#and a few weeks later i messaged them to say it was still stuck in my head

[sleepnoises]

most beautiful song about hoarding you'll hear today

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

WARNING: Crying, panic attack, comparison, ANGST.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted her stunning dress in front of the mirror. The bright red silk fabric hugged her curves in a way she knew would make heads turn that night. Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, meticulously styled by her curling iron, and her makeup highlighted her features impeccably.

There was a palpable excitement in the air, an expectation of Matt's reaction; she always expected to receive showers of praise from her boy, just as she did for him. The party they were about to go to - a fancy one that celebrated the launch of the new Space Camp line - would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone, and especially him, how hard she worked to be perfect.

The low sound of the bedroom door's handle turning sounded through the silence, Matt's figure appearing through the wooden frame, and all Y/N could feel as she watched him through the mirror's reflection was her racing heart. He looked stunning in his black suit, the crooked tie relaxing the seriousness of his attire.

She waited for the compliment, for the spark in his eyes that would confirm that all the effort had been worth it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." Blue eyes traveled over her body for some seconds, but before she could absorb the joy of that moment, he finished. "Did you know that Amanda has a dress similar to yours?"

Y/N felt her stomach tighten painfully as her heart felt like it was being broken by a hammer three times its size. Amanda. Always Amanda. Matt's ex-girlfriend was a constant shadow between them, a specter that Y/N could never completely dispel.

She forced a smile, swallowing the anguish rising in her throat.

"Oh, really?" Was all she could say, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands shaking slightly at the side of her hips.

Later that day, the party continued with Y/N ​​by Matt's side, but her mind was far away. Every time someone praised her, she remembered Matt's comment. Even surrounded by people and with Matt by her side, she felt incredibly alone.

Her thoughts revolved around a single question: Why couldn't he see her for who she was instead of always comparing her to Amanda?

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A few weeks later, a new day brought a new blow. Matt was in his shared room with Y/N, sitting in his gaming chair with his upper body resting on the wooden surface, his hands on his Macbook, busy answering emails sent to the triplets' mail.

Y/N entered quietly, carrying two glasses full of fresh watermelon juice, knowing that Matt would definitely be thirsty and hungry after hours of sitting there. But as she got closer, she saw his computer screen. The messaging app was open, and the open window wasn't just any texts — it was old conversations between Matt and Amanda.

He read them with a melancholic smile, his eyes shining with a longing that Y/N knew all too well.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper, the broken tone sounding louder than it was expected.

The boy startled, closing the laptop quickly.

"Babe, hey, you scared me!" The boy turned around suddenly, clearing his throat and laughing awkwardly, trying to look casual. "I was just... clearing out some old stuff."

Y/N just nodded, the pain growing inside her chest.

"It's fine. Here, I made this for you." She raised her hand that held the fullest glass, smiling brokenly and keeping her eyes open, taking note on how Matt didn't notice the tears shining in her orbs or pretended not to.

She knew he was lying. She knew he was stuck in the past, that Amanda still dominated his thoughts and his heart. But once again, she chose to ignore it, to stifle her own suffering out of love for him.

Because losing Matt was a fear that outweighed any pain she might feel.

Right?

Right! Until things reached an unbearable point.

Y/N had an appointment at the beauty salon, something she did to feel a little more in control, a little more beautiful in a reality where she always felt insufficient. Matt said he couldn't accompany her, claiming he had videos to film with his brothers. She understood, or at least she tried.

It was Saturday, they didn't film on Saturday.

Sitting in the salon chair, while her nails were being done and her hair was treated, Y/N took out her phone to pass the time, holding the device awkwardly for fear of smudging her sparkling nail polish.

Scrolling through Instagram while her ears caught some conversations around the salon, her heart almost flew out of its place and up her mouth when she saw a photo that one of the celebrity gossip pages had just posted.

Matt was in a coffee shop with Amanda.

His smile was radiant, a kind of joy Y/N hadn't seen on his face in a long time. He looked so… complete, so genuinely happy.

Y/N felt the world come crashing down around her. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, looking around at all the other radiant women before turning her attention back to the news, clutching her cell between her left fingers, a low "sorry" scaping her lips when her right hand trembled against the manicurist ones.

She didn't give a shit that they were talking in a cafe, she didn't mind if they wanted to be friends again - even though she had destroyed Matt, and Y/N was the one to put him together again -, it was something else that bothered her.

Matt had lied to her. He said he was going to film. What the fuck was he doing out with Amanda?

But the truth was right there, raw and painful: Matt would never be fully hers. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed, he would always be stuck in the past in the love he had for Amanda. He would always go back to her.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a smile as the manicurist applied red nail polish to her nails on her left hand. The color perfectly matched the feelings she felt at that moment; dark.

Every move by the salon professionals seemed like a desperate attempt to beautify her for someone who would never see her true beauty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her mind from going back to that image of Matt smiling with Amanda. It was a smile she could never get out of him.

"You look amazing, Y/N!" Cintia, the girl's hairdresser for years now, praised excitedly, straightening the last strands of hair just finished and turning the chair so that Y/N could see herself in the mirror. "Matt will love it."

Y/N looked at her reflection, but all she saw was an improved version of herself that, despite all her effort, would never be enough for Matt. She would always be just a shadow, a pale substitute.

"Thank you..." The girl tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The room around her seemed like a golden prison, full of mirrors that only reflected her internal pain. Every compliment, every word of encouragement, sounded hollow, meaningless, because the person whose opinion mattered most was, at that very moment, laughing and smiling with another woman; the woman he truly loved.

When Y/N finally left the salon, she felt exhausted, as if she had run an emotional marathon. She walked slowly to her home, opting not to call an Uber.

Her hands fished her phone out of her half-open purse, and, with trembling fingers decorated in red, she sent a text to Diana, her best friend.

"Diana, are you home? Can I sleep there tonight?"

As she waited for the answer, her mind wandered through a whirlwind of thoughts. The pain was constant but mixed with a new resolve.

She needed to get out of there. She needed space to breathe, to think.

"Of course, babes!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Getting home was an automatic process. The house she shared with the triplets seemed colder and more hostile than ever.

Y/N walked past the living room where Chris and Nick were sprawled awkwardly on the gray couch playing video games, their excited laughter, and screams a cruel contrast to the pain she felt.

"Y/N!" Nick smiled brightly when he saw his best friend out of the corner of his eye. "Want to play a round with us?"

"No thanks, Nick. I'm tired." She murmured, smiling wide and fake - even though he wasn't looking at her directly -, trying to appear normal.

She walked slowly down the path between the living room and kitchen, each step a reminder of what she was about to do.

Her hands worked automatically on the door, entering her shared room with Matt, closing it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing like a period in her mind. She looked around, taking in the details that made the space a home - the photos on the wall, the personal items, the memories. But now, it all felt empty.

She grabbed a suitcase stored at the back of their shared closet and began filling it with her necessities. The simple act of opening the suitcase caused a wave of despair to hit her.

Every piece of clothing and every object that her hands roughly touched and threw blindly into the suitcase was a small stab in her heart. The tears finally started to stream down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. Reality was imposing itself in a cruel way.

Her movements became slower and slower, while her thoughts became more chaotic.

"I'll never be enough for him."

"I'll never be her."

"He'll never love me the way I love him."

"I'm destroying myself for someone who cares little about me."

"What did I do wrong?"

These thoughts repeated like a cruel mantra in her mind. She felt her breathing quicken. Her lungs seemed unable to take in enough air. The room, which had always been a refuge, now felt like an oppressive cell. Panic began to set in. Her chest felt tight, her hands shook, and the air seemed to escape.

The tears flowed like hot, relentless waterfalls. The suitcase was open in front of her, half full, but it seemed like an insurmountable abyss. Y/N tried to take a deep breath, but each attempt only resulted in more despair.

The sobs came strong and uncontrollable. The girl stopped in front of the bed, standing, after throwing the last piece taken by her hands, bending her upper body over the suitcase, gripping the edge of the thick fabric with such strength that it made her fingers take on a whitish color, fully throwing her weight on her arms as if they were a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What is wrong with me?"

"Why can’t he love me?"

She felt completely alone, drowning in her own pain. The panic attack took over, stealing any trace of control she still had.

The walls of the room seemed to close in on Y/N, the contours of the furniture becoming indistinct and threatening as her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow. Her heart hammered in her chest with an almost painful force, each beat ringing in her ears like deafening thunder. The air felt thick, sticky, and impossible to inhale properly.

"Am I really that hard to be loved?"

"I wish I was her."

"He was never mine, right?"

Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers tingling over her suitcase as a feeling of numbness spread through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead, leaving her feeling sticky and uncomfortable, while the cold began to spread throughout her body, generating incessant chills.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room distorting into restless shadows that danced and pulsed, transforming the room into a place strangely familiar and frighteningly alien at the same time. Each sound seemed amplified and distant, the ones of laughter and the clicks of long and simple kisses played in memories in her head like a record player at its highest volume, creating a surreal echo that only intensified the feeling of isolation and despair.

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room, an expression of the pain and loneliness that she felt suffocating herself relentlessly. Her legs folded in front of her body, the front of her thighs sticking firmly against her stomach as her arms served as a shield for her head, her hands involuntarily going up to her own hair, gripping the strands tightly, trying to ground herself.

Meanwhile, Nick ran towards her and Matt's room with quick, excited steps. He had just finished the last round of his video game with Chris and was looking forward to seeing the outcome of Y/N's salon day, hoping it would make her happier after noticing the inconsistency in her voice when she got home.

His closed fist lightly knocked on the door before opening it, the smile on his face instantly disappearing as his eyes met the scene before him.

Y/N was on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, her hands now grabbing her arms in a desperate hug. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes wide and fixed on a distant, indistinct point. Her breathing was ragged, labored, as if she were trying to pull air through a narrow, clogged straw. The sound of her panting was interspersed with heavy sobs, creating a symphony of anguish that made Nick's heart tighten in his chest.

"Y/N!" Nick called, his voice thick with panic. But to Y/N, his words were like distant whispers, drowned out by the deafening noise of her own frantically beating heart.

Her mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic, disorganized thoughts, each competing for attention and increasing the feeling of panic. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror, unable to escape the downward spiral that consumed her.

The feeling of suffocation was overwhelming, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on her chest, making every desperate attempt to breathe difficult. The seconds seemed to stretch into a torturous eternity, each second carrying a new wave of fear and despair.

Nick ran up to her, the panic on his face intensifying by the second. He knelt beside Y/N, trying to find a way to reach her, to bring her back from that abyss of despair. His hands shook as he gently pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, protective hug.

"I’m here, Y/N, I’m here." He repeated, his voice choked with emotion, praying to whatever was watching them to make her listen to him. But she didn't seem to be able to do it, lost in her own spiral of panic.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stay calm. He knew he needed to be strong for her, and he needed to find a way to calm her.

"Y/N, look at me, please." He pleaded, voice softer, trying to break the invisible barrier that kept her trapped in her own fear. The brunette held her face with his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe slowly."

He began to breathe deeply, exaggerating his movements so she could follow. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his mouth. He felt Y/N tremble in his arms, but he kept pace, trying to convey calmness through each breath.

"That's it, keep going, you can do it." Nick encouraged, feeling a small change in her breathing. Her panting began to synchronize with his, although it was still irregular. He continued to whisper words of comfort, repeating that he was there, that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Y/N's breathing became a little steadier, although she was still shaking. Nick kept the hug tight, feeling her heart beat against his own chest. He knew she was still scared, still trapped in her mind, but she was starting to come back.

"You're safe, Y/N. I'm here." Nick said once again, his voice firm and reassuring. He didn't let go of her face, maintaining eye contact, grounding her to reality. "Let's get through this together, okay?"

Finally, after several minutes that felt like hours, Y/N began to breathe in a more controlled manner. Her sobs subsided, and her eyes, once wide with terror, began to focus on Nick's. Her blurred vision cleared a little, the walls of the room seeming less threatening.

Nick sighed in relief, still holding her tightly, feeling the tension gradually ease in her muscles.

His own heart was still beating fast, but now, for a different reason. He looked around, trying to understand the situation better, when his blue orbs stopped on the open suitcase above the bed. The sight of the packed suitcase made his heart sink. Confusion and fear settled in his chest. What was happening? Why was she packing her things? The thought of Y/N leaving caused him his own panic, an intense worry that he tried to suppress, deciding that the questions could wait.

With a conscious effort, he looked away from the suitcase and focused on the immediate task of taking care of Y/N. He stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact to ensure she didn't feel abandoned for even a moment. The boy grabbed the pink bottle of water from the bedside table on her side of the bed and quickly returned, sitting next to her on the cold floor again. The hard ground beneath him was a sharp contrast to the softness of concern he felt for Y/N.

"Here, drink some water." He asked softly, handing Y/N the bottle.

The fragile girl took the bottle with hands that were still shaking but managed to open the cap and take a few small sips, each one firmer than the last. Nick watched her every move, his mind still spinning around the suitcase. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. He waited patiently, without pressing, standing by her side like a pillar of support.

After long seconds of silence, Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from the bottle to the suitcase on the bed. She knew she needed to explain. Nick deserved to know what was going on, especially after helping her get through that panic attack. She straightened up a little, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Nick..." She began, her voice still trembling. "I... I'm packing because I need to get out of here for a while. I can't stay here any longer, the way things are between me and..." Her voice trailed off into the air before she could mention the name of the boy she loved most in the world.

Nick felt a lump form in his throat, but he remained calm, waiting for her to continue. Y/N took another sip of water before continuing, her words coming out in a halting, painful stream.

"I saw Matt with Amanda today, you know? They were together, and he looked so happy… happier than I've ever seen him with me." Her voice cracked again, but she took a deep breath and continued. "It made me realize that no matter how much I love him, he will never love me the same way. And I can't keep destroying myself like this. So, I'm going to spend the night at Diana's house. I need some time to think, to calm down. Get away from here. Get away from him. And maybe make him miss me... Or finally notice that I'm not what he wants." The last part came out in a broken whisper, her gaze lowering to her crossed legs.

Nick felt a wave of relief upon hearing that she wasn't leaving his life forever, but the worry and sadness over her situation still weighed heavily on him. He wanted to say something, anything to ease her pain, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he just nodded, offering silent support.

"And please, Nick, don't tell Matt anything yet." Y/N asked, her eyes pleading. "I need a little time to understand what I'm going to do. He really hurt me, but I can't act on impulse."

Nick held her hand firmly, offering her an expression of understanding and support.

"Of course, Y/N. I won't tell him. I promise." He murmured sincerely. "You can have all the time you need. And I'm here for you, no matter what. I love my little brother, but I won't defend him when he's in the wrong end. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, Y/N. Someone who loves you completely, without shadows of the past."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sharing that moment of stillness and understanding. The cold of the ground seemed less intense with each other's comforting presence.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, with Nick helping her place her suitcase on the floor. She took one last look at the room she had shared with Matt, pain visible in her eyes but also a growing determination. She knew she needed to step away to heal, to find her own strength again.

"Let's go." Nick's voice woke her from her reverie, his hands picking up her suitcase and walking it to the door. "I'll uber you to Diana's house."

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Matt returned home with a beaming smile on his face, his heart still racing with the joy of the friendly encounter he had had. He had spent the afternoon with Amanda, talking and laughing like old times, and the feeling of familiarity and happiness was undeniable.

The boy climbed the stairs of the house with quick steps, eager to see Y/N and share his good mood with her. He wanted to hold her close on their bed, bury his nose in the curve of her neck, and smell her soft and natural perfume as he told her about his day.

But when he opened the bedroom door, a strange feeling of tension in the air made him stop. The environment felt different, as if something had changed, but he couldn't identify what it was. He entered the space, leaving the door open behind him, turning his body and letting his eyes roam the four walls, trying to find what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance: the bed was made, his clothes were in the same place, the books were on the shelf, and the computer was on the computer desk. But there was an absence he still couldn't understand.

It was when he opened the closet that reality began to form in his mind. Y/N's side was almost empty. Where her dresses, skirts, and t-shirts once hung, now there were just a few lonely hangers. The empty space where her suitcase sat now felt like a black hole, sucking in all the light and joy he had felt moments before.

Matt felt his heart stop for a second, a feeling of panic starting to take over his chest.

"Y/N? Hey, baby? Are you cleaning out the closet by any chance?" Matt's broken voice sounded through the room in an echo, seeming to escape out the door and travel the entire floor of the house, his blue eyes still fixed on the empty hangers as his mind created the expectation of hearing the sweet, melodious voice back.

But nothing came.

Nick appeared silently in the doorway, watching his younger brother with a serious expression. Matt was so absorbed in his desperate search for answers that he didn't notice Nick's presence until he heard his voice.

"She left."

Matt turned abruptly, his wide, confused eyes meeting Nick's. The older triplet's expression was one of deep sadness, mixed with calm determination. Matt felt a wave of despair rise up inside him, like an overwhelming tide ready to swallow him.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Matt asked, his voice trembling accompanied by an expression of terror. "Where- Where did she go?"

Nick sighed, taking a step forward, eyes shining with suppressed anger.

"That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you need to decide what you really want, Matt. She saw you with Amanda today, you know?"

Matt felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. He looked around the room again, this time with a clear understanding of what was missing. Y/N, the constant, loving presence in his life, was gone.

"I don't understand..." Matt muttered almost to himself. "I thought we were fine."

"Only you saw this. Seeing you with Amanda was the last straw for her. She loves you, she really does, but she can't keep living like this, Matt, not when she knows that you still have feelings for your ex." Nick scoffed, a disgusted tone echoing with his words, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in suppressed anger. "And you can't continue like this, dividing your attention between Y/N and Amanda. This is destroying Y/N, and you don't even realize it."

"But I... I was just trying to be friends with Amanda again. I don't have feelings for her anymore." Matt spluttered, confusion and guilt beginning to mix in his chest.

"Then why do you keep seeing her?" Nick countered, with no softness in his words. "Y/N loves you, Matt. She loves you so much that she is destroying herself because you don't treat her like you should. She needs you, and you're here, acting like nothing's wrong. And if you continue like this, you will permanently lose the only girl who has truly stuck by your side through thick and thin."

Matt felt a lump tighten in his throat. He tried to speak, but words failed him. The image of Y/N, the woman he loved, suffering in silence because of her insensitivity, was unbearable.

He felt foolish and insensitive. How had he not realized how much Y/N ​​was suffering? All he wanted was to be able to hug her now, tell her that he loved her, and that she was the only person that mattered. But at that moment, he realized how late those words could be.

"I didn't cheat on her, Nick. I really was with Amanda, but I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong." Matt's voice sounded choked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as anxiety rose through his body like rafters.

"You think you didn't, Matt. But sometimes, it's not about what you do but about how you make the other person feel. And honestly? Giving priority to your ex, the girl who broke you and made you suffer for days on end, over Y/N, who you say you love oh so much, is low blow. Right now, Y/N needs space to breathe to understand her own feelings. And you need to truly analyze what you did and recant with her when she is ready."

Matt walked with shaky steps towards the double bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. The weight of guilt and regret was crushing. All he could think about was how he wanted to turn back in time, do things differently, show Y/N that she was the center of his world. Never have lunch with Amanda.

"I need to talk to her." Matt tightened his fingers around the brown strands of her hair, sniffling. "I need to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her. I really do, Nick."

"I know. But give her a little time, Matt. Forcing a conversation now might make things worse. Let her process everything, and then you can try talking to her." Nick advised, watching him closely before he turned, walking towards the door. "And next time, treat her like the wonderful woman she is, not like a replacement."

Matt nodded slowly, begrudgingly, knowing his brother was right, the despair turning into a silent, constant pain. The room around him, which had once been a haven of love and shared memories, now seemed like an empty, desolate space. The mattress beneath his body, where both of their bodies lay together just the day before, now felt like an icy surface, sending horrible shivers through his body.

His mind betrayed him by making him remember the moments when he had treated Y/N with indifference and neglect, moments that he now saw with painful clarity. Each memory was like a stab to the heart, revealing the depth of his callousness. Y/N's smiles that he had taken for granted, the nights she waited up for him while he lost himself in thoughts of the past, the comparisons...

He could now see the small changes in her expression, the way her eyes sparkled less, how her smile became rarer with each passing day. She was withdrawing, and he was blindly contributing to that withdrawal.

Sitting there, now alone in the room, Matt felt the weight of his own guilt and regret. He realized that he had never made Y/N feel like the most important woman in her life. Instead, he had relegated her to the background, allowing the shadows of his former relationship to contaminate the present. Y/N's love and dedication towards him contrasted painfully with his own indifference.

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[maxlarens]

hi lilli!! i heard angst and i came running, how about searching for each other in crowded rooms, finding each other everywhere with logan or oscar, whoever sparks the most inspo, but plot twist—not being able to be together for some reason (the why is totally up to you, feel free to ignore if this isn't your cup of tea). thank u thank u <3

kait!!! hello!!! thank u for sending this in!!! im gonna do oscar 😁 it genuinely hurt my feelings SO BADLY to not have them make up at the end of this. so i sympathise with everyone that im about to make sad it was a bad time for me too❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

It's familiar, this feeling.

The squeeze of your chest, the grieving, panicking thing climbing up your throat. You've been feeling it a lot lately, every time you catch a glimpse of someone with hair the same colour as Oscar's; wearing clothes you swear that he has; a person with the same shoulders, the same gait.

You've been seeing him everywhere. You just think you have. Monaco is small… not that small apparently.

When it had first happened, at the beginning of summer break, you’d half expected to be back together within a week. For Oscar to message you and half-beg to talk to you again. In your dreams, you’d both come grovelling back to each other, apologising for cruel words, making amends for various mistakes. Then you would kiss him and you’d tell him how much you love him and things would get better.

Instead, you’ve spent weeks of your summer break totally and utterly miserable. Missing Oscar like a phantom limb. You reach for him, he’s not there. You go to text him, find a thread of messages discussing the logistics of returning the other’s belongings.

You sit in your flat and you watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy twice in a row twenty two hours and forty-four minutes because it doesn’t remind you of Oscar and it occupies your time in a way nothing else can right now. You cry until your eyes are puffy and you write in a diary you’ve never touched before, because it needs to go somewhere. The feeling stuck in your throat needs to be written down said out loud and you can’t say it to Oscar, who you would usually tell everything, because he needs “distance from you right now”.

Briefly, you convince yourself that “right now”, indicates that there still might be a later for the two of you. That this thing between you that’s fallen to pieces might one day be salvaged. In the quiet moments of Lord of the Rings you spiral down a rabbit hole of ways to get Oscar back, pathetic fantasies of how you might convince him to talk to you again. Then Arwen says, “I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone” and you cry for two hours straight.

You sob, your face in your pillow and you think that was supposed to me! That was supposed to be us! And maybe it wasn’t, maybe you’re not an elven maiden giving up her immortality for a mere man, but you love Oscar. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Oscar. And now… now…

Well—

It is the waiting that’s the worst.

No texts, no calls. Lando sends you a few, but you can’t bear to hold a conversation with him, knowing he’s playing both sides. And anyway, you’re just thinking about Oscar. Is he there? Is he reading your texts? Seeing the pathetic selfies of you on your couch in days-old PJs? Is he staring at your stagnant text thread just like you are? Has he blocked you?

Your every waking thought is consumed by him. You drag yourself out of the apartment for coffee down the street and you wonder what he’s doing. Has he been rotting at home like you? More than likely he’s been doing things. Playing padel with Lando, going out for lunch, training at the gym, FaceTiming his family.

You feel sick to you stomach. You can list on one hand the activities that you’ve done since Oscar broke up with you at the beginning of the month:

Sleeping, crying, watching Lord of the Rings, ordering takeout, training because you have to. Going for coffee had been a big step out of your current comfort zone. You’re wearing pants that aren’t sweatpants… you’d even showered properly for fuckssake.

You got your most noise-cancelling headphones on, blasting sad Taylor Swift (who you don’t even like. It’s just something to fill the void) and staring down the barista so you can lip-read if they’re saying your name or the words Large Oat Latte. And then—

Then. The barista is mouthing Oscar and your stomach lurches as the exact object of your ire temporary depression walks to the counter. You try to convince yourself it’s not him, you keep seeing him places but it’s never really him. But it is, that’s his burgundy shirt, his swoop of hair, his knobbly little ankles.

You release a ragged breath that you hope isn’t too loud. You duck your head, try to avoid his gaze as he turns, pretending that you haven’t seen him. Try to look occupied by your phone though you’ve only had time to open to your home screen. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, you blink furiously, trying your best not to fall apart in this coffee shop.

At least he’s not with someone else, you think as a tightness crawls up your throat to settle at the base of your tongue. But he looks happy, he looks fine, he looks better than you feel right now. God, what if he’s better off without you? What does it mean that you don’t seem to better off without him?

There’s something wet sliding down your left cheek and then you see Nike trainers entering your vision, still directed firmly downward. Someone puts a hand on your shoulder— you don’t jump but it’s a near thing. You reach up to slip your headphones off, wiping the tear discreetly as you go. Then you look up and it’s him, it’s Oscar.

He’s holding out a paper cup labeled, Oat Latte and smiling at you tightly.

“They were calling your name,” he says by way of explanation.

“Right,” your voice is shaky, weak, “Thanks.”

He nods, you take the coffee, careful not to touch his hand. You’re trying to swallow down the lump in your throat that’s rising rising trying to claw its way out of your mouth. You blink away the tears filling the corners of your eyes. You can’t look at him.

You’re looking up at the ceiling instead, biting the inside of your mouth. Breathing in and out, in and out.

He says your name, and then, “Do you want to talk?”

You feel like a tonne of bricks has just hit your chest. Knocking the wind out of you. Tears, hot and wet, are slipping down your cheeks. You can’t speak, you turn around and leave the coffee shop without saying anything because surely you’ll just start crying if you open your mouth. Oscar finds you again across the road, in a dark cobbled alleyway. The heel of your hand is pressed to the middle of your chest, you’re hiccuping, trying to stifle heavy sobs that you’d much prefer to let out in the privacy of your own apartment.

“Hey,” he says, gathering you into his arms before you can push him away, “It’s okay.”

You whine, collapsing into his chest, face pressing into his shoulder, “No, it’s not.”

You cry loudly, trying fruitlessly to keep the sobs in. Oscar’s hand rubs comforting circles into your back, which makes it better until you realise it’s Oscar, which makes it immediately worse. You stay there a while. Until your eyes are puffy and your throat sore.

“Better?”, Oscar asks, the crease between his eyebrows prominent.

You sigh tiredly, shrug, “Sure.”

Your coffee is cold now, your chest feels void, hollow.

You shake your head before Oscar can say anything further, before you’re set off on another fucking pathetic crying fit in the arms of your ex-boyfriend, “I can’t talk, Oscar. I really can’t.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding and swallowing some lump in his own throat.

You bite down hard on your tongue. Turn to leave the dark alley to go home, your back prickling with Oscar’s wet brown-eyed stare on you. He lets you leave. You spend the ten minute walk wiping tears before they fall and itching to run back, to kiss him, to pour all the emotion in your chest into some physical action.

There’s an awful grieving ache in your chest that’s carving out your insides and when you check your phone after walking in the door there’s a text from Oscar that reads:

I miss you. I’d really like to talk to you soon.

not sure if it was weird but the lord of the rings Mentions were kinda about how you’re in such a fragile state during a breakup that something as irrelevant to your break up at lord of the rings will make you cry for hours for no real reason. (and not to expose myself but after a break up i did watch the lotr trilogy two times in a row. told my friends and got a text from one of them asking if i was depressed 😭 like yes… temporarily alright)

send me a prompt/req + driver and i'll write something. pls check if my requests are open first 💖

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[sapphire-writes]

Season’s Greetings

summary: You call Aemond to cheer him up during finals.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

can also be read as an Our Last Summer universe oneshot

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, dirty talk, phone sex shenanagins, sort of exhibitionism, masturbation, mutual masturbation, language

word count: 1.7k

note: oh CUM all ye faithful for I have written another smutty little fic! appreciate all of you who stuck around despite my writer's block! happy holidays and a slutty new year!!!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

divider credit @/strangergraphics

Citedal University is uncharacteristically quiet this late at night as half the campus has returned home for the holiday break. The last few students who were unlucky enough to have a final scheduled at the end of the week remain hunched over their textbooks; scattered throughout the library and other rooms throughout campus.

Aemond Targaryen currently sits in a secluded corner of the library, a steaming cup of tea next to the stack of textbooks he’s been pondering for the past few hours. He’s one of the only students left at this hour, if not the only student—tucked away in the back corner of the second floor where he's unlikely to be bothered. 

He removes the blue light glasses that rest on his nose, rubbing his temples trying to relieve the dull throbbing that had begun behind his eyes. The sound of soft jazz reverberates through his airpods as he closes his eyes. He needs to stop soon or the pain will get worse. But Aemond has never been one to back down from anything just because of a little pain. 

He’d kept his phone on do not disturb for the majority of his study session, but took the chance now to glance at any missed text messages. Though it’s been months of dating, he still feels a warmth spread through his chest seeing who has texted him.

There’s no message in response. Aemond watches as three dots pop up then disappear. Pursing his lips he waits. A moment later a picture appears instead. 

It's his girlfriend.

Not just his girlfriend. His girlfriend in his bedroom in King’s Landing. In bed.

In his bed. 

Aemond sits up straighter, a shiver rolling down his spine right to the base of his cock. It’s been almost two months since he’s seen her, not since the end of October had they been able to connect in person. A mix of classes, internships, and other obligations had simply gotten in the way. The anticipation of an uninterrupted Christmas holiday had been all Aemond could focus on.

Aemond pauses his music, calling her. She answers after the first ring as though she’d been waiting in anticipation for his call.

“Hello?”

“Baby.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

Aemond’s mouth goes dry at the flirtatious tone, the soft feigned confusion at his call.

“I am, yeah,” he agrees, sitting back in his chair, the wood groaning as he does so, “Till someone distracted me.”

“Oh no,” she says, and Aemond closes his eyes, picturing the perfect pout that’s undoubtedly on her face, “How very rude. Distracting Aemond Targaryen from his studies.”

“A paper, actually,” he playfully corrects, “On the relationship between faith and reason during the wars of conquest.”

She moans at that, long and exaggerated. 

“Gods I love it when you talk nerdy,” she teases, voice rough, “It’s very sexy.”

Aemond bites his lip, shaking his head slightly and glancing around him. The library is silent apart from when he speaks, he hasn’t seen another student in a few hours. 

“Are you alone?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” she confirms, “Everyone’s gone to bed. It’s very late, after all.”

“I’m surprised you’re still up.”

“I was missing you.”

“I miss you too baby,” he says, closing his laptop and removing his blue light glasses, resting them on top, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” She says, “It’s been so long. Too long really.”

“I agree.”

“It’s been painful, without you,” she says with a sigh, “I ache for you, Aem.”

His heartbeat speeds up at that. He lowers his voice even more before continuing to speak.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, “Right now especially. Gods I wish you were here next to me. In bed.”

Aemond takes another glance around him, wetting his lips. No one’s here, he’s sure of it. 

“What would you want me to do?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“Well first, I’d like you to kiss me,” she begins, the smirk evident in her voice, “I miss that mouth of yours. In more ways than one.”

“Cheeky,” he comments, and is rewarded with a giggle.

“I’d want you to kiss me,” she continues, her voice low, “Kiss me everywhere. My neck, my breasts.”

“Fuck me,” Aemond curses, long fingers tapping on the table. 

“I could if only you were here. I’m so wet Aem,” she purrs into the receiver, “I’m wearing that set you bought me. You remember?” He’s so hard he can’t stand it; paper forgotten he starts to palm himself through his jeans to relieve some of the immense pressure. “The red bralette…the matching panties.”

“Fucking hell,” he stifles a moan.

“Helaena put me in the guest room,” she continues, “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So I came in here instead, I hope you don’t mind.” Her tone is teasing, he can practically hear her smile. 

Aemond squeezes his eyes shut as her breathy voice continues,  “Remember our first time?” she hums, recalling the memory. “You ate my pussy so well Aem. So slow, and soft. Just the way you know I like it. Gods, that tongue of yours,” her words turn into a groan, “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, “You’re fucking driving me crazy.”

“I just miss you. I miss your hands, baby. Your fingers especially.”

“Yeah?”

 “Mhmm. The way you hold me…squeeze me. How they feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.”

“Gods…..mine don’t feel as good.”

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Mhmm.”

“Fucking hells. Listen to me.”

A soft giggle emits from the other line. “Okay.”

“Are you fingering yourself, baby?”

“Mhmm.”

“How many?”

“Just two.”

“Oh, baby. You need to add another finger for me.”

“It’s too much.”

“Touch that pretty little clit for me, and add another finger. Gotta get you ready for me baby.”

He waits for her to do so, listening to every pant and moan she exhales. Palming himself through his jeans is no longer enough. Aemond reaches for his zipper and slowly, agonizingly slow, he pulls it down to free his cock. 

He moves quickly, releasing himself from his boxer briefs and fisting his cock firmly in his hand. His underwear is wet with precum as he tugs himself hurriedly. They’ll have to be quick. There’s no way in hells he can get caught like this. 

“Fuck. I’m so full.”

“That’s my good girl. How’s that feel?” he keeps his voice low as he asks, keeping his hand moving at a steady pace. 

“It’s so good. Not as good as you.”

His cock is pulsating in his grip, twitching at the sound of her words.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Please hurry,” she whines, “I need you so badly.”

“Oh, baby. When I get there you have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”

The line goes silent for a moment and Aemond can’t help the smirk that appears on his face. He can picture the scene on the other end of the phone so perfectly; her so close to the edge, pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Eyes widening with surprise as he takes control. 

“What?”

“You think you can call me, distract me during finals, touch yourself in my bed, and go unpunished?” he clicks his tongue, “You’ve been a very naughty girl.”

“Aemond…”

“I can’t have a naughty girlfriend, now can I?” he asks, keeping his tone light; the underlying threat of what’s to come when he gets home all he needs. 

“No.”

“And you respond so well when you’re taught a lesson, don’t you?”

He hears her inhale a shaky breath and his cock twitches in his hand. Tightening his fist he strokes himself faster.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” she practically purrs.

Aemond muffles a groan, the familiar tightening at the base of his spine growing stronger as he jerks himself off. 

“You close baby? I know that pretty little pussy must be desperate to cum right now. Gods I wish it were your perfect cunt wrapped around my cock right now. Or that pretty mouth of yours.”

He hears her whine, can picture her spread out on his bed—his bed, while he’s so far away.

“Gods Aem, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? Me too baby, me too. Go on and come pretty girl, I wanna hear it. Let me hear my perfect girl fall apart.”

He can tell when she does, her breathing more labored, those pretty moans elongating into a desperate cry. He can picture it perfectly, her falling apart because of him as she had done hundreds of times. His girl, all his. 

“Oh that’s it, baby, just like that, that’s a good girl,” he praises her through it, almost unable to stop himself. It’s only a moment later he’s spilling himself on his hand, struggling to muffle the moan that escapes him.

The line is silent for a moment before he hears the rustle of movement, followed by a giggle.

“Seven hells woman,” Aemond says, reaching for the box of tissues that are thankfully placed on the table, undoubtedly meant for tearful students. 

“You enjoy yourself?”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Aemond grumbles, quickly cleaning himself up and zipping his jeans.

“And in the library of all places,” she says, followed by a soft tutting sound, “You’re a bad bad boy, Aemond Targareyn.”

Aemond smirks, slightly shaking his head at that. 

“I miss you,” he admits, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

“I miss you too baby,” she tells him, voice full with emotion, “So hurry back to me.”

Aemond closes his textbooks and laptop, preparing to leave.

“Just one more,” he assures her, “And then I’m all yours.”

She happily hums at that, “You’re always mine.”

“Very true,” he agrees, grabbing his bag, “It’s late, I should let you go. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be waiting,” she assures him, “Right here, in this position if you’d like.”

“I’d say just how I’d like you but I’m in public.”

“What’s stopping you? You just jerked off in a library.”

Aemond barks out a laugh as he continues to leave, making his way out of the warmth of the library and into the cold. It’s begun to snow, a soft dusting illuminated by the lamps that light up campus. 

“I love you,” he tells her. 

“I love you too. Good luck on your final.”

One more final. And then he’s home. And then he’s with her. How it has been since last summer, and how it always should be. 

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected

[2kverrr]

SAM GIDDINGS - Dating Headcanons

UNTIL DAWN || Sam Giddings x Reader

sam had 0 time for drama, especially including that of her own friends'. And being one of emily davis' closest friends basically encased your life in her drama.

you didn't feel as close with sam as you were with the group. but you felt most drawn to her, her maturity, her nurture, her kindness. more or less everything your friends lacked.

she's kickass, not scared to put someone in their place, something you never quite found the confidence to do.

she hates fishing, loves gardening, tolerates publicly accessible nature reserves, enjoys outdoor activities, despises zoos and you're not so sure how you know all of this.

you doubt she knows a single thing about you. it's weird - you can be friends with the top dogs and have some sort of silly superiority over people, yet nobody really knows you.

you and sam had spoken numerous times before, each you could remember were rather enjoyable. the two of you got on really well, but it was rare either of you could get any time alone

that was until you were approximately 4 weeks away from winter break.

"for fuck's sake em, just call him." you groan, your left hand massaging the bridge of your nose, but the girl straight out refused aggressively shoving her hands onto her hips and socking her head, yelling, "how many times do i have to tell you. i? am. not. wanting. i. am. wanted. a girl like me doesn't chase after people, they cha-""emily i'm going to leave you with your problem, since it is yours, not mine. see you at lunch." and with that, you head out of the girls' bathroom and out into the busy corridor.

you catch a glimpse of sam leaning against a locker, scrolling through her phone. There’s an ease in her posture that draws you in despite the weight of your worries - well emily's. “hey, everything okay?” sam looks up, her hazel eyes sharp and assessing. it’s both intimidating and comforting at the same time. you take a breath, trying to shake off the frustration of the last few minutes. “just another day in the life of emily,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. sam arches an eyebrow, not buying the attempt at humour.

"mike? is she still hung up over him?" she asks, her voice laced with understanding. you nod, with a deep sigh and an eye roll. "well, at least you're not like that, that's what I like about you." but you're too caught up in staring at her moving mouth to actually respond, before you know it she's waving her hand in front of your face, "huh- sorry, what were you saying?" she giggles, picking up the books from her locker and beginning to make her leave, "I'll see you around."

that interaction definitely stuck with you, or maybe it didn't, but the fact that you continued to think about it for the rest of the day is a big giveaway.

you're almost certain the corner of your eye spotted a suspicious emily briefly witness the interaction and watch you stare giddings down as she walked away, but that's a conversation for later.

after that talk with the blonde, you both found yourselves in more situations on your own, bumping into each other in the hallway, finding yourselves bored at parties, fixing your makeup in the bathroom mirror and seeing a certain hazel-eyes blonde behind you.

the week of receiving the message from josh, you and sam became really close, almost replacing emily in some way. besides, emily was now happily married off to matt, a sweet boy, not the sharpest tool in the box though.

you'd manage to persuade her to let you give her a lift to josh's mountain getaway, despite her refusal she ended up in your passenger seat feeding you mints as you drive.

you get out of your car and begin to lug bags out, placing them on the floor, sam is busy checking out her surroundings quite contently. but she swiftly turns around to face you, "hey, i wanted to tell you something," you raise your head curiously along with a quirked eyebrow, "i know we've been hanging out a lot lately," she continued, her voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "but it feels different, doesn't it? like, we've really clicked, and I really like it - so please expect me to follow you around like a puppy dog... i still can't look at all the guys the same after last year." her eyebrows furrow. you sigh softly, the gears in your mind turning as you contemplated her words, "i get it sam, i like it too," you smirk, ", now am i taking both of our bags up or are you gonna' lend a hand?" she chuckles, her tension breaking as a playful glimmer replaces her earlier seriousness. "ugh - i really thought i'd get away with that." "i'll take them up for you. just lead the way," you nod, "this place really freaks me out."

settling in was a bit of a cofuffle, sam bagsied our rooms and had already called dibs on a bath.

you'd barely made it up the mountain with yours and her bags before she'd waltzed in, beckoning you to hurry up. don't even start on the wall you had to hop.

"guys, guys, hold your horses. we can't get comfy yet - generators, boilers and locks. i've sent mike and jess off to the generator outdoors, em and matt are... um- somewhere," josh takes a long scan for the couple that weren't present, ", right! sam's bath, boiler's downstairs, switch it on then you can have your beloved bath." she firmly places her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "you think i know how to work those kin-" you're quick to cut her off, "i'll go, can't be that hard." shrugging your shoulders. "that's the spirit, amigo!" the dark-haired boy cheers, fussing up your hair. of course sam's protests began, and again you managed to butt in. "look, i know what i'm doing, trust me.” you say, trying to keep the tension in the room from rising. “it should be pretty straightforward. i'll check for the spark plug first—if it’s clean, just give it a gentle pull. worst-case, i might have to troubleshoot a bit more," there's a bit of a silence, confusion mostly, "yeah, um- my dad's a plumber.” you didn't exactly understand half the words you'd just said but if it gave you a chance at impressing sam, it was so worth it. she slowly smiles, "impressive..." biting her lip, looking you up and down with newfound admiration. "who knew you had all these hidden talents?" she teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. "maybe you can teach me a thing or two about plumbing after this bath fiasco." the playful banter felt like a breath of fresh air amidst the clamour of everyone scurrying around and arguing, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. “alright, let’s see if I can live up to the expectation,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you felt. josh looks between the two of you, a devious grin slowly forming on my face, "is this- oh wow. this- this is great!" he turns around, presumably going to find chris and ash, you do the same, not at all looking forward to seeing this 20 year boiler in all it's glory.

fortunately, the boiler hadn't frozen over completely.

the basement was eerie enough, never mind all of the creepy shit happening around you: screams, shouts, smashes. something wasn't right.

like any stereotypical horror movie, you walk right into the danger to find out what was going on."

and as always, you were right. josh's basement was fucked up, led to some sort of mine, where you soon found a battered and bruised mike, stumbling his way through the caved area. his ankle didn't look so good, but he didn't complain

the next half hour you were trying to navigate your way, the poor guy was traumatised, jess had disappeared, dead or alive? not a single clue.

there's apparently somebody or something out there with her and they're in the mines, you're baffled to say the least, but you stayed put.

all until a scream was heard, female, it was far yet so close.

"mike! what was that noise?" the two of you pause your movements, and prick your heads up, faint cries could be heard and the occasional, "anyone! help!" you knew that voice, almost naturally you race over the source of the noise, struggling to find a door, "where's jess? is it her? oh, please say it's her." mike whiles up against the wall while you attempt to barge your way in. "sam! i'm here, mike too. i'm coming in." “almost there!” you shout back to mike, who is still positioned by the flimsy beam of light your flashlights provide. he looks torn between helping you and staying on guard, eyes darting nervously around the oppressive shadows. the urgency in your efforts intensifies, and you feel your fingers digging into the rough surface of the door. it shifts slightly, just enough to give you hope, and with one last shove, it creaks open. you stumble inside, breathless, and immediately the air feels thicker, charged with an unsettling energy. "fuck sam! what the fuck happened?" the girl was tied up in a chair, nothing but a towel. whoever did this must've been fucked in the head, sick. you take a cautious step forward, your eyes zeroing in on the girl’s wide, terrified gaze. “you’re alright now,” you whisper reassuringly, though your own insides are knotting up at the sight. "oh my god, you're here... i- he chased me! th- then-" the blonde leans forwards into you once you complete untying her ankle bounds, sore red marks forming over her pale skin. her arms completely wrap around you, she's freezing. sliding off your hoodie and body warmer, you begin to wrap them around the girl. "-sam, it's okay. you can explain everything later. you safe now we-" but before you can finish your sentence, the girl leans in, connecting your lips in a kiss, short and sweet due to their being a third presence in the room. as your lips part, you both freeze, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden surge of intimacy in the midst of chaos. sam's eyes are wide with surprise, glistening with unshed tears, but there’s a flicker of gratitude behind her fear. you clear your throat, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, but the urgency of the situation quickly pulls you back to reality. "i thought you were dead, y/n.”

after all police interrogation had been completed, those who survived were wasting away. josh dead. matt dead. jess dead. sam and yourself isolated yourselves from the rest.

after sam almost sacrificed herself to save you, you made an oath to yourself that you're forever indebted to her.

you were in love - even amongst the sick and twisted events that you two had to go through.

you both didn't go out as much anymore, your previous party-girl lifestyle completely left behind.

instead you both settled on movie nights or cooking sessions.

you immediately expanded her music taste, she's a great girl but her music taste could definitely do with some improving.

rock climbing dates, kayaking, surfing (which you absolutely smashed - sam could barely stand up on the bored)

sam always managed to convince you to go camping with her, bribing you with all sorts, despite your hatred for bugs.

she's the most peaceful sleeper, she looks like and angel when fast asleep. you're both early birds, which meant you really enjoy spening the morning in bed just admiring one another.

every month or so you'll pay a visit to the friends you lost together, paying respects. hell even josh - sam calls him mentally ill, whereas you call him batshit crazy. but he was your friend, one of our closest, you're still unsure to this day why you were apart of his cruel game but you couldn't keep dwelling on the past so you came to forgive him.

it's even rare to see the friends that made it out alive, you knew chris and ash moved away together, forgetting all that had happened. the last you heard off of mike was "i'm igniting some old flames - definitely going for drinks soon?"

it'd been 3 months and you never went to see him.

you and sam assumed that old flame is emily, your once best friend who you hadn't spoken to since before the disaster.

[vernons-girl]

a shoulder to cry on | lee dokyeom

angst to fluff, wc:1.1k

Teamwork was never something that worked for you ever since high school. You always ended up being the one doing all the work because others were lazy and sugarcoating the situation saying you should do it since you were the smartest one amongst the group.

And unfortunately, this pattern followed you even at work years later. Indeed you and a few of your co-workers were supposed to work on a big advertisement project for you company and much to your dismay, your oh-so-dear colleagues left all the work to you, as usual.

And having to do all the work - because of course, you could not bring yourself to stand up against them - brought you so much stress that just living life was overwhelming in itself. After hours of working your ass off on this project, it was leading you nowhere, you could not get anything done like you wished you could. So you decided to take a quick shower and dress in warm comfy clothes before heading to what you now considered a safe place : your boyfriend’s studio.

The both of you were so busy and got up with work that you barely had the chance to see one another in the past couple of weeks, you knew he was working hard on his music, even if that meant staying up late at night in his studio to get that one beat done. So you knew that coming over to see him would probably mean having to see him work all night long but you didn’t care, you needed to see him and to be with him to feel a tiny bit better.

After a quick taxi ride, you found yourself in front of the building, you decided to send Dokyeom a quick text to alert him of your upcoming visite even though he had told you an infinite number of time that you could come by whenever you wanted to. He did not replied but saw your message; which means he was probably busy but still wanted you to know he acknowledged you.

You softly knocked on his studio door before entering the room, your new presence causing your boyfriend to turn his desk chair around to face you, smiling brightly and opening his arms as a silent call for a hug, to which you more than thankfully answered, crouching down a bit so you could rest your head on his shoulder, melting in his warm embrace.

“I missed you..” he mumbled in your hair, his hot breath tickling your ear as his words brought some comfort to your heart and soul.

“I missed you too” you said back, reluctantly pulling away from the hug only to place a chaste kiss on his lips, earning another smile between giggles from your sweet lover.

“I’ll be watching over you on the couch, okay ?” you said with a smile, wanting him to know you were here for him, cheering silently from afar.

“Come over there if you need anything, alright ?” Dokyeom replied, you nodded and made your way toward the small velvety couch at the back of his studio, ready to watch your significant other work his magic.

After a while, about an hour you guessed, you didn’t feel more relaxed like you thought you would, you felt like you were stuck in a bubble of anxiety that could explode at any moment and this moment came just because your ever so kind boyfriend turned to you to flash you a smile, attempting to check up on you but his smile quickly disappeared as you failed to hold your tears back from falling down your cheeks. The sight of his lover breaking down suddenly in front of him raised an alter in Dokyeom's brain and he quickly got up from his chair to join you on the couch and hold you tightly against him, placing your face against his chest so you could find comfort in his warmth and scent as well as hiding your crying face from him, not wanting to make things worse for any of you.

A few minutes that felt like hours, you finally looked up to Dokyeom, only to be met by a worried expression painted on his face even though his eyes had an endearing hint within them. You saw how wet his hoodie got from all your tears as you let go of the soft material you had been holding tightly in your fists. “I’m sorry I got your sweater all wet..” you said in between sobs, “I couldn’t care less about this baby. What I care the most about right now is you. Do you want to tell me what is wrong ?” his kind and caring nature has always been something that made you heart swell with happiness and love and in this moment, this is all you needed, you needed your lover’s support.

“It’s just work… We had that group work to do for the company, a big project that our boss is really looking forward to get back, and my co-workers well, they left it all to me and I feel like it’s my fault for not standing up against them but all of this is just bringing me so much that I can’t even do anything right anymore and everything is just -”

- Hey baby slow down” Dokyeom softly said, cutting you in the middle of your rant. “You know, I understand how it is, I know how you are but you should not kill yourself working hard like this. Take a break, send an email to your boss to tell him about the situation and you will take it from here again, okay ?”, you nodded silently, “Now let’s just relax and forget about everything else. It’s just you and I, alright ?” he said reassuringly.

“Yes, it’s just you and I.” you repeated, looking up to him as he leaned in to kiss you gently, taking your breath as well as your worries away.

This is how you ended up cuddling up with him on his desk chair, your chest pressed tightly against his, your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, feeling the softness of his skin against your, his delicate and home-like scent feeling your senses and he lovingly caressed your back while placing a few kisses on the top of your head with his upcoming songs playing in the background to keep you two in that little bubble you formed around you, shielding you from the outside world, you didn’t need anything else than this, your boyfriend and his music being the only things feeling like home and comfort.

[al-the-remix]

TikTok Chef!Buck AU: several sentences sunday (or something like that)

I'm close to finishing the fic I've been working on so I finally felt like I could write a little something based off this headcannon without feeling too guilty about it, lol. 2k of mostly crack, please enjoy.

It all starts when Tommy’s stuck on his couch for a week with a sprained knee. He wishes he could claim it happened doing something heroic–or at the very least badass–but in truth it was the result of letting his ego get the best of him at the squat rack. 

Lucy stops by a few times to keep him company, which really means letting herself in unannounced with her spare key, eating all the leftovers in his fridge, and offering an unsolicited running critique of whatever show he’s watching. Today it was Below Deck reruns. 

“If I ever decide to take a vacation on a boat, tackle me, this shit does not look worth it.”

“You really don’t have to be here you know,” Tommy says, leaning over to grab some chips from the near-empty bag she was cradling before they were all gone. He’d been looking forward to eating those for dinner and feeling sorry for himself. 

Lucy just snorts. “Please, if I wasn’t here you’d already be up to something ill advised. I caught you looking up deck chair patterns earlier, power tools don’t go well with injuries, Tommy, even if it’s only carpentry.”

Well, she had him there. 

At least she had the decency to order them Chinese take out for dinner so he wouldn’t have to Instacart a can of soup or something equally pathetic. 

Before she left she made a grabby hand at him. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, already suspicious. 

She met his suspicion with boredom. “Don’t ask stupid questions, just do it.”

Rolling his eyes, he hands it over, giving into her whim, and maybe he should find it a little more unsettling that she already seems to know his password off by heart. 

She clicks around for long enough that Tommy starts getting nervous: what was the last text message he sent? Was it embarrassing? Were all his nudes still in that locked folder? Did she know the password for that too? Just when he was going to start asking questions she tosses his phone back. “Here, this should keep you entertained for a while,” she explains as he scrambles to catch it. “My niece wastes hours of her life on this crap.”

“Such ringing endorsement,” Tomy grumbles, she’s downloaded some kind of video app onto his phone. TikTok. Perfect. He’d heard of that one, apparently it was single handedly ruining a whole generation’s attention span and the Chinese government was using it to spy on the inner lives of teenagers with stupid haircuts and a critical lack of social skills. 

“Are you sure you didn’t just give me some kind of virus?” Tommy asks, clicking around the home page arbitrarily, the UI didn’t make a lick of sense. 

“Har, har. You were always good at picking up new skills, I’m sure you’ll figure this out in no time. I have faith in you,” she says, clapping him hard enough on the shoulder to make him wince. 

He finds his profile page by total mistake. His username reads: benchedcockwrangler.

“How do I change this?” he asks, waving his phone at her as she makes for the door. 

“You don’t,” she says, without looking back. “Don’t stay up on that thing all night, it will ruin your sleep schedule!”

Tommy winces as the front door slams and sighs. He’ll figure out how to change it later. After all, beggars can’t be choosers and three days into his mandatory medical leave he’s already so bored he’s ready to stab his eyes out with hot pokers just to mix it up a bit. 

He scrolls through the app, and based on most of what he sees he finds himself unable to justify its existence in the first place. It feels like every video he watches drags him into a deeper alternate universe where everyone’s wholeheartedly competing for the top of the podium at the Darwin Awards. 

There’s a woman digging tunnels under her apartment that Tommy is positive are not up to code (that’s a call just waiting to happen); and two young ladies mixing cocktails of a concerning hue and variety at random local establishments (not necessarily anything that would warrant a trip to the ER but potentially a health code violation); and what seems like an ungodly number of men hosting podcasts (Tommy is pretty sure that even during his darkest days rotting in the closet he had a better batting average picking up women than any of these bozos.)

Tommy’s eyes start to glaze over as he scrolls past comedians, and political commentators, and people reviewing romance novels, and–how has it already been forty minutes?

He’s about ready to give up and throw his phone across the room and leave it there until Lucy shows up tomorrow and he can make her delete it off his phone, when catchy music, an arm roped with muscle, and a criminally tight shirt sleeve catches his attention. 

It’s some kind of cooking video and his first impression is: how is anyone supposed to understand what’s going on with edits that fast? His second impression is: hot man. Man hot.

Soon his brain is catching up with his eyes, kickstarting like a toddler being exposed to sugar for the first time. 

Cooking might be a generous description for what’s going on here. The man is obviously skilled, but the main focus of the video seems to be how hot he looks in an apron (very) and whether it’s possible to bring half a peach to completion by finger blasting the pit out of it (not like, whether or not you should pre-bake your tart crust to achieve an ideal texture). 

Tommy has to watch it twice just to fully absorb everything that’s going on. He’s making some kind of deconstructed peach crumble topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and steak with fries that looks fancier than anything Tommy’s ever eaten at a restaurant. 

Half way through the video the man wipes down the worktop shirtless with a cloth sudsy enough to make Tommy’s mouth go instantly dry then suddenly wet enough he’s forced to swallow. 

He clicks through to ChefFirehose’s profile just to, you know, get a better sample size. Tommy’s not above letting himself be manipulated by a man with biceps like melons and a cute smile. 

His profile description reads: LA resident, self-taught, putting out fires and saving lives in my spare time. Just here to give the food the appreciation it deserves. Let me show off for you 😉.

Tommy thinks this guy must be new to town, because living nearly a decade even in a city as sprawling and overcrowded as LA, he doesn’t know how he could miss running into this guy on the job. There was no way he wouldn’t remember a guy this hot even through turnouts, a helmet, and smeared in a thick layer of soot.

He starts working his way back through ChefFirehose’s videos, and some are admittedly a little less chaotic than the rest, but all of them are just tongue-and-cheek enough that Tommy feels confident he’s just one in close to a million people in on a joke and not enabling someone’s very real personality disorder. 

He’s stuck somewhere between disbelief and admiration. He definitely wouldn't have the balls to post this on the internet for everyone to see and so obviously thirst over. He braves the comment section on a few of the videos and it’s just a litany of horned-up men and women trying their best to make ChefFirehose laugh, or get in his pants, or both. He replies to almost all of his comments with either a smirking emoji or acting deliberately oblivious when someone tries to bait him into giving up the bit. Tommy finds him funny and maybe a little more endearing than he should after ten videos. 

Tommy can’t really blame them for trying to shoot their shot so shamelessly. ChefFirehose’s wardrobe consists of polos plastered so tight to his skin that Tommy was mildly concerned about restricted blood circulation, dress shirts buttoned dangerously low, and slacks that wrap snugly around miles of long, toned leg. 

Those weren’t Tommy’s favorite looks though. No, every so often a video would start and he’s be dressed down in soft looking sweatpants, a baseball cap pushed on backwards plastering his auburn curls to his forehead, and a white tank top–or if Tommy was really lucky, no shirt at all (sometimes not even the apron which Tommy had mixed feelings about...), his muscled arms and shoulders on full display. He’s got tattoos decorating his forearms that Tommy can’t quite make out, a collection of fine lines on pale skin like thin ribbons of chocolate drizzled over a crape. 

Those videos are most often breakfast related and ChefFirehose is barefoot in his kitchen, the warm sunlight casting his face in gold. He paints such an enticing tableau it’s all too easy for Tommy’s brain to plop himself right down in that scene, imagination running wild. He can so easily picture what it would be like: in that kitchen, feeling the warm cast of sun on his face and getting to watch built, handsome man make him breakfast with that flirty confidence of his. 

Tommy bookmarks a video of him making an omelet, the way he handles the eggs making Tommy blush like he’s a schoolgirl and not a man pushing forty. He feels less guilty about getting hard over it on the sofa surrounded by takeout containers than he probably should.  

The screen goes suddenly black and Tommy’s faced with his own reflection in the finger smudged screen, chin rolls and all. Fuck. He reaches for his charger. God, his life was depressing at the moment, and apparently he really needs to get laid.

So yeah, by the time his two weeks of recovery are up he’s feeling a little stir crazy in an entirely different way than before. He’s never been more glad to get back to work, put some of this weirdness behind him and get some much needed distance from his phone.

That’s only part of the reason why he doesn’t even think twice when Howie calls him for a favor. A big favor. And that was only the first of many surprises the universe had in store for him, apparently.

Even fully clothed in his LFD uniform Tommy recognises him. Evan. Evan, Evan, Evan, (Tommy repeats over and over in his head until it drowns out every other name Tommy’s assigned him the past few weeks: slutty egg guy, ChefBigDick, totally off limits boyfriend material–just to name a few).

“So you’re the guy who’s gonna fly us into a hurricane.” Evan sounds a little breathless, like maybe he jogged all the way here, and Tommy chalks it up to the high that accompanies stealing government property. “Chim said you were the best pilot he knows and good in a pinch, but I still thought there was no way anyone that good would agree to something this crazy.”

Tommy’s definitely starting to feel a little crazy. Evan’s still shaking his hand. His grip is solid, his fingers long and nimble, surprisingly soft against this palm (he must really lather on the hand lotion) and Tommy can’t stop thinking about all the talented things he knows they can do. 

 “That’s me. Though I’m pretty sure I’m just the only pilot Howie knows who's in town at the moment.” 

“You look good to me–capable, I mean.” Evan gives him a solid smack on the shoulder with his free hand. His mouth does something funny like he's trying to hold back the sheer force of his excitement by his teeth. “Solid.”

His eyes are even bigger and brighter in person, smile softer, even taller than Tommy presumed. Howie’s giving them a weird look from over Evan’s shoulder. The other man with them, Eddie, isn’t paying them any attention, checking out the other helicopters parked on the apron instead, and Tommy forces himself to pull his hand out of Evan’s warm grip. 

Tommy clears his throat. “Good to know. I’ll show you guys the bird we’ll be taking. I've got her all gassed up and ready to go.”

He just met his (internet) celebrity crush and the man of his dreams, and now Tommy was going to get him killed in one of the most spectacular ways imaginable. It seems like they’re all headed for the Darwin Awards this time.

[satureja13]

The Meteorites in a (coco) nutshell

In this chapter, the meteorites play a bigger role again and since it's already one and a half years ago since the Boys found them, I thought I'd make a quick heads-up in chronological order:

The Boys found the meteorites at the Invisible Farm in Chestnut Ridge. Martha, the owner, told them the impact caused the farm to become invisible. (She had the valid hunch that supernatural creatures could be able to see the farm and she was right. And so she hired the Boys as ranch hands.)

The meteorites reacted and started to glow whenever Vlad or Ji Ho were near. Kiyoshi meditated near the meteorites to find out more and he could hear Martha's horses (they had completely vanished after the impact) and Sai had the idea to let Ji Ho and Vlad do their 'bond magic' (when Vlad and Ji Ho concentrate and touch/woohoo, 'bond magic' happens) to enhance the reaction and find out if the meteorites could help them to rescue the horses.

There was something happening between Ji Ho and Vlad but they didn't notice any other effects - and no horses. But when Jeb went jogging the next day, he found a portal! So there was an effect, just somewhere else ^^' They went through the portal one after the other but they all ended up in different places in the Otherworld. To the places where each of them found a horse. (The links to how they found the horses are in my pinned post -> here)

Martha's goats, who joined them, were able to engage a magical link between them and the horses and shared their form with the horses so they (who were quite happy in the Otherworld) agreed to return to the mundane world every now and then. Later, Martha agreed to leave the Horses and the goats (she was quite happy to get rid of the goats ^^') with the Boys because she was so thankful they brought back the farm. (That's where the Little Goats come from and how the horses joined the Boys.)

So there we learned that the meteorites were capable of sending the Boys to the Otherworld. Rubyn was eager to research the meteorites and made some tests to explore further applications for them. Only supernaturals are able to travel to the Otherworld and only for a short amount of time, so these meteorites could be of great value for the Boys.

Helping Rubyn with the research, Ji Ho found an entry about a certain Professor Callahan who predicted the crash of a meteorite pair in Chestnut Ridge over a hundred years ago! They found out that the last whereabouts of Professor Callahan were in Selvadorada and so the Boys and Rubyn went on an expedition to find out more. After a few weeks and many riddles, they discovered a huge cave with a ship!

There were pedestals for the meteorites! One on the ship and one in the cave ö.ö So even though Future Jeb warned them to separate, (in a message they found at a temple (where they also found Tiny Can)) they decided to place the meteorites on the pedestals. Vlad, Jeb, Saiwa, Tiny Can and Jack went on the Ship with Vlad's meteorite and Ji Ho and Rubyn stayed in the cave with Ji Ho's. (Kiyoshi was still in the tree by then).

The ship teleported the four of them to another cave in Otherworld's Tomarang, where they later fixer-upped the run down lot above the cave into their crappy happy home.

With Vlad being stuck in the Otherworld, the Vampires in the mundane world thought it would be a good opportunity to claim unprotected Ji Ho for themselves. Vlad sensed the danger through the bond and he and Jeb left the Otherworld to rescue him - and got lost... (They only had one of the meteorites and couldn't teleport without the other so Jeb had used his ability to travel between worlds. It was worth a try...)

Vlad had left his meteorite with Jack and Sai should Rubyn find a way to bring them back, and really, suddenly it started to glow! They brought it down to the ship to try their luck - and it took them to Britechester, where Ji Ho and Rubyn waited for them! They'd set up the pedestals from the cave in Selvadorada! (They united with Jeb and Vlad at Ji Ho and Caleb's wedding but that's another story ^^')

Later, Rubyn invented smaller devices with pieces of the meteorites in them to enable the Boys to travel to the Otherworld and back without the pedestals. Kiyoshi had joined them again a few days before and so they could travel all together back to their home in the Otherworld!

A few months later, Greg pimped their TukTuk with pieces of Rubyn's devices and the meteorites so they could travel comfortable from the Otherworld to the mundane worlds.

While helping Rubyn with her research for the teleport devices, Jack found a strange book in the old library in Windenburg.

It was called 'Escape from Batuu' and it told the story of Val and Jino. These two lovers, who swore each other everlasting love and even promised to find and love each other in their next lives, had to leave Batuu, got hunted by the First Order and experienced thrilling space adventures with their friends - hence the book.

After Val and Jino lived a very happy life full of love, they eventually died of old age, and their friends shot their urns into space, where they continued their journey together. Eons later, their urnes had transformed into meteorites. They crashed down at a farm in Chestnut Ridge the very day Vlad and Ji Ho met for the first time at Choongang Highschool in Copperdale end of July 2022... ö.Ö'

[smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi]

Long ass story, the post finally arrives! @the-copycat-hero

On the same road that a young boy takes on their way to his friend's house is a hospital. A hospital that is always busy with someone to help, so busy that the people occupying their rooms tend to blur together.

And even in the absence of the boy and the house that gave a roof to the wonderful family of the boy's friend, the hospital still stood on that road. The hospital with so many rooms, one couldn't count them without getting mixed up and turned around.

But in the mix of madness, hidden in the blur of the patients, was room 4307. The room that held a great tragedy and a great miracle of one person experienced and seen by no one before.

When passing by room 4307, the voices of several teenaged students could be heard.

A knock on the room door grabbed the attention of the three students, and the door opened to reveal a familiar scruffy man, with the most droopy red eye, constant annoyed expression, and long black hair to frame his face, perfectly signaling his "do not talk to me" vibe. Except now this man was a caring teacher, checking up on his after-mortem student.

"He should be free to leave in another week, if the doctors decide he's recovering well and it's safe for him to walk, train, study, the whole shebang." Aizawa-sensei answered the question the students hadn't known he'd heard.

"Now," he continued, not waiting for any of them to reply, "I understand you two are worried reps, but Monoma's got a few other visitors today."

Taking the hint, Shoda and Kendo said their goodbyes and exited the hospital room.

Monoma rested his chin on his hand and groaned to the teacher, "You sure know how to clear a room Teach, but they really couldn't have stuck around for a few doctors visits?" Monoma never needed to say just how much he loves his classmates and wants to be with them, but he always pushes sneaks it into a conversation anyways.

"Oh it's not just doctors."

Monoma was confused. The last he checked, none of his classmates were allowed to visit him because of his condition- Kendo and Shoda having special permission that Vlad-sensei fought for under the guise that they're his class reps.

A figure emerged into the doorway that Monoma hadn't realized was still open. A figure of long blonde hair and pale skin, who's dark green eyes were too faraway to be in the body of a caring mother, visiting her living son.

"Neito." She said loud enough so that he could hear with his very limited hearing. It wasn't unnatural to her to speak like that, she had to do the same thing growing up with her mother with the same hearing loss as her son.

But now she had to do it so her son would know she was there, not just what she was saying.

"Oh." is all he could find within him to say. Aizawa looked between the two before leaving with a quick note that he would check on Monoma later.

The woman stood in the doorway for a few moments, looking around the hospital room; the iv, the monitors, and every piece of furniture had more eye contact with her than Monoma did.

"I wasn't expecting you to visit."

The simple sentence struck her out of her stupor, looking at him almost offendedly.

"You've been in the hospital almost a week, after being dead for days. You just fought in a war and are expected to skip back over to school, and you didn't think I would visit?" Her voice raised a little as she continued talking and walked a little closer to his bed.

Monoma thought of 100 things to say to her, none of them nice, but instead he looked back at the doorway with all his might to see the blurry sliding door closed. No one else was expected to enter.

"I see dad isn't with you." Monoma tried to meet his mother's eyes, his words carrying another message: if he can't be bothered to visit, why should I expect you either?

His mother took a sharp inhale and squeezed her eyes shut. "Your father- he..." they both knew she had nothing good to say.

"He has nothing to do with me. I'm so happy you're okay." She said with such tenderness you could believe that it came from a caring mother.

Monoma wanted nothing more that to believe her- she had no reason to lie- but he couldn't stop his stupid mouth from talking. "Yeah I bet you no longer have to worry about fighting over who has to deal with the funeral services."

Monoma couldn't see it, but her face cringed for a moment, just a moment, where she looked guilty.

Despite his blindness, her silence spoke volumes and Monoma knew exactly what that meant.

"You didn't...”

"Neito I-"

YOU SERIOUSLY FOUGHT OVER THAT?! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CRAZY THAT IS??"

"I know, but I do care about you Neito- that was just-"

"Oh yes, the love and care I feel." Monoma usually had a better handle on his emotions, but at the moment he really didn't care how he was acting, he just wanted his mother gone.

"I DO-" the woman who was practically foreign to her son stopped as she realized she was shouting, and finally walked up to his bed to cup his face and spoke in a quieter voice.

"I do care about you. I love you so much, and I'm sorry that I haven't been able to make you believe that. And I promise, I will do what I can to make sure you're safe." The emphasis on safe made Monoma nervous.

"What do you mean safe?"

She let go of Monoma and backed up just a little bit, still making eye contact. "I'm taking you out of UA."

Monoma felt his blood run cold and his heart drop. "... what?"

"Neito, look around. Look at you!" She waved her hands around frantically before gesturing at her bedridden son. "Is this really the life you want for yourself? To be getting injured all the time? To die on a battlefield?" Her voice rose the more she spoke and this time she didn't try to lower it.

Monoma didn't know what to think, what to say. All words died in his mouth. When he was a kid, all he wanted was for his parents to pay attention to him, to care about him- and now he was getting that in the worst way possible.

"I am not leaving 1-B." Monoma said slowly

His mother looked aghast. "Those people got you killed and you want to go back?"

"What the hell did you expect when you convinced dad to let me be a hero? Did you think I was just going to sit on my ass-"

"Language, I am your mothe-"

"AND DO nothing!? My life is always going to be on the line. And YOU agreed to that when you let me be a hero."

His mother stared at him for several moments before speaking up again, much quieter than before to where Monoma could barely hear her, "Well I'm taking that back. I'm sorry Neito."

They stood in silence until they heard the door slide open again, a doctor and Aizawa on the other side.

"Pardon us," the doctor said, "Are we interrupting?"

Monoma's mother quickly broke eye contact with her son to address the doctor, "No, I was just about to head out. Pardon me if I stole important time from you doctor.”

"Oh you can stay if you’d like, it's just a check up and typically parents stay with their kids during these." The doctor clearly didn't understand the situation.

"It's just a check up right? She doesn't need to stay." Monoma stared back at his mother with a look telling her to get out.

Before she left she announced, "I'll be back tomorrow." And left with a nod.

Aizawa eyed her until she was out of sight and snapped his attention to Monoma, but said nothing.

The next day, true to her promise, "Mrs." Monoma made her way into the hospital that her son had been staying at for the past week and a half.

Her heels clacked on the tile floor as she started to make her way up to his room before hearing a man's voice from behind her.

"Ah, Mrs. Monoma."

She turned around to find the owner of the voice was the scroungy man who was next to the doctor yesterday. A teacher, she remembered, but his name...

"Hello. You're one of Neito's teachers, yes?" She didn't bother with reaching out a hand to shake, she didn't want to formalize with a man who helped kill her son.

"Aizawa Shouta, Mrs. Monoma. We haven't properly met."

"Well, now we have. If you don't mind me, I'm going to visit my son- who is hospitalized." Monoma said shortly, a soupcon of resentment in her voice, as she turned around and started to walk away.

Aizawa didn't try to stop her but continued talking. "Your son is actually a topic I wanted to discuss with you. We've been informed that you plan to remove him from the hero course and UA entirely, whether he wants it or not."

Monoma stopped in her tracks and whipped around, "Yes well, sometimes people make decisions for others without asking their permission. It's how things get done." She slowly walked towards the audacious man, her voice etched with discontent. "It's what UA saw fit to do when they shipped off our children to war with little regard on if they'd come home to us."

The mother stood in front of Aizawa with a face of anger and her voice a threatening whisper, “Now you may see my actions as paranoid, or stringent, but I am doing what is best for him and one day he will understand that. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next week, but this is the decision I have made and he will just have to deal with it.”

Aizawa understood where she was coming from. The hero commission demanded that everyone with a hero license were to fight, and no parents were made aware of this in case there was an uproar in reaction. Illogical, in his opinion- and look how that decision landed.

But as much as Aizawa understood and agreed with this mother's anger, he came here for a reason. "I completely understand your decision. However, your son loves being at this school, and being with his classmates. His homeroom teacher has reported that he's been much happier as the school year went on and Neito finds a lot of comfort in his friends here. If you were to take him out-"

"YOU GET NO SAY IN WHAT IS GOOD FOR MY SON'S WELLBEING." Monoma suddenly shouted as she stuck an accusative finger in Aizawa's chest, "BECAUSE OF YOUR IDEA OF "SUPERVISION", NEITO IS STUCK IN A HOSPITAL BED FOR THREE WEEKS. HE HAS A DEATH CERTIFICATE. I WOULD RATHER NEITO HAVE A LIFE AWAY FROM UA THAN NO LIFE AT ALL." She took in a shaky breath and lowered her arm to her side, body tense and unmoving.

The air was thick as silence followed the mother's shouts. Then suddenly, Aizawa lowered his body in a bow and spoke in acquiesce.

"You're right. It was my job to keep your son safe and I failed. Because of my failure as a hero and a caretaker- you, your son, and all his classmates have gone through a terrible experience and I cannot offer enough condolences and apologies to erase your pain, as much as I wish I could." Aizawa paused for a moment, clearly pensive and radiating sorrow. He kept his bow low and respectful and took a deep breath before making his request, "But despite what has happened, Neito still wishes to be a hero. He wants to continue his educational journey here at UA, and he wants to continue his life alongside his friends in class 2-B."

"So please, do not take away Neito's dream because of our shortcomings."

Monoma looked at the pleading teacher as if she had been turned upside-down. Working her entire career in the modeling industry and then at her husbands company, an actual remorseful apology was rare, and was certainly not expected from the "heroes" entrusted with her son's life and had messed up horrendously. She felt ambivalent staring at this man with an eye patch and a metal leg, realizing that those are from trying. This man had truly tried to protect her son and might have even given his life to protect him.

But all she could think was her son having the same fate- missing limbs and appendages, failing to save people and feeling sorrow and despair. Her heart wouldn't be able to take that.

"I can't... I can't do that to myself, or my son." She spoke slowly and low, her voice thick. "Have a good day." A clear end to the conversation and Aizawa watched as the woman turned and walked away, making her way to her son's hospital room.

As Mrs Monoma started to open the hospital door, she stopped at the sound of two distressed teenage shouts coming from the room.

"WHAT?!"

Through the small opening she had made through the door, she watched a short, round faced boy with light blue hair and a taller muscular redhead girl converse with Neito.

"She's taking you out of UA?" The boy said.

"She can't do that- I mean, this has been your dream for years and-" the distressed girl spoke quickly but Neito managed to cut her off.

"I know..." He held his hand up to motion the girl to stop, "But I don't think there's anything I can do. She sounded pretty ready to take me out."

Seeing the dejected look on Neito's face made his mother so upset to see. She knew that he didn't like this decision but that's what is best for him... right?

The boy sat down on one of the chairs next to the hospital bed and sat in thought, his eyebrows knit together. "And you're sure there's no way of convincing her?"

Neito's voice broke as he spoke, "I... I don't know." He brought his legs towards his chest, something the doctors definitely wouldn't approve but Neito showed no pain.

The redhead girl gripped onto the end of the bed and was practically shaking in anger. "Why does she care?" She whispered.

Mrs Monoma felt offended by the outrageous question, but there was something tugging on the back of her mind, a blurry memory of someone with red hair.

The round faced boy looked at the girl like she was suddenly someone unfamiliar.

"Well, any worried parent might do this, we should've expected it. I mean," he let out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm surprised Midoriya's still enrolled."

"But it's not like she's ever cared before." The girl let out an aggravated breath, "Now she just- appears out of nowhere and-"

"Kendo." The boy interrupted, "there's no point in getting all mad over it, Monoma's the only one who gets a say in what to do."

At the mention of the girl's name, the memory snapped to the front of her mind, and Mrs Monoma remembered a little redhead girl at her door, along with an older boy who looked similar to the girl, saying she was Neito's friend. The boy introduced the two of them as the Kendo's who lived a few blocks away.

Neito, still curled in on himself, just shrugged and mumbled something.

This "Kendo" seemed to have heard him and suddenly reached out her hands and held his face- much more aggressively than Mrs Monoma recalled having done just the day before, but Neito looked less tense with her. No, not quite "less tense", he was just comfortable. Comfortable with her, and not his own mother.

"No-" Kendo started, "no it is not okay, and we are not going to let her take you out of UA."

"But what-" he started to argue.

"You love it here don't you?" The girl interrupted. Neito stared at her for a second, surprised by the question, before letting out a small 'yeah'. "Then we are not going to let her take you out."

The hidden mother sucked in a small breath at that. How could he love it there? Regardless of any happy memories, they had gotten him killed. They couldn't guarantee his safety anymor-

They already couldn't guarantee his safety for a while.

She remembered hearing about the USJ attack, and when they were attacked at camp. She'd thought about how dangerous it was, and glad that Neito was okay, but she'd never thought to take him out over it. She barely even thought to call. She didn't care when they insisted on housing him- and all the other students.

UA had been a danger for a long time- all the more reason to take him out now.

The girl was half on the bed after reaching out to Neito, but was too focused on his face to notice or move, "You have wanted to be a hero for YEARS, and I won't let anyone take that dream from you, you hear me?"

The other boy spoke up as well, "Yeah, we'll all be right there with you, just give us the word."

Neito looked between his two classmates and his eyes became glossy. Kendo noticed and crawled on the bed to hug him.

The moment was silent as the two sat on the bed in a tight hug before Neito whispered:

"I like being at UA."

"I know Monoma."

"I don't want to leave."

"I know, we won't let you."

"I don't want to change my life, I like it now."

Kendo said nothing but squeezed him tighter.

...

....

"I don't want to change" the words rung in her ears. The woman behind the door felt as if she couldn't breathe, breath became irrelevant, unimportant to the mind of this woman. "I don't want to change," how many times had those words echoed in her head in passing thought. How many hours had she stayed in bed, wishing she hadn't changed herself for a faux man, who spoke empty promises. How many years of her life was wasted away because she allowed others to decide her life.

Hiromi no longer felt that she was standing on a hospital floor, or that she was standing at all. Everything felt lost, that she was floating in everything her life was, floating in nothing.

Hiromi? When was she last called her name. She wasn't Hiromi anymore, she was a Monoma. That's who she had been for the last 17 years of her life. That's all she was.

Is this how Neito would feel when he was in his adult years? Had he already reached his adult years? He just fought in a war, did he really still feel like a child? Could he?

Mrs. Monoma found herself sitting on the floor, clutching onto the chair next to her, but she couldn't feel the grip, couldn't feel the cool tile floors. She couldn't feel anything. Everything was lost- her life was lost, the man she fell in love with was lost, her son was lost, her beautiful sister was lost, the wedding of her dreams was lost, the cozy home she dreamed of filled with laugher and love was lost, what else? What else was ripped away from her, what else had she chosen to throw away in exchange for a life she didn't want, hadn't desired. When had this happened.

She felt as if she turned around and everything was suddenly gone. But she knew it wasn't true, she could feel the pathway of her life crumbling as she walked for years. She's cried so many nights as she felt the unsteady cracks catch at her heels and make her trip, scratches and bruises appearing in every single place, later replaced by scars, scars replacing every single part of her, leaving her nothing of the same person she once was, the giddy and ebullient woman who loved the world despite it's battles. She was now cold and emotionless, broken by the world, by her world, and breaking everything else in the process.

And yet still she walked, on a cracking, breaking, spiraling road, because what else is she supposed to do? What other road is there to go? There's nothing left, every other road she had was destroyed with her own hands till nothing else was left, nothing to fix the road, nothing to know the road even existed, except maybe a shared name or a picture, but even those are cracked and freyed, erased and thrown out.

Over the years she worked and worked, trying to appease her in-laws, trying to wash out her emotions and everything she loved in order to be taken more seriously. And for what? To become "Mrs Monoma"? "Mrs" "Monoma". That's all she was, a Monoma wife. A wife to that slimy, stinking, rotten man that can't even stick up for his WIFE, the woman he CHOSE to love, chose to MARRY- instead it was left up to her to to go against those foul people, and look how good she was at that. Left with a son she didn't want, a house she didn't want, a job she didn't want, a husband she didn't want, a title she didn't want- a "Mrs. Monoma"

Mrs Monoma

"Mrs." "Mrs." "Mrs." Was all they ever called her.

What about Hiromi? When was the last time someone ever called her by her name? When was the last time she talked to someone who called her that?

"Mrs." Oh it was all she ever heard anymore, "Mrs" "Mrs" "Mrs-

"Miss?!" Hiromi felt someone gently grab her shoulders and lightly shake her, knocking her out of her stupor.

Suddenly she could feel the cool tile floor underneath her, the grip her hand had on the chair next to her. It felt as if all of her senses came back in an instant and immediately short circuited, the lights blinding her, the ringing sound in her ears making it hard to hear what the nurse next to her was saying.

Hiromi's eyes focused on the woman and let her ears slowly stop ringing to let the nurse's voice into her head.

"Ma'am are you alright?"

"Ah, yes yes I'm fine." Hiromi put a hand on her head as if suffering a headache. "Got lightheaded for a moment is all."

"We should get you some place to lay down and some water." The kind nurse helped her up but Hiromi stepped away from her.

"Oh no I'm quite fine now, I'm just visiting my son and I'll be leaving."

The nurse knit her brows together and cautiously reached for the woman's arm. "It's dangerous to shrug off dizzy spells, do you have them frequently?"

Hiromi could recall a few after a good many hours of staring at her computer screen, or working long hours of calls, meetings, reviewing products, writing papers, and other grueling tasks- but those were caused by overworking herself. This was fine, she was fine.

"No, I don't, I am completely fine. Thank you." She began to reach for the door next to her as the nurse continued to reach for her arm, when the door suddenly opened and two high school students were on the other end.

"Oh." Kendo stared Mrs. Monoma with no attempt to hide her surprise that the woman has visited.

Hiromi knew there were many things she should say to this girl, many apologies and many thanks. But at the moment, she didn't care to do any of it; she walked past the two children and walked right for Neito.

"Miss I really do think you should sit down-" the nurse shouted but Hiromi didn't care. She kept walking towards her son and reached her arms out surround him in a stuffing hug. Probably the fist hug she's given him since he got into UA.

Neito squeaked at suddenly getting pulled into a hug, especially since he had no idea what was happening, having little vision and little hearing. But he was a smart one, from what little he heard, what he could feel, and who had yet to visit him, Neito could reasonably deduce that it was his mother hugging him.

Reasonably.

But… why was she hugging him? Monoma tried to look over where his mother had stomped over from to gain some context.

He could see a blurry figure that looked unlike his classmates walk closer and speak loud enough that he could hear her worried tone, before she suddenly stopped as Monoma could feel his mother say something, although his head was swimming so much he couldn't discern what it was.

The arms around him squeezed him tighter for a moment and Monoma could hear his mother's voice.

"I'm sorry."

Monoma could barely understand his mother. He could hear her, but what she said made no sense. Why was she apologizing? What stirred her so much that she was apologizing?

His thoughts cut off when he heard a sniffle, and his mother moved a hand to hold his head.

"I'm sorry." She said again but in a much wobblier voice.

It felt like had time stopped, the two stuck there like statues- unmoving and unbound by time. The only movement was Monoma shifting a hand to complete the hug. He held his mother and he held on tight: an action he had wanted to do for so long.

Monoma felt like a child, holding onto his mom as she hugged him tight. It felt childish to admit that the whole time he had been cooped up in the hospital, a small piece of him wanted to hug his mother. It felt dumb too.

Neito was never close with either of his parents, his mom felt estranged to him. But in that moment everything felt...

Right. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally connected. Neito wanted nothing more than to just stay there with his mom. For a moment, for a year, for forever- it didn't matter- he just wanted to stay right there.

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [3]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [4] previous chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 5.7k

status: in progress

author's note: in my head i have a certain way this story ends- but thats farrrr from this chapter. i couldn't stop laughing while writing this. i might have to rethink my ending bc i don't wanna make this series looooong. not edited.

Brutal banging on your bedroom door was not how you imagined to be awakened, especially when you were barely endearing maybe four hours of sleep.

Jolting up, you could feel your shoulders begin to ache as your severely tangled hair got stuck on the insides of your shirt. The shades in your room being shut, you had no sunlight whatsoever so you weren't sure what time it was.

Not like you needed to be anywhere important on a Wednesday- not until later anyway. Wednesday's were your arranged day off from school so you made sure to plan something productive to not feel more useless as you already were.

Typically, you were scheduled to work on these days- but we all know how that ended.

Thinking about your unemployment status aggravated you. The same day you were told you were going to be cut was actually your last despite being scheduled for the rest of that remaining week.

Oh how you wish you could say you didn't show up because of your stubbornness.

But frankly you had covid.

Not only did that job fire you, but they gave you a thoughtful farewell gift of a deadly virus to remember them goodbye.

Guess they took their storyline a little too seriously.

However, you did receive a few texts from your old coworkers wishing you well. At first, you wondered if Finn disclosed your personal medical information after you contacted him, but Jules admitted to doing so, swearing she only told Joon with the likelihood someone overheard and the rest was history.

Sadly, you barely talked to Pedro and Bella anymore.

The duo did reach out once they discovered you were sick and Bella would occasionally send you tiktoks at the most randomly times. But again, occasionally.

Pedro, on the other hand, never got back in touch after his 'feel better' text.

You weren't exactly distraught over it, it wasn't like you two made it your mission as friends to go out every day. But the thing was, you still did that when you worked together. Barely seeing him for a few seconds on some days in the past still meant you got to see him, but now you don't.

And strangely you miss him.

You always heard your coworkers discuss how considerate and down to Earth he was whenever they managed to work with him and you agreed. All the stories of him being one of the rarest, mindful human beings were true.

He was always the one spamming you with texts, but the only messages you received now were from your roommate, Joon, or the deals sent by your favorite food places.

But you weren't going to think too much of it. He's an adult, his days are always scheduled with new projects. You can't blame him for not making time for you.

Two weeks later here you were, using your extra free time to your advantage to stay up past midnight watching shows like Hell's Kitchen while eating ramen noodles.

The only con was you had the tendency to wake up late all the time.

Yanking the warm covers off your body, you slowly slip out of bed trying not to hit your desk by how poor your vision was at the moment. Opening your door, you give daggers to the other person behind it. "Is there a reason why you felt attempting to break my door was necessary?"

Jules sheepishly smiled, lightly rubbing the door in remorse before continuing. "I just wanted to remind you about our study date!"

"That's at 11."

"It's 10:32," she replied, pulling her phone out and showing you.

Gasping, you shut the door in her face before searching for clothes to wear. How could you possibly sleep in?

Actually, it was quite easy with American Horror Story having amazing plot twists. You decided to switch up your late night shows every now and then to spice things up.

But you were certain you turned on your alarm the night before. You must have slept through them. Damn, you were turning into Jules.

Quickly running to the bathroom to take a quick shower, you managed to finish the rest of your routine with ten minutes left to spare. You were certainly glad you could always count on the city's nonstop traffic as an excuse for your late arrivals.

Once you were able to catch a cab, which was a tremendous struggle considering your hand signals weren't clear enough to apprehend, Jules and you made it to a coffee shop a few streets away.

Being your designated place to study, you had to introduce Joon to it. He was practically the fifth member of the group, the third one being one of Jules' friend you frequently talked to and the fourth being the one you shared with Joon.

The best part about this cafe would have to be that it was two stories. You guess you could say you used the upstairs room conveniently when it came to debating, definitely not being afraid to raise your voice when your friends believed disagreeing with your opinions was acceptable.

"I didn't know a triple meant three shots of espresso," Joon pulled a disgusted face as Jules and you arrived to your familiar large booth. Sliding right next to him, you saw the coffee he was drinking was extremely dark. "I thought it meant three shots of creamer."

"For a guy who is phenomenally smart, you are phenomenally stupid," you heard your shared friend, Yoongi, comment after looking up from his notes.

The next hour consisted of the five of you centralizing your attention on your individual work before you decided you wanted to buy a coffee as your energy slowly drained away.

Walking down the stairs and placing a swift order, you stood to the side of the counter waiting as they prepared it. Scrolling through your phone to pass the short time, you felt someone near you.

"Hey, covid girl!" you heard a man exclaim, causing you to rush and shush him before the customers begin giving you the eye. "Long time no see."

"Don't expose me like that! I'm negative," you flush, tapping your fingers on your face to cool it down.

"Don't expose me," he clarifies, taking two steps back. "You're the one who's sick."

"Was," you groan, not standing for his teasing this morning. "Stop messing me with me, Nick. I am just a tired, broke college student who can't take anymore mocking in their life."

Nick chuckles, not denying that may be the case. He understands how you're feeling, he was once a student and knows how stressful it can be. Honestly, he can only imagine how tough it is now compared to when he last attended.

Inflation was no joke.

"I take it you're studying?" he eyes the large black frames on your head and the thick headphones around your neck. You only nod, making him laugh. "Very studious I see, it's a shame they let you go even after I told them not to. You could've done our taxes."

Pulling a forced smile, you just raise your right shoulder slightly not really wanting to talk about it much.

"Good thing I am very understanding," you joke.

"Hell, I wouldn't be," he curses, shaking his head briskly. "The least they could've done was offer another position while we left the country."

"When are you guys leaving anyway?'"

He looks up at the ceiling, trying hard to remember the exact date before clapping his hands. "The 3rd of next month."

"Three weeks from now? Are you ready for the cold and the snow?" you laugh as he shakes his head.

"Dealt with it growing up, don't wanna do it again," he groans before a barista calls out his name for his coffee. He excuses himself for a minute, grabbing the coffee along with a few napkins before walking back to you. "Have to get back to filming, they only gave me a half an hour break before we change scenes. Good look in university, kiddo. If you ever need anything you always have my number."

With that, he retreated back outside but not before sending you one final wave. You loathed the fact you missed them, but you had to get over it.

Grabbing your coffee once your name was called, you walked back up the stairs to find your friends staring at their own laptops as if they were going to breakdown in tears any second.

"When I tell you I would rather give up one of kidneys than learn about screenwriting," Jules weeps, pulling her hair in distress. "I just wanna tell people what to do, not write stories."

And that's how your whole study session went, one of you having your own malfunctions for the next few hours before the five of you agreed to end it.

"I am going to get a refill, meet you by the door?" Jules asked as you packed up your school belongings. You nodded, allowing her to walk downstairs with her friend as you stayed behind with the two other boys.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Joon called out as the three of you were making your way down the stairs. "I'll be out in a jiffy."

With that, Yoongi and you were stuck around a large crowd of customers trying to get their coffees in this 5 o'clock chilly evening. And one thing about these customers, they loved to push.

"If one more person hits my arm a brawl will unfold," Yoongi proclaims, making sure to raise his voice a bit to make his point come across. Which did nothing as he was granted another push in his arm in return.

Moving you head towards the exit, you made it clear to Yoongi that you two were better off just waiting outside unless you wanted to continue being compressed by total strangers whose been god knows where.

Feeling Yoongi's loss of touch from your shoulder, you sensed a group of friends rudely crossing between you both in order to make it to the front of the shop.

It amazed you how people had no manners in public places.

"Ah!" you shriek, feeling somebody aimlessly hit your body hard, knocking the wind out of you as you fell on your side.

That was until arms wrapped tightly under your upper arms, barely being able to stop your whole body from touching the ground as you felt you legs lay across the cold floor.

With the strong pair of arms effectively pulling you up, it caused you to slam your body against their unknown chest as the mob of customers didn't seem to die down any time soon.

Trying to find some stability, your eyes widened as your peripheral vision was met with a broad chest that you were too scared to figure discover who it belonged to.

This could either end with you meeting the love of you life or encountering a complete weirdo.

Moving your gaze upwards, you were met with familiar brown eyes that creased slightly as a gentle smile was released.

Okay, the second option was indeed your answer.

"Pedro? You fucking scared me!" you pushed him away, slapping his chest as he whined in response, clutching it in pain. "I was going to grab my pepper spray!"

"I see you're still satan," he glared as you crossed your arms. "No 'thank you for saving my severely mentally mad life from the mass of people who could've stamped over me'?"

Expressing an infuriated expression as he scared you, you begin to walk away from him but he quickly pulls you back into his arms and stares down at you. "Why are you leaving?"

"My friends are outside," you declare as he peers over the crowd to see who you were talking about.

He glances back down at you before pushing you straight by your waist, causing you to trust his guidance as he directed you backwards until you were against one of the walls to avoid being crushed again.

"Wait, my friends-"

"You wear glasses?" he slightly grasps the frames propped on your face, generating a strike from you. "What a dweeb you are."

"Isn't this a question you can ask through text?" you remark, causing him to purse his lips at how mediocre you were being.

"Oh come on, kid! I haven't seen you in weeks, it's my right to ask questions," he defends, giving you a staggering look as you sighed.

"And my glasses were the first thing that came to mind? Very clever."

"Would you rather me ask why we say 'cool' when it's not really cold?"

Studying his face in pure boredom, you set out to march past him but he pushes your shoulders back again, forcing you to stay put. "Sorry! Just trying to lighten the mood."

Scanning past him, you tried to locate your friends but to no luck they were absent. Glancing back up at him, you take a deep breath. "I really have to go before they leave me stranded a-."

"I can take you home," he instantly speaks up. "I know where you live remember."

Laughing, you disagree with his proposal. You arrived with Jules, you were leaving with her. But you were curious as to why he hasn't left you alone. It surely couldn't be just to chat about corny jokes-

Actually, you've had many of those conversions in the past.

"Is there a reason why you aren't letting me escape?" you blurt out, making him tilt his head suspiciously, trying to figure out what you were speculating.

His body language became edgy as he motioned his palm out in front of you. "I just so happened to drop by for some coffee and ended up being tackled by you," he confessed, making you scoff. "We haven't talked for some time, I wanted to check up and see how you were doing."

"I am as happy as a clam," you let out a radiant smile, making him squint his eyes and direct them to the side.

"English, please?" he pleaded.

"It means I am very happy," you respond, standing up straighter as he questioned you longer with his eyes as if he didn't believe a single word you were saying. "Everybody knows that expression."

"They really don't," he denies, giving you an awkward smile by your strange dialogue. "Anywho, I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you call?" you accidentally spit out, shutting your mouth as you grasped how bitter it came out.

He caught onto the sound of your tone, registering how unhappy you must've been for abandoning you friendship after strongly bonding for two months.

But he couldn't let you believe he did it on purpose, he had a reason. One that he was finally going to disclose after fighting battles until it was finally approved. "I was preoccupied with something else, I really am sorry," he apologized. "But I was going to reach out today."

Uncomfortably shrugging, you don't put too much thought into it. You didn't want him to assume you were upset, but you had a feeling he could sense it by how tense you were becoming.

"For what?"

He looked around before averting his eyes back to your own, grinning widely. "So I think there's a chance you'd be able to get your internship back."

Standing up straighter, you stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?

"How? They already terminated our useless contracts," you argue. "Why hassle making another one."

"Work for me," he ignores your sour tone, getting straight to the point.

This was why he didn't have time to communicate. Too busy trying to find ways to convince his own boss to keep you, it led to him being in a bad mood after failing each attempt.

He couldn't talk to you knowing his plan went wrong.

After the constant begging, whines, and even going out of his way to format a ridiculous petition as to why you should stay, which centers all interns because he didn't want to throw himself under the bus for you- the main producer eventually gave in.

"You want me to work for you here when you're leaving the country in a few weeks?" you narrow your eyes, confused as to how that was going to work out in the end.

"I was going to sneak you into my suitcase."

"What in the world are you rambling about?" you exhaled sharply.

Pedro grinned brightly as he held onto your shoulders again, "Come with us to Canada."

"No," you quickly answer, not even processing fully but you knew it could never happen.

There was no possible way you could ever go through with this. For one, you can't even leave the country. You parents were so strict they'll probably smuggle drugs in your luggage so you'll be gunned down and locked into the country.

Second, well there really isn't another reason- your parents were enough.

"Oh come on," he whined. "It'll be great! You'll gain so much experience like you've been wanting. Plus, you'd do more hands-on work with the film crew. Think of it as a student exchange program."

"That's literally not what a student exchange program is."

"Stop rejecting the idea. You go to school here, yeah? I assume you're taking classes online because you basically lived at the studio," he implied and you slowly nodded. "We can adjust your schedule to where you'd have time to work and focus on school."

Silently looking to the table nearby, you began digesting what he was going on about. It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't an easy one either. "My parents would never let me."

"Give me their number and I'll convince them," he persuades and you sway you head. You wanted to laugh in his face if he really believed he could make your parents agree.

"No," you fight back, watching him exhale loudly by how restrained you were being. "I k-"

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Immediately shutting your mouth, you freeze as he catches you off guard. He did not come to play and knew you well enough to use your weaknesses against you.

He knows Matt Healy would easily agree- that man was literally the devil's spawn.

And god, you just knew Matt would be disappointed in you if you didn't go.

Curse you and your infatuation over this short English man.

Luckily, your thoughts disappeared as you felt a tap on your arm. Looking up, you see Yoongi breathing heavily as Pedro eyes him, unsure if you knew him.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere! My god the lecture your friend gave me about losing you-" he groaned, shivering. "-I was certain she was gonna file a police report."

Slowly averting his eyes to the older man beside you, Yoongi's face fills with curiosity. "Hey, aren't you that one guy from that Netflix show..." he stops, looking up as he tried hard remembering the name. "Narcos!"

Pedro's eyes shoot open as he tries to innocently stretch his body, purposely blocking your view of him, "No." Secretly waving his palm across his neck, he sends Yoongi daggers to keep quiet. Stiffly turning to you, he becomes flustered. "But don't watch that show."

Raising a brow, you decide to drop the random topic and focus your attention back to your friend until you heard another person shriek. The three of you searching to where it came from, you find Namjoon stumble between people, trying his hardest not to fall face first on the floor.

"A jiffy later and I'm back," Joon winks once he's released from the mass.

Pedro scrunches his face. "Jiffy?"

Joon breaks out into smiles once he notices who was with Yoongi and you. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Did you miss us that much?"

"I don't think it was you he missed," Yoongi muttered, making Pedro send him a questionable glance and Joon tilt his head, not sure what he meant.

Wanting to leave this now weirder conversation, you step forward and grab onto Yoongi's shoulder. "Let's go, I wanna breathe." Turning your attention back to Pedro, he swiftly moved his eyes from your hand to your own. "Text me if you need anything else."

"Only you," he sends you a cheeky smile making you blush by how nice he was being. Yoongi glanced at the two of you, dazed as what you two were implying.

Staring at him, you waited for him to say his farewells first so everybody could leave already. Waiting for one, you never received anything but his quiet stance and gaze stuck on you.

It felt strange not feeling the strength to walk away- not even the strength but the need to go anymore as you couldn't take your eyes off him. It also wasn't only you as he couldn't help but bear comfort from the sight of you.

It felt like the both of you were interacting to each other in your minds.

"Are you having a staring contest?" Joon questioned, making your your consciousness come back to life as you looked back at him. Pedro's gaze weakened, but they were still on you as yours was unfortunately long forgotten.

"No," you laughed, now gripping onto Yoongi harder. "But seriously, let's get out of here. See you whenever, Pedro."

Watching as you stayed close to your guy friends in hopes of being secured through the populated room, he sighed to himself. He was sure your friends might confess their own intuitions to you and perceive him as a creep.

The sad part was he knew why your particular friend would have his suspicions. He never knew his age would have that much of an effect, but he never hung out with people that young before unless it was for a project.

Shaking these thoughts away from his head, he chuckled to himself. He shouldn't care about what other people thought, the two of you never engaged in anything but friendly encounters.

He just despised his gut feeling as if he was doing something wrong. People are making him feel this way, that was guaranteed.

But he feels awful how he keeps trying to find ways to see you, too embarrassed to think about the things he done just to see you for not even a minute.

He's just never had a friend like you before. It was nice.

"I can't believe he's offering us a job like that!" Jules exclaimed as Joon and you nodded. Yoongi lived in the opposite direction so he made his departure a few minutes ago as well as her friend. "I can't go."

Widening your eyes, you stared at her. "What? Why?"

She laughs before pointing at herself. "You think I'll be able to properly manage school and work in another country? I barely did that these last two months- I'll just be partying it up at hockey games eating gravy with fries."

"You mean poutine," Joon corrected.

"Same thing," she rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is, being home made me realize how much I love sleeping. I would rather give that up when I graduate and actually have a real adult job."

She did have a point, she really enjoyed her naps.

"I'll consider it," Joon spoke up, putting his hands inside his hoodie as the three of you continued walking. "Doesn't sound too bad, it'll look good on resumes."

Smiling, you nodded. You weren't sure why you even dared to be happy about this when you were the one wanting nothing to do with the idea not even a half an hour ago.

You just knew your lord was giving you a disapproving glare from the clouds.

Within the next 20 minutes, Joon went his separate way home as Jules and you arrived in front of your shared apartment. Rushing to the bathroom, your roommate excused herself for the next hour for her 'needed' relaxation.

In other words, a bubble bath.

Turning on the tv, you sat down on the couch swiping through boring news channels until you decided to switch to Netflix. You still had to make time for Evan Peters before the night ended.

Clicking on the current season you were on, Freak Show, you began thinking about how massive Evan Peter's hands were. How can his girlfriends survive.

The thought freaked you out, this really was a freak show.

Soon, the next episode began featuring Twisty the clown more and you were terrified by how huge he was. He could crush you with a flick of his fingers.

Knocks on your door alarmed you, making you slightly jump and look towards the bathroom. Your roommate's music was softly playing in the background meaning she probably couldn't hear the blows on the door.

Slowly standing up, you grab the bat you keep near the door, in case someone tries viciously murdering you in your doorway, and go on your tiptoes to see what kind of stranger needed to pay a visit in the middle of the night.

Well, it wasn't even 7 o'clock in the evening yet but you get the point.

Gasping at the sight presented through your little peep hole, you promptly unlock the handles before extending the large door wide. "And why exactly are you here? Miss me that much?" you tease.

Not receiving an answer, you scoff. "Are you really giving me the silent treatment? You're hurting my feelings."

When he didn't react to that either, you felt your face drop. Slowly striding towards him, you notice his head was low as he stared at his shoes. Placing your right palm softly on his left shoulder, you felt him glance up.

Did something happen during your short time apart? Was he in trouble?

Knowing it was really you in front of him, Pedro lunged his body onto yours before you could stop and think about what was happening. Colliding his lips upon yours, you felt your thoughts drift away as he steadily moved forward and made his way inside your warm apartment.

Stopping to swiftly shut the door, you had no time to take in a full breathe before his mouth found yours again. Clutching the back of his head, probably pulling his hair out, you groan as his nails claw your exposed waist, your shirt slowly inching up more and more as the seconds went up. Slipping his tongue inside you, you felt the way his nose hit yours as dominance took over.

He wanted to control all of you.

It wasn't until your legs began wobbling from the long standing when his hands lost your waist, instantly making contact with the back of your thighs, squeezing them, soon allowing them to suffocate his sides. Following his lead, you pull your lips back before diving them to the corner of his jaw as he groaned, walking to god knows where.

You figured out where once you shrieked as your back made contact with your couch, his palms widening your legs in a hurry before situating himself on top of you. Surprisingly, the difference of weight wasn't an issue as he clinged harder against you, moving his hand behind your neck to pull it down, making sure to make you feel the pain of the slight hair tugging.

"What are y-" you softly choke, voice coming out in whimpers as he ignored you. Latching his lips to the top of your chin, he stuck his tongue out, dragging it gradually down your neck as your back arched, needing to feel closer to him if that was even possible. Your wish was his command as he hastily pressed himself against you, making you groan in surprise.

Making his way lower, he passes your neck down to your chest while his hands found their to your collarbone, smoothly rubbing the area up and down before clutching onto it harshly as he continue down his path. Something about the way his soft fingertips applying pressure near your neck as his lips kept kissing the rest of your body had you in wonders. You couldn't believe this was happening.

It wasn't until you felt his mouth near your exposed waist that made you completely lose it. You had long forgotten that Jules was in the room next door when you gasped, feeling his teeth swipe against your skin. "Shhh," he whispered against your lips as a way to silence you. "Don't want to let your friend know I'm here now, do we?"

You could only stammer shaky sounds as he planted a few more deep kisses, slowly pulling away and feeling the wetness of both your mouths descend down. He gave you one last dark gaze before returning his mouth on yours, loving the feeling of the dampness between your faces.

His mouth opening wider, he began intensively tasting you, swiping his tongue around your lips as you tried to keep up with his eagerness. Not giving you much time to catch his pace, you could feel how wet he was making you.

No, he was literally drowning your face.

Pulling back, you squint your eyes and take a few seconds to adjust to the poor lighting in your living room. You were met with dark, green eyes.

Lady Gaga.

Shrieking, you grab the black, green-eyed demon on top of you and throw her off, causing her to let out a loud hiss with the immediate sounds of footsteps following afterwards.

"Lady Gaga!" you hear Jules squeal in her pink robe, wrapping the nauseating cat in her arms before turning to you, giving you a look of rage. "Did you throw her?!"

"She licked me!"

Jules scoffed harshly before hurling a nearby pillow at you, allowing it to hit your face in full force before stomping back to her door and violently slamming it shut.

You fucking hated that cat.

Laying back against the couch, you rubbed your red face in humiliation. Not only did you have an intense dream about Pedro but you're pretty sure you just had a full on make-out session with a cat.

Groaning, you couldn't believe what was happening to you. Why would you dream about him-

No- why would you have one doing not so child friendly activities?!

You just know you'll never be able to face him with a straight face, too embarrassed to even be near him now without thinking about this moment.

It wasn't even like you thought about him in that way- you didn't.

Maybe your time of the month was approaching or you were in desperate need of a date because there's no way any normal human being would fantasize over some older man that way.

Okay, maybe it was possible.

But that was definitely not you...even though you just did. Although, you did see the comparison between him and Lady Gaga.

They looked kind of alike- right? Same whiskers.

One thing that was certain was you were never going to tell anybody about this. If people believed for one second you had feelings for him, which you don't, you'll never hear the end of it.

He was not your type nor close to your age. It would never happen.

Sighing, you close your eyes and silently send out a prayer to not engage in another session with the demonic cat. Maybe sleep will make you think clearly once awoken and abolish all these wild concepts floating through your head.

But once you were actually awoken, your mind still wasn't clear- or maybe it was because the pounding on your door ultimately pulled you from your slumber.

Stretching your arms, you scratch the top of your head as you try to open your eyes but it was no use, you were way too tired to fully engage with anybody right now.

Completely avoiding looking through the peep hole, which was a red flag on your part, you swing the door open to find a man who looked like Pedro standing on the other side of it.

Groaning aloud, you slap yourself as he takes this by surprised, not sure why you just did that.

How are you having another dream about him? Was this the bad luck needed after scoring tickets to your favorite band? Is this some kind of sick revenge someone has against you?

Pointing at Lady Gaga, who was dressed up as Pedro, you rudely spit out the words needed to be said. "You are just a cat. Nothing happened between us."

With that, you step back inside, ignoring Lady Gaga's attempts of trying to gain your attention by waving their arms in front of you. Making your way to your room, you see Jules walk out of hers.

"Who was that at the door?" she questions, hearing another round of knocks appear.

You tiredly wave your hand in nonsense, denying that thought. "It was Lady Gaga, go back to bed."

Jules sends you a bewildered look as you enter your bedroom and face-plant on your cozy bed, allowing sleep to reel you back in. Turning her head, she looks at Lady Gaga who was sitting casually by her bedroom door.

"She is turning fucking nuts," she whispers to herself before swiftly opening the door to reveal a very confused Pedro. "What's up?"

Pedro's concerned face takes over his actions as he jumps to his eager questions. "Is y/n okay? She thought I was a cat."

Jules shrugs, rubbing her eyes with her palm. "Who knows, I think she's getting over her coffee hangover."

Pedro carefully nods, still skeptical as to what happened to you. What did you mean nothing happened between you two? Did something happen that he wasn't aware of?

Were you hiding something from him?

Gracelessly gesturing his leave, Pedro walked quickly down the hall as Jules stood there for a moment too tired to comprehend why he paid the apartment a visit this early in the morning. The sun was barely out, why did he come?

After shutting the door and taking a seat on the couch, she laid back and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but for some reason a strange intellect emerged out of nowhere.

She shrugged it off, instantaneously knocking out, too exhausted to conquer her suspicions.

+

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: language, angst.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Another three weeks had passed, and Y/N willed their bad luck wouldn’t strike again tonight. Their last attempt at a second date saw her bedridden with the flu and doubly miserable at another failed attempt to rekindle a relationship with Dean. He had been understanding and told her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she knew he must be just as frustrated as she was that Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned all hope on their second chance.

Today though, Y/N felt fit and healthy, Dean wasn’t on shift, and she was spending hers in an empty office catching up on paperwork and overtime claims. She’d instructed her staff to only disturb her if it was absolutely necessary. If things finally went their way, neither should be stuck or injured at work this time, and that thought gave her hope that this would finally be it.

Dean was full of nervous energy and decided the best way to use it up was to give Baby a long overdue tune-up, clean and polish. It was perfect timing, too, because then she would be looking her best when he took Y/N out to the fanciest restaurant Lawrence had to offer, and by the time he was finished, he’d be a few hours closer to his date with Y/N; it was a win-win.

He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten sick and had to cancel last time. The whole day fate hadn’t been working in his favour, so when her text came through, it was the cherry on top of what had been a really fucking shitty day. When he called her later to see how she was, she sounded dreadful, and he’d immediately offered to come over and look after her. Y/N declined, saying all that would achieve was him getting sick too, and then their date would have to be postponed for even longer.

Knowing Y/N was working today made him a little apprehensive that something would crop up at the last second and force another rain check. Still, he was trying to keep that niggling thought buried. And so, with a coffee-filled travel mug, Dean made his way outside with his tools and got to work sprucing up his second best girl.

Her message came in at 4pm.

Y/NCheck the news. I’m so sorry, De xx

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and huffed loudly at their atrocious luck. Turning on the news, he watched the aftermath of an overturned lorry on the freeway, blocking the road in both directions and multiple vehicles colliding with it or other vehicles.

“So far,” the news anchor reported, “there have been five fatalities and over twenty people with injuries of varying severity, and several people are still trapped in their vehicles. Emergency workers are doing all they can to free them, with relief crews being called in to assist.

“Meanwhile, Lawrence Memorial Hospital is nearing its emergency patient capacity and has set up an outdoor triage area for the walking wounded, keeping the hospital building free for those with more serious injuries that need attending to.”

His cell rang shortly after, and Dean was only briefly disappointed that it wasn’t Y/N. He knew she’d be swamped, and he probably wouldn’t hear from her until everyone from the accident had been treated. Still, he had a sliver of hope that it might’ve been her.

“Bobby, I just saw the news,” Dean answered the call.

“So you know why I’m calling?” Bobby said, his question rhetorical. “I’m sorry to ask you to work when you’re supposed to have plans tonight…”

“It’s fine. Y/N’s on shift and already sent me a text cancelling. It’ll be all hands on deck at the hospital, so I might as well come in. At least it’ll stop me from drowning my sorrows,” Dean chuckled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sure you’ll get that date soon,” Bobby replied, but right now, that wasn’t much comfort to the younger man.

“I’m starting to think we should just cut our losses. Maybe something’s trying to tell us something,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean-”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten,” Dean cut in, not feeling in the mood to hear another person say how perfect they were for each other when the simple task of going on a date seemed impossible.

It would be a long night, but at least he’d have work to keep him from spiralling down the self-depreciation hole he usually did when Y/N had to cancel plans.

With all trapped persons rescued and the accident site secured by police and awaiting cleanup, Dean’s Firehouse had been posted to the triage area at the hospital to help wherever possible. They were giving first aid, handing out food and water, and checking up on patients in the hospital on behalf of concerned family and friends who were outside waiting for news of their loved ones.

He’d even got to speak to Y/N briefly a few times, and those little moments of light in what was otherwise a dark situation had kept his spirits up. And now that the last few patients were being treated, he finally felt he could breathe easier. Maybe, he’d even be able to convince Y/N to go for a bite to eat before they both went home and slept.

Trawling through the hospital’s hallways, Dean’s only focus was finding the nurse who was slowly taking hold of his heart again and taking up most of his thoughts since coming back to town. He almost missed her as he turned another corner and walked down another corridor.

Stepping back to the room he’d just passed, Dean paused at the window, praying he was wrong and that the woman sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her legs and head on her knees, wasn’t Y/N. Opening the door and quietly stepping into the room, his heart ached at the realisation that it was her and that the usually strong and kept-together nurse was in tears.

“Hey, Princess, what’s the matter?” Dean asked, making his way over and crouching in front of her. Y/N looked at him, eyes red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears, and he threw all caution to the wind as he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

They remained embraced on the floor for a while before Y/N’s tears stopped, and she’d stopped gasping in shallow breaths between her heartwrenching sobs. Dean was at a loss on what to do at first, but then he remembered that this was Y/N. His Y/N. And though she was stronger than she looked and more capable than people gave her credit for, sometimes the only way she could process her emotions was to cry.

“Sorry, I needed that,” Y/N eventually spoke and wiped at her eyes. “Days like this, when we lose so many people, never get easier to process. Sometimes I just need a little time to cry it all out.”

“No need to explain to me, Princess. I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that if you don’t let it out now, it’ll eat away at you and eventually consume you. I’ll always be here to ground you whenever you feel like that, alright?”

“Thank, De,” she sniffled and smiled softly at him. “I suppose we should get back out there, huh?”

“In a few minutes. The last patients are being treated, and Ellen, Jody, and Bobby have called a staff briefing at 5am. We’ve got a little time to calm you down some more,” Dean kissed her forehead and smiled, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter and pulling her into his body a little closer.

After urging everyone who’d gathered for the briefing in the hospital canteen to have something to eat before they went home, Dr Ellen Harvelle, Charge Nurse Rowena Macleod, Sheriff Jody Mills, and Fire Chief Bobby Singer thanked their staff for the exceptional job they’d all done in the face of such tragedy and dismissed them from their duties. Reserve police officers and firefighters had started their shifts early to allow those who’d worked all night to go home and rest.

The doctors, nurses and hospital staff who’d been on shift when the accident happened or been called in as backup would be relieved by those who’d either volunteered to stay and work a double shift or agreed to come in on a rest day.

Dean got to have breakfast with Y/N after all, but they were joined by Benny, Bobby, and Jody. He couldn’t complain, though, as he saw the smile come back to Y/N’s face as she talked to Jody and playfully rolled her eyes at Benny’s southern charm and blatant flirting. Dean didn’t rise to the Cajun’s bait, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Now, I know you’re a workaholic, Y/N, but please tell me you didn’t volunteer to stay on?” Uncle Bobby asked with the stern look that never made her listen to him when she was a child and certainly wouldn’t make her listen to him now.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been working for…” Y/N glanced at the fob watch attached to her scrub top pocket, “twenty-three and half hours. If I stay any longer, I would be endangering the patients, particularly because I haven’t had a break, let alone any sleep.”

“Good. You look like death warmed up,” Bobby stated before shovelling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. “I feel like it too.”

“Go home, honey, before you fall asleep at the table!” Jody chuckled, and Y/N responded with a lopsided smile before grabbing the empty plate and used cutlery and standing from her seat.

“Alright, I’m going! Uncle Bobby, Jody, I’ll see you Sunday. Benny, it was nice to see you again,” she smiled tiredly at the blue-eyed man.

“You too, cher. Take care of yourself, you hear?” Benny winked at her before digging back into his breakfast.

Dean stood and lifted his used dishes and walked with her to place them on the counter, which was home to all the used crockery. “You doing okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, nothing a hot shower and a decent sleep won’t fix,” she smiled.

“Alright. Call me later, once you’ve had some sleep?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I hope you’re going home to get some sleep too?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have another debrief back at the firehouse, then, I am going home and crawling straight into bed,” he chuckled at her smile of approval and with a final farewell, Y/N left the hospital canteen, grabbed her purse from her locker and went home to sleep.

Waking up hours later when the sun had gone down, Y/N lay in bed trying to process everything that had happened the past few days. It was always tragic when they lost a patient, and serious incidents like yesterday were awful and never got easier to deal with. In moments like this, it was easier to think of the tens of patients they saved than the six they had lost.

The next thing to cross her mind was Dean. Y/N had been glad he was posted at the hospital because she was really starting to miss him. The first couple of times they couldn’t go on their date, she’d still been able to see him, but she hadn’t seen him in twelve days because she’d been so ill with flu, and she didn’t want Dean to see her like that. Sure, it might have been extremely vain of her to think that way, but she felt it was too soon to be at her absolute worst with him.

Y/N was also disappointed that things kept coming up. Granted, neither of them had chosen what happened to stall progress on their budding relationship. No one could’ve predicted her father would die right after their first date and put any thought of another date onto the back burner for weeks.

Neither of them could’ve guessed that Jess would need to finish work early and Y/N would need to be the one to take her shift, nor could Dean or her have done anything to stop Cas from getting injured on a call. And there was no way either could have foreseen what happened yesterday, resulting in them having to work.

Suddenly, she had an overwhelming pang in her chest and a strong urge to be with him, to say to hell with the fates, dates, plans, and schedules. She just needed to be with him. Needed him.

Knowing Dean wouldn’t be working after pulling an all-night shift, Y/N threw the bed covers off her body and showered. She was going to go over. Who needed a date anyway? She and Dean had been on hundreds of those and, she hoped, would go on hundreds more.

This was no longer about want for Y/N. It was about need.

Next Chapter >>

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[nbofvoid]

It's Cold Outside

Written for the dreamnblade christmas event @alterdnbweek is holding this year.

Day 24 Prompts: Stuck Together; Embarrassment

Happy National Eggnog day everyone! Grab some if you can and enjoy it spiked or not. Oh, and happy Christmas Eve if you celebrate.

Just a quick note for how this au works: admins on their own servers get a permanent 'perk' that removes any weather or environmental affects they might encounter. Others on the server are still affected by it, though.

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

Dream is wandering around, trying to find any hidden spots that he'll have to take care of before the others find them. In the very start, he didn't care as much if they did find things, but with the many, many wars that have started over near anything, he doesn't want to risk them getting their hands on something that would cause even more destruction. L'Manberg alone is taking weeks to repair and that was just some tnt and two withers that were taken care of pretty quickly. He doesn't want to think what would happen if they get a hold of something more powerful.

He's focused on his map, trying to figure out where the hell one of the markers is when snowflakes start landing on it. He frowns, brushes them off and hunches over the map more to block more from landing. It's always a risk when traveling through the colder regions, but these flakes are refusing to stop and he's constantly brushing them off.

Sighing, he looks up and-

Oh.

Well... being in the middle of a blizzard probably explains why the snow kept landing on his map. It's impossible to see anything specific through the white swirling around. The map is going to be useless and he vanishes it back to his inventory to free his hands. He holds them in front of his eyes, trying to spot anything he might be able to hide in. There was a village marked on the map earlier and he's pretty sure he's still close to it. He just has to hope he's heading in the right way.

Dream's careful as he walks, pressing under the few trees he comes across to mark them in case he does start going in circles. He doesn't come across the same marks and what feels like a hours later, he finally spots a building barely visible in contrast to the white whipping all around him. He beelines straight for it, spotting a few fences around and launches up the staircase at the first door he sees.

It's heavy and hard to shove open, but he gets it open and man. Dream might not be affected by the weather like the others thanks to being the admin, but the cold is not fun. Neither is being covered in snow.

He starts brushing the piles of snow off himself, muttering curses as he watches the pile at his feet grow. This is a damn strong storm and he hopes it-

Cold metal presses into his throat and he goes very, very still. His eyes track along the sword to the hand holding it and up to Techno glaring at him.

They stare at each other for a long moment until he finally breaks it, "Uh, nice storm going on?"

"Why the fuck are you here?" Techno demands, an ear flicking.

"I was just taking a walk! And I didn't notice the weather turning," he says, seriously wondering if he should just dive out the nearby window. His neck might be cut open because of how hard it's pressed to him, but it's probably better than staying where he's not welcome.

On the other hand, does he really want to run blindly through this blizzard with an actively bleeding neck wound and no clue where he's going? Might be better to just wait. If Techno kills him, he'll respawn out of the blizzard and if for some reason Techno decides he can stay, cool.

"You aren't walking back through this," Techno huffs, lowering the sword and turning back to the counters covered in potion ingredients.

Dream blinks, "Um, what?"

"You already got lost in this storm once. Do you really want to do that again? Because I will dig out my comm and message everyone that you did."

"I was trying to read my map! I didn't notice the storm coming in!"

Techno stares at him, "So you're saying your awareness of things around you is that bad?"

Dream opens and closes his mouth wanting to argue that he does have awareness of what's going on around him, but then Techno will just go back to mocking him for getting lost in the storm.

Techno hums, looking down at whatever he was in the middle of doing, "You're going to want to get out of those clothes before you get sick."

"That's not how that works," he mutters, carefully taking a few steps further into the room. "I'll be fine."

The building doesn't look bad. Is pretty nice, actually, though it is definitely built with only a single person living here in mind. Chests crowd most of one wall, the kitchen another, a small living room consisting of a single chair, lamp, side table, and rug, and a ladder that connects to two trap doors leading up and down. He's not sure about the lower level, but the upper floor can't be that big given what he quickly saw from outside and this room.

"Then you're standing there until you dry off," Techno says. "You aren't ruining my property value by destroying my stuff."

He nods slowly and turns to stare out the window. There's not much out there. Just a huge curtain of whites and greys that shows no sign of breaking. He squints at it, pulling out his map to check what kind of biome they're in. If it's just a taiga, the storm isn't going to last that long, but- This is a tundra plain. It could last for several days.

He vanishes the map again and resumes staring out the window. The thunking of a knife comes from behind him as Techno works with the various ingredients. Dream shifts, his clothes sticking to him oddly as they dry unevenly and he starts looking at all the things in the room again. There's a few small things he didn't note before - a few plants tucked against a different window, a basket with balls of what looks like yarn shoved almost behind the single chair - but there's nothing that holds his attention for long so he finds himself staring at Techno's hands as he cuts up various ingredients.

It's interesting to watch him work with something that requires a more delicate hand. Dream's only had the chance to see him ready for a fight before, never in this kind of domestic situation.

The knife gets very close to Techno's knuckles, but it never nicks him even when the ingredient he's working with is small. He doesn't pause at any point except to grab a new one and adjust it to the correct position and Dream is fascinated as he watches even when Techno puts down the knife and grabs some other tool already prepared on the counter. This one he dumps a bit of the ingredients into and starts smashing it with a rounded stick. Each time he's done, he dumps the remains into a glass vial.

Techno stretches, arms reaching above his head almost to the ceiling and Dream tears his eyes away from the shirt sleeves that road down enough to reveal solid muscles underneath.

"...Okay, you're dry," Techno says and his head snaps right back. "I'll get you a spare bed to use down here. Don't look through anything, got it."

And he vanishes up the ladder leaving Dream alone on the bottom floor. He can hear movement above him, some faint muttering, and then the heavy shifting of wood paneling as Techno descends. A bed is dropped right in front of the door and he looks between it and Techno.

"Are you really using me as a blockade to protect yourself?" he asks.

Techno stares back at him, "Which one of us got lost in a blizzard and is squatting in the other's house?"

He squints behind his mask, "...Touche."

Techno snorts, waves at the bed, and turns back to the counter where he starts packing all of the things he was using away. The tools are set in a bucket under one of the counters, but all of the ingredients are vanished into his own inventory and he heads downstairs with them.

Dream is sitting on the bed when he comes back up, not bothering to look at him as he locks the lower trapdoor and climbs up the ladder to what has to be his bedroom. He blows out a breath, looking around for a moment before tucking himself into bed. This isn't the worst place to be stuck in during a storm no matter how long it might last.

-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----

(Dream will forever deny that he wakes up the next day coughing and sneezing and shivering under the heavy blankets with Techno staring down at him with a raised eyebrow. He will refuse to acknowledge when Techno mocks him for thinking staying in wet clothes after being in a blizzard for who knows how long. Though he will, quietly when no one else is around, admit that Techno is really good at taking care of someone when they're sick.)

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

AU Notes:

as mentioned at the top, admins aren't affected by things like the cold. they can still get sick if they spend close to an hour wandering around in a blizzard and refuse to take off their soaking wet close or to warm up.

this au takes place sometime after techno moves to the tundra, but before other events such as tommy's exile and the butcher army. i'd say it's up for interpenetration if things change or not because of this, but it is at least very possible the butcher army arc is derailed.

I am intending to get tomorrow's fic posted hopefully in the morning as well, though it might be later depending on how long it takes me to proofread it and in case anything happens to come up. I'm also planning a little bit of a christmas surprise so keep an eye out :)

[baby-alien11]

Anniversary (Y/N Ulrich Universe)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @camiesully @ethanlandryluver @nowitsmissing @aliciacat20 @gabbylovesreading @nikfigueiredo

Late august, 2022

After nearly two months of filming, the production of Scream VI ended and to celebrate, a wrap party was organized on the terrace of the building were everyone had been living, which had a similar vibe to all the mini parties, game nights and dinners that were held there, but this would be the last time everyone will be in the same place until the premiere in march

During the time in Montreal, you spend it with your dad, the cast, and most important, Jack (and his mom)

Since the moment both of you talked for the first time in the welcome party and then the first date, both of you became inseparable feeling an instant conection since those first moments, and now with end of filming you were going to miss seeing him everyday, yes, the calls and text exist but it wouldn't be the same

That night was being a blast until the moment with all the food, drinks, dancing, karaoke and everyone in nice outfits (your choice for that night was a pastel pink tank top, a black tennis skirt, platform ankle black boots and your southside serpents jacket and your hair in a half up ponytail with a pink ribbon)

"Hey, can we talk in a more private place?", Jack asked you with his hand on your back while the karaoke continued

"Yeah, sure", you nodded

Leaving the empty glasses that once had virgin coktails on a table near them, Jack guided both of you, with his hand still on your back, to a little private part of the terrace, which was a small corner that was more or less covered by some plants and flowers

"So, what do you want to talk about?", you asked with an eager smile

"I like you", those three words that just came out of his mouth were enoough to make your breath get stuck in your throat, "Since the first time we talked to our first date to this day, I've been developing feelings towards you, and I know it's only two months and a half since we met, but I feel a strong conection between us and you know -"

"Jack", you interrupted him mid speach at what he looked at you like a deer in headlights, "Oel ngati kameie", you said refering to that phrase of Avatar that you learned the meaning and how to pronounce it when both of you watched the movie in his room after you told him that you hadn't seen it, "I like you too, I've been feeling this since our first days together, but I didn't say anything because I didn't know if you felt the same, but I'm glad we feel the same"

"Yeah, me too", Jack nodded followed by small laughter between both of you, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to", you smiled

Asking for permission to kiss you which was granted, Jack took your cheeks with his hands to bring close your faces while you put your hands on his waist due to the height difference, finally connecting their lips in a kiss that lasted a few seconds, until both of you listened the start of a song that made you separate but still keep your faces close to each other

"They really put 'Lover' right now?", you laughed

"I kinda tell Mason what I was planning", Jack explained, "So it must be him who put the song"

Still laughing, both of you shared another kiss before joining hands to go back to the others

Late august, 2023

Now, a year later, you were currently in the floor of your room preparing the box that was going to serve as the package for the gifts you bought two weeks prior, while Tatum played with one of her toys in your lap

After seeing a tik tok about a girl doing a box that the moment you remove the top it will open revealing a bunch of photos and sweet messages, you decided to try to do it, so now you were surrounded by the box, printed photos of both of you and things that connected you, scissors, glue, markers, paper and your laptop open in Pinterest while your playlist was sounding in a medium volume

"Tornado, everything good?", Skeet asked entering your room with a glass of orange juice, "Need some help?"

"I'm good at the moment, thank you dad", you said taking the glass to drink it, "What do you think about the box?"

"It looks nice", Skeet responded sitting on the floor next to you paying attention to the screen, "Are you searching photos of both of you on Pinterest? Why?"

"Because, for every photo I had of Jack and I on my phone there are twenty on Pinterest, some that I didn't know they existed, and also I'm putting some fanarts"

"People are doing fanarts of both of you? That's great"

"I know, my favorite is one of us in our looks of the Scream premiere but with ghostface masks, I'll send it to you later"

"At least it isn't a blanket with Jack's face on it", Skeet joked refering to the gift a fan gave you during the Fan Expo in Denver

"That was creative", you laughed taking a glance of the blanket that was laying on your bed, "And still want to know the reaction of the page when that girl ordered it"

"You should do the same"

"I don't have enough time for that, and I'm saving that for his birthday"

"What did you get him again?"

"A little chain with my initial and a stuffed baby cow, because he sent me a tik tok about them saying they were so cute, and the box of course"

"Even if all my relationships with your mom, Amelia, Rose, Lucy and other girlfriends didn't work, I'm happy that you and your siblings are in happy and healthy relationships with amazing people"

"Dad, you are going to make me cry and the tears are going to fall on the pictures, and I'd have to print them again", you joked making him laugh, "But thank you, I really apreciate it"

"It's what I'm here for", Skeet simplified getting up from the ground with the help of your vanity chair, "I'm going to buy some things, do you need something?"

"I'm running out of pads and tampons, you remember the brand and type I use?"

"I got it on my note app"

"Okay, thanks dad, and can you buy me a pumpkin spice latte with little ice and a pup cup for Tatum, please?"

"I'll see what I can do"

"Thank you", you exclaimed while he was already out of your room, "You're the best!"

When the day arrived, you woke up thanks to your phone ringing by a videocall from Jack which you answered still a little asleep, but still the call lasted for at least an hour until both of you had to go to prepare everything for the afternoon

And even so, he still did not tell you where you would go

"Wear something pretty", was the only thing he said

So, thanks to that only information and thanks to a shopping spree you made that same week, you got a blue with small flowers sundress to wear no matter the place he took you, straightened your hair adding a pearl headband, did your make up, added accessories and prepared your bag with your things, and the only thing left was the choice of shoes

"Dad, what shoes do I wear, the pink heeled sandals or the white nike sneakers?", you asked standing in the stairs with both shoes in hands while Tatum went down to climb onto the kitchen island, "I don't know where is he taking me, so I'm kind in a crisis right now"

"First, you look nice, second, both will look good but if you are going to walk a lot, the sneakers, if it's going to be somewhere relaxed were you are going to be sitting, the heeled ones", Skeet responded giving Tatum some fruit, "Which bag are you going to take?"

"The white Lady Dior, the one they sent me on my birthday"

"That one matches with everything"

"Dad, you're not helping", you cried going back to your room

"You cannot scape now", Skeet said looking at the orange cat, "It's too late for that"

Twenty minutes later, the door was knocked at what Skeet went to answer, seeing Jack with a bouquet of flowers on the other side smiling

"Hi", Jack greeted

"Hey kid", Skeet returned the greeting letting him enter the house, "You look good"

"Thanks, I'm going to take her to Pacific Park to recreate our first date, so I wanted to wear something comfortable", Jack said aproaching Tatum to scratch her between her ears

With that new information, Skeet aproached the start of the stairs

"Tornado, use the sneakers!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, trust me", was the last thing Skeet said before returning to the kitchen area, "She's coming in a minute, do you want something, water?"

"Sure, thanks", Jack nodded

"So, an amusement park, just like La Ronde back in Montreal?", Skeet asked

"Yeah, that was our first date and was special so I thought that going again to an amusement park was the right thing"

"Except for the part that there won't be adults this time", Skeet joked causing Jack to laugh, "You know I'm not a strict dad, but I want her here at midnight, and if you feel tired to drive to your house you can stay here to sleep, understood?"

"Totally", Jack nodded

"I'm ready!", you anounced getting down from the stairs with a white jean jacket, your purse and the box gift in your arms, "Sorry for the delay, I had a small fashion emergency"

"Don't worry, it's okay", Jack smiled looking at your whole look, "You look amazing"

"Thanks, you look handsome as well", you smiled looking at him

"These are for you", Jack said handing you the bouquet of flowers

"They're gorgeous, thank you", you responded taking them in your hands

"Kids, before you go I want to take some photos", Skeet interrupted the moment taking his phone out, "Don't worry about the flowers, I'll put them in water"

Leaving your things on the kitchen counter, both of you stand in the living room, the window ot the backyard and in the backyard for some photos, before going to the date

"So, where are we going?", you asked once the car started

"Somewhere", was Jack's only response before starting the way towards Pacific Park

When the amusment park started to be on sight, you turned to look at Jack with a big smile on your face, while he had the same expression occuping an empty parking space

"An amusment park?", you asked still smiling

"Yeah, do you like it?"

"I love it!"

Leaving the gift boxes in the trunk to open them later, both of you walked inside the park noticing it was a quiet night with not many people in there

"Where do you want to go first?", Jack asked

"Maybe the rollercoaster", you suggested, "I mean, so we can eat peacefully after that"

"That's a great idea", Jack agreeded, "We don't need to throw up again"

"No we don't", you laughed

Hand in hand, both of you walked to the rollercoaster to stand in line and wait until it was your turn to ride the game, taking advantage of the wait line to take some pictures and videos

After being in the ride and concluding it wasn't as intense as the same in Montreal, the route along other rides and games continued, in which he won a stuffed turtle that he gave to you, and later when you won a boba tea plushie that you gave to him

Taking a small break to eat, both of you decided to get two types of pizza to share and two sodas

"This has been fun", you commented taking a sip of your cherry soda

"And we don't have to worry about throwing up", Jack joked, "I was so embarrased after that"

"I was worse", you laughed, "The first thing we did after the ride ended was run to the closest trash can and throw up, not even different one, it was the same"

"Our parents stood there for a few seconds before helping us, and then after we finished they left us sitting on a bench to get some water, and we started to laugh"

"The next morning we didn't left our rooms because we felt sick", you finished, "I can't believe it's been already a year"

"Time flies", Jack nodded, "Remember when we kept the relationship private?"

"Three and a half months, it was fun because everyone was keeping the secret with us"

"And when we went public everyone was more relaxed"

Interrupting the moment, your phone started to sound at what you pulled it out noticing it it was Scott wanting to do a videocall

"Should I answer?", you asked Jack, "We're on our anniversay date"

"It might be important", Jack shrugged

Sighing, you anwered the call focusing both of you faces, seeing Scott face a few seconds later

"Hey mom and dad", Scott greeted, "Happy anniversary"

"Hey, my child", you greeted, "And thank you"

"What's up?", Jack spoke, "Everything good?"

"Yeah, sorry for interrupting your date but I needed to tell you this", Scott said, "I know it's still august and that, but I'm going to be in town for the Halloween weekend and I decided to throw a party"

"Sounds cool", Jack smiled

"I already told the others, and I'm assigning themes per person, couple or group, yours is Scream"

"This was intentional, right?", you joked

"Of course it was", Scott laughed, "And I don't want to see you repeating your looks of this last movie, you're an influencer/VFX make up artist and you're an actor, I need to see creativity!"

"We'll do our best", you promised, "Wait a second, did you call me an influencer?"

"Honey, you've been one since the day you hit ten thousand followers on instagram", Scott justified, "Now you have more than two million there and a million on tik tok, you are one"

"Can I bring some friends?", Jack asked

"Of course, the more the merrier", Scott exclaimed, "But I need their names for the list"

"Willa and Romeo"

"So, you're following Heidi Klum party style?", you joked

"I don't want people I don't know or like in my house, K and B for example", Scott explained, "But after you ended them on the late prom they won't dare to be in the same space as you, by the way, I'm going to assign Willa and Romeo Barbie as a theme"

"Okay, we'll let them know", you nodded

After saying goodbye and ending the call, both of you finished eating and continued with some relaxed attractions, until it was half an hour to the closure time that both of you decided to go to a more comfortable place to open the gifts which was a small picnic table next to some food stands in the Santa Monica pier

"Here's your gift", Jack smiled sliding a big soft yellow box towards you

"And here's yours", you also smiled sliding the big blue box you spend almost a week making towards him, "Want to start?"

"Sure", Jack nodded

Standing from the table to lift the top, the box openned from the four sides revealing the baby cow with the medium jewerly box and al the pictures and words on the interior

"This is incredible", Jack exclaimed examining the box causing your smile to increase, "I love it, the baby cow plushie is so cute"

"The tik tok you sent me of baby cows and how cute they were were the reason I bought it", you explained, "The box was also an idea I saw on there and I thought it was so creative that I had to do it"

"It's so beautiful, thank you so much gorgeous"

Taking the jewerly box in this hands, Jack openned it to see a delicate gold chain with your initial in a small size so it will be comfortable to wear

Without saying a word, Jack was quick to walk to you and take your cheeks to kiss you, at what you responded placing your hands on his neck

"I love this so much, and I love you", Jack said the moment the kiss ended, "Can you help me put it on?"

Nodding, you stand up from your seat, while he sat in your side of the bench, to retire the collar from the box and put it around his neck securing the clasp

"There it is", you said, "How does it feel?"

"It's perfect", Jack responded, "It's your turn now to open it"

Still smiling, you sat by his side to open your gift box, revealing an himalayan salt lamp, a jellycat of a bashful sloth and a jewerly box

"It's the salt lamp that I saw once on instagram", you exclaimed taking it out to examine it, "It's beautiful"

"I know you'll love it", Jack smiled, "And also a jellycat of one of your favorite animals"

"You're killing me of love", you exclaimed making him laugh

Taking the jewerly box, you openned it to reveal a gold chain with his initial

"No way we thought the same for the gifts", you joked sitting on the bench again

"You almost all the time are singing 'Call It What You Want' and that part of the song was the one that made me gift you the collar", Jack explained, "After I saw your gift I realised that we are completely connected because we thought the same to give each other"

"I love it", you smiled, "Can you help me to put it?"

Nodding, Jack took the neckale from your hands while you pullep up your hair so it would be easy to put it

After he finished putting it, both of you shared a kiss before sitting there and contemplate the view with your head on his shoulder and his on top of yours with your hands intervined

"Jack, oel ngati kameie"

"Oel ngati kameie, Y/N"

jackchampion, helloimpresleycash, addisonraee, and 119, 024 more

one year together which has been the best of my life, thank you for being by my side in everything, i love you

yn.ulrich I want to wear his initial

On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

tagged jackchampion

jackchampion love you gorgeous

› yn.ulrich love you babe

user753 STOP! THEY'RE SO CUTE!

skeetulrich kids, i'm happy that you found each other

user784 wait a minute, they've been together for a year??

› user038 yeah, they said they got together since the wrap party of scream vi

misstrinitybliss love you guys

user1389 did someone notice that she used a lyric from reputation and pressley liked the post??

› user22 and she has a snake tattoo, and her favorite era is reputation 👀

yn.ulrich, masonthegooding, camimendes and 129, 405 more

i can't believe it's already been a year since we've been together (one year and two months and a half since we met), i guess it's true when they said that time flies when you're in love

jackchampion Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth

The girl in my story has always been you

I'd go down with the Titanic, it's true, for you, lover

tagged yn.ulrich

yn.ulrich i love you so so much

› jackchampion i love you more

madelame i'm about to cry, this is so cute

user120 he did a reference to a james cameron movie in the description??

› user893 no, that's a lyric of lover remix

skeetulrich i'm happy that you are part of our family, kid

masonthegooding you know, your anniversary would be perfect if I was there to put music

noahtwitch favorite couple

user109 i'm so happy that they survived the pandemic of couples breaking

[specialagentlokitty]

Melendez x reader - our stories

Grumbling under your breath, you stormed over and slammed the file on the table.

“Your results.”

“Is that the way you treat the people you work with?” Melendez asked.

“Only arrogant assholes who think they’re better than everybody else.”

“Keep it up and you’ll be written up.”

You said nothing and he picked up the file to read through it.

“Run them again.”

“I’ve just run them, it’s a waste of time, clearly we need to start antibiotics.”

“And I’m telling you to run these tests again, so go.”

“It’s scut work!”

“And that’s what you’re on until you start treating people with respect.”

You scoffed.

“I’ll respect you when you start respecting me and Shaun.”

With that, you walked off and turned to Shaun who was waiting outside.

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No Shaun, I didn’t. And you’re not either, come on.”

He quickly followed you.

“I could hear you shouting.”

“It’s nothing Shaun, let’s just go rerun those tests.”

“Okay.”

You were still stuck on scut work like you always were, and you were debating moving to a different hospital.

You had plenty of offers from other places, you were a highly sought out candidate for a residency.

So after a few more weeks of clashing heads with with Melendez, you began looking at a few vacancies, weighing up your options.

When your phone began to ring, you looked at it and chose to ignore it, since you didn’t want to speak to your boss.

When it kept ringing you simply just sent a message saying you were sick and turned your phone off.

But then your house phone began to ring, and with a heavy sigh you walked over and answered it.

“What?”

You listened to the voice of the nurse on the other end, and you were already rushing around trying to gather everything.

“I’m on my way.”

Hanging up, you tossed it aside, changed, grabbed your mobile phone and rushed out of your apartment.

You drove as fast as you could to the hospital, running straight into the ER.

“You’re late and ignoring a call in.”

“Shut up.” You snapped.

“I have put up with you long enough, I will be writing you up and we will be having a meeting about your behaviour so let’s go.”

“No.”

You began rummaging through all the files, looking for a specific one.

“That is enough!”

Melendez took the files away from you, and you slapped his hand away making a few people stop before they carried on.

“This kind of behaviour I would expect from Shaun, but from you? You are out of control and out of line.”

You barged past him, and you began to look at all of the rooms.

“Is this you trying to prove a point? You’re being childish!” Melendez snapped.

You carried on ignoring him and he grabbed your arm.

“Stop!”

You spun around, shoving him backwards.

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

With that, you carried on and you disappeared from his sight.

He didn’t have time to chance you, he had things to be doing so that’s what he went to do, deciding he would deal with you afterwards.

So he went to his next patient with Claire, Jared and Shaun.

“My sister…”

“One of the nurses reached out to your family Joshua, she’s coming.” Melendez smiled.

Joshua took a weak breath, nodding his head as he let the doctors check on him.

“You need new lungs.” Shaun said.

“Murphy.” Melendez snapped.

The door was slammed open, and you rushed over to Joshua, taking his hand in yours.

“You came…” he whispered.

You placed your hand on his head.

“Of course I came.”

You looked to Melendez before turning to the others.

“Help him.” You said quietly.

“We’ll do everything we can.” Jared said.

You nodded and pulled a chair over to sit next to your brother, only half listening to everything that was being said.

Not long later Melendez came back in.

“I need to ask a few follow up questions.”

“Let him sleep.”

“Alright. Then I’ll ask you. Can we talk over here?”

You nodded, getting up to follow him but you wouldn’t leave the room, so he closed the door, letting you stay inside.

You kept your eyes closely on your brother.

“When he came in we did some tests, and an MRI on his lungs revealed masses we can’t make sense off.”

“So what do you want?” You asked.

“I want to know why, or I want permission to run some more tests. Until we figure out what’s causing his issues we can’t help Joshua.”

“What’s your initial prognosis?”

“(Y/N).”

“What is your thoughts?” You asked sternly.

He sighed heavily.

“Right now, a transplant is his best option, but if we know what the cause is we can possibly find the real answer. Either way we will get it.”

“Then run your tests.”

“(Y/N), I want to help your brother.”

“Run the tests.”

With that, you walked away.

Melendez wasn’t sure what he expected from you, but it wasn’t that.

He knew you wanted to help your brother, but he wasn’t expecting you to be so recluse about your life what you would prefer them to run tests over answering a few questions.

But he ran the tests just like you had told him to do.

He came back with everybody with the results, and he looked at the rest of the team.

“Go, get some rest. We’ll handle the next step in the morning.”

He walked into the room and closed the door.

Your brother looked up from his phone, and he set it aside.

“We found some abnormalities on your tests, and we ran a few more with your sisters consent. You have extreme scarring to your lungs.”

Joshua sighed, coughing a little bit.

“I know.”

“You know? Does (Y/N) know?”

“Of course.”

Melendez sighed heavily as he walked over.

“There’s a few possible options, but the only long term solution is a transplant, how did you get scars this bad?”

Joshua smiled a little.

“Smoke burns after a while.” He said.

Melendez gave a look of confusion.

“When I was a kid.. I was trapped in a fire, but the hospital didn’t look that hard at me.”

“You have no other scars indicating damage from a fire.”

“Because I didn’t get burned.”

Joshua looked towards you, and so did Melendez.

“I won’t say anything else.. just do what you have to.”

Melendez nodded his head, and they did what they could to give your brother some more time while he wanted for a more permanent solution.

But the doctor found his attention kept going towards you, and even after your brother was cleared to go home with frequent check ups, and you returned back to work, he had questions.

So finally he decided to act.

“Can we talk?”

You sighed, doing the buttons up on your jacket.

“Make it quick.”

You followed him over to an empty on call room, and he closed the door.

“Joshua explained how he scarred his lungs. It explained he was left in a fire, he explained he never got burned, which for that kind of damage is a miracle.”

“These things happen.”

Melendez sighed.

“I want to run some tests on you to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you were in the fire for even half as long I doubt it.”

“Listen to my breathing if you want, you won’t find anything.”

He walked over, and he listened to your breath, and it was perfect, not a hint of an issue with your lungs.

“I never breathed in smoke, because I stole an oxygen tank from the firefighters when they weren’t looking, I stole two, one for me one for Joshua.”

You sighed, sitting in the bench.

“My brother didn’t get burned because I did, I covered him so he wouldn’t get hurt.”

You rolled up your sleeve to show him your burned arm, and rolled it back down.

“Our parents were shit, they never loved us, and left us to burn in that fire. And I would’ve stood and watched that house burn down if my brother weren’t in there Melendez.”

You stood up, picking your bag up.

“So before you start thinking everybody is the same pretentious ass that you are, maybe you should take the stick out every once in a while and see we’re all human. We’re all healing over something, and it’s no excuse for you to take out pain out on us.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. Okay? I am. I was wrong and I should never have treated you with such disrespect.”

You walked turned to the door.

“Maybe we can start again, as friends?” He asked.

“Not a chance.”

Melendez watched you leave and he ran a hand over his hair.

He had messed up big time, and it was possibly going to cost the hospital and him one of the best surgeons that they had ever seen.

He felt bad.

And he wanted to make it right with you, not only that, but he genuinely did want to know more about you, and get your scars looked at properly.

But he knew it wasn’t going to easy.

Everybody had a story, and he had a feeling that was only a fraction of yours

[riacherrby]

summer love

(if you think that the plot is too similar to the “the notes diary” so yes. it is 😔)

It was a summer that started like any other but ended completely differently. Y/n, an old friend of Bianca, returned to Bianca’s hometown after a long absence. The girls had been friends since childhood, and every time Y/n visited for the summer, it felt like time stood still, and they were back to their endless teenage adventures. But this time, things were a little different.

Bianca sat on her porch, waiting for Y/n’s arrival. They had talked on the phone, and Bianca mentioned her new friend, Henry Hart. Y/n, however, listened with mild irony. Bianca always liked to talk about her friends, but this Henry didn’t seem that special to her.

“Oh, here you are!” Bianca exclaimed joyfully as soon as she saw Y/n’s car pulling up to the house. The girls hugged and immediately started discussing plans for the summer.

A few days later, Y/n met Henry for the first time. He approached them while they were walking along the beach. From the first glance, Y/n didn’t like his expression—he seemed too bold and self-assured. In turn, Henry thought Y/n was too cold, too arrogant. To him, she seemed like just another rich girl—snobby and self-satisfied.

“Hi, I’m Henry,” he said with a slight smirk.

“Y/n,” she replied shortly, barely looking at him.

They exchanged stiff smiles and continued talking with Bianca, avoiding each other as much as possible. Their first impression of each other, to say the least, was not great.

Despite the cold start, Y/n and Henry gradually started spending more time together. Bianca was always around, but soon enough, they began hanging out on their own. Henry was fun, spontaneous, and full of enthusiasm, something Y/n, with her slightly strict and thoughtful nature, didn’t quite understand at first. Yet, with each passing day, something about him made her see the world differently.

One evening, they were driving along the coast, Henry behind the wheel of his old car, and Y/n sitting beside him, watching the sunset.

“Why do you always look so serious?” he asked suddenly.

Y/n smiled faintly.

“Maybe I just don’t show my emotions to everyone. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

Henry looked at her closely, trying to understand.

“I thought you were… I don’t know, a bit stuck-up,” he admitted. “But it turns out you’re not like that at all.”

“And you were right,” she said, laughing softly, but there was no anger in her voice. “People often judge too quickly.”

From that moment on, their relationship started to change. Henry realized that behind Y/n’s serious and cool exterior was a deep, kind heart, and Y/n saw in Henry not just a fun guy but someone capable of real feelings. They began spending more and more time together—riding motorcycles, going on road trips, having picnics on the beach. Their connection became natural, as if they had known each other their entire lives.

But Y/n couldn’t ignore her family. She knew her parents wouldn’t approve of her relationship with Henry. They came from different worlds. Her family was wealthy, with clear expectations for her future, and dating a simple guy who didn’t fit into their plans seemed unacceptable. One evening, she received a message from her parents saying it was time to come home.

“I’m leaving in a week,” she said quietly to Henry.

They were sitting on the beach, looking at the stars. Henry immediately felt a knot tighten inside him.

“Leaving? Already?” his voice trembled. He knew this moment would come eventually, but he wasn’t ready for it.

“Yeah. You know I can’t stay here. My family…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words. “They don’t approve of us.”

“And you? What do you think?” Henry turned to her, his eyes searching for an answer.

“I think this has been the best summer of my life,” she whispered, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She loved him, but she understood that their story was doomed from the start.

The summer ended too quickly. Their goodbye was short, too painful to prolong. Y/n left, leaving Henry on the same beach where they had spent so many unforgettable evenings. He stayed behind, staring at the horizon, knowing she wouldn’t return.

She knew she couldn’t come back to this town the way she used to. Their story was short but intense, and it would forever remain in their hearts. Sometimes love comes not to stay but to remind you that it exists.

Nothing lasts forever.