#and she managed to reply to her telling she was there. maybe. my mom wasn't sure if she'd heard right

[vitunhienokivi]

.

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic Pt.2

synopsis: you try to fix things with cady while maintaining your friendship with the plastics

pairing: regina george x fem!reader, elements of cady heron x fem!reader

words: 6.6k (6666 to be exact)

A/N - it’s here at long last besties!! get it while it’s hot because i might delete later idk how i feel about it

WARNINGS - swearing, toxic relationships and general toxicity, d-slur, and bullying

PREV //

come Sunday, you wake up with a throbbing head and zero energy left in your body but memories sit crystal clear. you remember Regina trying to come onto you. her scaring Cady away. Gretchen rubbing your back as you listen to her whine about Jason for the millionth time. weird night. you check your phone but don't bother to reply to anyone except Karen who wouldn't stop sending you explicit details about some reality show she was binging. but alas the weekend was over and you're forced to brave the embarrassment of going back to school after a party. happens every time. people do dumb shit and are forced to face it on Monday.

the first person you come across is none other than the red-headed new girl herself. you have got to imagine she is mad at you after what happened; the lies Regina told. it was not your fault but you should probably try and make peace.

"Hey! New girl," yelled down the hallway, you walk a little faster in order to catch up. you watch her glance around a little confused as you approach.

"Oh," her expression seems to neutralise as she realises it's you. "hi."

"did you have a good Sunday?"

"it was alright," the fact she was speaking to you was a good sign. "I spent it with my mom."

"cute," you flash a smile. Cady was clutching her books pretty tightly. "I thought we should maybe talk about Saturday."

"We don't have to to."

"but I want to," you insist. "please?"

"Regina already told me,"

"Regina is a liar," you blurt out. hopefully, that wouldn't get back to her. "I don't know what she said exactly but it's not true," she looks at you with curious eyes. "I wasn't stringing you along or anything,"

"Sure,"

"I like you, Cady. you're... different," you express. "I wanna be your friend. and I was really happy when you showed up at the party,"

"Really?"

"mhmm," you hum, nodding to prove your point. "cross my heart." you mime the action of drawing a cross across your chest. you're not sure they're gonna forgive you but the bell for homeroom would ring at any moment so time was running out.

"Okay," replied after a moment. a small smile that's quick to fade.

"do you want to finish working on our assignment later?" you ask.

"Sure," they shrug. "meet you out front?"

you're not entirely convinced you're forgiven but you'll take what you can get. you're about to respond when your eyes spot Gretchen amongst the crowd. you lock eyes for a second before she bolts in the opposite direction. with a heavy sigh, you charge after her.

"Gretchen." yelled down the hallway causing a few heads to turn. people naturally darted out of your way but you almost smashed into a few people. "Gretchen," is she getting quicker? "will you just stop?" the answer was apparently no because she just kept going until you manage to grab her arm forcing her to stop. "what the fuck?"

"oh hey, I didn't see you back there." she lies, offering a less-than-genuine smile.

"I was literally yelling your name?" your brow furrowed. you could almost see the gears turning in her head trying to come up with some kind of excuse.

"Sorry, I'm tired- mustn't have heard you." was that the best she could do? you just roll your eyes.

"Can you not tell Regina I was talking to Cady."

"Why?" she asks despite already knowing the answer.

"Please, Gretchen? it's really not a big deal, okay so let's just keep it between us."

"I said you should stay away from her and you ignored me."

"I know and you were probably right but," you shrug. "it's too late and besides, I have to do a presentation with her, that's why we were talking. you can even ask Karen."

"I won't tell anyone." that was a lie. She won't tell anyone except Regina obviously. always trying to be in her good graces.

"if you promise not to tell, I'll... tell Jason something bad about Taylor? like she has crabs or something?"

her eyes light up at the prospect. "really?"

you nod. Taylor had never liked you so you weren't exactly on the best of terms and if making up some rumour about her gets Gretchen off your back then great. "but you can't tell Regina, deal?"

"deal," Gretchen smiles brightly. thank fuck for that. you start walking together now. "so what happened at the party?"

"don't you already know?" you tease. "thought that pretty little head of yours knew everything."

"I'm working on it."

you shrug. she'd probably find out eventually. "nothing really. Regina told Cady some stuff about me."

"that you don't like her and are only pretending to be her friend?"

"so you did already know,"

"I don't know what you see in Cady."

"I don't know." she just wasn't like anyone else. a new avenue to discover. most of these people you've known for years. the bell rings out and suddenly you remember you were supposed to drop off a take-home quiz by homeroom today. you had actually done it but forgot it was in your locker. "oh shit,"

"What?"

"I just forgot to hand something in i'll see you later," with a quick wave goodbye, you rush off back the way you've come. it wasn't like you were bad in school or anything. just sometimes you'd forget to bring in homework. one... or four late quizzes later and suddenly Ms. Norbury is giving you extra work to make up for it. it's not like you have a life or anything. As you grab the paper from your locker, Karen Shetty emerges.

"Morning," sang dazzlingly as she shoved your locker door closed.

"good morning," you smile softly, a glance over her outfit. "you're particularly chirpy today and look great,"

a tiny theatrical gasp, she puts a playful hand over her chest. "thank you,"

"where did you get the cardigan?"

"thrifted it,"

"oooh, I love that," you say. "also it goes so well with that super cute bracelet you're wearing,"

"Aw thanks, my friend made it."

"that's so cute, she must be a really great friend," you tease.

"she is," Karen nods. "where are you headed?"

"I gotta drop this off to Ms.Norbury or I'll fail math,"

"Can I come?"

it wasn't exactly an exciting trip so you don't know why she would want to? plus you were late for homeroom now. "I guess?"

"did you have fun at the party?" Karen inquiries as you begin towards Ms Norbury's homeroom class.

"it was alright,"

"I heard you got into a fight with Regina,"

"hardly a fight," you sigh. it was gonna be a very long day. "it's fine. you know how she can be,"

"was it over Cady?"

"Why does everyone suddenly care about Cady?" you stress. "it really doesn't matter."

a shrug. "I heard from Gretchen that Connor is grounded now because he didn't tell his parents about the party and they found out because somebody was sick in like a vase or something,"

"ew," you giggle, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "like they just found cold vomit in a vase?"

"mhmm," Karen nods eagerly. you make a fake gagging action as you knock on the open door. why is it always so awkward to walk into an already full classroom? ms. Norbury invited you further inside and you can't help but look at the people staring at you.

"so you do know how to hand things in on time," you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "great. now if you can just do that all the time."

"I make no promises," you answer, placing your homework down on her desk. when your eyes meet Cady's she waves a little. you flash a smile.

"come see me after school and I'll let you know how you did and if I need anything else from you,"

"Okay," you sigh. wasn't your first extra credit quiz. nor your last probably. you leave the classroom quickly, grabbing Karen's hand. she'd been waiting at the door.

"lots of people in there,"

"yeah because we're supposed to be in homeroom," you advise her.

"I didn't hear the bell,"

oh, Karen. "just come on."

it was a rather lifeless day thank god. you were grateful for the peace. and ms. Norbury hadn't given you any more work. you still had your tutor sessions but they never bothered you too much. now you're sitting staring at your laptop pretending you're doing research. Cady is scribbling in her notebook. Once again you're bored. and you can't help but watch Cady and wonder if she really has forgiven you. sure you were together right now but only because of this stupid presentation. you sit up a little straighter, taking a sip from your water bottle. "are you mad at me?"

it's sudden and she seems perplexed as she glances up at you. "huh?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me"

"I'm not mad," she urges, going back to her little scribbling. "you said Regina was lying, I believe you."

"just like that?" it seemed too easy.

"just like that,"

"how do you know I'm not lying about Regina lying though?"

"I don't." a shrug, she looks at you. "I'm just trusting you so can we please get back on track." you're not sure you would forgive someone as easily as this. it seemed naïve. or maybe she was just a better person than you. either way, this was what you wanted so...

"This is so boring," you whine loudly, pushing your laptop away so you can dramatically collapse against the table.

"if you actually help instead of complaining, we'd get it done quicker."

"Cady," you sigh loudly. "let's not, I'm just here to be pretty, okay? I shouldn't be forced to do homework too."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you sit up properly once more. "ask away."

"Why do you hang out with Regina?" the question catches you a little off guard. why did she wanna know that?

"What does that have to do with the book?" you counter, a playful raise of your brow. "if you stayed on topic, we'd get it done quicker."

"I'm serious."

you shrug a little. "why wouldn't I? She's like one of my best friends."

"why though? I've seen the way she treats you,"

"you just don't get Regina," very few people did. sure she was kinda mean and pushy, you'd never deny that but the rest of the school didn't get to see her other side. which was also kinda mean but a tad softer. the blonde was fierce. if someone fucked with you, or Karen, or even Gretchen, she'd go to war. you've watched her destroy girls just to prop Gretchen up to Jason. maul boys for making fun of Karen. you only got away with half the shit you did because you were friends with Regina. maybe she kept you around because you showered her with love and attention but she, in her own way, gave it right back. "she can be a lot but she's really cool."

"she's horrible to literally everyone."

"yeah but that's like kinda funny," Cady gives you a look suggesting she doesn't agree which was fair but she didn't exactly pick the nicest people to be friends with. Damian was funny in class and you liked to tell him gossip that Gretchen told you. you never really spoke to Janis too much but you've seen her around. heard what she says about you. She makes jokes right to your face. "don't act like Janis doesn't do the exact same thing. why do you hang out with her?"

"That's different,"

"is it?" you challenge. "or is Regina just popular?" Cady seems to not have an answer because she goes back to the book. "she's my friend and I like her. simple as."

"I'm sorry for asking,"

"Don't worry about it," you weren't particularly angry. you knew how people viewed Regina. a mixture of high admiration and fear. "So did you enjoy your first party?"

"yeah. not exactly what I was expecting,"

"they're not all like that," you urge. "sometimes they're fun. sometimes you wanna stab yourself in the eye to get out of it."

"did you have fun?"

"fun is not the word I would use but it was an experience," After Cady left you kind of just sulked with Gretchen until Karen found you and insisted you had to dance together. you spent the rest of the night with her. "I'm happy you came. I wish Regina hadn't messed everything up."

"sorry I left."

"you don't have to apologise." you smile. "we're hanging out now even if you're making me do homework. and there's always next time."

"I'm not making you do homework," Cady argues. you just smile. shuffling along the bench so you're right beside her. She has the book open in front of her and a notebook full of scribbles. you repeatedly tap the notebook with your finger.

"Are these not notes for our project? is that not homework?"

"yeah but these are my notes," she expresses, snatching up her notebook to place on the side away from you. As your eyes meet, you can almost pinpoint the exact moment she gets flustered. a dusting of pink gracing her cheeks. "you're just fucking about."

a dramatic gasp before a smile takes over. "I would never."

Cady smiles and before you have time to react she is leaning in to connect your lips in the softest of embraces. it reminds you of the first time Regina kissed you. only it never had the chance to become anything more before you pull back.

"Sorry- I didn't. I don't know why I did that." that dusting of pink is now a deep shade of red. panic in her voice. eyes firmly on her homework. you're unsure of what to say exactly. you liked Cady. maybe even the same way she apparently liked you. but you just weren't sure yet.

"It's alright, don't worry about it," you express. "uh... should we get back to the book?"

you weren't mad or upset with Cady. her kissing you had just left you feeling... weird? so even as you parted ways and you got texts later in the evening, you couldn't bring yourself to reply. you just needed some time to think.

Lunchtime is weird. Everyone is quiet. Painfully quiet. Karen and Gretchen are just eating their lunch. Regina is staring at the label of her yoghurt. you're sat there anxiously like a child bursting with energy. this was so unlike them. "can someone just talk already," you blurt out. a little startled, everyone looks at you. "sorry. just nobody is talking and it's freaking me out. normally Gretchen never shuts up."

"why are you even here?" Regina asks, twisting the dessert in her hand. you wish she'd just eat it instead of inspecting it.

"why wouldn't I be?"

"shouldn't you be over there with the pyro-dyke and her band of freaks." her head nods in the direction she means but her eyes never leave that stupid label. the nickname referred to Janis and Band of Freaks must mean Cady and Damian.

a sigh. "you're being ridiculous,"

"I'm being what?" Regina asked firmly. her yoghurt placed down slowly as her eyes zone in on you. sharp and daring. Karen gently nudges your leg with hers but you're not sure if it was an accident or a warning. you glance at her and then at Gretchen who is keeping her eyes firmly on her food.

"nothing. sorry," you say softly.

"stand up," voice low but commanding. you can't tell if she's serious so you remain seated. watching her. "stand up. now." she was louder now. attracting attention. putting on a show as various people looked to see what the commotion was. "you wanna run around with freaks and lesbos, then go."

"Are you-"

"go." you swallow hard. willing yourself not to crumble under the pressure of everyone's gaze. you could argue back but you know better than to challenge her when she's this pissed off. so you just push up, grab your tray and leave the table. you lock eyes with Janis along the way who is next to Cady. you can't join them like Regina so angrily implied, it'd just make things worse for them and yourself.

your last few classes of the day are spent wondering what you've done to piss off Regina today. you've hardly even seen her. maybe Gretchen told her about the hallway yesterday? She promised not to plus this seemed like a massive overreaction. you're at your locker, grabbing your stuff when Gretchen approaches. "Regina said if you can behave yourself you're allowed to come shopping with us,"

"hello to you too Gretchen," you slam the metal door shut. "no thank you.."

"Seriously?"

"she basically banished me from the cafeteria today, why would I wanna go anywhere with her?" you ask but it was mostly rhetorical as you start down the hall.

"you know she was only joking," the brunette trails after you.

"was she? felt pretty real to me,"

"that's just her humour," Gretchen assures you. "you have to come. Regina will be upset,"

"Regina doesn't have emotions," you fire back, pushing through the double doors, you almost collide with another person. "Jesus, watch out."

didn't take long to realise who it was. "it's Karen actually,"

"I know your name, baby" you pat her shoulder. "why are you right outside the door?"

"waiting for you," she takes your hand. "we're going shopping."

"I don't wanna do that," you express but Karen is already leading you towards Regina's jeep. "Karen, let go" you groan but put up little resistance. the blonde is leaning against the side eyes on you as you're being dragged across the front lawn.

"you found her then," the blonde comments, pushing away from the metal of her jeep. "thought we'd have to start putting up lost dog posters or something."

"why am I even here?"

"Isn't it obvious- get in the car." Regina climbs in and everyone else does the same. "we need someone to carry the bags."

why were you here? why had you given in so easily? You didn't even want to go shopping and now you're staring at yourself in the wall-length mirror of a dressing room, trying on outfits. with a heavy sigh, you step through the curtain

"what do you think?"

"you look great," declares Gretchen.

"beautiful," an eager Karen. She had picked it out.

Regina turns from the large mirror at the end of the space where she was inspecting the dress she was trying on to you. "ew." is all she says before turning back.

"yeah, I never liked it," Gretchen remarks quickly.

"try this," Karen shoves a hanger in your hand before pushing you back towards the dressing room. you stare at your reflection once more. you didn't think it looked too bad but maybe Regina was right. it wasn't exactly your style but that's because Karen picked it. it was more you than most of the outfits she tried to get you to wear... it did sit a little weirdly. you can hear Regina talking to the girls, sending them each on an errand. and then it's silent. you begin to undress when the blonde calls your name. you stop what you're doing. She says it again and you walk out.

"what's up?" you question cautiously. you weren't about to let your guard down around her.

"what do you think of this dress?" the blonde spins to face you. hands on her hips. your brow furrows. why did she want your opinion? your eyes drift. taking in Regina. notice every curve. She really was a sight to behold.

"looks good."

"That's all I get?"

"What were you expecting?"

The girl turns back. "A shower of complements but guess you're not even good for that anymore."

"I said it looks good?"

"I'm done with you now. go change out of that ugly outfit already."

you wanna say something but you decide to just bite your tongue and head back into the dressing room.

come the weekend, Regina is out of town with her parents which means you've ended up with babysitting duties. Gretchen and Karen had both decided they were coming over to your place. you didn't mind. so now you're loitering on the bed with your back against your headboard scrolling through your phone. Karen is snuggled up in half a blanket using your lap as a pillow also scrolling through her phone. it's silent but comfortable. Gretchen vanished about ten minutes ago and hasn't returned. "do we have to start hanging out with Cady?"

"What?" you glance down from your phone. 

"I don't wanna hang out with her, she's creepy."

"that's not very nice, Karen," you scold. "but no. why would we?"

"Because you're like a thing now," Karen answered, pressing her phone to her chest. She meets your stare. "you kissed"

"excuse me?" your heart practically skips a beat. you undoubtedly hadn't told anyone that Cady kissed you and you're almost certain she hadn't.

"what? Gretchen told us that she saw you and Cady making out after school on Monday," Gretchen fucking weiners. of course. but how did she know?

"by us you mean?"

"me and Regina," fuck.

"When was this?" you wonder. and as if summoned on cue, Gretchen emerges through the doorway and you can't help but raise your voice. "you told Regina I was making out with Cady?"

"What?"

"Karen told me so don't lie," you demand. "I thought we had a deal."

"I didn't tell her about the hallway."

"Are you stupid?" you press. Gretchen sits on the edge of your bed, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," a hefty sigh. the girl shuffled up the bed so she was beside you. "are you mad at me?"

"Obviously."

"but you love me?" you don't reply and she nudges your shoulder with hers. "right?" you stay silent, glimpsing at her withan empty expression. you did love her but you were pissed off with her right now.

"look at this," Karen shoves her phone straight up and into your view. it shows a picture of herself. you assume she had just taken by the outfit.

"adorable," you smile walmly but it quickly fades. Gretchen had very much fucked you over. That day with Cady, you hadn't seen anyone around other than a few stray students. why was Gretchen even still there? and why hadn't she asked you about it before telling Regina?

"did you see what Kelsey posted today?" Gretchen questions, pulling out her phone. "it's so pathetic. like she's clearly doing it just for attention." you let your head fall back against the wall as Gretchen proceeds to talk in your ear. your mind drifts to the day in the cafeteria when Regina embarrassed you in front of everyone. you had thought it was an extreme reaction to a conversation in the hallway but turns out it was because of the kiss. was she that jealous of the idea of you and Cady? That made little sense when she was running around with Shane.

"Does Regina hate me?"

"of course not," Gretchen insists, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. "you know anger is basically her love language. she just cares a lot."

"Regina thinks Cady is a freak," Karen contributes. "and that you hanging out with her makes us look bad."

"We were just doing homework."

"I saw you kiss her," Gretchen retorts.

"she kissed me,"

"you have been hanging out with her a lot," Karen states

"and you invited her to Connor's party," Gretchen resumes.

"yeah but..." you trail off because you really don't have a comeback. All those things were very much true. "this is stupid."

"if you had just listened to me-"

"Jesus, we get it Gretchen" you huff sharply and then feel bad for it. "sorry but you have to stop saying that- I should be able to talk to a girl without it being the end of the world."

"maybe talk to less weird girls?" Karen proposes brightly. "like me.... or Gretchen.... oooh or Regina."

"Thanks for the suggestion." you tap her nose gently, making her face scrunch up. "but I meant other than you three."

"you can talk to whoever you want," Gretchen reassures you, dropping her head to your shoulder. "as long as Regina approves."

"you sound insane,"

Gretchen shrugs. Karen's attention has returned to her phone. and you were suddenly so aware of how insane being friends with Regina George truly is.

the bell for first period has you walking down the hallway towards your history class. you share it with Gretchen who you haven't spoken to since Sunday. you're still mad at her.

"Hey, can we talk?" your brow furrows a little. it was Regina. and you were still mad at her too for last week.

"I have to get to class," you huff but she doesn't take the hint; instead she takes your hand and drags you straight into the nearest closet. it smelt like chemicals, dust and... vanilla. you imagine the vanilla is the girl, not the room.

"what the hell?"

"Just give me a minute,"

"why are we in a closet?" you wonder. it was cramped. a painfully buzzy lightbulb hung over head, flickering through an array of intensities. shelves full of supplies.

"I'm sorry, okay?" your eyes were looking anyway but at her until now. staring into blue-green eyes. did she just... apologise for something? was this a dream? your dreams never normally included Regina apologising but that seemed like the only way this could be real. "I'm sorry I got mad over you and Cady. you've just been acting weird since she joined"

"Are you... fucking with me right now?""

"what? I can't apologise?"

"I never said that," you did imply it but you would never say it. "I'm just confused." a shrug of your shoulders.

"I just don't like it. I don't like her," she wasn't about that. you weren't confused about her feelings towards Cady. you were confused as to why she was apologising for it? also, why do you have to do this in the closet? couldn't you have done this in a place with such a dizzying aroma? "I get like angry when I see you together. and then when Gretchen told me you kissed her-"

"she kissed me."

"Whatever," a dismissive wave. "I mean, it just was a lot y'know."

"not really" Your brow furrows.

"you're not that fucking dense, are you?" as the blonde takes a step forward, you take a step back crashing into a bucket and mop. She grabs your wrist. maybe an attempt to save you? "careful." said much softer. caring almost. it makes you suspicious. more so than the apology you hardly believed in the first place.

"we're gonna be late for class," you answer quietly. you try to pull your arm away but her grip doesn't falter. it's firm and tight; possessive almost. "Regina, please,"

"you promised to stay away from her," Regina mentions softly. you think back to that day. Regina straddling your lap. hands on your chest. moving against you. soft lips. it makes you blush. she pulls you closer. "promised you didn't like her more than me." her other hand gently cups your cheek. "was all that a lie?"

"no," you shake your head slow and stern. "no. i-"

"you kissed her." stated firmly.

"she kissed me," you argue back. her fingers press a little harder into your cheek.

"don't remember asking," expressed as she leaned in close. hot breath hitting your skin. vanilla fills your nostrils. "tell me you love me," whispered. you swallow hard. "please."

"Regina..." grip on your wrist tightens.

"go on."

"I... love you," you sound more confused than sure.

"more than cady?"

"you're my best friend,"

a once gentle hand now grips your chin. "more than Cady?" asked again.

"uh... more than Cady,"

"say you're obsessed with me." her lips loom mere inches from yours threatening a kiss.

"I'm... obsessed with you." her eyes are so intense, it's kinda scary. it's always treacherous being so close to her.

"Good," her lips press into yours. fierce and strong. but gone just as quickly. "I'll see you at lunch." she lets go and leaves without another word. The door to the closet closes with a click. insane. you remain for a few minutes. a little lost. a little confused. then you leave for class.

sat at a table under the beautiful shade of a massive umbrella during your free period. Cady is opposite. Gretchen was supposed to be here too but you don't know what happened to her. probably worried about sitting with Cady. "why are you doing work?"

"It's a study period. you should also be doing work,"

"It's almost lunchtime don't be ridiculous," you groan loudly. the bell rings mere moments later bringing a smile as the animals are released from their classrooms out into the wild. "see."

"you didn't do anything,"

"never do. That's half the fun of a free period before lunch."

"hey baby," that was Regina's voice. you look up promptly, half expecting her to make a comment or demand your presence but instead, she takes a seat right beside you.

"Hello," you try not to think about earlier. about how weird this is and focus on the fact she seemed to be in a good mood. her arms snake around you, drawing you back into her embrace.

"Cady,"

"hi Regina,"

"you look good today," Regina comments. your brow furrows. she was being weirdly affectionate. should you be concerned? probably but you were gonna enjoy her openness. the last week had been so weird and you kinda of just wanted things to go back to normal. and while this wasn't exactly normal, you prefer this to outward anger.

"thank you,"

"Now say it back," you roll your eyes but wear a playful smile.

"you look radiant Regina," said playfully. She gives you a quick squeeze and you finally settle in her embrace.

"I know," hummed in your ear. "so do you wanna come to mine after school?" muttered in your ear.

"what's the occasion?"

"I want you to," Regina declared. "why does it matter? you're coming over."

"am I now?" you ask playfully.

"We should get food," Regina lets go and gets up. you watch her for a moment expecting her to bark a demand but she doesn't. she just walks away. it freaks you out so you bid farewell to Cady and go scampering after the blonde.

"you good?"

"course," she states as you fall in step.

"you're being strange," you observe. "I was half expecting you to drag me away from that table."

"what's the point?" she asks. "you'd just go running back to the little nerd."

"no running is involved."

"running. skipping. drooling." the blonde teased. when you enter the lunch room, Gretchen is already sitting alone at your usual table. "like a love-sick little puppy dog."

"Okay, ew, no,"

"where have you been?" Gretchen wonders as you approach. She knows where you've been. you text her.

"no love involved whatsoever,"

"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen asks.

"no one,"

"I got tater tots," Karen announces as she zooms past with a try, taking a seat at your lunch table.

"oooh, they have tots today? let's go get food," you grab Regina's hand and start pulling her towards the food. Gretchen comes scrambling after the two of you. "I'm starving."

"aren't you always," Regina comments. the sea parts as she leads the way to the front of the line. it's unfair. but you never call her out. you always take advantage.

"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen repeats

"nobody, we moved on,"

"god keep up Gretchen," Regina huffs. you're so excited about your tater tots you practically run back to the table with your little tray. your two friends in toe. you take your usual seat next to Karen. Regina sits opposite with Gretchen.

"Cady keeps looking over here," Karen announces, popping a tot in her mouth. "it's creeping me out."

"she's so weird," Regina sighs. "if she's anything like her freaky friends it's because she's obsessed with our dear sweet puppy,"

"she is not obsessed with me,"

"This is what happens when you give losers attention, " Regina persists. "they think they have a shot. soon she's gonna think she can just come over and talk to us and it's your fault."

"Firstly, she would never do that. She's intimidated by you," you express. "secondly. she is sweet, you gotta lay off her."

"as she should be," the blonde looks disgusted. "also gross. She's so fuckin weird."

"you guys are being mean,"

"Is it mean if it's true?"

"still yes," you insist. "I like cady."

"We know," Gretchen states. Regina shoots her a dirty look.

"you don't get to talk Gretchen," Regina spits. "you never shut up about Jason like he's not disgusting."

"Cady would be cute if she just learnt how to dress. and do her makeup," Karen interjects.

"I don't even think that would help."

"Can we stop talking about her please?"

"don't wanna hear us shit talk your girlfriend."

"not my girlfriend." you argue. "but I would like this to end. quickly. let's go back to Jason that dude fuckin sucks."

"he's so sleazy," Karen adds. and the conversation flows into something other than you and Cady. thank god.

you're lying on Regina's couch. in Regina's room. alone. after school. you expected Karen and Gretchen to be here too but alas they weren't here. after this morning, you wouldn't be surprised if this was some cult worship ceremony. the door creaks open and in walks the infamous blonde. a glance before going back to your phone.

"my mum wants to know if you're staying for dinner,"

"am I?" you don't even know why you're here. and knowing Regina she could kick you out at any moment.

"I said yeah but you don't have to," a shrug.

"guess you're not mad at me anymore then,"

"When was I mad at you?" she questions, sitting down on her bed.

"When are you ever not?" you tease. "sometimes I think you hate me."

"if I hated you, you wouldn't be here," the blonde comments.

"you've been so short with me recently." you sit up properly.

"Because you've been acting different." the girl insists. "and it's weird. and I don't like it. I want you to go back to how you were."

"I don't even know how I've been acting different?" you lean back. "I think you're just jealous."

"jealous of what?"

"Cady." you see her eyes narrow. jaw tense.

"you are obsessed with her."

"not obsessed," you correct. "I don't even know what is going on between me and Cady."

"but you like her?"

you shrug. "do you like her?"

"no," it makes you smile for some reason. same old Regina. number one cady hater. "not even a little. she's strange. can't dress for shit. really awkward."

"tell us how you really feel," you chuckle a little.

"you'll just call me mean," like she wasn't already being mean.

you shrug. "I like when you're mean."

"I know," a smile quirks at her lips. the blonde pats the space next to her. "come here,"

"why?"

"Just come here," a dramatic sigh. you push up and cautiously walk over to sit down next to her. "why are you acting so scared of me?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "kinda expecting you to push me off the bed or something."

"why would I do that?" her brows furrowed.

"Because you're evil," a smirk slowly takes over her lips. you nudge her softly with your shoulder.

"I love it when you call me evil,"

"I know," you reply. "because you're obsessed with me."

"you wish."

"I don't have to wish," you tease. "because you're obsessed with me."

"you're really pushing your luck here," Regina comments. "stop." her tone suggested she was done playing. the blonde falls back against her bed. you just look at her as she starts typing on her phone. "and stop staring at me freak."

"but you're so pretty,"

"your girlfriend wouldn't like you saying that."

"not my girlfriend," you insist. "no more than you are." the blonde doesn't respond and you both fall into a comfortable silence. you lie down beside her. "why did you invite me over?"

"make out. prove a point. why do you think i asked in front of cady?" you just shrug. the girl sighs loudly and discards her phone off to one side before rolling onto her side to look at you. you just turn your head to face her.

"for someone so smart, you really are stupid," you'd be offended but there was hardly a point. she just watches you, watching her. you crack under her gaze and look away but she just reaches over and forces you to look at her. "do you know why I keep you around?"

"Because you love me?" said playfully but quietly. you know it's not the answer she was looking for.

"I like the way you look at me," she admitted quietly. "everyone stares at me but you... you look at me like I'm the only person in the entire world." she went on. "like you just can't get enough." you don't know what to say. Regina was like nobody you had ever met but in a different way to Cady. She just commanded attention. a beauty beyond words. and sometimes you wonder why you ever caught her eye. the girl shuffles closer now. "you can run around with freaks. you can be confused about Cady. but at the end of the day, none of it matters." that hand on your jaw loosens and begins to trail down over your neck. "you'll always come running back to me."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's in the way your breath hitches when I'm close. the way your eyes linger when I walk away. the way you so easily melt under my touch," her voice was gentle but taunting. her hand slipping lower and lower down the length of your body. you could hear your heart beating loudly in your chest. an onset wave of heat flushing your cheeks. "I can say or do whatever I want," her hand stops at your thigh, squeezing roughly. body leaning into yours. pressing you further into the plush fabric of her bed. "and you'll always be mine." whispered sharply before her lips meet yours and the fire makes the rest of the world melt away. you reach up to draw her closer. deepen the kiss and the way she groans makes your head spin. but then she pulls away unexpectedly. "oh I forgot to mention Shane is coming over after dinner so you gotta be gone by then. Cool?" you can feel the emotions stirring. it's weird and confusing. Shane's name fills you with anger; annoyance even. through no fault of his own. was she fucking serious? but at the same time you couldn't move. maybe a wiser person would have stopped everything right here. walked away with their dignity in their hands. Cady was probably a safer option. she liked you. and maybe you liked her too. but there was just something about Regina. being on her good side meant the world worked for you too. it was a world you'd become so accustomed to, you can't imagine it any differently. you can't imagine a life without the blonde. you didn't want to leave. you wanted to chase the high of each kiss. the pain as her nails dig into your skin. the firey mess of being with her.

"cool." you nod simply, pulling her back into the kiss. dignity was overrated when it came to Regina George anyway.

[firewasabeast]

The Aftermath

Part 2 of my Meeting the Parents series. Each part can be read individually, but it's better together. Here's part one, you can read part two here or on ao3.

Summary:

After Tommy's dinner with the Buckley's goes surprisingly well, Buck's issues with jealously causes his and Tommy's first big fight.

“So,” Buck began nosily as Tommy drove them toward the loft, “what were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, you know, they were telling me all about baby Evan. How much you loved running around the house naked, stuff like that.”

“Okay, that was only for like six months and I wasn't even two and-”

Tommy laughed, reaching over and taking Buck's hand. “I'm kidding, Evan. I didn't even know that was a thing you did. However, now that I do, I will be using it against you in the future.”

“Ugh,” Buck whined. “Come on, Tommy. What'd you guys talk about?”

“Not a whole lot, really. Your mom asked if I actually went by Thomas, and when I said no she started calling me Tommy. Then, she told me I could call her Margaret.”

“Seriously?” Buck eyed him, unimpressed. “That's it?”

“Actually,” Tommy spared a glance in Evan's direction, “she told me a little more than that.”

“Yeah? Like?”

“Like, that I- I'd probably be calling her mom soon anyway.”

Buck was glad he wasn't the one driving, because if he had been, he probably would have swerved right off the road and into a ditch. “R- Really? She said that?”

“Mhm. That's what she said right before you came out. She was sweet about it, seemed happy. May have been the wine though.”

“No, she... I'm sure she meant it.” Buck turned his head to stare out the window, hoping Tommy didn't notice the fact his hand was getting a little sweaty.

“Hey,” Tommy squeezed his hand, “it's not like she's planning our wedding or anything. She was being nice. Probably wanted to make me feel more comfortable with calling them by their first names.”

Buck managed a quick smile in Tommy's direction before returning his gaze to the highway. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.”

*****

Tommy entered the loft behind Buck, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You okay?” he asked, resting a hand against one of Buck's dining room chairs. “You were quiet most of the way home.”

“I'm fine,” Buck lied, plastering on a smile. “Just tired. Family time can get kinda exhausting for me sometimes.”

"Mm." Tommy set the keys on the table and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I gotta make a reminder to reserve a chopper in December. Phillip and I are gonna go to a Lakers game in Vegas.”

“Y- You made plans with my dad?”

“Mhm. Your parents are coming back in town in a couple months and your dad said he'd get tickets if I flew us there.” Tommy shrugged, “Seemed like a pretty good deal to me.”

“Mm, yeah. Yeah, it is. Sounds fun.”

Tommy looked up at Evan from his phone, noting the expression on his face. “I'm sure he'll get extra tickets if you wanna go? Maybe Howie could come along too. I just figured since basketball isn't really your thing...”

“No, no. I- You're right. I wouldn't wanna go. You two should go together. Bond,” he replied, before muttering out loud enough for Tommy to hear, “Since you'll be calling him dad soon anyway.”

Tommy sighed, putting his phone away. “I knew something was wrong. Come on, Evan, hit me with it. What'd I do?”

Buck headed to the fridge to grab a beer. “You didn't do anything.”

“Obviously, I did. You're clearly pissed at me.”

Buck shrugged. “I just think it's weird, okay? It's weird that my dad wants you to fly him around to basketball games. It's weird you were talking to my mom about marrying me when we don't even live together. Hell, we've never even talked about marriage.”

Tommy shook his head. “God, Evan, it's not like I'm dragging you down the aisle right now.” The words came out harsher than he intended. “And we didn't talk about marriage. It was something she said in passing. Sorry for being happy she thinks we'll last.”

“Forget I said anything, okay?”

“No, I'm not gonna do that. This is a really weird thing for you to be mad at me about.”

Buck slammed the bottle down on the counter so hard it caused a loud clang. “I told you I'm not mad at you!”

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “So you yell for fun now?”

"I'm not yelling!" he yelled. He took a breath, collecting himself before he continued. "I just don't wanna talk about it right now."

"Well that's too bad, because I do wanna talk about it. You can't get angry with me for things I didn't even say and then not explain why you're mad. That's not how this works."

Leaving the beer behind, Buck headed for the living room. “You wouldn't understand,” he said, waving Tommy off.

“Yeah, that's what I'm trying to do.” Tommy followed behind him until Buck grumpily turned back to him. “Gotta be honest, did not think you'd hate the fact that I got along with your parents. You were the one making a presentation on how to interact with them. Would you have preferred if I acted like an ass? Stepped on their toes? Made them uncomfortable?”

“I don't know, maybe.”

“You cannot be serious.”

"Well, it would've been better than you sucking up to them. Basically kissing the ground they walk on."

"Maybe you're right. We shouldn't be having this conversation right now." Now it was Tommy's turn to walk away and Buck's turn to follow. They made it to the dining room table before Tommy swirled back around to him. “You know, you are acting like such a child, Evan. Maybe I should call Howie and set up a playdate for you and Jee.”

“They're just trying to replace Daniel with you!” The accusation escaped him before his brain caught up with his mouth. The way Tommy stared in shock should have been enough to stop him, but it didn't. “That's all this is, so, you know, enjoy it while it lasts! As soon as they realize you're not what they imagined him to be, you'll be left behind.”

He'd gone too far. He'd probably gone too far a few minutes ago, if he were being honest, but now he'd definitely gone too far.

Tommy's face fell. Buck wasn't sure he'd ever seen him so visibly shaken before. “Wow. Okay. Uh, I don't... I think I'm gonna go home for tonight, Evan.” He picked his keys up from the table and headed for the door.

Half of Buck wanted to beg for him to stay. The other half wanted to yell and tell him that's fine, he wanted to be alone anyway!

He settled on not saying anything at all.

He kept his mouth sealed shut as Tommy left. He didn't even slam the door behind him. Buck wished he would have.

*****

It took three series of knocks before Tommy answered the door. He was wearing a sleeveless tank and a pair of boxers, his hair wildly free of product. There were dark circles under his eyes as he stared at Buck indignantly. “It's three in the morning.”

“I know.”

“Why are you here at three in the morning?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause, then Tommy moved out of the way so Buck could come inside. Tommy closed the door behind him, but stayed in the entryway. If this was going to turn into round two, he wasn't sure how long Evan would be welcome to stay. “Did you forget you have a key?” he asked.

“Yeah, sneak into the forty year old army vets house in the middle of the night,” Buck answered with a nervous smile. “I'd give you a heart attack... or get shot one.” He was trying to lighten the mood, but Tommy couldn't quite find the humor in the moment.

“Why are you here?” he reiterated.

Buck sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Couldn't sleep,” he admitted. “Could... Were you asleep?”

Tommy knew what the question really meant. Were you able to get rest after what happened earlier? Were you able to let this go?

“No, I wasn't asleep.”

“Oh, okay, um. Good. I mean, not good. But, good that I didn't wake you, I guess. Even though-”

“Evan, where's this going?”

“Can we,” Buck motioned toward the living room. “Can we sit? Talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” Tommy breathed out. “Of course.”

They moved to the living room, sitting stiffly on opposite ends of the sofa. There was an awkward minute of silence before Buck turned toward Tommy and began to ramble, “I'm sorry I acted like an idiot. I didn't mean the things I said, I swear. I think I got so jealous that you got along so easily with my parents that it made me feel, I don't know, insecure. Then I took it out on you, which wasn't fair. I was such a dick after a perfect night-”

“Evan.”

“-and you didn't deserve that. I know I screwed up. I- I know I did. I practically maimed you with my words the same way I maimed Eddie when I was jealous of him, and I-”

“Evan!”

Buck stopped. He looked up to see Tommy had turned toward him, watching him closely.

“What?” he asked.

“I forgive you.”

If things weren't so serious, Tommy might've laughed at the shocked expression on Evan's face. “Yo- You do?”

Tommy nodded. “I do.” He let out a sigh, scooting closer to Evan, “And I'm sorry, too. I just- I didn't think. I wanted to make a good impression, and I was so happy everything went well. I didn't think about what it would all mean to you. I'm sorry.”

“Oh God,” Buck dropped his head down. “I may actually be the worst person in the world. Tommy, I- I'm not mad they like you.”

“Evan.”

“No, really. I promise, I'm not mad. I'm,” he let out a laugh, “I'm thrilled. They have never really shown an interest in my life, not until the last few years. Even then, I never thought to introduce anyone to them. The fact they get along with you, it... it's incredible. See, it- like I said before, it's my jealousy. It's the fact it doesn't come that easily for me. I acted stupid, and immature, but I'm not mad at you. I'm not even mad at them. I'm just... sad, that it's not that way with me. And I took it out on you. You have no reason to be sorry. I'm sorry.”

“You told me about all the crap they put you through growing up, and I hate that they did that. It's not fair to you or Maddie. But you said they were trying to be better,” Tommy explained, “and they seemed so nice tonight. They liked me, or at least I think they did, and I was happy. It felt good, and I got caught up in that.”

“They did like you,” Buck assured him. “They do like you. A lot. And that's a good thing. I swear to you, Tommy, it's me. It was so easy for you to fit right in. I mean, I'm their kid and they had to go to therapy with me just to accept that. It... I don't know, seeing you guys getting along, I- it was a me problem, not you. Not them.” He moved himself closer to Tommy now, so they were both nearly in the center of the couch.

“I don't have to go with your dad,” Tommy said. “Really, I don't mind. And I know I probably freaked you out with the stuff your mom said, but I really think she was trying to be polite-”

“Tommy, no, I-” he reached out for Tommy's hands, who folded them into Evan's easily, “I want you to go with my dad. I want you guys to get along and have a good time. And the stuff my mom said, it... it didn't scare me.” He looked away, blushing a bit. “I like the thought of that. A lot.”

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand to get his attention back, a crinkly smile growing on his face. “Oh yeah?”

Buck nodded, grinning. “Yeah.”

They both leaned in at the same time, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

“You tired?” Tommy asked when he pulled back just enough to speak. “We can go to bed.”

Buck brought his hands up until they were curled around the nape of his neck. “Bed sounds nice.” He kissed him again, less gentle this time. He licked across Tommy's lips with his tongue until Tommy, without a seconds hesitation, opened his mouth to let him in. Tommy rested his hands on Buck's waist, gripping at his shirt.

“You're not tired, are you?” Tommy mumbled between kisses.

“Nope.” Buck ran his hands down Tommy's shoulders, over his chest, letting his nails drag over Tommy's clothed nipples. “You know, this is our first big fight,” he informed Tommy, lifting his shirt just enough to get his hands under the hem, feeling how Tommy sucked in a breath at something so simple as Evan touching his skin.

Tommy moaned, dropping his head to Buck's shoulder. “Make-up sex?”

Buck nodded. "Make-up sex," he agreed, taking Tommy's hand and they stood to head for the bedroom.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You don't show up to the game the next day, and Bradley has to face Molly's wrath when she comes in your place. His heart is broken as he feels the consequences of his words, but he finally realizes just how much you and Everett mean to him. Then he sees you at Everett's Career Day, but you're not making it easy on him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley sat up most of the night in his sad apartment, sipping on a bottle of bourbon and feeling like a prize asshole. He had finally found a woman he thought he could settle down with, thought the three of you could maybe be a family, but he managed to fuck all of it up before you were even properly dating him.

This was just so on brand for him, it was laughable. Every bad decision that could be made about women, well he made them. He just had to go spouting off for weeks on end that he didn't date moms with baggage, and now Jake had made everything blow up in his face. 

The problem was, Bradley actually had said all of that shit, but that was before he really got to know you and Everett. It made him sick now to think about the implications of what he had said. 

You hated him now. He knew you must. He had managed to hurt your feelings so deeply, he didn't know if you would ever look at him again. But the truth was, Bradley was the one with all the baggage. He was the one who didn't know how to make the right decisions. He was the one who made everything too complicated. Not you. Not Everett. The two of you were perfect. And he thought for a moment that he could have you. But now he knew he had been wrong again.

And there was no doubt in his mind that Carole Bradshaw would be so disappointed in him right now. Because she would have reacted the same way that you had. She would have stood up for her only son and protected him no matter what.

He groaned as he got to his feet, swaying as he set down his half empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. He needed to get it together and make it to the tee ball game in six hours. 

You would be there! He could try to talk to you then. Unless you kept Everett home instead. Bradley felt like crying, so he just dragged himself to his bed and passed out with his uniform pants still on.

Bradley's alarm barely woke him up as he dragged his sandpaper tongue across his teeth and moaned. His head was throbbing, but he managed to get up and get right in the shower at the prospect of seeing you. He didn't have time to shave or eat, but he did make it to the ballfield early, just in case.

"You look like shit," Bob told him, and his expression was something akin to disappointment.

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley wasn't exactly sure how much everyone knew. He hadn't stayed at the bar for very long after you left, preferring to drink at home alone. Chalk that up to another poor decision made. 

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday." 

Now Bradley felt even worse, because Bob's relationship with your sister shouldn't have to be the collateral damage of his word vomit. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bradley's heart was skipping erratically in his chest, making his head throb more. When he saw Everett in his blue uniform, he squinted against the sunlight and almost took off running. But it wasn't you. It was Molly. And she looked pissed as hell. 

"I'll be right back," Bob mumbled and headed for her instead. Which was fine with Bradley, because now something much worse was happening. Everett was bounding toward him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He just braced himself for the pain.

"Hi, Coach Bradley! See? I remembered to call you Coach Bradley instead of just Bradley since it's a tee ball day. When can we go back to the park again?"

Bradley wanted to cry. "Hey, kiddo. I missed you all week when I was away." And that was the honest truth. 

Everett just shrugged. "Practice was still fun, because my mom made it funny. And we won our last game, even though you weren't there. Do you think you can still win Coach of the Year if you missed a game?"

Bradley reached for Everett and pulled him in for a brief hug while Molly glared at him right past Bob's elbow. 

"Where's your mom, kiddo? Is she coming?"

Everett shook his head. "No, she was crying this morning, even though she didn't want me to know it. She does that sometimes, but it's usually only right after we see my dad."

Fuck. Bradley made you cry as hard as Danny did. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel worse, the honest words from a first grader twisted the knife a little deeper. Bradley had assured you that he was better than both Frank and Danny, but he was actually the worst one of the bunch. 

"You want me to help you with your cleats?" Bradley asked, and soon he was changing Everett's shoes while Molly kissed Bob on the cheek. He felt a tiny bit better that maybe he didn't fuck things up for Bob as well as himself. But then Everett said something that made him want to drink another bottle of bourbon and pass out. 

"Coach Bradley, are you still excited for the Phillies game next weekend?"

Bradley froze with the laces halfway tired on Everett's right shoe. He swallowed hard; in all of his fucking up, Bradley had forgotten about the upcoming game. He was going to have to disappoint Everett, because there was no way you would let him take your son to the game now. 

But he didn't know what to say other than, "So excited, kiddo." Then he sent Everett to start warming up while he pulled out his phone and tried to call you again. Voicemail. A second time. Voicemail. He'd left you so many messages already, but he decided to leave another one.

"Kitten. I'm sorry. I miss you. Please, Kitten. Please, call me back."

Bradley was surprised the Tiny Eagles managed to win the game. He was having such a hard time focusing as Molly's glare was burning a hole in his back. But every time he turned toward her, she was looking elsewhere. When the game ended, he took off in her direction, leaving Bob to clean everything up. 

"Where is she? Is she okay? Is she at home?" he asked Molly, who was finally looking directly at him as she stood up. 

"That's none of your business," she said, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he was going to try anyway.

"Molly, listen, I fucked up. I said that shit before I really knew her. Before I really knew what I wanted."

She crossed her arms over her chest, and the look on her face had Bradley taking a step backwards. "You called Everett baggage," she hissed as her eyes flashed. And if her sister was a Kitten, then Molly was a feral street cat that desperately wanted to give Bradley rabies. 

"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to her for me? Ask her to call me back?"

Molly's harsh laugh had him feeling hopeless. "She doesn't owe you anything, and neither do I. She's not your girlfriend. And now she's never going to be your girlfriend."

"Molly! What do I have to do to get her to talk to me?" Bradley asked, ready to beg on his knees for the chance to explain himself. "I made a mistake. But I care about her. And Ev."

Molly shook her head sadly at him. "Even Frank wasn't this bad. At least he didn't mind that she has a son. Who, by the way, is the sweetest child in existence." Now Molly looked like she was going to cry.

Bradley took his hat off and balled it up in his hands. He realized he probably looked insane right now, but he just needed to know how to get you to listen. "I can explain myself to her. I'll beg her to listen to me. I'll bring more flowers and more baseball cards for Ev. I'll-"

Molly cut him off with a jab of her index finger to his chest. "You can bring all the flowers and cards you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not good enough for her. You're not good enough for them!"

His voice was soft now, because he knew she was right. "Molly, please help me talk to her."

"You know, she wants to pull Ev from the team," Molly replied, picking up his gear bag as he ran over. Bradley felt sick; he wouldn't get to see you or Everett anymore. "The only reason she's not going to pull him is because of the friends he's made, and because she's a better person than you. But she thought about it. I hope you know you hurt her that bad."

Everett plopped down on the bench, and Bradley watched Molly instantly switch modes and turn into the loving aunt that she normally was. He really was bringing out the worst in everyone right now. 

When Everett was all ready to leave, and he and Molly were heading for her car, Bradley jogged up next to him. "Kiddo? Can you tell your mom something for me?"

"Sure, Coach," he replied, smiling up at Bradley like he always did. 

Molly was staring daggers at him again as he said, "Tell her I was wrong before, but now I have my priorities straight."

"Come on, Ev," Molly told him, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "We need to go."

Bradley knew he wasn't like Danny or Frank, and he just needed an opportunity to prove it. But he didn't want to upset Everett who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Tell her I miss her, and I can't wait to see her next time! Bye, Kiddo!"

"Bye, Coach!"

-------------------------------

Luckily Molly was working overnight tonight and offered to take Everett to his game, because you were in no way ready to see Bradley today. Your heart was actually broken, and you were just so embarrassed. 

Your kid's hot tee ball coach. Could you possibly be any more predictable? Any more of a chiche?

You were still in your pajamas forcing down some toast when Molly brought Everett back home around noon. "We ate lunch," she told you. "Everett wanted the baseball Happy Meal toy."

"Thanks," you mumbled, knowing that your little sister who spent the night holding your hand wouldn't judge you for looking like a mess right now.

"Mommy, are you sick today?" Ev asked, and your heart sank.

"Yeah, Ev. I'm not feeling great."

He set his Happy Meal toy down and started taking off his shoes. "I know what will make you feel better! Coach said he missed you! And he can't wait to see you next time. And that he has his prior tires straight."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "He means priorities."

"Yeah. Priorities," Everett said, agreeing with her. 

You felt like crying all over again, and now your phone was vibrating with another call from him. You ignored it as Molly told Everett to grab a snack and eat it out on the back deck. Once he was out of earshot, you told your sister, "He keeps calling and texting me. I don't understand why he cares so much, since I'm clearly a joke to him and all of his friends."

Molly sprawled out on your couch. "He actually seems upset, and I am telling you that begrudgingly, because I want to hate him."

You twisted your fingers together, afraid to know, but you asked anyway. "Did he say anything to you?" 

"Yeah," Molly said with a laugh. "Plenty. He begged me to get you to talk to him. I honestly thought he was going to plead on his knees. He said he made a mistake, and he doesn't feel that way now at all."

Oh. Well that was interesting. Your phone vibrated again. 

"And Bob said Bradley is an idiot, but he didn't think he was actually trying to hurt you," Molly added. "Of course I also asked Bob if he knew that Bradley felt like kids were baggage and moms were a waste of time."

"What did he say?" you whispered, setting your phone down before you caved and answered it.

"Bob said he would find it hard to believe that Bradley actually felt that way now, based on how much he loves you and Everett. He used those words, not me."

Your heart was pounding as your doorbell rang, and Molly sprang up to answer it. "Oh, shit," Molly mumbled as she carried several huge bouquets of colorful flowers into the kitchen.

As you opened the card attached to the first one you picked up, your eyes went wide. All of the cards said the same thing, written in Bradley's handwriting. 

I'm so sorry, Kitten. You and Everett are NOT baggage. You're perfect. I didn't mean it. Please, talk to me.

"Well, you don't need all of these flowers, so I'm taking some to my apartment," Molly said, kissing your cheek as she scooped up a few bouquets. "I'll come by in the morning after work."

And then she was gone, and you were sitting inside a massive floral display with very mixed emotions. 

-----------------------------

Bradley went home and drank the rest of Saturday away until he was asleep. If Molly wasn't willing to help him, and he could understand why she wasn't, then he would have to figure this out on his own. Because at this point, he didn't know what he was going to do without you and Everett. He needed you. He needed to fix this. 

On Sunday morning, he took a shower and got himself cleaned up. Two days of looking like a disaster was enough, so he dumped the rest of the bourbon down the drain as well. Then he grabbed the one thing he needed and drove to your house, nervous as hell that you wouldn't answer the door for him even if you were home.

He parked behind Molly's car and sighed. She was acting as your bodyguard right now, that's how badly he had fucked up. Either you or Molly didn't want you to be left alone. He climbed out of his Bronco with the binder tucked under his arm, and he made his way up to your front porch.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Molly in wrinkled scrubs holding a cup of coffee. "What do you want now?" she asked, and Bradley stood back far enough that she would probably miss him if she tossed the coffee. 

"Will you please tell her I'm here?"

"She's not home," Molly replied coolly. 

"Her car is in the driveway," he replied.

Molly sighed. "She's soaking in the tub, and she doesn't want to talk to you."

Bradley ran his hand over his face, unsure how much he should push. But then Everett came bounding out onto the porch and into Bradley's arms.

"Coach! I mean Bradley! What are you doing here? The Phillies game isn't until next Sunday! And Career Day isn't until Wednesday!"

Bradley's heart clenched with need. If he couldn't take Everett to the Phillies game, he didn't know what he would do. The kid would be crushed, and truthfully, so would he. 

He knelt on the porch and held up the binder. "I just came by to give you this," Bradley told him, really examining his face. He looked so much like you. He could see some of Danny there as well, but there was no denying that Everett took after his mom. 

"What is it?" Everett asked, but when he opened it and saw the plastic pages filled with baseball cards, his eyes went wide. "No way! Are these for me?"

"Yep. All yours, kiddo." Bradley had grabbed one of his binders at random, and probably just handed a six year old a collection worth a thousand dollars. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. Bradley swallowed hard and glanced at Molly before he asked Everett, "How's your mom?"

Everett just shrugged while he looked at the baseball cards. "She said she doesn't feel good. Something must be hurting her, because she keeps crying sometimes."

Bradley let the feeling of dread wash over him as Molly sipped her coffee. "Do you think she would let me take you to the park and pitch some balls?" he asked. But before Everett could even get excited, Molly cut him off.

"Not today, Ev. Remember, I'm taking you to the movies after lunch."

Bradley pressed his lips together and patted Everett on the shoulder as he stood up. "Another day, then."

When Bradley pulled away from the curb, Everett was waving to him while holding the baseball card binder, and Molly was standing behind her nephew, flipping Bradley the middle finger. 

---------------------------------

On Monday, Bradley flew like shit. He couldn't pay attention, and he was honestly a little nervous that someone was going to get hurt. 

"What the fuck was that?" Nat asked him once they were back on the tarmac. "I'm team leader! You need to listen to me!"

"I'm sorry," he told her. "You're absolutely right. I'm just distracted today."

"If this is about your Team Mom, you need to leave it on the ground." Nat was seething, and she had every right to be. "I know Jake blew your cover, but I tried to tell you from the start that if you were interested in her, you needed to get used to the fact that she has a kid!"

Now Bradley was seething too, because nobody seemed to want to listen to his side of things. "I am used to it, Nat! I got used to it real quick! And I wouldn't want it any other way!"

"Then sort your shit out or leave it on the ground!" She stormed away from him without another word. 

Then Bradley saw Maverick strolling his way and he tightened his grip on his helmet. "Listen, Bradley. I don't know what the hell happened to you in Lemoore or what your weekend was like, but you can't be flying like that. It's a liability. I'm grounding you for the week."

"What the fuck, Mav!"

But he just held up his hand. "There's no point in arguing with me. The Admirals don't want you in the air for a few days." Then he turned and headed back to the tower leaving Bradley alone in the bright sunlight. 

---------------------------

You skipped practice on Monday. It had been three days since Bradley had seen you, and the only thing holding his heart together was the fact that Everett was still happy to see him. 

"Hi, Coach Bradley!" he called with a wave as he ran ahead of Molly. 

When Bradley headed toward the bleachers to help him change his cleats, Bob grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "Hey, I'd steer clear of Molly if I were you. She's not your biggest fan at the moment." At least Bob's face looked sympathetic. 

"Yeah, I noticed."

Bob just kind of shrugged. "I took her out for dinner last night, and I tried my best to let her know you're not going to hurt her sister."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered. At least there was one person who didn't think he was horrible. 

Molly stood to the side and let Bradley tie Everett's cleats while he rambled on about how excited he was for Career Day. When he paused to take a breath, Bradley asked, "How's your mom, kiddo? She feeling better?"

"She's at a work meeting with someone named Frank," Everett replied, putting his Phillies cap on backwards to match with Bradley. He didn't like hearing that you were with Frank, potentially alone. But then Everett added, "She's still sad, too. She took my stuffed Phanatic to sleep with it. I think she remembered that you said it was good for if you're having a hard time."

Bradley closed his eyes for a beat. "You should go start warming up," he whispered, and Everett was off like a rocket running toward Bob. 

"She did give me a message for you," Molly told him as she sat on the bleachers and blew a kiss to Bob, who immediately started blushing. 

"What did she say?" he asked, preparing himself to beg her. 

"She wants you to stop sending flowers. I took some home, and she donated the rest to a nursing home. She said if you can't seem to stop, you can just send them directly to Bright Senior Living so she doesn't have to drive them there herself."

"Fuck," he growled, dropping down on the bench next to her and burying his face in his hands. He sat there for a bit as Bob started practice without him. He was so far out of his element. He had never chased a woman before in his life. He never saw the point in it until now. If he could figure out what to do, he would do it immediately. 

"You actually care about her?" Molly asked softly, and Bradley turned to look at her. 

"Not just her. Everett too. I can't get enough of either of them." His eyes were stinging as he watched Everett round the bases. 

"Then why did you call him baggage?"

Bradley stared at the turf. "Because I was terrified of falling for someone who was outside of my wheelhouse. Someone with more substance. Someone who would make it impossible to stop thinking about them." He stood, realizing it was time to go help Bob. "I'm an idiot. Truly, Molly, I do understand that. But I said all of that shit weeks and weeks ago, when I was just starting to realize that your sister meant something to me."

Molly nodded at him, and just as he was turning to head toward home plate, she said, "Then show her you care about them. And tell her what you told me. I'll let her know I can't bring Ev to practice on Thursday. And I'm pretty sure you're still on the roster for Career Day on Wednesday."

Bradley's heartbeat was speeding up. He felt more alive than he had since he was with you at the Hard Deck. "Thanks, Molly."

"Don't thank me. I'm still pissed at you. I just want my sister and nephew to be happy."

---------------------------

You left work at lunchtime on Wednesday and headed to Everett's school. When you planned out a five minute presentation for his class, you realized he was right: you did have a boring job. How you were supposed to make accounting interesting for a bunch of six and seven year olds was beyond you. It also didn't help that you were having the shittiest week ever. 

Not only were you missing Bradley and trying to get over him, you had been forced to stay late and work with Frank on Monday. Well, he had volunteered to stay late when he heard you were going to. And now you couldn't even lie to him and say you were seeing Bradley to get him off your back. 

With a deep sigh, you opened your car door and headed across the parking lot in your suit and high heels, the hot sun making you uncomfortable in your long sleeves. 

And then you heard his voice in person for the first time since Friday night. "Kitten."

You turned to see Bradley walking up the sidewalk in his flight suit, boots, and aviators looking impossibly handsome. You had been listening to his voicemail apologies last night, but the way he sounded in person made your spine tingle with need. 

You tamped it down. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to look at him as he caught up to you.

He was silent for a beat. "Everett invited me."

You scoffed. "Well, I'm uninviting you."

"Kitten. Please."

"No," you said sternly. "Why even bother if he's just my excess baggage?"

Bradley stopped walking, and when you turned to look at him, he had the same expression he had worn after you slapped him across his cheek. "He's not," Bradley rasped. "He's perfect. And so are you. And I don't want to make him upset if I don't show up."

You rolled your eyes. "Come on." He followed you like your shadow, his warmth at your back. You thought maybe he was going to touch you when you signed both of them in at the office and got name tags. It seemed like he wanted to, like maybe he was holding back. And as much as you wanted to scream in his face, your body was betraying you by craving his touch.

"This way," you told him, and when you entered Everett's classroom with Bradley next to you, your son's eyes lit up. He waved at both of you from his seat, and you had to plaster on a smile. Before giving it too much thought, you grabbed one of the empty seats between two other parents, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. 

You sat politely and listened to Harper's mom talk about neurosurgery. Then Peyton's dad talked about construction equipment. You gave everyone your full attention, firmly ignoring Bradley. You didn't even look at him once while you stood in front of the class and talked about how important math is. 

Once you were finished, you kissed Everett's forehead before you returned to your seat. But then it was Bradley's turn, and you couldn't help but look at him.

"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw, and Everett invited me here to talk about flying jets called Super Hornets." Every pair of eyes was glued to him as he gave a riveting presentation. Everett was practically vibrating with excitement at his desk, clearly so proud to have brought the most interesting adult to Career Day. You also noted that every woman was drooling over Bradley, including Everett's teacher. 

It was crazy to think that for a short time, you thought he was going to be yours. 

When everyone was done speaking, you popped out of your seat and told Everett you'd pick him up in a few hours, and then you were making a beeline for the door. You could hear Bradley calling your name, but you just kept going all the way to your car. 

"Kitten, please!" He was right behind you now, and you saw his big hand shoot past your shoulder and hold your door firmly closed. "Can we talk?"

You turned to face him, and you were taken back to every single time he had walked you and Everett to your car after tee ball practice. 

"About what?" you whispered. He had caught you off guard. You meant to start yelling, but all of the warm feelings he gave you were right there at the surface.

His eyes went a little wide as his lips parted, seemingly surprised you weren't shouting at him. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I fucked up. I should have never said those things, because I didn't even mean them."

You couldn't meet his eyes as you asked him, "Why did you say that to your friends? I feel humiliated. I feel like you think Everett and I are a joke."

"No!" he said, keeping his hand against the door and leaning a little closer to you. "You're not. And he's not. I said that so long ago, because I was instantly attracted to you, Kitten. And that terrified me."

You felt the fight draining out of you, and you knew you needed to get in your car and leave before he saw you crying. But instead you said, "Maybe you're right though. We're a lot to handle. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy."

When you turned and tried to open your door, Bradley held it shut. "Will you look at me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder as you felt tears stinging your eyes. "You and Everett are not a lot to handle. You're the perfect amount. Being around both of you makes me feel so good, Kitten." 

You swallowed hard and shook your head. "Thanks for coming today, I guess. It made him happy."

He let go of the door and ran his thumb across your jaw. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I made him cry."

You nodded and ducked away from his hand. "I'll figure it out. Make it so that this doesn't break his heart."

"Don't say that, Kitten. I still want to take him to the Phillies game on Sunday. I want all three of us to go," he whispered as you turned your back fully to him again. 

"I don't think that's a good idea."

You could feel his frustration rolling off of him, and his voice sounded panicked. "Where does that leave us, Kitten? Do I even stand a chance now?"

"I don't know. I need to get back to work. Bye, Coach."

This time he let you open the door, and he closed it softly once you were inside. When you pulled away, he just stood in the parking spot watching you. 

--------------------------

Bradley ended up at the Hard Deck after Career Day at Everett's school. He was grounded from flying, you'd just told him you didn't know where he stood with you, and he was probably going to make Everett cry at some point this week.

He ran his hands over his face and nursed a beer for a while. When Nat and Jake showed up, eyeing him cautiously, he thought it would be to his advantage to just head home. He handed Penny some cash, but Nat rubbed his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry I screamed at you on Monday."

"I deserved it," Bradley replied. "I wasn't being safe."

"You look fucking miserable," Jake drawled, leaning on the bar next to Bradley.

"You're literally the last person I want to talk to right now," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Thanks for Friday night."

Jake just shook his head. "Hey, I was just trying to get in her pants, okay? She's gorgeous, and you made it pretty clear the last time we talked about her that you were not interested."

Bradley couldn't even get mad, because Jake was actually right. "Well I'm pretty fucking interested in her now, okay? Stay out of her pants."

Jake just grinned. "I think I know what might help."

"This sounds suspicious," Bradley muttered, eyeing Jake cautiously. "Let's hear it."

"You still planning on going to that Padres game this weekend?"

"I don't know," Bradley groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

"Well," Jake said as he signalled Penny for a drink. "My landlord's son is the head groundskeeper at Petco Park. I can try to pull some strings if you think it will help."

Bradley gaped at him. "Do it."

---------------------------

Molly is the sister I wish I had! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 14

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[trinity0finite]

Right Now - Yu Jimin

Nonidol!Jimin x Biker!Reader

Desc- you hated party and admitting you're in the wrong, going to a party to save and apologise to your potential future wife? pfft..

tags: redflag simp reader bc thats the only thing i can seem to write 🥰, Jimin keeps you in check, super fine karina, my woman jimin, non!idol!au, i love bikes, i need my own fr, kinda petty and dumb reader ig, reader simps for karina and we get that, mommy rina haha..

note/ sorry if this sucks, my bipolar ass keep changing the plot

pushing past these sweaty, futureless people was one of the least thing you wanna do. but to save your potential future wife? you'd do just about anything.

but just because you two got into an argument doesn't mean she can just show up to your friend's party with another dude and not tells you about it.

you knew it was your fault, you broke a promise but for her to show up with the one guy you asked her to stay away from was too far.

now, you had a mission apologise, kiss her, make up,then kiss her again, and then make out or do something more.

suddenly a body bumped into yours, liquid spilled all over you which heightened your rage even more. and it turns out to be Choi Yeonjun.

The male turned around to face you, his eyes widened to see your glare, and hardened jaw. he rushes to use his hand to wipe the wet fabric of your leather jacket which makes you livid.

"sorry! sorry!" he continuously cries out.

Jay who was behind you could only suck in a breath and prepare for what's about to happen.

and the only thought on your mind was,

why was he using his dirty hand to touch you?

you grimaced before pushing the boy off of you with crazed amount of force, he bumped into another and they both fell to the ground, catching the other people's attention at the party and paused their dancing to check out the commotion.

"Ah you fucking-!" you gritted through your teeth and glare at the green hair boy who was shock.

as you were about to merge towards the boy, a hand on your chest stopped you. you paused, looking at the owner of the hand to see it was non other then the Yu Jimin.

"Jimin-ah.." you muttered out hopelessly, as your eyes landed on her. breath caught in your throat, even with an angry frown on her face she manages to still be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on.

she was mad at you but she was still wearing the same matching black leather jacket you both got, you fell for her even more.

without even replying, she pulls you by your leather jacket and fast walking away from the crowd.

it was quiet, too quiet for your liking as karina stared at you with the most disappointing stare that almost made you whimper.

you were stronger and certainly not smaller than her, but something about her make you weak in the knees. maybe its the way she looks, the way she smiles, the way her eyes sparkle, the way her lips looks, the way she handles you emotionally, the way she wears your clothes — lets go back to what's happening.

"were you going to fight again?" you winced at her strong tone and look down at your feet.

"he-he spilled his drink all over me.." you muttered out trying to get out of another situation of Jimin scolding you. you came here to apologise after all.

"it a party, they're drunk, it was an accident." the fact that she wasn't shouting at you scared you even more. you shivered at the deja vu with your mom.

it was even scarier because your mom actually likes Jimin for you.

"im sorry.." you whispered quietly, still not meeting her eyes making her sigh.

"look at me." she demanded, her hands on her hips.

instead, you didn't do as she says and got on your knees, in front of her, your head tilted up. her eyes widened to say she was shock was an understatement. because, you are the biggest, pettiest spoiled brat that she had ever seen. yet here you were, on your knees infront of her.

"please forgive me." you begged your voice breaks as you held onto her hand. "please baby come back to me, 'm sorry"

"i fucked up, i'll change." you admits it, you fucked up because you promised her to not get in any other fight, and you still did anyway. "i'll change for you, i'll change for us."

somehow, Jimin's heart swell in adoration, she wasn't supposed to feel like this, but she couldn't help it. you looked like a sad, kicked puppy, begging her to come back to you.

and now she confirmed it, underneath all of that tough interior, you were just a puppy. (not pet play)

she knelt down infront of you, hands cupping your cheeks to make you meets her eyes. the way you melt into her hand make it harder for her to control herself.

"i forgive you," she whispered, and you feels like thousand of weight had been lifted off of you. "but you need to keep your promise to me, you won't ever get into any other fights ever again."

with the way you quickly nodded your head, with your eyes wide almost made Jimin cooed.

Jimin slowly bring your face closer to hers, and the way you sigh in relief when your lips meet hers, it had felt like years of not feeling her lips on yours.

"my mom was going to kill me when she heard from jay that we got into an argument.." you muttered out of nowhere, against her lips.

"you deserved it." and her mumbled against yours, hand sneaking up to your fluffy hair and tugged it back, whimpers.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 56

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

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Friday, February 19; 3:00 PM -Alps

"Mom," I sighed again. "Do I really have to argue with you about this?"

"Why wouldn't you want to come home as well? I really expected you to visit."

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" I replied with a weary tone. "I have an interview on Tuesday. We would have come after that, but all my friends are staying here."

"Yes, but..."

She started her sentence but quickly stopped to sigh in turn. I had been struggling with her for nearly fifteen minutes about our possible return to Barcelona. I knew it would be difficult to tell her we weren't coming, but I didn't expect it to be this hard. She seemed really upset.

"I would have loved to see you again... Plus, I'm a bit worried about letting Joan travel alone."

"Oh come on, it won't hurt him to manage on his own, don't you think? And it's not like we're never coming back to Barcelona. It's just that the end of this vacation isn't convenient for us."

"Yes, I understand..."

I rolled my eyes as I turned to lean against the railing of our small balcony. I had stepped outside to get some space. I didn't need Lucy hearing our conversation. Who knows how it could have gone. Surprisingly, it was going more calmly than I had imagined. Especially for a disagreement. She had never acted this way with me before. It's the first time she's trying to see me, and maybe that's why I'm not being as harsh for once. From this new angle where I positioned myself, I could see inside our room. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to move. Lucy was gathering our things, offering me a perfect distraction. It's our last day today, and we're leaving in the next hour... Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn. I would have loved to extend this vacation.

"I took a few days off, you know," my mother continued, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" I teased. "I can be stronger than you at this game, Mom. For instance, you've never taken a vacation for me before."

An awkward silence followed. I could almost feel her nervousness from here, and yet I hadn't even raised my voice this time. She knew I was right, and she must have been afraid that I would get angry. However, now that I think about it, I can't blame her. Our relationship was so shaky that she avoided taking vacations at the same time as me. It was better for everyone if we didn't want seven to fifteen days of door-slamming arguments.

"Alright, I get it," she sighed. "I give up, but do you think you could come back soon...?"

"I don't know. Probably. We'll make sure to come back over a weekend if you really want to see us. Has Lucy made such an impression on you or what?" I teased lightly.

"I love Lucy, but I'd also like to spend time with you."

I nervously bit my lip. Her words seemed sincere, but for some reason, I felt like there was something more behind them. She really insisted on my girlfriend's presence, which was very unsettling. My daydreaming was quickly interrupted by Lucy waving at me from inside to get my attention. It wasn't hard to understand that she was waiting for my help. I sighed as I ran my hand through my hair.

"Listen, Mom, we'll come back, for sure, but it won't be next week. Just get a ticket for Joan. The best would be for Wednesday," I said, repeating what Lucy and I had agreed on.

"Alright... I'll let you know the times. You fly this route often, do you know someone who could take care of himS?"

"Yeah," I said without even thinking. "Ask Shay to take care of her. She's young, probably Lucy's age, very nice. I don't know if she'll be on that flight, but you can try."

"Okay, I'll see. Did you have a good vacation otherwise?"

"Really great. I'd love to keep chatting with you, Mom, but I need to gather my things, you see. Lucy will come looking for me outside if this goes on," I chuckled softly.

"Oh," she replied, embarrassed. "Sorry for keeping you..."

"No, don't worry. I'll call you when we get back to tell you all about it, okay?"

This conversation was getting stranger by the minute. I don't know where these words were coming from, but I felt compelled to say them given how she was behaving. One thing is certain, it does nothing to ease our awkwardness.

"Alright," she responded uncertainly. "Be careful on your way back."

"Promise. See you soon."

"Safe travels."

"Thanks. Bye, Mom."

The words slipped out again. I had never said "bye" to her at the end of a phone call before. I quickly hung up to avoid prolonging this strange and unusual conversation. I took a deep breath before heading back into the room. The first thing I did was take off my jacket. Lucy was no longer visible, but I understood she was in the bathroom from the noise coming from there.

"Did everything go well?" she asked me.

"Mm-hmm," I replied nonchalantly. "I don't want to leave," I added to change the subject.

"Oh, come on. Don't act like a child."

I relaxed, relieved that she was playing along by responding to the second part of my sentence instead of asking questions about what I had been doing outside. So I quickly continued in that direction.

"It was way too short."

"Are you done? Help me finish packing our things instead of complaining."

"Blah, blah, blah," I mumbled with amusement.

I smiled as her head peeked out from the doorway to give me a threatening look.

"I'm not kidding. Your clothes are still in the closet, so make sure to pack your suitcase."

"Yeah, yeah."

I rolled my eyes before turning my back on her. Looking her in the face right now could be regrettable for me. At the same time, it really was a perfect stay. It's the first time I've had such a hard time leaving. Yet, I tend to be the kind of person who loves returning home to find my routine after a trip. But today, I have to admit it's the opposite. Lucy was right again. I'm going to be the one making us late if I keep delaying our departure. With these thoughts, I started packing my suitcase as Lucy had asked. Everything was folded, so packing was easy. Then I tackled the nightstand, dumping what was left on it into my bag. I sighed at the same time, which made Lucy laugh in the next room.

"Aren't you done yet? Are you going to mope too?"

"Yes! Completely."

"Well, I guess I'll leave you here then."

"Hey!" I protested. "You wouldn't do that."

"Why not? You just confirmed that you'd be depressed if you left here, so you could stay here, right? That would solve your problem."

"But no," I complained. "You don't get it. I'll be even more depressed if you leave me here alone."

"Really?" she murmured in my ear, making me jump.

She placed her hand on my hip. I didn't expect her to be behind me when just a few seconds ago, she was talking to me from the bathroom. I glanced over my shoulder to see her little charming smile. When I tried to turn around, she held me back to pull me closer to her.

"So, I'm more important than a place, huh?"

"You know very well you are," I whispered. "You understood perfectly when I said I wanted to stay here. It meant with you."

"I didn't understand it that way, though," she teased lightly.

I closed my eyes as she placed her lips on my neck. My God, how I loved her kisses. Anywhere, as long as she gave them to me. She's the only one who can drive me crazy to the point of letting her touch me like this. I still can't figure out how she managed to fit so easily into my life, but she did. And damn, do I love it.

"You should..." I finally whispered.

"And why is that?" she murmured against my neck.

- Because. I don't want to go anywhere without you anymore...

I pause for a moment after saying this. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I was never someone clingy, and I definitely feel clingy saying this.

- I can't believe I just said that, I mutter out loud, making Lucy chuckle.

- But you did. It’s cute.

I take advantage of this moment to turn around and face her. She gives me a quick peck on the lips without adding any more comments that could make me uncomfortable.

- Alright, now that your little bout of depression is over, can we finish packing our things? I promise we’ll end our vacation just as well as we started it.

- I know, but it’ll be different. Not as... magical. We had our own little world here, you know?

- I can't argue with that... It’s true it will be different, but we have to return to the real world sooner or later.

I nod in agreement. It’s true, we’re really going back to reality. This last week of vacation will bring more work and responsibilities. It will start with the interview Lucy arranged for me, and then with my brother's arrival. I’m quite happy I won the battle against my mom. There was no way I was going to impose another long trip on us. Plus, after talking with the girls, I found out that Ale is staying in Manchester with Jenni, and Mapi already bought her ticket back for next weekend. Going back under those circumstances was out of the question. Having spent several weekends in Manchester before, this is the first time it’s happening. I can understand why my mom is worried about sending Joan, but he’ll only be traveling alone for one trip as we’ll make sure he returns with Mapi.

- Well, Lucy says, closing the suitcase. It’s time to head down. Are you done on your end?

- Yep.

I throw in the last of my things that I had in my hands before doing one last check. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s repacking when leaving. I always feel like I’m missing something. Fortunately, everything seems to be in order. I close my suitcase and join Lucy, who has already moved towards the door. I glance back one last time with a slight pang in my heart. I’m really going to miss this place. It was truly our little haven.

- Let’s go, Lucy murmurs.

I give her a sad smile and grab her hand. She shuts the door behind us, and we head downstairs. I’m surprised to see that we’re among the last to finish. I expected the others to take more time, considering this is the first time it’s happened. Usually, we’re among the first.

- I’ll go return the keys, Lucy tells me.

She steals a kiss before heading to the reception. I take the opportunity to join Alexia and Mapi, who seem to be having an animated conversation from where I’m standing. It looks like it’s the case, given how they greet me.

- There you are at last! Mapi calls out. We had an idea, Ale and I.

- Oh really?

- Yeah, she says proudly. Do you think Lucy will let you go for a night? We were thinking of having a girls’ night when we get back. Just the three of us, no girlfriends, nothing. Just us.

- Do you really think I would spoil the night by not wanting my presence, Mapi?

Once again, Lucy catches me off guard with her sudden appearance. The girls didn’t expect it either, judging by the looks on their faces. Since I told her what Mapi thought, this is the first time she’s made a remark that could suggest a reproach. Yet, I know they’ve talked. Neither of them wants to tell me what was said, but all I know is that things are better. They’ve settled their differences and know what they think of each other. I had pestered Lucy to be kind, and it seems she was. The most important thing is that their relationship has improved. It would be great if they didn’t take three steps back again. The comment had its effect on Mapi, as she gives me a disapproving look. She knows I told Lucy. At the same time, she should have known that was the case. A little cold sweat breaks out when she looks back at Lucy again. She almost seems embarrassed.

- It’s not that, it’s... Well-...

Her distress is evident in her eyes. Fortunately for her, Alexia comes to her rescue.

- We just wanted to have a night with friends, you see, Alexia interrupts. We’ve never had the chance to do one since we’re never together.

I bite my lip as I see Lucy raising her eyebrow seriously at Alexia’s intervention. Knowing her better now, I immediately relax. I was afraid she might react negatively, but I quickly realize she’s just teasing them. She often plays on her influence, and it’s very amusing to watch. I’ll never know how she manages to stay so serious every time. It’s something I could never do. Her serious expression slowly turns into a smile, making me burst out laughing.

- It’s fine, relax, Lucy finally laughs with me. Do you really think I’d stop her from going out? I’m not her mother, I’m her girlfriend, remember?

The girls’ faces are priceless. It’s funny that they always ask for Lucy’s permission. They still see her as my school chaperone. They haven’t yet understood that Lucy clearly distinguishes between the two relationships, and it will never be the case.

- But the night needs to be decided so we can plan, okay? Lucy adds while running her hand through my hair.

- Yes, Commander, I tease.

She rolls her eyes with a little smile.

- I’m going to Jenni’s, she finally says.

She kisses my cheek before heading off in her direction. I linger on her before turning back to the girls, who seem really uncomfortable.

- Forgive us, it’s just that we always feel like she’s the one calling the shots, Alexia apologizes first.

- I assure you, she lets me live my life fully, I giggle. If that wasn’t the case, I’d let her know.

- Okay, so when would be a good time for the girls’ night?

- Probably in the next few days. Joan is coming, so I’d rather avoid having him with us or leaving him with Lucy, I say with a shrug.

- Really? Joan is actually coming? You managed to call your mom?

- Just about. It was hard to convince her because she wanted us to come instead, but she finally agreed.

- That’s awesome! Alexia exclaims. So, you’re staying?

- Well, yeah, I laugh. We weren’t going to leave when you’re all here. Joan will probably come on Wednesday, but it would be best for us to have this girls' night over the weekend.

- We could do it tomorrow night. It’s Saturday. Saturday night is fun, right?

- Yeah, Alexia agrees. Jen told me she hasn’t done anything with Lucy in a while, so it’ll be a good opportunity for everyone to go out.

- We’ll check with them then, I say.

- Hey girls, are you coming? Beth calls out to us. It’s time to leave.

- It’s funny that it’s the latecomer calling us, Mapi jokes.

She nudges her playfully before they head off together, joining the others in laughter. It’s amazing how this trip has brought everyone closer. As for me, I’ve spent a lot of time with the four girls and Jenni. That girl is great, and I’ve learned some stories she shared about Lucy. It seems she was very protective of her and still will be if necessary. It’s good to know she’s surrounded like this, though I often wonder why. From what I know of Lucy, it’s hard to believe she needs it. Other than her, I’ve also talked a lot with Beth since she loves art, but also with Aitana during the evenings we spent together. Lucy was never far when one of her friends approached me, and I’m grateful for that. She has a good understanding of my anxiety, so I’m glad. Speaking of Aitana, she’s the last latecomer before we finally head out. We were very lucky with our cars. Since we barely used them these past few days, they were all covered in snow. Fortunately, the staff noticed and offered last night to clear them before our departure. Now that we’re in front of them, the result is really there. They’ve cleared everything, both on top and around. We decide to keep the same seating arrangements as on the way, which suits me perfectly.

- I’m still sad, I confess to Lucy while Jenni loads the car.

- We’ll come back, I promise, she chuckles.

- Hmm... But we might have to wait. Our next trip will be somewhere sunny.

- Are you going on vacation this summer? Alexia joins our conversation.

No. With the work at the gym, we won’t have time, Lucy replies. We’ll probably go to my parents' place during the next school holidays.

Lucy brought up this idea to me this week. I wasn’t particularly thrilled, but I couldn’t really say no. She had already met my mother, and she herself agreed to come back with me when I asked her. She admitted to visiting them twice a year: once during the end-of-year holidays and the second time during the summer vacation. Unfortunately, this year the second visit won’t be possible. Since she’s leaving her job to open her gym with Jenni, it goes without saying that they will have a lot of work on their plate this summer. When she told me about it, I expected her to say she wasn’t going. However, she promised them that she would come during the April holidays, so she can’t back out now. At first, I thought she just wanted to warn me about her departure, but in reality, I quickly realized that she wanted me to accompany her to introduce myself. I clearly panicked. It was sudden, and Lucy is older than me. Her parents must expect things different from mine. I don’t even know myself how we’re going to move forward after school, and I’m not in a hurry to find out, to be honest. All I want is to take my time. I was almost ready to say no to her, but she then explained that her parents have been worried since Keira’s death. Understanding Lucy’s desperate state, they had asked her to come back to Portugal, but Lucy categorically refused. She explained to me that she didn’t want to do that, that it would have been like taking ten steps back in her life. According to her, she had gained her independence by coming to Manchester and she had learned to love this city. It was because of this event that their project with Jenni truly came to life. If all this hadn’t happened, they would have waited before starting their own business. However, it was apparently the only thing that convinced Lucy’s parents to let her continue living in UK. Lucy managed to hide from them that she felt lonely and destroyed, and instead, she was determined to continue her new life. I felt bad hearing these revelations. I didn’t like knowing she was feeling so badly. Her solution to cope was Camp Wiegman. She confessed to me that it was her best way to heal. With this job, not only was she able to make money, but also, she managed to forgive herself for not being able to save Keira by helping other people in distress. It’s crazy that we could have met this way, but I’m so happy that her presence has been woven into my life.

- Yes, that’s exactly what I thought, that’s why I was asking, Ale continues with a smile. It’s cool if you can leave before! And where are you coming from then?

- From Portugal.

- You too? she wonders, knowing that I am too. Wow. Two Portuguese together, then, she giggles.

- Oh yes, Lucy laughs.

- It’s true that it’s a good idea to come back, Jenni says, closing the trunk. It’s been a long time since we did that with everything that’s happened.

- It was you who didn’t come back with me in December, Lucy replies. But if you want, you can come with us, Lucy offers. We will definitely leave the first week of the April holidays, but that remains to be confirmed.

- That would be cool! I agree. I would feel less alone, I joke.

- So yes. Know that Ona is really scared of meeting my parents, Lucy teases, making me blush.

I was panicking too. After what she told me, she never introduced someone after Keira. I can imagine that I would be the center of all their attention to ensure that I wouldn’t harm their daughter. In itself, I can’t blame them. I would have been the same and that’s what terrifies me.

- Well, at the same time, there’s a lot going on with Diane, Jenni laughs. Does she at least know that you have someone new in your life? It’s been a long time since you introduced someone to them.

- Since Keira, she murmurs. They don’t know about Ona yet, but I was planning to tell them over the phone in the next few days.

- I feel like you’re going to get a good scolding, she mocks. How long has it been since you called them? Knowing you, you’re still avoiding them like the plague, right ?

- Oh stop it. I avoid them much less than you avoid yours. I call them every weekend since... Well, every weekend except last weekend. She might have noticed that I’m hiding something from her, and I didn’t want to tell her about Ona right away. Anyway, did you know that your parents asked about you? she smiles amusingly at this news.

- Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me, she grimaces. But with all the organization and everything, I was pretty busy. That’s why I’m saying that maybe I should go back there, she giggles.

- You’d better call them more often, she scolds.

- You’re not in a position to preach to me. Start by telling her about Ona. You should know that the sooner the better. They’re just waiting for you to come back with someone.

- Hum, hum, she rolls her eyes.

- Hey guys, Aitana calls out to us, interrupting. Are we good to go?

Yeah, we’re good, Jenni confirms. Let’s get going before we get yelled at again, she tells us with a little laugh.

- That would be the height of irony since we were always the first this week.

We laugh as we get into the car. As on the way, we take off our jackets to be more comfortable, and Jenni hurries to turn on the heater. After Jenni checks the other cars, she opens the road as it’s still us who have the GPS. I look back with a slight pang, but I forget it very quickly the moment Lucy rests her hand on my thigh.

- Anyway, in all this, Ona, I confirm that you have reason to worry, she jokes. Diane will be relentless with you, believe me.

- Hey, Lucy replies upon seeing my face. She’s already quite panicked like that. Don’t make it worse. I would have preferred if you reassured her.

- Do you want to know the truth? she asks me.

- Because that wasn’t the truth?

- Yes, she laughs. But what you really need to know is that Lucy’s parents are adorable deep down. They’re just worried about her, so they’ll simply make sure that you deserve her. To do this, you’ll certainly have to go through a very thorough questionnaire, and they’ll definitely check your background—

- Jenni! Are you out of your mind?

- What? We both know they’d be capable of that, she snorts. No, seriously Ona, knowing you, they’ll adore you once they get to know you, believe me.

Lucy sighs before resting her hand again on my thigh. Looking at her now, I almost feel like she’s more stressed than me about this meeting. Maybe if she wants to take me right away, it’s to do it as quickly as possible like Jenni said earlier? I won’t hesitate to ask her. Anyway, I would follow her to the other side of the world if necessary. She has already done so much for me, so I wouldn’t hesitate to return the favor. However, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m totally panicked and if it were up to me, I would have gone back to Barcelona to spend my days studying for my exam.

- Everything will be fine, OK? she finally tells me. It will be the rest of the world against the two of us, in any circumstance.

This sentence may be cliché—and I hate it so much—but coming from Lucy, it's just adorable. I link my hand with hers and bring it to my lips to kiss the back of it.

- I know, I murmur before taking a deep breath. Anyway, you’re going to come with us too, right? So maybe they’ll have other distractions since it seems like Jenni hasn’t come back in a long time.

My subject change ended up easing the atmosphere. We laugh under the groans of the driver of the car.

- The worst is that she’s probably right.

I smile, staring outside. After all, it’s not really a bad idea this vacation. I’m going to have to face her parents sooner or later, and I’m happy to return to Portugal. It’s been a while since I last set foot there, me too. I miss my country. Maybe I’ll ask her to stop in my city as well...

Friday, February 19; 9:30 PM - Manchester.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m literally exhausted. In a good way, of course. Since it was mealtime upon our return, we all stopped at a pizzeria again to grab a bite. It’s been about an hour since we ate, and we’re now chatting. Most of our conversations are about our stay. Unlike in the Alps, there’s no more snow here, but it has been transformed by rain. Lucy told me she got used to this city, but I still wonder how. Maybe the weather will warm up now. I blink several times to stay awake. I try to follow what’s being said while being completely slumped over Lucy. A little more and I’m lying on her.

- Do you want to go home? she whispers to me.

- Hum, hum.

I shake my head, sinking into her neck. I don’t want to ruin the evening because of me. Everyone still seems to have their heads in the living room. We've done so many things that there's a lot to talk about. Lucy kisses the top of my head, holding me close.

- We’re going to go home.

No, I mumble.

- "Yes, let's go home," she giggles. "I don't exactly want to carry you all the way to my apartment."

- "I'm fine," I mumble. "I'm not that tired..."

I try to sit up, but she firmly keeps me against her.

- "You're allowed to be tired, babe. We've had a long week."

I smile at the thought. We definitely had a long week. Between parties, hikes, and activities, I don't know where my head's at anymore. Lucy had promised we'd go sledding, and that's what we did yesterday on our last day. Afterward, we stopped by a chalet for hot chocolate and ended the evening in the pool. It was the perfect way to unwind one last time. I didn’t expect to be this exhausted, though. There were nights when we didn’t get much sleep, but I should be used to short nights by now.

- "Alright, everyone," Lucy says to the others. "Any volunteers to drive us home?" she asks.

- "We’ll take you," Jenni teases. "We’re falling asleep too."

Eventually, everyone agrees to head back. I was surprised to find out it was already nearing ten o'clock. Suddenly, I didn’t mind going home. I thought it was much earlier. I struggle to get up, barely managing to stay on my feet, which seems to amuse Lucy.

- "It’s not funny," I mumble with a small smile.

- "Do you want me to carry you?" she teases.

- "No, and stop mocking me," I complain.

- "Oh, by the way, we didn’t get a chance to talk about the girls' night," Mapi says, approaching us.

- "You can talk about it tomorrow. She won't remember anything tonight," Lucy laughs.

I groan again, giving her a gentle push. Bad idea. Not only does she barely move, but I also stumble. Without another word, Lucy lifts me into her arms, making me let out a small cry of surprise. It was the last thing I expected her to do after joking about it. I smile as I relax against her, no longer finding the strength to protest. It takes just a few minutes for sleep to take me.

Saturday, February 20; 3:00 PM - Manchester Supermarket.

I sigh for what feels like the hundredth time as I push the cart. Whose idea was it to do the shopping the day after a vacation? Especially on a Saturday. It’s packed with people. This isn’t exactly how I imagined getting back to normal life. At least I got a good ten hours of sleep last night... I could’ve easily slept ten more.

- "I’m sore all over."

- "Are you done complaining? You've been doing that since you woke up," Lucy teases.

- "I’m sleep-deprived. I don’t really understand why you volunteered us to do the shopping. The others volunteered too. We could’ve spent the day on the couch!"

I’m starting to think it was a mistake to agree to this evening so soon. I should have known that with Mapi, everything would need to be meticulously organized, and that’s exactly what happened. This morning, during breakfast, she called me bright and early. Before her call, Lucy had confessed that she wanted to bring it up last night, but I fell asleep before she could. Mapi didn’t hesitate to remind me, teasing me about it. I laughed it off, so I can't really be mad at her. It’s something that’s never happened to me before. Then again, we didn’t get much rest during the vacation. We scheduled the girls’ night for tonight. I would have preferred to move it to tomorrow, but Lucy and her friends will be heading to The United while I’m out.

- "I’m starting to think I should have let you sleep in that restaurant last night instead of carrying you. And to think I said I wouldn’t do it."

I gasp, lightly hitting her arm.

- "It’s not my fault I was completely exhausted. You would’ve dared?"

- "Hmm... I would have if you were acting like you are now. You wanted this girls' night tonight, so own it."

- "Listening to you, it sounds like you're not too thrilled about it."

- "Don’t put words in my mouth," she sighs.

- "Then what? Are you going to say it’s my fault again? I consulted you, and we didn’t really have a choice since you’re also going out to your bar."

- "That’s not what’s bothering me right now."

- "Then what? Are you going to blame me for agreeing to a girls’ night? Did you not want me to?"

I ask, feeling a bit panicked. What if that’s it? I barely consulted her, but she said it was fine yesterday. At least, it seemed like tonight worked for everyone since she’ll be out with Jenni and Ingrid while I’m with the girls.

- "Of course not. It’s not about the night out. It’s you making a fuss about these groceries that’s irritating me. That’s all."

- "Well, the others could’ve handled it. Mapi and even Ale offered to help."

- "We needed some groceries anyway. Besides, Jenni’s going to start working solo on our room, so I owe her since she’s already doing a lot. And as for the other two, I don’t trust them with the shopping list. You know what I mean?"

I swallow the words I was about to throw at her. I’m such an idiot sometimes. I should know by now that most of her decisions are well thought out.

- "Sorry," I mumble. "I get it now, but I was just expecting we’d spend the day on the couch, so I’m frustrated."

- "It’s fine, I know. We’ll have time for that too. I promise, babe."

- "Yeah, well, I’m afraid we won’t have much time left, you know? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a chance to relax?"

- "Are you going to tell me you regret last week?" she challenges, raising an eyebrow.

- "Of course not... Alright, have you finished contradicting me just to change my mind?"

Lucy laughs as she continues filling the cart that I’m pushing. Some of it’s for us, and the rest is for tonight, as she mentioned earlier. We’re staying at Jenni’s apartment, so we needed to buy stuff since she’s low on supplies too. We decided to make pizza, so we bought what we needed, as well as some drinks. In the end, I’m glad we’re taking care of it. At least I know what we’re buying, and if it helps the others out, then all the better.

- "Nope. It’s actually pretty funny," she teases with a small smile. "Anyway, how about we grab some things for a movie night tomorrow, hmm?"

I was about to pout, but Lucy knows just how to talk to me to avoid that, it seems. I nod enthusiastically.

- "That sounds tempting, for sure."

- "We can finally finish the Harry Potter series after all this time."

- "You’re the best."

- "Alright, let’s finish these groceries then. We’re almost done."

Now that I look into the cart, I realize that Lucy had already started picking up stuff for tomorrow. I smile, amazed at how she always manages to distract me. It’s incredible.

- "Hey, you’re not really mad at Mapi, right?"

- "Why do you ask? I thought everything was settled."

- "I thought so too. It was just a question based on your remark yesterday. She blamed me for talking to you," she giggles.

- "Oh. I was just joking. I thought you guys understood that."

- "I did. I just wanted to make sure now that we’re alone."

- "Mapi is your friend, Ona. Like I said before, we’ve settled our differences. As long as she stays honest with you, I’ll appreciate her."

- "Even if she makes me drink tonight?"

- "Well, I’d rather not talk about that."

I laugh, knowing exactly what she’s thinking. She really doesn’t like it when I drink. Keira must have really left a mark on her in that regard.

- "I’m kidding. I promise it won’t be a wild night. Alexia didn’t seem to want that, and with what you picked out, I doubt we’ll get drunk."

I say, glancing into the cart. There are mostly beers, two bottles of low-alcohol liquor, and some soft drinks. I don’t think we’re at risk of getting drunk with this.

"And what do you plan to do tonight? Do you have any plans yet? »

My smile widens. She just can’t help but be curious. Even though she told me this morning, and just repeated, that she didn’t want to know anything about tonight.

- "I have no idea. We’ll probably talk a lot. Anyway, you’ll be looking for me tonight, so there’s no risk of anything happening to me, right?"

- "Don’t be so sure. If I find you drunk, I’ll make you run beside the car on the way home to burn off the alcohol."

I burst out laughing. The craziest part is that she really would do it.

- "Well, we’ll try to avoid that, huh?"

- "It’s up to you to avoid it, sweetheart," she replies with a wink. "Come on, let’s check out. When we get home, we can prepare the room for your brother, get the snacks ready, and finally relax. I’m starting to get tired too."

- "It’s about time," I giggle.

- "What can I say? I guess I have more stamina than you," she teases.

- "Yeah, well, not all of us are as athletic as you," I retort with amusement.

- "True," she smiles. "But even the best can get tired."

- "What nonsense! I never said you were the best."

- "I don’t need you to say it. I know it myself, and that’s enough," she boasts.

I laugh, giving her shoulder a gentle push. Her smile widens, making mine grow too. She’s joking when she says that, but she probably doesn’t realize how true her words are. She’s such an amazing woman, and I feel like she doesn’t even see it. I can’t wait to get home and hibernate on the couch with her.

[laylajeffany]

Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy

Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself

@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️

“You were crying.”

Duh.

“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”

“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.

“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.

She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.

“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.

Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.

How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”

Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”

Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.

She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.

To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…

Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”

“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”

More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.

“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…

Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.

There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.

Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.

“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.

Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.

Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…

Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)

She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”

“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -  

“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”

About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –

“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”

“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”

Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”

Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.

“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”

As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.

Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.

When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.

Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –

Sincerity.

Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”

Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.

“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”

Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.

Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.

“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.

Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”

Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…

“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”

Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”

Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”

There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”

“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.

“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”

“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.

The waitress blinked.

Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”

The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.

Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”

Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.

After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”

Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”

“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”

“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”

“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”

Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.

After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.

Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”

There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.

When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.

She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…

“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.

Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”

“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”

“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”

Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”

There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”

Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”

“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.

Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”

Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.

Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼

[pollymorgan]

Ex-Husband Negan Part 8

Warnings: A woman who is probably running into her ruin and a bit of sex.

Steve's gaze still wandered incredulously between us.

"I... I always knew..." he stammered.

I didn't know what to say. No words could explain this whole situation. What was the right answer? "It's not what it looks like...?". But it was exactly what it looked like. I felt terribly sorry for Steve. Especially that he had to find out like this. After all, I painfully knew what it felt like to be in his position.

"Steve, let's talk about everything in peace!" I said softly.

"About everything? Just as soon as I'm not around, you spread your legs for this idiot, even in our bed, and now you want to talk about everything? I bet this wasn't even a one-time thing...". His voice was getting angrier by the minute.

"One thing I have to give you credit for, Stevieboy... you're a really clever guy..." Negan chimed in amused.

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes, only this jerk managed to make a terrible situation even more unbearable.

"Just shut up, Negan!" I snapped at him, but he just shrugged unimpressed.

"No, let him talk, he seems to be the only one finally telling me the truth here...". Steve's voice trembled incredibly.

Suddenly, I heard my daughter's sleepy voice. "Mom, what's going on here?". Now she stood there, in her pajamas, with wide eyes, in the doorway.

"Go back to bed, this is a matter for adults..." Steve ordered loudly.

Pumped up, Negan headed purposefully towards Lizzie, who was trying to make sense of the situation, brushing against Steve's shoulder so hard that he stumbled back a few steps.

"Never talk to my daughter in that tone again!" Negan scolded him seriously and then said gently to her, "Come on, I'll take you to bed!". Gratefully, she accepted the invitation and they both disappeared in the direction of her room.

Steve and I stared wordlessly at each other for a while. I saw all the anger and disappointment in his eyes. I felt so sorry for everything, but I couldn't do anything that would change the situation.

With a broken voice, I said, "Maybe it would be better... if... you... left now...".

Ashamed, I stared at the ceiling, covering my half-naked body.

"So that's it now? How broken are you that you're falling for this sick guy again? Damn it, haven't I given you everything you need?" he asked desperately.

He was right. Every word was so true and I knew it myself. Negan and I. It couldn't work. It hadn't worked for the past 30 years. Yet, if I looked deep into my soul, he was the only man I really wanted. I often hated myself for it, but it was the truth.

"Steve, it's not because of you!" I tried to appease him somehow.

Shaking his head, he replied, "I know, it's all because of you...".

With that sentence, he left the house and probably my life. I stared after him incredulously until I was startled by the sound of the slamming front door. Tears immediately filled my eyes.

I wiped my face a few times, then I stood up purposefully, put on the first nightgown I could find over my underwear, and went to Lizzie's room.

I was determined to kick Negan out. Yes, I had brought him here. But the situation just now had shown me more clearly than ever that he had no place in my life - except as the father of my children.

He was a selfish, egotistical jerk. I had known that for far too long and still fell for him over and over again.

The door to my youngest daughter's room was slightly ajar. Just as I was about to angrily open it, I heard her talking to Negan.

"Yeah, Steve and she are always arguing, I hate it... every time you're here, Mom laughs so much. I think she thinks you're the funniest person in the world..."

My heart skipped a beat at her words. I never thought she would pick up on so much of the arguments between me and Steve, but I was clearly mistaken.

"Hey, that's because I'm the funniest person in the world..." Negan countered.

"Kind of..." Lizzie replied amused.

"Hey, remember, I'm your father, I can still give you a grounding..." my ex-husband joked with her and I couldn't help but smile.

"I wish so much that Mom and you would get back together someday, I mean, that we would be a real family again..." my daughter said seriously.

"We are a real family! Please never forget that!... But your old man is also a real jerk, at least sometimes, and even though I love your mother very, very much, I once broke her heart pretty badly and that can't be easily fixed, unfortunately....Hey, I have something for you, if you promise me that you'll take good care of it and give it back to me if I ever need it again..."

"What is it?" my daughter asked excitedly, and I was just as curious, hidden behind the door.

"First, your promise, young lady!" Negan reminded her.

After my daughter made a vow, there was a moment of silence, then she asked curiously, "What is this ring?".

"This is my most valuable possession, and you are now responsible for it, understood? This is my wedding ring, your mom put it on me at our wedding when we promised to love each other forever, and you know, promises are not to be broken...".

Immediately, a lump formed in my throat. I knew that if I continued to eavesdrop, my sobbing would give me away, so I tiptoed back to the bedroom.

I immediately collapsed into bed. My head was buzzing with everything that had just happened. It felt like a bad dream playing out in fast-forward. But unfortunately, it was bitter reality.

I turned off the light and covered myself. But of course, I couldn't sleep. Thoughts kept bombarding me and wouldn't let me rest.

After what felt like an eternity of agonizing silence, the bedroom door suddenly opened. My heart pounded in my chest, and small flashes shot through my body.

I closed my eyes and didn't move. But I still felt Negan's presence more than clearly. I sensed him sitting on the bed. I felt his eyes on me. Then, he apparently took off his T-shirt and opened his belt to let his jeans fall to the floor.

The nonchalance with which he lay next to me made me angry, but as he put his arm on my hip, I automatically pressed my body closer to his.

His lips lightly touched my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I didn't want to think anymore, just feel. Feel him. Only him.

He started to trace his fingertips lightly over the bare skin of my thigh. Up and down, over and over. Then he pushed my nightgown further up, so that I could press my almost naked butt against his, clad only in boxers.

I rubbed against him gently, feeling him harden under my movements. The sensation alone made my core heat up.

"Fuck, this ass is driving me crazy!" he whispered softly, his breathing becoming heavier. He then held my hips firmly and pressed me even closer to him.

"I know you enjoy it when he gets so hard because of your little games... you love that, don't you, sweetheart?"

I tried to suppress a grin by biting my lower lip, then I answered with a confirming "Mmm...".

Negan released my hips to lift my leg and place it over his. I turned slightly more onto my back, burying my face in his neck, his beard pleasantly scratching the thin skin, while his warm breath only aroused me more.

Slowly, his hand slid under my nightgown and caressed my stomach. I allowed it for a moment, then I wanted more and took his hand, placing it on my center.

"Oh, my beauty, do you need it so badly, yes?" he teased me excitedly.

His index and middle fingers lightly touched my underwear. Every fiber of my being tensed, and I felt the wetness soak through my panties. Eagerly, I spread my legs wider.

"I need you..." I sighed.

Skillfully, he circled over the nerve bundle between my legs with perfect pressure, and my body trembled under his touch.

As I was on the brink of climaxing for the first time, he stopped and watched my reaction for a moment, before inserting two fingers into me. Slowly, he moved them in and out.

"You feel so good, so damn wet and tight for me..." he murmured in my ear. My inner walls tightened around his fingers repeatedly. But that jerk knew exactly what he was doing and kept me on edge. Quickly, he withdrew from me again. My whole body was tingling with anticipation, craving the sweet release.

"Please, don't stop...!" I pleaded.

"Why so impatient?" he asked amused.

I gathered the little strength I had left and spun around in one swift motion, so that I suddenly lay on top of him.

Negan looked somewhat surprised as our faces were so close that our noses almost touched.

"So, you want to play games, my dear? You picked the wrong person to mess with, you should know that..." I said confidently and pulled my nightgown over my head. Then I leaned back towards him to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. Then, I slowly slid down his body. As I removed his boxers, he willingly allowed it, lifting his hips to make it easier for me.

Now, his perfect, rock-hard penis was right in front of my face. Damn, how much I needed him! But I didn't want to make it easy for him anymore.

Hesitantly, I took his head into my mouth and sucked on the precum, only to release him again. I looked up at him with joy, enjoying his tense expression. The vein on his forehead bulged, his dark eyes full of lust, watching my every move.

With my thumbs, I spread my saliva on his tip, making his penis twitch in my hand.

"Come on, sit on my cock, sweetheart..." he urged me.

But I just shook my head, grinning. "Oh, who's so impatient?".

"Come on, you need it too. I know exactly how much you enjoy riding me..." he almost begged.

I quickly removed my soaking wet panties, which made Negan smile confidently.

"Well, well... Not so fast, my love... first, I want to come on your perfect face..." I said, sitting up.

Negan slid down a bit, and I knelt over his mouth, finally lowering myself onto him.

As his tongue touched my wet core, I could barely hold back. I pressed down even harder on him and moaned loudly.

My whole body was tingling with pleasure, and I couldn't help but push myself even harder against him and let out a loud moan.

As his fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place, I could feel the tension building up. I was so close to the edge, my body trembling with anticipation.

Suddenly, I came undone, a wave of pleasure washing over me. My body shook with the intensity of the climax, and I collapsed onto him, breathing heavily.

Negan's hands held me close, his touch comforting me as I came down from the high.

As we lay there, tangled in each other's embrace, I realized that despite everything, despite the chaos and the pain, there was still a connection between us that I couldn't deny.

And as I drifted off to sleep in Negan's arms, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would always find our way back to each other.

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

Chapter 3

Words:889 @cherry-4200 @adaizel

Ok so you guys before you read this i must tell you that it actually sucks ass. I didn't have time to plan anything for the fic this week as it was literally full of things to do and to not let you all without an update for too long i did this monstrosity. I did it in like some minutes and it was a last minute thingy but i promise that the plot of this fic is good i just can't write happy things in my "poetic" style for the death of me so i had to improvise. Again i am deeply sorry for whatever this is.

A few years have passed since Lilith's disappearance and Lucifer depression was really getting to him, but you always managed to help him through it. After she was gone you stopped travelling around hell and started living with him and Charlie. You loved navigating through the inferno, as much as it was grotesque, but Luci was your top priority. It seemed like he was getting, happier, in a sense. You didn't have to help him as much as you did in the past. It seems your sweet reassurances were useful for once. His joyous demeanor was slowly creeping through the cracks filled with suffering. Charlie was a fully grown woman by now, you were so proud of her, of what she has become. She recently started some sort or project, a hotel to redeem sinners. Her dad wasn't really...fond of her dream, but you supported her as much as you could. Her and Lucifer lost a lot of their relationship. They were....distant, she did love him, as much as he did love her, but it saddened you to see them grow apart. After Lilith's disappearance you started to care for Charlie as if she was your daughter, she was so young when she lost her mom, she needed someone to care for her like only a mother could, and you decided to fill that role. After a while she got accustomed to you, she grew to love you, to see you as family, even when the thought of Lilith still lingered inside her. She was such a sweet girl, you were sure she could do it.

As for Lucifer, your feelings for him never went away, they only grew the more you were togheter, and it was the same for him too. He loved you oh so dearly. He desperatly wanted to make a move, but he was afraid, deathly afraid of it. Lilith was still in his heart, y/n helped him a lot to move on, but he still wasn't ready. You decided to plan something for you and Luci to distract him and help him get better. And what's more relaxing then swimming? You searched for him among the intricate corridors of the castle, founding him in his room, making another rubber duck: "Oh Luciiiii~" you exclaimed, catching his attention, slowly moving your way towards him "Oh! G-good morning, do you need something? I am quite busy right now as you can see...uh...you can stay here with me and help me! If you want..." He replied. He was starting to get more nervous around you and you felt guilty about it, you thought that maybe you did something wrong. If that's the case then the pool day might be able to help him forgive you you hoped "Uh, are you almost done with that? I planned something for us today but we could do it later if you're busy" "NONONONO! I-I am happy to do anything if it's with you–uh I mean don't worry, we can do it now!" He spluttered, as he looked away from you to hide his growing embarassment "Ok so uhm, I've noticed you are recently getting more stressed, soooo you know the pool you have but that you basically never use? What about having a relaxing pool day with nonother than me?" Lucifer contemplated the idea, but of course he accepted. How could he not when you were so excited to spend the whole day with him? "YES–uh of course I accept" "PERFECT. I'll wait you in there while you get ready byeee!" You exclaimed, as you burst out of the door, a sigh coming out of his lips. You were hopeless, but he loved you for it, plus it was an excuse for him to see you in a bikini. He got ready for the pool and made his way there, you were already waiting for him in the cool water and oh my god was he a sight to see. You had to physically  restrain yourself from watering down your mouth, the same was to be said for him though "Ehy, sorry if I didn't wait for you, it was just so fucking tempting" you said looking up at him "It's fine, i guess you'll just have to WATCH OUT!" He exclaimed diving into the water "OH COME ON LUCIFER FUCK YOU I WASHED MY HAIR YESTERDAY" you shouted at him, him exploding in a fist of laugher "that's what you get for not waiting for me". You sighed, he was hopeless, you were truly infatuated with him weren't you? "You owe me something for this mister" you told him, crossing your arms "yeah yeah sure" he replied giggling. Oh god you were such a sight in that, it was hard not to kiss you right then and there. "Uh do you hear that too?" He said all of a sudden "hear what?" "My phone's ringing, wait a sec" he replied, teleporting his phone there. He started at it for a second before screaming "OH FUCK IT'S MY DAUGHTER WHAT THE HELL DO I DO!" "Luci, calm down. Breath in and out it's going to be fine, now be a good dad and respond" "Yes yes you're right" he cleared his throat while finally responding to the call "Ehy bitch!" Ok maybe he was more hopeless than you thought.

[ginnsbaker]

Maybe You Were The Ocean

Summary: Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life.

Word count: 6.3k+ | Tags: Heavy Angst, Character Death, Bittersweet ending

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by @gingiesworld:

Y/N and Wanda have been together for a while and Pietro calls Y/N one night, needing a lift home from a friends party. On that night they get hit by another drunk driver and Pietro dies on impact. As time goes on and the other driver is arrested, y/n still blames themselves for Pietro's death. Even though Wanda continuously tries to tell them otherwise but they won't listen. They then yell at her "why don't you blame me? You should hate me for your brother dying." Before walking out. Can be either a happy or sad ending buddy. Whichever you decide

Author's note: I changed some minor details in the request, hope you don't mind Gingie. Thank you for this gut-wrenching monster, it allowed me to practice writing in past tense (so out of my comfort zone lol). Title is from "black flies" by ben howard, listen to that as well when you read ;)

Masterlist

-

Now

You haven't been to something like this in what seems like ages.

That something being a wedding.

And if you were to keep count, you'd realize you've been to more funerals than weddings in your lifetime so far.

Your best friend looks like a goddess in her white dress—and anyone with eyes can see that the groom is the luckiest man on earth.

You’re fixing your hair in front of the mirror when she approaches, wearing a smile that you’ve never seen on her, a smile you’d never be able to put on her lips yourself. It’s a smile reserved for him—that lucky bastard.

She gently taps on your shoulder. “You’re going to make me cry if you keep looking so stunning,” she teases, her voice light with laughter.

You chuckle, your eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “It's your day, and nothing can overshadow how beautiful you look.”

“Promise me something,” she says suddenly, her bright eyes locking onto yours.

“Anything,” you reply without hesitation.

“Promise me that you won’t stop looking for this kind of happiness. Promise me you'll find someone who puts that same smile on your face,” she whispers.

Your throat tightens, words caught somewhere between heartache and hope. “I promise.”

Then

You were eight years old when you moved to a new neighborhood.

At that age, it felt like the scariest thing that had ever happened to you. Your parents divorced, your mother got full custody, and once the judge made that call, she packed up everything familiar and moved you to a new state: New Jersey.

It was what she could manage back then. This place was nothing like the spacious suburbs you remembered, and your new apartment building seemed no bigger than your old living room back in California. The place had just one bedroom, and it was hard to tell where the dining area stopped and the kitchen started.

You resented her in the way a child might, not fully grasping responsibility or consequences. You were upset she took you away from your friends and the comfort of your old life. You didn’t see back then the bruises hidden beneath her shirt, the ones your father left. You only learned about them when you turned eighteen. By then, your resentment had faded long ago.

A week after moving into that aged building, you encountered the twins next door, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. Initially, you met Pietro when his mother sent him over with some food to welcome you and your mom to the neighborhood. It wasn't until you and Pietro became inseparable friends, spending every possible moment together, that you met Wanda.

When you did meet her, you weren't fond of her. She seemed aloof and mostly kept to herself. Unlike her expressive brother, Wanda seldom voiced her thoughts, making conversations with her feel uninspiring. 

You and Pietro often clashed with Wanda over the television. You both wanted to play video games while Wanda preferred her sitcoms. Pietro would let Wanda watch her shows briefly before forcefully switching channels just to annoy her. Eventually, Wanda would retreat to her room in tears, and Pietro would steel himself for a reprimand when their mother returned home.

You would give Wanda a piece of chocolate because you felt bad, but you never asked Pietro to stop, fearing he might stop being your best friend. In return, Wanda would lend you her pocketbooks you’d never quite finish.

You hadn't realized it back then, but that dynamic would continue well into your teen years. With Pietro stirring up trouble left and right, you being caught in the middle, and Wanda, from a distance, observing you with cautious interest—perhaps wishing it had been her who brought the welcoming food instead of her brother.

Now

The wedding isn’t going to start for another hour. There have been delays due to the weather.

With the archways and open corridors adorned with blooming flowers and drapes, the venue looks nothing short of magical, even with the looming clouds. From where you stand, you extend your arm, letting the light drizzle kiss your skin. Each droplet feels like nature's way of playing with the day's emotions—adding both melancholy and charm.

Someone nearby remarks, “You know it's considered good luck when it rains on one's wedding day.”

You merely smile politely in response.

“Are you a friend of the bride’s or the groom's?”

“The bride,” you reply.

“Oh, fantastic! Maybe you can convince her to finally see she’s way out of his league!”

You shake your head at the joke. It’s not even the first time you've heard it today.

Then

It wasn't until you were fifteen and Pietro, seventeen, that the troubles you found yourselves in became more serious. 

It had also been a few months since Pietro introduced you to drugs other than weed. At first, it was just an occasional joint passed around at a party or behind the school building. But Pietro wanted to try riskier substances. You weren't as keen but didn't want to be left behind by your best friend.

One evening, after trying something a bit harder than usual, you and Pietro were wandering the streets, laughing way too loud. In his intoxicated state, Pietro suddenly swung at a parked car with his bat, smashing it. Almost immediately, patrol lights shone bright, and stern police voices could be heard from almost everywhere. Pietro got cornered, but sheer panic made you bolt. Ditching your best friend felt terrible, but the terrifying thought of jail—especially knowing the mess it'd be for your already stretched-thin mom—made you keep running.

Still shaken, you made your way to Pietro's apartment, knowing you had to be the one to tell his mother. Her reaction was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, desperation. She demanded you stay with Wanda while she went to confront the nightmare at the police station.

“I think I'll just head home,” you murmured to Wanda, not wanting to impose any further.

She glanced at you, her eyes searching. “Have you had dinner?”

You hesitated, then lied. “Yeah, I ate earlier.” The truth was your mom had been away for work for three days, and the fridge was almost bare. 

The small home you came to know felt overwhelmingly spacious as you sat alone, burdened by the guilt of having left your best friend behind. But mere minutes after sinking into your worn-out couch, a knock came at your door. Opening it, you found Wanda, a bowl of steaming paprikash in her hands and a soft smile on her lips.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.

Your face lit up in relief at the sight of the food, more grateful than you could express. Just as you were about to thank her, your stomach betrayed you with an embarrassingly loud growl. Wanda let out a genuine laugh, and for a brief moment, you felt like a burden had been lifted.

“Guess I was right,” she teased, handing you the bowl.

As you eagerly began eating, Wanda settled opposite you, her expression growing serious again. “What were you two even thinking tonight?” she asked softly.

Swallowing, you sighed, “I tried to stop him, Wanda. But I couldn't talk him out of it.” 

Wanda looked down, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the couch. “I don't blame you,” she finally said, her voice gentle, “I never do. In fact, I sometimes wonder how much worse he might've been without you around.”

A moment of silence hung between the two of you before Wanda whispered, more to herself than to you, “I'm so worried about next year.”

Curiously, you looked up from your food, "What do you mean?"

“Pietro's turning eighteen. He was supposed to get a baseball scholarship, but with this run in with the police, that’s probably hanging in the balance now…” she trailed off.

Your heart sank. You had known Pietro had big dreams tied to that scholarship, dreams that now seemed to be teetering on the brink. "And what about you, Wanda? What's your plan?"

Wanda took a deep breath, and her face lit up slightly, “I got accepted into Columbia. It's amazing, really. But…” She sighed, looking down, “Even with the scholarship they offered, I can't afford it. Plus, with everything going on, I think I need to be here, help Mom out, you know?”

“That's tough,” you whispered, feeling a pang of sadness for the bright future she might be putting on hold.

She nodded, “I'm thinking of starting work and maybe attending community college for a bit. It's not Columbia, but it's something.”

“That's... that's just unfair,” you whispered, setting down your bowl, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “If there's anyone who deserves to be at Columbia, Wanda, it's you.”

Wanda looked up, her eyes filled with something you didn’t recognize.

“I wish things were different,” you continued. “I've always thought of you as one of the most intelligent people I know. And not just smart, but kind... genuinely kind.”

She took in your words, the distance between you two closing slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours.

Then, with a flash of resolve, she inched closer. “There's something I want to do,” she began, her voice a whisper. “Something I've wanted for a long time, but it never seemed right. I don't think there'll be another perfect moment, another chance. Not after tonight.”

Before you could process her words, she was leaning in, the space between you disappearing. Your eyelids dropped, and for a heartbeat, everything else melted away as her lips met yours.

For the longest time, nothing made sense to you. That was, until Wanda Maximoff kissed you.

Now

Your best friend's walk down the aisle feels like the longest part of the ceremony–at least to you. The sight is so magical that time seems to stand still. When you snap back to reality, the priest is asking if there's anyone in the crowd who wishes to object to the marriage.

Nobody breaks the silence which lasts a mere two seconds. It's a rarity these days for anyone to object. They only happen now in movies. Modern weddings are more intimate, almost closed-door affairs. The guest list is meticulously curated, ensuring anyone with a complex history with the bride or groom remains absent.

You watch the ceremony unfold, every word, every shared glance, making you feel more trapped by the promise you made earlier. You'd promised to chase that very kind of happiness, the kind that was unfolding right in front of you. Yet as you watch, there's this nagging feeling at the back of your mind, asking if you ever really will.

What they have feels like a world apart from where you're seated. 

You try to be genuinely happy for your best friend, and on many levels, you are. But you–you’re the last person to believe you deserve even a fraction of such a miracle.

Then

The kiss, as Wanda had promised, never happened again.

At least not for the duration they remained neighbors. Soon after, she and Pietro moved to another town for their studies. As for you, you and your mother also moved shortly after their departure, to a nicer neighborhood that’s closer to Manhattan where you also transferred schools.

For five years, you didn't see either of them. No calls. Nothing on social media. But that didn't stop them from occasionally drifting into your thoughts. Especially that memory of your first kiss.

That was until one night, while dining alone in a midscale Soho restaurant, you looked up to find Wanda as your server.

She wore a simple black uniform that most servers donned, but she carried it with an elegance that made her stand out. For a moment, you thought she didn't recognize you, as she professionally presented the menu and described the evening's specials without missing a beat. But then, as she was turning to leave your table, she paused and looked directly into your eyes.

“It's been a long time,” she said, her voice becoming more familiar as she shed her professional facade.

You nodded, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah, it really has. I didn't expect to see you here.”

She smiled, a little sadly. “Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. I... well, I needed a job while I finish my degree.”

You both chatted briefly, catching up on lost time, but Wanda was called away to attend to other patrons. As she bustled about, you found it difficult to focus on your meal, your gaze repeatedly drawn to her fluid movements around the room.  Every so often, your eyes would meet, and she'd offer a fleeting smile, a touch of color rising to her cheeks.

After a while, you signaled for the check. Wanda was quick to bring it over, her fingers brushing against yours as she handed it to you.

“How's Pietro?” you asked tentatively.

Wanda hesitated, her eyes betraying her composure. “He was released from prison about a month ago,” she began, taking a deep breath. “It was tough, but he's doing better now. Trying to change, you know? And he... he misses you.”

Baseball never happened for him. College too. You wished you hadn’t lost your connection together. Perhaps you could have made a difference.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured. “Life just... took over.”

Wanda nodded with understanding, but remained silent.

As you prepared to leave, Wanda slipped a note along with your bill. It read, “It was good to see you again. Maybe we shouldn't wait another five years?”

Beneath these words, Wanda had also written down her phone number.

-

You waited a total of three days to call Wanda.

Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been with other women since she stole your first kiss, but she remained a persistent afterthought in every relationship of yours that ended. 

It didn't help that you'd left a bookmark in her chapter, aware that revisiting it had the potential to alter the trajectory of everything.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it's me,” you hesitated for a moment, wondering if she would recognize your voice after all these years, “From the restaurant, the other night?”

There was a brief pause, then her tone softened, “I hoped you'd call.”

You were grinning so hard that it didn’t occur to you that you hadn’t responded to her in a while when she gently teased, “Took you long enough.”

“Three days isn’t that long,” you defended with a slight chuckle.

“Well, in the grand scheme of things, no. But in the context of us? It felt like an eternity,” she admitted.

And it truly felt that way. Finding Wanda over the past several years hadn't been impossible or even especially hard. Yet, both of you had consciously let things drift. You had navigated through college, and Wanda, well, she'd been engaged in whatever endeavors she had pursued.

But that night, it felt right to call her. And you hadn’t realized you were waiting to find her again.

You and Wanda scheduled to meet some time during the week and the conversation should’ve ended there. But neither of you wanted to hang up, and Wanda quickly asked about your college experience and the new neighborhood you'd settled into after their departure. By the time you both ended the call, nearly two hours had passed, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It was evident; the bookmark you'd placed hadn't lost its page and it was easy to ease once more into its pages.

Now

The sun has set when the newly-wedded couple finally arrives at the reception.

You're seated at a table filled with strangers, but your best friend made sure to place you next to a woman she's been raving about—one she's suggested more than once you should date.

Her name is Natasha and she’s gorgeous beyond words. She's so striking that you find yourself wondering if she's even your type. Typically, you've steered clear of people who seem universally more attractive than you, a defense mechanism to sidestep lingering insecurities from over the years.

But as she leans into your personal space, you can’t help but respond to every question and laugh at every joke she throws your way.

Maybe it’s safe to let yourself enjoy this, even just for tonight.

Then

It was scarcely two weeks since that encounter with Wanda at the restaurant, and there you were, in her bed.

It was cramped and the air conditioning kept failing many times during the day. 

But you didn’t care. 

You had known this woman for almost your entire life, and you'd waited just as long to be in her bed like this: with your arm growing numb under her weight, her head resting on your chest, and your nose buried in her hair.

She stirred slightly, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. “Did you ever think...?” she began, voice hesitant.

“Think what?” you prompted, adjusting slightly so you could see her face.

“That we'd end up here, like this?” she whispered, her eyes searching yours.

You smiled, thinking back. “I don't know if I let myself think about it. But I hoped.”

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”

The sheets beneath you were thin and had seen better days, but it didn't matter. The world outside, with its faint hum of city life, seemed so far away. Yet, the world outside seemed irrelevant. All that mattered was the rhythm of her breathing syncing with yours and the warmth of her body next to you.

Every so often, she'd shift, mumbling half-formed sentences that would make you chuckle.

“Is the penguin wearing a bowtie?” she murmured in her half-asleep state.

You laughed softly. “What penguin?”

“The one in my dream,” she mumbled, snuggling closer to you. “He's quite the gentleman.”

“Sounds like a classy penguin,” you teased.

She smiled faintly, her eyes still closed. “He reminds me of you, in a way.”

“Oh? So, I'm a penguin now?” you quipped, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“In the best way,” she whispered, pulling you closer. “My dapper penguin.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Only you would dream of something like that.”

“And only you,” she murmured, lips against your chest, “Would be there in that dream with me.”

-

While Wanda seamlessly reintegrated into your life, with Pietro, however, things weren't as straightforward. His past, speckled with run-ins with the law and a battle against addiction, made you and Wanda wary of him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You could tell he was on the mend though, especially when six months into your relationship with Wanda, Pietro was able to hold a job for that same duration. Yet, his living situation with Wanda was far from ideal. Their apartment was snug, to say the least. His room was barely big enough to fit his bed. 

You wished you could help, but with college expenses looming over you, your hands were tied. The thought of asking Wanda to move in with you played on your mind constantly. It seemed like the ideal solution: she would have a more stable environment, and Pietro could fully occupy the apartment, giving him some semblance of independence.

“What do you think about moving in with me? I know it's soon, but…” you asked her one night in the quiet confines of your dorm room.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to live here with you,” Wanda said, a bit amused at your suggestion.

“I didn’t mean here,” you replied. “I meant finding an apartment for the two of us.”

“That’s just adding more expenses, Y/N. I can’t let you do that when you can stay here without any costs,” Wanda countered.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “It's not about the money, Wands. It's about... us. Having a place of our own. And it would also give Pietro the whole apartment.”

Wanda's eyes met yours, searching for a hidden meaning. “Are you saying that because of Pietro? You think he's a burden?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, it's not that. I just... I see how much you worry about him.”

Your fingers found hers, lacing together as you both sat on the edge of your bed. “I get it,” you began, exhaling softly, “But I thought about Pietro too. He’d have the apartment all to himself. More space, more independence.”

Wanda's eyebrows knit together in concern. “And what if he…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “Relapses or needs me?”

You tightened your grip around her hand. “We wouldn't be too far, Wanda. And maybe giving him that space and trust will help him more than you think.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know you're thinking of what's best for all of us, but Pietro's situation has always been so... fragile.”

Wanda looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. “I'll think about it,” she whispered.

“Take your time,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Whatever you decide, I'm with you every step of the way.”

“Promise me,” Wanda said, her eyes hardening, like she’s on the verge of tears or something worse. “Promise you’ll be with me always.”

You leaned in, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Always.”

Now

“It’s not everyday you find the person you’ll be spending the rest of your life with.”

Short and sweet, but that's your whole speech, cliches and all.

“I never thought I'd see the day,” you start, nodding towards the newlyweds with a smirk. “But hey, miracles happen.” You raise your champagne glass. “To two people who finally figured it out. Cheers.”

Your best friend laughs, rolling her eyes affectionately at you. “Trust you to keep things real,” she murmurs, clinking her glass with yours.

And that’s when you see her, amongst the cheering crowds.

In the middle of all the people, she stands out. Always has. It doesn't matter where or when, you can always spot her. Your heart skips a beat, just like it always does. It's like everyone else fades a bit, and she's the only one in focus.

Wanda Maximoff. 

Pristine in a scarlet trumpet gown, her hair pulled into a tight, strict bun. A few stray tendrils of hair have escaped the bun, framing her face in a way that gives her an almost ethereal quality.

As you take a moment to really look at her, you notice the fine details. The way the light catches the small diamond earrings she wears, making them shimmer just so. The delicate curve of her collarbone, revealed by the gown's off-the-shoulder design. And her eyes—always her captivating eyes–that hold an entire galaxy, scanning the room until they land on you.

The shock in her eyes mirrors yours, and for a moment, everything else blurs. Your legs wobble, threatening to give way beneath you. The room's atmosphere grows thick, or perhaps you're just struggling to catch your breath.

Beside you, the bride and your best friend, Maria, notices your sudden change in demeanor and follows your gaze to its source. 

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You manage a shaky head shake in response, pushing through the crowd to escape the room. But you can hear Maria, not too far behind, calling after you.

Then

“So, Maria,” Wanda began once your friend had left and it was just the two of you in the cafe. You had been so keen for the two of them to meet. But with Maria spending a whole semester in Germany as an exchange student, their only prior meeting had been a brief video call that interrupted one of your dates with Wanda.

“How did you two get so close?”

“Did I never tell you about that?”

Wanda shook her head, taking a sip from her now lukewarm cappuccino.

“Freshman year. We were looking for this book and it only had one copy in the school library, and believe it or not, we reached for it at the same time,” you recounted with a wistful smile.

Wanda's face shifted ever so slightly, a change you didn't quite catch.

“We both really needed it badly, so we promised to take turns using it, and we ended up studying together for weeks.”

“That sounds like something out of a movie,” Wanda mused, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

“It kind of felt like that,” you admitted, laughing softly. “From bickering about who would get the book on Mondays to sharing our notes and coffee breaks. Before we knew it, we were inseparable.”

Wanda hummed, her eyes flitting restlessly around you.

“What is it?”

Wanda shrugged. “Nothing.”

You frowned slightly, knowing her well enough to see past her facade. “Wands, come on,” you coaxed. “Talk to me.”

She looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “It's just... it's hard sometimes, hearing about these memories you shared with someone else, when I wish I had been there with you.”

“Wanda,” you began gently, “There are moments in your past that I wasn't a part of. But what matters is now. Right here, with you.”

She sighed, her posture deflating a little. “I know. It's silly, isn't it? To be jealous of a close friend of yours.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then it's valid, no matter how silly you think it might be,” you assured her.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. “Growing up, our worlds were confined to that same apartment building. The people, the routines, everything was predictable. And now... being out in the world, seeing you connect with others, it's just... intimidating. And, honestly, a little scary.”

You paused, smirking a bit. “You know,” you began, but Wanda cut in, “What?”

“It's just...Do you even know how happy you make me?” you said, a bit sheepishly.

She looked like she was about to say something, but you quickly added, “Seriously, Wands.”

Wanda blinked, clearly taken aback. “You have this strange way of turning things around,” she said with a soft chuckle, her face turning a shade pinker.

“Because I love you.”

Neither of you had said it up until now. And it’s quickly evident that it was the right thing to say, at the right moment.

She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with her cup. “You always jump in headfirst, don't you?” Then, looking up into your eyes, she added softly, “I love you too.”

You grinned, feeling a weight lifted. “Took you long enough.”

Now

The grand ballroom doors open with a soft whoosh, the muted melodies of a string quartet drifting into the cool night. You step out quickly, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Memories of Wanda Maximoff, which you've tried hard to keep buried, surge to the forefront of your mind.

Maria, noticing your abrupt exit, quickly follows you out. “Hey,” she calls out softly, her heels clicking on the stone path as she reaches you. “Are you okay?”

“Why is she here?” you exclaim, the pitch of your voice inching towards a sharp octave.

Maria gently grabs your arm, offering solace. “I had no idea she'd be here. I promise. She must be someone’s plus one.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your suddenly spinning surroundings.

“Y/N?”

“I'm okay, Maria,” you say, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry about this. It's your wedding, and you shouldn't be out here with me. Go back, enjoy your day.”

She looks conflicted, torn between staying by your side and going back to her new spouse and guests.

After a moment, Maria steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug. “Promise me you'll be okay?”

You nod, hugging her back. “That’s too many promises in one day. But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

It’s just Wanda, you tell yourself.

Just the girl who could always bring out that special smile in you—the same one Maria had when she said, “I do.”

Then

The call came unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

You and Wanda had been dozing in her room for a few hours, following a particularly exhausting fight that concluded with even more exhausting—and mind-blowing—make-up sex.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” You instantly recognized Pietro’s voice. “Hey, listen, can you pick me up? I'm at a bar,” Pietro said, his voice tinged with guilt and slight slurring. “I... I swear I didn't do anything. I got promoted to store manager and I treated a few colleagues to celebrate. I'm a bit tipsy so I... I'm sorry to bother you.”

There was a pause, and you ran a hand through your hair, exchanging a glance with Wanda who now sat up with a worried look.

“Which bar?” you asked, trying to keep yourself calm.

“Mike’s Tavern,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your keys from the nightstand. “Alright, I'm on my way. Stay put.”

Wanda frowned, her gaze conflicted. “I want to come with you,” she said, her brows furrowing together in concern and sleepiness.

“You should stay,” you said, sliding into your jeans. “It's a bit of a drive to New Jersey. You've had a long day, and you need to rest. I'll handle this.”

She bit her lip, torn, but finally nodded. “Please be safe. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“I will,” you said, leaning down to give her a brief kiss on the forehead before making your way out.

-

You didn't call Wanda on your way back from New Jersey, but not because nothing occurred.

Rather, something did happen, and you weren't conscious enough to make the call.

-

You and Pietro made it to the hospital.

Wanda was an emotional wreck, grappling with the challenge of dividing her attention between her brother in ICU and you being wheeled into a separate ward.

An hour later, she didn't need to decide any longer.

Pietro Maximoff's time of death was called just as you started regaining consciousness.

-

The days following Pietro's death were a blur. You'd wake up, immediately feeling the weight of the world pressing down, your every moment drenched in guilt in the form of alcohol and, sometimes, your own vomit. 

Though you weren't close to Pietro anymore, he was slowly turning his life around. And while a drunk truck driver caused the accident, your own haste to get back to Wanda made you reckless. 

That choice haunted you daily.

That choice made you believe that Wanda hated you in secret.

You began avoiding Wanda, her presence a haunting reminder of the brother she lost and, in a twisted way, the brother you felt responsible for losing. The relationship you cultivated turned into something that only existed as a label. Otherwise, it didn’t exist at all. It faded, just like the gash on your face that you acquired from the accident.

Nights blurred into days, and sometimes, it was hard to tell which was which. Friends would find you in bars or on the rooftops, looking worse for wear, lost in your thoughts. Yes, Wanda grieved, but she was also lost without you by her side. She yearned for your comfort, your grounding presence; instead, all she got was your voicemail.

The breaking point came on an evening when she didn’t hear from you for two weeks. On a hunch, she decided to visit your dorm room. The last thing she expected was to find Maria there. While the situation was innocent enough, to Wanda's overwhelmed and grieving heart, it felt like a betrayal. Maria, sensing the rising tension, made a hasty exit, leaving the two of you alone.

Wanda's eyes glittered with rage and sadness. “Is this it?” she demanded. “Is this how we handle grief? You shut me out and bring her in?” 

You looked away, the walls you had put up to protect yourself now seeming like a prison. “It's not about Maria,” you murmured, your voice empty, almost lifeless.

Wanda's red-rimmed eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of the person she loved. “Then what is it? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“Why don't you blame me?” you suddenly screamed, tears blurring your vision. “You should hate me for your brother dying!”

For a few moments, there was a deafening silence, interrupted only by your quiet sobs.

Wanda's hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “I've never blamed you. Not once.”

You remained quiet, refusing to let Wanda lift your chin from your chest.

Wanda continued, “Life is a series of 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. You can't control everything. And neither can I. We both lost him, Y/N. I don’t need more loss by losing you too.”

“Maybe you already have,” you whispered, finally looking into her eyes.

Wanda's voice cracked, “You can't be serious. What are you saying?”

You felt drained, worn out. “I don't know how to be us anymore, Wanda.”

She looked devastated. “So you're just walking away? Because we're hurting?”

You just wanted to be able to breathe again. You just wanted all of the pain to end, even if it meant letting her go.

Wanda's face crumpled, her voice rising. “So, that's it? You're just giving up?”

You could barely muster the strength to speak. "I just think... maybe it's easier this way."

“Easier for whom?” Wanda yelled, unable to hold everything back any longer. “I don't need easy, Y/N. I need you. But if you're so set on this, then be honest with me.”

You took a deep breath, your throat tight. “I think we need space, Wanda. A break.”

For a moment, it looked like Wanda might collapse. She took a step back, her gaze cold and hard. “You think a break will fix this? Fine. But don't expect me to be here waiting when you come around.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left.

The last image of Wanda Maximoff etched into your mind as you closed her chapter.

Now

You half-expect her to seek you out after you left the reception. So, when the familiar scent of Wanda’s perfume wafts over, you keep your back turned, taking a long drag from your cigarette rather than acknowledging her arrival.

“Can I bum one?” she asks, her voice softer than the last time you heard it.

You hand her a cigarette without a word, watching her closely as she lights it. Her fingers, slender and pale, bring the cigarette to her lips, and she takes a long drag, exhaling with a sigh.

She looks so different, yet so achingly familiar.

Her hair is red—a detail you missed earlier. But now, standing this close to her, you can pick out everything that’s changed about her.

And you hate how good you are at doing just that.

For a few minutes, both of you stand in silence, letting the smoke swirl around in patterns before it gets carried away by the wind.

Wanda breaks the silence. “It's been a while.”

“Did you know it was Maria’s wedding?” you ask, finally gathering the courage to look at her.

She hesitates, exhaling a plume of smoke before admitting, “Yes, I did. But explaining to Steve our... complicated history and why I'd refuse to be his plus one seemed harder than just going with it.”

“Steve?”

She looks down, taking a moment before murmuring, “Steve’s my fiancé.”

Your eyes instinctively flit to her left hand, landing on the glimmering diamond ring. It's large and hard to miss, and you almost want to laugh that you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s a long pause between you both before you find your voice. “Congratulations, Wanda.” And to your own surprise, you genuinely mean it. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, an action you still find so endearing after all these years. But you’re not supposed to find anything about her endearing anymore. They’re not supposed to make your heart race. They’re not supposed to make you feel light-headed with desire.

It hits you painfully just how possible it is to stand mere inches from someone, yet feel oceans apart.

Wanda takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily. 

“You know,” Wanda says, her voice soft, “I never really got to apologize for how things ended between us.” She shakes her head slowly, tears forming in her eyes. “I was angry, hurt... lost. And when you tried to come back, I was already seeing someone else. By that time–”

“–so much has happened and I’ve hurt you too much,” you finish for her, a pained smile on your lips. “I’m sorry too.”

Wanda's breath hitches, and for a moment, she's transported back to your dorm room. She's spent a long time wondering what might have happened if she had stayed. But that choice belongs to a different timeline, a version of her that might have been braver than she feels now.

You pause, glancing at your hands before meeting her eyes. “Are you happy, Wanda?” A part of you hopes she's found happiness, yet another selfish part wishes she hasn't—because if she hasn't, maybe there's still a space for you in her life.

Wanda meets your gaze, her eyes shining with a clarity you hadn't seen in years. “I am happy,” she confirms softly.

The unexpected rush of emotion tightens your throat, and your eyes mist over. But you fight it, forcing a big smile that wrinkles the corners of your eyes. 

“That's great, Wanda,” you say. Your heart aches a bit, thinking how happiness can feel like a double-edged sword.

Reading your expression, she asks, “What about you? Are you happy?”

You promised Maria you won’t stop looking for the kind of happiness that brings people together. 

So, now you hang onto the hope of that promise. 

“Getting there,” you answer, the corners of your mouth lifting ever so slightly, “I will be.”

[pepsiboyy]

starboy part 1

P1 P2

pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo

summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.

warnings: just cursing

lowercase intentional!!!

author's note: hii! this is my first story on here and i hope it goes okay?? idk i suppose we will see where it goes. thanks a ton for reading!! let me know what you think! sincerely, apollo <3

my head smacked against the car window, causing me to immediately lift my head and blink a few times.

"morning, y/n. sleep well?" my mom carefully stated while looking at me in the rearview mirror. i shrugged and tried to keep my eyes opened as i watched all of the unfamiliar buildings pass by.

everything was so different here.

-

a few weeks ago, my mom received a job offer here in boston. our family didn't particularly struggle with money, but if she wanted to keep her job, we had to move.

me, on the other hand? i couldn't believe what i was hearing when she sat me down at the dining room table. "what do you mean we're... leaving?" i felt my hands shake. sadness? anger? i couldn't even tell.

"well, i got a job offer-" she started, but i immediately cut her off with my hands slamming against the table.

"fuck your job offer, what about everything we have here!? my friends, my job... everything?" i shouted, my voice beginning to shake towards the end.

"language," my mom started, but let out a deep sigh, "i understand your frustration. that's why we're waiting until you graduate."

-

i let out a shaky sigh at the thought. this wasn't fair. my best friend was still in los angeles, harper. she was my best friend since childhood, and leaving her hurt more than anything i could even describe.

"we're here," my mom breathed, looking at me through the rearview mirror. i could tell she was trying to read my emotions, sadness in her eyes. i stared at her for a few moments before opening the car door and stepping out quickly.

"wow, it's gorgeous." i heard my father say, his arm wrapping around my mom's waist as he kissed the top of her head. i felt myself physically cringe as i grabbed my bags and a few pairs of shoes that didn't fit within the bags. i looked at the house in front of me.

it was pretty nice. fairly homey. very different from our house back in california. i took in a deep breath before beginning to walk towards the door.

-

my room was pretty nice, i had to admit. it was a little bigger than my room back at home- or.. what was home, i guess. i laid against my bed and stared at my ceiling before standing up.

while i was packing, i applied for a few jobs here in boston. a lot of them turned me down as i only have a little bit of work experience, but what can you do? i guess. i got accepted by a grocery store though, one i hadn't seen before. it was called star market? we didn't have those on the west coast, but they're pretty popular here. the pay was minimum wage, but it's a start. it didn't really matter to me. anything to get me out of the house and just do something. get myself out there.

i let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes. with every thought racing through my head, finally i managed to let my mind rest and slowly drift into sleep.

-

"y/n, are you sure you'll be okay?" my mom mumbled, carefully touching my hair and fixing the loose strands. i chuckled softly and nodded. "i'll be fine, just a bit nervous. new place and new job." i mumbled, playing with my fingers. my mom nodded.

"i understand. you'll do great. just talk to your coworkers, maybe make friends?" she asked, smiling. i sighed.

i know she's simply trying to help, but it's hard. i had a perfectly great life in california and i feel like i'm being forced to restart completely.

"right." i replied, letting out a sigh before stepping towards the door.

-

my earbuds were playing music as i walked. i didn't have a car yet, so.. i had to walk. it's right down the street, so no biggie. in broad daylight, i didn't see it as a big deal. i hummed as i turned a corner, and sure enough, it really was right there. i crossed the street and approached the doors, blinking a few times.

so this is my new job. it looked a lot nicer in person than in the pictures. that made me feel a little better. i walked in.

"hi, umm... my name is y/n.. it's my first day?" i mumbled shyly to the older lady standing at the front. she looked me up and down. i swallowed and gripped my backpack's straps, looking around. why was she looking at me like that.

"you're y/n y/l/n?" she started to smile, and i felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"yeah," i smiled softly back.

"cool, let me call nick over." she told me before turning away and beginning to say something into her walkie.

after a few minutes of awkwardly standing with my hands in my pockets.

"hi-"

"oh fuck-" i gasped, turning around and grasping my chest. my eyes widened as i shook my head, "oh god i'm sorry- i didn't mean to say that, you just scared me," i breathed, smiling softly.

the boy laughed softly and shook his head. "oh, girl you're completely fine, i'm the same way," he chuckled.

i smiled softly. i then gasped and quickly held out my hand. "my name is y/n, it's my first day." i looked up at the boy with the nose ring and curly hair in front of me. i assumed he was nick.

"hi y/n, i like your name a lot. it's pretty! i'm nick. lose the formalities, let loose, you're good." he smiled and shook my hand softly before pulling away and beginning to walk away. i followed.

"are you from around here, or?" nick asked, turning to me and beginning to walk to the back.

"ah, yeah.. i uhh, moved here from los angeles, actually." i scoffed.

nick seemed to throw his eyebrows up as he turned to me. "los angeles? really? i've always wanted to go, i've been like once but... i still want to go, doesn't change anything." he smiled before he quickly turned to me. "sorry, it's probably like... not that special to you, but," he shrugged, "it's across the country. i mean, culture shock.... is that a real thing?"

i smiled brightly. something about the way nick spoke to me so casually was really comforting. "oh, it's definitely a real thing."

as we walked towards the back, we passed a boy with similar hair and features, and i blinked at him before i shrugged it off and kept following nick. nick seemed to notice this though, and smiled. "that's my brother, matt," he mumbled, and i smiled and nodded. "you two look really similar." i replied, before we came to a stop.

"this is where you'll clock in every day. just type in your employee number and tap clock in," he told me as he demonstrated. i nodded carefully. "it's totally normal if you don't remember your numbers, i wrote them down for you." he handed me a sticky note. i smiled and folded it, putting it into my clear phone case.

"i appreciate it, thanks." i smiled.

-

"and that's how you do it," nick stated confidently.

to be brutally honest, i was still a little lost. we kept just talking about life, random things. i found out nick and i got along really well, and we were the same age.

"i appreciate you walking me through everything," i breathed, rubbing my arm. as we walked back to customer service, i noticed a boy with longer brown hair kneeled down and putting some things on a shelf. i could hear the music playing from his earbuds from here.

nick looked at me and smiled. "oh, and that's my other brother. chris." he smiled. i blinked at him. "you guys all look the same," i started, and he stopped me. "yeah, we're triplets." he chuckled. my eyes went wide as i smiled softly. "wow, you don't see that every day." i chuckled and walked past chris.

"matt, this is y/n. she's gonna be working up here at customer service with you." nick told him, and matt turned to me with a soft smile. i smiled back at him.

"hi, i'm matt." he mumbled, holding out his hand. we shook hands quickly. this guy was so shy but he seemed cool, too. "hi, matt." i smiled at him.

-

the day went by surprisingly fast. i talked a lot with matt, and found out that we have a lot of similar tastes in music and style. "you should talk to my brother chris, he likes that a lot too," he would tell me. i felt like he said it every other sentence, actually. "wow, i really gotta meet this chris guy then, don't i?" was how i finally responded.

matt nodded with a warm smile. "yeah, you do." he smiled.

he helped me a lot with customers throughout the day, and learning the system. he was very helpful, and the way he spoke with customers was kind of admirable. i was excited to be as knowledgeable as he was to those who needed it.

"what do you drive?" he asked me after helping someone, and i blinked. "oh, i don't drive- i walked here." i smiled at him, but my smile dropped when i noticed him look at me with shock, and some worry. "you walked here?" he asked, blinking a few times. i shrugged. "yeah, my house is literally right around the corner.

"i can take you home, i wouldn't walk around at night," he stated firmly, looking at me with only seriousness. i smiled softly. these guys were really nice. "i'd umm.. i'd like that, actually." i smiled.

"matty-poo, are you clocked out yet?" a voice rang in the distance, very similar to his.

"i told you to stop calling me that, chris. have you met y/n?" he questioned, smiling at him. i looked over at chris and felt like i might stop breathing in that moment.

he was stunning. and he may have looked nearly identical to the other two, but something about his hair and the way it perfectly fell on his head, the way he was dressed so laid back and clearly himself yet still appropriately for work.

"y/n?" i heard matt say as i turned quickly to him and then back to chris. "oh, right, sorry. hi, name's y/n," i chuckled shyly and held out my hand. chris, instead of shaking my hand, dapped me up and snapped softly afterwards. i chuckled. i didn't know people did that in boston, too.

"hi, i'm chris." he smiled softly.

"i gotta finish cleaning up a few things here, if you and y/n wanna head to the car? we're giving her a ride home." matt mumbled as he was getting the trash together. i offered to help, but this guy insisted on doing closing duties for the night.

"oh okay sick, sure. come on, y/n." chris stated and began walking towards the car, pulling his hoodie over his head. i followed closely behind him. it was sort of awkward at first, but i heard his music again and smiled softly. i tapped his shoulder, indicating i wanted to tell him something.

"poppin by yeat?" i asked, and he blinked a few times, fully putting his earbuds away and into his pocket. "damn, you listen to year?" he smiled and put his hands in his pockets.

i chuckled and shrugged. "i dabble. i listen to whatever sounds cool." chris smiled. "good taste." i nodded as we approached what i assumed was their car. a kia sedona. simple, but perfect for them, i thought.

chris leaned against the side of the car, and after some thought, i leaned against the car beside him. "the stars are really nice here in boston, much easier to see than in los angeles." i chuckled. chris looked at me as he hadn't heard the rundown yet. "you're from los angeles?" he questioned, and i nodded softly. "that's sick." he stated and turned back to the sky. "me and my brothers have always wanted to go." he smiled softly to himself.

i chuckled and nodded, having heard a few times but decided to keep my mouth shut. "it's nice, but i guess because i'm used to it, it really isn't that exciting." i hummed. he seemed to understand what i was saying.

we sat in silence for a few moments before he turned to me. "why'd you move?" he asked, and i scoffed. "i um.. my mom got a new job. just like in the movies." i mumbled with a soft laugh, and chris smiled at me. "you graduate?" he asked, and i nodded. "yeah, left a week and a half afterwards." i mumbled. he frowned. "i'm sorry to hear," he replied, and i smiled at him. "don't be. i appreciate it though." he smiled softly. "yeah, no problem."

we sat in silence before he turned to me and popped open his airpods case, motioning it towards me. "airpod?" he asked, and i smiled and carefully took one, placing it in my ear. i checked them beforehand.

he put on music and we sat in silence and listened to his playlist. without a doubt, we had the same taste in music.

"y/n!!! how was your first day!!" nick shouted from the distance as he ran towards their car, making me smile brightly.

-

the car ride was peaceful, i sat beside nick in the backseat while matt drove and chris accompanied him in the passenger seat. chris and matt argued for about five minutes before we left about who would have the aux, and i smiled when chris got the aux and put on a song i was fairly familiar with.

"and then a left here," i stated, humming softly to the music. i saw matt shoot chris a glance, resulting in chris smacking matt's arm.

"aaand it's here," i smiled and sat up, waiting for matt to come to a stop before undoing my seatbelt. "i really appreciate you guys for today, thank you for helping me today and making me feel at home." i smiled gently. "i'll see you guys tomorrow?" i mumbled, and matt shook his head. "nick and i are off tomorrow, but chris will be there." he mumbled, and chris gave me a big thumbs up. i smiled softly and nodded, waving and jogging to my door.

-

considering the store closed at midnight, it was about 12:45 by the time i got in my room and sighed. my parents were asleep. i looked around and hummed to myself.

i'll unpack tomorrow morning, i thought.

i changed and laid in bed in my pajamas, staring at my ceiling. i really did have a great day, but chris and the way he just seemed to understand me really struck me. i looked at my hands and sighed softly.

no way i have lived here for two days and already find a guy cute.

i let out a deep, hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. i'll see where it goes, i thought.

and with that, i slowly fell asleep, looking forward to working with chris tomorrow.

HELLO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT U GUYS THING i feel like i rambled so bad in this??? this is my first thing i've written in a long time and it's very much like..... a pilot? it really goes through the reader meeting the triplets and going through the first day - i APROMISEDJGKSAJDFG it gets more interesting UGHHH ok happy 5am goodnight <333 sincerely, apollo <33

[madhatterbri]

Daddy Issues | C.C.

Summary: You take Christian to your family cookout. Christian being Christian.

Author's Note: Don't take this seriously. At all. Please.

A family cookout is the perfect time to mingle with family and friends. You can catch up on all the important events you missed out the past year. Your family had a cookout every year and this year you made sure you were going. This was the first time in two years you had a new man. A coworker of yours named Christian Cage.

You were worried about taking him at first. He was different then the other men you dated. Sometimes he could be a jerk.

"We are only staying here for an hour, right?" He asked impatiently. Your eyes widened in shock. Your childhood cat almost lost one of his nine lives underneath his car. "I can't believe you actually grew up in Miami,"

"I promise only one hour. Be nice," you whined and kissed his cheek. Christian grumbled yet nodded. He stepped out of the car and looked around in disgust. At least the hour was already counting.

He walked to your side of the car and held your hand. Due to the popularity of the family cook out, the two of you had to walk down the sidewalk to get your family home. Christian made snide comments about the neighborhood. His remarks were worse when in front of your house.

"Are your shots up to date? I don't need you getting tetanus or getting me sick,"

"Christian, the house is fine. Some of my cousins are doctors,"

"My baby!" Your mom shrieked seeing you through the porch door. Christian opened his mouth to make a comment. You glared at him and he decided against it. "Come in. Please come in,"

"Thanks," Christian smiled pushing past you and through the door. Your mom looked at you confused yet didn't say anything. She knew how much you loved him. "Why don't you get me something to drink?"

You decided to introduce Christian to your family. He managed to practically insult all of them. Your police officer cousins were only cops because they made straight C's in school. Your brother was a high school football coach because he was a hack that couldn't make it to the big leagues. Your little sister was wasting her time singing at bars. She was never going to make it as a singer.

"Honey, are you sure?" Your mother asked with a high pitch tone. Christian was in the bathroom leaving the two of you alone in the livingroom. The two of you stared at a picture of your father. "Your father would be rather... shocked about Christian,"

"You didn't tell me your father was dead, sweetheart," Christian spoke and placed his hands on your shoulder. He rubbed your upper arms affectionately. Anyone that saw this would think he was finally being a good boyfriend. He was only thinking of himself. "I'm so sorry,"

"He died when I was a child. Hey, I haven't shown you my old room," you remembered. The hour you promised was almost over. He hadn't been ran out of the party yet. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

You grabbed his hand and took him upstairs. Your family speaking in Spanish talking about him.

"Don't make fun of me," you giggled and opened the door.

"No promises," he replied. You were positive he wasn't kidding.

Your old room was a typical teenage room. Multiple posters and pictures of your family and friends littered the walls. Trophies of different sizes were placed on bookshelves. Stuffed animals laid neatly on your bed.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't have a father?" He asked. Christian locked the door behind him. You turned around.

"It's been an hour. We should go," you chuckled nervously. He placed a hand on the side of your neck giving it a soft squeeze. His thumb ran your bottom lip down. A twisted smile plastered on his face.

"No wonder you like to call me daddy,"

[lyrenminth]

Quiet love 3/?

The things went down from there. You avoided him more than ever while your grieved your friendship and your unrequited love. It was a big loss, so much that you asked money from your parents for a deposit. You contacted the external friend Lydia told you about, and she was looking for a roommate. Her name was Grace and she sounded kind by the phone. You didn't thought it was so bad. Since Justin was preparing for the games he was busy but you could tell he was avoiding you too and that hurt you even more. You stopped having dinner together and it was more like you hiding in your room or arriving late.

When you saw him, you were polite and distant.

The dynamic was killing you inside.

You started packing your things when Grace told you the previous roomate was leaving. You signed the lease to secure your exit. It was time to put your big girl pants.

One day your mom video called you, and she was worried.

"You don't feel comfortable in his house?" she asked.

"It's not that...I need my space. I can't be living in his house forever, mom" you explained. She bite her lip. "Please, respect my decisions"

"That's ok, but I don't want you to go homeless"

You laughed. "Don't worry about that"

"Holly wanted to talk to you" she lowered his voice. "She is worried about Justin"

You felt as if someone was throwing a bucket of cold water on you.

"Why?"

"Justin hasn't answer any calls or messages from anyone since a week ago. She didn't want to panic because the NFL is rough but that's a lot of time. And since you are living with him she wanted you to check on him" your mom explained. "Maybe the stress of the game is taking a toll on him"

You blinked. The Chargers weren't exactly winning but it wasn't that bad. They had a good record.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm going to check on him"

"And how you are doing, darling?"

You smiled through the pain.

"Good I like my new job" you started "And California is great, I meet..."

You told your mom everything about the courses and your discoveries, but you mind was on Justin.

When you finished the call, you sent him a message. He was traveling for an away game so it was less likely to answer you but you tried anyway.

Hello

Your mom is worried bout you.

Be a good son and send her a message pls

For your suprise, he replied within minutes. It was ten pm.

I'll do

Thank you

The three dots appeared, and you looked at the screen expecting something but after a couple of seconds it stopped. And you heart broke more.

Losing a friend fucking sucks.

***

On Sunday, Justin got injured during the game. So you were worried about him and decided to stay a couple of days just to see how he was doing. You told Grace and Lydia about delaying moving in.

You were doing a favor to Holly and Mark while they arrived to L.A. His manager, Ashley was in the house at times too. You met a lot of people from his world. Coaches, therapists and assistants.

You realize how important he was for the team.

They always looked at you in surprise then look at Justin like saying "Who's this chick?" it was uncomfortable, but he never told them you were his friend or his lover either. You were just Y/N.

You made him breakfast often. The doctor was optimistic about the injury, he could move and do many things, but he was grumpy most of the time. Being out of the game was one of the things he hated the most. You helped him to stand up and drive him to the facility for his therapy.

"If you need something send me a message" you said, he was in the kitchen eating breakfast.

"Thank you"

"You welcome"

His eyes were speaking but you couldn't decipher the words.

"The boxes...are you leaving?" he struggled to say.

Did he checked your room? Why? Why does he always act like he cares?

"Yeah, I found a nice aparment"

"I- well, were you comfortable here?" his expression was unreadable.

"Yes, thank you for letting me stay" you grabbed your bag and looked at the clock. "Ashley must be here at anytime. I should go to work, you can change your diaper yourself, right?" you joked.

The truth was the injury made you feel less angry with him. It didn't matter that he didn't want you back, you didn't like to see him suffer. He was still an important person in your life, no matter how painful was to look at him now.

And you promise in middle school to have each other's backs.

"Yes, I'm an expert now" he replied, following the joke. You lingered in your place for a couple of seconds, just to see if he said something, but nope. So you said goodbye and left the house.

When you arrive at noon, Holly and Mark were there. You were so happy to see them too.

"Oh, it is so nice to see you again" you hugged them, feeling relieved.

"Look at you" said Holly at your attire. A pencil skirt and a blazer, both in purple color "You look stunning"

That night you put your best act. Nobody could tell Justin and you weren't speaking to each other days ago. And you were glad to have more familiar faces around.

You were talking about your impressions of California, and Justin didn't speak so much. Maybe he wanted to rest since he looked tired.

"She found an apartment too" Justin added, and he sounded so bitter it made you frown.

Holly and Mark looked at you.

"Wow, it is expensive?" Mark asked.

"Not that expensive"

"Did Justin told you something?" Holly asked, looking at his son.

"Not, not at all. It was just time"

"I bet"

Justin was glaring at you, and you didn't understood why he was mad. Maybe he was feeling pain again. You didn't want to deal with his mood swings.

"You should go to sleep a little bit" you suggested, in a cold tone.

The rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"I'm tired" he sighed.

The mood shifted. You felt the tension in your spine and tried to rescue the night.

"Everyone must be tired" you said, standing up and picking up the plates. "You come from a long travel from Oregon" you said to Justin's parents "You better sleep a little bit"

His parents imitated you, but you noticed Mark side-eyed Justin with disapproval.

****

In the morning, you were preparing in your room for work when someone knocked your door.

It was Justin in all his splendor. Looking grumpy as ever.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure" you said without looking at him.

He got inside and closed the door.

"Are you parents up?" you asked, putting lipstick on in front of the mirror.

That morning you were feeling better. Justin's parents always put you in a good mood.

The boxes were still sealed in the corner of your room. When he didn't replied you turned around to look at him. He was fidgeting with the hem of his Nike shirt.

"Is everything alright?" you prompted.

"Yeah...no, no really" You tilted your head to one side, looking at him up and down. "I'm sorry"

The apology landed in a sore spot.

"For what?" you were using the profesional voice you use for clients. His behavior last night was unacceptable. Ridiculous.

"For lying to you" you frowned "I know, I've always know but I was scared and I'm so sorry for being a coward. And for last night too, I was a douche"

"W-what are you talking about?" you asked, referring to the first part of his speech.

"I like you...I like you since highschool or even before, I don't know" he admitted, quickly.

You stopped breathing for a second, your organs melting inside your body.

"Why did you tell me you weren't sure?" you were cautious. At first you didn't believe him, you needed to prevent any type of miscommunication.

"Because I was scared" he explained, walking three steps toward you only to stop suddenly. You didn't move an inch "I...my lifestyle makes me feel like I can't be in a relationship, I'm busy all the time. I don't want you to feel neglected. It's just that...I wasn't ready for the change"

You studied his words and expression, he sounded and looked sincere.

He got closer again, reaching for you like a giant lost kid.

"Are you ready for the change now?" you asked, not processing completely what was happening.

"Yes, yes I am" he touched your shoulder, and you noticed he was shaking slightly. Poor Justin.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes to hug him carefully. He hug you back, hiding his face on the curve of your neck.

"Justin, do-do you like me?" you wanted to hear him once again. Only to know you weren't dreaming. You looked at him "Is this happening?"

"Yes, I like you"

"Why do you decide to tell me now?"

"My dad sensed something was off and talked to me" he said "I just needed to hear it from someone I trust"

"Hear what?"

"What I'm losing by letting you go"

"I'm going to say thank you to him" he laughed. His expression morphed into something serious, desire. His pretty green eyes scanned your face for a sign, his eyes lingered on your lips. A silent plea. You leaned forward, and he tilt his head only to brush his lips against yours. The warm of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you put your hand on his chest to steady yourself. You could feel how fast his heart was beating. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered aggressively.

He did it again, only to make sure you weren't running away. In the third, his pretty mouth landed on yours, and you opened your lips. Kissing Justin felt right all the way. He was careful at the beginning, but as the time pass you needed more. You tongue search for his, and he gave you all you wanted. You fist his shirt, dragging him down to your height.

"Oh my god!" Holly's voice startled you both. You separate, your cheeks burning red. You glance at Justin who was looking the same. "I-I made breakfast, guys" she said, hiding a smile.

"Thanks, mom" Justin said in the most causal tone he could gather.

"I'll wait for you in the kitchen"

When she was gone, you touched your lips. Justin had lipstick on his lips too. You laughed and he looked at you confused.

"You look good with that tone" you said, looking for a wipe. He looked in your mirror and frowned. You gave him the wipe so he could clean himself.

The breakfast was kinda uncomfortable. Holly was trying to act cool, but you were nervous.

"Are you guys dating?" Mark asked, by looking at your face.

"Yes" Justin said, eating bacon.

His answer made you happy. Was this really happening? He sounded so confident about it.

"About time! I'm calling your mom!' announced Holly only to be stopped by Mark.

You knew your mom made some gestures toward Justin indicating her likeness for him as your partner, but you never expect Holly to like you too.

It was heart-warming.

"Once Justin is recovered you should go to the games, using his number and everything" Holly suggested. You were at some games before, wearing the colors of the team, but never official merchandise (you weren't the most fan) but the idea of being there as his partner was terrifying and exciting at the same time.

Justin looked at you with warmness in his eyes. And you swore he was the most beautiful man in the world.

The idea of dating him was the best.

[alrightberries]

seasons change

PAIRING: dabi x reader

SUMMARY: in which you and dabi are childhood best friends who are bad with feelings.

alternatively, all the words unspoken between you and dabi are summarized with just one short word: goodbye.

TAGS & WARNINGS: implied sex, smoking, kinda unhealthy relationship, implied body horror (it's dabi)

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts for so long; i wrote this before dabi's backstory was officially revealed no one come for me for the wonky timeline

—

six.

you didn't like cleaning houses. or, a better way of putting it was, you didn't like cleaning someone else's house six days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year.

days always ended with back pain and scraped knees from the intense floor scrubbing, and you didn't like the way the wet rags would leave your fingers wrinkled and cramping.

your mom insisted that cleaning was fun because it built character and discipline. you insisted that it wasn't fun, and that cleaning your house was much easier than cleaning a mansion (but, really now, anything was a mansion to you compared to your one bedroom house).

"okay, how about we play another game?" your mom asks with a teasing smile. "whoever cleans the mops the fastest, wins!"

it was five o'clock in the evening and you were tired— your shoulders and elbows hurt and at this point you were ready to pass out in your futon back at home. but work is from seven to seven, and you still had to polish the gym's... red mill? treck mill? you can't remember what they were called.

"but momma, i'm tired." you whined. "can we go home now? i wanna go to school tomorrow."

the wide smile on your mom's face gets smaller, and you don't know how to describe it. she was smiling but why did she seem sad? smiles weren't meant to be sad.

"maybe you should skip school tomorrow too. don't you want to spend more time with momma?"

you do want to spend more time with momma, but you've been skipping school for two months now. you miss your friends. you miss when work was play, and play was play, and play was fun.

when you don't reply, your mom sighs and kneels on the floor, fingers lifting your chin to meet her eyes. "tell you what. how about you rest for now, okay? i'll clean up the mops and polish the treadmills, you stay here. if anyone comes in, just pretend to be cleaning, okay?"

"okay!"

her foot steps pad away when she slides the big door close, and you sigh when you finally sit down for the first time in what felt like hours. but just as soon as the doors slid close, they opened again, and you tense. you knew it wasn't your mom, mom always knocks.

"oh— uh, sorry." a boy, probably the son of your mom's client, murmurs in surprise. his white hair is the first thing you notice, his blue eyes (were they blue? maybe green?) the second. "i saw L/N-san leave the gym and thought you were finished."

"we're almost done," was the only thing you managed to say softly, before— "oh!" you dipped into a deep bow. "good evening, todorki-sama."

"ugh, sama?" you don't see but the boy grimaces. "don't call me that, you make me sound so old."

"i'm sorry, todoroki—"

"—san."

"okay, todoroki-san."

"...you can stop bowing now," he laughs awkwardly, and you straighten up. "my dad says i'm not supposed to talk to you."

"mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you either."

"oh."

a moment passes, and neither of you know what to say. you were still staring at the floor and fiddling with your hands while waiting for him to talk or leave or... something.

suddenly, todoroki clears his throat, awkwardly shifting around. "why don't the adults want us to talk?"

"i don't—"

"todoroki touya!" a firm voice booms from the doorway, and you grab a rag and start polishing the reck mill. you don't turn around when you hear todorki approach his father, footsteps fading away and the door sliding shut again.

no more than a minute later, your mom came back. she lifted your chin again and gave you a kiss on the forehead, small smile on her face when she grabbed a rag to help you clean.

she looked paler than she did when she left, and you don't mention it when you notice her fingers start shaking. you don't mention the red stuff on the white handkerchief peeking out of her pocket, either.

eight.

"i'm bored."

"okay."

"i'm bored."

"i heard you."

"y/n, i'm bored."

"what am i supposed to do about it?"

"...entertain me."

you smile. "entertain you how?"

"tell me about your quirk," todoroki said one day, mindlessly tapping his pencil on the table. there was some kind of math written on the papers in front of him, but it was gibberish in your eyes— you could, just barely, read and count, but you don't know what business a triangle has being surrounded by numbers and the ABCs.

"i don’t have one, todorki-san."

"touya-kun, i told you to call me touya-kun." he grumbles, and you giggle.

"okay, touya-kun." you don't know why touya kept talking to you— he was probably bored, like he said, and maybe lonely— but you liked his company.

"did the counselor say you were quirkless?"

"no," you adjust your grip on the broom. "mom says we can't afford quirk counseling, but she's quirkless so i probably am too."

"don't schools have free quirk counseling?"

school. huh, you haven't thought of that in a while. so you shrug. "i wouldn't know, i don't go to school anymore."

"really?!" he screeches, and you nod. a long, bored groan escapes his lips, and you laugh when be dramatically flops down on the floor. "you're so lucky!"

not really, you wanted to say. i'm just lucky you're homeschooled so i'm not alone. speaking of which—

"are those from training again?" you eye the bruises that litter his arms. you don't think you've ever seen him without a bruise in the years you've known each other.

"yeah, dad's been really strict lately," he says, and you don't get the chance to ask him more about it because there's a knock on the door. you step away from him, going back to sweeping the room just as his mom comes in with a tray of food in her hands, and touya lets out a yell of happiness.

she teases him about his unfinished math homework before she leaves, and you try to ignore the smell of miso and fish his mom made for him. when was the last time you ate? was it yesterday or the other day? you couldn't remember.

"d'you want some?" touya asks when he hears your tummy grumble embarrassingly loud. but you decline. "no, it's okay. your mom made those for you."

"she made too much though, and i don't want it to go to waste."

liar. you've seen him eat, he could eat two servings of what he had now and still ask for dessert. but you keep quiet this time, putting down the broom and accepting todoroki's invitation when he pats the spot next to him.

"haven't you eaten lunch yet?" he asks, and you quietly shake your head as he lends you his chopsticks.

"well, why not?"

"i don't know how to cook."

"doesn't your mom cook for you?"

"she does, but she's in the hospital."

touya tries to think of the past week and realizes he hasn't seen her around, not even heard her voice to call you from another room. so he asks, "is she going to be okay?"

"maybe? the nice doctor said she'll be fine." you reply. touya only nods.

he slips two rice balls in your bag just before you leave that day, telling you to give one to your mom when she gets back from the hospital.

"oh! and tell her i said hi."

he keeps slipping you rice balls after that because you never got to tell her he said hi, and you never got to tell her goodbye, either.

eleven.

there are sniffles coming from touya's room.

the sniffles make you pause mid-polish of a large and empty vase in the hallway, and you've been awkwardly standing in front of his door for a good six minutes now, unsure what to do. should you go get his parents? no, that would make it seem like you were eavesdropping on their son. should you knock? yeah, knocking seemed like a good choice.

so you do; three soft knocks on his door, and suddenly the sniffles stop.

"touya?" you call out, knocking again. "it's me."

there's a moment of silence before the door hesitantly cracks open. he doesn't open it all the way at first, one eye peeking out to make sure it really was you. the door opens fully this time, and you're confused when he peers around the empty hallway, eyes lingering to make sure no one was there, before yanking you inside, arms wrapping around your waist and his head tucking into the crook of your neck.

"touya, what are you—"

"please stay with me," came his little squeak, followed by more sniffles and his body wracking from his ragged breaths. an arm wraps around his torso, the other one cradling the back of his head as you shushed him and reassured him, slowly rocking both your bodies back and forth.

"do you want to talk about it?" you ask quietly, and touya shakes his head, burrowing deeper into you.

you nod. "it's okay, you don't have to."

your words were calm and reassuring but internally you were panicking. all the hairs on your body stood on its end because there was this... smell, one that you could only compare to a mixture of butane and a burning dumpster.

burning skin, your brain horrifically corrected, and every fibre of your being was screaming at you to get the hell out of there.

but then you realize where the smell is coming from, and its only when you lean back do you realize touya's arms were red and raw. how the hell did you not see that before?

"your arms—"

"i know," he cuts you off, voice nasally and choked up. "i don't want to talk about it. you said we didn't have to talk about it."

you sigh, gently coaxing him from where he was still buried in the crook of your neck, and his grip on you only tightens. "i'm not leaving, i promise." your hand begins to rub reassuring circles on his back. "i just want you to look at me."

when you coax him out again, he obliges, but still doesn't look at you. so you do the first thing that came to mind— a habit learned from a hazy memory of your mother.

fingers gently grasped the bottom of his chin, gently lifting up his gaze before soft lips place a small kiss on his forehead. he freezes at first, but he gradually melts into your gentle touch, once again burrowing his face into the crook of your neck as you whispered small reassurances into his ear.

the following day, touya's eyes were a little dimmer and he wore nothing but long sleeved shirts.

fourteen.

When you first came to work on a random Tuesday afternoon, the entire Todoroki estate was quiet. This was normal. They were a family who spoke to each other quietly, never raising their voice or making a ruckus (except for Endeavor). What wasn’t normal, however, was the somber mood that seemed to loom the entire house as a woman with white hair and red streaks— the eldest Todoroki sister, you remember— wordlessly gave you your list of chores for the day before locking herself in her room.

The atmosphere made you uncomfortable. It didn’t help that Touya didn’t even attempt to bother you the entire day either, but you didn’t think much of it. He was probably doing his homework in the study or training somewhere else.

So it came as a surprise to you when, just as you were walking through the park on your way back home, the smell of burnt flesh reached your nose once again and all the hair in your body stood up. Your instincts screamed at you to run, something you undoubtedly would’ve done had a hand not shot out from underneath the bushes and tripped you, forcing you to fall on the ground and meet two familiar turquoise eyes— hidden in the shrubbery— staring into your own.

After getting over your initial shock you took Touya back to the house your mother had left behind. Normally you wouldn’t be allowed to keep a house if you were underage, but lucky for you things the government mixed up your files and you were allowed to inherit it with no next of kin or legal guardians. The house fell to your name, and it was all you had left.

“I- Touya, I don’t know what to do.” You panicked, staring at the angry red flesh on his arms and upper torso. He was lying down on your tiny kitchen table, shirtless and pants charred. Your cleaning gloves did little to hide the shake of your hands, the visual of him in pain and surrounded by bloodied rags. “I can’t treat you. We need to call the hospital—”

“Don’t.” He rasped weakly, breathing heavy. You noticed that the underside of his eyes were burnt as well. Didn’t it hurt him to blink? “You can’t.”

“Why not?!”

“My family thinks I’m dead.”

sixteen.

Around spring, you finally had the guts to resign from your job at the Todoroki household and pursue another one. It wasn’t anything big— just a small waitressing job at a curry restaurant a couple blocks away from your neighborhood. Still, the pay was okay and you didn’t have to watch a family mourn the loss of a son you were secretly harboring.

You weren’t sure exactly what prompted you to let him stay. He told you a little bit of his life— why he did what he did, and though you sympathized with him fully was it really right for you to keep him around?

Maybe it was the feeling of being indebted to him every time you pretended not to see him slip an extra cup of rice or an extra bowl of soup into your take home meals. Maybe it was the feeling of being thankful when he secretly lent you books so you could improve your skills on reading and writing. Maybe it was the feeling of guilt from not making him tell you what was bothering him on the day you heard him crying, convinced that if you had then you wouldn’t be here now. You weren’t sure— but you were glad you let him stay.

“Hey, I’m home.” You called out tiredly, dumping your keys in your bag. A puff of white hair peaked out from behind the couch, and you couldn’t help the amusement in your eyes as you stared at Touya.

“Got another piercing, I see.” You mused as you set down the bag of curry on the diningroom table. Touya didn’t reply as he silently extinguished his cigarette and helped you set the table.

Ever since the day he faked his own death, he’s been... different, to say the least, and you weren’t surprised at all.

He’s been more closed off, more quiet. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t like being a “jobless deadbeat” (his words, not yours) while you worked your ass off to support the two of you; or if it was because he wasn’t used to living “the poor life” (again, his words not yours) compared to his previous life of luxury.

You didn’t have much to offer; just an old but well-kept house that's seen better days, a large futon you and your mother shared, and a life living paycheck to paycheck and buried in debt while he busied himself with chores and whatever he could do around the small house.

Three meals a day wasn’t guaranteed with your budget so you had to cut it down to two a day at most. And even then, there’d be times you’d only eat once. Meals were usually composed of either canned food, instant noodles, leftovers, or raw ingredients that were close to going bad. Touya had never had anything that wasn’t fresh or organic, and the first few weeks were a struggle for his stomach to adjust. But with how he first came to you, his delicate stomach was the least of his problems.

The burns on his skin weren’t treated properly thanks to your limited medical knowledge. You had to keep them bandaged the first couple months he’d stayed with you, and since you couldn’t afford both painkillers and clean bandages at the same time, there was nothing to numb Touya to the pain. Fortunately, he healed just fine. Yet he refused to take off the bandages and let you see the dark purple marks where his tan skin used to be.

You knew it still hurt him to move but you also knew that if you tried to stop him he’d only throw a fit. Doing chores around the house and keeping things clean was, according to him, the least he could do to help. He didn’t clean as well as someone who does it for a living, but his efforts to keep your shared home tidy didn’t go unappreciated. He was fairly okay at cooking simple things that only needed frying or boiling— nothing too complex since he’s never really had a need to cook for himself, much less for another person. Housework was his way of saying thank you, and you weren’t about to take it away from him.

“I don’t understand how you always come home with two curry bowls.” Touya finally speaks, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. “Thought the restaurant only let you have one free take away per day. Do you buy me this shit every night?”

“Yeah, sure, I can definitely do that with my salary.” You replied. “Nah. Luckily one of the line cooks has a thing for me and doesn’t mind slipping me an extra meal. He thinks I have it for breakfast in the morning.”

He scoffs but doesn’t reply.

seventeen.

“Help me dye my hair black,” was the first thing he said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. You had a little bit of money set aside for a present. Nothing too expensive or grand, but just enough that you could actually afford something out of your tightly monitored expenses— monitored by none other than your roommate— that wasn’t cup noodles.

You didn’t hesitate to run to the nearest drugstore to buy cheap black dye and help him with his hair. Black water trickled down the drain as you held the shower head over his hair.

“What’s it look like, doll?” He asked.

“You look like a really ugly wet dog.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who grinded on me like a bitch in heat last night.”

You chuckled. Well, you couldn’t argue with that.

He stopped wearing his bandages months ago. It was a miracle that you found an under the table doctor who agreed to help patch him up for a reasonable price. You already computed everything— the operation that involved putting staples around his arms, face and torso was cheaper than buying fresh bandages every damn day. It’d take the better part of at least three years to pay off, but seeing him grow to embrace the silver studs on his burnt body the way he embraced his beloved ear piercings made you smile.

He’s been starting to go out of the house, too. He doesn’t tell you where he goes— not that he had to— but you were glad he stopped cooping himself up inside.

“You look good, Tou- sorry, Dabi.” You murmured.

His hands were gripping the sides of the tub as you continued to wash the excess dye from his hair, and you pretend not to notice the familiar smell of burnt flesh sticking to his jacket despite the fact that you knew his burns were already healed. You also pretend not to notice the new clothes he wore that definitely weren’t in his closet this morning.

“You look good.”

nineteen.

Dabi only got rougher from there.

He became more crude in the way he spoke, and sometimes he’d disappear for days on end without a single word. You got nervous the first few times he did it, scolding him and telling him to never make you worry like that ever again (he still did).

He’d roll his eyes and yell at you to back off, he wasn’t your boyfriend, stop being so damn clingy. You hated those fights the most. They usually ended with Dabi sleeping on the couch or storming out, and you angry crying yourself to sleep at night. The only thing that brought you comfort was that he always came back.

“I’m heading out, don’t wait up for me.” He spoke, putting on his coat.

“Are you going to come back within the week?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed. “Okay. Take care.”

It’d be hypocriticial to say his secrets bothered you because he wasn’t the only one with secrets. Even with your promotion at the restaurant, even with you working overtime and taking extra shifts to the point that you barely got any sleep, money was still tight. Bills were getting steeper, banks were demanding money from your debts, and groceries were getting more expensive.

It was the line cook that kept flirting with you that introduced you to the scene of underground poker. He was a gambler and decided to take you to one of his games in an attempt to impress you (not knowing about your live in not-boyfriend). He won every game that night and started taking you to all his matches, saying he always played better when he was with you. Even called you his “lucky ace.” You only rolled your eyes but let him show you off so long as he kept slipping you extra dinner every night. That was, until, you learned the ropes and became a gambler yourself and quickly made a name in the underground scene.

Dabi wasn’t dumb. He knew that the money you magically found to pay off his operation from two years ago as well as your debt to the hospital that treated your mother wasn’t from your savings. He knew that the fresh meat and vegetables you started buying from the market weren’t there because the grocer had a sale. And he damn well knew that you secretly quit your job at the restaurant even though you acted like you were still employed, even going as far as putting on your old uniform whenever you left for “work.”

And yet, just like you never questioned where he suddenly got the money to contribute to the household, he never questioned where you got yours.

twenty-one.

It was around your second year of being a professional underground poker player did your secret get revealed to Dabi. You were too careless. The sudden transfer to a “restaurant branch” in the city. The expensive clothes and unexplained budget for much needed home renovations. The appearance of painkillers and anti-irritation ointment (that he definitely didn’t buy) in his bedside drawer. The stash of card decks— clearly only used once at most— that you hid in a duffel bag in your closet.

Dabi didn’t comment on these.

He did, however, comment on the elegenat white and gold invitation to a professional poker match set for this Friday evening, addressed to an infamous masked player who had a record of never losing a single match. How could he not comment on it when you so generously left it out in the open.

“I knew you were up to some gambling but I didn’t expect you to be the infamous Lucky Ace.” He mused one night, holding the prestigious cardboard between his fingertips. He was sure if he tried to sell the invitation he’d get some money for it— he knows what real gold feels like when he touches it. “Never thought it’d be you. They say Lucky Ace’s Quirk is luck. The manipulation of probabilities, both of others and your own.”

You merely chuckled in amusement. You weren’t blessed with the Quirk of luck— you just happened to be a skilled gambler.

“I’ve had a lot of offers for your head.”

“And I’ve had a lot competition who turned up dead and burnt to a crisp before my matches.” You replied. “Thanks for that, by the way. I haven’t received a single paycheck in weeks.”

Ah, that too. Dabi was also getting careless. You definitely knew he was a kill for hire, and you definitely knew he was employed under another professional poker player who wanted to get to the top the easy way. You had a feeling he’s been the cause for your competitors sudden disappearances, and the unexplained duffel bags full of cash that sat next to yours didn’t help.

“Looks like we’ve both been careless.” He lazily threw the invitation to you. “Do me a favor— lose your match with Black Jack tomorrow, will ya? Now that I know who Lucky Ace is, boss won’t be happy that I let you live.”

You scoff. “You want me to lose to a guy who’s initials spell out blowjob? The hell do you take me for?”

Normally he loved your sharp tongue and crude jokes, but right now it wasn’t helping. The bounty on Lucky Ace’s head was too big to pass up, and if you won against Black Jack— his boss— tomorrow then the prize would only double. He wouldn’t be the only one out for your head by then.

He sighed, raising up one hand to show you the spark of blue flames. Intimidate you. He was trying to intimidate you. Or warn you— you didn’t fucking know.

But you merely smirked. “Wanna fuck?”

His eye twitched, and he pondered it for a few seconds. Groaning, he extinguished the flame.

“You’re lucky you’re a good lay.”

twenty-two.

It was in the afterglow of sex that words unspoken revealed themselves.

Well, sort of.

Two sweaty bodies, panting next to each other. The smell of cigarettes and hormones thick in the air. The feeling of lips placing a kiss to your forehead as you wrapped the sheets around your torso, turning as you looked at the man beside you.

“What would you do if you found out I was secretly dating that line cook you hated so much?” You asked. His arm lazily wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest. Dabi took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling, thinking it through. You took the stick from his hand and took a drag of your own.

“Damn, that’s good.” You murmured. “Not even reds can beat seven stars.”

He took the cigarette back from you and flicked off the ashes on the tray next to the bed.

“If you were dating what’s-his-name but still ask me to fuck you at least twice a week then he’s gotta be a virgin or some shit.” He finally replies. “That, or the poor guy’s dick isn’t enough to satiate you.”

“So... you’d be okay with it?”

“Does it matter? I’m not your boyfriend.”

“You could be, y’know.” You murmured, tracing your finger against his collarbone. “My boyfriend— I mean.”

“Sorry, doll. M’not interested in being your mistress.”

You clicked your tongue. “I’m not dating him, you dumbass. It was a hypothetical question.”

That was the closest you and Dabi ever got to a confession. That was the closest you ever got to asking him out after years of sexual tension that turned out to be romantic.

And the little kisses you peppered across his callous knuckles was the closest you ever got to saying “I love you.”

Fortunately, Dabi didn’t reject you or push you away. Instead he stayed the night cuddled up to you, holding your hand and waiting for you to fall asleep before slipping out of your hold and disappearing in the middle of the night for a job, just like he always did.

That was the closest he ever got to saying “I love you too.”

twnety-three.

Dabi doesn’t like telling you shit.

At least, not when you’re awake. He did, however, have a lot of silent conversations with you when you’re asleep. His trips home became fewer and further in between, and every time he stayed he’d only stay the night or for three days at most. You tried to ask him about it once but he was always vague with his answers.

He tells you he doesn’t care, and you tell him you don’t either. He pretends not to notice when you buy the expensive brand of miso broth with your own money because you knew it was the one thing he missed from his old life. You pretend not to notice the fresh cup of tea and warm bento boxes that you wake up to whenever he leaves after his rare visits.

He doesn’t talk that much about his feelings— not out loud. But he does find himself pulling your sleeping form, clad in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, closer to him at night. He finds his arm tightening around your waist and his nose burying itself in the back of your neck to inhale the scent that was unmistakably you, trying to remember it always.

I have to leave you again. He thinks to himself, staring at your peaceful face. I’m not sure if I’m coming back this time.

An invite had been extended to him— from a group that called themselves the League of Villains. It sounded pretentious, he wasn’t even going to lie, but they were aligned enough in terms of ideals that he didn't immediately tell them to fuck off. Still, there was no denying that they were a dangerous bunch. Your not-so-secret lifestyles were separate and there was a mutual unspoken rule that you wouldn’t involve the other.

Unlike your secret job, though, that involved you getting dressed in branded clothes and adorning fancy rings and expensive watches; that involved luxurious invitations to secret upscale poker games; that involved a black sedan that seemed to change number plates every time he saw it pull up to the front of the house to pick you up and drop you off; his job was much more dangerous. He worked with dangerous people, doing dangerous things, playing with dangerous ideals.

He already knew— despite your denial— that your Quirk was definitely luck. Too many things that could be brushed off as coincidence had luckily fallen into your lap. Too many coincidences was no longer a coincidence.

It was your Quirk protecting you, not him, when he kisses your forehead and slips out of your hold for what would be the last time to keep you from harm. At least that’s what he tells himself as gathers his clothes and belongings from around the house, trying to make it look like he was never there. He was a dangerous criminal— a villain now, and he’d be damned if he dragged you into his mess.

He takes one last look at you asleep on your shared futon, trying to burn the image to his mind so he never forgets. He wasn’t going to bring anything that could be traced back to you. He already blocked your contact and deleted all the photos he had of you on his phone, all the messages and call logs too. He’s already done the same process to your phone since you never changed your passcode.

Not a trace of you in his life and not a trace of him in yours, he tells himself as he eyes the shirt you wore. It was his. You could keep it, he guesses. He could just strip you down and get on with life, but he couldn’t do it without waking you up and messing up his plans. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself as he walks away.

He’s got his coat on now and he left you a little bit of cash just in case. Not that you needed it, of course. You were a professional gambler who made more bank than he did. A black duffel bag’s slung over his shoulder that had all his stuff, and he’s giving the small house he called home one last once over to make sure there was never any indication that he was in your life. Will you hate him for leaving? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care if you forgive him or not. This was to keep you safe. This was for the best.

He admires you for the last time as he slides the door open, sighing as he finally admits his feelings— for the first and last time— into the dark of the night.

“I love you, doll.”

And he pretends not to hear the faint whisper behind him when he closes the door.

“I love you too, Dabi.”

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 2)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 3117 

Please interact and comment to keep it going. I always love to know what you think.

This was definitely going to take some getting used to. I stood in front of the mirror, wearing the official Truham Grammar School uniform. The tie felt like it was slowly strangling me, and the color was, well, an acquired taste. But I'd managed to find a pair of shoes that matched the uniform pretty well. Even with all my efforts, it still felt a bit dull.

In an attempt to give it some character, I decided to decorate the blazer with a few sparkly pins. They matched my hair, which I'd styled into a simple wash-and-go, held in place by two vibrant pink hairpins. This way, at least, my hair wouldn't completely cover my face. A little dab of my favorite perfume oil on my wrist, and I was finally ready to roll.

I grabbed a bagel from the pantry, along with a bottle of water, opting for a light breakfast since I planned on walking to school.

"You're up early, and you still have an hour and a half before school starts," my mother said, making me jump a little.

"Yeah, I wanted to check out the school before it gets too crowded," I replied, fully aware that my breakfast choice was about to be critiqued.

My mother eyed the bagel with a hint of disapproval. It was inevitable. "What did I tell you about eating bread so early in the morning? It's loaded with carbs." She sighed, clearly not a fan of my choice. I braced myself, not in the mood for a full-blown lecture on carbs at this hour.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm walking to school, so I'll be burning those calories anyway," I pointed out, hoping it would suffice, even if she still seemed unsatisfied.

"Maybe while you're there early, you can check out the sports clubs they have. It's been a while since you did anything active since you quit ballet," my mom suggested, and I could tell she was about to go down the "you need to be more active" or "this is a fun way to get some exercise" rabbit hole.

"Mhm, I'll look into that and get back to you. Who knows, they might even have a dance club," I mumbled as I made my way to the door. Honestly, joining another dance-related activity was the last thing I wanted. It was pretty clear my mom just wanted me to stay active, but I knew I didn't need it.

My mother smiled. "Perfect! Oh, and will you be walking by yourself? I haven't really scoped out the neighborhood to see if it's safe. What about that new friend you made a couple of days ago?" She rambled on, but I decided to cut her off.

"He'll be meeting me halfway. He just needs to grab a few things from his house," I reassured her, even though it wasn't entirely accurate. Charlie was supposed to give me a tour of the whole school, but he didn't reply to my message this morning. He was probably sleeping. Me and him were talking on the phone until three am. I didn't mind; it gave me some free time to roam around, and I had even brought my camera to take some pictures along the way.

The weather was calm, with the sun not quite making an appearance, yet there was a comforting chill in the air. The walk to school wasn't as bad as I had expected. As I strolled along, the sun's gentle rays peeked through the clouds, casting a soft, inviting glow over the almost deserted streets. It created a serene and tranquil atmosphere that wrapped around me like a comforting embrace.

With an impulse, I retrieved my camera from my bag, eager to capture the charm of the houses along the way. Each home seemed to compete in a contest of vibrant gardens, a burst of color amidst the surrounding calmness. I snapped pictures, hoping to immortalize the essence of this new neighborhood, to make it my own in a small way.

As I continued, I noticed more students in the same uniform as mine. Their presence signaled my approach to the school.

Anticipation bubbled up inside me, adding an extra bounce to my step. Finally, my destination came into view, Truham Grammar School. It stood proudly, its exterior composed of rich, red bricks adorned with intricate details, almost like an architectural masterpiece. The expansive windows allowed sunshine to flood the interior, casting a warm and welcoming invitation.

The school gates were wide open, and a few students were making their way inside. Even though it was early, some kids lingered around. What struck me as odd was that most of them were boys, and they stared at me from the moment I stepped in. It became evident that I might be one of the very few black students here, and I could be the only American in the entire place.

I did my best to ignore the curious gazes and focused on my mission: finding the film department. I had a good forty minutes to kill before class started. And with those forty minutes, I found the library, the lunchroom, the field, and maybe half of the classrooms of this school.

But no film department. Damn, I really needed that tour. I went to message Charlie, who had already sent me loads of text messages.

Charlie: Hey Y/N, I'm so sorry, I overslept!

Charlie: I didn't mean to leave you hanging.

Charlie: On my way now, see you soon! 🏃‍♂️

Y/N: Do you know where the film department is located? I can't seem to find it anywhere.

Seeing the three bubbles pop up on my screen, I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that I would finally get some answers.

“Happy New Year, Truman! Uh, don't forget there'll now be students from all school years in your new form groups. I hope you enjoy getting to know some fresh faces in registration each day.”

Time had gone by so fast. I typed urgently to Charlie,

Y/N: Forget about what I said earlier, do you know where our classroom is?

Thank God Charlie and I had the same class at the beginning of the day; I really needed to make a planner.

Charlie: Wait, form has already started?!

Charlie: Tell the teacher that I am using the loo or something. I have to meet up with someone really quick. Oh, and the number is B25.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, realizing that I still had a lot to learn about British slang.

As I walked down the hallway, the school was bustling with students. It was like a beehive of activity. Students rushed around, opening and closing lockers, talking with friends, and hurrying to get to their classes on time. There was a lot of noise and movement, and it felt exciting but also a bit overwhelming.

I saw groups of students chatting and laughing, while others looked a bit shy or unsure. People had decorated their lockers with colorful stuff and photos. The air smelled like coffee from the teacher's lounge, mixed with the scent of breakfast that some students had grabbed on their way to school.

Navigating this chaotic but strangely exhilarating environment, I felt like a tiny fish swimming in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Finally arriving at the classroom, I couldn't help but notice that the teacher appeared completely fed up with this school and everything it entailed. Luckily, I wasn't late; the class hadn't started yet.

Approaching the teacher's desk, I spoke carefully, "Charlie told me to let you know he'll be a little late because he's in the restroom." Judging by his facial expression, I had worsened his mood, which was already not great.

He sighed heavily and said, "Charlie, oh Charlie, what should I do with that boy? It's the New Year, and his first act is to be late for my class." He rubbed his nose like he had a headache. Then, he turned to me and asked tiredly, "What's your name?"

I hesitated but replied, "My name is Y/N L/N."

He shuffled through a few papers, searching for something, and seemed increasingly frustrated with each passing moment. "Judging by your accent, you're a new student, and I don't see you anywhere in my assigned seating. Since Charlie had the pleasure of being late, you can go ahead and take his seat," he pointed in the direction of Charlie's seat.

My seat was right next to a boy with perfectly combed blonde hair. He sat there, looking relaxed, like he didn't have a single worry. Yet, there was something about his boyish charm that drew me in, making my fingers itch to take a picture.

What surprised me even more was that I could see the outline of his muscles even though he was just sitting. British boys, I thought, can be dangerous.

As I got closer, he looked up from his book, and our eyes met. His hazel nut eyes glistened like brown sugar under the sunlight, and even though our eye contact was brief, I couldn't help but notice their warmth and charm. He was the first to look away, leaving me wondering about our silent interaction.

With a sigh of relief, I placed my book bag on the desk, sinking into my seat as the lively chatter of the classroom enveloped me. The walls were adorned with colorful decorations, instantly transforming the space into a welcoming and joyful environment.

Not wanting to seem impolite, I turned my gaze towards the boy next to me, only to find that he was already looking my way. Uncertain of what to say, I mustered a simple, "Hi."

He responded with an amiable "Hi," accompanied by a warm smile that, I had to admit, sent a pleasant sensation coursing through my stomach. Before I could utter anything else, Charlie rushed into the room, his face flushed and slightly sweaty, clearly in a hurry as he took the seat in front of me.

"Sorry I'm late. Did you find everything okay?" Charlie asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I found everything except the film department," I explained, feeling a bit frustrated.

"You're looking for the film department?" the blonde-haired boy asked, raising an eyebrow. Even his voice sounded pleasant.

I nodded, glad to have someone to share my frustration with. "Yeah, I was wandering around like a lost puppy, trying to find it. It's like it's playing hide-and-seek."

The boy couldn't help but chuckle, and his cheeks turned slightly pink, which was cute. "My mate tried to get into the film department, but he didn't make it. He mentioned something about a secret room at the back of the school, but now that I say it out loud, it doesn't sound too helpful," he admitted.

I laughed too, appreciating his honesty. "No worries. At least I'm not the only one who's feeling clueless."

Charlie watched our conversation, unsure if he should join in.

As the classroom buzzed with increasing noise, the boy leaned in closer, his curiosity evident. "I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch your name," he confessed.

I couldn't help but lean in a bit further and playfully retorted, "Well, I didn't quite catch yours either."

We exchanged friendly smiles, and for a moment, the bustling classroom around us faded into the background.

With the sly smirk on his face, I could tell he was not going to let that one slide, but before he could say anything, the teacher's voice cut through the noise.

"Attention, everyone! We're about to kick off our first form of the day. But before we dive into it, I'd like to introduce a new student who hails all the way from the United States. Her name is Y/N," the teacher announced, his last words barely audible and frankly, quite unnecessary.

My internal feelings were a swirling mix of embarrassment and mild amusement. If only my face could reflect the shade of red I felt inside. If I were a bit lighter in complexion, I'd probably resemble a ripe strawberry. The entire class erupted into laughter upon hearing my distinct American accent. Well, it seemed like being different had earned me some brownie points, at least in the humor department.

I chose to respond with a modest smile, allowing the teacher to continue, "Would you like to share an interesting fact about yourself or perhaps something about America?"

Maintaining my pleasant smile, I replied, "One thing I truly miss from home is wearing regular clothes to school, rather than these dreaded ties." My fingers reached for my tie, and I theatrically stretched it out to emphasize my point. A few students joined in the laughter, understanding the sentiment all too well.

The teacher brushed off my comment and proceeded with the lesson, and I began to feel more at ease, grateful that the attention had shifted away from me.

The boy sitting next to me returned to our playful banter, his friendly demeanor putting me at ease. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, "Nice to officially meet you, Y/N."

I couldn't help but smile back and replied,

“Likewise”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

As we walked down the hallway on our way to the next class, Charlie playfully nudged my shoulder and asked, "So, how was your chat with Nick Nelson?"

I furrowed my brow, a bit confused. "Who?" Our first class had just ended, and I wanted to find my locker to avoid carrying these heavy books around.

Charlie grinned, thinking it should be obvious. "You know, the guy you were talking to in form class today – that's Nick Nelson." Now that I understood, I nodded and said,

"Oh, so that was his name." Finally, I located my locker and began putting away my books.

Continuing with my day's tasks, I couldn't shake the feeling that Charlie's watchful eyes were trained on me. Slightly irritated, I couldn't help but question, "Is there something on your mind?"

Charlie responded with a sly, knowing look and a teasing tone, "Oh, not much, just finding it quite amusing that you're not going to acknowledge the 'moment' you had with Nick Nelson."

This caught me off guard, and I quizzically raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you talking about?" I inquired, genuinely clueless about his insinuations. Charlie appeared flabbergasted by my obliviousness and couldn't hide his astonishment.

He let out an exaggerated sigh of disbelief, "Are you being serious right now? I endured an entire hour of form, and I swear, I could practically see sparks flying between you two. I nearly went blind!"

Brushing off his teasing comments, I calmly explained, "There was no 'moment,' Charlie. We just had a regular conversation, like any two people would."

Closing my locker and gathering my belongings, I redirected our focus, asking, "Are you ready to head to art class? I'd prefer to get there before the hallway becomes too crowded." I looked over at him, but he seemed lost in his phone, furiously texting away.

Waving my hand in front of his face, I couldn't help but jest, "Charlie, are you on Mars? Earth to Charlie!" My sudden interruption startled him, and he offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," he admitted, "I have to meet up with someone really quick. But don't worry, I'll meet you there."

Concerned about his punctuality, I pushed back, "No way, Charlie. You can't afford to be late again. I don't want another teacher upset with me." I exclaimed, but Charlie casually waved away my worry.

"Don't fret," he reassured me, his hand patting my arm comfortingly. "You'll be just fine. You have Mr. Ajayi, and he'll certainly like you." With a smile, he walked away, disappearing into the sea of students.

Walking to class alone again, something was definitely up with Charlie. Perhaps it had something to do with that guy Ben he couldn't stop talking about lately. Charlie had been going on and on about Ben last night, and it made me wonder if there was more to the story.

Finally arriving at the art class, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were getting a bit more complicated than I had anticipated.

Walking into the art class, I felt like I had stepped into a creative wonderland. The room was bathed in soft, natural light streaming in through large windows, casting a warm glow over everything. Canvases adorned with colorful paintings leaned against the walls, and sculptures of various sizes were carefully displayed on shelves.

The scent of freshly mixed paints and the earthy aroma of clay filled the air, creating a sensory experience that hinted at the artistic possibilities within this space. Easels were set up with canvases in various stages of completion, each one telling a unique story through brushstrokes and colors.

In one corner, a potter was working at a spinning wheel, shaping a mound of clay into a graceful vase. The rhythmic hum of the wheel added a soothing backdrop to the artistic symphony.

Mr. Ajayi, our art teacher, stood at the front of the room, engrossed in conversation with a student who was passionately explaining their work. His warm and encouraging demeanor set the tone for the class.

I found an empty seat and prepared for class. As I settled in, I noticed a student chatting with the teacher. When she finished, she strolled over to me, wearing a friendly smile. With her light brown curly hair tied up in two big ponytails, she looked effortlessly stylish.

She took the seat in front of me and said, "I love your pins, by the way. It's refreshing to see some fashion sense around here. They really go well with your hair."

I couldn't help but smile, appreciating the compliment. "Thanks, I guess we have to get creative with these uniforms, right?"

She smiled back, saying, "At least someone gets it. Oh, and the name is Elle, by the way."

She smiled warmly. "Oh, you're Elle! Charlie has told me so much about you," I quickly exclaimed. Elle's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Oh my god, you're Y/N! I should have known; that accent gave it away," she said with a friendly chuckle.

I grinned. "Guilty as charged," I replied. "And honestly, Truham's been an interesting experience so far."

Elle laughed. "I can imagine. Well, give it some time, and who knows, you might even come to love it here."

I nodded. "I'll keep an open mind."

Before we could chat further, Mr. Ajayi began the class, and Elle mouthed, 'We'll talk after class.' I nodded in agreement and turned my attention to the lesson at hand.

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/732678051495870464/as-mr-ajayi-delved-into-the-art-lesson-the-class?source=share

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm just starting this series, and if you'd like to stay updated, please let me know if you'd like to be on a tag list as I'll be creating one.