#but yeah like i was not mad when last year like every couple weeks they were doing interviews/crossovers

[autumnrory]

mfm fans really make everything soooo dramatic whenever they break away from the normal format

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin�� ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

[dreamsteddie]

Once Steve and Eddie come out to the broader world, Eddie's floodgates open, and before interviewers can even think to ask about his "long-term partner and love of my life" Eddie starts gabbing about Steve almost as soon as a microphone is put near his face.

At first, Eddie refuses any and all requests to be on talk shows or long-form interviews. Steve himself has no desire to be interviewed ever, and Eddie wants the media hype to die down before he makes any big appearances off the stage. He knows that if he does the conversation will be a glorified investigation into his private life no holds bared.

So Eddie takes the occasional question after a show or on the red carpet but always dominates the conversation and finishes quickly. He's always dropping little tidbits about Steve, even if it's just talking about whether or not he was able to make the show or how handsome he looks in their matching outfits today.

Once the hype dies down and the media vultures aim their beaks at another celebrity, Eddie agrees to do a couple of talk shows with the rest of the band.

Everything is normal. The focus is on their next leg of the tour and the music video they released last week that went viral. Right up until the last three or so minutes when the interviewer asks, kindly, how his boyfriend Stevie is doing.

Stevie.

As in Eddie's Stevie.

The name only Eddie and Robin have ever called him. The name that used to make Steve flush so pretty when they first started drifting together. The name that still makes Steve give him one of those pleased little smiles that make his heart pitter-patter in his chest years later.

Eddie's hackles are immediately raised at the audacity of this stranger to talk about his boyfriend so familiarly. His shoulders rise, eyes narrowing ready to say something scathing when the rest of the band notices and steps in. Jeff drops a not-so-friendly hand on Eddie's shoulder while Freak steps in to very loudly tell a funny story about the last time Steve joined them on the road. Emphasizing "Steve" a little too much as he does.

When Eddie finally gets to stalk off stage he's let himself get worked into a tizzy. Logically, it's not a big deal but Eddie has always been territorial when it came to Steve and has been even more on edge since they came out. The idea of anyone outside of their family acting like they know them, know him, just because he's married to Rockstar Eddie Munson and shows up in the occasional gossip rag makes him so fucking mad.

As soon as he's backstage he's dialing Steve's number, impatiently running one hand through his hair as the phone rings and rings. As soon as he hears the beginning of Steve's standard WASPy "Hello, this is the Harrington-Buckley residence, Steve speaking" greeting Eddie launches into a long rant about "the audacity of media vultures."

Steve doesn't say a word the entire time, just letting Eddie vent out his frustrations. At the end, Steve lets the silence linger for a little bit before speaking.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"I don't know how to tell you this but you've been referring to me exclusively as 'Stevie' since we came out. I'm pretty sure when we made the announcement you said 'This is my Stevie. He's been my partner for six years.'"

".....what?"

"In fact, I'm sure that's exactly what you said because Robin replaced all my nametags at work with ones that said 'My Stevie' because she has the sense of humor of a middle schooler."

"God fucking damn it!"

They hang up not long after. When Eddie looks up for the first time since he dialed Steve's number he's met with the rest of the band and their personal crew all wearing various faces of exasperation.

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he rocks on the balls of his feet and says "Sooooooo...I may have overreacted."

----

The next day, despite Eddie's hopes that his outburst wasn't that noticeable, his clearly irate face is the subject of every magazine and gossip rag at the grocery store.

Robin frames her favorite one and gives it to Eddie for his birthday.

[ckret2]

Chapter 71 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*this chapter was renumbered to squeeze in the Axolotl plot arc! If you. Haven't read it yet, go back to ch 61 and read it!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[willowsnook]

Your funeral (pt. 1)

hi!! can i pls order bacon with onion in a bowl mikes way, thank you <333

max verstappen x riccardo!sister

My heart is only yours to break

A/N: this will be two parts, I get carried away writing for Max, lmao. So the bolded line and smut will be in pt. 2, sorry not sorry 😘

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Australia 2024

Max last saw you in the paddock in the summer of 2018 following your high school graduation. He had known you for two years, being Daniel’s teammate, and found you shy compared to your older brother. He was 21 then, so the two of you didn’t really talk that much, and he just thought of you as “Danny Ric’s sweet little sister.” 

Six years later, he barely recognized you. You’d let your hair grow out, your muscles were more toned and defined, and it seemed like you’d become the queen of yapping. He had spent 10 minutes creepily watching you from the garage as you talked with Yuki, trying to figure out who you were. It all made sense when he watched Daniel appear, pulling you into a hug. Max blushed when he realized it, trying to shove down all the thoughts he was just having about the mysterious hot girl in the RedBull garage. 

Daniel waved him over after spotting him, and Max made his way over to the group. Your eyes were shining as he approached, excited to see an old friend, and you pulled him into a hug to greet him. He was caught off guard at first but wrapped his arms around you in return, breathing in your ocean-scented perfume. 

“It’s good to see you, Max; it’s been so long!” you cheerfully said to the Dutch man. 

“I know. What has it been, six years?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. He needed to pull himself together. 

“Yeah, I think so,” you replied. Yuki and Daniel were called off to RB, leaving you alone with Max, who seemed a little nervous. 

“So what brings you back?” He asked. 

“Finally have the time off work,” you said. “I stopped coming while I was in school so I could focus on my studies, and then every summer, I had an internship so I couldn’t come to any of those races. Then I got a job right after graduation in St. Tropez, and it’s been so busy but so good. I get to do what I love and the town is so beautiful. I’m a marine biologist, so I always knew I’d get to call some coastal town home.” 

You finished talking breathlessly, and Max looked at you with wide eyes. 

“I think that’s more words I’ve ever heard from you than in those two years when Daniel and I were teammates,” he teased, and you blushed. 

“I was like 16, Max,” you huffed, and he laughed. 

“Are you coming to more races this season?”

“I hope so. Since I’ve been with this company for two years, I have a little more allowed time off,” you told him. 

“It’ll be good for Daniel to have you around,” he said, your heart squeezed, thinking about how rough it’s been for your brother the past couple of years. 

“You’ve been a good friend to him,” you replied softly, bringing your hand to squeeze his. His face flushed and you were amused by the power you seemed to have over “Mad Max.” 

Later, Max walked towards his driver's room after debriefs when Daniel caught up with him. 

“So my sister is back,” Daniel said, and Max continued, not looking at his friend. 

“So she is,” he replied simply. 

“I saw how you were looking at her,” Daniel said firmly. “Don’t make me say it.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Max said, turning to Daniel with his signature smile. “Off-limits.”

Daniel nodded, still eyeing him but letting him go into the room. 

Miami 2024

Since Australia, Max had followed you on Instagram and you had quickly followed him back, which led you down a rabbit hole of what he had been up to in the past couple of years. You weren’t the only one that had glowed up. 

Your company had an office in Miami, so you flew out the week of the race to tour the facility and watch your brother in action. On Friday morning, you were walking through the hotel lobby on your way to the beach when you ran into Max. 

“Hey!” You said brightly as you caught up with him. 

“Y/n,” he said, greeting you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dragged down to your chest, where your bikini was visible under your see-through coverup. “Headed to the beach?”

“Yeah, I figure a day laying out in the sun will do me good,” you replied. 

“I’m sure it will.”

“Too bad you can’t come with me.” You said, subtly testing the waters, trying to determine if your interest was even slightly mutual. Max’s gaze was intense in your eyes, and you could tell he was fighting an internal battle. 

“Don’t flirt with me, y/n. It’s not allowed,” he said sternly, which made you smile wider. 

“Who said I’m flirting with you?” You replied, and he rolled his eyes. 

“I see how you look at me like I’m a piece of meat,” he teased, and you laughed out loud. 

“You’re the one who was literally staring at my tits five minutes ago,” you replied, and he slapped his hand over your mouth, looking around. 

“Don’t say that schatje; your brother has eyes everywhere,” he said seriously, and your eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’ll see you later.” 

Daniel's race did not go well, finishing in P15. You could feel the disappointment radiating off him when he got out of the car and your heart sank. You knew he would try to mask his pain with happiness for Lando getting his first win, but you saw right through it. 

Don’t get me wrong. You were ecstatic for Lando, having met him when Daniel was at McLaren. The two of you were the same age, so you got along easily. Admittingly, you did shed a few tears when he crossed the finish line, but your heart ached for your brother. 

He was silent when he met you after the debrief, and you launched into a very long story about a shark you were tracking off the coast to try and distract him. You hit the 7-minute mark, and things were finally starting to get interesting when Daniel laughed loudly out loud, looking over at you. 

“I love you,” he said, and you smiled, moving into his arms. 

“I love you too Danny,” you told him. 

“No more sadness today, let’s celebrate Lando,” he said, determined, and you grinned. 

Lando was already fucked up when you guys made it to the club that night. You hadn’t seen him after the race yet, so he picked you up and twirled you around when he saw you. 

“I’m so proud of you buddy,” you told him and he smiled. 

“Okay, then buy me a shot,” he replied and you giggled. 

“You make so much more money than I do,” you complained teasingly. He pulled out his wallet, handing you his card. 

“Just use my card for the night.”

You were at the bar waiting on the shots when you felt a presence behind you, a hand casually settling on your lower back. 

“I’m surprised Daniel let you leave the hotel wearing that,” Max said in your ear, causing chills to flare up all over your body. Your red dress was tight on your body, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about catching someone’s attention. 

“Hmm, so that means you like it,” you smirked, turning to step into him. 

“You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, and you shot him a wicked grin. 

“Then get your affairs in order,” you replied before grabbing the tray of shots and moving back to the group. Max followed close behind you, congratulating Lando when you both reached him. You watched your brother narrow his eyes as he looked from you to Max, and you gave him an innocent smile. 

Many drinks later, you danced in the crowd a respectable distance away from Max. That didn’t stop him from openly watching you the whole time, though. 

“What’s up with you and Max?” Lando asked as you took a break from dancing. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly and he gave you a look. “Nothing can happen.”

He nodded understanding, “You think Danny will kill him?”

“Most likely,” you said, sighing and looking back over to Max, who was talking to your brother funny enough. “His funeral, though.”

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and when you came back into the hallway, an arm shot out, grabbing you. 

Max pulled you along to a darker area of the club with a tad more privacy. He stopped in the corner, moving you against the wall and leaving you no time to say anything before his lips were on yours. 

It was a bruising kiss that had you feeling delirious, reaching up to tug his hair, which made him press up against you harder. 

“Wearing that dress just for me hmm,” he said, pulling back before attaching his mouth on your neck, trying to leave a mark. You half tried to push him off but found yourself whimpering instead. 

“Max, we can’t,” you said breathlessly. He finally let up, his lips puffy, as he looked at you with fire behind his eyes. 

“I know, I just wanted to claim what was mine,” he said and you squeezed your legs together at his words. “Now, when all those guys keep looking at you in there, they’ll see my mark on your neck.” 

“You are insane,” you said, amused but then panicked, thinking about your brother. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Maybe,” Max said. “That’s what you get for wearing that dress schatje, and he won’t know I did it. Your funeral.”

You knew drunk Lando probably blabbed immediately after you left him, and those words made that apparent. 

Sure enough, when you made it back to the dance floor, your brother took one look at your neck and yanked you outside, lecturing you about kissing random men. If only he knew. 

pt. 2 here

[literaila]

fighting

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi gets in trouble at school

warnings: they are a family (and hate each other)

last part | next part

*

year three.

your mouth is a straight line, and you know both of them are staring at you. 

you're all sitting in the car, three hours before megumi's supposed to get out of school, and it's been quiet for the last ten minutes. 

you don't have anything to say, you think. nothing that will make sense of the mess in your head. 

and satoru's eyes are glaring into your head, burning your skin. you want to shove him and tell him to leave you alone--even though he's not doing anything--but that seems hypocritical. 

especially considering that megumi is suspended for the rest of the week. 

“okay,” satoru says, after his eyes have basically glazed over from focusing on you for too long. “megumi, can you say something? i think her head's about to explode.” 

“i'm fine,” you hiss. and then you glance at megumi in the rearview mirror and feel a little bad. 

he looks smaller than usual. his eyes are shifting from you to satoru, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn't sure what. and, of course, he's scrunched himself up, almost a ball right behind you. 

you don't want to be frustrated with him, but it seems inevitable. he's just a kid, you try to think, but it doesn't work. when you were a kid you didn't-- 

so yeah, you feel bad for him. not that bad though. you know he knows what you’re going to say. 

megumi sighs (but it sounds more reminiscent of one of satoru’s many whines). “i’m… sorry.” 

he might as well be telling you that he cut out your heart, and blew up a church with how dreary his voice is. 

satoru grins. “there. we’re cool now.” he reaches back and ruffles megumi’s hair. his arms are too long for anything in the world. he's basically an arachnoid. “y/n…” he hums. “you can stop frowning now. he apologized.” 

you glance over at him, unimpressed. satoru will brush this away like everything else. 

even though you know he cares--and doesn't want you to be mad, or megumi to feel guilty. 

his stupid smile almost makes you break, but you look away. 

“sorry for what megumi?” you ask, softly, trying to ignore your stupid roommate. he’s been downgraded. 

“…hitting those kids.” 

“are you actually sorry?” you clarify, even though you know the answer. 

he’s silent. 

you can see out of your peripheral when satoru gives him a nasty look. mouthing something to him. 

at least you know where megumi gets this from. his protectiveness is not unique to you, but at least satoru does it jokingly. at least he only destroys the already destroyed. 

maybe you're thinking too hard about this. 

you sigh, this time, rubbing your eyes with one hand. “look, megumi, we can talk about it later.” 

you could use a break from both of them. a couple of minutes to yourself to... probably cry in your bed and wonder why the world is so terrible. 

“um, no we can’t.” satoru says. “i’m going to be gone later. i told you about my—“ 

you pinch his thigh over the gearshift. “we’ll talk without you.” 

he gasps. “excuse you,” he says, “but i am a part of this conversation.” 

“yes, i think you’ve done plenty to contribute to this, gojo.” 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

you try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace. “just that you’re the one sparing with megumi on the weekends.” 

satoru frowns. “we’re practicing. you want him to be as weak as every other shikigami user in the world?” he asks, rhetorically. 

“i like sparring,” megumi interjects, like it matters. 

“maybe a little too much,” you say, under your breath. 

satoru grabs your hand from his leg, intertwining his fingers with yours. it would be sweet--a nice connection--if you weren't actively trying to hurt him. 

maybe megumi gets it from both of you. 

“okay, megumi,” satoru sings. “you can’t hit your classmates, okay? look i fixed it.” 

you glare at him. then turn into your driveway. 

satoru groans. “why are you both so difficult? megumi, just apologize, and y/n, he made a mistake. he’s not gonna do it again.” 

“i’m not talking about this right now,” you tell him, shaking your hand from his, wanting not to be mad at either of them.

but you’re mad at both. they both suck and you love them too much to even yell. 

“i’m difficult?” megumi retorts. 

satoru groans again and you all get out of the car. 

“go get started on your homework,” you tell megumi, after you unlock the door. “we can talk in a bit.” 

your voice is naturally softer with him. megumi’s too cute to stay angry at. 

satoru doesn’t have that issue. 

megumi looks back at you, his eyes inquisitive, his mouth pinched. “you’re mad at me?” 

you sigh, hanging the keys on the hook. “no, megs. it’s fine. we just need to talk about it. later. 

“you’re mad,” he repeats, all-knowing. seriously, who allowed satoru to raise him? 

“i… maybe a little. not really at you. just the situation.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

you shake your head, hand on your back as you gently nudge him down the hall. “just go hang out for a bit. relax.”

you try not to notice how he rubs his fists, tiny bruises forming on his tiny knuckles.

satoru walks in behind you, bumping into you purposefully. “start writing your opening statement,” he adds, grinning at you both. 

you push him away and megumi rolls his eyes. 

you walk into the kitchen, thinking about moving megumi to a new school—a new family. they’ll probably do better than you’re doing. at least there he won't have one parent who actively eggs him into violence every day. 

you know satoru is following you (because when isn’t he?) but you don’t expect a hand tapping on your arm, and wary blue eyes meeting yours. 

dark blue eyes. 

“can we talk now?” megumi asks, his voice softer than usual. you can tell he feels bad, but you know that it’s only because you’re upset. 

and it’s not even him. you just wish that he had a better response to these things. that he didn’t feel like fixing everything was his responsibility.

you’re not sure where you went wrong, but you know that it was somewhere. 

“megumi… i just need to think for a bit. i’m really not mad.” this time you actually smile at him, because even if he’s beating kids up in school, he’s so sweet to all of you. so cautious.

(except for satoru, but he deserves it). 

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to get in trouble.” 

satoru snorts from behind you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching. 

lord knows he wouldn’t be any help—even if he actually was contributing to the conversation. 

you swallow, because you really don't want to tell megumi anything. not without running it through satoru first, at least. without considering the consequences. 

but he looks very worried, and you don't want to leave him to obsess over this by himself. 

“i just don’t understand why…” you shake your head. you’re not going to make any sense of a nine-year-old mind. “you can’t hit people because you’re upset. you know that.” 

“they were messing with a girl in class,” he says, frowning. then he looks to satoru, his head tilted. “i thought that’s what you told me? i’m stronger, i can help.”

“uh….” satoru scratches the back of his neck, wincing. he's lucky that he's several feet away from you. 

you turn. “what?” 

“i—“ he holds his hands up in defense immediately. “i may or may not have mentioned that we, as in all of us, we’re meant to be upstanders, you know. not—“ he clears his throat. clasps his hands together. “bystanders.” 

“satoru.” you groan, leaning against the counter. at least it's all coming together. 

you need to bug him or something, just to monitor everything he says 

satoru continues. “but i meant in public! with curses. not—not children,” he glares at megumi. 

probably for ratting him out. 

“but you said that if someone was in trouble—“ 

“can you stop talking?” satoru says to him, shaking his head, lips pouting pathetically. “i didn’t raise a snitch.” 

you furrow your brows and megumi crosses his arms. 

“satoru, you told him to fight people?” 

he winces again, adjusting his glasses. “i meant… bad people.” 

“they were bad,” megumi reassures you both because it obviously matters. “they tried to steal her backpack. that’s bad.” 

you sigh, shaking your head. 

you can't believe that you're still standing here, still contemplating what to say to him. 

where did it all go wrong? 

“was the backpack cool?” satoru wonders, going to stand right next to you, hand slinging around your shoulder. he ignores it when you try to push him off. 

he's probably just trying to be annoying. 

megumi frowns. “i don’t know, i didn’t ask her to—“ 

“stop talking, both of you.” 

you ponder running away from all of them and starting a new life. rome is supposed to be nice this time of year, and you’ve been saving up… 

but you’d feel bad for leaving tsumiki with the two of them. plus, satoru doesn’t know how to fill out his tax return. 

“we’re talking,” satoru says, raising a brow at you. “you like that.” he grins at you like he’s solved world hunger or something. 

with his stupid face and stupid mouth. you would move to rome just so you never had to look at him again and feel briefly distracted. 

“i need a minute to think.” 

the two boys share a look. how you’ve survived three years with them is questionable. 

finally, you sigh again, rubbing your temple. “megumi, you know you can’t hit people. why didn’t you get a teacher? violence is never an option.” 

satoru frowns. “what about—“ 

“in the real world,” you correct, glaring at him. “violence is not an option. don’t put your hands on other people. talk to someone.”

megumi kicks his foot against the hardwood. “i didn’t think they’d listen.” 

you nudge his chin, getting him to look at you. “then you tell one of us. preferably not satoru. i know—i understand that you want to help, but hurting someone just to protect someone else isn’t any better than bullying, okay?” 

“yeah, don’t bully your bullies," satoru waves a finger at him. 

you roll your eyes, and megumi looks disheartened—annoyed maybe—but nods eventually. 

not that you expect him to agree immediately anyway. megumi has never been fond of talking. even with all of you, he'd rather hug you than ask how your day is. 

and it's fine, usually. you don't want to push him. 

you also don't want to have to bail him out of jail. 

“okay. good. if this ever happens again i'm homeschooling you.” 

megumi doesn’t seem to mind this, shrugging at the threat.

you pause, then say, “actually, satoru is homeschooling you.” 

the boy frowns. 

satoru nudges your side, giving you a skeptical look. “no punishment? he’s just free to go? last time i tried to—“ 

“you were trying to put megumi in a headlock.” 

“he was eating the last mochi! he knew i was saving it.” 

you scowl at him. “it’s not even his fault,” you say, looking pointedly at him. then you brighten. “and he has to deal with you every day, that’s punishment enough.” 

satoru opens his mouth, holding a hand in the air. then he closes it. 

you turn around to see megumi smirking at him. 

you roll your eyes. “what do you want to tell tsumiki?”

you'll have to pick her up in an hour or two, and she's going to ask questions. plus, megumi's scratched-up hands are not very discreet. 

megumi’s face falls. “um—“ 

satoru starts laughing beside you, body shaking against yours, and you feel like there’s about to be another fight. 

but at least you’re not upset anymore. 

megumi says something to satoru--like shut up--but you're not really listening anymore. just looking between the two like they aren't the most important, special things in the world to you. 

whatever happens, you think, is satoru's fault. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹📕 Number of part: 18/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: It seems that Jungkook and Y/N already realize how they feel about each other. Tensions arise between them because of Doohoon's actions. How can they cope with what is happening? Thank you very much to everyone who reads 💜

⊹ 🫂Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 11. Not your girlfriend. Not your boyfriend.

Another week passed. Jungkook was coming home less and less. He was literally gone for days at a time. He was so engrossed in his work that he even called you only once a day. Sometimes twice, but these conversations were just a few questions and a few answers.

In a week it will be Christmas. And you haven't talked to him about how to plan the celebration. Does he agree to go to Suwon or maybe you together can go to a party at his friends' place. He's not going to work on Christmas Day like he has for the last two weeks, is he?

You don't know why he's working so hard. Maybe it's really a lot of work, but is it that so important that he doesn't come home for several days?

Jungkook's absence was making you irritated. The fact that you couldn't talk to him on the phone made you even more irritated. You could have gone to see him if you knew where he worked. It was also annoying that he would call just to ask if you were okay, and ask you what you were doing almost every minute. That's it. That's all he cares about.

He reassured you by telling you that Doohoon wasn't following you. But you didn't believe Jungkook. How can he explain what he knows about your life together? And his constant interrogation about what you did, who you were with, what you were doing seems like an exaggeration. He's even careful tell you where you need to go alone and where it's better to be in a company. It's annoying.

On Saturday night, when Jungkook was away for the second day, you decided to call him to find out when he was going to come home and if he had any plans to come home at all. There was no food at home. You were not inspired to cook and you were going to go to the store to buy dinner. Before you do this, you ask your friend what he would like to have for dinner.

"Hi." - You greeted him first when you heard him pick up the phone.

"Hi, baby." - Jungkook said in a tired but gentle voice.

"Will you be home tonight?" - You asked almost emotionlessly. You were angry with Jungkook. And there were many reasons why.

"Umm..." - Jungkook thought. "Yeah. I'm going home now." - He finally answered.

"I'm going to go to the store. I don't want to make dinner. What would you like?" - You continued to speak colorlessly.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes. We can go out for dinner together. Do you want to go to Kyochon Chiken? We were going to go there." - Jungkook suggested. You felt happy for a moment, but then you got angry. It hadn't been two weeks since he remembered.

"I don't want to go. I'll eat at home." - You refusing. You don't want to go anywhere with him. He disappears for days. He doesn't communicate normally and now he's decided that as soon as he offers you something, immediately run to him. No. That's not gonna happen.

"Why?" - Jungkook was surprised. You could have told him the reason directly, but you decided to make excuses at the expense of critical days.

"I have pain in my lower belly. I'm also not in the mood. I'll go to the convenience store near our house and get something to eat. You didn't say what you wanted." - You answered irritably.

"Your lower belly hurts? Are you having your period?" - Jungkook asked with concern.

"Yes." - You said shortly.

"Then don't go outside. It's cold and dark out there. Do you want me to go buy something, or do you want to order delivery?" - Jungkook suggested. You exhaled a sigh. It sounded so good, but you protested inside. You didn't want to do what he wanted.

"I'm already dressed and I'm going downstairs, so I'll go by myself. For the last time, what are you having for dinner?" - You said. In fact, you were still sitting on the couch, but you had to answer in such a way that it wouldn't be like Jungkook wanted.

"You're a stubborn girl. You need to be punished." - Jungkook said playfully. You wanted to switch off. His flirtatious voice was annoying.

"I see. Bye." - You hung up without waiting for him to answer. Irritably, you dressed, cursing the jacket that for some reason fit you terribly today and the hat that had disappeared somewhere. You pulled the hood over your head and went to the store.

It was really cold and dark outside, despite the streetlights. It was snowing quietly, and it fell silently under your feet, but as soon as you stepped on it, it made a noise. You wrapped yourself up tightly in the jacket and walked quickly, towards the store, trying to get it over with as soon as possible.

To calm your nerves with something tasty, you bought a whole bag of groceries. A kampab, two bento boxes (ready-made sets with rice, fried chicken and side dishes), three sandwiches with egg, ham and cheese. You also bought your favorite chips with butter and honey, cheese sticks that Jungkook loved, a carton of banana milk, choco pai, and chocolate brownies. All of this was supposed to cheer you up in your downcast mood.

You returned home quickly, because you never liked to go shopping for a long time. Whatever caught your eye in the store immediately ended up in your shopping cart.

Jungkook was already home. You saw his shoes and the jacket he wore the last time he was home. The water was running in the bathroom. Your heart was beating fast, but you didn't quite know if it was because you were annoyed or because you were going to see your best friend after so many days.

You took the packages to the kitchen and began to take them apart. Jungkook came out of the shower and saw you and immediately walked in your direction. With your peripheral vision, you saw his figure approaching. He was dressed in wide-leg sweatpants and a large black T-shirt.

Jungkook came up to you and hugged you from behind. You continued to put out the groceries without paying attention to him. He buried his face in your forearm and held it.

"Let me go. I want to heat up dinner." - She said coldly, finishing with the groceries.

"I missed you." - Jungkook says and his voice vibrates on your skin. Jungkook's hugs are always pleasant and welcome. However, you are hurt and don't want him to touch you at all. You put a little strength in your arms and pull out of his embrace. Jungkook watched you in surprise. He had guessed on the phone that you were angry with him. He seems to know the reason why, too.

You put two servings of bento boxes in the microwave while slicing kimpab. You notice that Jungkook is as silent as you are. He walked over to the table where you were preparing dinner and looked at your face.

"Why are you offended?" - He asked with a soft smile. You ignored your friend. He looked down to follow your movements and then looked back up at you. "Baby, you have to tell. In order for everything to be good between us, you must speak." - Jungkook insisted.

"I'm taking an example from you. Is it nice, right , when you ask something and be ignored?" - You answer indifferently. But your heart is pounding. You are holding back your emotions, which threaten to burst out of you at any moment.

"I never ignore you." - Jungkook says in his defense. "Just tell me what I did wrong and I'll explain it to you."

"You're all doing wrong." - You say. Jungkook exhales nervously. The same words again.

"What does that mean, Y/N? What am I not doing?" - Jungkook asks, trying not to lose his temper. You're not saying anything. After slicing the kimbap, you take it to the table. For a moment, the memory of the last time you had sex with Jungkook pops into your head. Because he was right at this table. You were lying on it naked and Jungkook fucked you so well. You quickly shove these thoughts away and turn to the microwave to pick up the food.

Jungkook is silently watching you do this and it's starting to piss him off. He has a lot of trouble at work, and he doesn't want to make any trouble with you too.

"Honey, let's talk normally. I don't want to fight..." - Jungkook asks you, but you abruptly stop halfway to the table with chopsticks in hand.

"I'm not going to fight with you!" - You say sharply. "I'm just annoyed that you don't tell me anything. You've been gone for week. Now you're following me instead of Doohoon. What the hell is going on? Why don't you ever tell me anything? I ask you a thousand questions and you don't answer any of them." - You say quickly and indignantly. Jungkook looks at you, thinking about what you said.

So he really doesn't tell you anything, ignores the questions you ask, and doesn't come home. Because you're not supposed to know what's going on. Doohoon is pesters a lot to him, and this causes problems at work for Jungkook. He solves them without Namjoon knowing where they came from. He's really watching you, and it's not just the daily interrogation on the phone, but his people are doing everything to keep you safe. You're not supposed to know that either.

He ignores your questions to save you from unnecessary anxiety. He does everything in his power, but then he comes home and meets you. Hurt and angry with him. This all puts pressure on Jungkook.

"Okay. What exactly do you want to know?" - Jungkook exhales. He tries to answer your questions to calm you down.

"Tell me the truth. Did Doohoon follow us?" - You ask, afraid to know the truth.

"He's not anymore." - Jungkook answers. You feel irritated. It was expected, but he was hiding it.

"So he was watching and you didn't say anything. Why?" - You ask.

"Because I didn't want you to be nervous about it. I told you that I would take care of everything. And I did. You don't have to think about it." - Jungkook replies. You look at him and feel the anger boiling inside.

"I'm not a fucking kid who can't handle it. I'm an adult and I can take care of myself. I know taekwondo. So even the fact that this asshole is following me doesn't make me afraid of him." - You say sharply. Jungkook nods his head, agreeing with you. Yes, you know how to protect yourself. But Doohoon is much more dangerous than you can imagine. He's not the man you used to know.

"I know you're not a child. But I could see that it scared you. I just wanted you not to worry about it." - Jungkook explains.

"You're not my daddy to think about such things." - You say angrily. Jungkook is annoyed that you're acting so arrogant.

"Don't be like that. Doohoon is a rare piece of shit. He just showed up out of the blue and woo to you. He can hurt you. I'm supposed to just sit back and watch?" - Jungkook can't take it anymore. You freeze, because you were just about to sit down at the table.

"Are you jealous? I'm not your girlfriend, so you don't have to nervous about Doohoon. I wouldn't accept his advances anyway, and you know it. But hurt me? He's a shit, yes, but he would never hurt me." - You say as you sit down at the table and don't see Jungkook almost freak out at your words.

"Y/N!" - Jungkook calls out to you, menacingly. "Don't say those words to me. Doohoon is dangerous and I know it. You're important to me and I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Yeah." - You say mockingly. You're amused by the fact that Jungkook is jealous you to Doohoon. "You can defend me, please. But you don't have the right to hide things from me. If there's a matter that concerns me, you have to tell me. I'm telling you again, you're not my boyfriend or my daddy to decide for me what I should know and what I shouldn't." - You start eating without waiting for Jungkook. His portion is standing next to you, getting cold. Jungkook stands somewhere behind you in absolute silence. The only sound is you tapping your chopsticks.

"So, since I'm not your boyfriend and definitely not your daddy, I guess I need to stay out of your business. You're a big girl, you can handle it yourself." - Jungkook says with resentment in her voice.

"Yes." - You say nonchalantly, not even turning to him. "You shouldn't control where I am and who I'm with. Not tell me where to go and when to stay home. I've noticed how you've been doing that lately. Just because you fuck me doesn't mean you're in charge of me." - Jungkook freezes at your words. So you don't need his concern. That's what you think about all of this. He turns around and walks out. You follow him with your eyes. Jungkook takes his jacket off the hanger and gets dressed. You feel yourself pounding inside. Is he going to leave?

"Where are you going?" - You ask as you stand up from the table and watch him put on his sneakers. He doesn't say anything and you laugh hysterically. Is he offended? Is he really offended? You are the one who is offended. Maybe you were a little harsh, but you had to defend your boundaries.

"Jungkook..." - You call out to him, but he doesn't seem to hear you. Finally, he picks up his phone and the keys that were on the front table and slams the door with a loud bang. You are stunned.

You cannot sleep. Five hours have passed since Jungkook left. You lie in bed for almost two hours, trying to sleep, but you can't. Jungkook is gone and you don't know if he will come back.

You can't write to him because you are angry that he ran away. You want to write because you're worried about where he might be, but you probably won't. He could have go to Jimin or Taehyung. Or go to work. There are many places he could have gone.

At some point, you start to think that you were too harsh in your statements. On the one hand, you sounded like a real bitch. But you think you were right. On the other hand, you can understand Jungkook. He has always cared about you. And his actions are completely logical.

But you're annoyed that it's more like taking care of a child than taking care of your condition. You're an adult now and can handle such news. Like "someone is watching". It's not pleasant, it scares you a little, but it's not the end of the world, which you would not survive.

You are already silent about the fact that he has been gone for days. You miss him. Fucking critical days, they made you such a bitch and are to blame for your hysteria.

An hour passes by. And almost as you're falling asleep, you hear the sound of the combination lock. You lie there, hesitating whether to go out to him. Less than a minute later, you hear something falling. You immediately get out of bed and go to the living room.

Jungkook is standing at the front door, holding up his phone. You look at him and notice that he's leaning on the walls, trying to stand up. He's drunk.

Seriously drunk? Did he get drunk after a fight? Or did he just get drunk because he wanted to? You didn't know for sure.

Jungkook noticed you looking at him. His gaze was tired, his eyes slightly closed. His cheeks were a little red, either from the cold outside or from the alcohol. Perhaps two options are correct. His jacket was unbuttoned. He smiled slightly when he saw you, but it wasn't a sweet, playful Jungkook smile. It was sarcastic and hard.

"Are you drunk?" - You asked, although you wanted to state a fact.

"Do I look sober?" - Jungkook answered with a question to a question. You felt irritated. He took off his jacket, took off his sneakers and staggered away walked toward the couch, passing you. He didn't even look at you.

"I didn't realize you were so impressionable." - You say ironically, turning in Jungkook's direction and approaching the couch. "Do you think it's okay to run away, get drunk, and come back like this?"

"None of your faking business." - Jungkook says with a smile. He speaks lazily with an emphasis on the last words. Is he deliberately annoying the hell out of you? "I drink if I want, I run away if I want. You're not my girlfriend or mommy to worry about that." - Jungkook to mimic you. You want to punch him in the face and wipe off that horribly cocky smile. Anger captivates you, making you tremble. But you laughed at the way he used your own words about you.

"I guess. Good, so do what you want." - You say finally, and you're about to leave. But Jungkook grabs your hand and you fall into his lap. He wraps his arms around your hips and holds you tight. You can smell the aroma of alcohol mixed with his perfume. "What are you doing?" - You protest. You wriggle as much as you can, but you can't get free. It must be Jungkook's favorite thing to keep you captive.

"You were a real bitch today." - Jungkook says to you when you give up on his lap. But his words make you even angrier.

"What?" - You ask angrily, turning to face him. Jungkook is close, and you feel butterflies in your stomach at the closeness. You haven't been together for a long time. He smiles defiantly because he sees you peeking at his lips. Jungkook is looking at your lips too, but longer than you. He wants to kiss them. But he's so mad at you for what you said to him.

"Want I fuck you now?" - Your best friend asks you. You're taken aback. You don't understand why he suddenly suggested this. He looks at you with desire and you don't know what to do. It both pisses you off and makes you want to agree on it. But, you are on your critical days and you can't do it anyway.

"You're crazy. Let me go!" - You shout, trying to break free again. Jungkook doesn't loosen his grip.

"Why? We don't care about each other anymore. We can fuck without that, right?" - Jungkook provokes you again by saying that.

"You're an idiot. Why are you twisting everything I said? I meant you should be honest with me when it comes to me. I trust you and you hide everything from me. I could have not told you about Doohoon, but I did. I didn't hide anything! And you! You're out and about, you're not home. I miss you, you idiot, and what do you do? You remember me for two minutes a day. And now you come all caring and tell me you were protecting me?" - You shouted at Jungkook. He listened to you and couldn't help but think about how cute you were when you were angry with him. So attractive and hot. He looks at your face and can't stop thinking that he seems to be falling in love with you.

You stopped screaming and fell silent. You were breathing heavily and trying to compose yourself. You were shaking all over.

"I really have a reason for not telling you. I have always protected you and I will always protect you. I made a promise to your dad..." - You laughed hysterically when you heard about that promise.

It was when you were 18 years old. When Jungkook came to your house to pick you up to celebrate your birthday. Your dad probably realized that Jungkook was a grown man and that you had become an adult too. So he made him promise not to hurt you. That he would take care of you and that no one could hurt you, including him.

"So what..." - You said with irritation.

"You should have understood me." - Jungkook complains. Maybe he's right. But it's really annoying that he didn't tell you anything at all. "Doohoon installed a camera outside our apartment and bugged my phone. That's how he knew we were living together." - Jungkook confesses to you. You thot who wanted to know the truth.

"A camera? Is he a sick fuck?" - You ask, feeling horrified.

"Yes, he is. He thinks I'm his enemy. So he might use you to hurt me. I'm worried that he might actually do that. That's why I'm watching you so closely. Do you understand? When I say he's dangerous, I mean he is." - Jungkook finally finishes. You didn't expect this. You knew Doohoon was crazy, but to install a camera... You relax in Jungkook's arms.

"If you had told me everything right away, this wouldn't have happened." - You say, alluding to the fight that happened twice today. "Where did he set up the camera?" - You are curious to know. Jungkook is silent, definitely not willing to tell you. But your menacing look convinces him.

"On a pole, facing my bedroom window." - Jungkook answers. You feel like everything inside of you is breaking. Oh, my God. You've been having sex in his bedroom. Does he really know about that?

"Jungkook..." - You're stunned. "We had sex there. Did he...?" - You can't say it out loud.

"He knows we're fucking." - Jungkook replies, completely calm. It doesn't seem to bother him. You look at him with your mouth open in horror.

"What do we do now?" - You ask.

"Nothing. What can you do about it? Let he know." - Jungkook answers you with a cheerful voice. You didn't share his joy at all.

"What if he tells someone?" - You are worried.

"Who? He doesn't know my company. Probably I think this information is more beneficial for him to use you as leverage against me. No one who knows me cares who I fuck." - Jungkook says, somewhat nonchalantly. You remain silent, not knowing what to make of this. Maybe nobody cares, but there are your friends. If they somehow find out, what will they think of you two?

Jungkook touches your cheek with his hand. He sees how upset you are about all this. That's why he took care of you. But you are restless.

"And now? Camera none? He's not tapping your phone?" - You are worried.

"No. It's all cleaned up." - Jungkook assures you. You exhale a deep breath. What a day. Crazy. You are silent for a while and Jungkook is the first to break the silence.

"So you missed me." - He suddenly says, remembering what you were screaming. You blinked and turned away. Did you really do that? Did you confess to him when you were under the influence of emotions?

"Did I say that?" - You asked. Jungkook smiled slyly.

"Yes. You said you miss me because I'm not home for days." - He remembered. You didn't know whether to admit it or not. But you had already said it out loud. Is there any point in denying it?

"I don't know. I could have said anything out of anger." - You decided not to confess. Jungkook laughed. You didn't expect him to put you on the couch with one deft movement and push you down from above. He is very close, and you can't bring yourself to stand it. You look at his lips, which you want to kiss so desperately. But your pride can't let you do that.

"So do you want that I to fuck you today?" - Jungkook purrs against your lips. He's waiting for an answer.

"First you have to promise me that you'll always tell me the truth from now on." - You demand, speaking directly into his lips. Jungkook does nothing for a moment. And then he touches your neck with my lips. He's perfectly positioned between your legs. His lips leave wet trails on your neck from your jaw to your chin. Lazy, gentle kisses that make you want more. They're hot and you can smell the alcohol on Jungkook's breath. Which seems to be intoxicating you, too. But you're on your period. You can't have sex tonight. Jungkook kisses your earlobe, biting down lightly. You enjoy his caress.

"I promise to tell you the truth." - Jungkook promises. He pulls away from you to say something. "I'm sorry, baby. It's all my fault." - You hear his words and your heart breaks. You put your hand on his face.

"I'm sorry too for saying mean things to you. I appreciate you and I value your concern." - You say sincerely. "Just be honest and I will always listen to you." - You say.

Jungkook doesn't answer, he takes your hand in his and kisses the middle of your palm. His soft lips kiss your hands and you feel those butterflies for the second time that day. God you can’t fall in love with Jungkook, but he does things with to you. You don't even know if you haven't already done.

After giving your palm a few gentle kisses, he leans down and kisses you on the lips. And it's not a passionate kiss. It's a caring, tender, and almost loving kiss. His tongue tastes of whiskey. You wrap your arms around his neck and respond with no less tenderness. But as soon as your tongues touch, the kisses easily turn passionate. Jungkook can't kiss you any other way because he wants you. He's also missed you on his lips. He needs you, damn it.

Jungkook pushes you a few times, rubbing his already hard length into your pussy. You can't tell if you're wet from his kiss and thrusts. You're on your second day of your period, so maybe it's just blood.

"Let's make up for real." - Jungkook offers with a sly smile as he pulls away from your sweet, plump lips.

"I'm on my period. We can't..." - You say regretfully. You would never turn down sex with Jungkook, but right now you have no choice.

"Why?" - He asks, not worried about it at all. You raise your eyebrows.

"What do you mean? I have blood in there, you know..." - You explain.

"Oh, that's great." - Jungkook says and slides his hand under your shirt. He feels your breasts and squeezes them lightly. You try not to let out a moan. "Cause I can come inside you." - He says right into your lips.

You freeze at his words. You hear your pulse pounding in your ears. Your heart is pounding like crazy. You thought you couldn't have sex during your period. But Jungkook assures you that it is possible. Do you want him to do it? Yes, one hundred percent yes. Jungkook kisses you again with such passion that you already want him harder than you ever wanted.

"Let's go to the bedroom." - You say, agreeing. Jungkook is triumphant. He gets up from the couch and grabs your hand. In one push, you're on your feet, but a moment later he throws you over his shoulder and holds you by the buttocks.

"I could walk on my feet!" - You shout at his ass, which is almost next to your face. But your protests go unanswered.

Jungkook carries you into his bedroom and carefully, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you off his shoulder. He puts you on the bed and climbs on top of you. He kisses you on the lips, filling your mouth with his tongue. Your kiss is greedy, deep, hot. Your friend goes down to kiss your neck. He kisses you needily and at some point bites you to taste your skin. You get high on his actions. This man is just your drug.

Jungkook takes off his T-shirt and sweatpants. He keeps his Calvin Klein boxers on until to undress you. You think that his sheets will be stained with blood and not only that. But with how Jungkook quickly undresses you, seems he doesn't care.

You are naked in front of Jungkook in just half a minute. He looks at you and he like it’s so much see your naked appearance. Your nipples are erect and they needed him to kiss them.

He goes down to your breasts and takes one of the nipple into his mouth. He sucks on it, swirls his tongue around it as if to taste it. A moment later, when he releases the nipple, he bites it. You grab the sheets to numb the pain. You feel more pleasure than pain. You wish Jungkook would fuck you as soon as possible. The other nipple gets the same attention, but Jungkook doesn't bite it.

"Come on, Kook... come inside me." - You beg as he kisses you between your breasts and lowers you to your stomach. He would like to taste you, but not this time.

His rigid length also wants to be free of tightness. So he listens to you without question and is already taking off his underwear.

You see Jungkook's cock bounce as he crawls toward you. It's erect. Cum is dripping from the end of it. You're impatient. You want him to fill you as soon as possible. Jungkook doesn't stretch you like he usually does. He immediately puts his erect cock at your entrance. He promises to enter slowly so you won't feel any pain.

When Jungkook plunges into your centimeter by centimeter, you won't feel any pain. Maybe it's because of a strong desire, or because of your period, or that he is very careful. Even though he didn't stretch you, it was the first time you felt him enter you painlessly. You are ecstatic.

You moan at the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim. When Jungkook is completely inside you, you feel him twitching inside you. The sensations are crazy.

Jungkook moves after you're both used to it. Your eyes are closed in delight and incredible pleasure. He fucks you deeply and slowly, giving you completely different sensations. Every time you feel like you're going absolutely unhinged. But all the other times just can't compare. Jungkook moans over you, too.

You clutch the sheets in your hand again because you can't stand this bliss. Jungkook finds your hands and raises them above your head. He intertwines your hands and you dig your nails into his palms. You moan because it feels so damn good.

"Open your eyes." - He asks in a hoarse voice. You hear his request and open them. You look at each other with adoration. Jungkook's eyes are full of lust. You will never forget that look. Jungkook kisses you deeply, pushing his cock inside you.

His thrusts are just as slow and deep. You are going obsessed from this sex. You moan into Jungkook's mouth and he starts moving faster. He stops kissing you. You don't close your eyes and neither does he. You look at each other again.

"Mine." - He tells you again. "Only mine." - You think you're going lost your head. These words during sex like this will drive you crazy. You realize that you are really his. And you just can't be with anyone else but him. You want to be his. You want to belong to him completely and finally.

"Yours." - You breathe out. He kisses you again. You're drunk on his whiskey-flavored kisses, or you're drunk on feelings. Jungkook speeds up his movements, moaning along with you. You feel that your orgasm is close. Your walls tighten around Jungkook's cock and you cry out his name.

Jungkook cums after you, fucking you until his cum fills you. It's hot and spills inside you. His cock twitches and after a few seconds, it softens. Jungkook falls down on top of you, exhausted. You feel his hot breath on your shoulder.

You together lie there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath.

Jungkook gets up and kisses you on the lips. Gently, tasting each of your lips. He finally pulls away and smiles.

"You're gorgeous, baby." - Jungkook compliments you. But he did all the work.

"You're amazing." - You tell him. He nibbles on your lips and stands up. He slowly pulls out of you and you feel the blood mixed with Jungkook's cum dripping onto your legs and the sheets.

"You and I have made a mess." - Jungkook says as he gets out of bed. You sit up straight and see the blood. It doesn't surprise you, you both knew this would happen.

"Making the bed at two in the morning again." - You groan in frustration.

"It's almost three." - Jungkook corrects you. You turn a disappointed look at him and he laughs. "Go take a shower, baby. I'll clean it up." - He promises. You can't help but smile. You also get out of bed and walk over to Jungkook to give him a grateful kiss. You kiss him, reaching for his height. When you run out of air, you part your lips.

"Baby, is it okay that I'm drunk?" - Jungkook asks, worried.

"I think I'm drunk too from your tongue. Therefore, if we are both drunk, everything is fine." - You're joking. Jungkook smiles.

You go to the shower and think about nothing but what Jungkook said. "Mine." The way he said it affects you so much. It’s impossible. Have you really fallen in love with your best friend?

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[potlattice]

Moth To A Flame

Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: mentioned underage drinking, toxic!Rafe, implied drug-use, manipulation

Rafe gets Topper's girl under control...

"Get your bitch under control." Rafe snapped at his friend, rolling his eyes at your sorry state.

Topper kept quiet, trying to get you to drink the cup of water he held to your lips but you slapped his hand away.

"Fuck you, Rafe." You slurred, eyes blurry as you stared up at the tall figure that stood behind your boyfriend.

He took a threatening step towards you but Topper quickly intervened by placing a hand on his chest.

"Don't touch her bro."

"He already has." You scoffed, leaning your head against the wall behind you and closing your eyes with a painful sigh.

Your head was pounding and your legs weren't working, so the cold floor felt harsh against your thighs. You had been sat, propped up against the brick wall outside the Cameron mansion for about ten minutes now while the boys argued.

"The fuck?" Topper asked aloud at your mumbled words. "What does she mean, Rafe?"

"She's wasted. She doesn't even know what she's saying." Rafe reassured him with a shake of his head. "Just get her out of here. She's ruining my party."

"Yeah, whatever." Topper nodded, running a stressed hand through his gelled hair.

"Put her in my room." Rafe said, looking down at you like you were gum on the floor. "Then come join the party again."

"I can't just leave her there alone. Someone might...find her." Topper frowned.

"Dude, my door locks from the outside too." Rafe rolled his eyes at his friend's hesitance. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and passed them to his friend.

"You want me to lock her in?" He asked doubtfully. "What if she needs help? Wha-

"Fuck sake! Enough with the questions." Rafe groaned out, taking a step back from the both of you. "You're ruining my high. I'm going back inside."

He headed for the patio door but just before he went through he turned back to look at Topper.

"And bro, if you start feeling guilty, just remember that she put herself in this position...and deserves to be punished, okay?"

Topper just sighed and stared down at the keys in his hands.

You were laid out on the soft cotton sheets, lightly singing to the music that played a floor below you.

Although your body hadn't sobered up yet, your mind was coming around.

You felt awful for your boyfriend. Even though you were slightly mad that he'd abandoned you in Rafe's room with nothing but a lamp on and a glass of water, you knew that you'd ruined his night. Again.

What was wrong with you? For the last few weeks, every time you went to a party with your boyfriend and his friends, you lost control and took it too far.

Last time, you said it wouldn't happen again but you knew it wasn't true.

Rafe knew it too.

You closed your eyes at the thought. Shame pommeled your stomach and you clutched it as you felt nauseous.

You were starting to believe he wanted you and Topper to break up now. If you so much as put a toe out of line, he was the first to notice, and the first to tell Topper to 'sort it out'.

At the thought, you scoffed and looked around the room that had become very familiar to you.

He was a very possessive person. It was obvious even through his belongings. The room was bland, but Topper had mentioned one time that Rafe kept most of his possessions locked away in his wardrobe or under his bed.

That's why you'd been pleasantly surprised when he had barely reacted after you started dating Topper.

A year ago, you had met Rafe first. It was for a birthday party at some frat house off the island but he'd also been there because you shared a mutual friend.

You had kissed a couple times and split a cigarette but after you caught him talking to another girl later in the night, you had stormed up to him and demanded he give your number back. Rafe refused but you were good at hiding.

Until your boyfriend introduced you to him 'for the first time' six months later...

"Well, well, well."

You barely had the energy to lift your head, but you recognised the deep voice and didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention as he locked the door behind him.

"Look at you." He mused, standing over you with his hands buried in his pockets, a grin pressed to his face. "Comfy?" He asked with a snicker.

You frowned at him. "Where's Topper?"

"Don't worry. My sister's keeping him entertained."

Your heart clenched at his words and you licked your lips. "He'll come get me soon."

"No..." Rafe drawled out, taking a seat beside you. "I think we'll be alone for a long time."

"Get away from me." You gritted out, shifting your body away but your head spun as you lifted it from the pillow.

"You should relax. It must really be kicking in now."

You frowned at his words but reached a hand out, trying to grab your phone from the nightstand. Rafe saw your actions and tutted loudly. He leaned over your body, uncaring that he squashed you below his heavy frame, and snatched it from your weak grasp.

"You can stop panicking. I won't do anything tonight. I've taken too many drugs." He rolled his eyes and started to scroll through the contents of your phone, already knowing your password. "You got any good pics on here?"

"Fuck you." You muttered with a deep exhale.

"Is this supposed to be me?" He laughed, turning the phone screen to you and you squinted at the bright blue light before your eyes managed to focus on the contact name:

X DO NOT ANSWER X

You would have blocked him but as your boyfriend's companion, it was handy to have his number when Topper wasn't answering.

Your eyes began to get heavy as he took up a relaxed position beside you, resting against the headboard as he had fun on your phone with no regard for your privacy.

His face was lit up by the glow of the screen and your eyelids finally fell shut just as his expression changed to one of elation.

"Bingo." He said lowly and you hoped he hadn't forced his way into your hidden photos.

back from holidayyyyy, just dropping an idea for a series i had in mind...

[rogue-durin-16]

TOO LATE?

Request: hey honeybun<33 can I request prompt #56 with either Luz or Lieb? Can it be post war, they bump into each other or something? Also can it be angsty??? I love your writing style and I'm so glad you're back!!!!

Summary: Joe had lost his chance. If there was any glimpse of hope about it, it vanished in Chuck Grant's narrow staircase, thanks to an unexpected encounter with an old friend.

Prompt:

56. "I'm happy with them." "That's not fair!" "Why?" "'Cause I loved you first!"

Pairing/s: Joe Liebgott x Reader/George Luz x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Requested by: anon

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, allusions to sex

A/N: dear anon, I don't know why you'd do this to yourself. You know it's gonna be Angsty™ when I write it in one go at 1am lmaooo. Enjoy <3

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The stairwell in Chuck Grant's building was quiet, filled with the muffled sounds of the city outside and the worn groans of old wood under my feet. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, least of all him. But there he was—Joe Liebgott, coming up the steps, freezing in his tracks as soon as he saw me.

Chuck mentioned it; that Joe started to drop by from time to time. After a couple of years of radio silence, even Grant found it odd. He wasn't complaining, though, so I made no comment on it, but I was undeniably bitter about Joe not reaching out to me at any point —after what we had been through, I expected a letter.

At least during the first few months. Then I managed to put it in the back of my mind, even after Chuck told me he had had him over a few times. But with the man frozen in front of me, there was nothing I couldn't do to ignore it.

For a second, we both just stood there, staring like we’d seen a ghost. But then Joe broke the silence with that easy, almost casual look that hadn’t changed since the war.

"Look what the cat dragged in." He climbed down the few stairs he had left behind from the fourth flight in order to give me space to go down.

"Long time no see." My replied was laced with a shy, half smile directed to the ground below us instead of at him.

"How have y—"

"I should get g—" I was quite sure he caught my sentence, but maybe I wanted to give his a chance. "What?"

"How have you been?" He leaned back against the landing's rusty railing, eyes roaming my form. He was seizing me up. I did the same.

"Could've been better, but could've been worse." I shrugged, a bit lost in every slight change his face and body had suffered since I had last seen him. "You?"

A shrug. He pretended to think about it. "Pretty much the same. Busy."

"I figured." It was the remainder of the betrayal I had felt a few weeks ago. Not too noticeable, but by the look on his face, he still knew me enough to catch on it.

"You mad?"

Was I?

I rolled my eyes with a soft sigh. "A little bit, yeah. I think." I chuckled at my own confession.

He scratched the back of his neck, finding it a bit difficult to meet my gaze, despite it not holding any real resentment. "'M sorry, sweetheart."

"Joe Liebgott apologizing? That's new."

"Alright, quit it."

There was a familiar fondness wrapping around us, one I presumed long lost.

"I'm glad you're seeing Chuck. It's doing him some good to have you around." It was genuine. I think that was the reason why Joe turned bashful. He almost looked embarrassed about it.

"I could tell you were visiting, ya know?" He shoved his hands in his coat's pockets. "You still use that awful perfume. Sticks everywhere."

"You're so rude." I laughed, trying to go past the fact that he still remembered the perfume I used to wear back in Toccoa.

We simultaneously stole careful glances at each other in silence. I would have never imagined Joe Liebgott at a loss of words, but there was a first time for everything and we weren't the same kids who couldn't shut their mouths to save their lives.

Or perhaps the conversation was over and neither of us wanted to acknowledge it.

Squeezing my purse, I mustered the courage to bid him goodbye. "I should g—"

“Do you miss them?” he asked, tone casual, though I could hear something tight in it, like he’d been thinking about the question for a long time.

“Who?” I asked, then quickly understood. “Oh, the boys?” Joe nodded and I forced a small smile. “Yeah, kind of. I mean, I talk to Malark whenever I can. Bill writes me letters, surprisingly.” I laughed, a little wistfully. “Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t expect that. Ran into Tab recently, too—crazy as it sounds. George…”

My voice trailed off, and Joe tilted his head, noticing my hesitation.

I shouldn't have mentioned him, but I had a knack for getting carried away whilst talking to Joe.

"George what?"

I felt heat creeping up my neck and tried to look as casual as possible, though I knew I had already given it away. "It’s just… complicated."

"Complicated?" he asked, leaning forward, curiosity bright in his eyes. "What d’you mean, complicated?"

I didn't want to lie to him —not after all this time apart—, but the truth was uncalled for.

"Oh c’mon, tell me." He wasn’t letting this go. "I know I'm not the brightest but it can't be that complicated."

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly gave in, glancing away as I spoke. "I lost contact with him for a few months but uhm- well one day he gave me a call. Said he got my number from Toye." I cleared my throat. "He invited me over, y'know, to catch up. I stayed with him and his family for a while, and…" I flashed a tentative glance at Joe who seemed a little too slow picking up on the direction this was about to take. "we- uhm, we ended up hooking up."

Unexpectedly, he laughed; it was obnoxious, louder than necessary, his voice echoing up the narrow stairwell.

"What’s funny?" I crossed my arms, suddenly annoyed, though I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t just laughing at the situation.

"Nothin', just-" He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face. "Out of everyone, I’d never have guessed it'd be George Luz."

I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be insulted or amused. "Why? What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno... 'cause he’s George, and you’re…" he motioned his hand vaguely at my form. "you." Joe shrugged, like it was obvious. "Didn't see it happening."

"Well, guess it happened." I said, shrugging back. I didn't know what to do to get out of that situation.

Although I had walked into the conversation by myself, this wasn't the ideal scenario to talk about George and I's circumstances, nor the ideal person.

"Was it a one-time thing?" Joe pressed on, and he sounded almost afraid of what I might answer.

"Uhm... no." I felt us sank deeper into a hole we wouldn't be able to crawl out of. Why was it so hard to tell him? "No, actually it's been happening for a while now."

His expression had a certain intent, as if he waited for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. "What is it about him?"

The inquiry caught me off guard, and I felt strangely self-conscious. "I guess... gosh it's gonna sound so cliché." I half-laughed, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks. “He just... he makes me laugh."

Joe’s laughter turned hollow, and his expression shifted slightly, though I couldn’t quite read it. "I used to make you laugh, too."

I met his gaze, suddenly unsure, memories flooding back. "Yeah, you did."

"So... why not me?" He tried to sound like he was joking. His humor had never been the healthiest but I knew not even this fell into that category.

Although the question threw me off, I decided it was best to play dumb and keep the mood light.

I decided it was best to keep him at arm’s length. "Don't know. Maybe 'cause you didn’t invite me to stay at your place for a month." I joked with a giggle that sounded anything but truthful.

"Damn, that's tough." The attempt at banter rang out of him, his eyes tentatively meeting my elusive gaze. "What if I did that now?"

I blinked, confusion plastered all over my visage. "What?"

"What if I invited you over?" He didn’t look away, his expression uncharacteristically intense, like he was finally saying something he had wanted to for a long time.

"Joe…" my fingers once more clutched my purse, feeling unsteady, unsure of how to respond. The words we usually threw at each other so easily were suddenly too heavy.

"Too late?" he asked, the desperation showing now, cutting through his usual swagger.

The question hung between us, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn't even know if there was anything to say at all.

It had taken us so long to get to this point; I wasn't sure if it was worth it anymore.

Then he took a step back, his expression twisting into something I hadn’t seen from him. Some kind of pain flashed through his eyes. "I don’t think this is fair, y’know?"

"What d’you mean?" I questioned, although I wasn't eager to find out where this would go.

"I mean…" A bitter scoff resounded against the landing's walls, making me flinch. "I don’t think it’s fair that I just what—lost my chance? To George Luz?" His voice grew louder as he threw his hands up in the air.

I blankly stared at him, dumbfounded by his attitude that so clearly came from a wounded ego. "Joe, you didn’t call. You didn’t even write. All I had was radio silence for a good couple of years. What did you expect?"

There was indignation in his sneer. He turned his head away from the sight of me. "I needed time."

I nodded, trying to seem understanding despite everything, but due to his hostility, I couldn't refrain my tone from sharpening. "Yeah, I know. We all have our rhythms."

Joe scoffed, the noise escaping in a sour huff. "And yours just happened to match Luz’s, huh?"

That hit a nerve. I straightened, pushing myself off the wall where I had fought to stay leaned on until now. He was hurt, but that wasn't an excuse to take it out on me. One would think, after all we had been through, he would have already learned it.

"Fuck you." I muttered, turning to leave, but he was quick to hold me back by my bicep.

I yanked my arm free, meeting his gaze with a glare, and I would have sworn they didn't have that glassiness to them a few minutes earlier.

"You jealous?" I challenged, not caring if I was pushing him too far.

He laughed harshly, his mouth twisting in a forced smirk. "Of what? Luz?"

"Yeah." I was daring him to deny it. He knew it.

Joe rolled his eyes. "You’re kidding me."

"Oh, so you’re not jealous?” I leaned forward, watching his face closely, but he didn't venture to meet my eyes again.

His jaw clenched tightly, his expression betraying him.

"You know why you’re jealous, Joe?" I pushed further, the words spilling out before I could think twice. "Because you didn’t have the balls to do what Luz did when you had your chance."

He snapped, and his voice came out in a near-shout. "You think that’s it? That I didn’t have the balls to get into your pants?!"

Vexation and anger flooding through me, flaring me up until it wasn't containable. "You think that’s all this is about?!" I felt my own voice rising, almost laughing at how ridiculous he sounded. "You think all Luz did was 'get into my pants'?!"

When he turned back to face me, I gave his chest a firm shove. "Told you it was complicated. I'm sooo sorry, darlin'," my words were venomous and they clearly stung him. "I forgot you have the emotional range of a goddamn brick and can’t understand anything beyond that."

"What, he wrote you a love letter and proposed?" Joe spat, doing a half turn, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "Give me a fuckin' break."

"Fine!" Joe shortened the already ridiculous short distance between us. He was past the point of backing down. "You wanna know the truth? Luz just wanted to fuck you! That's it!"

"God, Joe," I whispered, shaking my head. "You're so stupid, it's painful to watch." It was my turn to step back. His chest heaved, although he was trying hard to conceal it. Tipper used to say if we didn't end up together, we would burn each other to the ground. He would be so disappointed if he could see us now. "You don't get it, do you?"

The words hit hard, sharper than I expected. That same thought had relentlessly haunted me, not much with Luz, but with him. My loud scoff was sour and sad all at once.

"And you didn’t?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I watched him, waiting, knowing there was nothing he could say to take back that moment, a grim laugh tearing my throat.

"Did it even occur to you that maybe I wanted to fuck him too?"

"Jesus Christ, Y/n—" The visible disgust twisting his expression hid a kind of pain beneath the surface. "I'm not fuckin' interested."

"Really? 'Cause you look pretty interested to me."

Joe backtracked, inhaling sharply as if he was about to craft a scathing remark to hurt me more than I had hurt him already.

"Do you even feel something for him?"

"Yeah, Joe, that's why it's fucking complicated!" My voice cracked; I blamed it on the yelling, but I knew better.

"What- what-" he groaned, trying and failing to understand where the complexity of it all lied. The frustration was only driving him further off the edge. "What's so complicated about it then?!"

He looked at me, desperate and confused. This was most likely his last chance and he was blowing it. "Get what?"

"That maybe —just maybe— I wanted you to-" My voice broke off, words I had never said getting caught up in my throat. "I wanted us to be more than... Whatever this is."

The long awaited confession was so out of place and time, it was as painful to admit as it was to listen.

"A part of me expected you to..." My eyes welled up. "I sent you a couple of letters after we came back. You didn't even... and George- he did." I added, feeling the weight of the truth crashing us both. "He was there. He still is, and yeah," Joe refused to spare me a single look. "I want to be with him. And that’s why it’s complicated, Joe."

He stared at me briefly, his shoulders sagging and the frustration melting into something closer to defeat.

"He doesn’t care about you." it was a whispered lie, more to convince himself than to hurt me.

It hurt me either way. That's where the following revelation came from, because I would have never said that to him otherwise.

"You wanna know what happened, Joe?" I sounded tired. More tired than I had been in two years. "He told me he was in love with me." His face twisted, the confession hitting him like a blow. "And if you tell me he's lying I'm gonna punch you in the face, because turns out I'm happy with him."

It was the first time I had acknowledged it. And it had been in front of Joe Liebgott, out of everyone.

"Well, that’s not fuckin' fair." he muttered under his ragged breath, almost too quiet to hear.

I found myself once again bewildered by his words. "Why isn’t it fair, Joe?"

He seethed, his eyes dark with something that looked painfully close to heartbreak. "Because I loved you first."

I just stood there, frozen, his words lingering in the silence that suddenly felt so loud. The anger that had lit me up moments before faded away, leaving behind a strange hollowness.

Joe's face was still twisted with deep sorrow. And yet, even now, he was clinging to his anger, like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

I swallowed, struggling to find anything to say, something to fill the empty space between us. But there was nothing.

He was waiting, maybe even hoping I would give him something to hang onto, but I was tired.

Tired of fighting, tired of waiting, tired of wishing things had been different. Tired of trying to understand him when he kept pushing me away.

"Okay." It was all I could manage to get out without breaking down.

He watched me, his expression hardening as my silence stretched on, hurt seeping into his eyes until there was no anger.

I took a step back and he clenched his jaw, his mouth twitched as if he was trying to measure his words; maybe to craft his emotions into something that would reel me back in.

But that just wasn't in his nature.

"Yeah," he hissed, a pained chuckle escaping him. "Thought so."

I was ready to clap back, to tell him it wasn’t that simple, that none of this was simple, but the words felt pointless now. And I knew if I didn’t walk away, I would get drawn back into the storm of feelings that nearly consumed me once.

I couldn't do that, so I turned and left, my footsteps heavy as I went down the stairs, his stare burning a hole on my back.

When I reached the first floor, I allowed myself to stop, clinging onto the railing. A part of me still hoped he would have called after me, say something—anything— that could have made this hurt less. But the only sound was the low hum of the city outside, filtering in through the paper thin walls.

I blinked away the burn at the corners of my eyes and climbed down the last flight of stairs. By the time I reached the building's entrance, all I could hear was the thunderous stammering of my heart; needless to say I missed the fast stomps on the staircase.

The second time Joe tugged on my arm to hold me back, it nearly put me under cardiac arrest.

I barely had time to fully turn around to face him before his palm cupped my cheek, bringing my parted lips to meet his own.

I had fantasized with that kiss so many times, and it was nothing like I had imagined.

Maybe it would have been different two years ago, when he didn't felt the desperate need to convey all his emotions through one single effort.

Maybe his lower lip wouldn't have trembled against mine; maybe it would have been so tender; maybe he wouldn't have held back from bringing me flush against him.

Maybe it wouldn't have felt like the saddest goodbye.

The hold on my forearm and my cheek fell limply right before his mouth abandoned me, taking my breath away in the process.

He didn't allow me to take a proper look at him, casting his head down and stepping away as soon as he parted from me, but I still caught a glimpse of the teardrop running down his cheek while he turned heel.

He didn't spare me a single glance before running upstairs.

I heard his sob.

I was pretty sure he heard mine.

[lovers-rck]

price on emotion | caitlyn kiramman x vi

okay first of all hi.

okay second of all this fic is inspired by this drawing made by @/XWilson127 on twitter. can't stop thinking about it so yeah.

i lost my ability to write so this kinda sucks

enjoy

☆

outside its raining. lightning pierces through the curtains into that poorly lit room.

vi lies on the bed. her limbs feel incredibly tense to the point that she wonders if it is possible that her muscles have contracted so much that they can never return to normal. today it was her turn to fight, at first that giant man managed to destabilize her with a punch in her chest, so hard that she lost her breath for a good ten seconds. she thinks she only got air in her lungs back just because she saw that stupid smile of victory in that man's face and she got mad.

but she had won anyway, so she went home with a taste of victory and a bottle of alcohol. loris wasn't in town today to celebrate, so now she was in her rented room, watching how the light was hitting in the empty bottles of alcohol reflecting the color in her wall, like a cheap aurora borealis.

her room is a mess. besides the bottles of alcohol scattered on the floor, vi's room is decorated with clothes everywhere; on the floor, on the door handle, on her bed. from her point of view, she can see the little mark that jinx left on her last visit made with the paint that vi uses for her fights.

jinx has been in and out for a couple months now. last time she showed up when vi was sleeping; when the pink haired girl opened her eyes to hear drawers being rattled, a pair of long blue braids greeted her. vi remembers how her first instinct was to attack her, then jinx insulted her, then left. to this day vi doesn't know how she managed to get into the apartment.

so yeah, jinx has been... there.

before vi can wander further in her thoughts, a knock on the door catches her attention. she thinks maybe it's from the heavy blizzard outside, so she doesn't think much of it; she keeps looking at jinx mark.

a clap of thunder explodes in the sky, vi feels the earth that holds her rumble. she really wishes that loris would be here tonight. he is good company, she thinks; he is quiet, so most of the talking is on vi's part, usually riddled with strange babbling and exaggeratedly pronounced words because of the alcohol.

lately, vi has noticed how the alcohol has worn off; she still can't decide if she likes it or if it scares her. her life has been all about finding options to avoid consciousness for the past few months, from bruises to the cheapest alcohol she could find at the corner store. they work for a couple of weeks, then she is back at the same spot where she started.

another knock on the door comes.

she doesn't consider herself suicidal. she doesn't want to die, for sure, but she is aware of her personality's propensity for not-so-healthy methods. or so she thinks.

it's the third knock on the door that succeeds in calling vi to the surface of her thoughts. she lets out a groan of pain as she gets out of bed, her legs dragging heavily toward the door.

vi thinks maybe it's loris, deploying a sudden apparition that manages to save vi from that boring, lonely rainy night. she also thinks it might be jinx, but jinx isn't polite enough to knock on the door.

instead, a pair of crooked teeths greet her.

"what took you so long? it's raining outside."

her body instinctively slides to the side, leaving the way clear for the slender body to scurry inside quickly. a sea-blue haze pervades the room, and vi feels like she hasn't had a drop of alcohol in years.

"yeah, hello to you too" vi mutters, closing the door.

the noise of the storm leaves the room, but the presence of water makes an appearance; in front of her, caitlyn is soaking wet. the locks of her long hair shed fat drops of water, her uniform turns a darker shade where the drops landed, which becomes tighter and louder with every step she takes, leaving an unobtrusive trail for her craft.

cailtyn's eyebrows furrow. her lips open, but no sound comes from them. vi sits on the bed, her eyes match those of the blue-haired woman; it's been two weeks.

for the past few months an unorthodox routine has been going on in those four walls that vi calls home. she doesn't remember when it started, or how it became so recurrent, but when the nights became lonely and boring, she would catch herself waiting for a knock on the door.

or at least that was two weeks ago, when caitlyn showed signs of life.

"so, you came back from the dead" vi says, her legs manspreading

caitlyn purses her lips "i was busy"

"yeah, i can tell"

"things got... complicated" her hair sheds droplets of water; vi follows the path of one with her eyes, who descends caitlyn's long torso.

vi's eyes reconnect with caitlyn's as the droplet disappears "you don't owe me explanations" vi murmurs

vi can't figure out where in the recesses of her being such hostility comes from, she feels a little stupid about it, but she can't help it. two fucking weeks.

caitlyn's eyes transform, they become harder, less bright, emptier. "you are right. i dont owe you nothing" she says, her strong accent punctuating every word.

the atmosphere feels tense. the thunder continues to make a presentation in the sky, which lights up with each flash of lightning, small rays of light among so much darkness.

"so" vi says "what brings you here?"

vi knows, and caitlyn knows that vi knows. she knows why caitlyn is there, that night, when a thunderstorm is practically tearing the city apart. she could be anywhere, but there she is, in vi's disgusting room, which smells like alcohol and something that she cannot decipher.

caitlyn's furtive visits happen on random days of the week, sometimes in her civilian clothes, sometimes in her enforcer's clothes; usually at night time, when the streets of zaun lie uninhabited, where any sound could be mistaken for the rushing wind.

vi can recite this nightly routine as if it were the anthem: caitlyn shows up at her door with an excuse of being in the middle of an investigation, vi says she doesn't know anything about it, they argue, and then they fuck.

sometimes vi thinks caitlyn's lie isn't necessary, but she can't help but feel that it adds a more interesting twist to the whole thing.

"i heard that jinx has been around lately" caitlyn says, and vi smiles.

well, she hasn't used that one in a while. it's fair.

"mhm" vi says "so that is all it takes for you to come back. jinx."

"i already told you. things has been busy."

"no, i know" vi says "since deciding which fancy restaurant to go eat at every night must be complicated" she knows that she's been a little bit to hard on her, but she can't help to care.

caitlyn lets out a snort. everything she's saying is true, or at least partially true.

normally, caitlyn's secret, spontaneous visits occurred once a week, twice a week if she was feeling lucky, but those last two weeks luck was not something that characterized them. the weight of the power that her own family name inherited from her had been stealing overtime from caitlyn's life, and she had been feeling a little bit of a struggle to take care of it. sometimes caitlyn felt as if her last name was something tangible, a solid object she had to carry all day, every day, for the rest of eternity.

but her words aren't sincere enough to tell vi is that during these weeks apart, caitlyn has been searching for vi's essence in other women.

things were never easy between them. somehow, something always got left unsaid in between them, pricking like a thorn in the prettiest rose in the whole garden, pressing the skin against the thorn to see how long it can last before you hurt yourself.

she knows. she knows all of this is pointless, she knows that sex isn't enough with vi, that somehow nothing is enough with her lately. these last weeks, she found herself daydreaming about the curvature of her nose, the ink on her cheek, the scar on her lips.

but she can't afford that. even coming from a wealthy family, caitlyn can't afford the luxury of feelings, nothing there seems to have a price for her to get it, so the closest thing she can get is the sex.

and she knows that it may be selfish, but if that is the only thing she can get from vi, she will take it.

"i don't care if you don't believe me" caitlyn says "i dont know why i even bother to tell you".

her words sound harsh, her thick accent stands out.

when vi stands up, a few inches separate them. the only source of light from a dim lamp on the makeshift bedside table illuminates caitlyn's features, a dance of light and shadow reflected on her face. vi thinks that maybe the way her face is illuminated is her favorite aurora borealis.

vi's fingertips gently brush the seam of caitlyn's skirt, wrapping the fabric around her finger and causing a slight tug. she can see caitlyn's chest rise and fall.

"what are you really here for, cupcake?"

and that is all it takes.

vi still has her fight makeup on; the black shadow is scattered across her eyelids, there are spots where the shadow has patched and left large uneven chunks. she has a band-aid over her eyebrow and the artificially dyed hair lie messily across her face, but still, underneath all that, it doesn't stop her from seeing the moment when caitlyn leaves her performance and launches into her touch.

everything feels desperate. their lips fight fiercely in an intense kiss, the sound of saliva and wet lips floods the room that was once tamed by the rain outside. vi's hands clutch at caitlyn's jaw, who allows herself to be manipulated with pleasure.

none of it is tender; it's carnal. bot of them are aware of the sound of spit and heaving breaths heard in the room, but none of them seem to care enough to stop. two weeks.

caitlyn's slender, nimble fingers drop vi's leather jacket to the floor, which falls with a thud. her fingertips touch every inch of accessible skin with desperation, trying to memorize every detail, every texture of her physiognomy, to absorb every reaction of her body and then repeat the action and get the same results. the blue-haired woman's hands slip down vi's shirt until they find her breasts, where she squeezes and rubs, pinches and plays.

she loves vi's body. maybe it's superficial, but the way her muscles contract and her skin lies so tight is something that caitlyn could swear changes her brain chemistry.

she can feel how vi drags her toward the bed with steps too clumsy that they are both surprised when their bodies collide against the soft mattress and not the cold floor. caitlyn falls on top of vi, but quickly vi goes on top, leaving caitlyn's long body under her power. vi's hands navigate the full expanse of skin, her fingers sliding the fabric of caitlyn's skirt toward her hips, leaving the flesh of her thighs exposed.

vi's lips leave caitlyn's for a new adventure that begins at her neck. vi sucks and bites lightly like a famished animal, she can feel the taste of rain on caitlyn's skin, who lets out muffled moans.

she can feel vi's fingers squeezing the flesh of her inner thighs. the touch is hard and ecstatic, and both can predict the marks that will appear in the not-too-distant future. their fingers entwine in vi's hair, who whimpers as she is tugged with pleasure.

she has missed this. no one has ever treated her, or well, fuck her, like vi does. she likes that she doesn't feel the necessity of being in control with her, that she can lay down and vi will make her feel good no matter what. with vi, everything flows.

when other women got to touch caitly's body, she often found herself being overly calculating, the need to be in control of the situation overtaking her in a way where enjoyment was the last thing on the list, focused on displaying that performance for an imaginary audience.

last week, caitlyn found herself in a brothel. when the girl was eating her out, caitlyn couldn't force herself to enjoy the moment, so when she faked an orgasm and went home, she vowed never to return.

with vi, caitlyn is stripped of this obsessive need for control.

a flash of lightning illuminates the room. vi can see the desire in cait's eyes.

sometimes vi feels like it's all meaningless; too many nights have passed where the alcohol doesn't work as intended and her mind navigates the sea of worries that inhabit her being, convincing herself that the next time caitlyn shows up at her door, vi won't open it, that she will stop satisfying the needs of a piltover enforcer who only comes to her aid when the nights seem endless and sleep is not present, when frustration and the desire to ignore the exaggerated power she possesses suddenly invades her, guiding her blindly to that dark and lonely room. vi thinks that this is the only way she can break the cycle in half.

but then, for a fraction of a millisecond, she sees that familiar look in caitlyn's eyes and vi knows that her desire has betrayed her once again.

and she hates it. she hates that when all of the sex is over, she goes back to the same place where she started; drunk, beaten and missing a warmth that doesn't belong to her. there have been multiple nights when caitlyn's face where the only thing she could see, where every tone of midnight blue sent shocks through her whole body reminding her that she is alive, and alone.

but she'd rather have a little bit of caitlyn than none of her.

one night, after vi won a fight against a fucking monster -that's what she called him-, she went to a bar with loris, with the excuse that she deserved a good drink after she was about to be beaten to death. the night went well, loris bought her a drink and they talked about the next rounds, training, among other things, but when vi turned to look at loris, a flash of blue eyes caught her attention.

her ears were deafened and loris' words were forgotten. vi could have sworn she felt her heart stop for a few seconds, her skin drained of any trace of color and a bead of cold sweat ran down her spine, paralyzing her completely in a pigsty in the depths of zaun.

it wasn't many seconds before that woman turned around and her identity was revealed; it wasn't her. of course. she took a shot after that, and ended up throwing up on some random people's porch on the way back home, with loris by her side.

but that doesn't matter at the moment, not when vi's fingers slip inside caitlyn's underwear, the fabric of the skirt covering up that indecent act taking place in the privacy of four walls.

she didn't tell violet that these last two weeks she's been away she touched herself imagining that her fingers were vi's. or that she put a handful of pillows down imagining that it was vi beside her and not her usual solitude.

she wasn't allowed to say that.

vi straightens up. look at that view; the way cait is spreading her legs, the way her hips chase vi's touch, how her eyebrows furrow and her lips search for air. caitlyn's hands tug vi's t-shirt hard enough for vi to get the message. she pulls it off and tosses it to the floor, revealing her breasts to cait, who is already drooling.

they usually don't talk when they have sex, the only things that are uttered aloud are directions, like faster or louder, or some insult when vi pushes cait too hard when she is overstimulated.

the lack of talking is not because they don't care about each other, but because they have learned each other's bodies in such a way that they don't need words. a language so intimate that there are only two speakers in the whole world.

the bleached locks fall over her face in a perfectly messy way that caitlyn doesn't know whether to run them off or leave them there for her enjoyment, but before she can even decide, vi leans over and drops a trickle of saliva toward caitlyn's pussy.

caitlyn stifles a moan, her body getting used to the change in temperature. she feels vi's saliva running down her folds.

all of it it's so nasty, but she likes it.

vi's fingers quickly unbutton her pants, revealing the strap clinging to her pelvis. caitlyn wants to roll her eyes at that.

then she thinks if she is seeing someone else.

the head of the fake penis rubs against caitlyn's entrance. vi takes the length of it and moves it up and down, spreading that whitish liquid and sending shudders through the blue-haired woman's body.

vi feels mesmerized. the wet noises make her go crazy, the way caitlyn moves her hips in desperation, her lips letting out low moans. her fingers attack her clitoris, massaging that bundle of nerves as if all the time in the world belonged to her.

she knows she can make cait feel good, and that fills her with an explosion of power that vi feels drunk.

a thunderclap explodes outside, the earth beneath the floor that holds them trembles. the whole world belongs to them.

the light in the room is not bright enough to reveal how much they have missed each other.

another thunderclap.

caitlyn loves being teased by vi, but it's been two fucking weeks, and she can't wait anymore longer.

so when vi pulls out the strap, caitlyn pulls on vi's arm until her back hits the mattress and she's positioned on top of her body, her thighs on either side of vi's legs, who lies mesmerized by the sight.

her uniform is still on as if nothing has happened, the fabric of her skirt bunched up over her hips, a wet mark revealed in her underwear where vi touched her.

vi rests her weight on one of her arms, her torso is leaning back slightly, her other hand holds caitlyn's bare thigh.

"do you need help?" vi says. she feels like she hasn't used her voice in a million times. her throat itches.

caitlyn shakes her head. her hands seek support on vi's broad shoulders, which lend themselves without complaint. her body lifts a little, vi can see her chew her lower lip hard, and before sinking into the strap, caitlyn pulls her underwear to the side.

vi thinks that was the hottest thing ever. she also thinks she can cum with just that.

when caitlyn feels the base of the strap touch her skin, she lets out a sigh. she never tried this position with vi before, or with any other women. she feels full. somehow, her throat feels full, as if a million moans made themselves at home in her throat, and that at the slightest movement of her hips they'll all come rushing out.

she goes up, and then down. she does this a few times before she can get used to. her hands never leave vi's shoulders, squeezing the tanned skin tightly as the strap hits some sensitive part inside her. quickly, caitlyn's rhythm increases, who dances her hips faster and harder.

the sound of skin colliding is as dirty as it is addictive. vi lets out slight moans, not just from the sight, but because csitlyn's thrusts cause the base of the strap to rub against her clit, making her see stars.

vi's lips find their home again on caitlyn's neck, who facilitates access. everything feels hot. the redhead's skin burns, her neck carries a flush that extends into her cleavage, a path vi has traversed countless times. the pace only increases with each second, caitlyn's hips become unruly, the movements more awkward and faster. vi tilts her hips up, and the sound caitlyn makes is one she's never heard before.

she does this a couple of times before caitlyn starts to shake. vi's lips come up, capturing caitlyn's in a wet kiss, caitlyn fucks herself into vi while her mouth is getting fucked the same way by vi's tongue, who shamelessly assaults caitlyn's mouth.

more than a kiss it might seem like an attempt to shut the other up mutually, the guttural moans die on the other's tongue, vibrating at the movement of the onslaught. vi's hand travels from caitlyn's throat, caressing every inch of her body, squeezing the flesh of her hips and thighs, until it reaches her clitoris, where it presses.

she can't kiss caitlyn no more. she can't keep her mouth shut, her legs tremble and vi knows she's on the verge of an explosion. her moans sound more like whimpers, jumping on vi again and again.

"violet" cailtyn moans, her voice is shaky and high-pitched.

her pleasure is so great that it drugs her. caitlyn feels the need to vomit all her feelings to vi, to tell her that she really is the woman she imagined every time another girl touched her, that when she closes her eyes her scar on her lip is the only thing she can see, that her heart constantly seeks her warmth.

but she can't do it, so when she climaxes and the orgasm passes, she rises from vi's lap, her legs shaky and sticky

"let me know if you hear from Jinx."

and she's gone.

[depressoesssspresso]

“No way,” you said shaking your head while munching on some popcorn from the bowl. Your legs were over his as you both relaxed on the Common Room couch. James smiles while you both make eye contact.

“What do you mean no way? I definitely had a bigger crush on you than you on me,” he laughs as he adjusts his glasses. This “argument” of who had a bigger crush on who had been going on for the last fifteen minutes.

“Are you actually joking? Do you think I just happen to carry an extra water bottle every time you had a quidditch game?” You laugh and blush at the memory, “Thought I was such a samaritan the way I was like ‘No yeah I think I have an extra water if you’d like’ knowing damn well I packed it just to have an excuse to talk to you,” You and James’ faces turned red from how long you have been laughing. The two of you have been going out for over 3 1/2 years and would love to rehash this discussion from time to time.

“But that was so cute. Ok but actually how much tutoring did you think I needed? In our third year, I started asking you for help in classes because our schedules didn’t match up. You were like ‘Ugh this Ancient Runes assignment is so hard. Then the smooth boy I am would be like ‘I know right it’s so hard. Let’s do it together.’ I wasn’t even taking Ancient Runes. I was taking Divination,” he bashfully admitted. You giggle at his revelation and continue to eat your popcorn.

“No I knew,” you began, “ I obviously got the hint when you never showed up for class. But you were too sweet to turn down I couldn’t say no. I thought it was weird but that’s sort of your trade mark.” He playfully glared at you while you stuck out your tongue. “ No but seriously, the Quidditch match. I was total heart eyes for you. Even Peter noticed it. Peter!”

“ Well darling, what can I say,” he smirked at you lightly slap his shoulder. “ Y/N, Sirius almost threw a bludger at me in the middle of the game so I would pay attention because I kept looking back at you to see if you were looking at me.” You laugh so hard that you start to lightly choke on your popcorn which causes James to laugh even harder. Tears brimmed both your eyes as you remember the day Sirius and James got into a mini hissy fit in the middle of the game. Sirius slapped James’ shoulder and James almost pushed Sirius off the broom. Let’s just say Madame Hooch wasn’t happy in the end.

“Ok,Ok,Ok, but do you remember me telling Emily Scobell that you were gay so she doesn’t ask you to the Yule Ball. Told her that you and Sirius were mad for each other” You say sitting up straight and sitting cross cross Apple sauce facing your boyfriend. His eyes bulge out and dramatically whip his head towards you.

“THAT WAS YOU!” He yelled while laughing. “I gave Sirius hell for that. Thought he was telling girls we were together to get them to stop coming up to me as a prank.” [A/N Kyle in South Park What the hell are you telling people that we’re a gay couple😭] “ What about my family emergencies?” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion as he gives you the biggest smile while pulling you to his chest.

“What family emergencies?” You question.

“Whenever I wanted to have an intimate conversation with you and was too shy to start, I would come up to you saying there’s been a death in the family. You would then comfort me and give me all your attention,” he giggles as you playfully gasp and hit his chest again sitting up.

“YOU WANKER!” You say in between giggles, “ You told me your grandparents passed away.” This only caused him to die further of laughter.

“ I told you that excuse every week. How many grandparents do you think I have!” James says with an undying smile. Your stomach begins to hurt from how badly you’re laughing.

“YOU MET THEM ON CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY TOO” He continues which causes you to laugh so hard no sound comes out.

“ Oh yeah, I forgot,” you say wiping your tears. As both you laughed dies down, you snuggle back into James chest. “ Damn, we really had it bad for each other, did we?” He kisses the top of your forehead.

“ We still do,” he whispers and he hugs you tight.

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

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“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them. 

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room. 

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day. 

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming. 

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing. 

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing. 

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.” 

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford. 

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real. 

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her. 

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.” 

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part. 

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time. 

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.  

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer. 

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?” 

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them. 

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.” 

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?” 

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.” 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.” 

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?” 

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?” 

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.” 

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it. 

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart. 

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party. 

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable. 

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.” 

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.” 

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.” 

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.” 

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.” 

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name. 

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling. 

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well. 

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.” 

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.” 

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.” 

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.” 

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.” 

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I love you, Lids.” 

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep. 

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).” 

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation. 

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.” 

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father. 

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.” 

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone. 

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice. 

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

“I love you too, dad,” she cried. 

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.” 

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it. 

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.” 

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either. 

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect. 

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control. 

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore. 

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.” 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch. 

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.” 

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.” 

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.” 

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.” 

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.” 

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.” 

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future. 

Next ->

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA - me and my bestfriend (bsf) of six years recently got into a 2 week long argument and at this point have stopped talking. First i need to provide some back ground of the situation. Last November i became friends with “J”. This itself caused some arguments because they have similar names and sometimes i’d slip and call bsf, J, on accident and would immediately apologize. After a couple times of this happening she got really upset but i explained i’d been doing the same to J and she seemed to be less upset about it.

In the beginning of January, J and her bestfriend “E” got into some pretty serious drama where information from both sides never matched up but i’d known and used to be friends with E for a while. He is not a great guy speaking from past experience. (he constantly talks about how he’s a narcissist very proudly) He was claiming they had slept together and was telling all of his friends about it. She was saying they hadn’t. These rumors had been going around for months about them but had died down until this. the problem is i believed J but bsf was close with E and sided with him. I’d like to make a note through this entire situation neither me or bsf played any roll in it to my knowledge. this was just between E and J. Later on i found out they had slept together from J and asked why she had said they hadnt she said it was an agreement between the two of them that they wouldn’t say anything to anyone else because of the rumors people were already spreading about them being together. But once she found out it was definitely him telling people this time she told me the truth. yeah they had slept together then he forced her to take a plan B even though he knew she was on birth control and they’d used a condom. then ghosted her and pretended not to know her when asked by Js twins sisters best-friend.

Now it’s about 3 weeks ago where i posted two separate story’s saying how much i loved J and her sister and the other about how much i love bsf. about 10 minutes later bsf texted me “just delete this.” i of course asked why but she never responded so i took it down like she asked. later that day she reply’s to a text i had sent her the day before saying “nothing much just wishing i was hanging out with you” she replied “right.” at this point i’m genuinely confused what’s happening i had a feeling it was about J somehow because every time i posted about J it would be the one thing she didn’t like or comment on and she would get annoyed when i’d mention some thing me and J had done recently. i immediately replied with “of course, i love hanging out with you. your my best friend” A couple hours later she send me a three paragraph message saying how she didn’t think that anymore because i was ignoring everything she was telling me about what E was saying. That i was only taking J’s side and always talking about what J was saying about her side. She said I was using her as a separate option that if J couldn’t hang out i would call her. etc at the end of the message she told me she would never make me choose but that she will never trust anything J says. (they’ve literally never met or talked the only thing she hears about J is through E or me) she ends it with do whatever you want to do but don’t do anything for me. keep being friends with her idk i’m keeping my distance from all that. I replied with a message basically saying that she wasn’t the second option, i wasn’t sure who to trust, and that i try to avoid talking about the situation with J. we go back and forth with her apologizing for how she’s acting then getting mad about me not just believing her over everything else i’m being told. Then she tried to claim she never said J was wrong but that she knows she’s lied to me (the thing i mentioned in the first paragraph is the only time she’s lied to me) that she never picked a side and that she can’t believe how hurt she feels when “i’m supposed to be her bestfriend” i brought up the fact that i had asked her more than once if me being friends with her bothered her and she always said no. That this wouldn’t have exploded like this if we could have talked it out before. she took that as me saying this was all her fault.

A couple days later she messages me asking to talk in person i say when and where but she just send me a message about her feelings anyways again apologizing for how she’s acting and that she felt i wasn’t listening to her but it hurt more to lose me etc but continuing to say she doesn’t think i should be friends with J but it’s my choice. I reply i was listening but i think we were both just trying to find the facts in a situation we will never really know who was lying 100%. but i made a point in the massage to say i wasn’t going to stop being friends with J and that i didn’t understand why me and bsf relationship was so affected by me and J’s. She gets mad again bringing up a hate account that was made claiming J had made it but J had shown me that she hadn’t and it was investigated by our school who also said she didn’t do it. that it was my choice to be friends with her but that i don’t understand how it’s affecting her and that it wasn’t fair. at this point i was really mad because it really felt like she was trying to force me to choose between them two in a way. i replied saying she hadn’t made the account and said i don’t think J is the reason we stopped talking and that i feel like she was making me choose even though she was saying she wasn’t. she then replied saying she didn’t make me choose but that i had chose J over her and “that i guess you though she needed more attention” (yeah maybe because J is not mentally handling this well at all and your fine because your not actually involved with this drama) i didn’t reply to her but about another week later i texted her “i just want to be friends with both of you. why can’t i do that” she replied i understand but i don’t think you should be friends with she’s not a good person but hope your having fun it’s all i wanted for you. that’s the end of the messages at this point.

TLDR : (do we do those here??) bestfriend of three years stopped talking to me because i became friends with another girl who later got into drama with best friends close friend E (A PROUDLY SELF PROCLAIMED NARCISSIST I MIGHT ADD)

What are these acronyms?

[judysxnd]

I have an idea for pedro × reader

They get into a fight about something and the reader leaves the house . She comes back hours later and see pedro worried and angry searching for her for hours so he is mad but they finally make up . ( romantic ending please)

I’ve seen another person writing one similar request. I like the idea ! I actually like better what I wrote here than the smut (if we can even call it that) I wrote last night 😂 is this romantic enough at the end?

I’m coming back to my place tomorrow hopefully I’ll feel better than this past week at my parents!

——————————————————————————————

You were sitting on the couch, watching tv when your phone rang. Pedro was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from lunch. You got up, thinking your phone was on the coffee table, or even the couch, but nothing.

“P? Have you seen my phone?” He turned around, looking for it.

“Yes on the counter”

“Thanks!” You said, grabbing your phone. It was work. Pedro might have seen it too because of what he said.

“Why is your work calling you on a Sunday afternoon?” You simply shrugged, showing him that you didn’t know why. But you actually knew why. You were on a big project. You had to organize a presentation, prepare an entire event on it, and at the same time, write at least twenty pages about it. You loved you job, you really did, but you hated those periods because you had to do everything alone. You had no coworkers on this, it was a one person project.

Every month works like that. Each month it’s a different person, thank god you are around twenty to work there, but it obviously had to be you at some point. Pedro knew how important it was for you, but he didn’t like how nervous and stressed out your were. You became a workaholic during this month, spending most of your time working, and doing nothing else.

It didn’t help knowing that it was actually a slow month for Pedro too. He didn’t have anything big, just a couple of interviews and photo shoots here and there. He had a lot of free time, but that wasn’t your case. Pedro was being very nice about it, you had to put with his crazy schedule the rest of the year, he could live with it for you just for a month. It was hard, but manageable. You also made a deal. Next weekend, you were going out. He found a tiny cabin lost in the woods, and thought it would be a good way to disconnect a little. So he rented it for next week.

You hoped you didn’t get the phone call you were actually having. Because even if you knew it was about your project, you didn’t know that they had move your schedule. Instead of having two weeks to finalize everything, and write your report, you only had one. They apparently had to, they had no choice, “corporate took their decision”. Sure. And it had to be you. So now, you had to find a way to tell Pedro that you couldn’t leave next week, because the event was now on Saturday.

He must have sensed it. Probably the way you walked back to the kitchen, the way you were playing with your phone, how you avoid eye contact, and how your mood changed.

“Bad news right?” You nodded. You leaned on the counter behind him, playing with your phone. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore.

“They changed my schedule” now you were staring at him, waiting for any kind of reaction, but nothing. He didn’t realize it was about next weekend. “The event is now next week” he finally turned around, looking at you.

“Are you going to be okay?” You were confused

“I’m a little behind but I think I’ll manage, but- are you?”

“Me? Yeah why?”

“My event. Is next week.. end” he suddenly stared at you

“Next Saturday?”

“Yes”

“And you said yes”

“I didn’t really have the choice”

“Why?”

“Corporate, apparently”

“That’s just some lame excuses. So what’s the real reason?”

“I don’t know that’s what they told me!”

“You didn’t ask?” Pedro was getting really annoyed. His voice got a little bit lower, but louder.

“I tried!”

“I didn’t really hear you try”

“Why are you mad at me? It’s not my fault!”

“You could have said no maybe?”

“Oh yeah so they could fire me and find someone else to do my job?”

“They would not fire you for that”

“Oh yes they would! It’s not acting here, I can’t do whatever I want, there are rules”

“Because there are not in my career?”

“I never said that!” The fight was going nowhere, you were just pissed and saying the first thing coming to your mind. It didn’t really make sense, for the both of you, but you just went with it anyway.

“Can’t you call them back?”

“For what? They chose to move the event one week sooner. I just have to get ready for it”

“But we rented”

“Can’t you call them?”

“What if I don’t want to?” Pedro was getting sassy

“And what if I don’t want to?” You crossed your arms “why do we have to do what you want, never what I want?” Pedro didn’t say anything, you couldn’t stop staring at him. “You know how much I love my job. And he’ll, you’re the one always on the move, working your ass off 24/7, and you don’t hear me complaining! I do it for one month and you can’t deal with it?” That’s when you had enough. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You let go of your phone and left towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You didn’t say anything. You grabbed your keys, and just left the house. “Y/n wait!” Pedro ran outside, but you were already in your car, leaving the house.

You drove for what seemed forever, not even knowing where you were going. You kind of dissociated the entire time. You finally stopped, feeling thirsty. After buying an iced coffee, you went back to your car, thinking. You and Pedro never really fought. They were some misunderstandings sometimes, some disagreements, but never big fights like that one.

It is true that you never said anything while Pedro was away filming or doing press tour or interviews or whatever. But you realized that’s because he was always calling you, sending you some gifts if he was in another country, or even making you fly to him every time you could. Maybe you needed to find more time for him too, to find a way to prioritize him like he did with you.

While you were away, Pedro was pacing in the house. Feeling a huge amount of guilt. He got scared he pushed you away too much, that it was your last straw, that you were leaving for good. After thinking, he found his reaction childish. So what, you were working a lot for a short amount of time and he couldn’t handle it? After everything you went through for him? The rent was just an excuse. Oh the many times he had to delay dinner, the dates you never had because he had to film longer than expected. Maybe you should wait for y/n’s project to be over before renting anything.

At some point he decided to call you. But after hearing your phone on the counter, he got pissed. The only time you forget to take your phone with you. What if something happens? An accident? Anything! He would not know.

So he grabbed his keys, and decided to go look for you. He first went to your favorite place, a spot he had found outside of town, hoping finding you, but nothing. He then went to your best friend’s house, but they were no cars, so you weren’t there. He went to the planetarium, he remembered how you loved watching stars, and how much you were amused by the animation they had of the planets, but you were nowhere to be found.

He decided to go back home, you could be anywhere, the city was to big to find you. At some point you had to come back, so it would be better to wait at home. Once he was there, again, he couldn’t stop pacing. The sun was setting, and you were still not back. He kept looking at your phone, wishing you had taken it. He also smoked a lot, being extremely anxious.

Finally you came back home, around 8pm, more 9pm actually. Pedro didn’t eat, neither did you. You got tired driving around, the anger had left your body, you were calmer so you decided to come back. You barely entered the house that Pedro ran to you, and hugged you tight.

“Oh thank god you’re back” he whispered. You felt guilty, leaving like that. “I thought something happened, you didn’t have your phone, I looked everywhere for you” you parted. He played with your hair, looking at you anxiously

“I’m sorry, I needed some air, and I got coffee and just kept driving arou- wait you said you looked for me?”

“Yes! I went to your favorite places, but I didn’t find you”

“I’m sorry” you said hugging him again. “I shouldn’t have left like that”

“Yes please do not do that next time. I think we both overreacted on this one, but don’t scare me like that please”

“I’m sorry” you stayed silent for a few seconds. “And you were right I’m sorry”

“No I wasn’t, I’m never here, I work way too much, for once it’s your turn, I should handle it, it’s just that you really need it, and I miss you”

“I’m sorry, I miss you too” you we’re still hugging each other. “But also, I should be able to find time for you, like you always do for me”

“Then it’s settled, no more complaining and more time for us” you looked at each other smiling

“Yes. I love you too much to fight over stupid things like this”

“I couldn’t agree more” he said, caressing your back with his right hand, while the other was on your cheek. Pedro kissed your forehead. “And I love you more” you blushed

“Did you eat?”

“Nope”

“Good. Because I’m starving”

“Do you feel like cooking?”

“Hell no”

“Uber?”

“You read my mind” you both ordered your food, and devoured it in front of a movie on the couch, sitting next to each other.

Sometimes when you’re both worked up it’s hard not to lash out on the first person you see. Guess you both did that to each other. But you felt better, you both did. Releasing this tension.

You spent the evening chilling like that, not thinking about the extremely hard week coming for you, just enjoying your time with your boyfriend, in your own bubble. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

[koiir]

BAGS.

— As you two grow, you can’t help the way your heart grows for him. But nothing ever last, and soon you two drift apart and you wonder if you will ever get the chance to make him yours once again.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ━ Chigiri x fem!reader

Word count; 2k+ with fluff/angst, childhood friends into lovers

Baggage. That’s what your love for your best friend felt like. Could you even call him that anymore? It feels natural to call him that, but no new memories between the two of you had been made ever since his injury. The one that took him away from you. You started at the reflection a head of you, the girl you had always dreamed of. The one who was famous and loved by all, but not by him. You had it all, you achieved the dream you’ve wanted every since you were a kid. The only missing piece was having him back.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gone out you know.”

“[name], please we went to the mall last week,” he rolled his eyes.

“Cmon hyoma! Don’t you wanna go take a walk or something? We can go to the park and race eachother, I haven’t ran in a while you know.”

“Either way I would beat you name, but I’ve been meaning to read the book you told me about” he grinned. Only to be met with your glare.

“Well I might not be as fast as you but I’m pretty fast you know, that’s why I made it on the varsity track team.” You said with an annoyance. But of course you could never get mad at Chigiri, he was everything to you.

“Yeah yeah yeah, well, let’s head to the book store first and then we can go to the cafe. Does that sound alright?”

“Yeah, that would be perfect.” You sighed, you finally could spend more time with chigiri as your schedule has cleared up. Traveling has worn you out, longing for a peaceful day.

And it was, the day out with Chigiri was perfect. He always had the calm yet energetic presence to him, you loved it. Loved all of him. You two first started off with the book store, in which you recommended him a book.

“Since you’ve been going crazy over it, sure why not.” You grinned, he smiled back.

After that trip, you two walking around the city heading to the cafe you both loved. Everything about it was perfect, the food, the vibe, you and him.

It was almost chigiri’s favorite season, one you knew would be with him and only him.

Christmas for the two of you always stayed the same, either it was spent at your house or his, a cycle that would change every year. Drinking hot chocolate with him or tea, while the two of you talked about the books you wanted to read. You loved the winter, not only because of the season itself, but because the time you two spent was one that filled your heart with warmth. You hoped it always stayed that way.

The warmth would soon turn cold as he became cold

The tear not only was sent to his knee, but to his heart and everything else. His dream of becoming the best. It was gone. He hated it. Hated everything. He was pent up with everyone who had pitted him, he hated the fact that when they did he would have a reminder that he was no longer able to fulfill his dream.

“Who is it?” The annoyance in Chigiri’s voice was evident, it made you anxious if you should have even came.

“It’s me hyoma.” He looked up from his book, the one you had given him just a couple months ago. Before his dream was shattered. Hearing your voice now made him realize how you two hadn’t been together in a while, you busy with acting roles and shoots while he was playing for his dream.

Chigiri always looked up to in a way, the way you had achieved your dreams at such a young age. He wanted, needed to be like you. For the first time you had beat him, and so he wanted to catch up to you. He wanted to achieve his dream, just like you, but now he wasn’t able to. Now he was left with nothing.

But you had everything. You had everything while he had nothing.

“Come in,” you entered and as you did he glanced up at you. His eyes widened.

“It’s been a while, since I’ve been in your room,” you looked around, nothing much had changed other than the trophies he use to keep in his room. You remember the way he was gaze at them with that grin he held while talking about becoming the best.

“So, have you been the reading the book I got you?” You pointed toward the book in his bed as he moved to the edge of his bed.

“Yeah actually, it’s longer than I thought. I like it.” You hated it. Hated the way Chigiri was talking to you as if you were an old acquaintance. His tone tired.

I cant read you but if you want the pleasures all mine

Chigiri didn’t bother trying to make eye contact, he didn’t want to. He would always make sure you knew that he was listening, and so he would stare. Not only for that reason, but as an excuse to see your face. He didn’t want to glance at your face anymore. he would only be reminded of the past, the past in which you two held memories that made his heart full of joy. Full of his love for you which he tried to hard to never show.

Can you see me using everything to hold back?

“Why are you here? Did something happen?,” he knew why you were here. It was the same as everyone else, and he hated that. Because you weren’t everyone else, you were the one that Chigiri wanted.

“I know you’ve been told many times about it, but I’ll be fine Hyoma. You can still play soccer if you give it some time-“

“Is that why you came, to pity me [name]? If you knew then why bring it up? You do realize it won’t be fine and if I dare to play soccer again I might lose everything. Don’t you realize that?”

He now looked up, eyes burning with fire as he said those words. You’ve never seen him like this, he was never like this. Never with you.

“Hyoma… I’m sorry-“

“You don’t understand [name]”

Your voice hitched. Stop, you wanted him to stop so bad. Saying your name full of anger and not the playful way he would always use. It made you feel numb.

“You don’t understand anything. You don’t understand how it feels to have your dream taken away. You don’t have to worry about it while I do.”

You couldn’t bare to look at him, his eyes filled with rage. Your eyes becoming blurry as you looked away. In this moment all you wanted to do was hug him, do anything in your power to help him. But you couldn’t, you had set a fire that wouldn’t burn out anytime soon.

“I’m sorry.” The last words spoken before you left, and the ones that would make him regret everything.

“Fuck.”

As you left his room for the last time, you looked at the paper origami in your pocket. The one Chigiri had made to you before you had left. The ones with the words, you’ve made it. I’m proud of you.

I guess this could be worse walkin’ out the door with your bags

“10 more minutes until we shoot!” People moved to their destinations, quick so they could do last minute touches and make sure everyone and everything was in place. You start vanity, awaiting for the moment you would get up and start the shoot. You should be happy, giddy at best. The role was everything you dreamed of. One in which you got to be part of the main cast in a physiological thriller, a breaking in your career.

Yet it only reminded you of him, how you told him it was your dream to act in a thriller. Now you can only wonder if Chigiri had given up on his dream. You hope, pray that he did not and he was still trying. You knew Chigiri would sacrifice everything for soccer, for his dream.

You wrote down in your journal, the one he had given you as a Christmas present.

“Here, so you can write down your delusions.”

“I am not delusional!”

“Nah, you are extremely delusional name”

You used the journal for almost everything, planning, your schedule, your thoughts.

Pardon my emotions I should probably keep it to myself

Knew you’d make fun of me

You can imagine Chigiri telling you how silly it was to write down what you wished for, almost like a Christmas list a child would make. And in a way he would be right. It was silly to wish for someone who didn’t want you back. Delusional, just as he has called you.

“Everyone action!”

The cafe was busy as always, especially due to the fact that it was lunch break for most. You sipped on your coffee as you stared at the glass, watching others walk wondering what they dream of. Your daze now on your phone as you saw a notification from your mom.

Are you busy next week? I have tickets the Japan U -20 game against the blue lock 11.

You were about to send a message saying you wouldn’t go until she sent her next one.

I heard Hyoma will be playing, his mom and sister are going.

Your hand gripped the phone tight until it turned off. Your mind running with thoughts. Chigiri was still playing soccer. He was playing against the Japan U - 20 team. You would see him again.

You smiled wide, almost laughing at what you had just heard. You out you head down, staring at the text that turned your whole world upside down. Your cheeks heating up, your smile never faltered.

I’m free so I’ll go

You placed the phone down as you sighed, looking up and smiling down at your plate. The dish the same color as his eyes, the ones that you would soon see again.

“Hey Nagi?”

“Mhm what”

“Can i borrow your phone? I wanted to check something.” The boy infront of him just sighed and handed the device to him. Chigiri typed down a name he wished he could see in person. When he typed down your name, he saw the first article clicking on it to read it. I knew it he thought, you got your dream role. Chigiri could only smile at the screen ahead of him showcasing the photo of you.

“I know you could do it name”

It felt nostalgic, everything about it. You were able to go down and see more than the average people as you mother had been invited to be report on the game. Even with all the cameras, paparazzi asking you questions about your new role and thoughts on the game, you could only think of him.

Chigiri Hymoa. His name being the only thing you could think of.

As you walked the seats, you saw his mom and sister. You knew seating next to them would be the perfect opportunity to see Chigiri. He would have to notice them, and then he would notice you.

Only a couple minutes until the match, until you could see him again. Both teams came out, cheers erupting from the stadium. You only waited for one person, Chigiri. And with that, the game has started. You only had eyes for him, watching him. Watching how far he’s gone.

Half time. A chance you thought, soon he’ll notice me. The calling of his name caught you off guard, his sister yelling out to him. You looked in her direction, seeing Him. Seeing Chigiri Hyoma. The one you wish to make yours

He looks up, still drinking water. A small blush making an appearance on his face. He looked up seeing his sister along with his mother. What he didn’t expect was seeing his sister pull you in so he could see you. His eyes widened, haven’t seen you in what felt like an eternity. His missed you. So much. A gasp came out of you, soon becoming a bright smile for him. The one you would always wear when with him.

He was beautiful. He was still the same boy you fell in love with all those years ago. The two of you only stayed with your eyes glued to one another, not realizing the others around you noticed it.

“Hey, who’s that cutie- holy shit is that [f/n] L/n]?”

Chigiri only got my embarrassed, “that’s my sister… and yes that is her.”

“Man do you know her? How in the hell?!”

“You know Chigiri, you should set me up with her? Wait, is she taken?”

His once annoyance now turning into jealousy at the thought of you wish someone else, he could only glare at male’s next to him.

“No she’s taken.”

“By who?”

Pride swelling in his body as he stated his next words. “Me.” He could see the shocked look on both Otoya’s and Karasu’s face once they had heard him. With that, chigiri left them not before looking back up at you and sending you a smile and a wave. He felt the fire in his heart starting to burn once more.

Cheers come from the crowd as it was announced that Blue lock 11 had beat the Japan U-20 team, 3 to 4. Those who had been subbed out went out to the field to celebrate along with the others. You waited until you saw him. Chigiri.

Others such a interviewers webt on the field to report on the game, you had your chance. He was so close yet so far away from you in the field. The only thing you could do is run, run to him.

I’m not the type to run, I know that we’re having fun

“Hyoma!” You yelled out his name as you ran towards him, onlookers following you. Finding it out of the blue that you out of all people would be running on a field calling out someone’s name. You called out to him once more, almost reaching him.

Chigiri knew that voice, the one who hadn’t heard in forever. He turned around, almost as if what he seeing was a dream. More like scene of our movie since it was you. He ignored all the calls of his name, only caring for yours. As you did, he ran. He knew he would beat you, he always did.

“I beat you,” Chigiri grabbed you, holding you close to him. “Gosh, did you run all the way here?”

“Yeah… I did.” Panting, you looked up at him. God. You haven’t been able to be this close to him in what felt like years. Your heart beating faster than ever. It could have been the running, but you knew he was also the cause.

“I can’t believe hyoma you did it, you won.” He gazed at your eyes, the ones that burned was passion. One that he always saw full of emotion while acting, one he was seeing right now looking back at him.

“You never gave up.”

“You can thank that one over there,” Chigiri pointed over to isagi who was being interviewed. “But, I have you to blame name. My time at blue lock… the only thing on my mind was you along with my injury. It made me realize how I almost ruined us because of it, how it could also ruin my dream. So… I didn’t give up. Because losing two things is worse than never trying at all. But looks like I’ve got the chance to fix what I ruined.”

You stared at him wide eyed as he said that, did he mean…

“I want to be yours name.” You saw that the grin you loved dearly, the one he always showed you. And only you.

“Are you sure you aren’t feeding into my delusions?” You received a chuckle from him.

“No I’m sure this is real, if anything you would be feeding into my delusions.”

Quick and rushed it was, you didn’t expect any less from him. The way he grabbed you cheek with care, making sure not to damage you once again. His lips soft against your own, the feeling new to the both of you. One only you could feel with him.

But what’s the rush? Kissing , then my cheeks are so flushed

You both pulled away, faces flushed looking back at one another. Smiles being evident by the two of you.

“I love you hyoma.” It’s like the words spilled out of mouth, without a thought in mind. But you knew it was the truth, one you had tried to hide in the past.

He pulled you, you head feeling the beat of his heart racing. “I love you too name… you have no idea how long I’ve been meaning to tell you that.

“I did it, you might have beat me first, but I caught up. We both have achieved our dreams.”

Eww so cringe (god you do not understand how much I love this man like)

[leejeongz]

just something super fluffy for enhypen please 🖤

how enhypen tells you that they love you

pairing: boyf!enha x gn!reader

genre: fluff, Heeseung’s reaction is the TINIEST bit angsty

warnings: mentions of food, illness, the opticians and pet names

summary: different ways that enhypen tell you that they love you (other than just saying “i love you”)

Heeseung ･:，｡★ﾟ

“Did you manage to speak to your lecturers?” Heeseung asked, your head tucked under his arm as you wiped your tears.

“Yeah, they were really nice, actually,” you admitted with your last snivel. “So I decided to change.”

Not wanting to press you for information, Heeseung didn’t ask a follow up question. Instead, he waited for you to open up. He sunk further into the chair and managed to rest his head on yours, sighing.

“I already applied for the college that we went to look at last year, do you remember?” you felt his head nodding against yours, his face got warmer too. “I know it's a few hours away but, I think it's for the best. You're not mad, right?”

Heeseung picked up his head and you followed, looking at him apprehensively.

“I’m not mad, y/n,” his eyes filled up and a weak smile grew on his face “I support you, no matter what.” His hand reached out for yours and shook it endearingly. “How can I be mad when all I want is the best for you?”

You mirrored a small smile back to him, a thank you for being so understanding. “It was selfish, I know, but we can still talk on the phone and I’ll be back here for the holidays!”

“It wasn't selfish, y/n, and I'm proud of you for doing this.” this was the most sincere you'd ever seen or heard heeseung. His words were comforting, almost making you regret the decision to leave the city, but you knew he'd never let you feel bad about doing that. “I guess that means we’ll have to finish watching The Office quicker than we expected,” he laughed, leaning forward and grabbing the remote to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

Others include:

“Have you eaten today?”

“I love your laugh”

“I miss you”

“Bring a jacket”

other members below the cut

Jay ･:，｡★ﾟ

Almost missing your phone ringing thanks to the massive coughing fit you just had, you reached for the bottle of water on your bedside cabinet. Empty.

“Hi babe,” you croaked out.

“I just finished work, is it okay if I come over?” your boyfriend asked, the road noise behind him almost taking up all of your attention as it drummed in your head.

“I don't want to make you sick, jay.”

“You won’t, I’m not like other guys.”

You laughed as well as you could as Jay ended the call. It wasn't long before Jay had let himself into your apartment and into your kitchen, not even caring to let you know he was here. You heard the microwave beep a few times and, following that, a few of Jay’s favourite curse words. You waited anxiously as he entered your room holding a microwaveable tub and a fresh, ice cold bottle of water.

“I made you soup,” he greeted you with a sympathetic smile. You grabbed the tray table that you'd been using for the past few days, only then realising how many times Jay had broken into your apartment and made you food just this week.

“How do I know it's not your food making me sick?” you asked him jokingly as you watched him place the food onto the table.

“It might be,” he backed away again and shrugged, “maybe I’m doing it just so I have an excuse to come visit you every day.”

You laughed again, it scratched your throat so much that you were annoyed at yourself for falling in love with someone so charming and funny.

“Just eat the soup, y/n, i don't want it to go cold again like yesterday when you fell asleep,” he rolled his eyes and you copied while bringing a spoonful to your mouth. “Should I feed you, aeroplane style?”

Others include:

“Tell me more”

“I'll make you breakfast”

“Text me when you get home”

“You should read this”

Jake ･:，｡★ﾟ

Your arm slipped out from Jake’s as you arrived at what was supposedly a beach picnic with a couple of friends. There were tons of people there, most of whom you didn't even recognize. You gulped as Jake’s hand tightly engulfed yours.

“Jake! Y/n!” A friend of your boyfriend called over as he jogged towards the pair of you, “listen,” he started as he got closer, drawing the two of you in to form a small circle as if to discuss something secretly, “Jay “accidentally” invited his whole contact list, and his friends are pretty enthusiastic when it comes to free food. I can introduce you to some of them. But yeah, there’s gonna be way more people here than we planned.” As soon as he finished, he left to greet some more people, leaving you and Jake to mull over the, frankly, awful news.

“Let's go watch the sunset instead, hey?” Jake asked after some thought, tugging on your hand. “I saw the cutest bench on the way here that overlooked the ocean and now would be the perfect time to take it before anyone else does.”

You smiled at your boyfriend and agreed, following his lead back along the path you'd just walked on. It was only a short walk back to the bench and Jake didn't lie, it was the perfect scene. You sat and Jake shuffled closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder sweetly.

“Thank you,” you uttered as you looked down to see your boyfriend smiling at the view in front of you.

“Of course, baby,” you felt both his arms snake around you, embracing you in an innocent side hug, “anything for you.”

Others include:

“Proud of you”

“Have a great day”

“Stay a little longer”

“You deserve the world”

Sunghoon ･:，｡★ﾟ

Less than 12 hours before you needed to leave for the airport and you were panicking… big time. Sunghoon was busy taking a nap in your room, or so you assumed, while you threw all the “vacation clothes” clothes out of your suitcase for the first time in years. You looked at the pile you'd just created, if you had time to sob and cry, you would, but you couldn't afford to do that right now.

“Washbag,” you scurry through the clothes in hunt for the bag, “come on, where are you?” Your hand reached the coldness of a zipper and you yanked at it mercilessly, “there you are!”

“Why are you still up?” Sunghoon’s sleepy voice called out from behind you, somewhat snapping you out of distress. “You told me you packed weeks ago.” You turned to see him already sitting on the edge of your sofa, his palms coming to rest on your shoulders and give you a gentle massage.

“Well, obviously I didn't.” he laughed at your snappy response before you asked him a question. “What are you doing up anyway?”

“I came to see if you were okay, sounded like things were getting pretty intense in here,” his attempt to make a joke didn't land well with you, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You looked at your boyfriend with apologetic eyes, “could you make a list of everything that I pack, please?” your eyes softened more as you watched him slowly nod his head. “Thank you.”

He grabbed a notepad and pen from out of your room and sauntered back to you, still a bit sleepy. He took his place on your sofa once again but opted to stand up instead so he wouldn't doze off.

Others include:

“Thinking of you”

“I'm your biggest fan”

“I had a dream about you”

“I'll leave the lights on for you”

Sunoo ･:，｡★ﾟ

“What appointment did you book for tomorrow?” Sunoo rolls onto his stomach on your bed, checking your shared calendar.

“The opticians,” you let out a sigh as Sunoo pouts to himself. “I really don't want to go but they rang my work phone so I picked it up without even thinking about it,” you explained, “and they said they had an appointment tomorrow so I thought it's probably best to get it over and done with because-”

“y/n, you’re gonna cry, are you that nervous?” he asked, genuinely concerned. By this point he was sitting upright, his hand on your knee. You nodded and bit your lip, remembering all those times you were forced to go as a kid. “I’ll come with you, don't worry,” he said, as if it was nothing.

“You don't have to.”

“I want to.”

You took his hand from your knee and engulfed it in your own hand with a thankful and relieved smile. He lay back down again, on his side and let you play with his fingers for a while as he admired you with a sweet grin.

“You're cute,” he giggled. “I can't wait to see you with those silly glasses on.”

“No pictures,” you thought back to your last birthday when he posted the most embarrassing photos of you online, but knowing one in those glasses would top them all, “please.”

Others include:

“I have so much to tell you”

“I believe in you”

“I got you something”

“Don’t forget to put on your seatbelt”

Jungwon ･:，｡★ﾟ

Once your head hit Jungwon's shoulder, you were out like a light. Jungwon’s gaze drifted from the TV to his shoulder, a small smile creeping to his lips when he noticed you were sleeping. His hand came up to cup your face and gently move your head further onto him, careful not to wake you.

A tiny snore escaped and Jungwon couldn't help but laugh. Honestly, he found it adorable, but he knew you'd never speak to him again if you found out so he agreed to keep that secret to himself.

“Hm, what happened, what did I miss?” You woke up, jolting yourself away from your boyfriend, eyes darting around the room, “did they kiss?” You asked, pointing to the screen in shock.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jungwon responded with what was most likely a lie, he couldn’t really be sure since he was too focused on you. “How did you sleep?” You slid into a smaller position on the couch after hearing his question, a little embarrassed. “You had a long day, huh?” Jungwon outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle with him again.

You nodded, snuggling back into your boyfriends’ side, “I didn’t sleep that well last night either.”

Jungwon sighed, resting his head on top of yours. His hand quickly found yours as he began to play with your fingers in front of him, “should we head to bed early tonight? You can be the little spoon…”

Others include:

“How are you, really?”

“Have a safe flight”

“You inspire me so much”

“Drive safe”

Niki ･:，｡★ﾟ

Exam day, the day you've been dreading for a whole year. Your boyfriend and classmate, Niki, hadn't even touched any revision materials, but everyone knew he'd pass with flying colours anyway. You, on the other hand, had used every technique under the sun: flashcards, mind maps, power points, you'd even tried listening to podcasts before falling to sleep, and yet you still didn't feel prepared enough.

“Just sit next to me, I’ll give you the answers,” Niki boasted, popping the collar of his blazer jacket as you queued to enter the exam hall.

“We have assigned seats,” you rolled your eyes, how could he be so ill prepared, you wondered.

“I’d probably be too distracting anyway,” he winked, before shuffling closer to the entrance.

You let out an anxious, heavy sigh, catching his attention. His eyes filled with worry as they searched yours. “You're gonna be amazing.” His hand caressed your upper arm, his smile meaningful and sincere.

“I hope so,” you bit your lip, staring down the invigilator on the door before giving Niki one last nod. “You go in first.”

“Remember y/n, stay calm, you're going to do great,” he started, giving his name to the invigilator before saying one last thing, “but I'm going to do better.”

You rolled your eyes once again, scoffing at your boyfriend with a hint of genuine laughter.

Others include:

“I have a surprise for you”

“I’ll go if you go”

“Is this okay?”

“Text me when you land”