you still refused to speak to her let alone look at her but Leah was happy that you hadn't let it get in the way of your relationship with her mum and brother both so excited you had made the trip.

Leah felt sick when Sarina asked if you both wanted to come say hi to the girls and for Leah to give them some words of encouragement. You declined the offer and so here was Leah stood on a pitch on the Gold Coast (I know very little about Australia but I think this was close to where they trained) staring at her squad "Alright girls." Alessia and Ella looked around confused "oy Skipper where's the missus." Leah stiffened "eh she won't be here today I'm afraid its just me." Leah couldn't help but notice the way everyones head moved slightly to look at her hands before she looked at them confused clearing her throat "We eh, hum we broke up actually." Lucy turned looking at Kiera who couldn’t stop looking at the floor before looking back at Leah “please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did cause I swear to god Leah I’ll break your legs.” Leah looked at Lucy confused “what are you on about.” Lucy shook her head “did you cheat on Y/n.” All of the squad let out gasps as Leah’s eyes widened in shock “what the fuck Lucy no never, I ehm.” Leah began explaining how she had fucked up your relationship while the squad found themselves getting more upset at their skipper “so she’s not here then.” Alessia let out sadly Leah shook her head “she is flew over with my mum and I, she made a promise to be here for you guys and that’s what she’s done same for Jacob, she’ll be at every game and so will I.” The girls nodded before Mary spoke “you better fix this though Cap, that girl is the best thing to ever happen to you besides football.” Leah shook her head “no she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me full stop Mary, I know that now and trust me I’ll spend the rest of my life telling her that if it means she’ll give me another chance.” Lucy walked over grabbing Leah’s shoulder “you fuck this up again and I’ll kill you you understand.” Leah nodded before thanking the girls and leaving back to the hotel.

The first few matchs Amanda stood in between the pair of you until the first match of the round of 16, Amanda left to go to the toilet when Leah turned to look at you already catching you staring before she spoke “I never thanked you for coming.” You shook your head “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, but I have to say it’s odd not seeing you out there and instead here answering all of our questions like a pundit.” Leah laughed feeling the tension slip away “I’m.” You shook your head as Leah began to speak “I’m not ready for that yet, but I’m tired of is acting like strangers so while we are here for the rest of the tournament can we please go back to being friends.” Leah smiled her heart hammering “I’d love nothing more.” The rest of the game Amanda stood watching you both interact like best friends her heart filling with hope that maybe her family would come back together.

The final had arrived and Leah had been pacing the hotel floor for about an hour nerves and anxiety hammering her system that was until she felt a hand slip into her own finger interlocking and a head resting on her chest as she stood frozen “your alright Le, I’m not going anywhere.” Leah looked down at you before closing her eyes feeling herself relax before she began to imagine you both back in your relationship “ I’m not even playing and my nerves are shot.” You smiled hearing her heart beats fast rhythm “they are still your team injury or otherwise and this is still a very big game for your best friends your nervous for them to achieve their dream to show the world how powerful they are but your anxious about missing out on this opportunity and not living in the moment for them so do me a favour and forget about it and and just focus on us right here right now.” Leah stood frozen looking at you bewildered “how do you always know what’s going on in my head and how to fix it.” You smiled up at her “I’ve known you since before you where Leah Williamson Arsenal Academy player let alone England Captain I’ve loved you just as long it’s my job.” Leah closed her eyes once more relaxing into you getting lost in the imagination of you both reunited as lovers “thank you.” You nodded into her chest squeezing her hand “always Le.”

The girls lost and to say everyone was devastated but you couldn’t help but hold Leah as she cried into chest heartbroken for her team, for England. “I’m a bit biased but maybe they are just waiting on you aye.” Leah chuckled slightly pulling away from you clearing her eyes before shaking her head “I think you might be yeah.” You grabbed her hand intertwining them together “come on let’s go see the girls.”

Leah had hoped after you returned to England you might stay the same friends that is and to her hopes you did acting like the friends she once remembers you being before the late night kisses and lazy days spent cuddling.

Leah’s ACL journey had been progressing well and you had been texting her frequently sending words of encouragement as well as liking and reposting her milestone videos as you returned to training with Tegan and the girls preparing to move up in the league.

It had happened all at once and Leah felt as though she had been hit by a bus at the image of you sat with a girl she had never met arm wrapped around your waist and you leaned into her laughing. You where hers.. shit key word where, you had the freedom to date whoever you wanted but that didn’t stop Leah appearing on your doorstep at three in the morning covered in water from the heavy rain banging on your door. You trudged down the stairs swinging open the door before running your eyes in shock at a shivering Leah “I’m sorry I am so so so sorry Y/n.” Ignoring her babbling you pulled Leah into your house scolding her “are you crazy Le you could catch pneumonia in that weather.” Leah didn’t respond instead she continued to apologise as you looked at her confuse before pulling her into your arms before Leah cracked sobbing apologise into you chest “I’m so sorry Y/n oh my girl I’m so sorry please forgive me I can’t do this anymore my love please.” You looked at her confused before realising her words, sighing you squeezed her arm “come on Le let’s get you dried up and changed yeah.” Leah didn’t say anything just following your every move wrapping her arms around you.

You turned on the shower leaving to get towels before coming back “I’ll be just down stairs ok.” Leah grabbed her arm “please don’t leave please stay.” You nodded pointing to your bed “I’ll be just here ok.”

Leah came out a short time later finding you on the bed scrolling through your phone “I’m sorry .” You shook your head “it’s ok Le like I told you Always yeah.” Leah nodded siting beside you turning to look at you when you bumped her shoulder “I’m ready.” Leah looked at you confused “what.” You sighed “I’m ready now for your explanation for your apology all of it.” Leah sighed nodding “my words will never be enough to tell let alone show you how sorry I am.” You hummed in response “yeah but it’s a start.”

Leah sighed “I’m an idiot a selfish idiot who did something so stupid in front of her girlfriend who simply just wanted her efforts recuperated, who wanted to be shown she was loved and valued as much as she loves and values her partner.” You looked at the floor as Leah talked “y/n I have spent more of my life loving you than I have anything or anyone else, you have loved me just as much, you have celebrated me at my best and looked after me at my worst and supported me through it all.” Leah sighed grabbing you hand “and I’m so incredibly sorry for how I treated you in May. You didn’t deserve any of that, I messed up my priorities but I can promise you now I’ll never do anything like that again just please one more chance.” You sighed squeezing your hand “your right, I have loved you since before you signed the under 8s, I have loved you through it all and i will continue to do so but that girl who shouted at me in her parent’s kitchen who promised me an appearance at my final match day and then never showed is not the girl I fell in love with and I’m sorry Leah but until she returns I’m not giving you my head t just for you to break it again.” Leah sniffed “I can do that I can be the Leah you deserve.” You smiled kissing her cheek “come on let’s get to bed.” That night Leah slept on your chest taking in every breath you took.

Two months down the line and Leah was stood on the side of a field pitch screaming at you to push up and cheering when you did decked out in your New Jersey that she had specifically asked for. Leah had attended every match complete unprovoked and you could be more happier, the after match rituals often being either you or her ending up in one of your apartments watching I’m a celebrity.

But today everything changed Newport Pagnell where playing Notts County. Leah was stood next to her family and your parents cheering for your squad until you went down in the 75yh minute. You had been marked by to players who’s favourite line to use was no mercy and that came to light as one of them stook their foot between your legs knocking you forward as the other kicked right at your head clocking you head on. You dropped like a sack of potatoes as the entire Williamson/y/l/n support squad gasped before falling silent. Leah twitched wanting to run onto the pitch and pull you close but she could to shocked to move as Tegan appeared turning you over before shouting for an Ambulance. Leah didn’t care after that running on to the pitch to your side studding your bloody face. “Oh Y/n shit darling please wake up.” Leah knew how dangerous concussions where but she had never seen a head trauma like this “Tegan, where are the medics.” Tegan looked at Leah confused “it’s a Sunday league our manager is the medic with that stupid bag she needs an ambulance.” Leah nodded grabbing your hand staring at you “please darling I need you to wake up.”

A little while later the ambulance arrived assessing the situation before putting your unconscious body onto a back board and onto the stretcher Leah ran after you only to be stopped by the paramedics “sorry who are you to the patient.” Leah turned looking to your parents “her girlfriend im her girlfriend please.” The paramedics nodded pointing at the seat for Leah to sit in before closing the doors and taking off to the hospital.

You don’t remember closing your eyes or how you ended up in an unfamiliar place but you didn’t care all you wanted was Leah as you looked around the room desperately “hey hunny it’s ok relax your ok.” You looked at your mum shaking your head “Leah where is she I need her mum please.” Your mum nodded “ok ok I’ll call her she just went to get a drink ok hold on.”

Leah ran up the stairs before bursting through your room doors “I’m here I’m here.” Leah looked around the room panicking before spotting you wide awake “oh my love, I oh my god.” You stretched out your hand begging her to take it before pulling her towards your “you gave me such a fright Y/n I thought I’d lost you god please don’t do anything like that again.” You smiled up at the older girl hand playing with the hairs behind her neck “your here.” Leah nodded “I wasn’t leaving you no way not this time.” You smiled eyes beginning to fill with tears “I love you.” Leah nodded “I love you.” You shook your head at her words “no le I love you, I’m in love with you, I want you.” Leah looked at you shocked before feeling her self begin to smile “I’m getting a deja vu moment here.” You laugh “oh shush.” Leah laughed pulling your face closer “mine.” She whispered gently.” You sighed “only if you promise to look after my heart this time.” Leah nearly hit your head with how fast she nodded “I vow to you my one and only I will love you till the earth stops spinning and I will never treat you like that again it’s stupid I had to learn from a mistake in our relationship but I know now at you are my beginning and end my everything not that silly little game.” You laughed “hey I love that silly little game.” Leah smiled “more than me.” You shrugged “depends can you still kiss me as well as you used to.” Leah laughed “kiss me and find out.” Before pulling you into a passionate kiss “I love you till the earth stops spinning yeah.” You smiled “I love you to the stars coming calling Le.”

[lexisecretaccx]

I miss the man you were - M.S

Masterlist!

(Femreader x Matt Sturniolo, angst, sad, arguing and hateful words, toxic relationship, I know Matt wouldn’t be like this irl just a story, emotional. )

Summary: after Matt and y/n’s one year anniversary, his behaviour changes and he becomes ignorant and cold..

The flowers, the jewellery, the little love notes, the cute dates and every single kind gesture.. was for nothing?

I wish I knew what I did wrong, at first he was having a “bad week” then a bad week turned into a bad month, and now it’s a been 5 months and he’s still in a bad mood. It’s not just a bad mood anymore, he’s taking it out on me, the hugs have turned into a pat on the shoulder, the loving kisses into an emotionless peck on the cheek, etc.

“I love you” is three words I’ve heard about 10 times in the past 5 months, from my boyfriend. It used to seem like he meant it but now it feels like he’s doing it just because he has to. I wish he’d talk with me instead of leaving me with sleepless nights wondering what the fuck is going on. Every time I try to talk to him I get fobbed off with an “I’m busy right now”.

That brings us to now.

“Matt please.” I practically beg him for an ounce of attention, attention I should be getting as his girlfriend. “Matthew please baby.” My eyes tear up and I choke on a cry.

“Give me a minute won’t you?” He coldly replies, texting on his phone. “No I won’t give you a fucking minute!” I yell, his eyes snap up to me. My eyes cloudy from tears that are fighting to fall from my eyes.

“What then!” He yells back, “what is so important that I can’t get a fucking minute to reply to a text from my brother?!” He stands up and walks to me. “Hm??” He gets close to me.

“Do you hate me?” I look up at him as the tears spill from my eyes. He scoffs, “what?” crossing his arms, “you fucking heard me Matt.” I wipe my eyes, only spreading the salty tears across my cheek as they continue to fall.

“I don’t hate you, don’t be paranoid.” He huffs and turns around, I grab his arm lightly. “Then why do you make me feel like shit?” I speak quietly. He turns quickly, shaking my hand off of him. He shrugs, “If I make you feel like shit then leave.” He swallows harshly. “I can’t.” I sob. He rolls his eyes, “why?”

Not one part of him wants to comfort me right now, I’m a mess infront of him. “I love you Matt! But right now I wish I fucking didn’t.” I raise my voice. “Then stop loving me y/n!” He hisses, his eyebrows knitting together, “I can’t Matt and I’m sorry if my love is such a burden to you.” I push past him and go to walk to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” He shouts, following me. “To kill myself.” I lie, I just want him to fucking care. “You wouldn’t do that y/n, you care about me too much.” He scoffs, I turn around quickly and walk right up to him, “Not. Every. Thing. Is. About. You.” I grit my teeth, poking him in the chest with every word.

He looks offended, “Y/n.” He sighs, “No! I just can’t deal with this bullshit.” My voice cracks and I turn back to walk to the bathroom, “You know why? You know why you can’t deal with this shit?” He asks me, “Oh fucking enlighten me!” I command, “Because you’re a sensitive, whiny, pathetic little girl.” He spits.

I stop walking for a minute to process the words that just left his fucking mouth, I shake my head and walk up to the bathroom door, slamming and locking it behind me.

He pounds on the door, “open the door.” I ignore him and just sit on the floor my back on the door. “You’re just proving my point.” He gets more aggressive. I stay silent. “Y/n?” His tone softens, “Open the door.. please?” He speaks with a sense of worry.

“Y/n, open the door.” He has a slight growl in his voice. I stay silent again, pretending I can’t hear him, “y/n?” He whispers against the door. I hear him slide down the door and sit in front of it.

If the door wasn’t in the way we’d be back to back. I hear a light cry or something from the other side, “Who’s sensitive now?” I chuckle but deep down I’m breaking inside.

“Fuck you. You were begging me to care and when I did you make a snarky remark? Fuck you.” He yells. “Just fucking leave me alone!” I scream, as tears pour down my cheeks and drip onto my legs. “If you wanted my attention you fucking have it now.” He elbows the door.

“Why are you like this?” I lighten my tone, my voice wobbling. “I’m just me y/n.” He replies, “No you aren’t Matt, I miss you.” I bury my head in my hands, “how can you miss me? I’m right here?” He scoffs, “I miss the man you were.. not you now.” I trembled.

No answer, “what did I do? Please tell me.” I ask him, and I hear a loud sigh from the other side of the door. “Come out, please.” That’s all he says, but I want an answer so if this is how then I’ll do it.

I stand up and open the door, he’s getting up off the floor and he turns around to me, tears stained his cheeks. He.. cried?

My face softens at his sad expression, I tilt my head, expecting him to explain. He swallows gently just staring at me, my puffy face, red eyes and smudges makeup. “Fuck.” He whispers.

Before I can reply he pulls me in for a hug, the force knocking us to the ground but he doesn’t notice, wrapping his arms around me as if he never wanted to let go, burying his head in my shoulder and sighing deeply, after a few seconds I hug him back. I could swear I heard him cry.

As we sit on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor his arms still tightly around me, I stroke his head as his cries get louder. Even after everything that went on just now I still love him, he’s a broken soul.

Something must’ve happened to cause him to withdraw from me, “I fucking hate myself y/n.” His voice muffled because of my shoulder, I sigh, “I wish I could hate you right now baby but I can’t.” My voice is brittle.

“I’ll get help, I’ll go to therapy, I’ll make it all up to you I’m such a horrible person I should’ve never treated you like that.” He pleads, “it’s already happened, let’s just focus on now.” I comfort him, even though it still hurts from his words I can tell he’s hating himself right now.

“Don’t excuse my actions, I’m fucking awful.” He lifts his head from my shoulder and lets go of me, so now we’re sitting inches apart on the cold floor.

“It’ll be okay.”

“Will it?”

A/n: I’m crying bro, I just wanted to make a really sad and angst fanfic and I guess I did that. This is just a one shot so don’t be expecting any more parts sorry y’all😭😭 I listened to a sad playlist while writing this✌️😘 sigh. Also two fics in one day 😚

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi

[scary-grace]

the crying game - a shigaraki x f!reader oneshot

You gave up on love a long time ago, but you keep getting invited to weddings, and after eleven receptions spent at the single's table, you're almost at the end of your rope -- until first-time wedding guest Shigaraki Tomura asks you to show him how it's done. (5.7k words, modern AU, no quirks.)

This fic is for @arslansenkai, who saw my milestone post and requested the prompts ‘holding hands’ + ‘listening to the other’s heartbeat’ + ‘whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin’ from this list. Thank you so much for the prompt! I really enjoyed writing it and I swear all three of your prompts made it in here or there.

You hate weddings. You don’t remember when you started hating them, but you know why you started – right around the time when you realized that you’d never have another one of your own, that you’d always be attending someone else’s, and doing that all by yourself, too. Add in the cost of a new dress and new shoes (God forbid you wear the same thing twice in one year) and travel accommodations and a wedding present, and weddings become a big, expensive, depressing waste of a weekend. No matter how much you like the people who are getting married.

And you do like them, this time, even though they’re the twelfth couple from your department at Ultra, Inc. to get married in the last three years. Ochako and Himiko are the kind of couple who shouldn’t make sense, but somehow do – the kind of against-all-odds couple who’d make you believe in love if you didn’t know better. You were rooting for them, you’re glad they’re together, and getting their save-the-date still made you want to drown yourself in the toilet. You opted to drown in vodka instead. You need help.

You need help, and you’re going to get it. After this wedding. So you can figure out how to say no the next time you get an invite. Because out of all the indignities about going single to a wedding, getting stuck at the same table at the wedding reception as the other people who couldn’t snare a date is possibly the worst.

Most couples have at least a few single friends, but Himiko and Ochako are the last of their respective circles to couple up. Or almost-last. The singles table at their wedding included exactly five people at the start of the reception. You, an older woman named Magne, a guy your age whose place-card says Todoroki Touya but insisted that he goes by Dabi, another guy your age whose place-card says Takami Keigo but insisted you call him Hawks, and one more guy your age whose place-card says Shigaraki Tomura and who barely looked up when you introduced yourself.

It wasn’t the worst singles table you’d ever sat at, at the start. Then Magne bailed to sit with somebody she knew at a different table, and Dabi and Hawks hit it off and then snuck off to God knows where, and then it was just you and Shigaraki sitting at your table in the far back corner of the reception hall. That’s how it’s been for an hour, and the only interaction the two of you have had is when you’ve passed the table’s bottle of champagne back and forth, filling your glasses and then draining them out of sync. It’s depressing. After going to eleven weddings in two years, you can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re pretty sure you’re about to crack.

Your glass is empty, and when you reach for the bottle, you find that it’s empty, too. You want to get more, but you’re not going to look like a lush in front of your weird tablemate. “Hey,” you say, and Shigaraki looks up from the screen of his Switch. “This is empty. I’ll go get more if you want it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shigaraki says. You raise your eyebrows. “This will suck just as bad whether I’m wasted or not.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “But then you’ll be able to pretend it sucks because you’re wasted, not because you’re stuck at the singles table yet again.”

“Yet again? Sounds like you’re projecting,” Shigaraki says. You shrug. It would hurt more if you hadn’t heard the same thing from at least one person at the last three weddings you went to – usually towards the end of the reception, usually when everybody’s getting weepy and ridiculous. You’re ahead of schedule this time. “Sure. I’ll take more.”

Two tables over, a group of happy couples have abandoned their champagne bucket in favor of the dance floor – or the photo booth, or something. You swap your empty bottle for their full one and come back over, hoping Shigaraki will have gone back to his game and forgotten you existed. No such luck. He’s sitting up, watching you, as you sit down, fill your glass, and slide the bottle back across the table to Shigaraki. “Yet again,” he repeats. You down half your glass in a single swallow. “I’m only halfway through the first one of these stupid things I’ve been to and I’m already done. How many times have you put yourself through it?”

“Eleven,” you say. Shigaraki’s red eyes widen. “No, that’s just people from work. If I count friends from school, it’s, uh – sixteen.”

“If you’re this miserable, stop going.”

“Is that what you do?” you challenge. “When your friends invite you to celebrate the happiest day of their lives, you just don’t go?”

“My friends know better than to invite me to shit like this.” Shigaraki copies you and drains half his glass in one go. “I wouldn’t have come to this one, except Toga critical-hit me with this guilt trip about how we’re her family and she needs her family to be here –”

You did notice a conspicuous lack of parents or relatives on Toga’s side of the aisle. “And I said I’d go if I didn’t have to go alone,” Shigaraki continues. “Dabi was supposed to be doing time with me. Figures he’d score a hookup and bolt.”

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” you say. They barely talked when Dabi was sitting here. “How do you know Himiko?”

“Juvie,” Shigaraki says, and you’re not sober enough to keep the surprise from showing all over your face. He snickers. “Not what you expected?”

You shake your head. “Is that where you know Dabi from?”

“And Spinner,” Shigaraki says, pointing out a purple-haired guy at a different table. “And Twice. Magne was a peer counselor or something. If I hadn’t met them I probably would have killed myself in there.”

You can’t stop your surprise from showing this time, either. Shigaraki grimaces. “Don’t read into that.”

“No promises,” you say. Shigaraki snorts and lifts his glass partway, then drains it. “So you’ve known each other for a while.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re friends with the girlfriend. Wife.” Shigaraki refills his glass again, but leaves it alone for the time being. “How long have you known her?”

“Work,” you say, then facepalm. You’re lucky you manage to do it with the hand not holding your glass of champagne. “Two years or so. I already worked there when she was hired. I kind of watched the whole thing with Himiko from the sidelines.”

That’s how you always watch relationships play out at work, or anywhere, really. Pretending to be happy, really being happy, and still feeling like you’re pulling a tarp over the sinkhole in your chest. “So the wife invited you and you showed up even though you knew you’d hate it,” Shigaraki concludes. “You’re crazier than me. I’m never going to another one of these things again.”

“Not even your own?”

“Do I look like the kind of person somebody marries?” Shigaraki finishes his whole glass in a single swallow. You were thinking about trying to keep up with him, but if you try that, you’ll throw up all over the dress you had to buy, which is probably dry-clean only or something worse. “I don’t get why anyone goes to these things.”

“They’re supposed to be fun,” you say. You feel bad picking on Ochako’s wedding. It’s not Ochako’s fault that you’re single, bitter about it, and this close to drunk on alcohol she paid for. “But they’re usually only fun if you go with someone.”

“I went with somebody. He ditched me to hook up with a guy who named himself after a bird.”

You snicker at that. “I meant a date,” you clarify. “If your date ditches you to hook up, then you’ve got bigger problems than whether you’re having fun at a wedding.”

“He’s not my date. I’m not gay.” Shigaraki looks up. “Did you think I was gay?”

“I really didn’t – think,” you admit. You didn’t come to the wedding looking for a hookup. If you had, you’d have tried to put a move on Hawks before Dabi could. “The activities are more fun with a date.”

“Activities?” Shigaraki asks. “Like games?”

“Uh, sometimes,” you say. You know Ochako set up lawn games outside, and the sun won’t set for a while. “Sometimes there’s an art project you’re supposed to do for the couple, as a keepsake or something. I went to one last year where you were supposed to write a good wish, fold it into a paper crane, and then hang it off a branch of this tree they’d bought.”

“Too much work. What else?”

“Dancing,” you say, although you felt like that was pretty obvious. “And Himiko and Ochako have a photo booth.”

Shigaraki’s nose wrinkles. “Why?”

“As a keepsake for the guests, I guess,” you say. “Again. More of a couple thing.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki pours half a glass this time but still finishes it in one swallow. Then he stands up. “Let’s do it.”

You freeze in the act of pouring yourself another glass. “What?”

“I’m never coming to another wedding. You’re bored and drunk –”

“I’m not the one who’s been treating glasses like shots.”

“So let’s do it,” Shigaraki says, like you didn’t say a word. “If this is the last one I go to, I want to get my money’s worth. Do you have something better to do?”

You were this close to taking out your phone and opening up Tinder. You shake your head. “Finish that,” Shigaraki says, and you finish the half-glass you just poured and get to your feet. “Where’s the stupid photo booth?”

You lead the way. Even in heels, you’re faster than Shigaraki – he’s meandering a little bit, possibly due to all the champagne. You reach out and grab his hand to pull him back on course. He jumps, stumbles into an empty table, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted the wedding date experience. Holding hands is included.” At least you think it should be. If you had a real date you’d want to hold hands with them. Shigaraki follows you a little more closely than before as you make your way up to the photo booth. “It looks like they have props. Should we use them?”

Shigaraki hasn’t let go of your hand. He picks up a fake mustache on a stick. “Who would use this?”

“Me, maybe?” If you had a wedding date, you’d want to be spontaneous and fun. You lift it out of his hand and hold it up to your face. “What do you think?”

“No.” Shigaraki takes it away, puts it back, and picks up a flower crown. “Here.”

“No, that’s for you,” you say. Shigaraki argues, but you pluck it out of his hand and settle it on his head anyway. “See? It looks great.”

“If Dabi sees me wearing this stupid thing –”

“He’ll be jealous,” you say. The crown would look stupid on Dabi’s spiky black hair, but the pastel shades of the flowers look nice with Shigaraki’s blue-grey hair. “Okay. Now you can pick one for me. I’ll even do the mustache.”

“No,” Shigaraki says again. He sorts through the props and comes up with a headband with bunny ears. “This one.”

You two are going to look ridiculous. It’s hard not to laugh, and you haven’t even seen the full effect yet. You put on the headband, thankful that you went for a low-effort hairstyle that’s easy to fix, then pull the curtain on the photo booth and wedge yourself into it. Shigaraki follows you in.

It’s a really tight fit. You were pretty sure the photo booth was a couple activity, but now you’re sure – you love your friends, but you wouldn’t want to end up most of the way into any of their laps. You have to stop holding hands to try to get situated, and while you’re still trying to figure yourselves out, the photo booth takes the first picture. Shigaraki grimaces. “Wait. That probably looked stupid. Where –”

The booth takes the second picture while he’s talking, and you snort. There’s about a ten-second interval to get positioned correctly. You manage to face front in time, but your elbow lands on Shigaraki’s thigh as you’re trying to steady yourself, and he flinches away. You drop out of the frame as the booth snaps the third photo, and it occurs to you that the only part of you visible in the picture will be the bunny ears. Based on the location of the ears in relation to Shigaraki’s body, it’s going to look pretty compromising. You hope no one sees that picture. Ever.

Shigaraki’s snickering as you sit up. “Nice one. I want a copy of – hey!”

You’ve elbowed him on purpose this time, just in time for the fourth photo. The fifth photo’s probably going to be blurry. You’re both lightly shoving each other, trying to get each other out of your personal space without pushing either of you out of the photo booth itself. The sixth photo’s probably the only one that’s worth anything, and it won’t be very good, either – Shigaraki’s flower crown is off-kilter, and you’re pretty sure your headband’s falling off. The printer begins to whir, and the two of you sit in silence as the booth prints out two sets of photos. You pick one up. Shigaraki takes the other. A second later, you’re both laughing.

The photos look even worse than you thought, and somehow that makes them better. The photo where it’s just your ears in the frame features Shigaraki staring down into his lap, looking all kinds of startled, while the photo where you’re pushing each other is blurry enough to be a still from a found-footage horror movie. In your opinion, the first photo is the funniest. “We look like that meme with the cat,” you wheeze. “The one with the loading circle over its head.”

“The last one looks like a mug shot,” Shigaraki says, his laughter so raspy that it borders on a witch’s cackle. “After a bar fight –”

The idea of getting in a bar fight in your wedding outfit sets you off. You slump sideways at an angle and end up with your head against his chest for a few seconds, surprised that you can hear his heartbeat and surprised at how fast it’s beating. “Which of us won?”

“We both lost,” Shigaraki says, and you laugh harder. The two of you look disheveled as hell, and not from anything fun. “Number two is the worst one. You look good and I look like a dumbass.”

“You just had your mouth open,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’re probably smearing your makeup, but who gives a shit. You didn’t do that good of a job on it anyway. “Anyway, that’s the wedding photo booth experience. What do you think?”

“I want to go again,” Shigaraki says. This time, you manage to turn to stare at him without throwing any elbows. “For good ones. No way do people’s girlfriends let them leave with just the stupid ones.”

You would, but then again, there’s not a big enough difference between how you look in bad photos and how you look in good ones for it to matter. “We can do one more,” you agree. “Let’s lose the props.”

Without the flower crown and bunny ears, the silliness factor drops significantly. Now you look less like a couple of drunk clowns pretending to be a couple and more like two people who could actually be together. It weirds you out, but you promised the whole wedding date experience. In the seconds before the first flash goes off, you tilt your head onto Shigaraki’s shoulder.

Shigaraki startles, and as soon as the flash goes off, he pushes you away – but only so he can tilt sideways. He’s taller than you, enough so his cheek rests against the top of your head. Four photos left. When you glances over at Shigaraki, you see that his tie’s crooked, so you fix it for him, burning another photo in the bargain. The fourth photo is Shigaraki shifting the neckline of your dress to cover your bra strap, which is weird but plausible for a couple’s photo booth experience. He has a birthmark just below the right corner of his mouth. You aim for it when you kiss his cheek quickly for the fifth photo.

Shigaraki startles again, and you sit back – but not too far. You’re still close enough that Shigaraki only has to lean forward a few inches for his lips to meet yours.

You weren’t planning to kiss him. It’s not much of a kiss, and it doesn’t last long, but your heart is still racing as the booth spits out your second sheet of photos. You’re almost scared to look. Shigaraki’s hesitant, too, and when you both flip the sheets over to check, he says exactly what you’re thinking. “Shit.”

The first set of photos were a joke. The second set – either you and Shigaraki are really good actors or you’re both really drunk, because they look way too plausible for comfort. The ones where you’re fussing over each other’s clothes are probably the worst offenders on that front, but you’re most alarmed by the last two. You’re smiling as you kiss his cheek. You can see the corner of your mouth turned up. And you didn’t see where Shigaraki’s hand was when he kissed you, but the photo’s preserved the evidence. It’s right by the side of your face, curved like he wants to cradle your jaw in his hand.

Exactly sixty seconds ago, the two of you were screwing around in here. Now it feels like there’s static running back and forth between you, and you scramble out of the booth in a hurry, almost tripping over your feet. Shigaraki gets out, too, leaning against the booth to steady himself. Without a word, he takes both of your sets of photos and tucks them into his suit jacket along with his sets, then fills your suddenly-empty hand with his own. “Now what?”

The static shock is between your hands now. “My hand is humming,” you say, like an idiot, and Shigaraki tightens his grip. “Um, I think there are some games outside.”

“Fine.”

It’s warm outside, but getting cooler as the sun begins to set. There are a lot of games, and most of them are being ignored in favor of a bunch of the goofiest guys from your office playing cornhole while their girlfriends/boyfriends watch. You determine instantly that you’re not coordinated enough for anything that involves throwing something, which leaves you exactly one option. “How about that one?”

“Jenga?”

“Jenga XL,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “My hand-eye coordination’s too bad right now for a throwing game. This will be safer.”

Whoever was playing the oversized Jenga last left the blocks in a heap. You and Shigaraki can’t hold hands while you stack them up, and as you do, your assumption that Jenga would be safer than something else gets tested in the most embarrassing way possible – and of course Shigaraki points it out. “You’re short. If this thing falls on you it’ll flatten you.”

“It won’t fall,” you say with more confidence than you feel. “I’m good at this.”

“Go first, then, if you’re so good at it.”

You get a block out without trouble, but you have to rely on Shigaraki to re-stack it for you, which he does, wearing a really frustrating smirk. “You should have worn taller shoes.”

“I can’t walk in taller shoes,” you say. “Or dance. Are you going to want to dance?”

“If it’s part of the wedding date experience, yeah.” Shigaraki carefully extracts his block and sets it on top of the tower. He’s not all that much taller than you. If the game goes on long enough, he’ll have trouble re-stacking. “They don’t exactly teach dance classes in juvie.”

“It’s not that kind of dancing,” you say. Shigaraki looks relieved. “If it’s going to be that kind of dancing, they warn you on the invitation. A friend of mine who got married last year only played swing music at her reception. She sent out a certificate for free lessons with her save-the-date.”

“Control issues?”

“I think she just wanted stuff her way,” you say. You ease another block out of the tower and hand it over to Shigaraki. “Hers was nice. Everything ran on time, and she sent out thank-you notes six weeks after the wedding.”

Shigaraki stacks your block, then pulls out one of his own. You realize with a jolt that he’s missing the index and middle fingers from his left hand. “What’s the worst one you’ve ever been to?”

“Um.” You don’t want to say this. You really don’t – but you drank too much, and you should be honest. “Mine.”

“You’re married?”

“Divorced,” you say. “Three months after the wedding. I didn’t have the ring on long enough to get a tan line.”

Shigaraki doesn’t say anything. The tower is getting unstable, so you’re careful as you wiggle out one of the side blocks on a row about halfway up. You keep an eye on Shigaraki’s shadow as you do it, bracing yourself for him to walk away. Would you walk away if he told you he was divorced? No, but you’re divorced, so it matters less to you. “Three months,” Shigaraki repeats. “How’d that happen?”

“You’re lucky you aren’t asking me that six years ago,” you say. “With how much I drank tonight, I’d have gone off.”

“Go off. I want to hear it.” Shigaraki actually looks interested. “Anyone who fucks this up deserves it.”

He’s gestures at you. You don’t know what to make of that, and you’ve got a block halfway out of the tower. You go back to work on it. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

“I know,” Shigaraki says. “How’d it happen?”

“This is pathetic,” you warn. Shigaraki gestures for you to go on. You sigh. “We were together since high school. Midway through college I got a bad feeling that we were drifting apart and I couldn’t take the suspense, so I tried to end it. And he popped the question. We got married six months later and three months after that he knocked up my cousin.”

“Damn,” Shigaraki remarks.

“They’re still together,” you say. “The kid’s in primary school this year. And every year around the holidays my aunt and my cousin pick a fight with me about how I need to be nicer to him, because we’re all a family now.”

You finally manage to extract the block, and Shigaraki takes it from you before you can offer it to him. You can’t read his expression, and just like when you sensed things with your ex were falling apart, you can’t take the suspense. “Pathetic?” you prompt.

“Your ex is a loser.”

“You haven’t seen what my cousin looks like.”

“He’s still a loser,” Shigaraki says. He pulls out a block. “I get it, though.”

Your stomach clenches. “What do you mean?”

“If my girlfriend was leaving me because I was dicking around, I might do something like that, too.” Shigaraki sets his block on top of the tower. Your options for blocks to pull are getting slimmer by the turn. “Popping the question. Not knocking up your cousin.”

“I have other cousins,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “I thought you said you weren’t getting married.”

“I said nobody was going to marry me,” Shigaraki corrects. What’s the difference? “Your turn.”

You’re out of blocks at shoulder height. And chest height. And waist height. You crouch down instead, doing your best to balance in your heels, and start trying to wiggle a block loose on the fourth level up from the ground. Shigaraki’s voice follows you down. “If you were ready to ditch him, why did you say yes?”

Now you’re at a real risk of crying. Six years of intermittent only-when-you’ve-got-the-money counseling hasn’t made a dent in this one thing. You remind yourself that Shigaraki can’t see your face and work on keeping your voice steady. “I was the one who asked him out in the first place, back in high school. I always had this weird sense that we wouldn’t be together if I hadn’t. So when he proposed I thought it meant he was choosing me, like I chose him. Which was a stupid reason to say yes.”

You wanted to believe. You wanted to believe so badly that you were worth it, and now you’re divorced at twenty-eight, barely talking to the half of your family that took your cousin’s side, going on a grand total of one real date in the entire time since then that you got up and left partway through because you couldn’t fake hope or excitement for one second longer. The kiss you planted on Shigaraki in the photo both was the most action you’ve gotten in two years, and you’ve put more effort into the fake wedding-date experience than you have into even looking for a hookup. You’re pathetic. This is pathetic. You should be embarrassed, and you are.

But you got your stupid block out. You straighten up and hold it out to Shigaraki, who stacks it for you. You can’t read his expression, and you’re a little too dysregulated to be anything but blunt. “That’s my tragic backstory. What’s your damage?”

“What, going to juvie doesn’t count?” Shigaraki crouches down to pull a block from the opposite side of the same row you just weakened. He’s doing it right-handed; he’s waving his left with its missing fingers at you. “This doesn’t count? The fact that I don’t have eyebrows doesn’t count? Your problem is being a dumb kid with a shitty family and a shitty ex. My problem is that I exist. We’re not the same.”

He straightens up and drops his block on top of the tower. You can see that he’s tenser than before, and you can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound patronizing. “I didn’t notice about the eyebrows until you said something.”

“Great.” Shigaraki won’t look at you. “Your turn.”

You crouch down again. The row below the row Shigaraki just knocked down to one block seems like the safest bet. You start pulling at it, frustrated at the way it sticks. “Careful,” Shigaraki says after a second. “If you don’t watch out –”

The tower topples. You’re crouched down, with no chance of getting out of the way in time, and all you can do is sit there, stunned, while three dozen giant Jenga blocks crash down around your head. The corner of one catches your temple, digs in, and you flinch. But the blocks are light. You’re startled, and humiliated, and possibly bleeding a little bit, but you’re fine. “Are you okay?” Shigaraki asks. You give a thumbs-up, and he crouches down next to you. “I don’t believe you. You look – shit, your face is bleeding.”

“I’m good,” you say. “It’s a good thing we took pictures already. This is not part of the wedding-date experience.”

“I’m done with that,” Shigaraki says, and your heart sinks. Even though it shouldn’t. Even though none of this mattered to begin with, even though you know better, you hoped. You weren’t hoping for anything much – just to keep having fun, just to not spend the rest of the wedding alone. “You have a purse, right? Do you have napkins in there or something?”

“Your suit comes with a pocket square.” You pluck it out of his pocket and press it to your temple. “I’ll pay for cleaning it.”

“Don’t bother. It was my dad’s. He doesn’t have much use for it in solitary.”

Shigaraki helps you up while you’re still processing that one and tugs you away from the wreckage of the Jenga tower, onto a bench. The view of the sunset is really good from here. Further down the lawn, you can see Himiko and Ochako and their photographer doing a last round of pictures, and you slide your feet out of your shoes. It’s that point in the wedding. You’ll probably stay here for the rest of the night.

“Do you need ice?” Shigaraki asks. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe the fact that the sinkhole in your chest is eating the tarp you put over it just hurts more. “Do you still want to dance?”

“You said you were done with the wedding date thing.”

“Yeah. I’m done with the part where it’s fake.”

Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought you did. “What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Shigaraki sounds annoyed. “I let you put a flower crown on me.”

“Is that some kind of mating ritual in juvie?” The instant you say it, you feel bad, but Shigaraki laughs. “If you’re trying to say something, say it. I don’t do very well with ambiguity on my best night and I’m still kind of drunk.”

“Same here. Otherwise I’d sit on this, and my friends would spend the rest of their lives listening to me bitch about how I didn’t ask out the girl from Toga’s wedding.” Shigaraki’s hand lifts from his lap, rises to his neck, then falls back. “I want to dance with you. Toga and her wife are having an after-party at their place, and I want you to come to it with me. And I want your number so we can hang out again sometime when we’re not wasted. Because I like you.”

You must have hit your head really hard. “We met three hours ago.”

“So? Toga said she knew she was going to marry the wife the first time they made eye contact,” Shigaraki says. That sounds like something Himiko would say. You’ve met her a few times at work parties and she’s always struck you as a little intense and a little off-the-wall. “Do you want to dance or not? Make up your mind.”

You want to say yes. What comes out is something really stupid, so stupid that you can’t look at him while you say it. “This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.”

“What, meeting somebody who asks you out?”

It sounds stupid when he says it like that. You keep his dad’s pocket square pressed to your temple and try to explain. “The whole thing where you meet somebody when you weren’t expecting to meet anybody and things click, at least on your end, and since you know it’s just on your end you try not to get your hopes up – but the other person tells you that it clicked for them, too –”

“That’s dumb.” Shigaraki doesn’t sound like he’s being mean. You could almost call it affectionate. “Forget who it happens to. I’m asking you out. Do you –”

Screw it. If this is some kind of hallucination, you want to enjoy it. If it’s real, you don’t want to miss out. You turn back to face Shigaraki. “Yes.”

He grins, and you notice a scar over his mouth, too. “Good. Now what?”

You think about kissing him. You decide to try hugging first, which involves getting at least as close to him as you did when you were in the photo booth, on purpose this time. Shigaraki isn’t particularly tall or bulky, but when you hug him, you’re surprised to notice that he’s hiding some muscle underneath his suit jacket. Kind of a lot of muscle. Huh. Shigaraki notices that you’re investigating a little bit. “What?” he asks, his mouth against your ear. “Did you think all I do is game?”

“I don’t know what you do all day,” you say. “We didn’t get to that part yet.”

“We will.” Shigaraki draws back from you, and you loosen your grip even as his hand rises to cradle your jaw. This time you see the kiss coming from a mile away, and this time, you lean in.

Everything’s different this time, except the thing that startles the two of you apart – the bright flash of a camera going off. “Tomura-kun!” Himiko squeals from somewhere nearby. “I told you you’d have fun at my wedding. Who is that? She’s so cute!”

For a second you’re worried Shigaraki doesn’t know your name, but he must have been paying more attention than you thought he was when you introduced yourself, because he introduces you to Toga without missing a beat. “She’s one of my coworkers,” Ochako explains, smiling at you. Even through the smile you can see the incredulity on her face, and you know you’ll be getting a lot of questions about this when she gets back from her honeymoon. “I’m so sorry we had to put you at that table. I wanted to put you with everybody from work, but they all had plus-ones –”

“It’s fine,” you say faintly. Himiko’s photographer takes another picture, this time of all four of you talking. “It worked out.”

“She’s coming to your party,” Shigaraki informs Himiko. “I invited her.”

“Oh, good!” Himiko turns her attention to you. “It’s going to be so fun! We have games and movies and we’re going to stay up all night.”

“You should come inside now,” Ochako says. “There are mosquitos out here, and we’re supposed to have cake soon –”

“And we’re going to do the Time Warp. I put that on the playlist for you special, Tomura-kun,” Himiko says. She glances at you. “It’s the only dance he knows.”

Shigaraki flushes, grimaces, but you tilt your head against his shoulder again, lacing his fingers with yours for the third time tonight. You don’t know what he does all day when he’s not at weddings he doesn’t want to go to. You don’t know if what he said about his dad being in solitary confinement was a joke or not. You don’t know what happened to his hand or where he got his scars, or even where his eyebrows went. But you know he likes you. You know you like him enough to give things a shot, at least for tonight, and that’s better than you’ve felt in a long time.

And you know he can dance, even if it’s only the Time Warp. For right now, you don’t need to know any more than that.