#and if you’re wondering why this took me so long I actually have an excuse this time! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swordsandholly · 8 months ago

Text

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

635 notes · View notes

daenysx · 10 months ago

Note

hi love <3

first off i wanted to say that i find myself lurking in your blog way too much than I should (i mean i have a life and i cant spend all day reading your fics, OR CAN I?) and i love how you write and hejsusjsjsj you just make my day, so i hope you’re having a wonderful day gorgeous💗

second of all, can i please request either a poly marauders or a sirius (or James whichever you think fits the story better) x fem reader where her birthday passed and just no one seemed to really care except for the boys? Some of her friends forgot and some others gave a half hearted birthday wish and she just feels sort of unloved? and just lots of hurt/comfort/cuddles/fluff hehe thanks

if u cant tell, im projecting🤧 my birthday was on the 9th and lets just say it was not that important of a deal for most people :)

you are the sweetest angel, my love, happy late birthday!! i'm really sorry, you deserved the best birthday and i hope you can accept this little fic as your birthday gift!! ♡

it's my first time writing for poly!marauders, please share your thoughts with me!!

poly!marauders x fem!reader, fluff + a little hurt/comfort

your cheeks ache from giving smiles to your boys all day.

it wasn't an eventful birthday for you, but it was so so nice. you woke up to kisses from james, his whispers of sweet nothings as remus came back to your side from kitchen. sirius's hair was wet from the shower he took as he does every morning, you and james watched how remus took care of his curls from bed. you spent more than an hour just staying in bed, feeling more loved than ever with their words and kisses.

when remus finally convinced you to leave the bed, james offered to carry you in his arms all the way to kitchen. "anything for my birthday girl." he said, your lovely boy. sirius kissed your lips as he handed you a cup of coffee, pancakes and fruits were just like you enjoy. a perfect birthday breakfast, you laughed at every joke sirius made, accepted every forehead kiss from james. remus was giving you heart eyes, you blushed from the attention you got. he gave you an easy smile and you blew him a kiss.

the boys had plenty of offers for your birthday celebration but you decided to stay at home. you wanted a quiet day with them, just being lazy and careless. thinking about wishes and dreams about your new age. you liked how easy it was to do as you wanted with them, no explanations or excuses needed.

you could hear the whispers coming from kitchen when james got you comfy on his chest, cuddling on the couch. he kissed your hair, your arms tightened around his body. legs tangled, fingers curled up on his shirt.

you checked your phone, the screen was bright, showing there's a birthday message from lily. you smiled, replied her long text. there were other texts from a few of your friends. well, technically they were birthday messages but- none of them felt like they actually wished you the happiest birthday. why would people text like celebrating someone's birthday is a chore? you frowned, couldn't accept the fact that you were in fact, waiting for something better. didn't you deserve it?

james noticed how your smile fell, he could see the texts on the screen. "happy birthday, love u." that girl was supposed to be one of your closest friends. you really were expecting something more- heartfelt? you always tried to make sure people you like know how much they are liked by you, texted the sweetest messages to them, cared about their birthdays more than yours. it didn't feel fair. still, you didn't want to jump into conclusions and ruin your day. you let go of your phone to wrap your arms around james.

he held you gently, kissing you again. "anything wrong?" he whispered. you shook your head. it was nothing important. he nodded, giving you a little time to collect your thoughts.

"angel." he said, "there's something here you may want to see."

you looked up, saw your boyfriends holding a birthday cake for you. it was beautiful, covered in silver colored candles. remus held the cake for you to see better as you sat up, the candles were definitely sirius's choice. you forgot about the texts, seeing them smile at you like you were the most precious thing in the whole world was making your head dizzy with affection.

you blew the candles, making a wish. james's fingers were drawing circles on your arm. you kissed your boyfriends thank you, a slow but happy tear rolled on your cheek. "come on, sweetheart, there's nothing to cry about. you're still young." sirius said, winking. his lips were curved into a playful smile.

"let's eat the cake." you said. "god, it looks so good."

"you remember remus's friend who owns a bakery? we got the cake from his shop." james said.

"who, charles?" you asked, remembering details about charles for a second. "i always see the cakes he makes on instagram, he's really good."

"first slice for the birthday girl." remus said, giving you your cake. "happy birthday, sweetheart. we love you so much."

"i love you so much." you said before taking a bite. "it's delicious. thank you."

sirius ate his own slice in three seconds. "this is better than i expected. another slice, please moony."

you kissed his chocolate covered lips fondly. hours were spent on eating cake, gossipping about sirius's workplace, drinking tea, and changing into different cuddling positions. your phone was silent, no one called. there were no other texts. it's weird, you thought. even the people who celebrated their birthdays with you didn't bother to give you a small text.

the day is almost finished, you are full with cake and sweets. james insists on doubling up the princess treatment he gives you every day and helps you with your skincare. you are sitting on bed as his fingers apply your night cream on your achy cheeks, sirius and remus brush their teeth at the bathroom after you and james leave for bed. your hand reaches to your phone. nothing.

"i think," james starts. "it's time you should tell me what's been on your mind all day."

you shrug. what can you tell? expecting birthday wishes from people feels weird. maybe they forgot. maybe they didn't care enough. should you remind them it's your birthday? no, that's stupid. is it? you don't know.

"what's upsetting my baby on her birthday?" he says. "tell me."

"there's something upsetting our baby?" sirius steps in after remus. "what happened?"

you give them a smile that says you're okay. "nothing." you start. remus's eyes find yours, worry sparks in them. "it's just- the girls and my friends from work- some of them forgot about my birthday, and other messages were a bit weird."

"i'm sorry." remus says, holding your hand. "i'm really sorry about that, angel."

"it's okay." you say. "i mean, no one has to remember."

"um, yeah, they kinda have to at some point." sirius says. "you do your best to remember things about your friends and you have every right to expect the same from them."

"i know." you say. you know, but what can you do?

james leans in to kiss your cheek. "i know it's terrible. you don't deserve it. i think- it's not your fault, yeah? you didn't do anything wrong. you deserve the best."

he says the last part silently like he's sad and it breaks your heart. they tried to make your day perfect, they don't deserve to end it sad. you don't deserve to sleep upset on your birthday. you look into james's eyes. "i already have the best." you say. "have you seen our boyfriends?"

you are being sweet on him. "have you seen yourself?" you say, pulling his face to kiss him. he smiles into the kiss. "i'm okay, really." you say.

"of course you are." sirius says. "in what world the birthday girl goes to bed upset?"

remus brushes a kiss on sirius's curls. they are lovely, sitting up in bed to comfort you the best they can. you need a bit time, you think. it's a hard thing to carry, feeling like you are not loved by some people you care about. it's not fair to the boys though. you are so incredibly loved by them and you feel it in your every breath. you can think about the others later. for now, you only need to show your love to your boys. the three people who deserve it the most.

647 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 4 months ago

Text

Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question.

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted.

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week.

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation.

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.”

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that.

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand.

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation.

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows.

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm.

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face.

“Nope,” you shrugged.

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest.

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought.

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again.

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after.

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience.

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.”

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again.

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro.

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before.

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control.

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up.

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight.

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response.

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible.

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned.

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone.

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen.

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone.

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off.

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.”

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut.

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position.

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand.

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head.

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?”

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head.

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him.

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked.

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips.

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question.

It’s him. You thought.

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target.

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him.

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself.

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him.

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him.

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you.

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you.

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail.

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms.

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down.

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag.

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home.

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares.

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head.

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions.

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation.

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be.

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally.

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?”

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him.

“Happy now?” Price asked.

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work?

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!”

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost.

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered.

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face.

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you.

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you.

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.”

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava.

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged.

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything.

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.”

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions.

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate.

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.”

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer.

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black.

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you.

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back.

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched.

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes.

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in.

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground.

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..”

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly.

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch.

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly.

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke.

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away.

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.”

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you.

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system.

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.”

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions.

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth.

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out.

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath. “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

340 notes · View notes

dumpywrites · 2 months ago

Text

Test Drive - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “How does one incite a first kiss?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, friends with benefits? but they only kiss

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: The idea of friends figuring out their feelings for each other is always so cute to me idk why >_<

Yoongi and you used to date once… back in high school. That happened due to peer pressure and the fear of missing out from not getting a prom date like everyone else. In fact, neither one of you had ever said anything about your feelings to each other, just a mere “do you think it’d be cool if we just date?” uttered by your friend on a random Thursday after school. It didn’t last that long as you agreed that friendship just made a lot more sense than relationship to you both.

Fast forward to just a few years later, you were now a fully functional adult, at least that was what you’d like to think. The high school quote on quote friendship gang that you used to have, was now slowly divided by work. All of you were occupied by your own schedules, projects, side jobs, or simply, just adulting stuff. You were just glad you had a friend like Jimin who would take his time to organize random hangouts now and then, just for the sake of it.

And so after not meeting for around two full months, all of your schedules finally lined up. It also happened to be the first time in forever that Jin introduced someone new to your group, a girlfriend.

“Honestly, I thought you’d die alone.” Taehyung said nonchalantly.

“Just because you were voted most handsome student that one time in college, doesn’t mean you get to say shit like this…” Jin said, clearly annoyed, which only resulted in laughter from everyone.

“You’re just butthurt you weren’t the one who won.” Taehyung smirked and took a sip of his cola.

“Cut it off guys, you’re scaring poor Wendy here.” You said, smiling at the girl sitting next to Jin. “Don’t worry, we’re not always like this.”

“She has to get used to it one way or another, she’s dating the most annoying one in our group after all!” Jimin said while snickering.

“I swear I’m going to murder you all…” Jin groaned. The girlfriend next to him only giggled.

“Man, I wish I wasn’t so single.” Nayeon puffed her cheeks and sighed. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon too.”

You nodded. “Relatable.”

“Aren’t you and Yoongi used to date though?” Jimin suddenly said.

The guy who was only quietly sipping his coffee, suddenly straightened his posture. “I heard my name mentioned.” Yoongi said.

“Oh my god… it was just silly thing we did to have a prom date!” You whined. “Right, Yoongi?” You looked at the guy, searching for validation. You earned a shrug from him.

“I wanna know the details!” Wendy suddenly said with excitement.

“We were both dumb and had never dated anyone before. It was more of a play date kind of thing.” You replied, looking at Yoongi again in hope that he would back you up.

“I was the one who suggested it, the fomo was getting to me seeing Taehyung date left and right. Look at how that turned out for him though…” Yoongi simply said. The mentioned guy could be heard protesting in the background.

“I always wonder,” Nayeon tapped her chin in a comical way. “Did y’all ever kiss or something?”

“Eww, never!!!” You cringed, while the others laughed. “We dated for two weeks in total because just holding hands made us gag.”

“Not gonna lie, I could picture it. The two of you would look cute.” Wendy commented with a playful smile.

“Lord… trust me, we don’t.” You shook your head at her.

“Hey, Yoongs!” Jimin called. “When was even the last time you went on a date?!”

“Contrary to popular believe I actually go on dates, excuse you.” The guy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I hardly believe that. We don’t need to count Y/N here, okay???” Jimin chuckled.

And that was how Yoongi became grumpy the entire ride back home. He gave you a ride because your house was in the same direction and you were just too lazy to deal with the busy street on a Saturday night. The moment you stepped inside the car, the guy was already complaining. With some time to kill, you decided to stop at a drive thru for some ice cream and chit-chats.

“They really need to mind their own business.” Yoongi said, still vexed.

“I’m sure they were just joking.”

“Do I really look like a loser?!”

“You don’t.” You quickly replied.

He sighed. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s been a while and I suddenly feel self conscious.”

“Aww, Yoongi…” You cooed. “Is there someone in mind though?”

“Not really.” He said with a straight face.

“What’s it like anyway? Your ideal type and all…” You turned your body to face his side, lifting your feet a little bit.

“Uh… I guess I like someone who has no filter and just chill.”

“What about appearance?”

“You sound oddly excited.” He side eyed you.

“I’m just curious! Plus you never really talked to me about this and we’ve been friends for years.”

“Hmm… let me think.” He tapped his thigh, wondering. “Nah, I think I couldn’t care less.”

“I find it hard to believe that…” You squinted your eyes. “Men are visual beings.”

“Do not generalize!” He eyed you again.

“Is it someone like Minjoo? Cause I remembered her being very pretty.” You didn’t know why you were whispering.

“That was such a long time ago.” He shook his head.

“Hey, I heard that apparently your first relationship supposedly shapes your ideal type.” You shrugged.

“So it’s you then.”

Your eyes widened. He really had to say it with the blankest looking expression. The honesty of this man really blew your mind sometimes.

“Oh, shut up! That doesn’t count!!!” You protested.

He only chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing.

“Is Minjoo your first kiss?” You whispered again, wiggling your eyebrows.

“This topic has clearly shifted from wanting to help me out to full blown interrogation.” He folded his arms and closed his eyelids. “No, she was not.”

You dramatically gasped. “The drama!”

“I think my first kiss was in uni and neither of us were sober at that time so it doesn’t really matter.” He scoffed.

“Damn, I was gonna ask how’s your first kiss like, only for you to say that. I’m sorry, I guess.” You sighed with a teasing smile on your face.

“What’s yours like?” He asked.

“It was sweet actually.” You smiled as you reminisced through the memory. “Both of us were really shy and I think we kissed under a tree. It was some real k-drama shit.” You laughed. “It’s kinda embarrassing now that I think of it…”

“Must be nice.” He nodded a few times. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t even know if I’m a good kisser.”

You raised your hand and high-fived him. “Surely that’s not something we should be proud of.” You giggled. “Like, how does one incite a first kiss? Hell, how does one incite a kiss in general???”

“I’m pretty sure you just go for it, don’t need to think much.” He laughed. “Worst case scenario you get rejected.”

“This conversation started with me wanting to help you with your insecurities to then giving me an insecurity! Now I’m worried about my kissing skill!!!” You whined.

“You think you might be rusty? If you’re rusty, then what am I?!” He grinned.

“Should we just practice kissing?”

The car suddenly went silent. It was no help that the radio volume was playing at almost the lowest volume. The sentence just flashed through your mind and you let it out without thinking of it twice. In your head, it would be way weirder to ask someone random or even someone you romantically interested in to indulge in the idea. He was your friend, a very close one too. He was in fact, just Yoongi. It should not be weird, right?

Yoongi’s lips turned into a big O shape. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“I mean, in what other situation can you just ask a person to practice kiss with you. Any other situation would be too embarrassing. We’re just friends that want to test something out!”

“You sure it wouldn’t be weird?” Yoongi raised one of his eyebrows.

“I think so?” You looked at him skeptically.

“No take-backs.” He warned you.

“Roger that.” You nodded. “Do we just… uh, how do we???”

Instead of replying, he just softly brought you closer. The space in between the car seat was making it a bit tricky, but his hand smoothly pulled you by the back of your neck. And your lips met, just like that. Both of you let it linger for a few seconds, before you felt his lips moving, so automatically, your response was to mimic his movement.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” He said between the kiss.

“Oh, you’re giving directions now?”

You pulled back, smirking at him before leaning back in. You did as told and soon found both of your tongue dancing, intertwining with each other. You couldn’t help but to giggle every now and then, breaking the kiss as you did, but each time Yoongi would reach for your lips back on his. You could feel him smiling through it, maybe he wanted to giggle along with you too.

After what felt like forever, you both pulled away, mostly due to the awkward angle making your back ache a little bit.

“That was… something.” You chuckled, fingertips holding your lips as you still couldn’t believe what happened.

“That was not so bad…” He breathed out and grinned.

“I think so too.” You giggled. “It’s just kinda funny though, I’m sorry I kept laughing.”

“It’s okay, it’s kinda cute to be honest.”

Sometimes you hated how frank your friend could be, because this was the kind of stuff he just blurted out without thinking, and it was messing with your head.

“So… what do we do with this information?” You looked at him, feeling your face flushed.

“Nothing, I suppose.”

It was just a week after when you receive a text from Yoongi, asking if by any chance you were free after work. You were not sure what he wanted to say that was so important to the point that he had to tell in person immediately. You soon found out why.

“I have a date tonight.”

He said, standing right in front of your door that you just closed right after welcoming him in. It was raining and the black hoodie he was wearing was slightly damped after running from the parking lot, adding to the dramatic effect. It looked like he was shivering ever so slightly, you just had the tiniest urge to hug him to make sure he was warm.

“Huh?” You gaped. “With who??? I didn’t know you were close with someone?!“

“I downloaded bumble a few days ago. It was Taehyung’s idea.” He cut your question short.

You folded your arms, wanting to tease him but no words came up. You couldn’t exactly pin point as to why you felt almost disappointed upon hearing the news. “Congrats? You could just call me or text me.”

“What if I kiss her at the end of the date?”

Your eyes widened as you started to get some ideas. Or you could just be one hell of a pervert if that was not the case.

“I need your feedback… and consent.” For the first time in a while, you saw nervousness in Yoongi’s face. He kept fiddling with the ring he had in his middle finger. He cleared his throat before popping a question slash offer to you.

“Can we practice again just for a bit?”

In short, Yoongi ended up ditching the date and spent the whole night making out with you on the couch. He never asked or mentioned anything about the alleged date afterwards, just silently watched the tv you had on as you leaned on his shoulder.

The first time was odd, but it was odd in a cute and endearing way. But the second one was intense. If you were giggling mid kissing before, this time you were holding down your voice, trying to not make any weird noise. When he bit your lower lip, did he remember the fact that both of you were just friends?

At this point you were both experts in kissing. At least in your case that was what you would like to believe. It had been going on for weeks and it was turning into a habit that you found yourself guilty on too. It was just too easy to keep coming back to him, asking the silly question. It appeared to be the same for him as well. He never refused. Kept coming back to you as well.

None of you ever addressed anything, not that you thought it would matter anyway. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy this, because clearly, you were addicted at this point. You just could not bring yourself to stop. Any chance you get to be alone with him, your lips would find each other almost as instantly. It would always just end like that though, a kiss, a make out sesh. Never more, never less.

With Christmas just around the corner your friends were starting to plan getaways, dinners, parties, and other possible options. You? You were just thinking of how to sneak and shower Yoongi with smooches. It was getting unhealthy and you were completely aware, but oh well.

Came twenty fourth of December. It was snowing and surroundings were looking festive. With everyone having days off from work, it was decided that renting a cabin and spending the night there sounded perfect to all of you.

Wendy and you were in charge of the Christmas tree, while Jin and Taehyung being the taller ones in the group, were assigned for decorations that acquired more height. Yoongi could be seen trying to set up the fireplace, as Jimin and Nayeon set up the food and snacks.

“Done!” Wendy clapped her hands happily as both of you finished the tree with a star on top.

“We should take a picture together with the tree!” Nayeon exclaimed.

All of you started to scoot, preparing your poses as Nayeon grabbed her phone and put it on a table after setting the camera timer. When she ran back to quickly join the rest of you, you suddenly felt Yoongi’s arm coming from your back, pulling you closer to him. A big grin was plastered on his face. Normally, you wouldn’t bat an eye to that, you had been friends for years and years. So you weren’t so sure why it made you malfunction for a second when you felt his fingertips brushing your shoulder. Thankfully, you had enough time to look up back at the camera to make an appropriate expression.

Two board games and one boring christmas movie later, most of you were sleepy, if not a little bit tipsy. Taehyung started taking sips of Jimin’s coffee he found in the fridge, that was when you knew that man was drunk. While Jin and Wendy had already head upstairs to their room, Nayeon and Jimin were sitting on the carpet while you and Yoongi on the couch, with this weird gap between the two of you.

“I heard the bumble dates went well.” Taehyung said, as he occupied the empty space between you and Yoongi.

Your head immediately jerked to your left side, looking at both Yoongi and Tae. Didn’t he ditch the date? “Oh, you actually went to the date?”

Yoongi looked at you, with yet again another unreadable expression. He was about to open his mouth but the other guy beat him to it.

“Did he show you her photos? The girl looks hot!” Taehyung exclaimed eagerly.

“Our Yoong-yoong finally went on a date?” Jimin looked up with a curious smile.

“Oooh, spill the tea!” Nayeon joined.

“It was only one date.”

You froze. So he did go to the date and he never told you a single thing. You were not sure how to feel or how to react regarding the news, but you felt betrayed.

“She’s not a catfish or anything, right?” Taehyung asked, scooting closer to Yoongi.

“She’s not.”

“Nice.” Taehyung nudged the man. “Are y’all going on another date or something?”

“I don’t think—“

“You better be!” Tae cut the guy short again. “Come on, you need this. You need to at least get laid.” He laughed.

“Hey, maybe let’s not pressure the guy like that…” Nayeon said to Taehyung.

“Let’s just celebrate the fact that Yoongi just went on a date.” Jimin chuckled.

You tried your best to not look like the conversation bothered you in any way. “Told you, you have nothing to worry about.” You said to him with a smile.

Yoongi was only silent and soon the topic changed.

The next morning you woke up very early, but most likely due to the fact that you could barely catch any snooze. You decided to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the front porch, enjoying the cold morning air and the falling pieces of snow.

You started getting teary. You could be still sleepy, maybe it could also be the hormones acting up. It’s about time of your PMS, judging by the date, but you were not certain. What made you so upset about? You should be thrilled that your friend who you wanted so badly to get his confidence back, finally went on an actual date.

Not even seconds later that your mind started to wander at a possibility of him kissing another person, then you started tearing up again.

Sooner or later you needed to accept the cold hard truth. Jealousy was a knife.

“Isn’t it cold out there?”

You looked back, surprised to see Yoongi closing the front door behind. He took off his gloves and placed it on your lap.

“It’s fine, the tea is warm.” You reasoned.

“I don’t feel that cold.” He said, taking the seat next to you. “Why are you up so early?”

“Could ask the same to you.” You said after putting on the gloves. It was slightly bigger and your heart raced at the thought.

“Can’t sleep.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “You?”

“Same.” You realized you hadn’t looked him in his direction the whole time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You were taken aback by the sentence, but still chose to look straight at the scenery in front of you. “About what?”

“The date.” He sighed. “Actually, I only went because I felt bad that we already agreed on a time and place but I cancelled on her in such short notice before. She actually turned out to be really nice and we hung out for a bit…”

You felt sick listening to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, instead you just nodded along.

“She asked me for a second date but I refused.”

This time you looked at him. “Why? Didn’t you say that she turned out to be really nice?”

“That day after I took her home, we almost kissed… I backed away because out of nowhere I just saw your face.” He sighed, followed by a nervous chuckle. “She’s nice…” He looked away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “But she isn’t you.”

What?

“Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

“I don’t either, but I can’t bring myself to kiss anyone else other than you.” He looked at you with a genuine expression. “Can’t imagine you kissing anyone else either, it kills me.”

It had been the same case for you too.

“I actually feel the same way.” You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. “What does this mean for us now?”

He smiled, so wide that your heart melted seeing the sight. He took your right hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You felt your cheeks warmed up, and a giddy smile curved your lips. This definitely was different from how you felt back in the day.

“You good?” He asked with a big gummy grin.

“It doesn’t feel weird like how it was when we fake dated.” You giggled.

He smiled and held your cheek with his hand, while the other still holding yours. Midway through leaning in, he stopped and straightened his gaze at you.

“I like you, if that’s not clear by now.”

“I know.” You giggled, blushing.

He quirked his eyebrow. It seemed like he was not too pleased with you not saying the magic words back to him. He might need to kiss you first to earn it and that was the idea that Yoongi could definitely get behind.

Oh you could already imagine the chaos when your friends finally found out about this whole rollercoaster of a story.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga x reader #suga imagine #yoongi imagine #suga scenarios

291 notes · View notes

miel-ji · 2 years ago

Text

Wanted It Forever

Genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Seungmin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warning: argument, crying, depression

Summary: After a fight unresolved, you’re left to wonder if there is even a relationship anymore to salvage

A/N: based on this request!! I hope this is what you were looking for <33 love when I get asks!!

“Oh my god, Y/n! Please, how many times are we going to have to go through this?” Seungmin asked you with wide eyes, his hands running through his hair for the nth time that night making it look wild and unruly.

“Until you prioritize me for once in your life!” You shouted back at him. Your voice was strained, and it came out sounding more like a plea, desperate to get him to understand how you felt.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been fighting for, but it felt like hours of just going in circles. You weren’t even sure what exactly started it, but the second you got to the root of the problem, everything seemed to unravel from trying to pretend that it was all fine for so long. You were in a standoff in the middle of the kitchen with him on one side of the island and you on the other, creating the distance that you had been starting to feel inside. You had tried to be patient with Seungmin, but it felt like the more you ignored it, the more he stopped even trying.

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, “why are you being so needy and unreasonable? You know that I’m an idol. You know that I have a lot of responsibilities. I try to give you as much attention as I can. Why isn’t that enough for you?” Seungmin was always trying to maintain an even tone during an argument, but you could tell this one was wearing the both of you thin. It scared you a bit as the thought of this being the final argument played in the back of your mind.

You scoffed disbelievingly at his words. You had no time to feel hurt by his accusations as you only felt anger simmering inside you from him not willing to see it from your perspective. “Needy? Unreasonable? Seungmin, you really think this is all about attention? This is the third time you’ve stood me up on a date. We haven’t properly gone out as a couple in over a month!”

“You think I want to? I’m busy, Y/n! I thought you knew what you were getting into when we started dating.” He threw his hands up in frustration as he offered you the same excuse as he always did.

“The Seungmin I started dating actually made me feel like his girlfriend! You put me on the backburner for everything these days, not just work. Am I so wrong for wanting to feel important to you?” All of your emotions were starting to bubble over, and you could feel the hot tears welling in your eyes. You swallowed thickly and clenched your fist, trying to stay in control.

Seungmin leaned back against the cabinets with his arms folded. He was silent for a moment with your collective breathing being the only sound in the room. His head was bowed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “You are important to me, Y/n.” He said, stressing each word firmly before looking at you again. “I don’t know what else you want me to do. I can’t just ignore my career for you.”

You dragged both hands down your face, “You’re not listening to me!”

“I am listening to you, but you’re not being fair!” he volleyed back defensively.

You laughed sardonically as you took in the absurdity of looping back through another circle. “I can’t do this anymore,” you rubbed your temples as you started to pace.

“Do what? This relationship?” Seungmin asked you bitterly. You froze in your spot, and the tension in the room was palpable. Were you both really calling your relationship into question? Had it really gotten that far?

Your heart was quickening in pace at the thought, and it was getting harder to breathe. You were trembling from all the pent up emotion, and you tried to take a deep breath before facing Seungmin again. He was watching you closely with his eyebrows furrowed, and the hurt you saw reflected in his eyes made your anger slightly recede. “No, Seungmin,” you started defeatedly, with your shoulders slumping. “I just need a break.”

“A break,” Seungmin repeated before it was his turn to laugh sardonically and shake his head. “You know what, fine. I’ll go.” He grumbled as he grabbed his keys with urgency and stalked over to the doorway.

You just watched as he quickly slipped on his shoes and paused as he reached for the door handle. He tilted his head up, and you could see his eyes were glossy as his bangs fell away from his face. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart as you clearly saw how torn up he looked in that moment, seconds from breaking down like you. You wanted to reach out to him, but you couldn’t say anything as he took a deep breath and walked through the door.

The air was stiff with finality as the sound of him harshly closing your door reverberated off the walls. As soon as he was gone, you crumpled to the floor and hugged your knees to your chest, and you purged yourself of the tears and frustration. Sobs wracked your body as you thought back on everything that had just happened, and how much it hurt you that Seungmin couldn’t just tell you what you needed to hear. You just needed to know that your relationship was worth making time for to him, but he did little to reassure you.

The feeling of Seungmin’s absence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t do anything to ease the sense of dread from the thought of losing him. You felt as weak as a puddle on the floor as you cried until you could only hiccup, and your head was pounding. You mustered up the strength you could to get yourself up only to bury yourself under the covers in your bed to block out the rest of the world. Not even sleep offered you comfort as your dreams were plagued with memories shared with Seungmin.

~~~

Seungmin and you were alike in so many ways that he made you believe in twin flames and soulmates. You both have the same way of thinking, you both reach the same conclusions, and overall you both just have the same perspective. You understood each other on a level that you had never felt understood with anyone else, but it also meant you shared the same flaws. Right now, you were worried that being such mirrored souls would be what caused the end of your relationship.

You were both stubborn and hated admitting when you were wrong, so making up after a fight was always another struggle until eventually you both caved in. This fight had been different though. When you and Seungmin had parted ways, you weren’t even sure if there was still a relationship to be mended. You were hesitant to reach out as you replayed the argument in your head, but the moment that stuck with you the most was the look in Seungmin’s eyes before he walked out, making you doubt if he even wanted you to reach out. So you waited, and when a week went by without communication, you were feeling like you had your answer.

You had just been going through the motions of life ever since then, and if you did feel something other than miserable, it was just numb. With each day that passed that your and Seungmin’s relationship was still in the air, you felt that hope slipping further and further away from you that it was just another bump in the road. You had been with him for over a year, and you couldn’t just forget the plans and promises you made together. For the first time, you had wanted it forever.

Some of the members had guessed that something was wrong between you and Seungmin with how long he was staying at the dorm and tried to check up on you, but you didn’t have the energy. You were just tired, and everyday you came home and crawled right back into bed, hoping to finally get some proper rest. However, your heart didn’t agree with your head as it couldn’t stop waiting for Seungmin until your eyes welled with tears and spilled down your cheeks. That’s where you were when you heard another knock on your door, and you groaned as you dragged yourself out of bed. Assuming it was one of the members again, you quickly tried your best to make yourself look presentable.

You took a deep breath to open the door, only to have it stolen by who greeted you on the other side. “Seungmin?” You asked tentatively, your voice barely a whisper, almost afraid that he was just a mirage curated to console your heart ache.

“Bubs,” he said, voice just as delicate and wavering slightly. The pet name made you feel a pang of sadness in your chest, but also a sense of relief in the same moment. He took a shaky breath, “can we… can we talk?” He looked up through his bangs with wide, pleading eyes and a tilt of his head that made him look like a wounded puppy.

All you could do was nod and step aside to let him in, still trying to process he was here, and you felt a sliver of hope for the first time since he walked out. You softly closed the door and took a second to gather your courage as you turned to face him. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to continue, but you could tell that he was nervous from his hands fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. When his eyes met yours again, they looked tired and sad.

He looked as afflicted as you felt inside, and you wondered if he’s been going through the same struggle as you had this week. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he started, shoulders slumping as he looked deflated. “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, and I’m sorry for not listening to you.” His eyebrows were furrowed and lips parted as he collected himself to continue. “But I meant it when I said you were important to me, and if you forgive me…” He took a cautious step towards you and gently took your hand in his, “I’ll do everything that I can to prove that to you. I love you, Y/n. Please forgive me?” His voice slightly cracked as he asked you the question, looking up at you with tears welling in his eyes.

“I love you too,” you said softly, looking back at him with round, vulnerable eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up a little in a small smile, and your heart picked up pace with how much you’ve missed him. “I want to make this work with you.”

At your words, he pulled you into a tight embrace, and your body fit perfectly against his as he wrapped his arms securely around you. He cradled your head softly with his fingers tangling in your hair, and you buried yourself in his neck, letting his comforting scent wash over you. He let out a shaky breath, and you felt his body shiver against you as he laughed in relief, “I want to make this work too, more than anything. I can’t lose you, bubs.” His voice was still raspy with emotion.

You pulled back to gaze into his eyes again, seeing nothing but love filling in the deep dark depths of them. You cupped the sides of his face with both hands, “never.” You reassured him before leaning in to give him a sweet, tender kiss on his soft lips, conveying all the love and longing you have felt. It was balm for your soul as you felt him kiss you back, warm hands gripping your waist with a familiarity that you craved. You finally felt peace in his arms, knowing this wasn’t the fight that ended everything, but the one that would make everything stronger in the end.

2K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago

Note

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

787 notes · View notes

speaknow-sw · 6 months ago

Text

𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓐𝒇𝒇𝓪𝓲𝓻

HEADCANONS FORM! Summary : in which you move in your new house in front of a very hot, very dad and very married man. But Anakin Skywalker is a gentle and caring neighbor. Gardenias appear in your garden and you befriended his wife. Soon enough you fit in this neighborhood though a little crush linger…

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, dad! Anakin Skywalker, older married man, reader is 25 and Anakin’s 33, mentions of vaginal fingering, pining, cheating ?

AN : GUYS FIRST WORK !!! Okay actually very stressed to post this but I’m sure you’ll be indulgent. Please ? It’s just a part 1 tho idk when I’ll post part 2. Again I’m not fluent in English but please feel free to correct any error. The real stuff happens in part 2 cuz it’s just a plot installation. Hope y’all like my silly little idea.

You and Anakin met when you moved across the street. As a gentleman, he welcomed you and helped with all your boxes. One look and you both knew you were spiraling down an unforgivable path.

« Excuse me Miss. Do you need help ? » Anakin asked gently.

« Oh yes, thank you so much » you replied, blushing.

« Just moved in ? It’s a nice neighborhood. The name’s Anakin Skywalker. I live just across the street. » he pointed the white house with blue shutters in front of yours.

« Well, yes I’m moving in. I hope we’ll become good neighbors. » you smiled brightly.

« Don’t doubt it. You seem a lot nicer than old Palps who lived here before you, » he laughed placing a boxes on your counter. « He died of cardiac arrest in his daughter’s house. But around here we say he died strangled in his bitterness. » he joked.

« Seems like a lovely man. » you chuckled.

When he finished helping you he invited you over at his house where you met his lovely…wife, Padmé. As you talked with them a pair of toddlers ran down the stairs. Anakin presented them as Luke and Leia his kids. Adorable, you thought.

After that first day you crossed Anakin path a numerous time. Every morning you would leave for work around the same time giving each other a light « Hello » and a meaningful gaz, like electricity sparkling between you.

After some months like this, you strangely begun to see gardenias appearing in the back of your garden.

Sundays barbecue were a common gathering for your neighborhood. Mr. Kenobi, the barbecue king for the five previous years hosting every one of them. Him and his wife Satine were the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Like a good neighbor you attented every barbecues and gained a little group of friends consisting of Padmé, Satine and Breha Organa, the mayor wife’s.

You couldn’t help but stare at Anakin back as he was talking with the other dads. His broad shoulders draped in an olive t-shirt and his nice butt constricted in a cream pant. Ovulation cravings were getting out of hands. God…this man sense of fashion could kill you on the spot with how effortlessly handsome he was. A married man, older than you, with kids…but so sweet and manly… Only when you turned to help Breha you missed Anakin gazing at you from afar.

Soon enough, Satine ran out of sodas for the kids. The Skywalker twins, Elledi and Fiari Organa, Cal Kenobi and many more kids were running in the gardens like crazy little gremlins. Tired of hearing their little voices complaining about having a glass of Fanta you took the matter in your hands and said you could go to the store. Suddenly a voice echoed.

« I got packs of Fanta in the closet at home. » proposed softly Anakin.

« Wonderful, my dear why won’t you accompany Anakin in his house to retrieve the sodas instead of taking the car ? » said a cheerful Satine.

« Oh…hm…yes, yes I can do that… » you stuttered a bit shy.

« You’re coming ? » Anakin called, his keys tingling gently in his right hand.

Your gaze fixated on his veiny hands and his long fingers. Your mind went wild with how good his fingers would be buried inside your clenching pussy. Maybe they could even reach that little area deep into you where you see stars. Your arousal grew and soon you felt your cunt being wetter than ten minutes ago. Fantasizing about him as you walked behind him silently, you didn’t saw he stopped in front of you and crashed against his back.

« Hey, hey, hey, I gotcha. » you heard before feeling strong arms wrapping against your stumbling form. You blinked at him shocked by the whole situation directly from a bad Christmas rom-com.

« You okay, kid ? » asked Anakin his beautiful face ruined by a frown.

« Uh…yeah, m’great thanks to you… » you muttered as you felt heat crawling on your cheeks.

« Alright, here, the sodas are in this closet. » he pointed an open door under his stairs. You nodded looking right in his eyes as your breath hitched. Your gaze lowered at your joined chest as your breasts were pressed against his muscular pecs with how tight he was holding you. You felt his breath on your forehead and raised your head to look at him not without checking his lips. His hold on you tightened slightly and you flushed.

You darted your eyes around the house unable to held the eye contact and as you wandered through the furniture of the closet your eyes widened.

On the shelf beside a toolbox was placed a white gardenia similar at the ones which appeared on your gardens…

To be continued….

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #evie writes #james kelly #sam monroe #clay beresford #scott barringer #padme amidala #star wars #affair #illicit affairs

265 notes · View notes

holdinbacksecrets · 7 months ago

Note

svt finds out you were married before you met them

anon… this request is golden. thank you so much for sending it! i had the best time writing these 🤍

seventeen find out you were married before being with them

seungcheol: he’s at the bodega around the corner because you’re out of… he forgot the excuse. luckily, it was mumbled and difficult to make out, so he’ll bring back coffee. his palms are sweating and he looks up at the ceiling as if the answer’s in between the popcorn. now, you’re his. he’s yours. you’re one. but you were someone else’s, and that idea isn’t new to him, but knowing that someone was your husband makes it feel different. he looks up again. “please give me something here.” a light flickers. he leaves without the coffee

jeonghan: he stops to watch you spoon strawberry jam onto slices of toast. they’re golden brown triangles beside scrambled eggs, and you’re making sure the bright red covers the golden brown surface perfectly, just like you always do. the only red he can think about is the blood his heart is pumping, and the fact that his heart stopped pumping for a moment or two

joshua: “now everything makes sense.” “what do you mean?” “sometimes you’re just too good at being my partner.” “that has nothing to do with being married before. i’m literally just in love and obsessed with you. actually, being married did make me strict about the dishes. i’ll never go to bed with a pile in the sink.” “baby, you won’t go to bed if there’s a spoon in the sink or a crumb on the countertop.” “and how good does it feel to wake up and see a clean kitchen, hmm?”

jun: he’s confused. he’s wearing it, swallowing it, holding it in his gaze, and suddenly wondering how well he knows you— why it took you so long to tell him

soonyoung: “i knew it was a mistake by the next morning. i woke up craving my mom’s pancakes.” “have her send us the recipe.” you squeeze his hand and bow your head so your lips can brush its palm. “don’t worry, history won’t repeat itself.”

wonwoo: the photo album’s on his lap. it feels like a fever dream to look at you. you watch the sky through the window, craving color after too much black and white. “i’m mad at myself.” “why?” “i should’ve waited for you.”

jihoon: the ring came rolling out of its hiding spot and stopped in the middle of your bedroom floor. the sunlight caught it. he blinked a million times, felt his lips part too. you let it be. you exhaled, feeling relieved to part with the secret. finally

seokmin: “look at me. do i look upset?” “no… you eyes are all shiny” like he might cry. “it means a lot that you told me.” “i shouldn’t have waited so long.” “you really didn’t wait that long.” “are you sure you’re ok? do you… am i…” “yes.”

mingyu: the words come out on a sunday morning in the park near your place. your head’s on his shoulder. his hand’s on your thigh; it’s warm and the slightest bit rough—different from the cool, soft breeze on your cheek, on the back of your neck. he asks about your happiness and when it left the space you created with your ex. he wants to know what he can do to make sure that never happens again. he wants to make sure he’s not missing anything

minghao: he’s watching you. there’s gentle love in his eyes. he’s hoping you’ll look up and away from the sudsy dishes for just a moment long enough to realize he’s not mad. to realize it doesn’t change anything

seungkwan: he wonders about your wedding dress and if you still have it. he wonders about pictures and videos and the expression on your face at the altar. moments he’s dreamed about are already existing in memories, have already been seen by your loved ones, might be sour in your head. would you do it all again? do you even want to?

vernon: “i can’t help but wonder how many people make the same mistake as me… think something’s love when it’s not.” “do you really think of it as a mistake?” “pretty sure that’s just a fact.” “i’m not so sure… aren’t you the same person who’s told me for years that everything happens for a reason?” “maybe i just tell myself that to lessen the blow.” “possibly, but maybe it’s true. maybe that step that you think was in the wrong direction was crucial. i wouldn’t have found you any other way.”

chan: “i feel like i shouldn’t be looking at this… it’s like i’m seeing your dress before i’m supposed to. i shouldn’t know what you’ll look like walking down the aisle.” “this isn’t who i am anymore. think of how much time has passed. i have brand new skin now.” “…i thought you were going to say something romantic.”

188 notes · View notes

grifffins · 6 days ago

Text

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 2

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: Y/N makes a questionable purchase, endures an evening of coven induced chaos, and shares an unexpectedly nice breakfast.

wc: 8.5k (Chapter 2/?)

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this chap, but ngl i have way too much fun writing the coven, I’m sorry. The first half of this chapter is definitely coven heavy (because they’re chaotic and I love them), but don’t worry, towards the end is all about Lilia. again this one’s super dialogue heavy, which i'm not used to but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any of it without hating myself. Just a quick heads-up, there’s no smut yet, but this chapter does lean into some more mature themes

Ch. 1 ch.3

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A week had passed since the Great Flirting Incident, and while Lilia hadn’t exactly acknowledged anything outright, I could tell something had shifted. She was watching me more closely now, little glances when she thought I wasn’t looking, the occasional pause before she called me baby like she was testing the waters. But she hadn’t made a move, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure she ever would.

So, naturally, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It started with a simple realisation: Lilia Calderu was a woman stuck in another century. She still used a landline, still read newspapers, and still had absolutely no concept of modern convenience. I mean, she handwrites every single appointment into an actual paper planner. Who even does that anymore?

At first, it was just a passing thought, how much easier things would be for her if she had a smartphone. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect excuse to do something nice for her. Something that wasn’t just flirting but actually, you know, helpful.

Which is why I found myself standing in the phone store, staring at a sleek smartphone display, wondering if I was about to change her life or ruin mine.

By the following morning, Lilia was perched at the counter, lazily shuffling her tarot cards with that effortless grace that made my heart do embarrassing things. She glanced up as the door jingled, eyes flicking to the small shopping bag in my hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a delicate brow.

I placed the bag on the counter with a triumphant grin. “It’s about time you stepped into this decade, Calderu.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “Y/n, I don’t need —”

“You do,” I interrupted, pulling out the sleek black smartphone. “This? This is a miracle. You can set appointments, track orders, and get this, stop living in the dark ages.”

Lilia stared at the device like it might bite her. “I like my dark ages.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, humour me. Think of it as an investment. For the shop.”

She exhaled dramatically but took the phone, turning it over in her hands with a look of mild disdain. “It’s so... modern. ”

“That’s the point.” I grinned. “And, because I care about y—” I stumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. “—because I care about... efficiency, I already programmed it with your contacts and the shop’s schedule.”

Lilia smirked, clearly enjoying my mortification. “Very thorough, baby.”

I flushed. “Just... try it.”

She sighed but started poking at the screen, and I watched, fascinated, as her brows furrowed in concentration. “Hmph. It’s... responsive.”

“That’s what touchscreens do.”

“Fascinating.”

I grinned, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome.”

Later that night, I sat on Agatha’s couch, nursing a drink and dramatically recounting my victory to the coven.

“She took the phone,” I said, gesturing grandly. “She even said it was fascinating. This is huge.”

Jen raised a brow. “You bought her a phone?”

“Yeah.”

Alice leaned in. “Like... an actual smartphone? ”

“Yes.”

Agatha, sipping her wine, smirked. “y/n. Baby. Darling.”

“What?”

“You have to sext her.”

I choked on my drink. “ WHAT?! ”

Billy, perched on the armrest of the couch, grinned. “I second this.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You cannot waste this opportunity.”

Alice covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jen nodded sagely. “Listen, you’ve been pining after this woman for weeks. This is your moment.”

I gaped at them. “I bought her a phone so she could schedule tarot readings, not so I could send her—” I cut myself off, flushing furiously. “No. Not happening.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n.”

“No.”

“y/n.”

I groaned. “Guys, she doesn’t even like me like that.”

Billy scoffed. “She’s calling you baby every five minutes.”

“That’s just how she talks!”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me, if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t put up with your nonsense.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Jen patted my back. “Just... test the waters. Send something flirty. Nothing too intense.”

“Like what?” I mumbled into my hands.

Billy grinned. “Something like ‘Hey, Lilia. Thinking about you. And also that tarot reading you owe me.’ ”

“That’s not sexting?” I arched my brow.

Agatha shrugged. “Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Or you could, you know, just use the phone for its intended purpose.”

Agatha and Billy groaned in unison.

Jen smirked. “C’mon, y/n. You flirt with everyone else like it’s your day job. Why not just send a little something spicy?”

I shook my head furiously. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Then hand me your phone.”

I snatched it away, glaring. “I will murder you.”

“Fine, fine,” Agatha said, leaning back with a sigh. “But mark my words, y/n, you will crack. And when you do, I expect details.”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

This was going to be a disaster.

Another morning, another shift, I found myself watching Lilia as she tapped away at her new phone with a surprising amount of focus. She was getting the hang of it faster than I’d expected, which only made me more nervous.

“Enjoying it?” I asked casually, leaning on the counter.

She glanced up, lips quirking. “It’s... useful.”

I smirked. “Told you so.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re quite persistent, baby.”

I swallowed hard. Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

Lilia left not long after, saying something about running errands and warning me not to rearrange her “perfectly organised” bookshelves while she was gone. I rolled my eyes, but as soon as the bell above the door chimed, I let out a breath.

I was halfway through dusting the crystal ball display when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a message from one of the chaos gremlins I called friends, I pulled it out without thinking, only for my stomach to drop.

New message from Lilia Calderu:"This phone might be useful after all. You’ve made me quite... curious."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I could practically hear Agatha’s voice in my head.

You cannot waste this opportunity.

I didn’t respond to Lilia’s text. Not right away, at least. I told myself it was because I was busy, sorting inventory, helping customers, thinking about her like a lovesick idiot, but really, it was because I had no idea what to say.

"You’ve made me quite... curious."

What did that mean? Was she flirting? Was she just being her usual enigmatic self? Or was I reading too much into a perfectly innocent text from a woman who probably thought Wi-Fi was some kind of mystical energy?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and spent the rest of the day pretending it didn’t exist.

Later that night, I gathered the coven at my place, pacing my living room as I relayed the situation.

“So she texted that, and I didn’t reply,” I finished, waving my phone around like it was cursed. “I just left her on read. ”

Agatha groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “y/n. y/n. ”

Billy gasped. “You ghosted her?”

“It’s not ghosting if it’s only been a few hours!” I argued. “I needed... I needed time. ”

Jen stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “To do what, exactly?”

“Panic!” I exclaimed, throwing myself onto the couch. “You don’t understand! I can flirt with anyone, anyone, but it’s Lilia. She’s... Lilia. ”

Alice, sitting beside me, patted my knee with sympathy. “We know, y/n. But if you don’t reply soon, you’re going to look weird.”

Agatha sat forward, pointing at me with a knowing smirk. “You need to sext her.”

“No!” I practically shouted, scrambling to sit up. “We are not sexting!”

Billy grinned. “You cannot miss this opportunity.”

Jen crossed her arms. “y/n. Babe. If you don’t flirt back, she’s going to think you’re not interested.”

I groaned. “I am interested. I’m just not... ready to send the big guns. ”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll start small. What’s something flirty but not too flirty?”

Billy snapped his fingers. “Tell her you were thinking about her.”

I stared. “I’m not texting that.”

Alice suggested gently, “Maybe something like... ‘What exactly are you curious about?’”

Jen nodded approvingly. “Oh, that’s good. Leaves it open-ended.”

Agatha smirked. “And suggestive.”

I pointed at Alice. “I like that one. Safe. Respectable.”

Billy huffed. “Boring.”

I took a deep breath, typing it out slowly.

Me: What exactly are you curious about?

I stared at the screen, hovering over the send button. “Okay, I sent it. Wait, no, I can’t.” I threw my phone to Alice. “You send it.”

Alice sighed but hit send. “Done.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate this. This is awful. Why do people do this?”

Agatha snickered. “Because it’s fun.”

A moment later, my phone buzzed, and the entire group froze.

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, she replied already?”

I snatched my phone, heart pounding.

Lilia: You, mostly.

Silence.

Then chaos.

I just stared at the screen in pure, unadulterated panic. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

Agatha grinned like the devil herself. “You say... ‘Only mostly?’”

Alice nodded. “Yes. Play it cool.”

I nodded slowly, fingers trembling. “Okay... okay.” I typed the words, hesitated, then hit send.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Lilia: You do tend to take up a lot of space.

Billy fell to the floor. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

Agatha cackled. “It means you’re living in her head rent-free. Y/n, if you don’t escalate this, I will.”

I groaned, pacing the room again. “Okay. Okay. I need to flirt back. How do I flirt back without looking desperate?”

Jen smirked. “You are desperate.”

Alice offered, “Maybe... ‘I hope I’m not too much trouble.’”

Agatha groaned. “Boring. Say, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’”

“I’m not pushing it, Agatha.”

Billy grinned. “Coward.”

I sighed, typing Alice’s suggestion.

Me: I hope I’m not too much trouble.

Another buzz.

Lilia: Not yet.

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha raised her glass. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

The next morning, I walked into the shop with my heart pounding in my chest, expecting— hoping —for some sort of acknowledgment from Lilia. Maybe a sly smile, a lingering look, or even a teasing comment about our texts.

Instead, I got... nothing.

“Morning, y/n,” she greeted me in her usual warm but distant tone, barely glancing up from rearranging a set of tarot decks.

I blinked. “Uh, morning.”

She didn’t say anything else. No mention of the texts, no coy smile, no baby. Just business as usual.

I busied myself at the counter, sneaking glances at her whenever I could. And while she seemed to be going out of her way to act normal, something was different. She stood closer to me when we worked together, her hands occasionally brushing mine when I passed her something. She touched my arm when she needed me to move, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

And to make things worse, she kept casually reminding me of just how much older she was.

“You wouldn’t remember,” she said with a small chuckle when I asked about an old book she was dusting off. “It’s before your time.”

When I mentioned a show I’d been watching, she waved it off with a smirk. “Oh, y/n, that’s so... modern. I remember when television didn’t have color. ”

And when I tripped over my words trying to ask her a question, she just gave me that small, infuriating smile and murmured, “Ah, youth.”

It was driving me insane.

That night, I gathered with the coven at Agatha’s, pacing the living room like a woman on the edge. “She’s driving me crazy, ” I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t mention the texts at all? ”

“Not even once! ” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s like they never happened! And yet she’s touching me more than ever, but at the same time, she keeps bringing up how ancient she is.”

Agatha smirked. “Ah, classic ‘I’m too old for you’ defense.”

Billy frowned. “Wait, you think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like she’s trying to create distance without actually pulling away.”

I groaned into a pillow. “So what does that mean? She’s interested but scared?”

Jen hummed. “Maybe. Or she could just be screwing with you.”

Agatha sipped her wine. “Or hear me out—she’s waiting for you to push past the age thing.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “Push past it how? ”

Billy grinned. “Flirt harder.”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can flirt harder, Billy.”

Agatha leaned in with a devilish grin. “Then you make her realise age doesn’t matter.”

Jen smirked. “And how exactly does she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes gleamed. “Confidence. You show her you’re mature, and that she’s the one wasting time over nothing.”

I frowned. “And if she’s genuinely not interested?”

Alice squeezed my hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

Billy nudged me. “Look, the way she texts you... she’s interested, y/n. No way she’s not.”

I sighed. “I just... I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “y/n. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s hesitant. There’s a difference.”

Jen nodded. “You just need to show her that you’re serious, that you’re not some wide-eyed kid crushing on her.”

I groaned again. “So what do I do?”

Agatha grinned. “You step up your game. And I have just the plan.”

The shop was quiet this afternoon, the scent of incense curling through the air as I busied myself restocking the shelves. Lilia sat behind the counter, flipping through a book, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration. It was a peaceful kind of day until the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, nearly dropping the stack of crystals in my hands.

I froze.

Standing in the doorway, looking just as poised and elegant as ever, was my ex.

“Oh my God,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, then smiled in genuine surprise. “y/n?”

Lilia glanced up at the exchange, her expression pleasantly neutral, though I noticed the way her fingers paused mid-page turn.

I forced a smile, setting down the crystals. “Hey! Wow, uh... what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine recommended this place. Said the tarot readings here were... life-changing. ”

Agatha, you absolute menace.

Before I could explain, Lilia stood, offering one of her usual polite smiles. “A friend of y/n’s?”

My ex turned to her, all charm and grace. “Oh no, dear,” she said with a small chuckle, resting a hand on the counter. “I’m her ex.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Lilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just a fraction before she masked it with a practiced blink. “Oh,” she said slowly, clearly recalibrating. “I see.” Her eyes flicked between us, and then, with an almost surgical precision, she added, “Aren’t you... a little old?”

I internally screamed.

My ex, to her credit, handled it with an amused smile. “It was perfectly legal, I assure you.”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Hm.”

I coughed awkwardly, feeling my face heat. “We, uh... it was a while ago.”

Lilia didn’t respond, just continued observing me with that unreadable expression of hers, her hands resting lightly on the counter.

My ex gave me a lingering smile. “You look good, y/n. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under Lilia’s silent gaze. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” she replied with a casual shrug. “But I won’t keep you, I just wanted to check the place out. It’s lovely. I’ll be sure to come back when I have time for a tarot reading.” She smiled politely at Lilia. “I see y/n’s in good hands.” She added.

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she only nodded. “Naturally.”

I was pretty sure I was sweating at this point. “Uh, yeah, well, good seeing you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said with a lingering smile before heading out the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The moment she was gone, I turned to Lilia, ready to explain but she was already facing away from me, carefully aligning a deck of tarot cards that didn’t need aligning.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo... that happened.”

Lilia hummed noncommittally, her focus apparently glued to the cards in her hands. “Indeed.”

I shifted awkwardly. “You okay?”

She glanced at me, her expression perfectly composed but her eyes just a little too sharp. “I’m fine, baby.”

Baby. I nearly sighed in relief at the sound of it, but something about the way she said it, softer, more thoughtful made my stomach twist.

“You sure? You’re, uh... being quiet.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... thinking.”

I frowned, watching her closely. “About?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead carefully setting the tarot deck down before meeting my gaze. “I suppose I’m just... surprised.”

“Surprised?” I echoed.

Lilia tilted her head, her expression unreadable again. “You didn’t strike me as someone who dated... older women.”

I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh... surprise?”

Lilia studied me for a long moment, her lips pressing together like she was considering something. “I see.”

And then, without another word, she turned back to her work, and I was left standing there, feeling like I had somehow lost a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

By nightfall, I was back at Agatha’s, crashing onto her couch, groaning dramatically. “Agatha, you suck. ”

She grinned over her wine glass. “You’re welcome.”

Jen shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you saw your ex, Lilia found out, and now she’s acting weird? ”

“Weird,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “She’s quiet. Too quiet. And she kept bringing up the age thing before, but now she’s, like, really leaning into it.”

Billy grinned. “So she’s jealous.”

I groaned. “I don’t know! She’s not saying anything. She’s just being all... introspective.”

Agatha smirked. “Oh, she’s spiraling.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she’s just processing. I mean, you’re younger, and she’s probably overthinking it.”

“She is overthinking it,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what to do!”

Jen sipped her drink. “You flirt with her more.”

Billy nodded. “Exactly. Show her age means nothing.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if I can just—”

Agatha cut me off. “y/n. Look at me.”

I looked.

“You are hot. You are charming. And you have successfully dated an older woman before. ”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She grinned. “Lilia Calderu is not immune to you. Trust me. She’s just panicking because now she knows she’s not the first older woman you’ve been interested in.”

Alice chimed in gently, “She might have been telling herself the age thing was a reason not to get involved with you. And now? She’s realising it’s not a reason at all.”

I blinked. “You think?”

Agatha smirked. “I know. ”

Billy fist-pumped. “So, new plan?”

I sighed, staring at my phone, where Lilia’s name sat in my recent messages. “New plan,” I mumbled. “Step up the flirting.”

Agatha raised her glass. “To y/n’s romantic conquest!”

I groaned. This was going to be so much worse than the texting.

I walked into the shop with renewed determination. Last night’s pep talk with the coven had me feeling... well, mostly confident. At least confident enough to step up my game and make it clear to Lilia that the whole age thing? Not an issue. I had a plan, flirt, be charming, and maybe, just maybe , get her to acknowledge whatever was happening between us.

Except life, as usual, had other plans.

The moment I walked in, the shop was packed. A line of customers at the counter, others browsing the shelves, and Lilia, poised, composed, and completely absorbed in reading after reading.

I blinked. “Since when do we get this busy?”

She didn’t answer, of course. Lilia never spoke during a reading, but the way she glanced up at me before flipping over a card for the woman in front of her said enough.

I sighed, shoving my bag behind the counter.

After the reading, she finally looked up, smoothing her hands over the table. “It’s the full moon tomorrow. People are... searching.”

“Of course they are.”

So much for my grand seduction plan.

I tried, though. Between organising stock and ringing up sales, I threw in little comments. A brush of my hand here, a sly smile there. But Lilia? She was avoiding me like it was her new favorite hobby.

Every time I moved toward her, she shifted her attention to a customer. When I leaned against the counter, trying to catch her eye, she breezed past me with a murmured, “Excuse me, baby.”

And when I finally managed to get close enough to remind her about my plans, she barely registered it.

“Hey, don’t forget I have to leave early tomorrow,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Agatha’s art gallery thing, remember? I told you last week.”

Lilia, scanning a book title, nodded absently. “Mhm. That’s fine, baby.”

I frowned. “Lilia, Agatha will kill me if I miss it.”

Still no real reaction. “You’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she was gone again, moving to help another customer without a second glance.

I stared after her, utterly baffled. She was always attentive when I talked to her, always teasing or throwing in some cryptic comment to keep me on my toes. But today? Today, she was distant. Aloof. And it was driving me insane.

By the end of the day, I was ready to scream.

I stomped into Agatha’s that evening, slumping onto the couch in pure defeat. “She’s avoiding me.”

Agatha didn’t even look up from her wine. “Told you she’d spiral.”

Billy, sprawled on the floor with a tarot deck, flipped over a random card and smirked. “I predict that she’s freaking out.”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from the cards?”

“No, I got that from common sense,” Billy said, grinning.

Alice offered me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s just busy?”

I threw my hands in the air. “No, Alice. She’s strategically avoiding me. I tried everything today. Every time I got close, she found something else to do.”

Jen winced. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

Agatha set down her wine, eyes gleaming. “Simple. You keep going.”

I groaned. “Agatha.”

“No, listen,” she insisted, sitting up. “If she’s avoiding you, that means she felt something yesterday. And now she’s panicking.”

Billy grinned. “So what you’re saying is... push harder?”

I groaned again. “You guys want me to die.”

Agatha leaned back, grinning. “You’ve survived worse.”

I sighed. “I told her I was leaving early for your thing tomorrow. She barely reacted.”

Agatha smirked. “Good. Because tomorrow, my dear y/n, she’s going to realise just how much she hates it when you’re not around.”

Alice smiled kindly. “Maybe a little space will make her see what she’s missing.”

I stared at the ceiling. “I hate all of you.”

Billy grinned. “We know.”

As soon as I stepped into the shop again, it felt like déjà vu. But thankfully today the shop was quiet. Not many customers, just the quiet hum of the incense burner. And, of course, Lilia still expertly dodging me like it was her life’s mission.

I tried to be casual about it, leaning on the counter and watching her pretend to be absorbed in inventory she’d probably memorised years ago. “Hey, mind if I use your place to get ready for Agatha’s thing later?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She didn’t even look up, just nodded. “Of course. The spare key’s behind the counter.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she was back to pretending I didn’t exist.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to say something more, something to break through whatever walls she was so determined to put up. But instead, I just grabbed the spare key and headed into the back.

Lilia’s space was tucked behind the shop, a cozy, cluttered little place filled with books, candles, and an endless supply of robes draped over various furniture pieces. I didn’t think much of it as I changed into the dress Agatha had practically forced me to wear. The dress hugged every inch of me in all the right places, the deep shade accentuating my skin in a way that even I had to admit was... impressive.

I slipped on my heels, applied my red lipstick with a steady hand, and fixed my hair until it fell just right. I wasn’t trying to do anything, this was just getting ready for Agatha’s event but even I could admit I looked good.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my things and stepped back into the shop.

Lilia was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look up at first.

And then she did.

I watched the reaction unfold in slow motion, the way her eyes lifted, trailing up from the hem of my dress to my legs, then higher, higher, until they reached my face. Then she looked down, as if to double-check what she’d just seen. And then— snap —right back up again, her head jerking so fast I swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time ever, she said absolutely nothing.

I bit back a smile and walked over to the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floor, and held out the keys. “Thanks for letting me use your place.”

Lilia’s fingers closed around the keys, but she didn’t look away. Her dark eyes dragged over me again, slower this time, like she was trying to take it all in, maybe even commit it to memory.

There was something in the way she was looking at me, like she was working up the courage to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought she might finally break her silence.

And then, right on cue, the door chimed.

“y/n, darling!” Agatha’s voice was as bright and smug as ever as she strolled in, wearing a knowing smile that only deepened when she saw the way Lilia was staring at me. “Look at you.”

Lilia’s gaze snapped away, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Agatha’s arm linked through mine, her grin positively feral as she turned to Lilia. “I’m stealing her for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Lilia finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Not at all.”

I turned to her with a small smile. “Bye, Lilia.”

She nodded, still looking at me like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Goodnight, baby.”

Agatha practically dragged me out of the shop, and as soon as the door shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, y/n.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, no, did you see her face?” Agatha cackled, practically vibrating with glee. “I think you just aged her a decade.”

I groaned. “She didn’t even say anything.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, starting the car. “Oh, honey, she didn’t need to. That woman was devouring you with her eyes.”

I bit my lip, staring out the window. “You think?”

“I know. ”

And honestly? I really, really hoped she was right.

The night with Agatha was exactly what I needed. I loved things like this, dressing up, feeling the buzz of conversation, the soft glow of lights reflecting off expensive paintings, and the effortless way I fit into it all. There was something about the atmosphere, about the way people looked at me, that made me feel alive. And, of course, Agatha basked in it too, sipping her wine with a smirk and throwing me knowing looks every time someone complimented my dress.

"You clean up dangerously well, darling," she whispered at one point, nudging me with her elbow. "No wonder Lilia nearly combusted."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the heat creeping up my neck. "She didn't combust."

Agatha just grinned. "She will."

After the event wrapped up, Agatha, never one to let a good night end too soon, insisted on a celebratory gathering at her place. It didn't take much convincing—Billy, Jen, and Alice were already in, and honestly, I loved being around them. Nights like this were rare, and I soaked it in, lounging on Agatha’s plush couch with a glass of wine in hand while she dramatically recounted the events of the night.

"And then," Agatha said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "she walked out of that little back room, looking absolutely devastating, and I swear to you, Lilia nearly dropped dead. "

Jen gasped in delight. "Shut up. "

Billy, sprawled out on the floor with his arms behind his head, grinned. "I knew it. I knew she couldn’t handle it."

Alice, ever the voice of calm, smiled softly. "She really didn't say anything?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Not a word. She just... stared. "

Agatha smirked. "Stared? Honey, that woman was devouring you with her eyes."

Jen cackled. "So what’s the next move, y/n? Do we escalate?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "She’s been weird all week, avoiding me, and now this? What does it even mean? "

Billy rolled onto his side. "It means she’s cracking."

"She’s definitely cracking," Jen agreed. "And if you play your cards right, she’ll snap soon enough."

I sighed, swirling my wine. "I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable, though. If she’s really that caught up about the age thing—"

Agatha waved me off. "Oh, please. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s terrified. "

"Terrified?" I frowned.

"Terrified because she knows you could wreck her entire world, and she wouldn’t stand a chance." Agatha leaned in with a wicked smile. "And she likes being in control, doesn’t she?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone buzzed, cutting through the conversation. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced down, and there it was.

Lilia: Let me know when you get home safe.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Billy sat up instantly. "Who is it?"

I swallowed hard. "Lilia."

The room erupted.

"Oh my God," Jen practically shrieked, grabbing my arm. "She texted you?! "

Agatha grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, she’s gone. "

I blinked, staring at the message. "It’s just... she wants to make sure I’m okay."

Agatha snatched the phone from my hand, reading the message aloud in a dramatic tone. "Let me know when you get home safe." She gasped theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve entered the protective phase. "

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. "It’s not a big deal."

Jen poked me. "y/n. Babe. This is a huge deal. She’s thinking about you right now. She’s picturing you coming home, kicking off your heels, and—"

"Okay, that’s enough," I muttered, my face burning.

Billy smirked. "But seriously, what are you gonna say back?"

I stared at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I don’t know. What do I even say? "

Agatha leaned in with a devious grin. "Simple. ‘Wish you were here.’"

I shot her a glare. "I’m not sexting her."

Alice smiled. "You could just say, ‘I will, thanks for checking in.’ Casual, but lets her know you appreciate it."

Jen hummed. "Or... you could send a little something extra. Not too flirty, just enough to keep her thinking."

I sighed. "You guys are terrible influences."

Billy shrugged. "We know."

I rolled my eyes but typed out a response anyway.

Me: Thanks, Lilia. I will. You're sweet for checking in.

I hovered over the send button, heart racing, before pressing it.

The room watched in silent anticipation.

Billy grinned. "And now we wait."

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz again. The coven had gone back to their usual antics. Billy was dramatically narrating the highlights of Agatha’s gallery event, Jen was critiquing the wine selection, and Agatha was lounging with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with her own meddling.

But me? I was glued to my screen, staring at Lilia’s last message like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, finally, my phone buzzed.

Lilia: Please let me know if I need to send the police out.

I snorted, shaking my head. “She’s threatening to call the cops on me.”

Billy perked up. “That’s sexy.”

I sighed, typing out a response.

Me: I’m at Agatha’s, staying here tonight.

A moment later, another buzz.

Lilia: Good. Glad you’re safe.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips. But before I could even process it, another message popped up.

Lilia: How did the night go?

The coven erupted.

“Oh my God, ” Jen gasped, grabbing my arm. “She’s fishing. ”

“Grandma’s up past her bedtime, ” Agatha grinned, swirling her wine. “Probably already touching herself thinking about y/n and that red lipstick.”

I choked on my drink. “ Agatha! ”

Billy cackled, rolling onto his side. “I mean, she did see you in that dress. You think she just went to sleep after that? Hell no.”

Alice, blushing furiously, covered her face. “Oh my God, guys.”

I groaned, glaring at them. “Can you all not? She’s being nice, that’s all.”

Agatha smirked. “Sweetheart, people don’t stay up texting their employees at midnight just to be nice. ”

Jen waved a hand. “Yeah, no one’s buying that. She’s sitting at home, staring at her phone, probably replaying that double take she did when you walked out in that dress.”

Billy wagged his brows. “Lilia Calderu: palm reader by day, handsy old woman by night.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Agatha grinned. “No, you love us. Now text her back. Be flirty, y/n.”

I peeked out from my hands. “What do I even say?”

Jen, ever the strategist, leaned in. “Keep it casual but suggestive. Something like, ‘It was good. Would’ve been better if you were there.’”

Billy gasped. “Yes, yes, YES.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s too much. Maybe just say, ‘It went well, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’”

Agatha snorted. “Boring.”

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Fine. I’ll go with something... middle ground.”

I typed, biting my lip.

Me: It went well. I think I made an impression.

The coven leaned in, waiting as I hovered over the send button. I rolled my eyes and hit it.

We all stared at the screen, waiting.

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I have no doubt you did, baby.

I froze, and the coven lost it.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. “I think I’m going to die.”

Agatha grinned. “Not before you sext her back. ”

I stared at my phone, heart hammering in my chest, Lilia’s message practically burning into my screen.

I turned to the coven, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. “What do I say? What do I say?! ”

Alice sighed. “Keep it playful. Like, ‘Good to know my reputation precedes me.’”

Agatha smirked. “Or—and hear me out—‘I leave a mark wherever I go... want me to leave my mark on you?’”

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. “You all suck.”

Billy grinned. “And yet you keep asking for our help.”

I rolled my eyes but typed anyway, fingers trembling just slightly.

Me: Good to know my reputation precedes me.

A collective sigh of satisfaction rippled through the group as I hit send.

We all stared at the screen again. Silence. Then...

Lilia: It does. Quite the reputation, indeed.

Jen gasped. “OH. MY. GOD. ”

Agatha laughed, draping herself dramatically over the couch. “y/n, darling, you are killing her.”

I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my lips, warmth spreading through me.

Alice giggled. “This is so cute.”

Billy nodded sagely. “It’s not cute, Alice. It’s sexy. ”

We kept chatting for a while longer, Agatha tossing out increasingly absurd suggestions that I shot down one by one, and eventually, we all crashed, smiles on our faces, hearts full, and just enough teasing to ensure I wouldn’t get a moment’s peace tomorrow.

It was so fucking early. Too early. The kind of early that felt like a personal attack.

I woke up to the sharp smell of coffee and the unmistakable sound of Billy and Jen bickering, their voices cutting through the dawn like they had no concept of time—or mercy. My brain protested every second of consciousness, but I managed to peel myself off the couch, blinking blearily.

After some groggy, half-conscious hugs and a round of mumbled promises to update each other, we all stumbled our separate ways, the world outside still drenched in that unsettling, pre-sunrise gloom.

And then... I was home. Alone.

And I was bored.

I wasn’t at the shop today, which meant I had absolutely no distractions. No tarot cards to organise, no shelves to restock, and, most importantly, no Lilia. I found myself pacing my apartment, debating whether it would be too much to text her again, but the thought made me cringe.

I needed an excuse. Something casual.

I chewed my lip, glancing at my keys. And then it hit me.

Lilia loved this little Italian pastry place across town, she mentioned it once in passing, some small hole-in-the-wall bakery that she claimed made the best sfogliatelle she’d had since leaving Sicily.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my coat and drove across town.

By the time I reached the shop, the Closed sign was still hanging on the door. It was early, too early for the shop to be open yet, but I knocked anyway, clutching the warm box of pastries in my hands.

A few seconds passed, and then the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there in a robe— a robe.

A silky, deep burgundy robe that clung to her in ways that made my brain short-circuit. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she looked... soft. Sleepy.

And I was the one speechless now.

“y/n?” she murmured, brow furrowing in confusion.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to form words. “Uh... I brought breakfast.” I held up the box like an offering, as if that explained why I was standing outside her shop at an ungodly hour.

She stared at me for a beat, then at the pastries, and then back at me. Without a word, she stepped aside, opening the door wider.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the shop mingling with the faint, warm scent of her.

Lilia gestured to the small table in the corner where we usually sat with tea. “Sit,” she said softly, closing the door behind me.

I obeyed, setting the pastries down as she disappeared into the back for a moment. When she returned, she had two mugs of coffee in hand, sliding one across the table to me.

“Thought you had today off,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unboxing the pastries. “I do. I just... thought you’d like these.”

Her lips twitched. “From my favorite place?”

I grinned. “I listen.”

She picked up one of the pastries, inspecting it like she was deciding if I’d done a good job. Then she took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really do listen.”

I laughed softly, watching her. “So, how’d the shop do without me yesterday?”

Lilia smirked. “It survived.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension from the night before melting into something more familiar. She asked about the gallery, my friends, the art. I told her about Billy’s ridiculous art commentary and Agatha’s smug satisfaction.

“You have good friends,” she said after a while, stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“They’re the best,” I agreed, smiling.

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug with those dark, knowing eyes. “And they care about you... a lot.”

I shrugged. “I care about them too.”

Something flickered in her expression, but before I could ask, she glanced at the clock and sighed. “You should probably head back before they start wondering where you are.”

I pouted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m saying your fan club will miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the hint, and stood to gather my things. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get ready to open.”

Lilia smirked, walking me to the door. “Smart choice, baby.”

I paused in the doorway, turning to her. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze soft but unreadable. “Anytime.”

I left with a flutter in my chest, already thinking about what excuse I could come up with to see her again.

The evening was quiet, just me and the soft hum of the TV filling the apartment. I was curled up on the couch, half-watching some crime drama, the kind where the detectives always figure things out way too fast. My mind kept drifting back to this morning, Lilia in that robe, the way she’d looked at me, the way her lips had curled around the edge of her coffee cup like she was considering something she wouldn’t say out loud.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, telling myself to stop overthinking.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, expecting a text from one of the coven, but my brows furrowed at the sender.

Lilia Calderu.

I sat up a little straighter, unlocking my phone.

The message? Absolute gibberish.

“fhbgggjkkjj”

I blinked.

I stared at it.

I blinked again.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Lilia? Everything okay?

No response.

I stared at my phone, waiting.

Still nothing.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should call her, when—

RING.

I nearly dropped the phone as Lilia’s name flashed across the screen.

I fumbled to answer, pressing it to my ear. “Lilia?”

Nothing. Just... breathing.

Shaky, uneven breathing.

And then—

A whimper.

My entire body froze.

Another sound, soft and needy, and—

A low, drawn-out moan.

I choked on air, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mouth went completely dry.

There was no mistaking what I was hearing. No way.

I opened my mouth to say something— anything —but before I could, the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had just burst into flames in my hand.

“No. No way,” I whispered to myself, blinking rapidly.

This... this had to be an accident. Maybe she sat on her phone? Maybe—maybe she was watching a... video or something? Yeah, I thought, nodding to myself. That makes sense. Probably just a mistake.

A completely innocent, totally not deliberate mistake.

My phone stayed silent in my hands, and I sat there for about 20 minutes, just processing.

And then my phone buzzed again.

Lilia: Ignore that.

I gawked at the screen.

Ignore that?

Like it was just some minor inconvenience?

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: …Okay?

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—

Lilia: Goodnight, baby.

I groaned, falling back against the couch, covering my face with my hands.

“She’s going to kill me.”

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it, the soft whimper, the breathy moan, the way the call cut off before I could even process what was happening. My mind replayed it over and over, dissecting every second until I convinced myself it had to be a mistake.

Lilia had to have accidentally pocket dialed me. There was no way she’d do something like that on purpose. Right?

By the time morning rolled around, I was a mess, over-caffeinated, under-rested, and dreading what was going to happen when I walked into the shop.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, bracing myself for something, anything awkwardness, a comment, maybe even a cryptic remark about phones.

But when I walked in, Lilia was already behind the counter, counting the till like nothing had happened.

“Morning, y/n,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I froze for a second. “Uh... morning.”

She glanced up, arching a brow at my hesitation. “Are you alright?”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of discomfort or amusement anything that would give away the fact that she absolutely knew what she did last night. But she just looked... normal. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just... didn’t sleep well.”

Lilia hummed knowingly. “Ah, too much excitement from your art gala adventure the previous night?”

I blinked. Was that... was that a dig? I couldn't tell.

“Something like that,” I muttered, setting my bag down behind the counter.

She straightened up and gave me one of her usual, polite smiles. “I need you to organise the crystal display today. People keep moving things around, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I stared at her, waiting for something, some sly comment, some subtle hint that she knew.

Nothing.

She just handed me a cloth and gestured toward the shelves like it was any other day.

I nodded slowly, taking it from her. “Sure. I can do that.”

Lilia’s lips quirked, and she patted my shoulder lightly. “Good girl.”

The words slipped from Lilia’s lips like they meant nothing, like they weren’t currently wreaking absolute havoc on my nervous system.

I gripped the cloth in my hands so tight I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate. My entire body was in overdrive, my brain short-circuiting in real-time, because after last night, after hearing that noise, after spending all night dissecting it from every possible angle, there was no way I could process her saying that without losing my mind.

And yet, Lilia carried on like she hadn’t just set me on fire.

She hummed to herself as she floated across the shop, rearranging candles with her usual air of elegant chaos, soft, sophisticated, yet somehow still completely kooky. She muttered something under her breath about “people putting things in the wrong places” and shot the candles a scolding look, as if they were responsible.

Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to act like my entire worldview hadn’t shifted overnight.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

There was no way she had butt-dialled me on purpose, right? No way she knew what I’d heard. But what if she suspected? What if she was saying things like good girl just to watch me unravel? Was I unraveling? It definitely felt like I was unraveling.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lilia’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I nearly jumped, clutching the cloth like it was a lifeline.

“I’m—I'm fine,” I croaked, too fast, too awkward.

She glanced at me with a raised brow, then tilted her head, curls slipping over her shoulder in that careless, elegant way she always managed. “Mm.” Her lips quirked, amused but not prying, yet. “If you say so.”

I nodded too quickly, ducking my head and wiping the same spot on the shelf three times. Play it cool. Play it cool. She doesn’t know.

Lilia, completely oblivious to the chaos in my head, twirled one of her rings around her finger absentmindedly, watching me with a curious little smile. “You really didn’t sleep well, did you?”

I froze. Oh god. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, returning to fussing with the display, adjusting a vase by a fraction of an inch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was fairly sure I sounded like I was moments away from combusting.

Lilia turned, resting her elbows on the counter and watching me with a thoughtful expression. “The same one you get when you’re overthinking things. Your brow does this little... crinkle.”

My hand shot up to my forehead instinctively. “It does not.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh, it does.”

I groaned under my breath, focusing aggressively on the shelf in front of me. “It’s nothing. Just... a long night.”

She hummed knowingly. “Ah, still recovering from the art gala. I imagine it was... stimulating. Those events tend to linger, don’t they.”

I choked. “What?”

Lilia blinked, completely innocent. “The art. Your friends.” She paused. “The drinks?”

I stared at her, searching for even the tiniest flicker of something, anything , that might indicate she was toying with me. But she just looked... normal. Perfectly composed. Like she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Stimulating.”

Lilia tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Are you in trouble? Did you get up to mischief?”

My entire existence was mischief at this point. “No.”

Lilia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gently adjusted the sleeve of her robe, glancing at the clock. “Well, whatever it is, baby, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”

There it was again. Baby. My knees nearly gave out.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the shelf. Focus.

To make things worse, she strolled over, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her, something warm, a little floral, a little spicy, something that was so Lilia it made my head spin. She picked up a crystal from the display I was supposed to be fixing and turned it over in her hands.

“This one’s nice,” she mused, running her fingers along the edges. Then, without missing a beat, she handed it to me. “For stress.”

I blinked. “I’m not stressed.”

She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that said she knew I was lying through my teeth. “Of course not.”

I took the crystal anyway, staring at it like it might offer me some divine clarity.

Lilia lingered for a moment longer, then gave a satisfied nod. “Well, I’m off to pretend I’m being productive in the back. Call if you need me.”

I watched her disappear behind the curtain, releasing the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The second she was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned into my arms.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

She didn’t know.

And yet, somehow, it felt like she was winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I sighed, rolling the crystal in my palm, muttering under my breath. “Progress. It’s progress.”

Because she wasn’t avoiding me. And if this was how she wanted to play it?

Fine. Two could play that game.

For now.

#lilia calderu x reader #lilia calderu #agatha all along #patti lupone #agatha all along fanfic

144 notes · View notes

itsabouttimex2 · 6 months ago

Text

“You need to do better.”

(This gets vitriolic, and is a full-blown criticism of Macaque’s portrayal in Season Four and Five. If criticism of a character/franchise you like upsets you, I do not recommend reading.)

Wow. I had no faith in his character writing, and I’m STILL disappointed.

And it only took one episode! How impressive!

Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims, is criticizing Wukong for being a bad mentor! And does Wukong criticize him back? NOPE!

After getting screamed at and berated, does Wukong defend himself? NOPE!

Ooh, but there was a second long reference in a dual yelling match that mentioned that Macaque was a genuinely bad person who took glee in hurting innocent people! Oh, fucking delightful! Ooh, Wukong even points out in one episode that Macaque goes without consequences!

Pointing out a flaw in your writing does not make it less of a flaw.

Macaque will always be allowed to do whatever he wants to anyone he wants- power theft, attempted murder, insults, deceit, assault-

And the narrative and characters will never hold him accountable or force Macaque to look inwards or become a better person.

Macaque will always fall upwards into redemption without any obstacles or pushback.

There will never be a struggle to goodness with a satisfying conclusion. There will never be a moment where falters in his newfound goodness and questions going back to his old ways. There will never be explicit remorse or regret. He will never have deep introspections on his crimes and atrocities that provide a reason for him to want to change.

The sum of his “arc” will always be “you were a good guy all along”, and that lack of depth is where it will stay.

RIP Seasons 1-3 Macaque. You were fun and interesting and cool and lovable.

But the man they replaced you with was destined to be a boring and brooding “anti-hero” who has no real connection to the actions you selfishly and violently performed with your own two hands-

And you will always be a less interesting character for it.

The execution of the actual arc boils down to a single heroic (but ultimately self-serving) moment and then Macaque is immediately forgiven for all the crimes he’s committed and is a magically better person without any effort and nothing he’s done is ever brought up again.

It severely weakens any character’s arc to cut them off from their past actions. If MK forgot his traumas every season instead of carrying them forward- we’d all agree that doing so was a case of poor writing.

It was the reason that people disliked Mei’s portrayal in Season Four- she immediately moved on from the Samadhi Fire arc and “no longer wielded it” after spending a whole season gathering and learning to use it.

Why can’t we agree that it’s bad for Macaque, too?

You can’t “develop” a character by dropping an entire plotline and writing it off with one line.

You can’t “redeem” a character by pretending that they were a good person right from the start.

Sorry, bud.

I really did like you. I just wish I could like your writing.

——————

And, what is more clear to me now than ever?

People only defended Macaque’s shitty writing because they think he’s hot.

I know this now, because I’ve seen white-hot Li Jing arc hatred from fervent Macaque arc defenders.

So we all agree that an “I didn’t really mean it!” isn’t an excuse to abuse the people around you? That you don’t get to mistreat innocent people just because you’re stressed and upset?

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I wonder why people despise Jing for his dogshit “one nice thing redeems all your bad actions” arc but love Macaque for his??

(Because they think the monkey is hot.)

The funny thing, though?

Li Jing apologizes to at least one of the victims of his actions. He expresses regret and remorse.

Macaque doesn’t even have that.

——————

Anyways here’s a line that I hate because Macaque has in no way developed enough to have the right to deliver it-

AND NO, SUDDENLY HAVING AN AFFINITY FOR PERFORMING KIND OR SACRIFICIAL ACTS IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

HIM MAGICALLY OFFSCREEN BECOMING A GOOD PERSON WHO CARES ABOUT INNOCENT LIFE IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

IF ALL IT TAKES TO “BE BETTER” IS ACTING LIKE A HERO, WUKONG IS LITERALLY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER OF A PERSON THAN HE IS

THIS LINE IS DOGSHIT

“You need to do better.”

Really, Macaque? Maybe you should take your own damn advice- try apologizing to one of the people you tried to hurt and tried to murder in cold blood!

Like when you trapped MK under his staff after stealing his powers and tried to murder him when he was helpless?

Or when you kidnapped MK’s friends and tortured the kid by forcing him to fight them?

Or you led a violent assault against a palace full of innocent people?

Or violently beat his dear friends until they were screaming in pain?

Or assaulted Tang, who posed no threat to you?

Or threatened to murder an innocent girl if you didn’t get your way, then ran away (and encouraged MK to abandon her) first thing when it put her into a life-threatening meltdown of raw power?

(Isn’t it cool how NONE of these people have interesting or varied reactions to him doing this and ALL immediately are cool with him like a gelatinous hivemind.)

(Oooh ONE mildly questioning line from Pigsy but no anger over his adoptive son nearly being killed multiple times over)

(Isn’t it cool that no one has complex or interesting thoughts on this.)

(Isn’t it cool that by robbing them of unique feelings on the matter they robbed Macaque and the Monkie Kids of compelling and interesting interactions that could’ve helped flesh out their personalities and strengthen their characterization.)

(Isn’t it cool that Macaque and the Monkie Kids are actively denied intriguing character dynamics so Macaque’s shitty “redemption arc” can happen faster.)

(Isn’t that cool.)

Why don’t YOU do better, Macaque?

(In a way that is more satisfying than “one kind-hearted speech from a kid that I tried to murder changed my mind and now I am a better person but all my character development happened offscreen and without personal introspection”, at least.)

Also what the fuck do you mean by “do better”?

Be heroic and put your life in danger? He already does that! He’s done it more than you have!

Just tell MK that he’s not alone? YOU COULD DO THAT YOURSELF, MACAQUE!

Help MK with his traumas and fears? MK doesn’t tell anyone about those! He keeps them bottled up, lock and key, and actively refuses attempts to help!

Wukong TRIED to reach out to him, and MK PUSHED HIM AWAY! Was he supposed to tie the fucking kid down and torture the information out of him?

He respected MK’s boundaries by not pushing any further and letting him leave!!

WHY IS THAT A BAD THING??

What the fuck, man

#Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #Lego Monkie Kid Season Five #LMK Spoilers #Lego Monkie Kid Spoilers #LMK Analysis #LMK Critical #Sun Wukong #Macaque #Please prove me wrong Season Six #I want people to look back on this post and laugh at me #I fucking hate not liking things #I want to be wrong when I say things are bad #But I’m starting to… not like Monkie Kid?#Because I like LMK and JTTW!!!#And I like Sun Wukong!#But LMK is starting to feel like Beowulf (2007) where the creator actually hated the original work #And now it feels like the writers just want to shit in Wukong by making him a walking disaster who does everything wrong #And I’m worried that Macaque will be what the fandom wants him to be- a perfect precious baby victim who does no wrong #And Sun Wukong will forever be a ‘mistake’ who is punished again and again and again #While the Bullfam and Macaque get away scot-free with all their crimes and no punishment #Anyways if the writers AND the fandom could stop treating Sun Wukong like a fucking punching bag #That would be nice

184 notes · View notes

ranhaitanisgf · 1 year ago

Note

also i'm sorry i forgot to specify it but a scenario!! so, i'll do it again 😹 is it okay to req scenario + enemies to lovers + pocky game + mitsuya. like the game started bc of a dare SKDJDHFJRK OK THAT'S ALL SORRY I JUST WOKE UP

—mitsuya takashi // enemies to lovers // pocky game

☆ ˎˊ˗ HI MEI !!! ik u left tumblr but this combo was so cute !! if u see this i hope you are doing well :))) i kind of didnt follow the combo but i think it turned out alright !! i hope everyone enjoys ! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.9k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“(y/n), i dare you to do the pocky game with the president!”

pausing your work, you took a moment to process what you’d just heard; there was absolutely no way you heard that correctly, right? you blinked, eyes flicking around the other various club members who had also stopped their work, instead looking up to stare at the girl who had burst into the classroom.

it seemed like she had been running, her breaths coming out in hot puffs as she looked at you with an excited look on her face. there’s no way she was actually serious, right?!

“...huh? what’re you talking about…?” you asked, frowning a bit at her strange request. “you do realize that you’re thirty minutes late to club, right? where’ve you been?”

yasuda marched into the room, walking right up to you and planting her hands on your shoulders. she was beginning to startle you a bit, though you had to admit that the excited sparkle in her eyes intrigued you; surely, she had a reasonable explanation for this, right?

“(y/n), listen!” she leaned down to match your height in your chair, cupping her hand to the side of her mouth to prevent anybody from hearing her as she started to whisper in your ear, “i just heard something crazy from hayashi-kun!”

“oh…okay? what is it?” you asked, albeit a bit hesitant. “you’re acting really strange.”

“he told me that the president has a crush on you!”

“...excuse me?”

“yeah!” she leaned back, awaiting a response from you. “isn’t that amazing?! you should go talk to him!”

you merely sighed, shaking your head and going back to working on your project. as you pulled your needle in and out of the fabric, you pondered for a moment, wondering where such a ridiculous idea even came from.

“yasuda-chan, there’s no way that’s possible. i’ve literally declared war on him because of how evenly matched we are in sewing. i’m not going to embarrass myself just because hayashi-kun thinks he knows everything! you should know better than to trust everything he says.” you chided.

all yasuda did was roll her eyes, her lips curled into a smug smirk.

“now that he told me, i totally see the chemistry between you two! and, since i dared you, you have to do it!!”

“we aren’t even playing truth or dare right now, what?”

“you know, just let me-” yasuda snatched your needlework project from your hands, “-handle this! i’m a matchmaker, and you two are perfect!” when you tried to retrieve it, she slipped out of your grasp, already running away and out of the classroom.

“you’re a highschool student, not a matchmaker?!” you yelled after her. she was long gone at that point, and now that she had taken your project with her, you were stuck.

you sat back down, sighing as you slumped down in your chair. you had absolutely no idea what she had been talking about, but now that she had gotten the idea in your head, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. mitsuya? likes you? there was absolutely no way it was possible. after all, you had told him that you two were rivals, (you were only 50 percent serious about that) so why would he like you?

it wasn’t exactly like you were against the idea of him liking you; it was quite the opposite, in fact. you’d always thought that mitsuya was one of the kindest boys you’d ever met, and he was certainly easy on the eyes, (there had been more than one time when you’d caught yourself staring at him).

you weren’t about to get any hope over something like this though; there was absolutely no way.

not more than five minutes had passed before the door slammed open again, although this time yasuda wasn’t alone. along with her was a very confused looking mitsuya, who was currently being shushed in response to his inquiries as to what was happening.

“(y/n), c’mere!” you glanced around, wondering how exactly you were supposed to be acting in this situation. all the other club members just shrugged at you, going back to their own project. it made you want to sigh again, but you didn’t, instead getting up and reluctantly walking over.

i guess i can kiss my peaceful afternoon goodbye…please come back another day.

“yo…” you greeted, trying your best to shy away from yasuda. of course, it was to no avail, since you were immediately dragged into the hallway, the door shutting behind you as you nearly lost your balance from her surprising strength.

from seemingly nowhere, a pair of hands steadied your frame, holding you firmly by your shoulders to keep you from falling. when you looked up, you were met with mitsuya’s familiar gaze, his lilac gaze laced with concern.

“hey, you alright?”

of course it’s him. why would it be anybody else?

“yeah, thanks…” you mumbled, taking a step away from him, leaving a healthy amount of space between the two of you. “yasuda, what is this about-?”

“okay, here!” the girl damn near hurled an object at you, with you barely being able to catch it. “bye!” without another word, she immediately zoomed off, leaving you with a box of pocky in your hands and a very confused mitsuya.

he laughed a bit out of shock, which made you laugh a bit too; seriously, this was one of the most random situations you've ever found yourself in.

“so, do you know what’s going on?” mitsuya asked, his face a mix of amusement and confusion. “yasuda-san just mentioned your name then dragged me over here. is something wrong?”

“well, not exactly…there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding, i think…” you explained, shaking your head. “yasuda’s got it in her head that you have a crush on me, or something like that. she said she heard it from hayashi-kun, so she burst in all like ‘i dare you to play the pocky game with the president’ and stuff, and that’s really all…i know…yeah…” your words tapered off as you talked, watching how mitsuya’s ears and cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink.

once you stopped talking, mitsuya’s eyes wandered to the side, his ears progressively turning a deeper shade of pink as you stared at him. he chuckled a bit, one of his hands moving behind his neck to fiddle with his hair.

“i guess i’m caught.” he admitted. “peh-yan can’t keep a secret to save his life, so i knew i would be outed sooner or later. jus’ didn’t expect this soon. ‘m not really prepared…” he muttered, seeming a bit annoyed. “i was planning to have this be a little bit more gentlemanly, but-”

“wait, you…you like me?” you interrupted, pointing to yourself. mitsuya subtly raised a brow at you, seeming confused at your question.

“didn’t i just admit to it?”

“i know, but…i just, i thought that she was being crazy or something! i always thought that there was no way…” when you realized what you had just admitted, you immediately tried to backtrack. “i-i mean! uh, not that you’re terrible, actually, you’re the opposite of terrible, i just meant that i…i…”

“can i?” mitsuya suddenly asked, gesturing to the pocky box in your hands.

“huh? uh, yeah…” you murmured, holding it out to him. the embarrassment flooding your body now was unmatched to anything you’ve ever felt before; why were you bumbling like a complete fool?!

you watched as mitsuya opened the box, ripping open the wrapping and plucking one of the chocolate sticks out. he held it between his fingers for a moment, seeming to be thinking about something before walking a bit closer to you.

“just let me know if you want me to stop, okay?”

“o-okay…what’re you-?” mitsuya slipped the pocky stick between your lips, essentially cutting your words off. he waited for a moment, seemingly waiting for any sort of response as he looked at you. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears at this point; you’ve never had someone look at you with such intense eyes before.

when you didn’t seem to be rejecting anything, mitsuya moved just a bit closer, one of his hands moving to hover near your jaw. he paused for a moment, waiting before he did anything. when you didn’t move away from his touch, you finally felt his hand move under your chin, gently moving your head to tilt up.

without any more hesitance, he bit down on the end of the pocky stick, eyes locked on yours. on one hand, you wanted to look away from embarrassment, but on the other hand, you were anticipating and watching his every move, not wanting to look away even for a moment. his lazy lilac eyes were burning with so many different emotions, and you wanted to see all of them.

slowly, he took another bite, and then another, starting to move closer and closer to you as he kept biting down on the pocky stick. before you knew it, the two of you were face to face, and you knew that if he took one more bite that the two of you would-

a crunch! interrupted your thoughts, and just a moment later you felt velvety soft lips, pressing gently against your own lips. the taste of chocolate briefly filled your senses, and all you could think and feel was mitsuya.

and then it was over, the boy pulling away gently and giving a small smile. despite how cool and calm he seemed to be, you could tell that he was also nervous and excited from the flush across his cheeks.

“does that answer your question?”

“huh? what?” mitsuya chuckled a bit at your confusion; in your defense, you were still delirious from kissing him.

“remember? you asked if i was sure i liked you.”

“oh…” you mumbled, recalling that you did in fact ask that. “i, uh…i am definitely not convinced…you should try and convince me.” you tried to say calmly, (you definitely did not say it calmly).

“hah, i have to finish my tutoring session, but i’ll pick you up after club is out, okay?” he asked, seeming amused at your lame attempt to get another kiss out of him.

mitsuya seemed like he was about to leave, taking a few steps away and giving you a smile, but he stopped, backtracking to you.

“just to give you a little more convincing…” he murmured. before you could ask him what he was talking about, one of his hands slipped behind your head, gently pushing you forward a bit as he leaned down, lips carefully pressing against your forehead. he stayed there for a moment before he leaned back, giving you a warm smile. “i’ll see you in a bit, (y/n).”

“oh, okay…”

“bye.” he chuckled, seeming to be amused by your shell-shocked state.

“bye bye…” you waved as he walked away, his first few steps being backwards to keep facing you before he turned around, jogging down the hall and eventually out of sight.

as you kept standing in the hallway, you brushed your fingers against your lips, feeling like they were tingling and on fire at the same time. the taste of chocolate lingered on them, making you remember mitsuya.

wow…

almost as if you were possessed, you slowly walked back to the club classroom, sliding the door open. what you weren’t expecting was for almost all the home ec’s club members to be pressed against the door, falling back when you opened it. without any words, you all stared at each other for a moment in shock. in an instant, they were all scrambling up from the floor, scurrying back to their places as you continued to stand there, your jaw hanging open.

oh my god.

409 notes · View notes

okay-j-hannah · 7 months ago

Text

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: A little more history of the Reader in this one - I honestly love her family's backstory

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Part 5: Mieczyslaw {You Are Here}

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

The hospital was quiet that evening. You were assigned to the long-term care floor and spent long hours updating patient files and making your rounds. Checking vitals, refilling water bottles, adjusting patients with bed sores, and administering medication at the right times.

It was the perfect distraction. You would be missing the lacrosse game that night, missing the first game with Scott being co-captain and Stiles being first line.

You’d be missing Andrew and his dimpled grin.

Instead of focusing on that the rest of the night, you call Lydia who had texted you an SOS.

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I mean, he sent me a pathetic text asking for his house key back. The loser is so down in the dumps that he doesn’t think he deserves me, which is right, of course.”

You hold the phone with your shoulder and start typing notes into a patient file, “I’m sorry, Lyds. Breakups suck.”

“He’s become such an asshole recently. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. But good riddance. I needed to climb the social food chain anyway. He’s been lacking in the lacrosse category.”

“Sounds like you’re handling it surprisingly well.”

“I’m completely over him. Only took a few minutes… seconds actually.”

You smile, “Yeah, you barely sound upset over it.”

She can hear your sarcasm, “Did you hear that Allison is still going to the game? Her dad and aunt are going too.”

“That’s weird,” you frown, “I wonder why.” With the Argents being hunters… you wonder how much they know about the number of werewolves in town.

“You’re still on shift tonight?”

“Yes, right where I want to be. The perfect excuse to miss the game.” You upload another patient file and wave to another night nurse leaving for her break. It was just you and one other nurse on the floor – a redhead named Jennifer.

“Anything exciting happening?” she asks in a huff, upset that the attention was no longer on her dilemma.

“Nope, I’m working the long-term floor. Everyone here is mostly in recovery or stuck in their beds. It’s usually pretty quiet at night, which is why there’s less staff.”

“Fascinating,” Lydia says quickly, “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m going to sit with Allison and scope out my next boyfriend.” She laughs before adding, “Don’t worry, Andrew is off the table.”

You scoff, “Yeah, thanks. Have fun.” And you slide your phone back into your scrubs pocket.

The next half hour was relatively quiet, just two call buttons going off. The rest of your time was spent making your rounds and completing chores. That is until a pair of sneakers comes walking down the hallway.

“Yeah, I said I can’t find her.”

You stand to confront the foreign male voice that was definitely intruding past visiting hours, only to find Stiles on the phone. He was getting snippy with whoever he was talking to, “Hey, listen here wolfman – the only reason I’m harboring your fugitive ass is because you saved (Y/N)’s life last full moon, got it? I don’t owe you any more favors.”

“What the hell?” you say, catching his attention, “Don’t you have a lacrosse game to get to, hotshot?”

In a few seconds you can see a range of emotions flickering through his face: confusion, happiness, worry, and something in the way he looks at your scrubs. “Hi, (Y/N).”

You walk around the nurses station and fold your arms, “Care to answer my question?”

He gives you a goofy side smile, “You’re talking to me.”

“Yes, Stiles,” you fight the immediate grin that wants to envelop your face. “What are you doing here?”

He leans into the phone for a second, “Uh… is there a Jennifer working here?”

“She’s the on call nurse tonight, why?” you pop a hip, arms still tightly crossed.

“What about Melissa?” he asks, walking down the hall and to a room. He speaks to the phone again, “Yeah, well, he’s not here either.”

“Who are you talking to?” you ask exasperatedly, “Stiles, you can’t be here past visiting hours. Would you please…”

“He’s not here. He’s gone, Derek.”

Your jaw drops, “The fugitive you’re harboring is Derek?”

He looks to you, “Yeah, the rest of the town doesn’t know he’s innocent because it’s actually a psycho Alpha werewolf that’s killing everyone,” he says to you. “You sure Melissa isn’t here?”

You hold your hands up, “I’m not answering anymore of your questions until you tell me what’s going on.”

Suddenly you can hear the frantic voice of Derek over the phone and Stiles has a look of instant terror. It sets you on edge when a mysterious man stands at the corner of the hall; it was as if he had appeared out of thin air.

Half his face is covered in burn scars and after a second thought you realize that it’s Peter Hale – the long-term resident of the floor. Your eyes widen at the sight of him standing without his wheelchair and Stiles takes a few steps in your direction.

“You must be Stiles,” Peter says in an eerily calm tone. He’s barely smiling as he nods in your direction, “Hello, (Y/N). It’s nice to finally be able to speak to you.”

Stiles drops his hand holding the phone, walking back until he feels you near him. He reaches behind him and takes hold of your arm. Your instinct is to press yourself closer into his back, “Is that…?”

“He’s the Alpha,” Stiles mutters, whipping his head to the side at the newcomer.

“Jennifer!” you say, “We have a situation with…”

The redheaded nurse holds her head high, “Shut up!”

Your mouth clamps shut – how many people are in on this? Stiles, in his usual fashion, can’t stay quiet for long.

“You and… him? You’re his… and he’s the…” Stiles is shielding you with his body at this point. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die. We’re gonna die.”

You jab a finger into his spine, silencing him. “This is not how I’m supposed to die.”

But with an elbow to the face, Jennifer falls to the floor and Derek takes her place. You forget momentarily how tall, dark, and handsome he is. Peter speaks again with that same calm, menacing tone.

“That’s not nice. She’s my nurse.”

You start to pull Stiles against you, taking you both behind the nurses station.

“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people.”

Peter makes his way over, “You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?”

A growl ripples from Derek’s throat, fangs appearing from his open mouth. Blue eyes glowing with strange power, he bounds for the attack. You’re paralyzed at seeing the action up close.

“Holy shi…”

Stiles drags you to the floor, doggy-paddling across the tile like a swimmer. You army crawl beside him as Peter and Derek start to throw each other against the hospital walls. Bits of plaster and plastic side railing break away easily.

“Okay,” you say, coughing as you breathe in some plaster dust, “I believe you now. I really believe you.”

“Is that why you haven’t been talking to me or Scott?” Stiles yells over the growling werewolves. “Scott could have easily proven werewolves existed if you just asked him to show himself.”

They continue their sliding movements across the station and to the next hall, the sound of breaking glass loud behind you. “No, I stopped talking to you because I needed a break after hearing the truth. It’s a lot to think about when you realize the whole freaking town has lore in supernatural entities that aren’t just make believe… they’re actual fucking werewolves!” You swipe an arm across the tile and shove his legs out of the way to reach his side. “I needed time to cope with the sudden shift in what I knew to be reality.”

“Understandable,” he pants, tongue sticking out, “I just wish we could’ve helped you cope instead of you just shutting us out.”

“Like I said… I wasn’t really thinking!”

“And of course it was the same night as Scott forcing a kiss on you and trying to kill you in your own home…”

“Shut the hell up, Stilinski! Bigger problems at hand!” The werewolves were moving to a different patient room to continue their fight. You gesture to the end of the hall, “The emergency exit is there. We just have to get there and down the stairs. We can call 911 when we’re outside.”

Stiles agrees, watching you with a different panic, “How’s your heart?”

“If anything happens we’re in a hospital,” you say frankly, “Come on.” You lead the way as the fighting becomes quieter.

Stiles admires you from behind, standing to run the last few feet. You slam into the door and guide the way down the many flights of stairs. Stiles is jumping whole steps and crashing into the walls.

Your lungs start to fight for breath by the time you reach the bottom, Stiles tripping over the last step and falling to his knees beside you.

“Does… Does the Alpha have control…” you pant, holding a stitch in your side, “… over Derek?”

Stiles breathes dramatically, his face scrunching up in a funny way. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He might be forcing Derek onto his side right now with some crazy alpha mind control.”

You stumble toward the exit, shoving it open to a gust of chilly night air. You lean against the hospital wall, hands on your hips. Stiles follows, pulling out his car keys.

“Can you make it to the jeep?”

“If I say no would you carry me?”

He shrugs, pulling a face, “No promises. I could probably swing a piggy-back ride.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” you say, bending down to put your head between your knees. It was routine when you were out of breath and starting to feel lightheaded. Your hands lay flat on the concrete, your mind focusing on how cold and gritty it feels under your fingers. You listen to the crickets and the wind whistling through trees. You smell the honey sweet rain from Stiles.

A large warm hand spreads against your back, rubbing up and down your spine.

You feel the air flood your lungs, “Have you called the police yet?”

“I told them there was a possible break-in and a nurse got knocked out,” he says, “They’ll be here soon.”

You take a few deep breaths, soothed by Stiles’ hand. “I have to wait for the police.” You sit up and Stiles retreats a few feet. The action makes you consider him for a few seconds. “I’m not mad at you or Scott. I just… I needed some distance while I tried to figure things out.”

There’s a bob in Stiles’ throat, “And… have you figured things out?”

You screw up your lips in thought, “I need to talk to Scott first.”

Stiles nods vigorously, hope lighting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah – for sure. Let’s go find him now, I’m sure the lacrosse game is almost over.”

A flash of pity is in your face, “You missed your first game.”

“Yeah, well…” he waves a hand, extending it to help you to your feet. “I had a couple more important things to tackle tonight.”

“Won’t your dad be disappointed?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs, walking to the passenger side of the jeep, “But if the pinkeye epidemic continues then I’m still first line for the time being!”

You giggle, sliding into the jeep, “I’ll pray for the conjunctivitis.” With the heater still broken, you’re grateful you chose a long-sleeve undershirt for your scrubs. It took a few minutes for you to call your boss and explain the situation.

The police were on their way, and you were meant to stay to give a witness statement. It would also have been irresponsible to leave your patients in their time of need. Choosing to wait in the jeep was just common sense seeing as there were two werewolves having a row upstairs.

“Do you think Derek is okay?” you look out the window.

Stiles was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, “He’s fine. Peter will probably try to get him under his control.”

“Then what?”

“He’ll keep trying to get Scott into his pack.” Stiles leans more against the door to get a better look at you. “So we have some catching up to do.”

“Like what?” you smile.

He frowns, picking at his fingers, “I don’t know… like how Jackson broke up with Lydia.”

“Yeah,” you grimace, “Lydia only just told me about the breakup tonight.”

Stiles blows air between his lips, “Jackson always has another agenda. He’s been black mailing Scott because he wants the werewolf bite.”

“You’re kidding,” you say, “How did he find out about the supernatural?”

“I don’t know! He hasn’t been talking to anyone, not even Danny.”

You lean against the door to match Stiles’ stance, “Well, I know Lydia has said he’s never been the same since Scott outperformed him. He’s been slipping ever since.” You rub at your eyes, “He doesn’t talk to me much, and now it’s awkward between him and Lydia.”

“There’s also the news that the Argents know about a second beta werewolf.” At your look of confusion, he continues, “They know there’s an alpha and they know about Derek. They’ve realized that there’s a second werewolf and they’re trying to figure out who it is.”

“They being Allison’s dad and aunt?”

Stiles nods, “They have been scouting ever since – they think it might be a teenager.”

Your head perks up, “Lydia said Allison’s family was going to be at the game tonight. I bet they’re looking for clues as to who could be the other werewolf.”

“Let’s just hope they don’t suspect Scott.”

Stiles continues to pick at his nails, looking at them instead of you. “I’ve also heard that you might be going on a date with a certain potential lacrosse boyfriend…?”

You fight a smile, “Andrew asked me out.”

“And you said?”

“Yes!” you laugh, “I’ve been waiting for him to ask since I started working with Coach on the lacrosse field.” You miss the bitterness in Stiles’ face; he was trying to hide it with his downcast gaze.

A police siren could be heard down the highway. Stiles clears his throat, “Is he going to ask you to the winter formal?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, tickled at the thought, “But that’s still a couple weeks away.”

“Do you want him to?” Stiles finally looks at you, straining to keep the hurt he feels at bay. The tightness of his chest was smothered by the boiling jealousy in his stomach. He hates the way you sound doting on Andrew. And he hates himself for being jealous over something he shouldn’t be mad about.

You made your choice and Andrew is a good guy.

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t know about my heart and a formal dance would be prime time for it to give out.” You take a deep breath, “I’d rather not spoil an evening like that.”

Stiles nods and considers you, “I guess you just need to go with someone that knows how to calm you. That way you don’t need to worry.”

It was suddenly tense for a few seconds while the police cars come closer to the hospital. You put a hand on the door handle and say, “You should probably get out of here so your dad doesn’t overhear why you might not be at the game. Police radios, you know…”

“Right,” Stiles says, “Let me know if anything comes up. I’m going to find Scott and tell him about our newly identified alpha.”

~~~

The next few days felt a little less hostile as the friend group settles into a new norm. Jackson is still moseying up to Allison, who is still apologizing on behalf of Scott for the impromptu kissing. You console her in that Scott wasn’t himself that day.

Allison was also venturing into new hobbies to keep her mind off things. She had taken to practicing archery in the woods, sometimes taking you or Lydia with her.

Jackson was talking in angry whispers to Scott and Stiles more often. You know it has something to do with seeking the werewolf curse.

As for yourself, you were working on your science project implanting E.coli in varying meats and cooking them, swabbing each as you go and putting samples in petri dishes. They were currently incubating in the chemistry lab while you walk down the hall with Andrew.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you say, eyeing the way Andrew held your books for you.

“Hey, now we’re going to state,” he says, “You can come to that game.”

You smile, almost to English, “I’ll bring my pom-poms and megaphone.”

Andrew laughs, handing back your books for class, “I won’t say no to a little cheerleading outfit.” He winks at you and a warm blush envelops both your faces.

“I’ll see you later,” you say.

Walking into class you’re quick to notice Scott and Stiles staring at you (Stiles with a little more of a frown). You choose to sit in front of Scott, taking any opportunity for Allison to be near him.

“(Y/N)…” he starts with hesitance, “Stiles told me you’re talking again.”

You don’t turn around at first, “And?”

He leans forward across the desk, and you can hear his whisper over your shoulder. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to apologize to you this last week and… nothing seems good enough. After you avoided me and everything, I thought I lost my chance.” He sighs and you can feel it in your hair. “(Y/N), I am so so sorry. I’m sorry for attacking you – I’m sorry for forcing a kiss on you – I’m sorry for scaring you – and I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

Very slowly you pivot in your chair to look at him.

Those puppy-dog eyes were back full force. Those were Scott’s eyes – not the dark, menacing look they had on the full moon. You knew the difference was night and day. The real Scott McCall would never do those things if he was in full control.

“I feel terrible,” he continues, afraid at your persistent silence. “I’m an awful friend and I should have told you the truth sooner. Maybe you would have been more prepared for the full moon like Stiles.”

You blink, “Have you apologized to Allison?”

“Well, I tried…” he scratches at his shaggy head, adding to his puppy-dog look. “She was shooting arrows in the forest with Lydia yesterday… and I needed to return a necklace of hers.”

“You mean you were stalking her?”

“The details are a little foggy,” he says quickly, “I might’ve scared her and she tazed me.”

Stiles snorts from beside Scott and you have to stop yourself from losing your composure. “She’s picked up a few things since breaking up with you.”

“I noticed,” he says lowly. “Anyway, I tried to apologize, and I think it got to her a little. She’s still mad, but I think she might forgive me eventually.”

“I told you,” you say with a slight smile. It gives Scott hope.

“And what about you?” his dark brown eyes are wide with anxiety.

You share a look with Stiles, who shrugs. “I forgive you.”

Scott sighs, his head falling into his arms on the desk. “Thank god. I promise, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to do any of those things. The full moon had me wired and it was like something else was controlling my body.”

“It’s okay, Scott. I did a lot of thinking while taking a break.” You look between Scott and Stiles as the tardy bell rings. “And I don’t think I can be involved with all this werewolf stuff.”

Stiles is nearly out of his chair with how he reacts. “What do you mean?” his desk squeaks terribly against the tile floor.

“I mean, I’d like to still be friends with you guys…”

An awful needle like puncture was screwing its way through Stiles’ chest. Friends.

“… but I don’t really want to be included in any werewolf business or late night investigations or almost being killed – which has happened to me about three times now since starting school.”

“Werewolf business is a very regular part of my life,” Scott says with a disbelieving laugh.

You nod, “I get it, I just mean I’d love to hang out or go to a party sometime, but I can’t be involved with anything else related to the alpha situation.”

Stiles was having trouble swallowing as Scott continues, “Like it or not, (Y/N) – you’re kind of a part of my pack. The pack that the Alpha wants me to get rid of.”

“Then… I’m resigning from the pack,” you shrug half-heartedly.

Stiles’ jaw nearly hits the floor as the teacher snaps at the three of you for talking. There is about three minutes of quiet as the teacher explains the upcoming book report that you’ve already finished on Sense and Sensibility.

After that you receive a group text from both Scott and Stiles.

Stiles: You’re just unfriending the pack?!

(Y/N): Can’t I do that and still be friendly?

Stiles: No

Scott: Of course you can. We just don’t get why

You raise your hand and share what stance you took on the book report requirements. You wrote an analytical piece on the personalities of two sisters: Elenor being all sense and Marianne being all sensibility.

The teacher looks pleased and asks for more volunteers. You’re now covered to keep texting.

(Y/N): Tell you later

Scott: Ok

Stiles: Tell us now

You tuck your phone away and feel it buzz with a few more messages before going quiet. You don’t mean for it to be such a shock. You just knew that the more stress you had the more likely you’d have a fainting episode with your heart condition. That would lead to more heart damage and an end that you want to prolong as much as possible.

Being surrounded by high stress werewolf situations was going to be the death of you.

You are quick to leave the classroom at the bell and the boys weren’t far behind.

“Hey,” Stiles grabs your shoulder, slowing you down. “Explain.”

Scott holds his backpack straps, awkward but less demanding on hearing your explanation.

“It’s not a good idea for me to be around a lot of stress,” you sigh, “You know… because of my heart.”

Both boys purse their lips and share a look. Scott is quiet when he asks, “Because you have a tachee-heart?”

You and Stiles both say, “Tachycardia?” You laugh and continue, “Yes. My heartbeat is already irregular and if I do anything to add to it… it’s bad news bears.”

“Care to expand on what these bad news bears are?” Stiles asks irritably.

“That’s a talk for another day,” you say quickly, leading the way to your next class. “Just know that the more my heart struggles the worse off I’ll be.”

“But we can help you,” Stiles says, pressing into your shoulder as you all walk down the hallway. “We can calm you down if that happens.” I can calm you down.

You sigh, “Not always. It can be random and persistent.” You stop outside the door of your next class. “This isn’t me saying we can’t be friends, just… I want to avoid any werewolfy scenarios that might involve near death and/or general terror.”

You leave Scott and Stiles to contemplate out in the hallway. Shoulders sagging, Scott groans, “This werewolf thing is ruining my life.”

“Yeah, and mine.” Stiles broods at the classroom door, taking a second to realize what he said and turning to the mild anger on Scott’s face. “What? I’m the best friend – I am legally bound to whatever misery you experience.”

“All the new friends I’ve made are literally being pushed away because of this curse,” Scott rubs hard at his face, “And it’s ruined my love life, not to mention my lifespan. Hunters are basically knocking down my front door!”

“Yeah, it’s really putting a damper on my love life too.” Stiles mumbles to himself, “I really thought I had a shot with her.”

Scott shoves his friend, “Even after all her talk about Andrew?”

Stiles scowls, “That’s just a silly crush.”

“And what she feels for you is… what exactly?”

“Hidden feelings that I will unlock one day for her to realize that I am the perfect guy for her…” he licks his lips, wincing, “… despite the clumsiness, sarcasm, and general idiocy.”

Scott laughs, “Yeah, she’s really missing out.”

“Hey!” he rams into Scott as they walk towards their next class. “I really like her, Scott. Like… I like her, like her.”

“I know, Loverboy.”

“She’s all I can think about, and I know I’m just a pathetic friend of hers, but I’m hopeless, Scott! Completely hopeless.”

Scott gives him a look, “Are you sure you’re not stalking her?”

“In a broad sense of the term,” Stiles shrugs, “I’ve never felt this comfortable around a girl before. I’ve never felt this way about any girl.”

“You’ve got it bad,” Scott sighs, “I know the feeling well.”

~~~

You walk through the aisles of computers to sit near the back beside a hunched figure. He keeps his head down even as you watch his eyes dart to see who you are. If anything it makes him more shy, his shoulders drawing in as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible.

You sling your backpack onto the ground and ignore the random text Stiles sent you about the history of the male circumcision. He was always sending you the most out-of-pocket things.

“Hey,” you smile at the quiet boy, “My name’s (Y/N)…” He turns his head a little more and you instantly recognize him as one of the benchwarmers on the lacrosse team, “… and you’re Isaac, right?”

His blue eyes seem to warm at your recognition, “Yeah, Isaac Lahey,” he clears his throat, “I uh…”

“You play lacrosse!” your smile widens, “I didn’t realize we had computer science together.”

“Play is a strong word,” he says with a hint of a smile. “I sort of keep to myself.”

You lean on your elbow, considering him as he fidgets under your gaze. “I think the last time we talked was when I was passing out permission slips for that spring retreat Coach was talking about.”

Isaac nods his head, still bowing like he was trying to hide behind his computer screen. “I don’t talk much.”

“You didn’t bring back your permission slip if I remember correctly.”

“No,” he clears his throat again, finding it hard to swallow. “My dad needs me to stay home.”

“Even for just a weekend?” your brows knit.

He licks his lips, “He needs help at work and… I’m the only one around to do it.”

“Shame,” you mutter, “I’d like to have seen you there. Maybe we could’ve roasted marshmallows together and tossed Coach’s whistle in the lake.”

His lips upturn a little more, “You’re going on the retreat?”

“I don’t think the Coach can survive without me,” you stifle a laugh, “Besides I’m the only one who knows anything about the retreat. He probably couldn’t drive a single one of you up there.” You nudge your arm into his, “You should ask your dad again, see if he’ll change his mind.”

Isaac has an emotion you can’t gauge flash across his eyes. “Maybe.” He nods and hides that smile you’re trying to pull out of him. “I wouldn’t mind messing with Coach, though.”

“We could hide his energy drinks or put dye in his toothpaste,” you muse, “Make his teeth blue for a day.”

“Or we could put a squirrel in his cabin,” Isaac says with a little more enthusiasm, “Or maybe we could hide his shaving kit and see what kind of beard he can grow.”

You snort, “I bet it’s as white as an old mans.”

“It’s because all us kids give him gray hairs,” Isaac laughs, smiling wide.

You laugh along, suddenly struck with his change of demeanor. “You have a great smile, Isaac,” you say, “It looks good on you.”

A rush of red fills his cheeks, unable to stop smiling now. He isn’t hunched behind his computer anymore, “Thank you.”

The teacher was about ready to throttle you two for giggling over her talking. You nudge Isaac again with your arm, putting a finger to your lips.

~~~

The next day you’re being dropped off at the Argent residence for a ‘family dinner.’ Allison has been complaining about how often her dad talks about meeting you. It was odd not having met them – almost every parent in town knew who you were.

That was the consequence of a small town with two working parents in the emergency fields. Most adults knew that they had to leave at the drop of a dime if your heart was ever in trouble.

Hence the anxiety making your fingers pull on your sleeves.

“(Y/N)!” Allison greets, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry for this,” she whispers.

You whisper back, “Don’t be.” But a flash of fear crosses your face when the door widens to reveal a blue-eyed, middle-aged man. “Mr. Argent?”

“(Y/N),” he extends a hand, eyes never blinking as he probes you, “We finally meet.” He shakes your hand firmly, “My wife and daughter have only had good things to say.”

And my friends have told me about your penchant for shooting arrows at teenage boys. “Nice to meet you.” You follow the family inside and to the dining room. “I hope you don’t mind…”

In your free hand was a small container of peanut butter brownies you had made earlier that day. Chris Argent looks pleased when he inspects the contents, “How wonderful – you didn’t have to.”

“I know,” you say, handing the dessert to Allison to plate. The Argents were able to provide for themselves, plus extra.

Living on the other side of town, the Argent residence was much more lavish than what you were used to. It created a very unfortunate divide between the teenagers. An invisible line that was rarely mentioned, but nonetheless present.

Over in these neighborhoods, Lydia, Allison, and Jackson lived with rich crown moldings, nice cars, high ceilings, and antique furniture. More in the valley, you, Stiles, and Scott lived in modest homes with hand-me-down items and a small growing pile of bills.

With one check you bet the Argents could take away your family’s medical debt.

“Your home is lovely as always,” you say, admiring the chandelier in the dining room. “And dinner smells amazing.”

“Not my doing,” a dirty blonde says with a crisp laugh. A near forced laugh as her less piercing blue eyes meet yours. She assesses you with something a little colder than Chris. “Hello, I’m Kate, and I have no talent for cooking.”

You give a wave across the table, instantly wary of her. Allison pops up beside you, “That’s my aunt I told you about.” She looks to Kate as she sits, “(Y/N) is an amazing cook.”

Kate nods, still scrutinizing you with her gaze. “What else are you good at, (Y/N)?”

“Reading,” you say instantly, sharing a laugh with Allison. “I keep to myself mostly.”

With the table set, the Argent family sits to enjoy the meal. Victoria Argent, whom you’ve met the few times you’ve been out with Allison, sat with her husband.

“So, (Y/N), tell us a little more about yourself,” Chris says, spearing asparagus with his fork. “You’re close with our daughter but we know almost nothing about you.”

You try to swallow your roast chicken quickly as Allison scolds her father. “I told you not to interrogate her,” she leans closer to you, “He doesn’t really have a ‘pleasant conversation’ option in his vernacular.”

“It’s alright,” you say with a wave, grabbing a nice cloth napkin to dab at your mouth. “My parents like to know who I’m friends with too.”

“You know Scott and Jackson, correct?” Kate digs into her chicken with a knife.

“Yes, we’re all friends. I also am a teacher assistant for Coach Finstock, so I see them at lacrosse a lot.”

Chris considers you, “But you weren’t at the last lacrosse game?”

“No, I work at the hospital as a medical assistant and I picked up a shift that night,” you take a sip of your water. How much information was too much information to give?

Kate tilts her head in your direction, “Wasn’t there a break-in at the hospital that night?”

You nod slowly, “Yeah, someone got into an altercation past visiting hours. I don’t know who but when I went to investigate the noise, there was a lot of broken glass and cracks in the walls. Thank goodness none of the patients were harmed.”

Chris takes his time cutting his meal into pieces, “That sounds terrible. What did you do?”

“I called the police, checked on my residents, and ran outside to meet the cops.” You take a small bite of food, “They didn’t find anything besides the damage.”

“Cameras?” Kate questions.

You shake your head, “My co-workers said that they had been damaged as well. Wiped clean or lost… I don’t know exactly.”

Chris seems satisfied for the time being, “Well, I’m glad you got out safely, whatever it was.”

Kate, on the other hand, seems to perk with interest, “I hear you’ve had a run-in with danger a couple times this year.” At your look of confusion, she nods toward your collar. “The attack on the video store, I mean.” She barely moves a centimeter as she stares you down, “Allison told me you had gotten clawed pretty bad.”

You spot the wince in Allison’s brow. “I did get attacked that night,” you wipe at your mouth again. “It was pretty bad for a while, infected and everything. But I’m okay now.”

Kate was persistent, “Must have left a pretty gnarly scar.” Her eyebrows lift as if expecting you to reveal your shoulder. She was scolded by her niece.

“It’s still a little pink, but that’ll go away with time,” you say as nonchalantly as possible. “I’d say it makes me look a little cooler than I am.” You shift the collar of your shirt an inch to reveal the tail end of three massive claw marks, another curling around your arm. It was your turn to gauge the reaction of the Argents.

Chris and Kate share a look and you clear your throat in response. Are you making yourself a possible werewolf suspect?

“And what do you guys do for work?” you say, steering the conversation off yourself. “Allison says that you’re a weapons dealer?”

Chris pours himself more water, “That’s right. We have quite the collection if you’re interested.”

You shake your head quickly, “I’m not really built for that. I enjoy my books and my lazy cat sleeping in my lap as I read.”

He nods, hopefully in a sign of respect. “That’s why Kate is here. She deals in weaponry as well – a very skilled hunter.”

She raises her glass, “The art of the kill. I needed my brother’s expertise on a few pieces for my latest hunt.”

“What do you hunt?” you say innocently.

“Big game predators,” she says, cold eyes locked on you. “Cougars, bears, wolves.”

You almost smirk. These people are hiding in plain sight.

“My mom is a buyer for a store in San Fransico,” Allison steers the conversation even more. “Right, mom?”

Victoria, already done with her meal and leaning back in her chair, replies, “Yes, it’s a charming little boutique. I also teach math at a boarding school for boys on the side.”

You nod, “Why math?”

“Strategy,” she says flatly. “Equations and probabilities. I enjoy the art of stratagem.”

That was slightly off putting as well. Did these people know how to be subtle? How had Allison gone this long without knowing her family history?

“And your parents are…?” Victoria continues.

You smile, “My mom works behind the desk at the police station – taking and directing calls. My dad works at the firehouse.”

“You must hear everything that goes on around here,” Chris smirks.

“Only when I ask,” you say, “And that’s considering nothing wild has happened in Beacon Hills for years…”

Kate leans back in her chair as well, crossing her arms in contemplation. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yes,” you say, pushing your plate away, “Almost since birth.”

“Where did you live before?” Chris asks.

He might be intimidating, but you enjoy talking to him much more than Kate. “My parents lived in Palo Alto when I was born. We had a nice house and my mom worked security at Stanford University. My dad actually met her at the San Francisco Bay. He was a lifeguard before he was a firefighter, and he watched the swimmers at Keller Beach and Berkeley Marina.” You smile a sweet smile, “She kept coming back to those places to see him… even pretended to drown once for a kiss.”

“Must be a fan of The Sandlot,” Allison snickers, enjoying hearing you talk more than her family.

“So why make the move to Beacon Hills?” Kate asks, arms still tightly wound.

Your smile falls a little, “I was born with a congenital heart defect. The medical bills and surgeries became too much… and we had to downgrade.”

Allison puts a hand on your leg beneath the table. Chris sends a piercing look to his sister and mutters, “I’m sorry, (Y/N) – I didn’t know you were sick.”

“Still am,” you say with mock cheerfulness, holding your water glass with two hands to give yourself something to focus on. “Heart problems are persistent. We try to keep it as discreet as possible.”

He nods, looking at you with a different air of likeness. “It sounds like you have a wonderful family.”

“I do,” you say fast, “Thank you.”

They move on to the brownies you brought as a means to change the subject. Victoria hums her appreciation, “These are delicious, did you put caramel in here too?”

“Caramel is one of the greatest inventions of all time and deserves to be incorporated into as many sweets as possible,” you laugh, “Of course I put caramel in them.”

The table laughs as you eat, feeling a little stripped bare after revealing so much about yourself. As Allison said, it did feel more like an interrogation rather than a pleasant family meal. You were quick to text the boys as you leave the residence.

“My place in ten minutes. I have an Argent update.” You smile as you add, “… and leftover brownies.”

Allison was kind enough to drive you home, apologizing the entire way. “My dad wasn’t as brazen as usual, but my aunt Kate?” she rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe how much she was grilling you.”

“You have a protective family,” you shrug, “So do I.”

“Your parents have a good reason to be extra protective of you,” she retorts, “My family is just nosy and suspicious and… I don’t know, my aunt and dad have been a little tense with each other this visit. They usually get along so well.”

“How much longer is your aunt staying here?” you ask, holding your container of leftover brownies.

Allison knits her brow in thought, “I’m not sure. She says she’s getting ready for another big hunt and just needs supplies and my dad’s advice. But I don’t know… sometimes I feel like she isn’t telling me everything.”

You thank Allison for the ride and the invitation to dinner. You promise to give her an update on your date with Andrew that weekend, and she drives off. Entering your house was a breath of fresh air.

Oliver trots to your side, his furry underbelly swaying side to side before you scoop him up and kiss his head. He purrs instantly.

“How was dinner?” your mom asks, sitting at the dining table with little potted plants in front of her. She was trying to grow herbs from seeds and the lavender was not doing so well.

“It was fine,” you kick off your shoes, “Her family is a little interrogative.”

Tom walks in with his usual cola, no doubt with a few ounces of whiskey poured in. “I knew they were a little tense, especially after that Chris guy shot the mountain lion at parent teacher conferences.”

You scratch under Ollie’s chin, “It was still nice, but I would watch out for that Kate Argent. She scares me a little.” You sit at the table and watch your mom preen the little sprouts of eucalyptus and rosemary. “Oh, I also invited Scott and Stiles over, if that’s okay.”

Tom folds his arms, making them look massive beneath his firehouse flannel. “I thought you liked that Andrew guy.”

“I can like a guy and be friends with other guys, dad,” you snicker, “I’m just going to take my medicine real quick, will you send them up when they get here?”

Your mom waves you off, adding some water to her seedlings, “Leave me one of those brownies, would you?”

A minute later, and having taken all your prescription meds, there’s a howling laugh coming from downstairs. You move to the foot of the stairs to see Stiles beaming and your dad wiping his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tom says, “Stilinski here was just telling me about a police fiasco with a red tricycle and a klepto.”

You look puzzled as Stiles scratches at the back of his head, “Yeah, I might’ve stolen some already stolen items from evidence when I was a kid. I was the prime suspect for about three days with all the stuff in my possession.”

“And at five years old,” your dad laughs, downing his drink.

“I really wanted the tricycle!” Stiles retorts, “It was my first bike.”

Tom shakes his head, “Learning to pedal on stolen property.”

Scott pulls on his friend, “It was nice talking to you guys.”

“Of course, sweetie,” your mom says, “Now not too late, you still have school tomorrow.”

Walking up the stairs (Stiles tripping over at least two of the steps) you lead the boys into your room, Oliver already on your bed.

“Hey, buddy…” Stiles gets on his knees and crawls to the edge of the bed, “How’s the fuzz ball?”

Ollie perks his ears and blinks slowly at Stiles, bowing his head for a pet. Though upon Scott’s arrival, the cat sets his ears back and hisses.

“What the…” you mutter, watching your cat growl low in his throat and dart to leave the bedroom. “He’s never acted like that before.”

Scott looks guilty, “Well, I am part dog and… I did break into your house as a werewolf not too long ago.”

Your lips make a thin line, “Right. Cats and dogs don’t always get along.” You walk to your bed, flicking at Stiles’ head as you sit down, “Do you guys want a brownie? They’re leftover from my dinner with the Argents.”

Stiles’ greedy fingers dive for the plastic container while Scott shoves his hands in his pockets. “You had dinner at their house?”

You relay some of the conversation you had. The mysterious penchant for weapons and hunting big game predators. The interrogative questions on the hospital break-in and your involvement with Scott and Jackson. The request to see the claw marks on your shoulder.

“Do they think you might be the second beta too?” Scott asks with a tense line between his eyebrows. Stiles was too busy eating his third brownie.

“Maybe… do they think a scratch could turn you?”

“That’s what Derek said,” Scott swallows hard, “He told us a deep enough alpha scratch might give you the curse. The Argents might have the same theory.” He smacks his forehead, “Which is why they’re suspicious of Jackson. He has those claw marks in his neck from Derek.”

You frown, “And they don’t know they’re from Derek and not the Alpha.”

“But they do know your scars are from the Alpha,” Scott mutters worriedly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they do a follow-up on you.”

“But after I told them about my heart condition, they seemed to back off. At least Chris did.”

You relay the conversation that you had about your parents meeting in Palo Alto and the move to Beacon Hills because of your heart. You remember the likeness Chris Argent had in his voice as he expressed his apologies for your sickness.

“If you’re sick then you couldn’t have the curse,” Scott mumbles, picking at his chin. “Werewolves heal really fast unless the wound is supernatural too.”

Stiles is licking his fingers when he suddenly blurts, “Do you think if you were a werewolf your heart would be cured?”

You shrug, finding the amount of brownie left on Stiles’ face amusing. “I don’t really want to find out. Anyway, I knew you guys would probably want to know.”

“Still not keen on all this werewolf business?” Stiles asks.

“I’m just trying to protect myself.” You sit on the bed, Stiles on the ground and leaning against the mattress. He’s looking up at you with his brown eyes, fizzing with warmth like cola and whiskey. “It’s not that I don’t want to investigate with you guys. I just worry what it’ll do to my heart.”

You laugh and point at your own face, “You’ve got chocolate all over your mouth.”

Stiles is quick to rub his mouth across his shirt sleeves, “Those brownies were just too damn good.” There was still a smudge at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe if you swallowed between bites…” you move your fingers to his face, lifting his chin to look up at you. He’s frozen as you move your thumb to the corner of his mouth and wipe down and under his bottom lip.

Eyes wide and imploring as they look up at you. He’s all sweet innocence and deeply adoring as you touch his mouth. The brown of his eyes was melting into the sticky sweet sap color, like warm honey in the sunlight.

You pull your hand away and suck the chocolate off the pad of your thumb, “… but thank you for the compliment. I’m not as much of a baker.”

Scott was trying to keep a smile off his face as his hand hovered near his crinkled nose. He was smelling something that was flying off Stiles like a firework set aflame. The poor boy was squirming in his spot on the ground, crossing his legs and keeping his hands over his lap.

“How was Allison?” Scott changes the subject.

You look up, now ignoring the sappy eyes gazing from below. “She was fine – maybe a little embarrassed about her family. It was strange knowing the motive behind her family’s questions but seeing none of it register with her.”

“I have a feeling she’ll find out soon enough.”

“Me too,” you stand, “For now she’s releasing a lot of her stress through archery and training with her aunt.”

Scott shivers, “Scary.”

You nod, walking to the door and hearing Stiles scramble to his feet. “I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow?”

Getting into the jeep was uncomfortable, Stiles pulling at his jeans. Scott was laughing at him before too long, “Dude, you should have seen your face. You really are hopeless.”

Stiles groans, slamming his forehead into the steering wheel, “She touched me and every thought just flew out of my head.”

“I could smell it off you,” Scott grimaces, “Just awful lovey-dovey sex hormones, even without the full moon I could smell it.”

Stiles sat straight, making the jeep wiggle side to side. He had a ruddy red mark on his forehead. “Did you smell anything from (Y/N)?”

Scott clamps his mouth shut before shaking his head. “I could hear her uneven heartbeat, but that’s nothing new.”

In a dramatic turn of events, Stiles slumps in his seat and puts the car in drive. “I need to figure out a way to tell her.”

“Tell her your feelings?” Scott gaps, “What about the possibility of utterly crushing humiliation? Not to mention ruining what friendships we still have.”

“Thanks for adding to the anxiety, Scott,” he grumbles, “I just… I can’t help thinking about how I am with her. I have never been able to just talk about my mom to anyone… but with her it’s easy. I’ve never brought a girl over to my house before… but with (Y/N) it was a no brainer. I’ve never been so equally terrified and comfortable with a girl. And with her heart…”

“You’re like an anchor for her,” Scott says quietly, all teasing aside. “You can calm her.”

Stiles puts one hand over his cropped hair, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

“You know the difference between you and Andrew Wickstrom, Stiles?”

He snorts, “He’s maybe four inches taller than me, has perfect curly hair, and is way better at lacrosse than I am.”

“He asked (Y/N) out,” Scott says, “You just need to ask her out.”

~~~

Friday night was all excitement and butterflies as you walk around a strip mall with Andrew. The white fairy lights turn on when the sun sets, and you’re left walking on cobblestones and eating ice cream.

You were laughing at the ridiculous training regime that Coach was making the boys do in preparation for the state game.

“What is the benefit of running laps to the classroom and out to the field?”

“Coach makes us carry his stuff too and from his office,” Andrew mocks, “He makes it sound like an exercise, but really he just wants us to fetch his granola bars and energy drinks.”

You laugh again, “That sounds about right. How do you feel about the game?”

“Since switching to goalie it’s been hard figuring the plays out. But I think I’ve got the hang of it now.” He offers to throw away your empty ice cream cup and spoon.

The night so far had entailed a dinner at a little café outside the mall before looking in some of the stores for new summertime clothes. Andrew bought an outfit for you, shorts with little revealing tears in them and a strappy top that shows your scars way more than you’re used to.

You love that Andrew doesn’t question you about them.

Next was a stop at an ice cream parlor, taste testing different flavors before picking your favorites. The pair of you now walking around as the moon comes out, the trees adorned with white fairy lights.

You were walking so close to each other that you kept bumping arms. “Next time I want to show you my favorite antique shop downtown. It has some of the coolest things from every time period, and it’s connected to an old bookshop – one of the ones with tall ladders and a second floor just like in…”

“There’s going to be a next time?” Andrew says, sounding a little giddy. He was looking at you with pink dusting his cheeks.

You blush, “Is that alright?”

In reply, Andrew locks your fingers between his. “Very alright.” You stroll down the next street of cool fairy light, squeezing each other’s hands. “What were you saying about the old bookstore before I rudely interrupted you?”

You brush hair behind your ears, “Oh, just that it reminds me of the old bookstore from Beauty and the Beast… the one from her town.”

“You’re a fan of Disney?”

“Always,” you laugh, “With movies like The Princess and the Frog and The Emperor’s New Groove… how could you not be?”

Andrew snickers, “It’s because of Naveen, isn’t it?”

“Ah, Prince Naveen,” you groan, “You got me there.”

“Got to be honest though… Treasure Planet might be the best one yet.”

You pull on his arm, “I haven’t watched that in ages!”

Andrew side eyes you as his dimples come out, “So old antique shop and then movie night?”

You’re giddy at the thought of another date, “Sounds perfect.” You wander the streets just talking and laughing for another half hour before he offers to drive you home.

He holds your hand atop your lap the whole way.

Walking to your door, porchlight on as your parents wait for your return, you thank Andrew for a lovely evening.

“It’s nice after all the chaos the town’s been in the last month.”

He nods, “I had a really nice time with you, (Y/N).” He hands you the shopping bag with your new summer outfit, “I’ll text you a time for the next one.”

You smile wide as he takes a step closer, “I had fun too.” He was leaning down to your height, your chin rising to meet him.

In a quick mind-boggling moment, Andrew presses his lips to yours. He pulls away just an inch to see your reaction before moving further.

At your slight smile he leans in for more, kissing you more firmly and cupping your cheek. A sudden warmth blooms up your chest and into your face – and a beeping comes from your watch.

You break away suddenly, “God, sorry…” you cover the watch face with your hand. “Parents are waiting.”

Andrew licks his lips, all smiles as he says goodbye, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You slip inside and find your mom pruning a more successful chamomile plant at the dining table, no doubt planning to make tea with it. “Hello, honey…” she smirks, “Had a nice time?”

Checking your watch, you take a deep breath, your chest tight from something a little more than your racing heart. “The best.”

You had no idea that Stiles was burrowed beneath his blankets in bed, his phone lighting up his face is somber blue light. He watches the alert of your heart rate die down and knows in his gut that you probably had an exciting goodnight kiss on your date.

It sticks him with an ache he can’t shake for the rest of the night.

~~~

The weekend came with an invitation from Stiles in the most untoward manner. You were working on term projects for history and math when there was a sharp rapping on the window. Turning around you see Stiles waving on the roof.

Already smiling, you go to unlock the window and help him open it, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask you something.”

“And your phone is…?”

He shrugs, “More of a boring gesture than this.”

“And not coming to the door…?”

He screws his face up in a comical expression, “Again, this is a more interesting entrance.” And with a graceful slip of the hand, he falls forward through the window and crashes to the ground, “Ow!”

You grimace, hearing the floorboards squeak in the hall, “Shit, Stiles my parents will kill me if they knew you were sneaking up our roof!” In a frantic waving of your hands you shove him under your bed.

He does his now famous doggy-paddling across the hardwood floor.

“(Y/N), sweetie?” your mom calls as she enters your bedroom, “Oh – what was that noise? I thought you must’ve fainted and fell.”

You put your hands behind your back, looking around and finding Ollie still snoozing on the history textbook on your desk. He was so unbothered and not at all helpful. “Um… I dropped my math workbook,” you say quickly, “It’s pretty thick.”

Your mom looks to your hands to see the workbook and raises her eyebrows in question.

Choking on your words you look around and find the evidence on your bed covers, “See! I just picked it up when you walked in.”

Angela shakes her head, “Studying must be getting to you. Maybe you should take a break.”

You nod vigorously and thank your mother, closing your door and finding Stiles already trying to pull himself out from under your bed. His tongue was sticking out as he struggles.

“That was close,” you laugh, sitting on the floor with him, “Who knew you’d be such mischief.”

Stiles snaps his eyes to yours and flounders in his words, “I… you – did you…”

Your knees are inches away as you give him a quizzical look, “What?”

“My m-, my mom used to call me mischief.” His voice was quiet and wondering as he says it. He looks at you with a kind of awe; a freckle of sadness making his eyes glassy.

You suddenly feel warm, maybe from embarrassment – maybe from empathy. You couldn’t imagine a life without your mother. “A very fitting name for someone so mischievous.”

He chuckles, his smile subconscious, “That’s not the only reason she called me that. Um… I uh – my name isn’t actually Stiles.”

“I knew it,” you smirk.

“I actually have a polish name – my grandpa’s name. And it’s really hard to pronounce, so I’d pretty much stop at saying mischief cause that was as close as I could get.”

You raise your eyebrows, all curiosity, “And this name is…?”

He looks shy as he mumbles, “Mieczyslaw.”

“Mitchy-slav?”

He becomes shier as he repeats, “Yeah, Mieczyslaw. You can imagine why a young impressionable child would choose to go by something a little easier.”

You look at him fondly, “I like it. I like learning things about you.” You stand, taking his hand to pull him up, “Now what was the thing you wanted to ask me?”

“I wanted to know if you’d come hangout at my place tonight and meet my dad.”

“I already know your dad, Stiles.”

“Yeah, on a professional basis,” he mocks, “But… but you’ve never seen him without the badge on.”

You agree to come over that night and say you’ll bring a treat, which immediately strikes interest in Stiles. You plan accordingly, cooking all Saturday evening and dishing it in traveling containers. Placing them in a large take-out bag, you drive with your dad to the Stilinski bachelor pad.

You hope your gesture is kindly met.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles says with as much enthusiasm as one seeing someone for the first time in weeks. He’s awkward as he thinks of another way to greet you and is grateful when you go in for a hug. “Something smells delicious.”

You lift the large bag, “I told you I’d bring something.”

He leads you to the kitchen and you see Noah Stilinski looking over case files at the dining table. He looks stressed and wary until he spots you in the doorway.

“Ah, hello (Y/N). It’s nice to see you outside of the station…” he stands up, “… and outside of an ambulance.”

You laugh, going in for a hug that he wasn’t expecting, but loving it nonetheless. He holds you for a second longer as you say, “It’s about time.” He smells of whiskey. You gesture to the food in your bag, “I brought us dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Noah deadpans, “You spoil us.” He frantically tries to shuffle his case files into an orderly fashion, “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.” He moves his full whiskey glass and goes to put the decanter away.

“It’s okay,” you start to help, catching words like ‘murder’ and ‘Hale House.’ Stiles ran for some plates and forks. “There’s not always warning when Stiles makes plans.” You wonder how drunk the sheriff already is – the case must really be getting to him.

Noah chuckles, “You really know my son, then.” He seems awkward without the authority of his badge – like any other suburban dad. “He didn’t tell me you were bringing anything. Wait… did you cook that?” he points to your bag of containers.

“Yeah,” you say, helping Stiles set the table, “My specialty.”

Noah shakes his head, “I haven’t had a homecooked meal in…”

“Years,” Stiles snorts, “(Y/N) is the real deal, dad. Whatever she made will change your life.”

“He eats some chicken and rice and suddenly I’m a three-star Michelin chef.”

Stiles chortles, “Don’t forget those brownies. I’ll never be the same.”

You laugh as the boys sit down and you reveal the dinner you brought. A bowl of spicy Italian sausage, a plate of sliced garlic bread, and a dish of homemade mac and cheese topped with chopped parsley and green onion.

It was very quiet for the first few minutes, you placing a slice of garlic bread on each plate and ladling the cheesy noodles on top like an open-faced slider. You end with placing a few pieces of sausage on the side and passing the plates to the boys.

Stiles still can’t find the words as his dad says, “Did um…” he clears his throat. “Did Stiles tell you…”

You nod, feeling a presence there like nothing you had ever experienced before. “He said it was one of her signature dishes – a favorite of his.” You look to Stiles beside you and notice something glistening in his eyes.

You let them soak in the thoughtfulness of the gesture – what it actually signifies for them – and you start to eat on your own. Though it didn’t bring up any childhood memories of motherly love that it would for Stiles… it was still delicious.

“You’re right,” you say softly, “Like a fancy kids meal.”

Noah starts to chuckle, sniffing as he clears the emotion from his throat. He’s next to start eating his meal and the way he savors each bite is compliment enough. You wait for Stiles to start, very conscious of his quietness.

Stiles was never quiet.

He picks up the garlic bread laden with mac and cheese and takes a bite. He giggles like a schoolboy, “Wow.” He closes his eyes and you feel inclined to put your hand on his. Beneath the table, you wrap your fingers around his against his leg.

You rub your thumb in circles around his knuckles, watching him open his eyes and see tears there. “How is it?”

He sniffs, looking at you with wet eyes, “Like I remember.” He wipes at his face as you smile.

The rest of the meal continues with small talk and fond memories bringing up laughter. The sheriff finishes his whiskey and seems full and tired. Stiles keeps eating until there were no leftovers in sight.

He was now staring at the files of paperwork on the current Derek Hale case. You catch his eye and stand to wash dishes, “You finished, sheriff?”

“Oh no, I’ve got it,” Stiles slips out of his chair and takes the plates from your hands, “You just sit down, I’ll clean up.”

You smile to yourself as the sheriff looks more work wary, leaning on his hand and rubbing at his temples. “You bring out the best in him,” he says quietly, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him willingly wash a dish before.”

“He’s sweet,” you say. Realizing too late that that was another thing Mrs. Stilinski used to say all the time.

Noah nods, a little red in the cheeks from the alcohol, “He is. She always said so.”

You had a feeling the sheriff didn’t talk about his wife very much. “You seem a little put out.”

“It’s just this case,” he rubs hard at his face, “I’ve been staring at it for weeks and I know they’re all connected, but there’s something missing.”

“What are all connected?” you ask.

He points a finger at you, “I shouldn’t be telling you.”

“You know I’m not going to say anything, sheriff,” you say candidly, “I’m a hermit that makes very good mac and cheese in my spare time.”

He chuckles deep in his throat, quieter the drunker he is. “The thing is… the bus driver that got killed, he was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire.” He pulls on a paper with his fingertips, sliding it across the table.

You read it sideways as it moves. “’Terminated under suspicion of fraud.’”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed, he’s a convicted felon, history of arson. Two others in the woods… they had priors all over their records, including…”

“Arson…” you say to yourself. The true crime fan within you was a little tickled. It sounds like all the victims had something to do with the house fire six years ago. You look over your shoulder to see Stiles standing in the doorway. He had soapy water soaking the front of his shirt.

He puts a finger to his lips and listens.

“There’s just so many questions…” You don’t stop him for fear that he’ll register all that he’s telling you. “If Derek wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire, then why start with his sister? I mean, she had nothing to do with it. And why make it look like some kind of animal did it?”

You shake your head. It must be killing Stiles to know the real reason behind some of these things and not being able to share. He was protecting his dad from the supernatural. Just like how he was trying to protect you from it.

“You know the instances of wild animal reports were up 70% over the past few months? It’s like they’re going crazy and running out of the woods. I don’t know.” He hand a palm to his forehead, already dozing off.

You feel a little guilty as you lean in your chair.

“Hey, sheriff, can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart…”

You smile warmly as Stiles leans his head against the archway. “Would you be willing to call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night? It’s late and I don’t want to worry them. Stiles and I have some work to catch up on… our chemistry project and stuff. Now would be a really good time to get it done.”

The sheriff had a dopey smile on his face as he looks at you. He considers you while Stiles is having a heart attack in the kitchen.

“Sure thing,” he says, fumbling for his phone, “I know your parents worry about you.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you,” you say kindly, “Thank you, sheriff. And thank you for letting me stay.”

He scratches at his head as you stand, already dialing your mom’s number, “Hey, Angela. No, no – she’s fine. We’re taking good care of her… hey, listen. The kids want to work on some projects, and I wanted to offer to let her stay the night.” He rubs at his tired eyes, “Sure, sure… of course. It’s just late and I know Tom is at the firehouse tonight so… yeah, sure thing. We’ve got plenty of room. Yep, thanks Angela. Sure, bye bye.”

You’re walking towards Stiles with a stupid grin on your face, “Let’s go talk.”

“Night dad!” Stiles yells instantly, still in awe that you were able to pull that off.

Noah waves them off, “Don’t stay up too late.”

You pull Stiles’ hand and go upstairs. “I can’t believe that worked.” You find the bathroom but wait for Stiles to show you his room.

“Um… one second,” he holds up a finger and tells you to stay put. He rummages like a madman in his bedroom, knocking things over and slamming things shut. You picture mounds of clothes and old plates of food being shoved into the closet.

He’s breathing heavy when he opens the door again, “Okay, you can come in.” He holds open the door and you walk in to find a queen bed with ruffled blue sheets, a desk on the other side with bulletin boards hanging on the wall. One of the smaller ones had a blanket thrown over it.

You wonder how much decluttering Stiles did because it was still very messy. Papers, sticky notes, and red string were everywhere. “Cozy.”

He looks nervous, playing with his fingers and watching your expression, “I don’t… ha…” he fidgets with his soapy shirt, “I’ve never had a girl in my room before.”

You take a bow, “I’m honored.” You sit on the edge of his bed, “What your dad is investigating…”

“Derek… I know,” he sits at his desk chair. “He’s so close to figuring it all out. He just doesn’t know about the Alpha.”

“Was it bad of me to egg him on while he’s so clearly drunk?”

“No, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Exactly,” you deadpan, smiling. “If the Alpha is killing people responsible for the fire, then Derek siding with him at the hospital…”

“… is probably because he wants people to pay for the fire as well.”

You rub your legs down to your knees, “And the Alpha just wants to become powerful again in his revenge.”

Stiles was tapping his fingers against the desk, “So was there any other reason why you wanted to stay the night? Because I know for a fact you already finished our chemistry project and it’s incubating in the lab right now.”

“Well, there have been a couple things I wanted to talk to you about.” You sit cross legged on the mattress and say, “Coach has been talking to me about Scott failing his classes.”

“Big surprise,” Stiles scoffs, “The guy thinks he can be some werewolf savior and graduate high school at the same time.”

You wince, “Finstock made a deal with the office. Scott can’t go to the winter formal.”

“Because he’s failing?” Stiles gawks.

“They wanted to kick him off the team, but Coach said… some strange things… and made the dance agreement.” You tilt your head to the side, “Are you still planning on going?”

Stiles spins around in his chair, fumbling over his words, “Um, er – yeah, technically. I was s-still planning on it. Why… might I ask?”

You sigh, “Allison will need someone to ask her out.”

He was caught off guard, “I’m sorry, what? Me ask Allison to the dance.”

“It makes sense!” you say, “With Scott’s savior complex he’s going to want everyone under supervision in case the Alpha decides to take us out one at a time.”

There was a hesitance in the way Stiles kept spinning around in the chair. He seems grumpy, “Why can’t Jackson ask her?”

“You don’t want to go with Allison?’

“Well, I…” he was biting his lips, “I don’t know. Are you going?”

“I think Andrew is going to ask me on our next date.”

Stiles bangs a foot against the desk and nearly slips out of the chair, “A second date? Already?”

You smile, going a little red, “We had a good time and… we may or may not have kissed.”

A horrible sinking feeling enters Stiles’ stomach. His heart clenches painfully and the sudden desire to hurt Wickstrom came on hard and fast. “And… you liked it.”

“It was a nice change of pace from my usual,” you try to hide your smile, “I haven’t been kissed in a while.”

Stiles waves his hands around, “Woah, woah, woah… you’ve been kissed before? I thought you were a hermit that made mac and cheese.”

“And I have the occasional neighbor boy kiss me,” you laugh, “There was Easton from down the street when I was thirteen and then Adam who was visiting from San Fransico over the summer when I was fifteen. Not to mention, nimrod, that Scott kissed me just the other week.”

“Oh my god,” he wipes a hand across his face, “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Get people to kiss you?”

You squint your eyes, folding your arms, “Are you telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

Stiles squirms in his chair, swinging it back and forth. “Maybe.”

“Ah, Stiles!” you bounce on his bed, “That’s so sweet.”

He groans, “Don’t tell me it’s sweet. It freaking sucks. All of my friends are getting their jollies off and I am left here in the dust with the driest lips this side of the valley.” His arms hang limp at his sides, “Is it nice?”

You giggle, “It can be. I think it only ever is when you kiss someone you like. It’s just… god, it’s hard to explain.” But Stiles was leaning in like the most attentive student. “There’s something really vulnerable about it, which leaves you wide open to feel anything and everything. You’re scared to death of course, especially with someone you like. But the bliss you feel after doing it is like nothing else.”

Stiles purses his lips, “Is that how the Andrew kiss went?”

“Almost.”

That raises his eyebrows, “I thought you really liked him.”

“I do, but I kind of have this new rule since the summer with Adam from San Fransico,” you hold up a hand, “I can’t date seriously. I can’t get too involved with any guy. So I’ll have to tell Andrew to stop eventually if this keeps going well.”

Stiles frowns, a punch to the gut, “Why can’t you date seriously?”

“Personal choice.”

“Because of what?” You smile and he groans, “Let me guess, it’s another story for another day.”

You use a finger gun on him, “Precisely, you’re catching on.” But the smile starts to dip from your face as you look at him. You lick your lips and say, “How about this. If you don’t have your first kiss by junior year… I’ll kiss you.”

The chair creaks as Stiles nearly falls from it, feet kicking out, “What!?”

“I’ll kiss you. We’ll make a kiss pact. I don’t want you getting too far into high school without having been kissed. The first one is always nerve-wracking anyway. It probably won’t be as meaningful as getting surprised with it by someone you really like, but it might be the next best thing.”

Stiles was losing his marbles, little fireworks exploding behind his eyes and falling like sparklers into his chest. “Okay.”

You smile at his goofy expression, “Now, can I borrow those sweats again? And maybe a t-shirt?”

He was still looking at you with sparklers in his eyes, “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” He went to rummage through his dresser.

A few minutes later you were both in pajamas, having taken turns to use the bathroom to brush your teeth – you just using toothpaste and your finger – and standing in Stiles’ bedroom. You had dark sweats and an oversized shirt. With how broad Stiles’ shoulders were, the shirt hung low on your frame.

His throat was bobbing when he saw you standing there, pillows and blankets on the ground. “You good?”

You yawn, “Yep.” You meet him at the makeshift nest on the ground and nudge him, “Move please.”

“Oh, no this is for me,” he says, “You get the bed.” Standing so close to each other, you have to look up at him.

“I’m the guest, Stiles. You use your bed and I’ll count the dust bunnies under the bed.” You smile at the deep frown on his face.

He shakes his head, “Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you say, crawling onto his bed, “We can share.”

He chokes on his spit and starts coughing, “Share the bed?”

“Is that okay?” you look at him innocently.

That look combined with you wearing his clothes was sending him over the edge. His stomach was full of butterflies tickling the tightness in his ribcage. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. In one night he had a girl in his room, said girl promised to kiss him, and now wanted to share a bed with him.

“Um… I kind of sleep in the middle of the mattress. I don’t want you to wake up to me invading your personal space.”

You laugh, “That’s fine, I can just shove you away.”

He nods, but is lost for words, going to turn off the light while you get comfortable. He’s back in the darkness and hesitates, “Are you su…”

“Get in the bed, Stilinski,” you mumble, already buried in his woodsy honey scented sheets. You feel the mattress dip as he finds his pillow. His knee knocks into your leg, and he apologizes. He shuffles down further and pulls up the blanket, rubbing his arm against yours, and he apologizes again.

“It’s fine, Stiles,” you laugh, “We’re bound to touch being this close.”

He swallows hard, staring at the ceiling as you cuddle further into your pillow, blanket tucked under your chin. “Goodnight,” you mumble.

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, (Y/N).” In the dark of his bedroom and the warm, calm presence of you beside him, it gave him a sense of ease. He takes a deep breath and says, “Thank you for the dinner today. It… meant a lot.”

You hum in reply, “You’re welcome.”

The last thing he remembers is turning on his side to face you already asleep. Your mouth was a little open and the pillow was squashing your cheek. Your hair was wild behind you and the shirt you borrowed was low enough that he could see the scar above your heart. You look more beautiful than ever laying there.

He wanted to know what you were holding back. He wanted to know what he had to do to give you the same feelings he was having.

And with thoughts of you looking beautiful in his bed, he fell asleep too.

~~~

Hours later you wake groggily to a still dark room. Stiles was standing and pulling his shoes on, phone in his hand. You groan and shift the covers closer to your body.

“Where are you going?” you ask half-asleep.

Stiles freezes at your words, “Uh… werewolf business. You can just stay here…” he walks over to your nearly asleep figure, “I’ll come back later.”

You don’t reply and he thinks you’re already back to sleep. It makes him smile. He bends down to tuck the covers a little tighter around you and… he hesitates, looking at your face. He swallows hard and leans down to place a kiss to your head.

“Sweet dreams.”

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #okay j hannah #okayjhannah #fandomfantasia

174 notes · View notes